Pig Island by Mo Hayder

Author:Mo Hayder [Hayder, Mo]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Fiction, General, Suspense, Thrillers, Mystery & Detective, Suspense Fiction, Journalists, Horror, Paranormal Fiction, Scotland, Occult Fiction, Sects - Scotland, Supernatural
ISBN: 9780143113607
Google: LBvQiDEGhEcC
Amazon: 0143113607
Publisher: Penguin Books
Published: 2006-01-01T19:00:00+00:00

‘I told you never to come here, Benjamin. Don’t come here and tell me this babble. Get away now. Before I use my axe.’

Maybe he raises the axe to show how serious he is, because Benjamin staggers away from the door in shock. Angeline hears a barrel being knocked over, the sound of feet shuffling in the soil, then the front door slamming shut and Malachi’s laboured, furious breathing in the living room. She leaps to the window, presses her nose to the pane and sees, from above, a man’s head. The moon is close to the horizon, but there’s enough light to make out the pale circle of skin showing through his thinning hair. He’s wearing a dark green jacket and Wellingtons and she stares at him in fascination as he moves his hands up and down in a strange spasmodic gesture. He turns in a complete circle, once, twice, as if he doesn’t know what to do – whether to knock again, or run. Then he stops.

Only a few yards away, outside the fence, lies a pig. Angeline hasn’t noticed it before but from the odd angle of its head she guesses it’s one of Malachi’s sacrifices, not cleaned up yet from the deliverance on Sunday. She can’t imagine what tools he’s used for the slaughter, but he’s split the animal into slices. When the insides came out he must have kicked them around in the dust because they are lying all over the place, already going a dark, hard red colour like dead liver.

Benjamin becomes very still, breathing quite hard, his shoulders going up and down. He takes a few steps forward, his hand up to his mouth, and peers down at the creature through the cloud of midges that have gathered above it. He mutters something, swishing the flies away. Hastily he holds his hands together in prayer, whispering feverishly, pointing to the heavens. She sees the creature through his eyes: she sees that its injuries look the work of a demon. It could be Faust’s ripped-apart corpse. Asunción read Faust to her once, sitting at the edge of the bed, whispering the words because the book was a secret between them and they’d never mention the devil in Malachi’s company.

The front door flies open behind him and Malachi steps out. Benjamin wheels round, a look of terror on his face: ‘Malachi – please – what is this? What abomination is living on Cuag—’ He falters. Malachi’s standing a few feet from the door, the axe held above his head, the moonlight glancing off it. ‘Malachi,’ he stutters, all the colour going from his face. ‘Malachi, please, I beg of you – what has happened to you? Who have you fallen into league with?’

‘Get away from my house.’ Malachi takes a step forward. ‘Do you hear? Get away and never come back:

Benjamin looks at the axe. He looks back at the pig and raises his hands cautiously. ‘I’m going,’ he mutters, backing away. ‘I’m going. But, Malachi, I beg you, you may have turned your heart against God but it’s not too late.

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