‘Any shying away from crosses?’
‘Again, can’t verify that. My mum wears one, but it is usually under her polo neck.’
‘Well, she’s not one then,’ said Adam.
‘I think I knew that. Or my dad.’
‘Have you noticed pointy teeth on the suspects or marks on their neck?’
‘No. But I wasn’t looking that close. I will from now on.’
‘Hmmm, very interesting,’ said Adam whilst rubbing his chin.
Having little else to do that night, Ernie systematically drove past each band member’s house that had not answered his call that day. He parked up. At a lot of them he saw that their car was in, and the lights were on with the curtains closed. He called them but they did not answer. Some looked like they were out, fair enough. Some had the lights off, with the car in and the curtains closed. He rang them too. Still no answer. He wrote all this down and would ponder on it later.
Maurice knocked on the door and half expected that he would get no reply. He was just about to walk off when Sophie answered the door. Maurice was quite surprised, and very pleased that she was obviously still uninfected and human, especially when he knew what she was living with.
‘Can I see your Mum?’ He said. ‘It is very important, or I wouldn’t come, but you see, I had what she has got, and as you can see I am as right as nine-pence now. I have bought her some medicine.’ He shook one of the carrier bags at Sophie.
‘You had better come in,' she said. He followed her into the hall.
‘She is upstairs in her room. I will ask if she can see you.’
‘Yes please. If you don’t mind,' he replied. Sophie disappeared upstairs and he could hear a brief dialogue through the floorboards. He then heard footsteps on the first couple of stairs.
‘You can come up,' Sophie shouted down. He looked up the stairs and she was standing on next to the top step. ‘I am going out, so I have to get ready,’ and off she walked, back into one of the rooms. Maurice got to the top of the stairs. There were three doors. One was open and he could see that it was the bathroom. Sophie was looking through her wardrobe for something in another room. So it must be the shut door. He knocked lightly, and entered.
The lights were off, and from the brightness of the landing light he could just make out the form of someone lying on the bed. He entered and shut the door behind him and as his vampire eyes got used to the darkness, he could see everything very plainly.
‘It is alright Diane,’ he said quietly so Sophie wouldn’t hear, ‘I know what you are. I am the same as you, whatever that may be.’
‘Are you really?’
‘Yes, I am. I have come to see you, to help you. To give you a bit of friendly advice.’
‘What about?’ She asked. ‘What do you mean?’
‘I happened to notice that your next door's dog has disappeared. Now I don't think it's much of a stretch of the imagination to imagine what has happened.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘You know what I mean. Just be truthful with me.’
‘Well yes, okay, I do know what happened to it.’
‘That is enough of that, Diane. I have been coping now for a while and I am here to give you advice.’ He dropped one of his carrier bags on to the bed.
‘What's that?’ She asked.
‘Liver. I feel great on it. I eat it raw. You will be absolutely fine if you live on that and you won't have to resort, in desperation, to eating everyone's pets. Try to keep as much of yourself as you can. If you succumb to these feelings you will never come back and Sophie will be in great danger.’
‘Okay,’ Diane nodded, ‘anything else?’
‘I find it is even nicer with a bit of salt and pepper.’
12 - Lust
Ernie did not expect any surprise returnees at band and, for the most part, the usual crowd was in attendance. But he was delighted with a visit from Michael Thompson who just turned up out of the blue.
‘Hello Michael!’ Ernie said, ‘I am really surprised to see you. I’ve had a right time getting enough players for rehearsals since Bonfire Night. Although a couple are making it in, Liz and Maurice. It gives me hope that I will see everyone else soon.’
‘Oh, I haven't been well at all. I have been having right conversations with the lavatory bowl,’ said Michael, ‘and our Stephen has got it worse than me, so I don't know when he'll be back. Anyway, I happened to see Norman out the other day and he said that he had given you some wine. Have you drank it all?’
‘Why, do you want some? I have a bottle or two left,’ said Ernie. ‘I was going to put it in the raffle. People didn't really drink it because they were driving.’
‘That explains it,’ said Michael pushing his glasses up his nose with one finger. ‘No, no, I am alright, I don't need it.’
‘Fair enough.’
‘So I thought I would come out and try and push myself you know.’
‘You want to watch yourself. Liz tried to do that and obviously did a bit too much last week. She went and fainted.’
‘Ah, she did, did she? She wants to get some meat in her.’
‘Don't let her hear you say that. You know how she can get about vegetables and the like.'
Liz was listening. One thing that happened was that her hearing had got better even though she felt constantly nauseous. As the days went on, more and more she realised what was happening to her and all the others around her. No, she wasn't mad. The facts kept building up. She knew what was happening and she knew what some people were. For the moment she couldn't voice that, because then she would have to admit what she was. Or nearly was. And she was not ready to hear those words or for anyone else to hear or judge her. She just wanted to carry on and be normal.
Barry was back tonight although he still did not look well. He talked quietly, when he did speak and struggled to sit on his high stool. Vincent had returned about five minutes after band had started and looked very pale but, again, he was trying. He just came in, sat down picked his tuba up, and kept himself to himself, quietly getting on with it. He was keeping up with the music so there were slight improvements, but he kept frowning and it was clear he was finding it hard to concentrate.
