by Simon Clark
June had brought a hefty file stuffed with documents and photographs. Those electric blue eyes of hers earnestly studied pictures of her father. These were taken in happier times – in some of them he stood alongside a dark-skinned woman who was pregnant with June.
June scrutinized a photograph. ‘I’m trying to find a resemblance to the man who attacked you and who climbed down the chimney.’
‘Do you see any resemblance?’
‘Just when I think I do …’ she sighed. ‘That’s when I tell myself I can because I want to believe it was my father.’
‘The first time it was dark when we were on the river bank, the second time he was surrounded by fire. It’d be a tough call to identify anyone in circumstances like those.’
June went to the bar and came back with another beer for him and a large white wine for her. ‘What’s been really worrying me, Tom, is what if you’re attacked again? You’re alone out there in the forest.’
‘Your being there was the trigger.’
‘They … those vampires … let’s not be shy about using the word. Those vampires have never done anything like this before?’
‘Not to me. They’re elusive. I don’t think anyone’s seen them apart from me in recent years. They tend to haunt the wood, for the want of a better word. They don’t move, don’t say anything, and I keep well away from them.’
‘You see other members of the Bekk family, but never Nicola?’
‘I’ve glimpsed her once or twice, or believed I have, which might not be the same thing.’
‘So you really believe I triggered the attack?’
He sipped the beer. ‘I’m certain you’re the trigger. Your father believed I was attacking you in the forest, some residual instinct to protect his daughter kicked in, and wham! I ended up face down in the water.’
‘Even if he was my father, he couldn’t know what I look like.’
‘He’d have sensed you. Maybe he knew you share the same blood as him, or at least a percentage of it. They might not be the usual kind of vampires you see in films but, believe me, those guys have powers we can only dream about.’
‘So, will you stay away from the house? At least for the time being?’
‘If you’re not there, those vampires will return to normal – or what’s normal for them. Inert. Harmless.’
She looked him in the eye. ‘But what if you’re wrong?’
They talked through into the evening. June Valko had shown Tom newspaper clippings that featured her father. Thousands of people go missing each year, so the major newspapers hadn’t even covered the case. However, the local press had reported what appeared to be a standard missing person story. After all, no evidence of murder or kidnap could be uncovered. If anything, it appeared to be a situation where a young man had decided he didn’t want to be tied down with a wife and child, and simply scooted off elsewhere. Charities that attempt to find people who’ve vanished couldn’t help, either. Tom studied the photographs of Jacob – a good-looking young man who appeared completely happy with his new wife. What was more, he resembled Tom’s Nicola so closely. They had the same fair hair that looked almost white in bright sunlight.
Of course, they both knew what had happened to Jacob. The old pagan magic that had both protected and cursed the Bekk clan had struck again. Jacob had rejected the old way of life. Tom could imagine Jacob scoffing at the idea that Viking gods not only existed, but they had power over him. So, almost thirty years ago, he’d left Skanderberg cottage in the forest and headed west to Manchester, looking forward to an exciting life in the city. He’d met June’s mother, fallen in love and married her.
But then the curse had struck. Before Jacob could hurt his wife, who was expecting his child, he’d fled back to his old family home in the forest. There the transformation to vampire had run its course. Now the man, who would no longer age, wandered the forest at night – something he would do until the end of time. A kind of lost soul in physical form.
Tom and June drank more beer and wine. By ten o’clock Tom felt decidedly mellow. June smiled woozily.
‘Ready for bed?’ he asked.
Nodding, she replied in a small voice, ‘OK.’
Tom had already checked in and had the key to his room. They climbed the stairs together, pausing only to look out of a window as the hail rattled down. The roads of Leppington were white all over.
When he stopped to say good night, she stood on tiptoe and kissed him. ‘Do you prefer your room or mine?’ she asked.
‘My room … I mean, I’m going to my room. You’re going to yours.’
‘I thought we were going to …’ her blue eyes searched his face. ‘You know?’
