‘What will you do Sergeant Lenan’ asked Allan,

‘Philip Lenan answered passionately ‘I will remain in the army sir, it’s all I know’

‘And I will carry on preaching’ said the half cut Vicar, and both Philip and Allan wondered when was the last time he had preached.

They all sat in silence as the three men reminisced about the camp and what it meant to them, sipping their whisky and smoking the thick cigar, all three were glad to leave what it stood for, but no one would ever fail to remember it, the silence was only broken by the screams coming from outside, all three shot up immediately, the screams were like nothing they had ever heard, the two soldiers grabbing their arms as they heard shots being fired from outside, sprinted out of the door, followed by the vicar, what they saw was utter carnage as the three men recoiled in horror.

Two German prisoners were running out of their quarters, one had half his face bitten off, the other was carrying most of his stomach in his hands before collapsing in a heap on the ground,

Three British soldiers stood shooting into the hut with their rifles, the 4th lay just beyond them, body parts torn off and missing,

‘It’s a fucking Wolfe’ shouted one soldier as he pumped his rifle into the German quarters,

‘Hold your fire’ shouted Allan but as he said it he could not believe his eyes as the Wolfe pounced from the barracks and attacked his 3 troops, even as they pumped bullets into him, the wolf had all three on the ground, one soldiers throat was torn out, the other soldier was missing his eye socket, the 3rd soldier barely alive when Philip Lenan and Allan Herapath, finally brought it to the ground with their rifles, the Vicar stood and wet himself and took a swig out of the whisky he had grabbed when the others were grabbing their arms, ‘In the name of the good lord’ he gargled, as he took another swig.

The quarters were the worse, what death come upon them couldn’t have been quick, limbs had been torn off, body’s eaten away as the five German prisoners lay dead, the whole place covered in veins, gore and guts, their two comrades lay dead outside, along with 3 British soldiers and another who would last only a further 2 minutes, it was worse than anything they had seen during the war.

‘What the fuck’ said Philip as he prodded the dying animal with his rifle, careful not to get to close, the vicar had staggered over to them ‘the curse of the Devil so it is’

‘What kind of animal is it, this is Britain for heaven’s sake’ said Allan, he could see the creature was breathing still. Despite the many bullet holes in him,

‘It’s the Devils animal so it is’

‘Shut the fuck up’ Allan shouted and Andy the Vicar took another swig and dropped to his knees,

‘Were all going to die’ he said and then passed out on the floor’

‘How do we explain this sir?’ asked Philip as he looked at the carnage surrounding him.

‘Allan scratched his nose’ he put a bullet into the head of the animal, Allan Herapath, Philip Lenan and Andy Thomas the last persons the creature saw, the meals he didn’t get the day they took the fence down, he will remember them.

‘Think we need to think about this one’. Said the captain.

The German soldiers were buried, the hut that they died in was burnt to the ground, no prayers were said, no one able to find the right words, The British Soldiers were awarded Military honours, after a report of a heroic fight against the somehow armed Germans who had tried to make their escape, the creature was buried where the soldiers and prisoners had been taken down, no one ever spoke of it again, but for the three men all in their fifties, they would never forget, their worse memory of that world war was when the war was over in 1946.

By 1972 all 3 had passed away, not one of them had mentioned that day again, but they lived through it many many times, until death had become a blessing.

Chapter 11

‘Surely someone’s committing crimes’ said Philip to Sandra Skellam as he rubbed his chin, he had called her in for an update as to what was occurring in the town, they were sitting in the Sheriffs house, sat in the front room that had been converted into an office, just a chair and desk and filing cabinets, there was nothing on the desk other than a pen and a blank sheet of paper, Philip was sat in the chair, Sandra stood beside him, he still seem to tower over her even as he sat.

‘No sir, the sheriff has it all in order’ her voice was shaky as she spoke, it always was whenever she spoke to the top three.

Philip took the pen in his hand and rolled it through his fingers, it looked like a child’s crayon in his hands, he turned and looked up at Sandra, he arched his head and met her eyes, he could see the girl was nervous, he liked that,

‘Or are you just not doing your job, you and that other deputy’ he bore no expression, he just stared at her with his head tilted,

Sandra gulped, she didn’t want to be here, she didn’t want to be deputy of Underwood, she had her answered prepared and polished, her shaky voice not quite delivering it the way she intended,

‘There is no need for crime sir, you have built such a fine place it’s virtually crime free’

She wished she hadn’t said the word virtually, she was praying the judge didn’t pick up on it, she stood there like a child in front of the headmaster, waiting to be disciplined, she felt stupid and hated herself for it.

‘Get out and do your work’ came the reply, his eyes reverted back to his desk,

Sandra turned to leave, she couldn’t get out of there quick enough as she rushed to the door.

‘Deputy’ the judge shouted, Sandra’s heart raced, she turned back round,

‘This isn’t a virtual world’ he told her,

‘Yes sir’ she replied and left the building.

Philip got up to go to the bathroom, he needed a shave.

Their jobs were just to patrol the streets of Underwood, to have a visual presence, both Sandra and Dylan hated their jobs, more so Sandra, and sadly as it was most people hated them, or at least disliked them, they were decent people, caught up in a mixed up place, decent honest people given a job that no one wanted, people hated them because of who they represented, truth was neither Sandra or Dylan had ever reported a crime, they couldn’t even recall seeing any crimes, but if they had done they would not have reported it, people hated them for what they stood for and who they represented.

Resignation wasn’t an option in Underwood, you done as you were told or faced the consequences, or even worse, the woods.

‘What did he want ‘asked Dylan who was waiting outside for Sandra, it was just after 8am, the day was fine and warming up with the morning sun,

‘He wants us to start arresting more people’ she replied cynically,

‘Arrest them? What for?’

They turned the corner into Waltwood,

‘Living I guess’

‘Do you fancy a breakfast at the Club’ Dylan asked,

Sandra did but she wanted to go and see someone first,

‘You go I’ll see you later’

Dylan walked towards the pub thinking of Craig’s finest bacon and eggs, Sandra walked in the opposite direction to Hawthorne.

With there being no school, there wasn’t many people about, the shops didn’t open until 10am during the holidays, the only people at work at that time were those attending the crops and the cannabis plants, it wasn’t a long walk to Hawthorne, but she took her time, thinking of what she was going to say, and she was soon stood outside No.12, she knocked the door.

Ivy had gone back home and Nathan had come back from Samuels and had gone straight back to bed, neither Peter or Eileen taking much notice as they assumed the boys had been up most of the night talking, what they didn’t know was Nathan didn’t get much sleep because he couldn’t stop thinking about what happened the night before, he hadn’t seen what was in the woods, however he certainly heard it and he knew the old lady they pulled out had seen it, they could tell by the look on their face, he hoped and prayed she would not tell his dad.