by Simon Clark
At that instant the blade suddenly sliced downward, severing the windpipe. Instantly a great rush of air blasted up from the wound as the lungs found a shortcut now that they no longer needed mouth or nostrils to aspirate. Still no blood came from the wound.
The blast of air, as hot as that coming from an oven, was shocking. It hit David full in the eyes, forcing him to blink and move back. The force of it fluttered Electra’s hair as if she was crouched over a fan.
The creature’s eyes were wide, unblinking. The eyelashes seemed to mate with the dark eyebrows, forming a black crescent above each white staring eye. The mouth was pulled open into a great ‘O’ shape. The sharp teeth clicked together, punching holes in the long tongue that darted snake-like from the mouth. He even saw the black well of her throat at the back of the mouth.
Cut. Cut. Cut!
Grimly, he sawed at the neck. His arm ached. His shoulder muscles twitched but he didn’t stop now.
Cut. Cut. Cut.
Hot air blasted from the wound that was as grey as raw fish.
The cutting was easier now, like cutting through a loaf of bread.
Seconds later, he sliced into the arteries.
Liquid spurted. It wasn’t blood. This was almost clear, with a yellow tint to it.
He didn’t stop. Grimly, he sawed on with the carving knife. The creature’s body fluids spurted out with enough force to spatter against the walls. Droplets sprayed over their heads.
The knife struck something hard.
Spine, he told himself.
He switched knife for hacksaw. Black pulled harder, parting the two sides of the wound so it looked like a valley stretching all the way down to the whitely gleaming bone. The valley walls — the two halves of the neck still bore that quality of raw fish.
Already the physiology of the creature must be changing. There was none of the redness associated with human muscle tissue. Only that bloodless grey.
Now the creature thrashed with one final effort to prevent its destruction. The gaffer tape began to snap. The creature’s bare calves slapped the stone slab, its hands bunched into fists and flailed as Electra strove to hold the girl down.
Black braced one booted foot against the end of the slab and pulled the head by the chin and the hair.
The thing writhed and twitched, throwing Electra off it as if it was a bucking horse. Its feet kicked high, catching the arching wall, smashing its own toes to jelly. Its mouth snapped open and shut like that of a rabid dog; the sharp teeth ripped open its own lips and bit out its own black tongue. Foam and pus and that piss-yellow liquid erupted in gouts from the mouth and nostrils; the eyes bulged so hugely they looked as if they’d burst.
David pushed the hacksaw forwards, then dragged it back, sawing with all his strength, trying not to let the thrashing creature dislodge the blade.
Snick!
The abrupt parting of head from body threw Black off balance. He fell backwards, still clutching the head by the hair.
David blundered back from the writhing but now headless body. He watched it roll off the stone slab. It squirmed and wriggled there on the floor like some great pulpy maggot. Liquid gushed from the neck.
And, most shocking off all, air continued to flow from the windpipe with a wet blurting sound.
He looked to his left to see Black thrust the head into the bucket. It was still grimacing and chomping madly at the air. The eyes stared from the head — they, too, were still very much alive, turning this way and that as they looked from Black to Electra to David with nothing less than vicious hatred.
It took a good five minutes for the violent movements in the body to subside. Even then the knees lifted spasmodically and great shudders ran through the torso. Air continued to sigh from the severed windpipe. It made a despairing groaning sound as if distraught at losing this monstrous travesty of a life that had animated it.
Electra pulled herself from the floor where she’d been thrown.
‘Are you all right?’ David helped steady her as she rocked back on her heels, dizzy.
‘As I’ll ever be,’ she said in a tiny voice. ‘Is it dead?’
‘I think so.’
Jack Black was the most composed of the three. Matter-of-factly he said, ‘I’ll take this across the river and bury it.’ He put the bucket into a plastic sack. ‘That thing.’ He gave the headless corpse a careless prod with the toe of his boot. ‘That can wait down here tonight.’