‘That’s flattering, I’m flattered.’ He realized both were more than a little tipsy. ‘But while there’s a small, tiny … infinitesimal chance I’ll find Nicola … then no. Thanks, but no way.’
‘Oh?’
‘Sorry. I’ve embarrassed you.’
She shook her head, confused. ‘Earlier, you said you’d ask a favour of me tonight?’
‘And you thought I meant? Oh.’
‘Yes.’
‘You thought I’d ask you to sleep with me as a favour? Sex?’
‘Yes. I decided to agree … I thought you needed to – I don’t know how to say it – to release emotion. A way to relax.’
‘Safety valve sex.’
‘I guess that’s one way of describing it.’ She smiled. ‘I must say I’m relieved about our misunderstanding. It would have been strange ending up naked together, and touching each other’s bodies, and … well, you know.’
‘Thanks for being prepared to …’ he swayed a little ‘… to be so generous.’
‘No problem. Well … I’ll say good night.’
‘Good night, June, and thanks again for … well …’
‘Good night, Tom.’
Tom headed towards his room. June opened her door. Then he heard her call in a soft voice.
‘Tom?’
He turned round. ‘Yes?’
‘You said you were going to ask a favour? What was it?’
He came straight out with what had been on his mind. ‘Bait.’
‘Pardon?’
‘I want you to become bait. I want you to come back home with me tomorrow, and draw the vampires out.’
Her eyes widened in shock. Then she thought about what he’d said and slowly nodded. ‘OK. I’ll do that. I’ll be the bait.’ With that, she went into her room and quietly closed the door behind her.
THIRTY-ONE
I’m playing a dangerous game, Tom thought as he sat on the bed in his hotel room. I’m playing with fire. Just a moment ago he’d said to June Valko: I want you to become bait. I want you to come back home with me tomorrow, and draw the vampires out.
June longed to have contact with her father – even if the man was no longer human but a vampire. Tom had formed a plan as he talked to her and drank glass after glass of potent Yorkshire ale down in the bar. Perhaps the intoxicating power of the beer had taken away his scruples, along with realizing that what he planned would be extremely dangerous for both of them. Because he really did intend to use June Valko as bait. Her presence last night in the forest had provoked at least one vampire into radically changing its behaviour.
Tom had suspected for years that Nicola could see him, even if he couldn’t see her. So this is the dangerous part, he told himself. If I assume Nicola can see me, and there is part of her original personality still intact, then what will happen when she sees me with a woman? What if she watches me walk into the cottage with June Valko? There was a distinct chance Nicola would go berserk with jealousy, just as June’s father had flown into a violent rage when he thought that Tom was attacking his daughter.
Tom Westonby understood his plan would be especially dangerous. Also, there would be so many unpredictable elements. The psychology of the vampire-like creatures was unknown territory. How much of the human personality remained? Might residual human feel
ings of jealousy, protectiveness and perhaps even love be amplified to an explosive degree? Even so, he still intended to provoke Nicola, his vampire bride of five years ago, to show herself. And damn the consequence.
He went to the window and looked out over the rooftops. Hailstones had cast a deathly white shroud over the town. The winter had come early this year. Soon blizzards would cut off the little communities scattered across the North Yorkshire moors and valleys. Already the physical appearance of the landscape had changed. Tom shivered. It was growing colder by the hour out there, and already it felt as if this isolated region had begun to drift away from the natural world. He sensed he approached a time when the impossible would become possible … and that soon he would encounter a force that was as ancient as it was evil.
Winds ghosted down from the bleak moorland hills. Their mournful drone evoked an impression that a massive door had swung open on to some desolate, lost realm where monstrous things prepared to wage war on the world of the living.
THIRTY-TWO
The minibus roared along the valley road. The time approached midnight.
‘This way’s quicker!’ the driver shouted over the shouts and laughter of his six passengers.
‘As long as you don’t drive us into a ditch.’
