PROBLEM - Anthony Lockwood

CHAPTER FOURTY FIVE

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xlv

chaos, strife, pain and death

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"JUST IN TIME, Mr. Lockwood," sighed Saunders as he yelled at a group of workers. Lockwood and the others climbed the stairs eyeing the situation. "These troublemakers are refusing to let their teams work."

"It's not safe, and you know it!" Hissed a girl, "You call it risk, I call it suicide."

"Even I can sense it, and I haven't been able to see a visitor for 35 years!" a man snapped.

"Which is exactly why we have hired these agents, the best of the best to deal with the situation!" Sauders declared.

"Where's their uniform? Where's their supervisor?" the man cried.

"Myself and my team refuse to work anywhere near that grave until it's made safe - it's making us ill!" The girl hissed.

"Ignore them," Saunders hissed, "Get inside."

Lockwood put a hand on his arm, "If I could have one moment." He turned back towards the people, "Good evening, ladies and gentlemen," he announced, "My name is Anthony Lockwood of Lockwood and Co. and I'm here tonight with my team to assist you all. Now, I assure you, our safety is our number 1 priority."

"Get us proper agents! Get us Fittes or Rotwell!" the man yelled.

Alice walked forwards and stood beside Lockwood, "Sir, I guarentee you, we're some of the best agents in London," she tilted her head sightly as she spoke, standing confidently and speaking clearly. She let magic bleed into her words, "The only reason you haven't heard of us, is because we don't do our work for applause or attention. We work descreetly and bespokely."

Lockwood stepped forward, and the two of them made their way down the steps, closer towards the people. He turned towards the man, "Now, I am certain, no one knows this cemetary like you do. So, we will do nothing without a full consulation on what you have seen.

Alice turned to the girl, who stood in a crowd that was a mixture of sensitives and baby witches, "And you've clearly had a terrible experience, so take all the time you need. And when you and your team feel that you can, then you will have our undivided attention." She watched as one of the girls from before, the tarot reader, came forwards towards the girl and whispered something in her ear.

One of the baby witches.

Alice felt the magic come off of her as she spoke into the girl's ear. 'Convincing' her. Enchanting her.

The girl considered her for a moment before nodding, "Fine."

Both Lockwood and Alice smiled and turned, making their way into the building.

"I see what Fairfax meant about them being a good Jemima and Imran now," George grumbled as he and Lucy made their way inside, also.

"Sorry about that, I'm a bit short staffed at the moment," mused Saunders, "Joplin's got her head in a coroner's report somewhere."

"Unusual table you've got there," George commented.

"It's a catafalque, according to Joplin. God knows what it does," Saunders quipped.

"It's a lift to take coffins to the catacombs," Alice put her hands on her hips, "You really shouldn't be using it to serve biscuits. Unless you want to be cursed by a spirit for disrespect."

Saunders glared, "I'll work with what I've got." He sighed and handed Lockwood some papers, "Right, let's get this signed."

"What happened at the incident?" Lockwood inquired.

"Gravediggers mistimed it - got caught with an exposed casket as the sun set," he explained.

"Anyone see a visitor?" Lucy inquired.

"Sensitives can't get their stories straight," Saunders mocked, "Apart from the fact that they're all sick and need a lie down. No backbone, your generation."

Alice wanted to break his backbone for that comment.

"You said the casket was exposed?" asked George.

"Yes, but not open, that's your job," Saunders began to raise his voice, "You'll be on your own though, I'll not have anyone near that grave until it's made safe. I can't risk any more disruption."

"You said we'll be well supported," Lockwood protested, "This is not what we agreed." He clenched his jaw, "What if there are relic men - or some other kind of active visitors out there?"

"If you wish to complain, just complete the relavant paperwork," Sauders hissed condeseningly.

"I am not filling out more forms," Lockwood snarled.

"Suit yourself," Saunders quipped, picking up the papers, "But you're still under contract." And then he turned and left.

Lockwood ran a hand through his hair angrily, "We shouldn't even be here. We should be front page news."

Alice watched as he curled his hand into a fist. She grabbed his fist in her hand gently, forcing him to relax his hand and stop digging his nails into his palms. "Let's just get it done."

She wondered if that was the last time she'd ever hold his hand.

When they made their way towards the grave, Alice could feel the power beneath the soil. It was everywhere. Magic was thick in the air she breathed, stuck in the back of her throat like gasoline. It was volatile and chaotic.

Death.

And just like Combe Carey Hall, she had the terrible realisation that the others were going in completely blind.

And perhaps it would kill them this time.

"They really did leave in a hurry," George mused as he looked at the upturned soil.

"Ready?" Lockwood inquired.

They all turned off their flashlights.

Alice closed her eyes, letting the magic flow through her. She could feel it buzzing now, swarming through the air like flies. It was everywhere, and it was angry. Full of rage and strife. Like an acrid taste in her throat.

She wanted to be sick, she wanted to scream.

The energy wasn't just chaotic, it was purely unstable, and it was dangerous. It wanted her dead not because of anger but because it fed off of death. Because he fed off of death.

And he was hungry for power.

"There's no death glows, nothing else visible," Lockwood announced. "Got anything?"

"Nope," George replied.

"Some kind of... vibration," Lucy hesitated.

Alice opened her eyes, kneeling down and digging her hands into the soil as it thrummed with magic. "Buzzing. So much buzzing."

Lockwood and George exchanged a look and took out some iron chains.

Alice paled as she saw them, trying to focus her attention elsewhere.

Iron chains wouldn't be enough for him.

Just like iron bars weren't enough for you.

Alice turned away, screwing her eyes shut.

"....Deane..... Deane......"

She turned, her breath stuck in her throat.

"What can you hear?" Lockwood inquired.

Alice shook her head, "Nothing." She winced as George began to dig away at the soil with his hands.

They were walking straight into hell.