CHAPTER 41
1
‘How long until it gets dark?’ asked David.
‘About four hours,’ Electra replied.
They were washing their faces and hands in the kitchen. The towels — they were wet and heavy with body fluids — latex gloves, aprons, knives, hacksaws had been bundled into refuse sacks and stood lined up against the wall, ready for disposal. Black had already made quick work of burying the head, still in the bucket, on the far side of the river. Now he stood in the courtyard, smoking and watching the clouds scud over the sky. The sun had begun its fall to the hilltops.
‘It worked,’ David said. ‘We now know we can kill them.’
‘But how do we repeat that process underground? They’re not going to let us tie them up first, are they?’
He sloshed water up his forearms. ‘Well, it’s going to be messier — but if we can lure them out into the basement one by one…’ He vigorously dried himself with fistfuls of kitchen roll. ‘Maybe we can isolate them. The three of us can overpower them and then…’
He made a chopping motion at his throat with his fingertips.
It could easily have been a bloodthirsty gesture; but inside he felt cold — almost clinical. He told himself this was simply continuing that course of treatment they’d begun downstairs. These vampires were a disease that he was determined to cure.
Electra had dried herself. She lit a cigarette, leaned back against the worktop and regarded him coolly. ‘Lure them out of the tunnels one by one?’ She blew smoke out into the air. ‘How do we do that?’
‘Bait.’
‘Bait?’ She knew what he meant but she wanted to hear it from his lips.
He nodded, grimly. ‘We bait the basement with what they want. When they come through that doorway from the tunnel that’s when we spring the trap.’
‘And you’re going to cut off all those heads with my titchy kitchen knives?’
He shook his head and dumped the wet tissue into the bin. ‘There was a question I meant to ask you.’ He looked up at her. ‘Where’s the nearest place we can hire a chainsaw?’
2
While David went to the hire shop down the street to collect the chainsaws Electra paid off Black’s three buddies. They were on their own again. The Three Musketeers.
She looked up at the sky through the kitchen window. The clouds scudded quickly across the sky. The shadows were growing long. Less than three hours until dusk.
She rubbed her arms and shivered.
3
David pulled the car up behind the hotel. Black was waiting there, ready to unload the chainsaws and the can of two-stroke fuel. They were wicked-looking machines with sharp teeth that could slice through tree trunks. Flesh and bone should be no obstacle to them.
Straightaway, David checked that the fuel tanks of the chainsaws were full, then he took them into the kitchen where he rested them on the floor.
‘You can handle those?’ Electra asked, stubbing her cigarette out into a saucer.
‘Last summer I helped a friend clear a couple of acres of land he’d bought behind his house.’ David crouched down and patted the fuel tank of the chainsaw. ‘Doting man that he was, he’d bought his daughter a pony and needed to clear away a lot of bushes and dead wood; these babies did the job in no time.’
‘Hell, Doc,’ Black sounded impressed for the first time. ‘We’re going to cut off the fuckers’ heads with these?’
‘It won’t be pretty, but I can’t see any other way of doing it in such a short time.’
‘And I
take it I’m going to be the bait, am I?’ Electra raised her eyebrows.
David nodded. ‘I can’t think of any other way, can you?’
‘No,’ she said, stoically gazing down at the wicked teeth of the chainsaws. ‘Well. Shall we take our two babies down into the basement?’
4
Bernice Mochardi, still holding the hand of Maximilian, made her way through the tunnel which grew increasingly gloomy. The sound of water running in the channel echoed from the walls.
‘We can’t be too far from the surface,’ she said in a whisper. ‘Can you hear the cars?’
‘We’re going down,’ Maximilian said. ‘The same way as the water.’
‘That means this tunnel might lead to the river. We might be able to get out there.’
She certainly hoped so. Back in the tunnel of blood an idea had struck her that was as sudden as it was surprising. Now she needed to talk to David Leppington as soon as possible.
