Chrissy nodded. “It’s starting?”
“Yes. We knew something was coming. Well, I hope Ingrid Blumenthal got the vessel for the ritual. She was dealing with the Macedonian.” Carter frowned, lips pursed. “Come to think of it, I should have heard from her by now. It’s been weeks.”
“She’s a strange one,” Chrissy said with a shrug. “She’ll come through, right?”
“I hope so. I wonder why she’s been so… absent. Normally Talbot keeps me up to speed, but I haven’t heard from him in ages either.”
“Her husband?”
“And her brother,” Carter said distractedly.
Chrissy frowned, opened her mouth to say more, but he turned away. He went to the door of the pub and looked out into the night, sniffed the hot air.
The old woman who was always at the harbour stood on the low wall surrounding the water, staring up into the stars. The sea witch, the locals called her. Carter thought maybe it was a fair moniker.
She felt him looking and met his eye. Even from this distance, he saw her old face was twisted in concern. Carter lifted his chin in a question, and she nodded, resigned. She climbed down and shuffled away towards the lighthouse.
“You okay, boss?” Dace Claringbold asked, strolling up to the pub.
“Yeah, son, I think so. But gird your loins, we might have work to do soon.”
“You know me, Mr Carter. I was born ready.” He slipped past, heading in towards the bar.
“Time marches on,” Carter said to himself. “A new time is coming.”
He wondered what might be required of him soon. And he wondered why it felt like Ingrid Blumenthal wasn’t in town anymore.
Maddy Taylor sat in Clooney’s with Dylan, chatting to Rich, one of Carter’s newer goons. He’d only been around a year or so, she thought. Nice guy, but anyone who worked for Carter needed to be kept at arm’s length. He’d been telling her how he wasn’t from around The Gulp, but had found himself a place here. He seemed a little preoccupied as he talked about it, like he was trying to remember something else. Despite her concerns about having anything to do with Carter or any of his people, she had to talk to someone because all four members of Blind Eye Moon were sitting right there at the next table, drinking beer and chatting quietly. Dylan was mesmerised by their proximity. She was in danger of fangirling if she didn’t distract herself. Wait until she told Zack the band had just been hanging out in Clooney’s like regular people, in full make-up and everything. They weren’t playing a gig that night, but another local band was due to take the stage in an hour or so. Maybe they’d come for them. Imagine being a regular pub band, Maddy thought, and have Blind Eye Moon show up to your gig.
She noticed Rich and all four members of BEM were distracted, looking towards the front of the pub. She followed their gaze and saw Carter standing in the open doorway, looking out into the night, still as a statue. The man gave her the creeps. She didn’t want to think too much about what he was doing, but he looked weird framed by the doorway like that. The tableau looked, she thought, like a Blind Eye Moon album cover.
“He can feel it too,” Howard said.
Edgar nodded. “Of course. How could he not?”
“You think he’s got it in hand?” Shirley asked.
Edgar turned to the drummer. “We’ll see, I guess. He takes care of stuff usually, and leaves us alone. So I’m happy to return the courtesy. There’s something about him I don’t like, anyway. Let’s continue to enjoy the truce, shall we?”
“Do you think he’ll ask us for help if he needs it?” Clarke asked. “Or too proud?”
Edgar shook his head, took a gulp from his beer. “Not sure. Powers shift in this place all the time. For now, let’s get drunk and see if this band is any good.”
“Yeah, but this is bigger,” Shirley said. “Something major is unstable. Or changing. You can feel it, same as us. And if we all feel it, if Carter is concerned about it, we shouldn’t ignore it.”
“True,” Edgar said. “But let’s wait and see, yeah? If it needs our attention, so be it. If not, we let it be.” He grinned, shrugged. “Weird shit happens all the time in The Gulp.”
The End..?
Afterword
I hope you enjoyed this selection of dark weirdness. I’ve always been fascinated by life in country towns, especially Australian ones. And I’ve always loved harbour towns. I live in one, after all. The Gulp is not the town I live in, though its geography may seem familiar. The Gulp is a gestalt of many country towns, set in something that’s a version of many coastal regions. It’s a concept more than a place. Let’s all enjoy it from a distance and hope we never find ourselves there. Unless, of course, you enjoy this book enough that you’d like to revisit The Gulp through more stories like these. There are certainly more tales to tell…
Glossary
Throughout this book, I’ve used Australian English spelling, and a bit of Aussie slang. Hopefully this will help you decipher some of it.
Akubra – Akubra is an Australian hat manufacturer. The company is associated with bush hats made of rabbit fur felt with wide brims that are worn in rural Australia. The term ‘Akubra’ is sometimes used to refer to any hat of this kind, however the company manufactures a wide range of hat styles including fedora, homburg, bowler, pork pie, and trilby. The name is claimed to derive from an Aboriginal (possibly Birpai) word for a head covering.
arvo – slang for afternoon.
bumbag – fanny pack.
cunjevoi – the aboriginal name for a sea squirt that lives around the edge of the low-tide mark, and often forms mats over the rocks.
doona – duvet, continental quilt.
esky – an Australian brand (Esky) of portable cool box, but the word is commonly used generically for all portable coolers or ice boxes.
flannie – flannel shirt, usually red or blue checks.
grog – booze, any form of alcohol.
jaffle – a toasted sandwich.
parma – parmigiana, a way to prepare chicken with a tomato sauce, ham and cheese covered schnitzel. Regional arguments over chicken parma versus chicken parmi will never be settled in Australia.
RBT – Random Breath Test – roadside sobriety check.
schnitty – schnitzel, usually chicken or veal.
servo – service station. Petrol pumps and usually a small shop.
shag – a fuck.
tucker – food.
Woollies – common slang for Woolworths, a national supermarket chain.
Also by Alan Baxter
DEVOURING DARK
HIDDEN CITY
BOUND (Alex Caine Book 1)
OBSIDIAN (Alex Caine Book 2)
ABDUCTION (Alex Caine Book 3)
REALMSHIFT (The Balance Book 1)
MAGESIGN (The Balance Book 2)
SERVED COLD – Short Stories
CROW SHINE – Short Stories
THE ROO
MANIFEST RECALL
RECALL NIGHT
THE BOOK CLUB
GHOST OF THE BLACK: A ‘Verse Full of Scum
PRIMORDIAL (Sam Aston Investigations Book 1)
OVERLORD (Sam Aston Investigations Book 2)
SANCTUM (Jake Crowley Adventures 0)
BLOOD CODEX (Jake Crowley Adventures 1)
ANUBIS KEY (Jake Crowley Adventures 2)