Ernie looked around the band. Certainly, there were a couple more people here but they were very pale and looked like they could keel over at any point, just like Liz. He really hoped this thing wasn't catching or was not as serious as it seemed. So that he didn’t interrupt band by making a phone call, he decided to go outside and check on arrangements for the concert at the Civic Hall. Picking up his mobile phone, he walked outside. It was very cold. Colder than earlier. The bad weather was definitely on it’s way. He quickly rang Stuart, who was also a colleague of Keith’s. A fellow policeman. Stuart confirmed everything was still on for that day. Tea and coffee would be provided and Ernie checked the fee for the hall, as well as opening and closing times for him and the band. He was going to mention Keith but thought that Keith would go mad if he sensed that Ernie was checking up on him. Sod him, he thought. He shivered and went back into the warm.
The Master watched him do this from the trees and listened intently. People here certainly do have patterns of behavior. They made it so easy for him. This time it was actually going to work. How wonderful. He laughed loudly, no-one could hear him over the band.
Stephen Thompson did not have his brother looking after him tonight, after giving him the slip. He also did not have The Master watching over his shoulder. He knew that some people were infected with The Master's blood as he could smell them too and felt it burning in his veins. He knew of a member of the band, Vicky, who he would love to visit. He had always fancied her. She would never look twice in his direction though and had a boyfriend, Jake, who also played in the band. It really made Stephen angry to see them together. He was so jealous and had fantasized about Vicky and himself for a few years now. Maybe tonight was his night.
Her house looked empty with the curtains closed and the lights off.
He knew she was inside, the smell drew him like a magnet. His mouth watered. Stephen tried the front door, which was a latch type and it was locked. The back door, however, was unlocked and he swung the door open. There were advantages to living in the country and open doors was one of them.
‘Vicky?’ He called but there was no answer. He was about to call again when he heard movement on the stairs. The kitchen door opened from the hall and she was there. ‘Stephen,’ she said with a sigh, not surprised to see him at all.
He gazed at her, a lust and longing that had needed to be satisfied for so long.
‘You are like me,’ he said quite plainly.
‘You have called for me haven't you?' She smiled.
‘Yes, take my hand’ he said. She walked to the back door and took his hand. His eyes had never left hers since he had opened the door and she looked at him, unblinking.
‘Let’s go upstairs.’ He said, and stepped in.
Stephen realized that two things were apparent here. Firstly, he had absolute power over her and he loved it. Secondly, she also knew he had power over her, could do nothing about it and loved it too. She was compelled to do what he commanded. Cool, he thought. She walked up the stairs as if in a trance and he followed her. They went into her room and she stood by the bed, turned around and looked at him. As if she was waiting for his next instruction, unable to do anything unless he said it. Simon says? No this game was Stephen says.
‘You might as well take your clothes off. It would be easier in the long run.’ She took off her dressing gown and slipped off her pyjamas. She stood naked in the moonlight, her beautiful body gleaming in the light from the streetlamp, which came through the window and illuminated half the bed. Vicky was very curvy, her voluptuous body was even more fantastic than he had imagined. He stared at her breasts and then between her legs. For a long time he did this. She waited. He did not move from his position. Stephen had never seen a real woman naked and had not been intimate with one in his life. Knowing that he was going to enjoy it this so much, he walked over to her, pushing her down on the bed with one hand and lay down beside her. Unable to delay this any longer he immediately bit her neck. His first taste of human blood and his first woman. They locked together in eternal death and lust.
The rest of the band had gone and Michael stood outside fiddling with his car keys whilst they all drove off. He could see The Master in his usual place and was desperate to be with him. The Master wanted a word with him too. As soon as the last taillights had disappeared, Michael ran over to The Master. He saw that there were others around him and he started back towards his car.
‘Come now,’ The Master said to Michael. He didn’t want to go over there. That was a proper pack of hyenas. Some he knew and others he didn’t. He stood where he was.
‘It’s alright, er… I’ll see you later,’ he said, swallowing, and backing away to the safety of his car.
‘No need to be worried about this, Michael. You are fine. It is just because you are still made of human flesh. But you have my protection.' Michael was not fully reassured about this but would have to accept it. He walked over to the pack, with a wary look on his face. They all smiled back at him, menacingly.
13 - Sheep
Stephen was in trouble. He had not had the permission of the master to go and visit Vicky. Yes, luckily he had done a good job and had turned her fully into one of their flock. But it was a close thing. He had drained her very low before enjoying her sexually then finally turning her after several hours. The Master said that Michael had to constantly be with Stephen to try and control his behaviour.
That evening one of the Thompsons neighbours who shared a food waste bin with them, went to empty some potato peelings into the bin. As she opened the bin, the smell that wafted out at her was terrible. She looked in the bin and jumped back immediately. She took a deep breath and then warily looked back into the bin. Yes, there were real heads in there. Two sheep’s heads. Eyeless, uncooked and bloody. Underneath that she was also surprised to see lots of raw bones. This wasn't good enough, she thought. Disgusting. She always put food waste in the caddy bags then put them in the green bin. Now that she had seen this monstrosity, not even in caddy bags, she was determined to have a go at the Thompsons. Without thinking twice she went straight to their door and knocked on it. Michael answered.
