“Gonna throw a bomb at that one. Watch on the screen, see what happens…”

Midnight Quatermass 26: Some new art, mountain terror and another passenger

The variant cover for this year’s Halloween collection dropped a few days ago.

Tim Bradstreet knocking it out of the park as usual. He’s done a few covers for my books over the years and its still a real kick to see a new one roll in. Our story in this one is called Long in the Tooth. A werewolf story. Sort of. And a few nods to other things.

Keep an eye on Dave’s feeds (@Cherrysheriff on most platforms) by the way as he has a new MATRIX poster coming out that will blow your mind. Really.

I was asked earlier today about movies with a John Carpenter vibe and specifically 1950s sci-fi so I figured I’d talk a little about a favourite one here. I’m ignoring the obvious one, THE THING FROM ANOTHER WORLD (1951), and also ones that I know John admires like THE CREATURE FROM THE BLACK LAGOON (1954) in favour of one that we’ve discussed a few times together and seems to be more of a direct influence on his work despite hardly being talked about.

THE TROLLENBERG TERROR (1958) aka The Crawling Eye aka Creatures from Another World is a little maligned these days thanks to its final act reveal of what’s been chomping on climbers up in the Swiss mountains. It’s also been badly edited into mutilated shorter versions and had the piss taken out of it on crap like MST3K. It’s a disgrace really as it’s a tight little sci-fi chiller for the most part and really deserves to be reevaluated and looked after properly.

Also if you can get your hands on the German DVD release you’ll be treated to a feature-length commentary from John himself.  That said It’s a few years since I’ve watched it myself so what follows is all off the top of my head. Try and see it and then let me know what I got wrong.

The plot is simple enough, but is kicked off by one of my all-time favourite opening movie scenes:

A cold mysterious fog you say…

Back on the mountain people are disappearing whenever this fog rolls down from above which rattles the scientific research facility below. The lead scientist is the wonderful Warren Mitchell and it’s him and the rest of the supporting cast that provide an anchor for the movie. Like the much more successful and influential QUATERMASS movies this was based on a six part British serial which is now sadly lost. As well as trimming the running time someone decided to add a little international appeal by adding an American character so it’s Forest Tucker who leads the plot in much the same way he did in Val Guest’s THE ABOMINABLE SNOWMAN (1957) the year before. Love interest and paranormal duties are provided by Jennifer Jayne and Janet Munro who both had quite the effect on ten-year-old Carpenter.

My favourite scene features a reanimated corpse, but the kicker is that he’s as oblivious to the fact as his companions who welcome him back into the warmth of the inn. You can draw a straight line from here to the undead scientists in PRINCE OF DARKNESS (1987). There’s a rescue mission to an isolated hut that has the same flavour as parts of THE THING (1982) and a siege that could be taken straight from a number of John’s movies along with other influences like RIO BRAVO (1959).

The suspense right up until the monster reveal is actually quite taut and it’s a shame that the final effects - which to be fair also includes a bombing run by fucking English Electric Canberras - are so shoddy. But by the time they’re on screen you don’t really care because you’re smart and care about great movies, faults and all.

These things are to be cherished and not mocked.

Unlike books of course. Because books are for eating. At least according to my new writing partner, Cooper:

A week or so in and things are going swimmingly despite the fact that his feet can’t touch the ground outside until his immunisations kick in. Only four weeks or so to go. Jesus Christ. But I have never been as popular as I am when I’m holding this cute fucker in a coffee shop.

Seriously, if you wanna make new friends get a puppy. As I’m writing this (a tad late) he’s passed out on my feet. Once I hit send he’ll reposition himself and go to bed on my head until the kids surface in four hours to put us both through our paces again.

If any coffee companies want to sponsor the newsletter I’m all ears.

Growing up one of my favourite shows was Randall and Hopkirk (Deceased) so it was more than a little sad to see that Keneth Cope died recently. The guy was working in TV constantly, but also popped up in great movies like X THE UNKNOWN (1956), the only good DUNKIRK movie in ‘58 and one of my all time favourite Oliver Reed flicks, THESE ARE THE DAMNED (1963).

His Marty Hopkirk though was one of the great late 60s/early 70s British genre characters and its a show that still stands up. I also have a soft spot for the Vic Reeves and Bob Mortimer remake, but find that any episode of the original that pops up is unskippable no matter how many times I’ve seen it.

But time marches on...

Story time.

PASSENGERS II

The passenger stands at the kerb of the bus depot. Her red hair is tied back in a ponytail under a faded Baltimore Ravens baseball cap. She wears a jacket despite the heat unlike the others milling around behind her. She’s also the only person with no baggage at all.

A black Lincoln Town Car pulls up in front of her. She leans down to make eye contact with the driver as his window rolls down. He’s 40-something and kinda sour looking.

“Travis?”

