Chapter 9

It was around 11:30 PM when dim yellow light showed from inside the Pirates Barn Pub and restaurant. Stairs inclined from the street level to its wooden deck overlooking the ocean. Scattered around on the deck were some wooden benches. The triangular support structures type with flat wooden tops. It was quiet outside except for some music coming from a jukebox. Inside another few tables and chairs were arranged for those who chose to have a meal just outside of the smoky bar area. The place needed maintenance and repairs. The wooden floor was battered, and some lights were missing leaving the room quite dark. Through the glass sliding doors, a long L-shaped bar lay stretched out. To the left of the bar, a white wall leading to the toilets almost obscured a small kitchen. A staircase ran up to an upper level where a pool table stood in isolation.

Farris Long was sitting at the edge of the bar next to the back door leading to a small parking lot behind the Pirates Barn. A group of young characters were playing drinking games at the other end of the bar. They were loud, making jokes which ended up in an occasional outburst of laughter.

'Another brandy?' the waiter asked from behind the bar pointing towards Ferris's empty glass on the counter.

'Yes please,' Farris said pulling a cigarette from a soft pack Camel lying next to a flat tin ashtray. He lit his cigarette and let out a ball of smoke. He noticed one of the youngsters walking towards the jukebox. He inserted a few two Rand coins and fiddled with the machine until a few songs have been selected. Soon hip-hop music blasted through the small speakers which Farris was not too fond of. Metallica would have been a better option he thought.

'Here you go,' the waiter said placing the glass with brandy and Coke on the counter in front of him.

'Thank you,' Ferris said. 'Tell me, who are these kids over there? I've never seen them before.' He asked without looking at the bartender.

'I've seen one or two around but don't recognise the rest.'

'They sure have a shit taste for music,' Farris said picking up his glass and taking a sip.

'Yeah,' the bartender laughed before dashing off to the group of youngsters in need of more booze.

Ferris looked around the Pirates Barn. He remembered having good times during his younger days when most of his friends were still around. The place had been in much better condition back then. It had been well maintained with stocked-up refrigerators. The food they used to serve was delicious which attracted quite an audience even from as far as Cape Town and Elands Bay. Ferris remembered Saldanha before it exploded during the last decade. It used to be a small fishers town where everyone knew one another, but when they found iron ore at Sishen and decided that Saldanha was the most ideal port for exports, it changed everything. Big steel industries were erected overnight and pollution became the norm.

Ferris got up from the bar stool and headed to the toilet for a piss. Even this part of the pub neglected lights. As he entered the dark toilet, he noticed a flash of yellow light that could only be caused by a candle, matches or a lighter. At the toilet cubicle around the corner, he noticed one of the younger boys from the crowd inside busy heating a glass object that seemed like a lollypop. It had a round glass ball at the tip with a long glass pipe. Ferris knew what the use was for such a thing, a tool used for drugs called methamphetamine, more commonly known as Tik. It was like any other drug, but the major difference with Tik was that it was made from general household products which made it more destructive than any other drug. Besides that it was highly addictive, it was easily available and dirt cheap. Abusers of this drug were known to be aggressive and would do anything to get their next hit even if it meant stealing from their parents or giving blow jobs to total strangers to get their next fix.

'What do you think you are doing?' Ferris asked, feeling anger boiling up from within. He knew Saldanha was not what it used to be and the quality of the place was still declining despite its natural surroundings, but this has gone way too far. He had read many things about Tik abusers in the newspapers involved in robberies, stealing and even murder.

'What does it look like I'm doing?' the young boy asked smiling, 'smoking a lolly of course.'

Without thinking, Ferris grabbed the young man by the chest and pulled him closer so that their faces were almost touching. 'You can do that shit anywhere else, but not in my town.' Ferris felt his heart accelerating in his chest. He knew he should not get aggressive with the boy. He was accused of being strong and this would be far from a fair fight, but someone had to do something about this new epidemic in town. Ferris noticed the mocking expression on the young man's face and wondered where the respect for the elders went to.

'Your town?' the young man chuckled even though he was being held so tightly he could hardly move. 'This is our town.' The young man stared daringly into Ferris's eyes for a moment before he spat into Ferris's face.

There was no time for rational thinking anymore. Ferris sent an elbow towards the young man's face on instinct. He felt the soft tissue at first followed by the harder cheekbone and jaw. The young man was disorientated as he leaned to the left. The lolly was now a breaking sound on the dark floor. Ferris heard the young man gobble some strange words not familiar to him at all. Something like an ancient language that reminded him of certain satanic movies he had seen some time ago.

'What are you saying?' Ferris asked trying to shake some sense into the young man. The boy looked up at Ferris again. He had a sinister smile on his face with blood running down his lip.

'You have been marked by the venom of the great one who lives in me,' the young man said with a voice almost demonic and possessed. 'Your days will become shorter just like the breath in your lungs. Your strength will weaken with your sight and soon the maggots will feed on your flesh.'

Ferris released the boy from his powerful grip and backed away a little. He witnessed the strangest thing he had ever seen before in his forty-five-year-old body. The boy's face was illuminated with a ghostly glow, yellow-like candlelight. It changed from human to something of the spiritual world and then back to human again. This happened several times in a matter of seconds. Almost like those old 8-mm films one used to get that displayed a series of pictures forming a video. The young man's eyes were hollow pits of darkness.

'Watch this hand,' the young man said grabbing hold of Ferris's left hand and turning it upwards so that his palm was exposed.

Ferris tried to pull away his hand but was not able to. He could not understand where the young man's strength came from. He was not able to move his arm from the young man's vice-like grip. Ferris felt like his hand would explode with the blood trapped in his veins, with nowhere to go but through his bulged skin. His hand closed automatically because of the pressure which was impossible to fight. He soon felt a sudden relief in his hand. The grip around his wrist relaxed and the blood could flow freely again.

'We walk in numbers of six,' the young man said with a deep demonic voice vibrating through Ferris's chest and soul. 'We feed on graveyards and search for souls. Life is our playground and we grow stronger each day.'

Ferris felt a surge of bad energy entering his body almost as someone walked over his sure-to-be future grave. He felt dirty and afraid all at once. The fear almost incapacitated him. His body felt heavy on his legs. This was something he could not fight with his bare hands and strength. He knew if he tried to use his strength, he would come second to the strength he felt in the youngster's grip. Ferris thought it best to leave the toilet and leave the pub. In fact, he felt like leaving town. First, he needed to pray to God to cleanse his soul. Something was wrong in town...very wrong.

As Ferris left the toilet, the rest of the young men stood against the wall leading towards the bar. Although he did not notice it earlier, most of them were dressed in black matching their sombre faces.

'Ferris Long. Born 26 September 1972,' one of the youngsters said.

Ferris was stunned to hear such blatancy so accurately. He knew something of sinister power was at work here as he proceeded to the bar.

'Andrea Long is one of us now,' another said.

Ferris could not believe what he heard. He felt a mixture of anger, hopelessness and sadness. The pain of his wife, Andrea Long who died in an accident three years ago, robbed him of his senses. She was only thirty-six years old.

Ferris grabbed his keys and threw a hundred Rand note on the bar counter. As he hurried to the door, he heard the most disturbing thing for the night. Anxiety pulsed through his heart. It came from one of the young men behind him.

'It all starts with your left hand. Watch your left hand Ferris Long and remember who you fucked with on this day.'