‘Can I come in?’ She said abruptly.
‘Yes,' he replied and opened the door so she could get through. She had been in before, many times because she had often been very useful on the neighbourhood watch, where he was the organiser. This time he could tell something was wrong though. Stephen was in the kitchen and the door was shut. This was a good thing, as far as Michael was concerned, as Stephen looked dreadful today. Chalk white and demonic. He was also in a foul mood.
‘Take a seat in the living room.’ She stomped into the living room and sat down. He could see she was frothing herself up for a confrontation. Let’s get it over with, he thought. ‘What can I do for you, Mrs Welch?'
‘Micheal, have you been ordering whole sheep from the butchers, by any chance?’
He thought this was a strange question and then just before he answered, he realised where it might be going.
‘Yes I have,’ he said boldly. Pleased with her quite innocent, conclusion about the sheep. It could have been a lot worse.
‘Can you please not put the raw bones in the communal bin without putting them in the green food bags? Flies will land on there and the next thing you know we will have maggots to try and get rid of. The bin is already smelling very bad.’ She sniffed as if this was a final punctuation mark. Mrs Welch waited for Michael to reply. Michael opened his mouth to speak, but then Stephen walked in, silently sauntered past her, all the time glaring at her and sat in the armchair. Michael thought, oh no, this is going to kick off. As Michael hadn’t replied to her yet, she went into her next rant. ‘There was something else in there too. You've been putting loads of cotton wool, from what it looks like, in there too. That does not go in the green bin either. It is not food waste.'
‘It isn’t cotton wool, it’s sheep’s wool,’ said Stephen openly.
‘What do you mean?’
‘You heard. The…wool….off….a ...sheep.’ He said slowly and loudly, defining every word as if she could not understand him or was deaf.
‘What?! When you get a lamb from the butchers, it arrives skinned. I have had one before. You can ask for the head and make sheep's head broth. I’ve never made it but I understand that. However, it never comes with the wool. I know that isn't what have you been putting in there.’
‘I tell you it's the wool, I skinned it myself.’
She then saw Michael and Stephen take a quick glance at each other, and straight away she knew something was wrong. Something had been unearthed here and she was going to get to the bottom of it.
‘What are we talking about here?’ She asked.
There were more looks between the two of them. Micheal ever so slightly shook his head at Stephen. Please leave it, he thought.
‘You two have been sheep rustling, haven’t you?’
‘No, we haven't!’ Said Michael defensively.
‘Yes, we have.’ Stephen said at exactly the same time. Michael quickly looked at Stephen and knew he was going to go for it.
‘What are you going to do about it?’ Stephen said.
‘First, I am going to ring the farmer. Then I am going to ring the police.’
‘Oh you are, are you?’ Michael said, ‘You have made a very big mistake saying that to him,’ he said sadly.
Stephen stood up and in one second was upon her, ripping the front of her coat open. The big orange buttons flew off across Michael’s living room. Michael stood watching, frozen to the spot, unable to make a sound or move. He started to press onto her chest with his strong fingers and as if by magic, Michael thought, her chest began to open. Stephen put his mouth to the gushing wound and began to drink. She was making a gurgling noise and her hands w
ere twitching, squeezing the air. Stephen held her like a rag doll. Her eyes both slowly turned and looked at Michael.
Her hands clutched out to him and her eyes rolled back to Stephen. Even as he looked at this scene he saw the life draining out of her and she slumped backwards, lifeless. Stephen stepped back, dropping her onto the sofa. She bounced a little and the top half of her flopped forward so she lay folded over on her own lap. She looked like she was closely examining her own feet. Blood still came out of her chest and ran down in between her knees onto their carpet. Stephen looked over to Michael.
‘So that is how you always get it all over your face?’
‘Yes,’ said Stephen, ‘That is what I usually do.’
‘Well we are in a right pickle now. What were you thinking of, putting them sheep bones in the bin?’
‘You just told me to get rid of them. That's where we put the stuff isn't it? What we aren’t going to eat.’
‘Not your carcasses,’ he said, ‘It obviously was going to incriminate you sooner or later and now look what has happened! What if a gang of bin men had seen it?’ Stephen shrugged.
‘She won't be telling anyone, now will she?’
‘No, but you need to get all them bones out before the bin men come or put them in plenty of caddy bags. Go upstairs and wash your head, whilst I think about what we should do about all this.’ Stephen wandered out of the room. Michael looked at the state of his living room and was at a loss of what to do. There was nothing for it, he would have to tell The Master now. This was an actual murder that had happened. He rang the number at The Grange and Kate answered.
‘Hello, lovely lady,’ he said, ‘It’s Michael. When are we meeting again?’
‘Soon,’ said Kate, ‘But you know how things are. We are all very busy here and I suppose you are too but we will get together, I promise.’
‘I cannot wait. Anyway, can I speak to Norman, please? Important business and all that, you know.’
Sticky Valves: Book 1 of the Saddleworth Vampire Series Page 11