If only I don’t bump into anything first, she thought bleakly, and walked faster into the gloom. The only thing we won’t find down here are rats. Clearly the vampires had eaten them all years ago.
She glanced backwards. She thought she’d heard another sound above the rush of water. She held her breath, listening hard. Maximilian stopped, too. She felt the pressure of his hand in hers.
It is a noise, she thought. I can hear footsteps. Lots of footsteps.
Gripping Maximilian’s hand, she hurried on. The sound of footsteps grew louder. And she knew time was running out.
5
Electra asked: ‘Once we’ve lured one of those monsters into the basement, how can we isolate it from the rest?’
‘Jack here’s going to act as doorman.’ David nodded towards the steel door held shut by an assortment of bolts and nails. ‘He lets one in, then he slams the door shut in the face of the rest.’
‘The others in the tunnel will push to come in, have you thought of that?’
‘They’ll try. But I’ve got every faith in Jack. He’s as strong as an ox.’
‘I’ll crush their damn’ heads in the door if I have to,’ added Black with a hard grin. ‘The bastards won’t get by me.’
‘Then we use the chainsaws, take them one by one,’ David told her as he set his chainsaw down on a shelf in the basement.
‘You’d best use the big torch as well,’ Electra said, anxiously rubbing her forearm. ‘If the light’s bright enough it seems to take at least some of the wind out of their sails.’
‘Where is it?’
‘Up in the car, I’ll get it.’
David checked the starter cord of the chainsaw and familiarized himself with the feel of the hand grips and the throttle. Once they got the chainsaw motors started they’d have to keep them idling until they needed them. He wished the basement was better ventilated. The exhaust fumes would build up pretty quickly. Still, he could do nothing about that. They’d just have to grin and bear it.
Electra returned, holding the torch by its pistol grip. She also carried the sword.
‘David. You’d better take Helvetes as well,’ she said. ‘I guess that completes your armoury now.’
‘Thanks.’ He took the sword from her. Somehow the thing did feel reassuring. Comforting, like the surprise appearance of an old friend in a strange town. He took the sword and slipped it blade first through his belt.
The flat of the blade and part of the hilt pressed reassuringly against his hip. Its presence there made him feel more confident and somehow physically stronger.
‘Ah right,’ David told them. ‘Let’s talk strategy. How are we going to actually do this? Jack?’
Jack stood with the chainsaw in one hand. It dangled with the cutting blade pointing downwards. In that massive tattooed paw of his it looked as though it weighed no more than a bamboo cane. The man’s eyes gazed enigmatically at the steel door. For a moment David could have believed that to those man’s eyes the steel had become as transparent as glass, that he could see right through into the tunnel beyond.
And what, exactly, did he see?
‘Jack,’ Electra asked anxiously. ‘Jack? What’s wrong?’
He didn’t reply. His eyes remained fixed on the door. His face was cold as stone.
‘Jack.’ She glanced at David then back at the big man. ‘Jack. What is it?’
Jack breathed in sharply as if he’d been touched by a piece of ice. it’s Bernice Mochardi,’ he said in low voice, head tilted as if listening to a faraway sound; a moment later he nodded with a grave certainty at the door. ‘She’s through there.’
David started, surprised. ‘She’s alive?’
‘I can hear her thoughts in here.’ Black touched his own head. ‘Going over and over fast. It’s important.’ is she alive?’
Black shook his head. ‘Don’t know.’
Electra spoke coolly. ‘Jack. What is she thinking?’
Again he shook his head. That slow, heavy shake, ‘I can’t make out words. But she wants to find you.’ He looked at David. ‘She needs to find you badly.’
‘Why?’
Again that heavy shake of the head. ‘Can’t tell,’ he said.
‘Then she is alive?’
‘Might be.’ Then he jerked his head back at the storeroom that contained the decapitated body. ‘Might have gone over to them.’
David looked at the steel door, standing there mutely in the gloom. Then he reached a decision, ‘I’m going to go find her.’
