Dead Souls Volume One (Parts 1 to 13)

by Amy Cross

  Part Twelve

  I

  A full moon hung high above Thaxos, almost as if it had pushed the clouds aside so that it could get a better view of the small island.

  On the north side, near the edge of a sheer cliff, there stood a set of ancient stones. Once they had been proud and tall, but now some of them had begun to lean to one side. Abandoned and mostly forgotten, or ignored by those who had some sense of their past meaning, they cast great shadows across the grass, and the wind seemed to whisper as it blew through the gaps they left.

  Beneath the stones, a dark chamber lay in silence. All around the walls, wooden panels depicted scenes from a war that had happened far away, while in the center of the chamber there stood a large stone altar. For many years, the altar had been completely still and silent, but tonight something had changed. On one side, a pair of keyholes offered a hint of something darker within the stone, and from deep inside the altar there was a hint of movement, as if some long-forgotten creature was stirring.

  Finally, an eye looked out through one of the key-holes, and from inside the altar there came a muffled, whimpering howl of pain. The creature was finally awake again, after all these years, but it barely even remembered its own name. All it knew for certain was that soon the time would come... The moment that had been promised so many decades ago.

  II

  “This is it?” Cavaleri asked as she stood in the doorway of the cantina's backroom. “Out of all the men on Thaxos, you're the only ones who're gonna help?”

  “People are scared,” replied Nathaniel Bones, before taking a swig of beer that mostly missed his mouth and dribbled instead down his stubbly chin. He wiped the beer away and then slurped it off the back of his hand. “They don't want to go messing with Edgar Le Compte. They've got more brains.”

  “I don't want to go messing with Edgar Le Compte,” added Tom Ward, the only other person who had come to the meeting. “Not unless I get paid upfront. I'd rather be picking wallets on the mainland.”

  “An army of two,” Cavaleri muttered, reaching into her pocket and pulling out two envelopes stuffed with cash. Heading over to the table, she placed one envelope in front of each man, but there was a look of absolute scorn on her face. “Hard to believe that when it comes to defending this island, you two are the best I can find. Tell me something... If I wasn't paying you, you really wouldn't be here, would you?”

  “Hell, no,” Ward replied, grabbing his envelope and checking the contents. After a moment, he frowned. “There's only half here.”

  “You get the rest after the job's finished,” she told him. “I'm not going to give you a pile of cash, Mr. Ward. I know exactly what'd happen. I'd never seen you again.”

  “True,” he muttered, stuffing the money into his pocket. “It's not that I don't get why you're doing this, Inspector, it's just...” He paused, unable to hide the fear in his eyes. “Baron Le Compte's a powerful man. If we're gonna do this, we have to do it fast and we have to do it right, 'cause I don't think he's the kinda guy who lets people have a second chance. We get in, we do it, and we get out.”

  “That's the plan,” Cavaleri told him. “The man rules through fear. If you can ignore the fear, the job's half done.”

  “But there are rumors that he -”

  “Forget the rumors,” she replied, interrupting him. “Whether they're true or not, I've got everything covered. I just need to get into the same room as him and make sure his guard's down.”

  “But those rumors -”

  “Are all accounted for. Whatever the hell he is, I know how to finish him off.”

  “So what are we coming for?” Nathaniel asked. “No offense, but I don't see you having much trouble getting in the same room as Le Compte. There's a million excuses you could make. After all, you're more or less in charge around here.”

  “You're my back-up,” she told him. “You're there to help me deal with any unexpected problems. After all, Le Compte's got a lot of men on his payroll, and I don't want to have any problems. From our dealings over the years, I've come to realize that both of you know how to handle yourselves. I don't want to know what kind of blades you've got in your pockets, gentlemen, or even whether you've got firearms. When this little mission is over, we won't be sitting down to discuss what happened. Keep to the shadows, and try not to let me see you cutting any throats.”

  “I still can't believe this,” Ward said with a faint smile. “You must've arrested me half a dozen times over the years, and now you're paying me to help you kill a man. That's pretty messed-up.”

  “It's a messed-up world,” she told him, “and believe me, I don't like the situation any more than you do. When this is over, if we've all still got our heads, we'll go our separate ways and never talk about this again.”

