Vampires Overhead

by Alan Hyder

  With the girl between us we must have seemed a queer trinity. Bingen, smothered in mud, trousers torn, and shirt-sleeves rolled above hairy arms, rifle slung over his shoulder and a revolver thrust into his trousers, a stubbly beard turning him from a modern driver of a brewer’s van into an old-time buccaneer; and myself, much in the same state. The girl, slim and dainty, between us two ruffians, with curls free in the wind, in a blue jersey and skirt that was soiled and creased.

  ‘Bingen, I’m carrying the bag as well as the ammunition. I think we’ll divide it and I’m going to fire a couple of shots to see if the guns are all right.’

  The cartridges shared equally, I fired a round from Bingen’s pistol and then, taking as a target a heap of bricks some fifty yards down the road where a small building had stood, I shot and watched red dust fly from the striking bullets. The shots reverberated curiously in the silence. Echoes died, and we smiled at each other, satisfied with the results, and then we were jerked into alertness.

  From the tumbled building there boomed a terrible cursing voice, unnaturally deep, with the thundering shakiness that comes from an overloaded radio loudspeaker. It cursed monotonously, without expression, like a cracked gramophone record repeating the same phrases tonelessly.

  Janet whitened, crouched close to me, and Bingen stood protectingly before her. I stared at the place from where the unbelievable voice boomed, and then nudged Bingen.

  ‘For God’s sake go and see what it is,’ he nodded. ‘I’ll look after the girl.’

  I walked slowly forward.

  The small building had been, evidently, some sort of meter house or power station, for a twisted welter of pipes ran diverging into it. Ashes swirled about my feet as I clambered over the fallen brickwork, and that weird, bull voice resounded in the silence, thundering a ceaseless stream of cursing blasphemy. Amid the ruins I searched, and then, from beneath one of the tanks to the left, I saw the legs of a man. Or the legs of what had once been a man!

  A strongly riveted boiler or tank, with a small circular opening in the side, and from this opening protruded the legs. On the other side, as I bent over to see, there was a smaller hole, where some connection had broken away, and through this there protruded the remains of a hand and wrist.

  I understood!

  He had dived for the tank from Vampires, but had been unable to pull the whole of his body into safety. The hand had been thrust into the smaller aperture to close it. His voice in that tank had been amplified into a booming horror. Gingerly, I pulled him out into the ashes floating about. From between his snarling white lips dropped, in a whisper now that he was in the open, an unceasing stream of filth. His body, sheltered in the tank, was untouched, but his legs to the thighs, where they had been uncovered, and one wrist and hand . . .! The Vampires had been at work. His sagging dry skin was punctured with innumerable tiny red pin pricks. He did not know that I had pulled him free, did not know anything. But for the voice, thin and shrill now, he was dead. How long he had been there like that, how long he might have lived like that, I could not guess, but living . . . he was dead. I shot him through the head.

  ‘Let’s get on,’ I said, and had to lick dry lips to speak as I motioned Janet and Bingen forward. ‘We’ll get on.’

  ‘But the shot,’ Bingen asked, but stopped when he saw my face. ‘All right! All right!’

  Janet was silent, watching me anxiously, and I tried to smile at her.

  ‘Wasn’t anything. Nothing to worry about.’

  To us now the open country, rather than the dusty road and its edging ruins, appealed, and we travelled across the fields. Thoughts of fleeing from a concerted attack of things which had done that to the man back in the ruins, into the red embers of some burning building, were appalling. Out here, we would have a sporting chance. From the crest of a hill we stared back, and I saw that the place where the man had been was a sewage farm. An appropriate place! We went on, skirting some large town which I think was Woolwich, and hurried on at our best pace towards Churley, guessing at the direction.

  ‘We won’t get there before nightfall. Keep your eye open for some place that looks good enough to camp down for the night.’

  ‘I feel pretty hungry,’ Bingen grumbled. ‘Could do with some of that stuff we left in the barge.’

  ‘And a pretty daft couple of fools we were to leave it there,’ I said savagely. And then, concerned at the expression on Janet’s face, added quickly, ‘But never mind. Soon we’ll find somewhere that hasn’t been burned too much, and there’s bound to be grub.’