Her eyes move past the driver to the young overweight man leaning forward from the back seat.

“Who’s the kid?”

In answer the kid holds up a cardboard tray. A trio of Starbucks coffee cups and a bag of bear-claws.

The driver squints one eye, unsure of how this is going to go.

“Pauly. Ride-along. Boss’ orders.”

He shrugs in a what can you do? kinda way.

Travis stands upright and lets out a breath of air. Two minutes in and the gig is already FUBAR. She turns to look at the bus that brought her here preparing to roll out again. The line of passengers waiting to board it look dumber than the ones she rode out here with. Fuck that.

She climbs in the car and sits next to the driver.

“Josh,” he says offering her his hand. She takes it.

Pauly’s hand shoots out between them holding one of the Starbucks cups.

“Gotcha a coffee frappe with cream!”

She turns and looks at him as if he’s an idiot. Decides that he is.

As the car moves off from the depot a full Starbucks cup is tossed through the passenger side front window and hits the sidewalk with a splash.

~

Five minutes later and Pauly is on his second bear claw.

“You wanna check it?”

She looks down at the green canvas bag at her feet.

“Do I need to?”

Josh has his eyes back on the road.

“Followed your instructions to the letter.”

She looks out the side window at the scrolling desert.

“Those instructions also specified a driver. No one else.”

As if this was was a cue Pauly’s sticky paw leans in from the back and turns the radio on. Josh immediately moves his own hand and switches it off.

“Not my call. His old man wants him to learn the ropes. We all gotta start somewhere right?”

Pauly leans forward again, grinning with the last half of the bear-claws in his mouth.

“I’m not that bad when you get to know me.”

Travis closes her eyes.

“I need a coffee.”

Pauly looks confused.

“But I just...”

“Real coffee.”

Josh smiles and hits his indicator.

“I know just the place.”

The car pulls across the lanes and makes for the next exit.

~

The Town Car is parked behind a row of yellow taxi cabs. A cluster of cab drivers are playing cards at a table outside under a sun-battered canopy for shade.

Travis leans on the car sipping her black coffee from a plain polystyrene cup. The driver, Josh, also has one while Pauly sits in the car with the door open holding his Starbucks. The kid has got one hand up over his eyes to fend off the sun as he stares at the sky.

“Hey, is there an-air show on today?”

Travis and the driver look up to see a tight formation of four jets overhead. As they watch one of the lead jets suddenly veers straight up and away from the other three who fly on out of sight. The chatter of the cab drivers has fallen away as they watch.

Pauly stands, grinning.

“That was cool! You think they’ll come back and do a loop or something?”

Travis sips her drink, speaking quietly.

“U.S. Navy Hornets. There’s a military cemetery nearby?

Josh nods.

“Lynchwood. You thinking funeral?”

“Missing man formation. Plane that left the group went straight up to the heavens. Fellow pilots went on without him. Or her.”

Pauly’s mouth is a perfect O as he looks at her.

“These things aren’t supposed to be subtle,” she says. And then to Josh, “Coffee’s good.”

Josh nods to the group of men sat nearby as they resume their own conversation.

“Cab drivers know their shit. The good ones anyway.”

One cab driver is sat away from the others. He’s in his mid-sixties and is looking at a dogeared notebook as if it contains all the answers he ever needs.

Travis drains her drink.

“11am. We’re on the clock.”

They climb back into the car, but this time Travis takes the back seat pulling the green canvas bag in with her as Pauly settles down next to Josh.

None of the cab drivers care enough to watch them leave.

~

Pauly turns the radio back on. The driver turns it off again. Travis wonders how many times they did this on the way to pick her up. Abbott and fucking Costello.

“How much do you think it costs to fuel one of those planes?”

No one answers. Travis narrows her eyes a little. Josh closes his. For just a second. Here we go.

“I mean it costs a fucking fortune to fill this car and those things are huge and jet fuel can’t be cheap, man.”

“You got a point rattling around in there somewhere?” Travis asks.

“I’m just sayin’ that’s our tax dollars at work just so some dead guy can get--”

Josh interrupts him with a small laugh.

“You pay taxes, Pauly?”

“Not the point. It’s the fucking principal.”

Travis leans down and picks up the green canvas bag. Rests it on her lap. Looks hard at the back of Pauly’s head.

“How old are you, Pauly?”

“Twenty. Why?”

“Because, Pauly, if you’d have said twenty-one I’d have shot you in the back of your dumb fucking head.”

Pauly turns angrily only to find his neck suddenly caught in Travis’ vice-like grip. She leans in.

“I did most of my growing up when I hit twenty-one. Everything before then was uninformed opinion and not worth shit. So I reckon you have less than a year to learn to think before you speak if you wanna see twenty-two.”

She lets the kid go and this time its the driver who turns before Pauly can do or say something he’ll regret.