‘Don’t be a scaredy-cat, Ruth. I’ve got the hang of driving this now.’
Ruth gripped hold of her seatbelt. The minibus swayed as it accelerated downhill. She could barely see anything through the side window. Out here in the forest, nights were the ultimate in blackness.
‘You’ll end up killing us, if you don’t slow down.’ Ruth didn’t intend paying for a trip to the cinema in Scarborough with her own life. ‘These roads are lethal.’
‘We’ll be fine.’
Ruth tried a different argument. ‘Put a dent in this thing, and the rental place will make you pay for repairs.’
Ruth’s statement put its own dent in Luke’s reckless attitude. He eased down the speed. The Saturday night out in the biggest town on this part of the East Coast had been fun. Ruth had enjoyed the meal followed by the film – but this was the curse of living in a place like Danby-Mask that was miles from anywhere. A trip to the cinema required planning, renting the minibus for her friends and then entrusting the vehicle to Luke’s driving. The guy always drove as if he’d gambled his life savings on making the trip in record time.
Although she knew why he wanted to get home as quickly as possible. Luke would be sleeping with her tonight. It was a stupidly casual relationship, because she wanted commitment. Invariably, they never saw each other or phoned one another during the week – yet invariably they’d still have sex on a Saturday night. So is driving too fast his idea of foreplay to arouse me? She pondered this as his speed began to increase again. Or is he just wanting to rush home so he can get my clothes off? At this rate he’d be kissing her breasts in twenty minutes. And I’ll let him. That’s the annoying part. Either Luke should be a proper boyfriend, or I should be finding someone new.
The others on the bus were teasing Paul about the way he’d bleached his hair a bright, fluffy blond. Luke kept twisting round in the driving seat so he could see them ruffling Paul’s yellow mop.
‘Shave it off!’ shouted a girl.
‘Dye it black,’ laughed another. ‘Make him look like Elvis!’
The passengers scrambled over the seats so they could ruffle Paul’s hair. Paul enjoyed being the centre of attention. He laughed as he fended them off.
Ruth wiped away condensation from the glass. Trees, bushes, fences rushed by. The darkness resembled a thick, black fog. Apart from guessing they were heading down into the valley she hadn’t a clue where they were.
Just then, a sign flashed by and now she knew exactly where they were. ‘Hey! Hey, Luke.’ She reached forward to pound the back of the driver’s seat. ‘Hey. I’ve just seen the sign for the ford.’
‘So?’
‘Cars aren’t supposed to use the ford after all the rain we’ve had. The stream will be too high.’
‘This isn’t a car, Ruth, it’s a bus.’ Luke was damned eager for sex. He wanted to get her home as quickly as possible so he could wrestle her naked body into bed. Sometimes Luke got overexcited. He got rough.
She protested again, ‘The water will be too deep.’
‘It’ll be fine. Besides, it’s a lot quicker this way.’
Ruth pictured the way ahead. The narrow road cut through the forest where it eventually ran through a stream. This was usual for roads out here in the countryside. Bridge building was expensive. So, if the stream wasn’t too deep, highway engineers simply ran the road across the stream to the other side. Usually the water would only be three or four inches deep. However, Ruth knew that ford crossings shouldn’t be used after heavy rain. And last week it had been HEAVY.
‘Luke.’ She tried again. ‘Turn round, use the Whitby road.’
‘That’s the long way round, it’ll take ages.’
‘Luke—’
‘It’ll be fine.’
That it’ll be fine phrase again. She took a deep breath ready to yell at this pig-headed guy. But the breath that would propel those angry words got knocked clean out of her lungs.
Deciding to use the ford crossing turned out to be a bad decision. In fact, a disastrous decision. A total catastrophe.
When the bus hit the stream, white spray exploded into the air. Luke yelled as he fought to regain control. The vehicle’s wheels lifted clear of the road surface. Tons of steel were actually surfing across the water. Then another colossal jolt. Paul had been rolling about on the back seat as they’d ruffled his hair. Now he shot down the aisle. He landed head first in the little stairwell that led to the side door.
