Vampire Trilogy Series (Book 2): Vampire Twilight

by Philip Henry

  Kaaliz soon worked out why he couldn’t move. The half-inch of give he had was thanks to small twitches he had made when he was unconscious. In total darkness he screamed for hours on end. He heard heavy machinery above, very faint. He thought Sin would find him and set him free. She never came. He tried to wriggle to create more space. If he only had a little room to manoeuvre with his hands he might be able to dig, but he couldn’t even get his fingers to reach any of the cement walls. So he screamed. In the madness of his tomb, he screamed and screamed, and was never heard.

  Most teenagers stopped parking at Ballinrees Reservoir. It got the reputation for being haunted. No one had ever heard of a haunted reservoir before but there was no denying that if you were parked out there with your best girl the wind made some mighty funny noises, even when there wasn’t a wind. It almost sounded like screaming. Like crying maybe. Every teenage boy interested in the paranormal who had a girlfriend (which wasn’t many), and heard the noises, formed the theory that persons unknown had drowned in the reservoir, and their bodies were crying out to be found and given a good Christian burial. No one ever reported it to anyone, no matter how dynamic and pro-active they had appeared in front of their girlfriend. A select few started to come out because of the noises. The type of teenagers that favoured black eye make-up, black clothes and the kind of music that only a misunderstood mind can appreciate. They used to come out and hold séances, play with ouija boards and chant a lot of stuff they heard in re-runs of Buffy. Sometimes they heard things they couldn’t explain and were into their cars and away before you could say light as a feather, stiff as a board.

  No one could have guessed what was really going on. No one could imagine that under the reservoir was a secret government base called Project Redbook that had been abandoned a long time ago. Vampires had resided there briefly, and during their stay they had kidnapped a bus-load of Country & Western fans and injected them with the blood of a mythical creature called a Che’al. These fifty or so passengers were now in separate cages. They were vampire/ Che’al hybrids with a bloodlust unmatched by any animal on the planet. They wanted out. They screamed to be set free. Lack of blood would not kill them. They would wait there as long as it took. Someday, someone would find them. Then they would have their fill of blood. Once released, they would never stop.

  Claire had been silent since dawn. Something had happened and she was sure that if she had felt it, Tom would have, too. She didn’t really want him to confirm it. As long as it was just a possibility in her head there was still a chance it wasn’t true. They walked along the coast road and breathed in the salt air blowing off the sea. Soon there would be cars on the road. Soon it would be time for humans to get out of their beds, brush their teeth, get into their cars and go wherever they had to go. They would probably get a lift when the cars started passing. Someone would take pity on a woman and her limping son walking alone. She would take the lift now. She hadn’t taken the lift offered by Rek because she didn’t want anyone connected with her life (living or dead) in the area to know where she was going. She didn’t even know where she was going. She would take a lift and then another, and another until she felt she was far enough away from everyone who knew her and Tom.

  She was even more concerned about Tom after what he had done in the castle.

  “Take what you need from me.”

  He had power and what’s more, he seemed to know he had power and was able to control it. Again the prophecy from the Book of Days to Come was prominent in her mind. She was positive now that Tom was the chosen one the book spoke of. He was the one who would bring the final end to vampires. She looked down at the little boy holding her hand. Tom had a serious look on his face. She wondered if he knew who he was and what was expected of him. She would have to protect him now more than ever. She would change their names. She would take all their money out of one bank and deposit it in a new one under a different name. It might not only be vampires that she had to worry about now. Who knows how many crazies there could be out there that would want to get their hands on Tom to either ensure or prevent the prophecy coming true? She believed in the writings of the Vampyre Corpora even if Xavier… Xavier, the thought she had been trying to avoid came back again.

  “Are you thinking about daddy, mummy?”

  Claire was unsure what to say. “Yes. I was. I wonder where he’ll meet us. It could take him a few…”

  “You don’t have to pretend, mummy. I know daddy’s dead.” Tom hung his head.

  Claire’s eyes began to well and she found she couldn’t swallow. Her heartbeat sped up. He had just confirmed what she had known since the sun came up. The world felt a little emptier than before. Her love for the last one hundred and sixteen years was no longer here. Claire raised her free hand to her neck and gripped the locket he had given her for their anniversary.

  “It’s OK, mummy. I’m going to miss him, too.”

  Claire could hold on no longer and tears gushed down her face. They stopped walking and Claire sat down on the grass by the roadside. Tom sat down beside her and put his arm around her. They sat there for a long time. Tom cried, too. Claire held onto him tighter and knew she still had a part of Xavier to love.

  A car slowed and stopped by them. A middle-aged woman in a loud dress and fussy hat leaned out of the window. “Hello. Are you all right? Do you need a lift somewhere?”

  Claire wiped her eyes and looked at the kindly woman’s concerned face. “Somewhere’s exactly where we need a lift to.” The woman began to lift her belongings off the passenger seat and shove everything to one side on the back seat.