  Leaving Janet and Bingen, I went ahead, following the road, but keeping it at some distance, and waved back to them to detour that she might be spared the sight of a huddled crowd of people lying by a burned tree in the corner of a field. Climbing to the heights of a sort of downland, I could see across the countryside, and look down on razed towns. Away to the horizon was a misty pall of grey, and here and there still flamed isolated villages, sending up to the heavens, as though in mute prayer, streamers of blue smoke. Hardly discernible it was, but I think, away from roads and houses, the grass and trees retained slight traces of their natural colour, so that I grew hopeful we might find the land lush and green when we left the towns far behind.

  I searched the country, while behind me, Janet and Bingen struggled up the long slope. I watched them for a moment. The girl was beginning to tire, and Bingen aided her. And then my attention was distracted from them.

  Shadows on the ground before me were the first indications I had of danger, and I shot a glance upwards.

  High above, a crowd of Vampires dropped out of the sky. For a split second I stared at them, and then turned to scan the open country despairingly. Like a terrified rabbit I ran to and fro on the ridge, and down below Bingen and the girl watched me helplessly. I yelled and pointed upwards, and they began to run, scrambling, slipping on the ash-covered turf. I left them, and ran, frantically, peering here and there for refuge, and foolishly, they ran with me, down at the bottom of the slope, instead of climbing for the crest.

  The downs dropped sheer away into a deep cutting, and, sliding down, I saw at the bottom a shallow indentation. Here was a place! I heaved and struggled with a boulder, and then another, to bar the opening, and while I struggled they were upon me. As I bent, one of the things settled on my back. I threw it off. Another clamped tightly to my leg. I kicked it away, and then, with the shelter ready, forced my way through the Vampires huddling about me up the cliff with fingers tearing at slipping gravel. They climbed, with me, fluttering above in little excited jumps and dropping on to me. Before I reached the top I began to call breathlessly.

  ‘Bingen! Bingen! This way!’

  They were on the hill looking down at me, and, above them, other Vampires were dropping silently.

  ‘For God’s sake come down! Slide down anyhow. Bingen, throw the girl down.’

  But they would not, and stood staring stupidly while I endeavoured to climb up to them. Sweating, I searched the precipice for footholds, and when I glanced upwards again, Janet was prone on the hilltop, and, straddling her, Bingen fought off fluttering Vampires with the bayoneted rifle swirling round his head. More of those beastly things were converging from the sky!

  ‘Pull her down here, Bingen. I’ll be with you in a minute. There’s a place down here.’ I heaved myself over the top of the cliff, rolling to rid myself of Vampire Bats clamped on my back. The sword came from my belt, and I was with them, and Bingen, as he saw me, was white as death. Upon the ground Janet lay in a dead swoon, and cuddling close to her were two Vampires. So close that the sword I swung was useless, and it was then I discovered the best way to deal with them. As the girl’s father had done on the boat, I caught them by their wings, hurled them away. They fell dazedly, to lay struggling to regain their equilibrium.

  ‘Bingen, get down into the cutting. I’ve got a place there we can defend. Bingen, I’ll manage the girl. Get down!’

  He did not answer. When I glanced at hi
m, his face was hopeless, jaw dropped open, eyes bulged terrified.

  Bending over the girl, I felt two Vampires drop on my back, and had to reach to fling them away before lifting Janet’s limp form to slide and tumble down the cliff. Into the cutting I flung her, and with the stabbing sword protected the entrance as the things attempted to crawl in after us. I shouted cursingly to Bingen.

  ‘Bingen. Come down. We’re all right in here. Come.’

  I pulled Janet behind the boulder and went after Bingen. With knowledge that the things could be thrown off fairly easily, I went with better courage. Again I called, but he did not answer, and I clambered up the ascent with the things hindering me. Through my shirt I felt the muzzle of one clamped to the skin on my shoulder!

