The School of the Undead

by Michael Woods

  Amanda struggled to take in the meaning of what the deputy had said, suddenly finding herself exhausted after the man’s unexpectedly forceful interruption. She even found she did not believe it all that important that she had been barred from the school until the O’Hare’s were put away. More important was the chance to talk with the couple, and her anger over being denied this – something she knew as the right thing to do – pressed at her to demand the deputy to change his mind. However, a growing fatigue and her certainty that the deputy would not listen to a further word she said persuaded her that all she could really do was leave. She mumbled something, though even a moment later she could not recall what it was, and left without really saying goodbye.

  It was only when she reached her car, which was waiting for her on a patch of overgrown grass not far from a crumbling sealed up exit to the school’s main building, that the spell of what had happened in the deputy’s office started to wear off. Her frustration began to weigh on her, not only because she had failed to persuade the deputy to accept what she believed Mary’s letter to mean, but also as she came to see the deputy’s actions as telling of something, something that she could not yet understand.

  Chapter 8

  How long had it been since she had visited the entrance of the Tunnels? thought Ms Halford. So many of her students over the years had eventually decided, against her advice, to go down to that place; many without even first trying to remain among the living. Every time another student of hers took this path, she considered it to be partly as a result of a failing on her own part to sufficiently make it clear that even if there may have been no hope out in the world, the meagre existence that could be pieced together out there was a damn sight better than what waited for them under the earth. It was also always apparent to her that most who came to the school would rarely come into contact with anyone with any true experience of the Tunnels; except that is, for her. This meant that her almost unique position - as not only someone who had seen that dreaded place with her own eyes, but also as a teacher with a duty of care - placed an even greater duty on her to persuade those she could to avoid burying themselves away from the rest of the world. All of this meant that as the years passed by, she found it more and more difficult to watch as student after student made their way into the inconsequential looking farmhouse not far from the school that happened to be an entrance to the underground network. Indeed, due to the forlorn shadows of former students that seemed to rise up before her - each a testament to all that she had done wrong in her life since returning to the school - it took all of her will, the sufferance of much pain and the insistence of Adam to enable her to be there. But she was at the site once more, and why else but to see one more student make the journey down below, most likely never to return.

  She felt the presence of Adam’s hand reaching through her own. Usually, she would consider such an action to be quite improper, not least because it was an invasion of her space that she could do nothing to defend herself against. But not on this occasion. Since Brenden had run away, their relationship had changed. Adam too had gone through a transformation. While it was not the case that he had given up on his conviction that it was best for the undead to make a world for themselves away from the living, something had shifted in the way he attempted to convince others that this was the right path. Perhaps through the guilt she had suffered that night, he had come to see the power of his influence and his own culpability. Perhaps it was something else, all she knew was that the fervour Adam had possessed to convince his students to leave for the Tunnels had been diluted with a measure of caution. She knew all this as well because Adam now occasionally sent students to her to discuss the benefits of staying in the world. This change, and the way in which she felt Adam had comforted her, had helped reassure her that she was not the one who had driven the boy to run away; had enabled her to feel that she could stay on at the school and, perhaps, what was more important, made her feel as if she now had a friend.

  “Is he already here?” she asked Adam, who had arrived at the farm long before her. Indeed, she had only been dropped off by Freddie some twenty minutes before.

  “I believe that deputy Chester will be bringing him along in a little while.”

  “The boy’s only been at the school a year. Is there no chance…” Ms Halford stopped herself. Since she had formed a closer bond with her fellow teacher, Ms Halford had hardly discussed the issue that used to keep her at odds with Adam. Though the question of whether their students should return to the outside world or retreat to the Tunnels frequently threatened to force its way into their conversations, both teachers did their best to avoid addressing the topic in each other’s company; they already knew where they stood on the issue.

  “The deputy informed me he could not be swayed,” said Adam. “Indeed, our boy had wanted to go down along with the O’Hares 12 months ago. Brenden took some persuading just to stay on at the school this long.”

  “He’s still just a boy, how can he really choose?”

  The two teachers continued to stand alongside each other in silence as the twilight of the evening gradually started to fade. Just as the final natural light of the day melted away, it was replaced by illumination emanating from a pair of car headlights, which suggested that someone was approaching on the pothole-covered, unsurfaced road that wound its way up to the farm. When the vehicle finally came to a stop a little distance away from the two teachers, Adam and Ms Halford were a little surprised to see that it was not the school’s mini-bus, but something much smaller. The noise of the engine died at the same time as the car’s lights and it was only when the mystery driver turned on the LED of her phone that the two realised who was standing before them.

