Chapter 20: The Attempt and Not the Deed.

"Evenin' Post! Get yer Evenin' Post 'ere" The paper seller yelled, "Concert goers - disappear... Where are the missing fans?" The burly man paused and turned to the news vendor. "Give us one mate." He asked, slipping his coins into the newsprint covered hand. He unfurled the paper and read avidly as he walked home. Once there, he threw the paper down on the kitchen worktop and brewed the first of many coffee's he would consume that evening. Coughing hoarsely he carried the splashing, steaming cup to the lounge. The cup was deposited on a small table, before the man slumped into his grubby armchair, and absentmindedly flicked on the T.V. via the remote.

"Breaking news, following the disturbance at the Carling Academy the mystery deepens as hundreds of fans are now unaccounted for. Reports of girl's walking out of schools and offices across the county. What does all this mean? We speak to Childline experts and the eminent Professor of Child Psychology at Bristol University. Elsewhere, reports of a dead swan spark fears of 'bird flu' in the South West. We have exclusive footage of a swan, to aid viewer's to identify them accurately. Over to swan expert Dr Ivan Necrosis."

"Dr Necrosis, how do the public identify dead swans?" "Ah, yes interesting, in general they fly and swim less than other swans." Came the curt reply.

"Fuckin' idiot reporters." The man spat, and turned off the T.V. He arched his body and rummaged in the tight pocket of his jeans. Triumphantly he finally extracted his mobile phone, before his thick fingers flashed nimbly over the buttons. He stuck the phone to his ear and waited for a reply.

Fizz and his small band of helpers approached the darkened walls of the ancient castle. Perspiration dribbled down Fizz's back, he really wasn't built for this level of stress. He jumped at the sudden raucous sound of the 'Lambada' blaring out from behind him. He swung around, his eyes full of blame and stared straight at Bill. The accused shielded his reddening face as he answered his phone call. "Yup, what! Really, yeah I'll tell the others. No, no sign yet. But I will find her. Yeah sure, course I will. Thanks mate. Bye."

Fizz approached Bill as he pocketed the phone. "Now do I need to point out that we are on a dangerous mission here? I myself don't fancy meeting one of these things and serenading it with the Lam - fucking - bada! Please switch the phone off. Now, Bill."

Bill flashed his eyes in temper."Here doc, this might just be useful to know. Of course if you ain't interested ferget it!"

Jolene stepped forward.

"Boys, boys, you are both right, OK? Now what was the information Bill?"

"Well as it's you," Bill growled, looking through his bushy eyebrows at Fizz, "Seems that lots of fans that were at the Bitches concert the other night have now disappeared. They are planning summat - you know?"

Fizz smiled ruefully. "That is useful to know. But could you please turn the phone off now Bill?"

"Of course," Bill grumbled, and switched the phone to silent mode; before slipping it back into his pocket quickly. "Who made him leader anyways?" Bill muttered to no one in particular.

Fizz plodded on, as he too muttered quietly, although murderously, to himself. Soon they reached the first problem, the castle was securely locked. Fizz regarded the bolt-strewn door with dismay. Out of all his various thoughts this was the one thing that hadn't occurred to him. His frustration boiled over. "Shit, we will never get in here!"

"Well it might take me 30 seconds to pick that inset door." Bill grinned.

"You can pick locks?" Fizz asked.

"Oh yeah, builders often have to get into houses. People either forget we are coming, or lock us all out." Bill explained.

"Get on with it then." Fizz responded gruffly.

Bill stepped forward gleefully and set about his task.

"Take it easy on him Fizz." Jolene soothed.

"He's a liability."

"Without him, you and I would be stuck out here." Fizz's face softened.

"Point. As always, you are more forgiving than me. And, of course, right."

"My love, it's not easy, I know that. But we will do it - together."

Fizz blinked at the comment, she, that was Jolene had used the love word - about him. Could it be true? Before he could question her further, he was interrupted.

"Come on then, we're in." Called Bill excitedly. Once Jolene stepped over the threshold, Bill swung the door shut. The adventure was now upon them.

Emily wandered down the side of the M4, as her skimpy dress was plastered to her skin by the gusts from the passing lorries. She knew this made no sense, she knew her mum would be crazy with worry. But none of that mattered; she had to get to the 'meeting place'. Not that she even knew where the 'meeting place' was or why she wanted, no - needed, to get there. She just did, it was expected. West, she had to head west, and that meant Wales. Emily sighed, and stuck out her thumb resolutely. To her amazement an Audi A3 screamed onto the hard shoulder and stopped a hundred yards ahead of her. She ran, hard, towards the brake lights.

"Wales?" She gasped, into the open passenger window.

"Do you know how dangerous, no to say illegal hitching on a motorway is?" Asked the shadowed face of the woman driver.

"Yeah, I'm an idiot. But you see I just have to get to..."

Emily was interrupted by a more conciliatory tone. "Somewhere to the west? In Wales?"

"Yes, how do you know?" Emily asked, slack jawed.

"Me too. Were you at the concert?"

"Bitches? Yeah, were you? You look a bit..." Emily faltered.

"Old? Yes, I suppose so. I'm an original fan. Look love, get in - before you freeze to death, or worse!"

"Thanks, I'm Emily."

"Rita. Let's get where we're going - huh."

Emily was thrown back in her seat by the force of the cars sudden acceleration.

Slowly the impromptu rescue party searched the castle. Frustratingly there was little sign of anything unusual. Jolene sighed. "There's nothing here, the place is just deserted."

"That's the way it looks, damn!" Cursed Fizz, he glanced around - still wary of Bill's presence. Sure enough the fool had disappeared. "Oh great, where is Mr Personality? I expect he's stopped to download a ring tone."

Bill popped up from behind a low wall. "I have been following my instincts as a historian and a builder." He snapped.

"A historian!" Fizz's face cracked and he roared with unkind laughter. "Now I have heard everything."

"Oh titter yea not Dr Spock! I have found something, a doorway to a cellar. Sometimes even the non-academic can discover things."

Jolene perked up and rushed over to join Bill. "He's right Fizz, and I can hear... Chanting."

Fizz forced himself to look pleased, he was really, but if only Bill hadn't found it. Slouching, he plodded towards the grinning builder, suddenly his depression deepened. As he watched Jolene placed a kiss on on Bill's ruddy cheek. Fizz winced at the pain caused by his nails digging furrows into his soft hands. He swallowed his pride and followed the excited pair into the bowels of the castle.

His breath billowed in front of him condensing in thick clouds, he sighed. In his condition there was a limit to how many steps he wanted to take on in a day. If he was to walk back up this way he would already be well over his limit. Deep in thought, Fizz thumped straight into the back of Jolene.

"Be careful, we're getting close." She whispered urgently.

"Sorry love." He responded sulkily.

"Bill has gone ahead to see what's going on." She stated.

Fizz said nothing, he just drew in his breath sharply. Almost immediately Bill's face appeared, it was distorted with rage.

"They are having an orgy down there, and my poor Cyn is in the middle of it. Three of them are on her, they... They are..." Bill broke down, sobbing deeply.

Despite his feelings Fizz placed a hand on Bill's heaving shoulder, comforting the big man. "We will get her out Bill, her and Rachael."

"Rita, can I ask you a question?" asked Emily.

"Sure anything, we seem to be stuck in this together."