The Tide of Terror

Chapter One

Chapter OneAS Jenny ran around the corner, she could hear the voices quite clearly. She'd received the call not ten minutes ago and had responded with her usual efficiency. As the only veterinary nurse for the local community, she was on twenty-four hour call. She had just been settling down with a cup of tea when a worried sounding voice blurted down her mobile, “Come quick, we've found a hedgehog!” Nothing sensational about that, but when they told Jenny it was a blond hedgehog, she reacted instantly. They were a protected species and, as such, had to be given whatever help was necessary.

“Here she is,” shouted Tommy Newby, the boy who had called Jenny in the first place. He ran up to her, his face looking concerned. “It seems injured, Jenny. Like it's been attacked or something.”

Jenny nodded and came forward. They were all gathered there, a small knot of children all oohing and aahing as they looked down at the little round, spiky ball at their feet. Amongst them was Mrs Strickland, the Year Four teacher from the school. She did not look happy. But then, Jenny thought sadly, she never did.

“This is a ridiculous waste of time,” snapped Mrs Strickland. “You should let nature take its course.”

Deciding to ignore the comment, Jenny got down on her haunches and tenderly turned the little animal over.

Blond hedgehogs are almost identical to their brown cousins, except for two very distinct differences. One, they are blond – hence their name – and two, they have no natural predators. This gives them a distinct disadvantage, unfortunately, as they can be more trusting than their brown relatives. Their main enemies being usually domestic cats and dogs, or very rarely the occasional seabird. But no animal had bitten this one. It looked as though someone had stabbed it.

They were all standing between the tracks of the railway line that ran along the rear of the school. High hedges flanked each side and against one were the gardens of some rather large and impressive houses. Jenny wondered if the little hedgehog had been found in one of these gardens and been attacked, the owner thinking it was a pest, which wasn't true.

This is not a tooth mark Jenny said to herself. It looked very similar to a stab wound. It was clean, not ragged. She frowned. What could have happened?

Mrs Strickland must have heard her thoughts. “Well, whatever it is, just put it under that bush and let it die.”

The children gasped in shock.

“No, Jenny!” Leona Lawrence the prettiest and cleverest girl in Mrs Strickland's class shouted. “You have to help it, please.”

“Don't worry,” said Jenny gently picking up the little animal in her hands, “we are honour bound to look after these little fellows.”

“Well I think it's a total waste of time, if you ask me.”

Jenny shot Mrs Strickland a sharp look. Why did she always have to be so angry? Didn't she know how to lighten up? “Well, fortunately, I'm not you, Mrs Strickland.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Nothing.” She gently placed the little hedgehog into a holding box and looked around at the concerned faces of the children. “He'll be fine. If you like, some of you can visit the surgery later on and make sure he's okay.”

All the children gleefully accepted. Tommy tugged at her sleeve. “Thanks, Jenny,” he said.

“No, thank you Tommy.” She smiled at the little boy, who couldn't have been more than eight. “You did the right thing.”

“A waste of time,” spat Mrs Strickland.

Jenny had had enough. Standing up, she confronted Mrs Strickland with a hard look of her own. “Mrs Strickland, I've got to say, I'm a little surprised at your attitude, especially,” she looked around her, “in front of all the children.”

“All of this Good Samaritan business is nonsense! What would happen if we weren't here, eh? What would become of it then?”

“But we are here, Mrs Strickland and we can't just simply stand by and let a poor, defenceless animal die without trying to do something to help.”

“Poor defenceless…it's a wild animal, dear. It has to fend for itself.”

“That's where you're wrong, Mrs Strickland. We don't know why this species is as it is, but this is the only place on Earth where it's found and it is therefore protected, by law. It's my job to uphold that law. And, if you were to take the time to look at its injuries, you would see that they were obviously man-made! So, if we weren't here, Mrs Strickland, it would never have happened, would it.”

“I never taught you,” continued Mrs Strickland, ignoring Jenny's barbed words, “you're an outsider. But if I had, I would have taught you a thing or two about respect.”