“Listen to the woman, Pauly. That’s good advice. There’s a reason she’s here. There’s a reason your family pay her and pay her well.”

Pauly is not listening as he rubs his neck.

“She touches me again and--”

Josh sighs. This fucking idiot.

“Pauly, she doesn’t care. She knows who you are and who your family are and she doesn’t care. She understands the repercussions and she still doesn’t care. Think on that for a while will you.”

Travis has unfolded the bag and begins assembling the parts there in.

“Few years back the military flew its dead back in the luggage holds of passenger aircraft. More expeditious. Unloading coffins on the tarmac to save your tax dollars. The same loaders and handlers that take some business-fuck’s baggage off the plane.”

The parts in her lap are beginning to take shape.

“Dead soldiers treated like that didn’t sit right. Congress intervened and now the coffins are brought home on private chartered aircraft. Met with an honour-guard. Not some minimum-wage fuck with a forklift truck. Do you see why that’s important, Pauly?”

She looks through an unattached scope at the landscape passing by outside.

Pauly is slowly getting it and turns to Josh.

“Look, tell her I was just--”

She attaches the scope to the weapon with a satisfying click.

“It’s important how a society honour its war dead. We live in the most civilised age in the history of humanity. Most people die in their beds, but we still ask kids younger than you to go to a place they couldn’t find on a map and bleed out screaming for their moms. The very least we can do is bring them home right.”

Pauly looks down at his knees.

“I’m sorry.”

Then he turns nervously.

“So you were in the service?”

She doesn’t answer, but with a final click the fully assembled sniper’s rifle she’s holding is complete. The barrel is wide and thick. Now the suppressor is fitted the whole thing is just over three and a half feet long.

“Holy shit! Look at that fucking thing...”

She lets in rest in her lap.

“Russian. Vykhlop. They call it The Exhaust.”

She looks past Pauly at the road ahead. They’ve been climbing the winding back road for a while. Up ahead to the left is an unsigned dusty access road.

“That the place?”

Josh nods as he slows.

“That’s it. Close enough?”

She loads a single 55mm cartridge into the rifle.

“Perfect. Just pull in.”

The Town Car stops and Josh turns the engine off. It’s deadly quiet. No traffic in sight. Down in the valley below sits a smattering of expensive looking buildings.

They are very very small.

The window comes down as Travis makes herself comfortable with the rifle. The thick suppressor rests on the door.

Josh has produced and is looking through a pair of binoculars. Pauly has his hands pressed against his ears, straining to look past the driver.

Travis looks down the sight.

“No need to cover your ears. This is about the only rifle in the world that won’t blow all our eardrums if I fire it in here.”

She lifts her eye from the scope to look at Josh who is glued to the binoculars.

“White shirt at two o’clock.”

“That’s him. He wears a vest even inside and those windows are--”

She puts her eye back to the scope.

“Doesn’t matter.”

She clicks the safety off the rifle and moves her finger over the trigger and lets a single breath out.

The rifle fires once.

It’s ridiculously quiet.

Travis is already breaking the weapon down.

“Let’s go. I can make the early flight.”

Josh starts the engine and puts the car in gear.

Pauly looks disappointed.

“I didn’t see shit. Are you sure he’s dead?”

Travis tosses him the single bullet casing. It’s fucking huge.

“As a doornail.”

She places the rifle back into its canvas bag back and lets it rest on the floor. She leans back in her seat and closes her eyes.

Pauly looks at the casing in his palm.

“Jesus…”

~

The Town Car pulls up at the drop-off point right behind a black and white police car. Travis exits the back and nods to Josh. Pauly jumps out and opens the trunk.

Josh offers his hand through the open window.

“Nice working with you.”

She doesn’t take the hand, but instead watches Pauly pull a black hold-all out of the trunk. He offers it to her. She just looks at the ground until he gets the message and drops it at her feet.

“Dude, your lace is undone.”

She puts her right foot up on the hold-all and begins to re-fasten the boot. As she does so the material of her jeans is pulled up to reveal the lower half of a prosthetic limb.

Pauly’s eyes go wide then wider still as a fat cop comes over to stand between them, giving the kid the stink-eye. He turns to Travis as she picks up the hold-all.

“Afghanistan?” he asks.

Travis nods and the cop holds out his hand. She takes it.

“Thank you for your service. Need help with your luggage?”

She pulls the hold-all over her shoulder.

“It’s just carry-on. Thanks anyway.”

The cop nods. Looks at Pauly then the driver and walks back to his partner at the car.

“Get in the fucking car, Pauly,” says Josh.

The car pulls away before Pauly even has the door shut.

Travis is already walking through the airport entrance.

Not even a limp.

A huge Stars & Stripes hangs above her.

A few seconds later and she’s lost in the crowd.

It’s a late one and its chilly enough in London at 2am that you’d think the fog was rolling in…

Stay warm and I’ll see you next week.

Mike