  “Amanda?” said Adam with evident surprise in his voice.

  The young vampire left her car behind and warmly greeted the two waiting teachers who she had not seen since the sentencing of the O’Hare’s a year before.

  “Has Brenden already left?”

  “No, he should be along with the deputy presently,” replied Ms Halford. “Well, this is a pleasant surprise. Have you come to see the boy off?”

  “Yes, I thought it’d be only right to say goodbye. If it wasn’t for him, I think I’d probably have had to go down the Tunnels myself.”

  “We haven’t seen you around the school recently,” noted the ghost. “How’ve you been keeping?”

  “Well enough, I suppose. Thanks for asking.”

  “I heard you’ve been conducting a few further investigations since you left us,” added Adam.

  “A few. Enough to ensure I can pay my bills, which is a welcome change.”

  “Is it true you managed to solve the attack case in Dorset late last year?” he asked.

  “I did, but the case was pretty straight forward. Anyone could’ve done it,” added Amanda with a bite of her lip that she hoped covered up any expression of the pride she felt, but considered she did not deserve.

  “We were a little surprised that you didn’t return to the school,” said Ms Halford. “Many of the staff expected to see you back again just after the sentencing of the O’Hares. After your success with Brenden’s case, most assumed that you would be engaged by the school again as soon as the next case arose.”

  “I would have nothing against working with the school again,” replied Amanda. She hesitated a moment, looking back down the decrepit track, hidden by the darkness, which led to the world beyond. “It’s more the case that the school didn’t want to work with me.”

  “Oh?” exclaimed Adam.

  “That’s just the way it goes, I guess.”

  “This wouldn’t have anything to do with our fine deputy would it?”

  Amanda shot a glance at Adam, before turning away from the sight of his watery eyes and yellow skin that was only made all the more horrid by the bright white light of her phone.

  “It might,” whispered the young vampire, who became instantly ashamed of having turned away.

  “D
on’t think that you have to hide any misgivings you may have about our Martin,” continued the teacher, without making it clear whether or not he had noticed Amanda’s response. “You may be interested to learn that such sentiments - and sympathy towards those affected by the man’s way of doing things - are held by a few teachers you already know. He is not a man who has reached the position he has without stepping on a few toes.”

  Though she trusted that Adam was true to his word, Amanda wavered over whether to share her own experiences with the deputy. Perhaps her paranoia was unjustified this far from almost anywhere, but the small number of correspondence she had had with the deputy since finishing Brenden’s case had convinced her that the man had ears almost everywhere. His messages always made it clear that he was fully updated on her activities, even on some occasions when she had believed she had been alone. But was it not worth the chance to talk to the teachers, she wondered? She edged a little closer to them both.

  “The reason I’ve not returned to the school all this time is that the deputy has informed me, on more than one occasion, that conditions aren’t right yet. You see, just after the sentencing of the O’Hare’s, I attempted to persuade the man to let me investigate a little further. I had a lead on something, on someone, and I didn’t want to let it go.”

  “A lead?” asked Ms Halford. “On someone else involved in the killings?”

  “Not involved, exactly. It was more that I believed they knew more than they were letting on and I wanted to know why.”

  “And the deputy put a stop to it?”

  “Yes,” said Amanda with an empty laugh, “you might say that. What’s more, I’m certain the reason he kept me away was so I couldn’t ask either him or anyone else at the school anything else about the case. I was tempted to go back to Radcliff and see what I could find myself. But, I still needed to work and I still needed to buy my supplies from the school. Time passed and the whole thing faded from my mind. Then about a week ago, I heard from a client – who had, of course, learned about me because of my involvement in Brenden’s case – that the boy was going down to the tunnels today. As we’re not at the school, I determined that there was no reason for me to stay away, so here I am.”

  “Who was it?” asked Adam directly. “Who was the one you had a lead on?”

  “It was Samuel Packard.”

  The two teachers glanced at each other.

  “What is it? Do you know something about him?”

  “It might not mean anything,” said Ms Halford, “but your Mr Packard is one of the school’s blood suppliers.”

  The sound of an engine became apparent to the three, causing them to end their conversation prematurely. A flood of questions ran through Amanda’s mind, but none of them formed sufficiently to be asked before she saw the expected set of headlights of the school’s minivan appear. As the lights came closer, she wondered why she had never heard about Packard’s ties to the school or, most likely, to the deputy. If what Ms Halford had said was true, then it was no real surprise that the deputy had prevented Amanda going further in her investigation. Finally, as the minibus came to a stop just a few feet away, Amanda finally latched on to one of her questions. But it was not one she needed to ask either of the teachers. The question was for herself: what was she going to do with the information she had just learned?

