The Power and the Fury by James Erith

Author:James Erith [Erith, James]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fantasy
Amazon: B00GN9R0XC
Goodreads: 18867571
Publisher: Jerico Press
Published: 2013-11-01T00:00:00+00:00

Kemp watched as Chitbury kicked off and mounted another attack but after a couple of passes a shot flew high over the crossbar of goalkeeper Archie.

He reached into his pocket for his phone but, as he did, his hand touched a waxy piece of paper, like a sweet wrapper. With a frown on his face he tried to work out how it had got there. He smiled. Of course – it was from one of the packs of Haribos he’d stolen from Poppy – one of de Lowe’s girlie friends – at break. He’d stuffed it in his mouth and nonchalantly tossed one of the wrappers into the headmaster’s rose garden, where it stuck rather comically on a thorn and flapped in the breeze. He smiled.

But how come this one was folded?

Out of curiosity, he pulled it out, opened it up and stared at it. Strangely, the sweet paper was covered in random scribbles like a pile of spaghetti plonked on a plate.

Just as he was about to trash it, a few of the lines looked familiar. They’re kind of ... faces.

Kemp scanned it and turned it sideways and round again. And then three figures came out at him, like a “magic eye” puzzle revealing itself on the wrapper.

There were three clear faces staring back at him.

Then it struck him. It was the de Lowes! Absolutely, definitely, them; all smug and cheerful and ghastly. But, as he studied it, their faces seemed to melt away into the paper, like slush dripping through a gutter.

The next time he blinked, he was staring at nothing. Not a damn thing.

He turned the sweet paper over. It was blank.

Kemp felt a surge of excitement run through him. Was he seeing things? Was this some kind of joke?

He slapped his face and rubbed his eyes. Then he tried hard to remember what Archie had said, and scoured the area for a mysterious old man?

He looked at the wrapper again. It was changing gradually from white through grey to almost black, like the colour of the vast cloud above them. And then the words “HELP ME” started to appear in the form of tiny molten streaks of lightning on the paper, as if burning the words into it. He crumpled it up and thrust it in his overcoat pocket.

Kemp’s heart beat so fast that for a moment he felt as if he would vomit.

Instinctively, he started walking, faster and faster; as if walking might make it go away.

A few minutes later, he skipped up the series of wide Yorkstone steps to street level and tentatively made his way towards the houses that leaned in as though they were kissing. He peered down the dark alleyway but as far as he could tell it was empty, save for the black wheelie bins guarding it like sentries.

As he took his first step under the buildings, he noted how the oak-beamed houses on either side all but touched each other as if challenging one another like fighters. It reminded him of his duel with Williams.

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