  “So when do we get to work?” Nathaniel asked, before taking another slug of beer and then slamming the glass down against the table. “Give me another few rounds of the strong stuff and I should be ready.”

  “Slow down with that,” she replied. “You can drink when the job's done.”

  “Then we should get on with it. There's no point hanging around. I just need to get into that magic window between being drunk enough to do this, and not so drunk that I fall flat on my face.”

  “It's five now,” Cavaleri replied, checking her watch. “I've got a couple more things to do this evening and then we're going to head up to his house at midnight.”

  “Midnight?” Nathaniel replied. “Why you gotta go doing all of this at midnight?”

  “He won't be expecting us.”

  “You think a guy like Le Compte doesn't have a burglar alarm? If I was him, I'd have a pack of ravenous dogs patrolling the grounds all night.”

  “I have someone on the inside,” Cavaleri told him. “I've been getting advice on Le Compte's habits, and I know exactly when to strike. Don't worry, we're going to be able to walk straight through the door. Do you think I'd be doing this if I didn't have everything planned out?”

  “Huh. And then I guess you're planning to wander along to his bedroom and put a pillow over his face, huh?”

  “Nothing quite so peaceful,” she replied. “I've acquired an artifact that'll take care of Le Compte. As I said, I've got some inside information, so I know exactly what to do. I just have to find his bedroom. With the item I recovered from the church, I should have no problem putting an end to his scourge, straight through the heart.”

  “Are you sure he sleeps in a bed?” Tom Ward asked. “Maybe he sleeps hanging upside down from the rafters?”

  “Like a bat!” added Nathaniel.

  “We should wear garlic,” Tom continued. “Vampires don't like garlic, do they?”

  “Meet me here at eleven,” Cavaleri replied sternly, with her impatience clear for all to see. “If you can round up a couple more men, that would be useful, but the three of us should be enough. I'll have everything else planned out. I don't like relying on the pair of you, but so long as you can follow orders, I don't foresee there being a problem. Believe me, the thought of working with a couple of criminals is not one I ever wanted to contemplate, but I can't deny that you're probably the best men for this particular job.”

  “And then what?” Nathaniel asked. “When the sun comes up tomorrow morning and Edgar Le Compte's dead, what exactly happens?”

  “Thaxos can move on.”

  “And no-one'll question what happened to him? I mean, he's a pretty well-known guy around these parts. You don't think someone's gonna notice that he's been bludgeoned to death in his sleep?”

  “People will be relieved,” Cavaleri replied. “The unspoken fear that hushes the entire island will be gone. I'm not expecting to be hailed as a hero, hell I'm not even expecting any acknowledgment. All that matters is that Thaxos will be free and...” She paused for a moment, thinking back to the sight of her dead sister standing on the beach. “We'll find out what happens when it happens,” she added finally. “Either way, we're all better off without Le Compte
.”

  “And I'm better off with this money,” Nathaniel replied, picking up his envelope. “You'd better have the rest of it for us as soon as the job's done. I don't fancy hanging around.”

  “You'll get your money,” she told him, as she headed to the door. “I know that's all you care about.”

  “And you care about the good of the island, right?” he continued. “You're gonna be the hero of the hour.”

  “I'm going to save this island from Edgar Le Compte,” she replied, not looking back at him as she left the room. “Even if it kills me.”

  III

  Standing in the courtyard outside Ephram's shop, Edgar Le Compte looked up at one of the windows and listened to the hushed voice that drifted out into the night air.

  “Are you comfortable?” Ephram was asking his grandmother. “I can get you another pillow. Anything you want, just tell me.”

  Edgar heard the sound of footsteps hurrying to another room. With his advanced hearing, he could hear every sound in the building, and those sounds together created an image of every move. Thanks to the sounds bouncing between the walls, he could 'see' every room, every item of furniture, every step that Ephram took as he went through to grab a spare pillow from one of the guestrooms. He could feel the warmth, too, of Ephram's heartbeat as the old man moved through the building. As far as Edgar was concerned, the house might as well have been built with glass walls, since the old stones used in its construction offered no obstruction to his view. He waited, a faint smile forming on his lips as he sensed Ephram returning to Anna's bedroom.