  On the hill, Bingen was half-standing, half-crouching, motionless, with arms held about his head. Upon him were Vampires, and he did not move. I tore them from him, pushed and tumbled him to the edge, thrust him over to reach the bottom almost simultaneously, dragged him in beside Janet, and shuddered to see three of the great bats humped beside her, whilst at the entrance others waited for Bingen and I, watching our approach. Bingen was helpless, and he dropped where I dragged him, behind the boulder. Two Vampires I flung into the open, and the third crawled into the place they vacated, ignoring me. I flung that away over the heads of those behind the boulder, kicking and stabbing as they shuffled closer.

  Even in the confined space here, I found the best way to deal with them was to clutch at a wing and fling them one by one as far away as possible. A horrible effect was, that even while one did this, the thing’s muzzle would twist round, and one could feel its snout sucking at one’s wrist!

  They crowded me farther between the boulders, so that I had to retreat until I could not hurl them away. I had to snatch up the sword, stab, and thrust at them.

  ‘Bingen! How long are you going to be before you come and help me?’ I called, sweating. ‘There’s not many. Together, we could get rid of them.’

  With Bingen to prevent them nearing Janet, I would go into the open, for against these few I felt I could make headway, throwing them to the ground, slicing at them with the sword while they struggled to regain their balance. Beheading them!

  Turning quickly, I saw that he lay flat, unmoving, while over him Janet bent, rubbing his hands, calling softly to him. Then a Vampire curling about my feet kept me busy. When I had stabbed and kicked it away I called to her.

  ‘I can keep them out. We’re all right in here. But I must have a spell soon. You’re a great kid. Keep at him, and he’ll soon come to.’

  Even as I spoke I heard Bingen groan, and, turning, saw him lurch to his feet. He stood steadying himself with a hand against the gravel, regaining courage.

  ‘All right now, Bingen? Come on, old son, and give me a hand. The kid’ll be all right. Come and give me a hand.’

  My arm, as I turned, knocked against the gun tucked in my trousers. Until then I had forgotten it! I lugged it out and drove a shot at one of the big bats sitting close, and through its head the heavy slug tore, but it never moved or altered its expression. Four shots I had to pump into it before it toppled over, and then it bent slowly, sagged, and lay like a bundle of old rags, limply. Maybe I had hit a vulnerable spot. The gun was useless against them. One would want lorry loads of ammunition to obliterate them. Perhaps it was as well that, until now, I had forgotten the gun. Otherwise I might have wasted all the cartridges.

  ‘They had you on the run just now, Garry,’ Bingen pushed into line with me, and had the audacity to point at the encircling Vampires, speak jeeringly. ‘Made you run. I didn’t think that you’d go back on a pal. Here, let me give you a hand.’

  For a minute I was too surprised to answer. Then I understood. Bingen was impressing Janet. I answered him softly, scowlingly:

  ‘If I’d gone back on you, my little dear, you’d never have got out of that girlish attack of the vapours you had just now. Stand here, and keep them out, away from the girl, and I’ll go and see if I can do anything with them.’

  ‘No! Don’t risk it, Garry. Let ’em be.’ Bingen caught my arm. ‘We’re all right here. Stop in here.’

  ‘Don’t be windy. The things can’t hurt, unless there is so many of them that you get swamped. I’ve found out how to deal with them. You take a lesson from me.’

  Anything was better than squatting hopelessly in the gravel cutting, and I went out to discover whether or no I could actually better these bats with this opportunity while they were few.

  Narrowing their encroaching circle, they came to meet me, as though accepting the challenge, and with a spring I was among them, to grab one by a wing, hurl it away. As it fell I was upon it, the sword slashing downwards. One after another I treated like that, excited that I could master them, and Bingen shouted encouragement. One of them fastened on to my boot after decapitation, and I had to kick it away with my other foot, for I was too sick to handle it. Thirty or so I killed before the last one lay trembling, endeavouring to regain its balance as I walked towards it, for I was too tired to jump. it watched me approach before I sliced at it. Curiously, I felt vague sympathy, or if not sympathy, some queer kind of emotion, as the sword cut into it. The things were so impersonal, it seemed that they had no dislike against us, no feeling at all. It is difficult to explain, but there it is.

  The sky was clear when I went back into the hole and sat upon a boulder. Janet sat there, white-faced but plucky, and Bingen came and squatted beside us.