“What, like the respect you have for living things, Mrs Strickland?”

“I have plenty of respect for that. I have a biology degree from Durham University. I've worked on various environmental projects and I can assure you, Miss, that I am probably a great deal more qualified than you when it comes to dealing with wild animals. Now,” she span about, dismissing Jenny with contempt, “it is almost the end of lunch time, children – back to school.”

The children groaned but obediently fell in line behind Mrs Strickland as the tall, gangly teacher strode ahead towards the school gates. Tommy and Leona remained for a few moments longer, both of them smiling at the veterinary nurse. “We'll see you at around half-four,” said Leona quietly.

“I'll look forward to it. Will you be coming, Tommy?”

Little Tommy Newby beamed, his eyes glinting with joy, “You try and stop me!”

The veterinary surgery was small, but well equipped. Mr McGregor, the vet, would visit twice weekly and he always filled his time with catching up on all the various animal problems that had occurred since the last time he had been there. Jenny worked hard, and she was knowledgeable but often she felt a little out of her depth. This was one such occasion. As she lay the tiny little blond hedgehog down on the surgery table, she couldn't help but bite back the tears.

Whatever had struck the little creature, it had been deliberate. As Jenny peered more closely, she could clearly see that beside the main wound, there was another, much shallower puncture. And a third, barely a bruise. They were evenly spaced. She straightened up and closed her eyes, saying softly, “Pitchfork.”

“Is your shop open?”

Jenny started at the voice and turned to see Mrs Fielding, the school nurse standing there, all bristling forearms and wild shock of auburn hair. She was a formidable looking woman, but was actually quite sweet. Jenny smiled. “Sorry, Mrs Fielding. Yes, I'll be over in a minute. I've just got to clean up this little chap.

Breezing into the room, and almost filling it with her bulk, Mrs Fielding peered down at the tiny creature. “Hmmm…looks like it's been stabbed.”

“Yes. I'm afraid I think you're right. Pitchfork I would say.”

“More than likely. Where did you find it?”

“The children did. Down on the railway line. It could hardly move, the poor thing. It's lost quite a lot of blood.”

“No doubt someone found it in their garden. People don't know much about them. Think they're vermin.”

Jenny didn't comment further. She didn't have to. Mrs Fielding's words spoke the truth. Sometimes Jenny despaired at how ignorant some people could be.

“What are you going to do with it?” continued Mrs Fielding.

“Keep him warm and safe. The shock may well kill him, but they are tough. Only time will tell.”

“Well, I think it's admirable what you're doing, Jenny. These creatures are unique.” She looked up. “I need some bird seed. Any chance?”

Jenny checked the hedgehog throughout the day. It was quiet, sleeping most of the time. She had cleaned the wound and fortunately it didn't seem infected. She had no way of knowing if damage had occurred to any internal organs, but Jenny was hopeful. The bleeding had stopped and when she had given it a tiny piece of dog-food it had munched it down quite happily. Always a good sign. So, when the children arrived after school, Jenny was pleased to tell them that, up to now, the little chap seemed to be holding up well.

“Can I hold him?” asked Tommy eagerly.

“No, not yet. Maybe in a day or two. It's still touch and go. Delayed shock can be very dangerous.”

“Shock? What's that?”

“How the body reacts to a major trauma – accident, or attack, like this one. Often wild animals seem perfectly fine, that they've suffered no damage at all. Then they simply just die. It happens a lot with wild birds.”

“I rescued a sparrow,” said Leona, “we gave it some biscuits and water and put it in a shoebox. All of its wings were tatty, as if it had been attacked.”

“Probably by a cat.”

“Yes. That's what my dad said. It seemed fine, then when we got up in the morning, it was lying dead on the bottom of the box.”

“Well, all I can say is, I'll try and keep him quiet throughout the night, then we'll see how he's doing in the morning.”

“What is that awful smell?” Leona took a step back, holding her nose. Tommy soon followed her, making a face.

