Their hands roamed everywhere, probing particular body parts. Travis undid Chelsea’s jeans and started tugging them down her thighs.
“I can’t,” she said, stopping him.
Travis was disappointed. “But I’m so desperate to be with you in that way.”
“Then you know what to do, Travis.” She looked deeply into his dark eyes. “Turn me. Right now.”
Thirty Three
Marks slept in his office on the couch and he awoke just shy of eight AM. He utilized the communal restrooms to freshen up, then went to the kitchen to make himself a coffee.
“You look like hell, Detective,” said Anita the cleaning lady.
“Thanks for pointing that out.”
Marks made his brew and took it back to his office, avoiding engaging in conversation with anyone and ignoring the stares he attracted because of his disheveled appearance. He seated himself at his desk and rummaged around through the mess of paperwork that cluttered it while he drank his coffee. He wasn’t really looking for anything in particular, but when a printout caught his eye he picked it up, glanced it over and let out a huge sigh. He snatched up the landline phone and dialed a number from the sheet.
When it was answered, he said, “I’d like to speak to Doctor Marlon Becker, please.”
“Doctor Becker’s not in right now,” came the reply from the receptionist. “Can I take a message.”
“Yes. This is Detective David Marks from Queensland CIB. I need to speak with the doctor concerning some information that may or may not be relevant to some cases I’m working on at the moment. Can you please get him to call me ASAP?” He gave the receptionist both his landline number and his mobile number.
“Thanks, Detective. I’ll certainly pass that on.”
Marks put down the phone and sat there pondering last night’s murders. Two bites, different perpetrators for each bite. Possibly even different to the Amanda Simms lesions.
Whatever was going on, there was definitely more than one of them out there.
He hoped Becker had something tangible and useful for him when he called.
* * *
Angela Cartwright called Ryan at midday.
“Doctor Becker’s research is very interesting,” she told him over the phone. “Don’t worry, I won’t ask how you got hold of these files or why you want this information.”
“I wouldn’t tell you anyway,” Ryan replied, smiling into the phone.
“Can you come see me this afternoon? If you can get here soon, I have some free time to go over this with you.”
“I’ll leave right now,” Ryan said. “See you shortly.”
He drove the short distance from Surfers paradise to Southport. Traffic was fairly heavy, making the trip take far longer than it should. Ryan pulled into the car park behind where the pathology lab was located. He entered the building through a rear entrance and knocked directly on Angela’s office door.
“Come in,” she said, her tone always friendly and inviting; something that had attracted him to her in the first place. When he laid eyes on her he was reminded of the second thing that had attracted him.
She was seated cross-legged at her desk, slender legs clad in black stockings that tucked into red high heels. Angela was a brunette and wore her hair quite short, just below the ears. She’d always maintained the same hairstyle for as long as Ryan had known her. And why wouldn’t she? It really suited her. Her eyes were dark and framed with long lashes, accentuated by the application of thick mascara. Her plump lips were painted scarlet red, and a layer of light foundation gave her face the appearance of having been airbrushed. She wore a white top and black skirt that rode most of the way up her thighs when she was seated.
She watched him enter, her eyes looking over the top of her reading glasses. Something about those glasses added to her sex appeal as well. Ryan still felt an immense physical attraction for this woman, but he was planning never to go there again. She was a good and useful friend. He wanted to keep it that way.
She stood up to greet him. He took her hand in his and they kissed each other on the cheek.
“Take a seat,” she offered with a smile.
Ryan sat on the opposite side of the desk, her large computer screen to his right a bit and not blocking his view of her.
“It’s good to see you again,” he said, returning her smile.
“It certainly is.” She fixed her gaze on him for a moment longer, then turned her attention to the computer screen. “I know you don’t understand scientific terminology much, Ryan, so I’ll try and make this as plain and simple as possible, so hopefully you understand.”
“Ouch,” he said and smiled again.
“I wasn’t putting you down,” she said with a sideways glance, her dark eyes sexy above those glasses. “I figure you, or your client, was looking for something a little out of the ordinary in Becker’s research. Am I correct?”
Ryan shrugged. “I’m not really sure what she’s after. I’m not certain she even knows.”
“Okay.” Angela nodded. She adjusted her glasses. “Well, a lot of this material seems like fairly everyday sort of research, and much of it’s not directly related to Doctor Becker himself. So I’ll focus on his specific research only; the stuff he’s been working on alone. It’s quite unusual and I find it a little hard to digest.”
She paused and Ryan waited. He eventually held up his hands in supplication when she refused to speak. “Well? What have we got there?” he prompted and tugged at his ear.
Angela shook her head while staring at the monitor. “It’s really weird stuff, actually.”
“Angela. Stop procrastinating and just tell me what the good doctor’s been up to. I need to know. Don’t ask me why. It’s just a gut feeling I have.”
She finally looked his way and spoke. “The main focus of his solitary research seems to be based on a serum or antidote he’s been developing. And he’s been working on it for quite some time, too, by the looks of it.”
“What’s the serum for?” Ryan wondered.