‘David,’ Electra s voice rose in protest. ‘You heard what he said. What if she’s a vampire now?’
‘What if she isn’t?’
‘David —’
‘She’ll need help. Perhaps we can get to her before those things do.’
He picked up the chainsaw. The tip of the sword caught the wall with a scraping sound.
‘David, you haven’t thought this through. You can’t just —’
‘There’s nothing to think through. I’m going in. Jack, open the door, please.’
‘I’m going too,’ Jack said. ‘I’m going to swat some of those bastards.’
‘Thanks.’ David nodded gratefully.
‘And you’ll need someone to light your way,’ Electra said with a weak smile and picked up the million candlepower torch.
‘You don’t have to do this.’
‘Believe me, I have to.’ Her smile broadened. ‘This is my destiny, David.’ She clicked the switch, lighting the torch. ‘I think we all know we were born to be right here, at this time, to do just this. Am I right, David? Don’t you feel the truth of it all in your blood?’
David nodded, his face determined. ‘Jack? Get the door.’
Jack slipped the bolts from the steel loops fixed to the door and pulled it open.
Beyond, the dark throat of the tunnel waited for them. Quickly they slipped through the doorway and into the cold — the shockingly cold — subterranean air beyond.
CHAPTER 42
1
With a burning sense of urgency David hurried along the tunnel. Following him in single file were Jack, then Electra. She held the powerful torch high behind him; he was aware of its sun-like brilliance blazing somewhere above his shoulder.
It flooded the tunnel in front of him with light, illuminating the herringbone pattern of brick that was stained here and there with mould. Clusters of fungi like bunched fists grew out from the walls, webs patiently spun by generations of spiders rippled in the draught, and along the centre of the tunnel a ribbon of water trickled through a stone channel.
And, huge and dark and somehow monstrous, there was his own shadow cast by the light from behind. The shadow surged eagerly ahead of him, as if in a desperate hurry to find the girl he’d only known for forty-eight hours. Yet already he found he cared for her with such a desperate passion he ached inside. Could the legends be true? Had he loved Bernice in a past life, then cruelly lost her?
‘See anything?’ Black asked from behind.
‘They’ve been this way,’ David r
eplied quickly, ‘I can see footprints in the dust. Jack, have you any idea which direction Bernice might be?’
‘She’s close, that’s all I can tell.’
David moved forward as quickly as he could. Here the tunnel was so narrow you could stand in its centre and still touch both walls with your elbows. As he walked, the tip of the sword scraped against the wall to his left; the chainsaw was brutally heavy in his hands — already his arms and shoulders ached. Christ, this was madness. What if a vampire came at him from around the next corner? How could he start the chainsaw motor in time, then wield the lethal device in this confined space?
His mouth dried. His heart beat faster. Sweat pricked through his forehead.
‘Slow down,’ Electra warned in a whisper. ‘We’re coming up to a bend in the tunnel.’
Stealthily now, David approached the sharp bend. Breathing deeply, he inched his way forward and looked round it.
‘It’s clear,’ he whispered. ‘Come on, the tunnel’s beginning to widen out.’
Now the tunnel ran beneath a road. Grates set in the roof high above his head showed the undersides of cars and trucks as they rumbled by. A chocolate wrapper slipped through the bars of the grate and drifted down like a single large snowflake.
He stopped.
‘What’s wrong?’ whispered Electra.
‘Nothing yet. But it’s only a matter of time before these creatures find us down here. I think we should fire up the motors of the chainsaws before they do.’
‘But the noise?’
‘My guess is that they know we’re already here. The sound of the motors won’t alter the situation. Agreed?’
‘Suits me,’ Black grunted.
Electra gave a grim nod. ‘OK.’
David turned on the fuel tap and tugged at the line that would snap the motor to life. His started first time. A thin blue jet of smoke shot from the exhaust tube. Jack Black’s chainsaw fired up at the second pull of the cord.