by Amy Cross
"I guess we'll have to coast into port," he said, sighing wearily as he turned and walked across the cramped engine room. In truth, he hadn't given up, not quite. He still felt that there was a solution, and that he merely needed to wait for inspiration to kick in. Finding himself over in the far corner, facing the huge mass of oily black mold, he figured that a distraction might help. He grabbed a hammer from the tool rack, paused for a moment, and then finally he struck the mold as hard as possible. A small sliver fell to the ground, and to his surprise Claremont saw that the mass of mold seemed to be hollow.
Taking a deep breath, he slammed the hammer down once again, this time knocking an even larger chunk of mold away. Whereas his earlier attempts had been somewhat half-hearted, this time he was filled with determination. All he needed, he figured, was to take his mind off the engine for a moment. He knew how his mind worked, and he was convinced that a solution to all his problems would pop fully-formed into his mind as soon as he found some other focus. That was how he always came up with his most ingenious ideas, so he set about dismantling the mold until, finally, he'd managed to break through to find a hollow space that had seemingly been carefully concealed from the crew.
"That's mine," said a voice nearby.
Turning, Claremont saw a dark figure standing in the doorway on the other side of the engine room. Although the boat was continuing to rock as it hit the waves, the figure seemed to be having no trouble standing upright. In fact, he was conspicuously not even bothering to hold onto the bulkhead.
"What?" Claremont said after a moment, still trying to work out what was happening.
"Leave it alone," the figure continued. "That's mine. It's nothing to do with you."
"Efferson?" Claremont asked, even though he was certain this figure was not one of the usual crew-members.
"Tell me about my sister," the figure said, stepping closer. "My name is Edgar LeCompte. My sister is Madeleine. Tell me about her. It's been a long time since I last saw her. I need to know if she's changed. Her strengths, her weaknesses... Tell me everything you know about her and about my family."
"I don't know what the hell you're talking about," Claremont replied, squinting as he tried to get a better view of the stranger, "and I don't know who you are. How'd you get on this boat?"
"Tell me about Madeleine," Edgar said, stopping in the center of the room. Now that he was near a set of lights on one of the terminals, his face was a little easier to see. Despite having dark, intense eyes that hinted at great age, he seemed otherwise quite young, as if he was no more than twenty years old. He stared firmly and without pause at Claremont, his eyes almost burning into the old man's soul.
"I don't know any Madeleine!" Claremont said, raising his voice a little as he strengthened his grip on the hammer. He could feel the stranger's mind reaching out to him, like dark tentacles slipping into his head. "Why don't you start by telling me who you are, eh? How'd you got on-board?"
"She must have chosen to go into hiding," Edgar replied, seemingly lost in thought. "It's hard to believe that my sister would do such a thing, but perhaps she found that she missed me after all. She spent so long trying to trap me, and then she discovered that she needed me in her life. She must have withdrawn from the world. She's undoubtedly waiting for my return. I must get home as soon as possible and let her see that I've returned."
Grabbing his radio, Claremont opened a ship-wide channel. "This is Claremont in the engine room," he shouted. "I need someone down here right now! There's a -"
Before he could finish the sentence, however, Edgar grabbed the radio from his hand and threw it back across the room. Instinctively, Claremont swung his hammer at Edgar's arm, but he missed and almost fell over as the boat hit another wave. Clinging to one of the bulkheads, he tried to turn and attack again, but Edgar was too quick for him, grabbing his arm and trying to force the hammer from his hand. Despite Edgar's immense strength, Claremont was determined not to let go, no matter the strength of Edgar's grip.
"Don't make me hurt you!" Claremont said firmly. "You might think I'm an old fool, but I've taken on bigger men than you!"
"Release the weapon," Edgar said firmly.