“Well, that’s the weird part.” Angela hesitated again. “From what I can gather, and it’s pretty plain to me, he’s been developing,” she looked up at the ceiling, “how shall I put it?” She looked at Ryan. “He’s been working on an anti-vampire serum.” She giggled incredulously.
“A fucking what?” Ryan wasn’t sure if she was being serious or not. “Are you having me on?”
She shook her head adamantly. “No. That’s what he’s creating.”
“And has he managed to make some of this vampire potion?”
Angela looked back at the computer screen and performed a few mouse clicks. “It seems that he has, yes. He calls it APHV, which stands for Anti Porphyric Hemophilia Vaccine.”
“Okay,” Ryan began. “So humour me here a little. What exactly is this antidote supposed to do?”
Angela sat back and kept her eyes locked on Ryan’s. “Two things, actually. For one, if a person is injected with the serum, it renders them immune to the bite of a vampire.”
“Meaning what?”
“I assume it means that the recipient can’t be turned into a vampire if bitten and contaminated with the vampire’s virus.”
“Okay. And what’s the second function of the magic potion?”
“According to Becker it can turn a vampire back into a human being again.”
Ryan raised an eyebrow. “So, what do you make of all of this?”
“It’s a fairytale. This Doctor Becker - as brilliant as he seems to be and highly respected in his fields of expertise - is living in a fantasy world. We all know there’s no such thing as a vampire, Ryan. Don’t we?”
“Well, I’ve never met one.”
He wondered about that a moment. Is this the information Selena was after? And if it was, what did it mean to her? He thought about her hands covered in gloves all the time. She shakes hands. Vampires are supposedly cold. Can’t feel that her hands are cold because of the gloves.
&nbs
p; No. That was ridiculous. Selena Thorne wasn’t a vampire. Or maybe she was delusional and just thought she was? Possibly she dwelled in the same world of fantasy and fiction as this Doctor Becker obviously did?
“Anything else of interest?” he asked Angela, breaking from his thoughts.
“I don’t think so. Feel free to call me anytime if you want to ask me further questions.”
“What do I owe you?”
She shook her pretty head. “Nothing. Seeing you again is payment enough.”
Thirty Four
Marks was in his office finishing off his lunch when the landline phone rang loudly to the left of him. He washed a mouthful of chicken curry down with some coffee and answered the call.
“Detective Marks here.”
“Good afternoon, Detective,” came a booming voice with a foreign accent. “This is Doctor Marlon Becker calling from the Research Institute for Blood Disorders here in Melbourne. I believe you wanted me to help you with some enquiries?”
“Yes, that’s right,” Marks said quickly. “Thanks for calling me back, Doctor. It’s most important.”
“What can I help you with?”
Marks explained the current spate of mysterious murders that had been happening on the Gold Coast the past week and a half. He then went on to document the lesions on the victims’ throats.
“You had dealings recently regarding this strange virus with a Doctor Jenkins of QHSS in Brisbane. He said his team identified the virus through yourself.”
“That’s right,” Becker affirmed. “It is the Porphyric Hemophilia disease.”
“Which is apparently,” Marks hesitated and took a deep breath, “a vampire disease.”
Now there was hesitation on the other end of the line.
“Doctor Becker? That is what you told Doctor Jenkins’ team, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it is,” Becker finally spoke again. “Don’t think me crazy, Detective, but vampires are a real species.”
Marks forcibly stifled a frustrated sigh. “And you know this how, Doctor? Have you encountered one?”
Again hesitation. Then, “Yes.”
“When and where?”
“It was many years ago when I still lived in Europe. Vampires killed my friends.”
Marks was struggling to believe it, but tried his best to give Becker the benefit of the doubt. After all, there had been some strange and unexplainable findings in these cases so far. And he was getting nowhere fast with his investigation. He decided he’d better keep an open mind.
“Okay. Tell me the story, Doctor Becker,” Marks suggested. He put the phone on loudspeaker and activated his recording device, then sat back in his chair to listen.
It happened in Germany’s Black Forest more than a decade ago. Marlon Becker and some associates had been enjoying some time out after a conference in Stuttgart. They were camping beside a river just on the outskirts of the forest. A fire was burning nicely in the centre of their small tent city. One of the associates had even brought along an acoustic guitar so they could have a sing-along. Aided by the consumption of Schnapps and bottles of Becks beer, the atmosphere was relaxed and merry. They were even toasting marshmallows like school kids on a summer camp. Everything was going so well until midnight.
The group soon became aware that something was lurking in the woods, stalking them. It was evident after a few minutes that there was more than one unknown creature out there just beyond the firelight of the campsite. There were two, perhaps even three.
Becker thought they might be wolves, but that assumption was soon dispelled when they all heard a series of sharp hissing sounds. Wolves weren’t known to make a noise like that, and there was never any howling or growling. Also, every so often they heard rustling sounds in the trees above them. Wolves weren’t known to climb high into the trees, either.
The five in the group huddled close to the fire, their nerves on edge, not knowing what was out there or what to expect. Becker took a piece of flaming wood from the fire and bravely moved over to the edge of the forest, trying in vain to discover what was stalking them. It was as he stepped into the woods that the first attack came.