The bus came to a dead stop. The engine clattered, wheezed and then died. Silence. Darkness, too, because the headlights failed.
Luke swore at the top of his voice. ‘Shit!’
Somehow, Luke found a switch that turned on the interior lights. At least they worked.
After that, he called down to where Paul lay in the stairwell. ‘Paul? Are you hurt?’
Paul managed to shuffle his way backwards before kneeling up. ‘My hair … my beautiful hair.’ He grinned. ‘Look, it’s dripping.’
‘Oh, shit,’ Luke groaned. ‘The water’s coming in.’
‘Are we going to drown?’ a girl asked, clearly scared.
‘No, but we’re stuck,’ snapped Luke. ‘The water’s killed the bloody engine.’
He glared at Ruth, daring her to make a comment. Ruth shot him a ferocious glance. However, instead of accusing him of idiocy and arrogance (which is the damn well truth) she wiped the condensation from the side window. Yup. Stuck in the middle of the stream. The interior lights shone through the glass, revealing that they were surrounded by water. She checked the stairwell to the side door. There were three steps into the bus. The first had been covered by water. She judged, therefore, the steam would have risen from its usual six inches deep to around two feet deep. Enough water must have splashed up into the engine to drown the electrics.
‘What now?’ asked one of the girls.
Luke gave a bad-tempered sigh. ‘Push it back out again.’
‘I’m not wading in that,’ said the girl. ‘It’ll be freezing.’
‘And I’m not ruining my shoes.’ Paul shook his head. ‘These cost me a fortune.’
‘Take them off, then,’ Luke snarled. ‘Do you want to be stuck here all night?’
Ruth felt the bus shudder as the current tugged it. ‘The water’s rising. It won’t be safe to stay here. The Lepping’s just a hundred yards downstream. If the bus is swept into that we wouldn’t stand a chance.’
‘I’m getting out.’ Paul tugged off his shoes and, holding them in one hand, hurried down the three steps to the door. ‘Open up, Luke, we’re abandoning ship.’
Luke stood up from the driving seat.
‘Isn’t the captain supposed to go down with his vessel?’ Ruth asked tartly.
Luke grunted. ‘There are three girls and four guys. We can carry the girls to dry land; then the guys will help me push this thing out.’ He pressed a button that operated the side door. Nothing happened.
‘We’re trapped.’ Paul’s eyes widened. ‘We can’t get out.’
Luke shook his head. ‘The water’s got into the wiring, that’s all. We’ll use the doors at the back.’ He called to a guy at the other end of the bus. ‘Tony. Open the back doors. There should be a lever, then it’s just a case of pushing them open.’
Tony easily swung the twin doors open. Instantly, cold air came rushing in. Ruth could see the black stream sweeping by. Now she could smell the water – the peaty, earthy aromas from springs that fed the stream. The seven occupants of the bus moved along the aisle between the seats. Paul and Tony stood in the gaping doorway. Both seemed reluctant to commit themselves to climbing down into the ice cold water.
‘I can hardly see the far bank,’ shouted Paul.
‘There all kinds of crap floating by,’ Tony added. ‘Branches and stuff.’
‘Are you sure we can walk through that?’ asked a girl, whose name was Anita. ‘We’re not going to get swept away, are we?’
Luke called out, ‘Paul, Tony, start carrying the girls across.’
‘Shit.’
‘What’s wrong?’
Tony pointed into the gloom. ‘There’s something big floating towards us.’
Paul stared into the darkness. ‘It looks like a whole tree’s been washed away. It’s enormous.’
A cascade of ice poured down Ruth’s spine. ‘That can’t be right,’ she shouted. ‘That’s downstream. A tree won’t float upstream towards us. That means it would be moving against the current.’
‘Well, that’s where it’s coming from.’