Jenny laughed. “It's him! Hedgehogs really stink, sorry to say, even when they're perfectly healthy. I think it's got to do with where they live and all the things they eat – like tasty slugs.”

“Yuck!” Both children chorused in unison.

“You just have to get used to it.”

“Don't think I could ever get used to that.”

Jenny just smiled.

“Will you let us know how he gets on?” Tommy was the first to recover and his eyes were now wide with eagerness.

“Of course I will! I'll meet you at the school gate tomorrow morning. I start work here at seven, so I'll see you a bit later on.”

“Thanks Jenny. And thanks for letting us see him. He's beautiful.”

“Yes he is. Let's hope he stays that way!”

Living in the small flat that was upstairs from the main kennels, Jenny could make her way down to the surgery and shop within minutes. The whole complex surrounded a forecourt on three sides. The main entrance gates were almost always open and the notice on them stated, quite clearly, that there was a 24-hour emergency number where people could contact Jenny with their animal problems. But it wasn't her telephone that woke her, or someone ringing the bell on her front door. It was the sound of birds.

Rubbing her eyes, she went over to the main window and looked down into the forecourt. The main security light was on. Two dogs in the boarding kennels were not barking, so she didn't think anyone had come in. All the doors were closed. No windows were open. It was all clear. But there was something. A strange, intermittent sound. Like scurrying. She pulled on her dressing gown and wandered downstairs.

It was nearly dawn, a few streaks of purple and orange beginning to spread across the eastern sky. It promised to be a good day, despite the old rhyme of 'red sky in the morning, sailors' warning', which she knew to be untrue. As she stepped outside, however, she noticed the chill. The air was sharp, but there was something else. It didn't seem quite natural, somehow. She had the unnerving impression someone was watching her and she felt the first few tingles of fear flittering inside her stomach. Perhaps she had been a little too eager to investigate. People had often talked about her living alone at the site, how dangerous it could be. She'd always dismissed these concerns, claiming she was more than capable of looking after herself. But now, given this atmosphere, perhaps there was some truth in what people had said. She shivered. Very slowly, she began to make her way inside, there being nothing to see.

The shadow crossed the forecourt across to her right. She whirled around, instinctively ducking, but there nothing there. Breathing quietly through her mouth, she scanned the outbuildings. They were all quiet. Carefully, she stepped out into the forecourt proper and looked upwards, across the roofs of the kennels, the surgery and the shop. Nothing. Muttering a silent oath, she decided to check on the hedgehog, given that she was now wide awake.

Taking her time, she quietly unlocked the door and went inside. The tiny orange glow from the comfort light was the only illumination in the room, but she could clearly see the little blond ball curled up inside its box, and the smell was as unmistakeable as ever. She went up to it and checked that he was breathing, smiling when she realised he was still alive. As she straightened a curious thing happened. Its little head popped out and for the briefest of moments its eyes met hers and she had the strangest feeling that the little creature was looking at her with fondness, even gratitude. She frowned, surprised that a wild animal could show such emotions, as the hedgehog put its head back into its protective cocoon of soft, blond spines. For a long time she simply stood there, hardly daring to breathe or blink. Then she shook her head, dismissing what she'd witnessed as a fanciful and silly idea, no doubt brought about by her just having woken up. Smiling at her own silliness, she went back outside.

She stopped, frozen in the act of locking the door.

Opposite her, standing along the roof of the boarding kennels, in a perfect line, were six birds. All different species and all of them standing motionless, watching.

Suddenly, the one in the middle, a huge and beautiful gannet, lifted up its head, let out a raucous cry, and then they all took off, flapping their wings hard, before disappearing into the still cold and chilly morning sky.

Without waiting, Jenny ran into her flat as quickly as she could, slammed the door shut, and stood, fighting for breath, not daring to believe what she had seen.

Her throat felt dry and tight. Her heart pounded.

Those birds had been staring straight at her.

Straight into her very soul.