  As Claire and Tom walked around to the passenger’s side of the car, Tom asked, “Where are we going, mummy?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “When are we coming back?”

  “Not for a long time. Maybe never.”

  They both got into the car and thanked the lady for stopping. “Not a bit of trouble, m’dear. I’m glad of the company. Isn’t that a lovely locket you’ve got on. It looks handmade.”

  Claire smiled and held it up to the woman so she could see it better. “Yes, it’s very special.”

  “Hard to find a man these days that puts any thought into what he buys his special lady. He must be quite a guy.”

  “He was.”

  “Oh, is he not with you anymore?” Claire’s sadness showed on her face and the woman jumped in. “You never mind me, dear. I’m nosey, I’ll admit it, and my mouth’s always two steps ahead of my brain. You just sit there and get some rest. I can see by your face that it hurts too much right now to talk about him.”

  Claire nodded and turned to look out the window. She fondled the locket as the car moved off and trundled its way down the coast road.

  The driver looked over and said in a low voice, “Yep, some heck’uva guy. I’ll bet there’s a hell of a story behind that locket.”

  Claire smiled but said nothing. She found the nosey old dear funny and she would make up something to satisfy her curiosity before they reached their destination, but it wouldn’t be the truth. She would never tell anyone the truth.

  Rek had taken Lynda back to Chloe’s. Chloe herself had been taken to a private clinic to have her leg reset by someone who drove a Mercedes and her dinner brought by someone who drove a BMW. Frank and the Daves had listened to the whole story of what had happened. Rek omitted Kaaliz’s fate and said that he and Claire had killed him. Frank cleaned and bandaged their cuts and bruises while the Daves made food. All five of them ate a hearty fried breakfast and were surprised by the Daves culinary expertise. What they all needed more than anything was sleep. Rek fell asleep on the sofa and Lynda put a blanket over him. The Daves retreated to their own house on Chloe’s grounds. Frank led Lynda upstairs and took the first bedroom they came to.

  Lynda held the remnants of her wedding dress in her hands. It was ripped, burned, and stained with mud and blood. She imagined her face was probably on a par with the dress and resisted the urge to look in the
bathroom mirror. She sat on the bed and then lay down. The silk sheets felt cool and comforting beneath her. Frank had his back to her as he took off everything but his boxer shorts. He turned to her and saw she was already asleep. He lay down beside her and finally let himself relax. She had made it. She had been through hell but she had made it. And if what she had told them earlier was correct, it was over, finally over, forever. Her dad, the vampire, was dead so she would no longer have any powers or visions. Frank had the woman he loved and she was safe. He put an arm over her and fell asleep.

  They awoke in the late afternoon. They went downstairs and woke Rek. He said he had to be somewhere and they said their goodbyes. The two Daves came in through the back door and asked if they wanted to eat again. Lynda declined and asked if they thought Chloe would mind if she borrowed a pair of her trainers as her feet were no longer super-tough.

  “No, she wouldn’t mind,” Dave said.

  “You could borrow some clothes, too, if you want,” Dave added. “I think that dress has seen better days.”

  “She wouldn’t mind you borrowing her clothes either. Me and Dave try them on sometimes and she…”

  Dave hit Dave to stop him. “Don’t tell them shit like that, man.”

  “Oh, right,” Dave said. “That never happened, actually.”

  Lynda smiled and said instead of borrowing some of Chloe’s clothes if she could ask them for a favour.

  Father Dean had just thrown a few logs on the fire and it was now blazing nicely. He poured himself a little drop of something to keep out the cold, sat down in his favourite armchair and put his feet up on the stool. He lifted the remote control and the CD in stereo system released soft Motown sounds. He had just raised his glass to his lips when knocking echoed through his hall. Irritated by the interruption, he got up to answer it. When he opened the door he saw a very unlikely quartet: a woman wearing the remains of a wedding dress, a man in a smart suit and cravat, and two hairy, badly dressed men whose odour took him back to his seminary days.

  Everyone just stood there with fixed grins until one of the Daves stepped forward and said, “Any chance of doing us a wedding, Father?”

  After a lot of explaining – and lies for the things that couldn’t be explained – and when Father Dean had called Frank and Lynda’s own parish to make sure everything was above board, a small, intimate wedding ceremony was performed. The two Daves were witnesses and even threw torn-up Rizla cigarette papers as confetti. The bride and groom kissed, finally man and wife. They thanked the Father and gave him something for his trouble, then stepped outside. The Daves said they were going to visit Chloe and left the happy couple standing on the steps of the church.

  “So what do you think we should do now, Mrs Stein?”

  Lynda smiled at her new name. “Well, Mr Stein, unless I’m very much mistaken, there’s still a week and a half left of our honeymoon.”

  “We swing by home, grab the cases…”

  “Let me change into my travelling clothes.”