"Don't make me -"
Slamming Claremont in the bulkhead, Edgar took hold of his arm and finally began to tear the limb away from the old man's shoulder. No matter how hard Claremont struggled, he couldn't get free of Edgar's iron grip, and slowly the flesh at the top of his arm began to rip and tear until he screamed with pain. Staring in horror, Claremont watched as the muscles and sinews of his arm were stretched until they began to tear, and finally he saw the bone itself being eased out of the stump at his shoulder.
As soon as he'd removed the arm, Edgar tossed it to one side and smiled, before leaning closer and drinking the blood that erupted from the wound.
Desperately reaching out for some kind of weapon, half stupefied by the pain, Claremont finally managed to grab hold of a wrench. Bringing it crashing down on the top of Edgar's head, he waited in vain for his attacker to show some sign of injury. Instead, Edgar simply grabbed the wrench and threw it to one side, while grinning at Claremont with a mouth caked in the old man's blood. It was as if he found the old man's struggles to be amusing.
"I don't know how and why my sister's fame has vanished from your world," Edgar said after a moment, "but I can assure you, now that I'm back, that the LeCompte family will be known in every land, and our names will be feared wherever we go. There will be no more dirty, ignorant little old men who claim not to know who we are. I'm tempted to keep you alive so that you can see the error of your ways, but I still need to feed. Three hundred years is a long time to spend trapped underground, so I'm sure you'll understand that I can't turn down a meal."
"What are you?" Claremont asked, his heart racing.
"What do you think I am?" Edgar replied with a grin. "Are you so foolish that you've forgotten all about my kind? Have we obediently hidden in the shadows?"
"You won't get away," Claremont said, still trying to pull free. "Whatever you think you're doing, you'll fail.
Already feeling weak thanks to the blood-loss, Claremont turned and tried to get away, but Edgar merely pulled him closer and sank his teeth into the old man's neck. Feeling the blood being drained from his body, Claremont tried again to get free, but his old body was already starting to fail as the vampire pushed him against the wall, wrapping his hands around his neck and squeezing tight in an attempt to get the blood out faster.
Chapter Seven
"Come on!" Saffron yelled at the top of his voice, desperately hoping that one of the other crew-members might hear him. He knew there was no chance, of course, but he figured he still had to try. The last thing he wanted was to be chained up at the top of the boat until the storm passed. "Get me down!" he continued, but every word that left his mouth was swiftly blown away by the howling wind.
Turning to the chain, he tried once again to pull it loose with brute force. He knew there was no way he'd succeed, but as the boat pitched against another huge wave, he reminded himself that he had to try something. He didn't much fancy the idea of being up at his post for another five hours, but that was how things were looking unless he could find some way to get down. Giving the chain another frustrated tug, he let out a roar of anger. He was annoyed with himself for dropping the key, he was annoyed with the crew for not bothering to check on him, and he was annoyed with the heavens for cooking up such a massive storm.
Sighing, he looked down at the deck and saw, to his surprise, that there was a figure far below, staring back up at him. Saffron's blood immediately began to run cold, not only because he knew that this figure was not a part of the crew, but also because there was something steely and determined about the figure's gaze. Even from this position, almost fifty feet above the deck, Saffron could tell that he had the figure's full attention. As the boat crashed against another wave and tilted first one way and then the other, the figure stood firm, as if untroubled by the turbulenc
e around him. And then, slowly, he stepped over to the base of the mast and began to climb.
Grabbing the chain, Saffron tried to stay calm as he desperately worked to release the padlock that was holding him in place. As his frustration began to boil over, however, he realized that there was simply no way he could ever loosen the bond. Glancing down, he saw that the figure was slowly making progress despite the rocking of the boat. In just a few minutes, he'd be up at the top and Saffron would come face to face with whatever creature had managed to sneak onto the boat.
"Hey!" he shouted, hoping against hope that someone might hear him. "Help! I need help up here! Someone!"
As if to mock him, the wind picked up a little and swept past him, buffeting him with its icy shoulder while howling a hundred, maybe a thousand times louder than he could ever hope to push his voice. Looking down, he saw that the determined, indomitable stranger was already halfway up the mast, even though the entire boat was swaying more frantically than ever before. It was as if the entire storm was building to this moment, and Saffron was starting to wonder whether he might ever be rescued.
