The White Widow’s Revenge

“I’ve been watching TV,” said Lydia. “The news is full of stuff about the crimewave. They’re even saying it’s the start of a new Dark Summer. I’m guessing the escaped bison downtown belonged to a feral?”

“Yes,” said Caw. “I was there.”

Lydia’s eyes widened. “No way!”

“But that’s not all,” said Caw. “Lydia, I think the Mother of Flies is up to something.”

Any trace of excitement drained from Lydia’s face. “She can’t be. We stopped her.”

Caw shook his head. “I thought so too, but I’ve just been to the hospital. Selina has been kidnapped.”

Lydia gasped as Caw explained about the broken window and the flies. “Who else could carry her out of the window from four storeys up?” he said.

Lydia went wordlessly to her wardrobe, and began tugging on jeans over her pyjamas.

“Where are you going?” Caw asked.

“We are going to find out what’s going on,” said Lydia. She tied back her hair then pulled on a baseball cap.

“We are?” said Caw.

His friend started lacing up her trainers. “There’s one way to find out if the Mother of Flies has regained her powers,” said Lydia. “We visit her.”

Caw shook his head. “We can’t – she’s locked in Blackstone Loony Bin.”

“Er, it’s called a psychiatric hospital,” said Lydia.

“Sorry,” said Caw, blushing. “That’s what Crumb called it.”

“If she’s still there, I think we’ll find out what she’s capable of pretty quickly,” said Lydia.

Caw felt anxiety squeezing his heart. It had taken more than he knew he had to defeat the Mother of Flies the last time. And even then, the battle could easily have gone the other way. If she was back to her full power …

Lydia pulled on a jacket.

“I don’t think your parents are going to like this plan,” said Caw.

“Those two …” Lydia pointed to the floor, “probably won’t even notice I’m gone.”

Angry muffled voices filtered up through the carpet.

“We should at least tell Crumb,” said Caw. “And there’s a new guy – a coyote feral …”

Lydia nodded at her alarm clock – it was just after midnight. “You’re going to wake them up? We can hardly go into the asylum with an army,” she said. “Look, Caw – you only need me.”

She spoke firmly, but Caw could hear the faintest hint of a plea in her words. She needs to get away from here, he realised.

“You’re right,” he said.

“Great!” said Lydia breezily. A smile lit up her freckled face. “Let’s go catch some flies!”

(#ubd74fe34-b8d0-5989-95f6-cea913c802db)

s Caw and Lydia climbed down the drainpipe, Caw caught a glimpse through the living-room window of Mr Strickham slumped on the sofa, staring vacantly ahead.

“Maybe we should talk to your mum?” Caw said as his feet hit the ground, but he already knew what the answer would be.

“Please don’t, Caw. It’ll only set them off again. Besides, this is just a fact-finding mission. It won’t be dangerous.”

Caw instinctively scoured the garden for any foxes, glad not to find any watching them. Maybe Velma Strickham really had banished her foxes from her home. Caw felt a bit guilty about keeping things from her. But he’d done plenty for Mrs Strickham already, letting her invite everyone into his house. She didn’t need to know his every move.

“Let me get us a ride,” said Caw. He looked towards the sky and clenched his fists, ready to call the crows.

“Don’t,” said Lydia, touching his arm. “If there are flies about, they might see us.”

“Then how will we get there?” asked Caw. “The asylum is right on the edge of Blackstone.”

“The number sixty-two bus!” said Lydia. “It might be public but it’s under the radar.”

I’m not travelling on a bus, said Shimmer. It’s undignified.

“You three can meet us there,” said Caw. “Just keep low and out of sight.”

Ooh, a secret mission! said Screech, hopping along the top of the Strickhams’ fence. Exciting!

You’d better be careful, said Glum. They’ll probably want to keep you there indefinitely.

Very funny,said Screech.

“Will you quit it?” said Caw.

Lydia grinned. “Hey, it’s good to see you guys again,” she said.

It’s hard to fly in a straitjacket. Just saying, added Glum.

Keep up, old-timer,said Screech.

Unsurprisingly, Caw and Lydia were the only people on the bus. The driver didn’t even seem to notice them as they got on board. Caw found it strange to feel the soft rumble of an engine beneath him, and it reassured him to watch the crows keep pace outside. He’d only travelled by car or bus a handful of times in his life and it was a relief to step off when they reached their stop. The doors snapped closed and the bus pulled away into the night. Caw watched its red rear lights vanish over a hill.

They were right on the outskirts of Blackstone, where the city’s residential suburbs gave way to scattered industrial buildings, factories and farms. Caw had been here only once before, when he was much younger, exploring with his crows. The bus depot was half a mile up the road, according to Lydia, and there was no other traffic and no pavement.

The Blackstone Psychiatric Hospital sign was painted on a rotting wooden panel set just back from the road. The building itself looked more like a spooky old mansion than a hospital, perched on raised ground, its turrets and towers piercing the sky.

Looks homely, said Shimmer. I like what they’ve done with the bars on the windows.

“It’s one of the oldest buildings in the city,” said Lydia with a glimmer in her eye. “It was built in the early 1700s.”

Caw nodded mutely. The psychiatric hospital wasn’t all ancient though. There were a couple of ugly extensions on either side – plain, windowless, single-storey bunkers – sprawling across the grounds. Spotlights cast eerie pale arcs of light through the deep shadows. There was a mesh fence, about three metres high, and beyond that a wall. Caw shivered. If you were a patient here, you were obviously a prisoner too.