  “Let you change, so that lovely dress doesn’t get ruined, head for the airport and get the first plane to Greece. This time tomorrow we’ll be lying by the pool.”

  “Sounds good, Mr Stein.”

  Frank ushered her to the car and opened her door. She got in and he slammed the door. He ran to his own side and slipped into the seat. She looked wistful when he looked over. “He did the right thing in the end, Lynda.”

  She nodded at Frank.

  “He saved you and set you free. Maybe that goes a little way to making up for what he did, and maybe that’s why he did it.”

  Lynda smiled and a tear escaped her eye. She leaned over and hugged Frank. “I’m glad I married such a smart guy. Let’s go.” Lynda sat back in her seat as Frank started the car. She looked out at the sea and realised how different her life was going to be. Even the last time, when she had not known what had happened to Xavier but her powers had gone, she didn’t feel totally free. Somewhere in the back of her mind she always feared that it wasn’t over. Now she knew it was. She would never again have to fight a vampire. She was smiling as the car moved off.

  Rek walked back to town from Chloe’s and got a taxi to the Ministry. His bike was still parked outside where he had left it. He gunned the engine and headed home. The evening was beginning to lose light; the end of another short November day and the beginning of another long November night. He raced down the roads he knew so well and slowed when he hit the dirt track that led to his parents’ house. He pulled into the yard and killed the engine. He stepped off his bike and hung his helmet on the handlebars. His niece came running across the yard and hugged him.

  “How are you, Sarah?”

  “I’m OK. I’m a bit sad because my friend Tom’s moved away, I think.”

  “Yes, I think he has, honey. But it’s for the best.”

  “Everyone always says that about everything,” Sarah said.

  Rek laughed at the emphasized cynicism in her voice. “Is your mum in?”

  “Yes. You better go in. She’s been worried about you. She’s going to yell at you,” Sarah said gleefully and then laughed. Sarah’s dog appeared behind her and she ran off to play with it. Rek watched her go and then walked inside.

  In the living room, his sister met him immediately. “Where the hell have you been all day? I’ve been worried sick! God, look at your face, it’s cut to…and your neck. Oh my God, what…?”

  “I got him.”

  His sister paused then managed to babble out, “You got him? He’s dead? For sure?”

  “He’s better than dead, he’s suffering for all eternity,” Rek said coldly.

  His sister’s face looked even more concerned. The old scars creased her face and twisted her once beautiful features. Such a young face to have old scars. She walked towards him, her limp was worse in the winter. “What do you mean? You mean he’s not dead?”

  “He will never be able to hurt you or Sarah or anyone ever again. Trust me.”

  “I don’t know, Derek, it sounds like maybe he could come back and…”

  Rek took his sister by the shoulders and looked in her eyes. “He is never coming back, Anna.”

  A hearse pulled up outside. “There’s dad,” Anna said. “He doesn’t have to know anything about this.”

  Rek nodded. They watched Sarah, through the picture window, run across to meet her grandfather. Anna turned to her brother. She still looked worried.

  “It doesn’t matter if he’s dead,” Rek said quietly. “He’s out of the game for good.” They both looked out at Sarah hanging on around her grandfather’s neck as he swung her back and forth. They listened to her squeals of pleasure. Rek squeezed his sister’s hand and said, “She never has to know that Kaaliz is her father.”

  Afterword

  I’m afraid you’ll have to wait for the last part of the trilogy, Vampire Equinox, which will hopefully be out in 2009 (if not before), for everything to be resolved. To tide you over ‘til then, Freak will be out in 2008.

  A thanks list is long overdue, so here goes: Mandy Croxford, who has been my unofficial (and unpaid) editor since Mind’s Eye and continues to weed out mistakes and inconsistencies in my prose. Cheers, Mand. Darryl Sloan, fellow NI writer and as honest a sounding-board as I have ever met. Brian Audley, for his advice while writing Vampire Dawn. Davy Douglas and Merlyn Brown for giving my first fumblings at writing an audience. Cheryl Blair and Ruth Wilson, my two English teachers while at Ballymoney High School, who listened as well as taught. My family and friends for inspiring and encouraging me -- you know who you are (because most of you are in the books in some shape or form) so I won’t list you all individually. For the publicity: Audrey Martin at The Chronicle, The Coleraine & Ballymoney Times, Alison Fleming at UTV, and Ronan Lundy at BBC Radio Ulster – a big thanks to you all! And to all the websites and publications that have given me good reviews, I really appreciate it.

  And finally, to you, the person reading this book. I have been amazed by
how far word of my books has spread, and for that I have you to thank. Without good word of mouth I wouldn’t get emails from people all over the world who are enjoying reading about the various monsters that inhabit the North Coast. I do love to hear from you, so keep emailing.

  You keep reading, I’ll keep writing.

  P.H. 14/05/07