  ***

  The sliding mini-van door had already been open for a couple of minutes before Brenden finally decided it was time to go. The deputy had told him that he could take as long as he liked to get ready, there was no rush. After sliding down to the ground from the seat adjacent to the side exit, the young vampire took in all he could of the world around him, with the full knowledge that this would quite probably be the last time he would see the outside world. What he saw was a little bit of a disappointment: he could see the vague form of a crescent moon, ever shifting due to passing clouds; a dull grey outline of a nearby wood; a dimly lit house that he knew formed the entrance to his destination; and a group of four people, whose faces were illuminated from below with a white light. When the group came into focus, he recognised the towering figure of Adam first, and the deputy and Ms Halford second. He also was certain that he was familiar with the final person, but it took him a little while to place the young blonde woman as the school investigator who had been involved in his case the year before. He was neither surprised that she was there, nor did it matter to him that he had not seen her in the time since the sentencing of the O’Hares.

  Brenden wondered whether he should go join the group, but the mere consideration of the idea led him to just continue to stand by the minivan until the deputy finally walked over to him.

  “Ah, my boy, are you ready?” announced the deputy.

  “I guess.”

  “It seems you have a little departing party; would you like to say your goodbyes?”

  Brenden responded by waving a little tentatively at the group, who in turn waved back. When it became clear to the deputy that the boy was not going to initiate anything further, he decided himself to move things along.

  “Well then, I suppose we better get going.”

  Without looking back again towards the little party who had come to see him off, Brenden followed the deputy up to the entrance of the unassuming farmhouse, where an ancient figure of a man with an unkempt beard and a fierce gaze was waiting for them.

  As they reached the door, the man - who was dressed in a baggy black suit - drifted a few steps back into the building to provide them with the room to enter. Brenden stepped onto the reddish-brown tiles of the hallway, and failed to notice the emptiness of the blank white walls that surrounded him; he was too focused on his own journey and the idea of his unknown destination to really take anything in. The bearded man gestured with his long elegant fingers for Brenden and the deputy to continue along the corridor, and when the two wordlessly complied, he closed the door gently behind them.

  The faint click of the latch briefly drew Brenden’s attention back to his surroundings, just long enough for him to notice that even though the deputy had surely been through this process many times before, the man was noticeably perturbed. Indeed, aside from the concern that showed on his long face, the deputy continuously occupied himself by adjusting one thing or another in pocket after pocket of his tired brown jacket. He looked down at the boy, finally came to a stop and then made as if he were going to say something. Before a word passed his lips, the deputy was interrupted by the reappearance of the unidentified bearded figure.

  The man led the deputy and Brenden to a windowless room at the back of the house, which was just as bare and white as the corridor they had left behind. After indicating that the two visitors should remain standing just within the threshold of the room, the man moved forward to unlock a set of double doors, which when opened revealed the daunting sight of a staircase that stretched deep down into the ground. The unidentified figure then made his way over to a battered wooden desk that constituted the only piece of furniture in the room, extracted a small key from his pocket and unlocked a hatch on the top of the desk so he could retrieve a clipboard from the space within. The man returned to the deputy and Brenden, and presented them with the clipboard, upon which was a yellowing piece of paper. Upon closer inspection, Brenden could see that he was being shown some sort of form, one he had no desire to read. Instead, he just glanced over the words on the yellowing page until he found a space that was clearly indented for a signature. Without a second thought as to what he was agreeing to, Brenden removed a pen from the top of the clipboard and signed.

  With a nod of the head, the occupant of the house - who was still as yet unidentified to Brenden - gave both the boy and his fellow traveller the signal that they could start their descent. After thirty or more steps had passed beneath his feet, Brenden heard the sound of the double doors being closed behind them. He stopped and turned back to see that the bearded man had not joined them on their journey down into the earth, but had just shut them off from
the world above. At first, the deputy did not notice that the boy was no longer trailing behind him and it was only when he took a brief pause himself that he realised he had left Brenden some way behind.

  “Brenden, my boy, it does not get any easier. We still have some way to go and tasks we must complete.”

  The boy was still looking back up towards the entrance to the house they had left behind as the deputy uttered these words, and it was only when Brenden responded by turning to face him that the old teacher was able to see the puffy red face and tears upon the young man’s face. The deputy’s instinct was to respond by telling Brenden that his crying would solve nothing and that it would be best if he just got a grip. But he knew from experience that these words did little to help most people, so instead, he ascended the stairs he had just climbed down and tried to think of something else to say.