He heard the initial commotion rather than saw it. The creature had attacked the camp from the opposite side to where Becker was exploring with his makeshift torch. He rushed back to find one of his colleagues lying on the ground. The man’s shoulder was obviously dislocated and he writhed around on the ground in severe pain. The only female in the group had gone to his aid and was trying her best to comfort the man and ease his agony.
When Becker queried what had happened, another man in the group had told him that a demon-possessed man with flaming red eyes had rushed into the campsite and knocked their friend to the ground. The possessed man had then disappeared up into the trees.
Nothing happened for another ten minutes or so, then the stalking started up again. Becker was sure now that there were three of them out there. The second attack happened soon after.
Becker was proven right when three men walked into the small clearing, all homing in from different directions. One had eyes that burned like fire, the second man’s eyes were black as midnight on a moonless night, while the third had the bluest eyes the doctor had ever seen on a man.
The men weren’t human. Simultaneously all three opened their mouths to expose long and lethal fangs protruding from their upper jaws.
The injured man on the ground was set upon first. At the same instant the red eyed one grabbed hold of the woman attending the wounded man and sank its fangs into her neck, where it proceeded to suck and slurp with the most hideous of sounds. Becker flailed madly at the creatures with his burning piece of wood. It had little affect on them, though.
A cold realization struck him as he fought to ward them off. A legend had come to life. The three were not demon-possessed men. They were vampires.
When the vampire attacking the woman was done with her, the thing seized her by the head and twisted it so ferociously that it ripped clean off her neck. It spun away in the dirt like a top. There was no blood. The vampire had already sucked her veins dry.
The man on the ground with the dislocated shoulder was now dead, as were his two other colleagues. That just left Becker all alone with the three creatures.
They formed a circle around him and ever-so-slowly closed in on him. Becker still had the piece of wood in his hands, but by now the flames had been extinguished. Still, he brandished it as menacingly as he could, hoping for a miracle and salvation from his impending fate.
Salvation did come, but not in a way he ever expected.
The vampire with the black eyes rushed him, hitting him in the chest and knocking him to the dirt. Becker felt all the air expel from his lungs and he lay there, with the thing on top of him, laboring for breath. His head spun, both from a lack of oxygen and from his head striking the ground when he fell. The vampire opened its mouth, its fangs covered in the fresh gore of his colleagues. A putrid stench wafted from its throat as it stared down at him with those dark and lifeless eyes. Becker tried to wrestle free of its powerful grasp, but he was pinned helplessly to the ground. All he could do was wait to meet his fate and take it as bravely as he could.
When he closed his eyes and prayed that his soul would go to heaven and not hell, he felt the vampire’s hot breath on the exposed skin of his throat a moment before the fangs pierced the flesh. The pain was like receiving two hypodermic needles at once. The thing hissed and sucked and he felt the blood starting to leave his body. But after only a few seconds of feeding the vampire let go of his throat, moved his head away, glanced at his companions, then stared down at the doctor with a bemused expression.
“Something’s not right with his blood,” the creature said to the others in a perfectly human voice. “I can’t drink it.”
“They fled into the forest then and never came back,” Becker said into the phone. “I still have the scars on my throat from the two puncture wounds.”
Marks was sittin
g at his desk in stunned silence, rubbing absently at his chin. He shook his head slowly, still not sure whether to pay any heed to the doctor’s tale.
“So, did you ever figure out why the vampire couldn’t drink your blood?” Marks eventually asked.
“My very first thought was I must have had a serious disease of some kind that I didn’t yet know about. No symptoms of any kind had manifested and I felt fine. Still, the very next day, after the police were done interviewing me, I had blood tests run on every disease known to mankind and put a rush on the results.
“I knew the legend stated that anyone bitten by a vampire who lives will soon turn into a vampire themselves, so I was expecting that to happen within a matter of days. It never did and there was absolutely nothing abnormal found in my blood. That got me thinking that maybe there was something to the biological makeup to my blood, rather than a disease, that rendered me impervious to the vampire bite. They wouldn’t drink my blood and I couldn’t be turned into one of their kind.”
“This is a very intriguing tale, Doctor,” Marks commented.
“It’s not a tale, Detective,” Becker said with a serrated edge to his voice. “Every word of it is the truth.”
“Sorry, Doctor. Please continue.”
“That was such a frightening experience that night that left four of my friends dead. I knew there was something special about my blood, so I was determined to find out what it was and replicate those properties into a serum that could be injected into others to render them safe from the vampire bite.
“Only problem was the vampires wouldn’t leave me alone long enough for me to fully focus on my research. They were as curious as I was as to why I was immune to them. They kept stalking me, making me nervous. I couldn’t concentrate. I was always scared and looking over my shoulder, afraid to venture outside after dark. They didn’t seem to want to kill me, or they would have already. They had plenty of opportunities. In the end I sold up everything and left the country, settling here in Australia, as far away from my enemies as I could get. Here I’ve continued my work and have made great progress.”
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