Shuffling back from the edge of the platform, he stared straight ahead and waited for the figure to arrive. He shifted a little, positioning his feet in case he needed to kick out. He had no doubt that something was wrong, and he figured he could always try to push the stranger away. Although he was not usually someone who gave in easily to panic, tonight Saffron was filled with dread. Somewhere deep in his soul, he could tell that the stranger meant to cause him harm, and he was consumed by the fear that his crew-mates were by now probably all dead. He imagined the corpses rolling across the floor as the boat continued its tumultuous journey, and he tried to imagine what kind of creature could suddenly appear on-board and caused such damage.
Eventually, a hand appeared at the edge of the platform, and finally the figure hauled himself up. A striking and imposing sight, the stranger stared at Saffron with a determined scowl, although there was also a hint of a smile on his lips, as if he found Saffron's situation amusing.
"You're the last one," the stranger said, his voice just about audible over the howling wind and streaking rain.
"The last what?" Saffron shouted back, poised to kick him away.
"The last living creature on this vessel," the stranger replied, as thunder rumbled overhead and lightning reached down to the sea. "Not counting myself, of course."
"Where are the others?" Saffron shouted. "What did you do to them?"
"I used their bodies to gain strength," the stranger said calmly, as if it was the most natural and normal thing in the world. "Their blood is in me now, and for that I am grateful."
"No," Saffron stammered, "you... There was no-one else on-board when we left Southampton. There were just the four of us!"
"You're forgetting your cargo," the stranger said. "I chose to travel without attracting too much attention, although as you can see I became hungry along the way." Slowly, he eased himself all the way onto the platform as the boat tilted toward starboard. "I just need to get back to my sister," he continued. "It has been far too long since I was last with her, and the world has changed in remarkable ways. I have no idea whether she has changed too, but I have to see for myself. The journey has proven to be very tiring, and I still need to feed following my long wait in the grave. In normal circumstances, I would most likely have allowed the crew of this vessel to live."
"If you come even an inch closer to me," Saffron replied firmly, "I swear, I'll push you straight over the edge. I don't give a damn, I'll do it. Do you understand?"
"Are you threatening me?" the figure asked with a smile.
"I'm warning you," Saffron said. "I'm telling you what's going to happen."
"You don't know what I am, do you?" the figure asked. "You probably don't even know my name. I'd have thought my sister would keep us burning in notoriety, but evidently she has had other priorities." He paused. "I am Edgar LeCompte, of the LeCompte family. There was a time when the merest mention of my name would have sent ripples of fear through the souls of even the strongest men, and a wretch such as yourself would have dropped dead before I got within a thousand paces. Can it be that my sister has allowed the LeCompte name to die away?"
"You can't kill me!" Saffron blurted out suddenly. "If I'm the last man on this boat, you need me! You don't know how to sail this thing!" He paused, waiting for Edgar to reply. "If you kill me, you'll end up alone out here, on a boat you can't sail, in a huge storm! There's no way you could ever hope to survive!"
"You don't know my limits," Edgar replied darkly.
"You still need me," Saffron said again, as much to persuade himself as to warn Edgar. "You need someone to keep this boat going. We're still miles from port, and that means you need me. You can't kill me."
"You're right," Edgar said after a moment. "If I had any intention of taking this boat to the port, I would need of your help. As things stand, however, I'm quite happy to find some other way to reach the shore. All I needed was to get close enough. I'm afraid that I have no desire to go through any port, so this boat can run aground for all I care. I won't even bother to look over my shoulder and watch as you hit the rocks."
"I can help you in other ways," Saffron continued, desperate to find some reason why the stranger should keep him alive. "Are you all alone out here? You need someone. I know this part of the world."
"I was born here," Edgar replied with a faint smile. "A long time ago, though. I suppose things might have changed while I was in my grave."
