Eddie

SOLSTICE

I WATCH THE SILVER SHAPE of the car moving through the darkness along the driveway toward the gates. Nathan Tate's words echo in my head. "But you should have seen him. Could tell he just needed it, for whatever reason. Something to make him feel better. He was just so fucking sad."

I think of my lost brother. My broken dad. My family, destroyed by what she did. I understand what Bella means. Francesca Meadows is rich and posh and she's got away with it for fifteen years already. Of course she'll get away with it again.

What can I do? But I have to do something. I've never hated anyone in my life before. But after what I've learned, what she did... Yeah. I think I hate her.

There isn't much time. Think, Eddie. The road winds inland a way before it meets the sea again and you can't go much more than twenty miles an hour... the cliff path is much shorter, more direct. Maybe there's a chance—

I sprint to the bike lockers, only a few meters away. Grab my bike. As I pedal like crazy I pass Nathan Tate, who hasn't a hope of catching up with her, then nearly lose my balance at the sight of Owen Dacre sprinting toward the gates, looking deranged with anger. I wobble a little as I pass Michelle, too, staring down the drive with a face like thunder. And as I leave through the gates I think I glimpse several dark figures at the edge of my vision: watching me go.

But then they're all left behind and it's just me. Out on the cliff path I cycle like my life depends on it, skidding over pebbles and into potholes, legs pumping, lungs burning, sweat running into my eyes. The moon lights my way, hanging huge and heavy above the black water. My chest burns, I feel like I might throw up with the effort. But I can't stop. All I know is I have to get there in time.

Finally I reach the place where the road meets the cliffs again by the caravan park. I leap off the bike, panting. I'm scanning in both directions, trying to catch any sound over the thud of my heartbeat in my ears. There's no sign of any car. I'm too late. She must already have gone past. But then...

Yes, I can hear the growl of an engine. Can see the gleam of the headlights over a little rise in the road, coming from the direction of The Manor. A flash of silver. It's her. My heart's beating even harder. This is my chance.

But I need something else, something more. I need to be more. More than plain old Eddie Walker who can't even squash a spider when his girlfriend asks him to. I need something that will stop her in her tracks.

The roar of the engine gets louder. I don't have much time. I throw down my bike and as I do the pannier lands on the tarmac with a soft thud and I remember the mask, cloak, and gloves hidden inside. I think of the terrifying sight of those dark figures in the woods.

I lift up the mask, except suddenly it seems more than just a mask. It's like it's vibrating with a strange power... or maybe it's just the trembling of my hands. There's this moment outside time when I pause and stare at it and think: do I dare? But now it feels like it is meant to be. The only way.

I fit it over my face. I pull the cloak around my shoulders and though the air's crazy hot and the black fabric is thick and heavy it's oddly cool against my shoulders. I shiver, the first chill I've felt all night.

I stand here, waiting. I hear a shout from the direction of the caravan park. I glance behind me. And by the light of the moon I see old Graham Tate clinging to the outer fence and clutching a whisky bottle and staring right back at me with wide, frightened eyes. It takes a beat and then I realize: he doesn't see me, Eddie. He sees one of the Birds. And he is terrified.

This thing I'm wearing... it's more than just cloth and feather now. It's changing me into someone—something—different. A dark power seeping into me. And as the headlights swing around the final bend I step out into the middle of the road and I put up my hands and the cloak whips out behind me and I shout "STOP" but even my voice isn't mine any longer. It comes out like a shriek—like no sound I've ever made, like no sound any human should make.

And I catch sight of her face through the windscreen and she, too, is terrified.

Good.

Because I'm not Eddie anymore. The fear is gone, the doubt is gone. All that's left is anger. More than just my own anger, about my family, which is a sad, dull, bruise-like feeling. This is bigger than that, bigger than me: more powerful, more dangerous. Exciting, almost. Like somewhere deep inside me a fire has been lit. And I can hear a chattering in my head like the chattering of the hundreds of birds on the lawns this morning.

And the car's coming closer and closer but she has to stop. I'm here. I won't let her pass. She's racing toward me and I can hear the growl of the engine growing louder and louder and maybe she's not going to stop, after all. I don't have time to get out of the way. I see her pale face through the windscreen, her wide screaming mouth. At the very last moment she swerves to one side and the silver car thunks into the bank at the side of the road with a tinkling of breaking glass. There's a moment of total silence and stillness. And for a moment I think that's it. Is she...?

No, now she's throwing open the door, climbing out of the driver's seat. She turns and looks at me and she is so scared, I can see it. But it's not enough. It's not enough for her to be scared. I need more. The Birds need more. The chattering grows louder, building to a roar. And she is sprinting away from me and maybe this is how a bird of prey feels when it sees a field mouse running through the grass because at the sight of her running I only feel the anger grow, the need grow. I am chasing after her. And now I'm gaining on her but she's pushing through the brambles at the side of the road and a small voice in my head, what's left of Eddie, thinks why that way? Not that way ...

I shove through the brambles after her and feel them tearing at the cloak and I have nearly got to her—just a little farther—and I sense darkness on the other side, darkness and space and nothing and at the last moment she turns back to me as though she's just changed her mind and snatches out a hand and I feel her pluck a feather free.

Another scream. I don't even know if it's her or me or real or inside my own head but suddenly she is gone.

I'm alone on top of the cliffs.

The smell of smoke from somewhere.

And everything quiet save the sound of the hot wind tearing in across the sea.

Oh, God.