Raven's Gate

out as the door swung open. Kelvin stepped back and Matt saw that he was equally surprised, although he was trying not to show it.
    “We’re in,” he said.
    Matt nodded. For a moment he wondered if Charlie might have been right after all. Perhaps this was going to be as easy as Kelvin had said.
    They went through the door.
    Inside, the warehouse was huge – much bigger than Matt had expected. When Kelvin had talked about the place, he had imagined nothing more than a few racks of DVDs in an otherwise empty space. But it seemed to go on for ever, with hundreds and hundreds of shelves numbered and divided into corridors that formed a complex grid system, all lit by vast industrial lights hanging on chains. And as well as the games and the DVDs, there were boxes of computer equipment, Game Boys, MP3 players and even mobile phones, all wrapped in plastic, ready for the shops.
    Matt looked up. There were no security cameras – just like Kelvin had said.
    “You head that way.” Kelvin pointed. “Go for the small, expensive stuff. I’ll meet you back here.”
    “Why don’t we stick together?”
    “Don’t you worry, Matty. I won’t leave without you!”
    The two of them split up. Matt found himself in a narrow corridor with DVDs on both sides. Tom Cruise, Johnny Depp, Brad Pitt… All the familiar faces in the most recent feature films were there. He reached out and took a handful, not even looking at what he’d chosen. He was sure there were more expensive things in the warehouse but he didn’t care. He just wanted to get out.
    Everything went wrong at once.
    It began with a smell that was suddenly in his nostrils, everywhere, coming from nowhere.
    The smell of burnt toast.
    And a voice.
“Come on, Matthew. We’re going to be late.”
    A flash of colour. A bright yellow wall. Pine cupboards. A teapot shaped like a teddy bear.
    The smell told him something was wrong in the same way that a dog will often bark before danger actually appears. Matt knew that it was odd but he had never really questioned it before. It was a knack … a sort of instinct. A warning. But this time it had come too late. Before he knew what was happening, a heavy hand had clamped down on his shoulder, spinning him round, and a voice exclaimed, “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
    Matt felt his arms go weak and the DVDs cascaded to the floor, clattering around his feet. He found himself looking into the face of a security guard and knew at once that this wasn’t the old codger Kelvin had described. This was a tall, serious man in a black and silver uniform with a radio transmitter attached to some sort of holster on his chest. The man was in his fifties but looked fit, built like a rugby player.
    “The police are already on their way,” he said. “You set off the alarm when you opened that door. So don’t try anything funny.”
    Matt couldn’t move. He was too shocked by the appearance of the guard. His heart was hammering in his chest, making it difficult to breathe. He was suddenly feeling very young again.
    “What’s your name?” the guard demanded.
    Matt said nothing.
    “Are you alone?” This time, his voice was a little kinder. He must have seen that Matt was no threat to him. “How many of you are there?”
    Matt drew a breath. “I…”
    And then, as if a switch had been thrown and the whole world sent into a spin, the real horror began.
    The security guard jerked upright, his eyes widening, his mouth falling open. He released Matt and fell sideways. Matt looked past him and saw Kelvin standing there, a dazed smile on his face. At first he didn’t understand what had happened. Then he saw the hilt of the knife, sticking out of the guard’s back, just above his waist. The security guard didn’t look hurt. He just looked surprised. He collapsed slowly, rested on his knees, then pitched forward on to the floor and lay still.
    A whole eternity seemed to pass by. Matt was frozen. He felt he was being sucked into some sort of black hole. Then Kelvin grabbed hold of him.
    “We’ve got to move,” he said.
    “Kelvin…?” Matt fought for control. “What have you done?” he whispered. “Why did you have to do that?”
    “What else was I meant to do?” Kelvin demanded. “He’d seen you.”
    “I know he’d seen me. But you didn’t have to stab him! Do you know what you’ve done? Do you know what you are?”
    Matt was speechless, horrified, and before he knew what he was doing, he had thrown