"Whatever you want," Saffron said firmly, "I can get it. Whatever you desire, wherever you need to go, I can help. You just have to unchain me. Let me guide the boat to port. I won't tell anyone about you. I'll say that pirates attacked us, and then later I can meet you and help you get to wherever you're going. I swear, I won't let you down. You need me!"
"Need you?" Smiling, Edgar stepped forward, towering above Saffron. "You think I, a member of the house of LeCompte, need you? Tell me, to what house do you belong?"
"House?" Saffron asked.
"Your family name," Edgar continued. "What is the name of your house?"
"Smith," Saffron said, swallowing hard. "The... house of Smith."
Opening his mouth, Edgar revealed his two sharp fangs. "Do you have any offspring, human?"
"Dear God, no!" Saffron shouted. "Get away from me!"
"Your lineage will stop here," Edgar said, stepping closer. "As you die, at least be aware that your blood will enrich a far nobler, far more worthy individual."
"No!" Saffron screamed, kicking out at Edgar but succeeding only in nudging his leg. Tugging on his chains, Saffron tried to move over to the other side of the platform, even though he knew he was only delaying the inevitable.
"Do you have any final words?" Edgar asked. "I won't remember them, but it might please you to mark the moment of your passing, even in this cold and godless world."
"Dear Lord," Saffron said quietly. "I swear, if you save me, I'll be your loyal servant for the rest of my life. I'm sorry I doubted you, but I'll spread your word. I'll live by your code. I'll spend my every moment teaching others about your glory and about the value of a life lived according to your teaching. I'll -"
And that's when it happened.
Flashing down from the dark clouds, accompanied by an ear-splitting crash of thunder, a single fork of lightning hit the platform, sending a shower of sparks into the air and throwing Edgar clear of the railing. Shielding his eyes, Saffron watched in shocked awe as Edgar's burning, smoking body fell down to the edge of the boat, smashing into the deck-side railing before slipping overboard and crashing into the stormy waves. His heard racing, Saffron could only stare as Edgar's body was quickly tossed further away by the waves, finally disappearing beneath the dark surface.
Taking a deep breath, Edgar looked at his hands. Despite the direct lightning strike, he seemed to have escaped without so much as a mark. It was as if all the energy from the lightning had been
absorbed by Edgar, leaving Saffron unharmed. Stunned by what appeared to be a miraculous escape, he finally looked down at the chains and saw that yet another miracle had occurred: the metal had been melted and re-fused by the heat of the strike, and part of the railing had been knocked loose. With shocking simplicity, Saffron simply lifted the chain away and saw that he was finally free.
For a moment, he was frozen in place. Finally, turning up to look at the clouds, which seemed so close he could almost reach out and touch them, he realized that he'd been saved by some kind of divine intervention. His soul fell still as he reflected that some higher power had seen fit to pluck him from the jaws of death, and the foul beast had been consigned to the unforgiving depths of the sea. It was as if the Lord had reached down and swatted the vampire away.
Trembling, Saffron began the slow climb down to the deck. As he got further down, he couldn't help but notice that the storm seemed to be abating a little, and the boat was much calmer. It was truly as if God was parting the clouds and guiding Saffron to shore. His cynical side wanted to dismiss such insane notions, but there was a part of him that felt maybe he was being saved by a great power from above. Reaching the deck, he walked over to the edge and looked out over the calming sea, and he realized that the storm was most certainly dying down. The boat still rocked a little, but it was more like a gentle, lulling motion than an assault by the elements.
"Dear Lord," Saffron said slowly, mesmerized by his escape, "I thank you for your mercy. For delivering me from such evil, I can only pledge to give you my remaining days, to honor you and worship you, and to spread your word throughout the world as your humble servant." If he'd said such words a day ago, he'd have felt like a fool. Right now, however, he believed truly and completely, and he felt a great hushing calm wash over him, as if the chaotic world had suddenly reorganized itself and become much simpler.