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that was about to unravel before her shocked eyes.
    She called out helplessly once more. "Sharon!"
    Her neighbour never called back, and now her attacker fell on top of the fitness fanatic and buried its head into her neck. Karen couldn't see what was happening in this bizarre, surreal situation, but the high-pitched scream from her female neighbour suggested that her throat was being ripped out by the thing that was on top of her.
    This was confirmed, when it lifted its head and blood ran from its mouth that chewed at something frantically. Its mastication was rushed and it went in for another bite. The screaming had stopped from Sharon as a pool of crimson developed around her neck area, and she lay lifeless on the pavement, apart from the twitch in her left leg. It stood to its feet as if it was bored by its prey and turned towards Karen.
    Its face was pale, and the sunken black eyes and its bloodstained mandible, made it look like a Halloween costume—a very realistic Halloween costume. It took one look at her, and began moving towards her, quicker than she had imagined. Her heart pumped furiously as she frantically searched for her front door key and slotted it in, and took a look to her right again. He was gaining on her and was now on her drive, and although she had only looked for a brief second, his face looked ghastly, as if he was already dead. She let out a fearful shriek, gave the key a twist with her wrist and pushed the front door open, slammed it shut, locked it, and called out her boyfriend's name.
    As soon as she shouted out Gary's name, she immediately released a furious jet-like release of vomit that landed on the hallway carpet with a heavy splat. The unusual feeling in her stomach was there for a few seconds before the release, which almost took her by surprise. She spat out the remaining chunks that stubbornly refused to budge out from the gaps of her teeth. Her right angle position returned back to vertical as she stood up straight, and could hear the moans coming from behind her as the awful face pressed itself against the frosted glass of the front door, smearing it with blood.
    She sat down and picked up her landline phone and called the police. She waited for a full minute but there was no answer; she slammed the phone down to try and recollect her weird thoughts.
    Did that really happen?
    She wondered that if she managed to get through to the police and told them her story, they would probably just laugh on the other end of the line.
    She walked into her living room and peered from the blinds out of her window. The corpse of Sharon Henderson was definitely there and remained on the pavement, which proved that Karen wasn't becoming demented. She went back to her front door to see that Sharon's attacker had gone, as if his attention had been seduced to go somewhere else. She went back into the living room, sat down and placed her juddering hands on her clammy forehead and tried to make sense of the episode that had just occurred.
    It was proving difficult.

Chapter Six
     
    Jack Slade took Kerry's advice to sit down and watch TV.
    He flicked through the channels, but most of them were off. As he came across the FOX channel, he brought the volume up by another three notches and allowed the news to slowly, and grudgingly, sink in.
    He blew out his lips to try and somehow release some of the tension out of his body. There were reports mainly coming from the USA, although there were three correspondents, one based in London, Dublin and the other based in Calais.
    Jack watched as the American male reporter based in London—who was originally there to report on a serial killer who had been caught stalking women for the last ten years—began his report. He could only tell the viewer mainly hearsay, and wasn't really revealing information that would benefit the public. The Dublin-based reporter could only offer the same information; it was clear they had no idea what was happening and the Calais-based