  Humans. Just bags of blood and bone, so easy to detect on a cold night.

  “Maybe you'd like to try eating something again?” Ephram continued. “I can make you some soup. Homemade, just the way you like it. Will you try? For me?”

  Next, Edgar heard the faintest rustling sound. It took a moment before he realized that Anna was turning over in the bed.

  “You have to eat,” Ephram told her, his voice filled with concern. “You're only going to get weaker if you carry on like this. What's wrong with a little soup, eh? And maybe some bread?”

  As much as he was amused by the domesticity of the scene, Edgar felt that he was running out of time. Humans always did everything so slowly, which was particularly frustrating since their life-spans were already so woefully short. Stepping over to the door, he paused for a moment, listening to the silence of the yard, before finally he knocked.

  “Who can that be?” Ephram asked his grandmother. “Wait here, I'll go down and check. Probably someone wanting to buy some bread. There's always someone who turns up after we're closed. People just can't stick to the times, can they? Remember how you used to complain about that in the old days when you used to run the place?”

  Edgar smiled as he heard the old woman let out a faint gasp, as if she already knew the identity of the visitor. He felt certain that even now, at her weakest, she must be able to sense him. Some connections could never be broken.

  “I'll be back in a moment with soup,” Ephram told her. “Just let me get rid of whoever this is.”

  Edgar waited, listening to the sound of Ephram making his way down the stairs, and finally he spotted the man hurrying through the dark shop. He knew that he would not be warmly received, but at the same time he also knew that this was his last chance to visit Anna. He'd waited so long for this night, and even from out in the courtyard, he could hear that her breathing was shallow, and that her body temperature was weak. Sighing, Edgar waited for Ephram to reach the door and recognize him. He knew he wouldn't be welcome, but he also knew that he'd have no trouble getting inside.

  “We're closed!” the old man called out, hurrying to the door before stopping suddenly. His eyes widened as he saw his visitor's face. “What do you want? You're not welcome here!”

  “Yes I am,” Edgar replied. “I don't have time for another argument. Your grandmother wishes to see me one last time before she dies.”

  “Like hell she does! Go on, you're not -”

  “Open the door.”

  “Didn't you hear me? Leave this -”

  “Open the door.”

  Despite the frustration in his eyes, Ephram turned the key and pushed the door open. In the back of his mind, he couldn't quite work out why he was letting Edgar inside, but some other voice seemed to be drowning out his concerns, almost as if he couldn't control his own decisions.

  “What do you want?” he pleaded, stepping aside. “My grandmother is sick. She doesn't need to be disturbed!”

  “I'm going to go up and see her,” Edgar replied as he entered the shop. “She has been waiting for me, and we need a little privacy. You'll stay down here.”

  “No, I'm going to call -”

  “You'll wait down here,” he said again, more firmly this time. “I'll call for you when I'm done. Please don't cause a fuss.”

  “But -” Ephram paused, as if his will was being bent by some external force. “I'll wait,” he said finally, “but not for long. You... She... Soup...” He paused again as the words in his head butted against one another, failing to connect into full sentences.

  “Those shelves look bare,” Edgar replied with a faint smile, glancing across the store. “Perhaps you should use the time to improve the aesthetics of your shop. I do hate to see a business being run into the ground through sheer lack of care. I know this is the only grocery store on the island, Mr. Kazakos, but you could at least put a little pride into things. When your grandmother was in charge, this place was always so clean and well-maintained. For her sake, can't you keep up the family tradition?”

  “I don't need you telling me how to run things,” Ephram muttered, heading over to the shelves and starting to reorder the cans.

  After a moment he stopped, as he realized that his thoughts seemed to be out of control, almost as if he felt compelled to do whatever Edgar instructed. He tried to fight the foreign presence in his mind, and finally he turned to Edgar, only to find that the visitor had already gone through to the backroom. After a moment, he heard Edgar's footsteps heading upstairs, and although the voice at the back of his mind was still telling him to follow, he found himself fixing the shelf instead.

  “Who the hell does he think he is, coming here and telling everyone what to do?” he muttered as he began to tidy the shelves. “The man's arrogance knows no limits!”