The Nightwalkers

4 - Remnants

The boys gazed about nervously and took a few tentative steps towards the carnage.

Vincent went closer. Looking more and more uncertain with each step, he kept glancing back to his companions for support. They cowered back and huddled together.

As soon as Vincent got close enough to see the aftermath of the attack, he let out a shrill scream. There looking up at him were the ghost white, dried up, shriveled corpses of a man and a woman. The look of terror on their gruesome faces filled Vincent with sickening dread and fear.

The others were already running away by the time a trembling, screaming Vincent turned tail and scarpered.

...

Around 8am, a lone jogger came running by the scene. As she ran along the path, she noticed the couple lying just yards from the tent, perfectly still in the snow. People do such odd things, she thought. She continued running by, but her eyes kept flicking back to the pair. Still no movement, so she called out, "Lovely crisp morning, hey?"

No reply, they didn't even stir. She stopped running and nervously approached the couple lying on the snowy ground by the tent.

A split second later, shrill screams filled the early morning skies and could be heard all over the forest. A murder of drowsy crows was alarmed and agitated, the terrified birds took flight in blind, raucous panic. Somewhere in the distance, it set a dog off, barking wildly.

Moments later a man with a dog and two other joggers came rushing over to the scene. The excitable terrier yapped tirelessly until it grew irritating. Even the dog's well-groomed owner struggled to calm the terrified canine down. Within a few minutes, the police were on the scene and the area closed off.

Photos of the corpses were hastily taken before they were carefully lifted away for postmortem. The only footprints in the snow were those of the deceased, the joggers, the older gentleman and his small dog, and four unidentified pairs. There were none belonging to the culprits or their satanic dog. The tent and walkie-talkies were dusted for fingerprints, and the whole area was meticulously searched for any other clues.

Detective Superintendent Rupert Mahoy was on the scene soon after the CSI team and media had set up. He started asking questions of those first on the scene. Unsatisfied by what he heard, he instantly became suspicious of them. Could they collectively have done this dastardly deed, he wondered.

"There'll be more questions for each of you to answer," he said coldly staring at them in turn.

"Sorry young man I don't much care for your tone," said the distinguished older man with the dog, "I get the feeling you think it might have been us who committed these murders." The dog started yapping again.

"I didn't say anything about murder, you did. Remember that!" Mahoy replied smugly. He made a mental note to personally interrogate this likely ringleader back at the station, under 'extreme' conditions. He looked at each witness, they all suddenly looked nervous, guilt written all over their faces, two were looking fixedly at the ground.

"I think that just about wraps this case up," he muttered to himself with a wry smile.

Various police forces had been assisting on the spate of recent murders because the local force was more accustomed to traffic and litter violations and locating stray ponies. But they too were soon clearly out of their depth in such a case as this, especially when nationwide attention was now focused on them. The big guns were clearly needed and so a hotshot from Scotland Yard was drafted in. Mahoy, originally a New Forest local now living in London, had been selected by his seniors at Scotland Yard to take over the case. Though a new recruit, he had been promoted up the ranks with extraordinary speed.

As Mahoy walked over to the tent for one last look, something caught his eye, it glistened in the early morning light, lying on the snow surrounded by a few blades of grass that pierced the cold white layer. The object was a few yards from where the female victim had been lying. Mahoy walked over to it and knelt down to inspect it. He picked it up. It was a school prefect's badge. Curious, he thought, "And just how are you involved in all this?" he said to the badge. He called a junior officer over.

"Here, take this for forensics," he ordered.

"But Sarge its got your prints-" he tailed off seeing the glare from his superior's eyes.

"How many times do I have to tell you? I'm a Detective Superintendent and not a sergeant? If you must call me anything, then call me Super. Now get this off to forensics."

"Right away, Sar-"

"And take them all for questioning. Looks like I'll be doing the school run this morning - I think a prefect has lost his badge and I mean to return it to him," he said with a broad smile.

"But it's Saturday, Sar-" the subordinate promptly shut up seeing the anger in the boss's eyes once more.

"Did I say I was going today?"

"Uh...no, course not, sir."

"Our criminals had help from at least one school kid last night and I mean to bring him in for a very long detention." Mahoy laughed heartily under his breath at his own rapier wit.