  ‘We ought to get on,’ I said presently. ‘We want a place where there is food as well as safety. Even though we’re all right here for the time we oughtn’t to stop. We’ll go on, if you’re ready, Janet.’

  ‘Are you fit to go on yet?’ she cried, and to my surprise laid her hand on Bingen’s arm, for I thought that she spoke to me. ‘D’you feel that you can go on now?’

  ‘Of course he’s ready to go on. Why shouldn’t he be?’ I grumbled. Insanely, I felt a twinge of what was almost jealousy, that she should be so concerned about Bingen when it was I who had saved them. She didn’t seem to care whether or not I was fit to go on. ‘He’s all right, so we’ll get along if you’re ready, Janet. The afternoon’s drawing in and we must get somewhere before dark. I believe the things can see in the dark. We can’t.’

  ‘See in the dark,’ Janet cried, and hid shocked face in her hands. ‘Oh! Don’t! Don’t!’

  ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you,’ I said, and went to comfort her, but Bingen was before me. ‘I spoke without thinking.’

  ‘Didn’t think, you big stiff,’ Bingen scolded and grinned at me behind her back as he clasped an arm about her. ‘What the hell d’you mean by trying to frighten her like that.’

  Astonishingly, Janet flung off Bingen’s arm and turned to follow me from the cave.

  ‘I know you didn’t mean to frighten me,’ she said softly. ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘That’s all right. I’m sorry too. I didn’t mean to frighten you either, so we’re quits.”

  We went from the gravel workings to where a broad road wound about the bottom of the downs, to follow it for some distance until it neared blackened and fallen houses. Then we left it again for the grey fields.

  ‘Queer how one gets so rapidly accustomed to startling changes, isn’t it?’ I mused. ‘The other day we should have stared to see ash over everything like this, and now we just take it as a matter of course. Got used to seeing bare burned earth, leafless trees, ruined houses, and no one but ourselves.’

  Thirst began to trouble us, for the day was tropically hot, and the streams we passed that weren’t dry, were bitter, arid to the taste. Under my breath, I cursed myself for having been foolish enough to have carried Janet’s bag instead of bringing food along, for I was hungry. Yet, who would have thought that we would walk through the outskirts of London for many hours without finding food of some description.

  On rising ground, we halted to reconnoitre. Nestling away to the north in our direction
was a great house set amid blackened stumps of trees, and at some distance from it, at the bend of a sweeping drive, was what, I suppose, was the gate-lodge. The building was burned, but its walls stood, and some of the roof was intact. Overhead the sky was darkening.

  ‘I’ll go on and have a look at that place,’ I said to them. ‘Come along after me slowly, and then I’ll shout you if it’s good enough.’

  I hoped fervently it might be all right to spend the night, and went on swiftly towards the lodge, through great iron gates along a flagged stone path and into the building.

  Inside, furniture was tumbled, things were scattered over the floor in the ashes as though there had been a terrific fight. And in the small room at the back I found the bodies of two men and a child. I pulled them into hiding in the garden and, after I had kicked one or two articles out through the door, went to the front to call Janet and Bingen. They stood nervously by the iron gates and came quickly when I called them.

  ‘Well, well, well,’ Bingen said cheerily, entering to sit and swing legs upon a table he righted. ‘This is like home. Do us fine, won’t it, Janet?’

  ‘It won’t do me fine until it’s fortified a bit more.’ I pushed him from the table, and when Janet stepped forward as though to prevent me pushing him, I wished that I had thrust with three times as much force. ‘Well, before you get settled and feel too much at home, we’ll have the doorway blocked and the roof pulled over if we can manage that.’

  Tables from adjoining rooms barricaded the door, and we stood upon chairs and heaved at the fallen roof until it collapsed and fell to cover the room entirely. While we were busy, Janet had made herself useful. A fire was alight in the stove, and she had raided a larder to find tea, biscuits, and two tins of fruit. A tap in an outhouse gave us water, and after Bingen and I had sluiced some of the stains of travelling through the ash-covered country from ourselves and slaked our thirst with great gulps of the cold water, we went in to find quite a plentiful table arrayed before us.