Vampyrrhic

by Simon Clark

  And in those eyes there came a collision of other opposites too.

  I want to pull away, Electra thought dizzily, I want to run and run until my shoes wear away to nothing and I’m running on the bare skin of my soles right down to the centre of the Earth. Somewhere I’ll never be found. Somewhere where I’ll be safe forever.

  And yet she longed to get closer to this fascinating creature. Her heart thudded hard as a sheer sexual energy crackled through her hips and stomach.

  I want to touch her lips. I want to marvel at the size of those great white teeth beneath the lips. And they are beautiful lips. Oh…just to touch them wouldn’t do any harm, would it? And if I’m going to touch them with my fingertips, then I might as well kiss them, too. And close my lips around the dark tips of her breasts. Then I might as well slide to my knees, kissing all the time; then run my fingers up her bare thighs, and then breathe the warm scent of her —

  The howl nearly split her head in two.

  Electra jerked back, slapping both palms against the wall.

  She gasped.

  At that moment the erotic smile on the vampire girl’s face changed to one of fury…then agony. The eyes bulged.

  Electra threw her hands up to protect her own face as a glittering piece of steel swung out of the darkness. The howl came again: the throaty howl of the chainsaw.

  Steel teeth bit.

  The vampire’s chin jerked up; the claw-like hands clenched in pain; a thin screech pierced the lips.

  Simultaneously, the chainsaw spat minced flesh.

  Electra watched in horror as the head came clean off and bounced down, actually striking the toes of her left foot with a force bruising enough to make her clench her teeth.

  For a second the body of the girl stood straight, the arms straight out in a crucifixion pose, fists clenched. Fluid spurted up from the yawning hole between the shoulders to splash against the ceiling. Bare breasts quivered.

  Then the body fell down with a slapping sound.

  ‘Where are the others?’ Black stepped out of the gloom, the chainsaw in one hand, his tattooed face wreathed in the blue smoke from the motor. ‘Electra. Listen. Where are the others?’

  She shook her head, she was trembling. ‘I don’t know…’ She nodded down at the headless vampire. ‘She — it tricked me. It grabbed my hand in the dark…I thought it was one of us. Dear God, I really thought it was one of us.’

  Black jerked his head. ‘Walk in front of me. I’ll watch your back. The bastards are swarming up here like rats.’

  ‘Your arm! What happened?’

  Black looked down at his arm as if Electra had mentioned nothing more important than a piece of fluff on his sleeve. He didn’t seem to notice that the arm had been smashed so that a piece of bone jutted through the flesh of his forearm and blood dripped from a mangled set of fingers.

  ‘Those things have bitten you, haven’t they?’

  ‘I’ll be all right. Now move. I can hear them.’

  Electra moved along the tunnel. Black walked sideways, repeatedly glancing back the way he’d come. He held the chainsaw in one massive paw; the engine ticked over, sounding harshly metallic in the confined space.

  Electra set her eyes grimly ahead into the black throat of the tunnel and walked purposefully on.

  3

  David Leppington walked quickly beneath the town that bore his name. They’d reached a grating set in the roof. The little light filtering through showed they were, for the time being, free of the vampires. And that Electra was gone.

  ‘We can’t go back for her,’ he told Bernice. ‘We’d probably run back into the arms of those monsters. Just pray she managed to get away in the dark.’

  Bernice nodded, grim-faced, and glanced back at Maximilian. He looked impassively back at her. ‘Are you OK?’

  ‘I’m OK, thank you,’ he acknowledged politely. ‘But I would like to eat some pizza.’

  ‘Pizza?’ David nearly guffawed, and if he did laugh it would, he knew, border on the hysterical. ‘Pizza. You like pizza?’

  ‘No,’ Maximilian said calmly. ‘Not much. But anything’s better than being down here with those white people.’

  ‘Christ, you can say that again.’ David smiled at the man, feeling a sudden powerful kinship with him. They were all in this together, made comrades-in-arms through fear.

  Bernice walked on a few steps. She rubbed her forearm, her teeth chattering but not with cold. David noticed for the first time the clothes she was wearing. The long black lace gloves, the black satin skirt, black leather boots that were so tightly laced they looked as if they were part of her legs; her lips were thickly reddened with a blood-red lipstick; her eyes were outlined with kohl and shaded with a black that gave them a darkly erotic look. She could have played the part of the vampire bride with consummate ease.

  With the sword still in his hand, he looked back along the tunnel. It lay in utter darkness. He could see none of the vampires, but he didn’t doubt that they would not be far behind.

  ‘Any sign of Jack?’ asked Bernice.

  ‘None.’

  ‘Do you think the monsters have him now?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ He shook his head grimly. ‘I really don’t know.’ He took a deep breath. ‘The question is, which way now?’ He pointed with the sword at half a dozen tunnels branching off in front of them. Bernice shook her head.

  Maximilian said, ‘Eenie, meenie, minie, mo.’

  David forced a grim smile. ‘It’s as good a way of choosing as any, I suppose. OK. We take mo here, on the right. Stick close. Damn…we’re going into the dark again. Everybody hold hands.’

  Once more that black-as-hell darkness consumed them in its deathly grip.

  4

  Electra stopped dead. She couldn’t believe her eyes. There, directly in front of her, was a circle of amber light. ‘Thank God for that.’ She moved quickly forward. Now there was a faint roaring sound. ‘Do you hear that, Jack?’

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘That, my dear love, is the sound of the river. The bloody lovely River Lepping. This must be one of the culverted streams that runs out from the river bank. Damn. There’s a grille. We can’t get out.’

  ‘We’ll get out all right,’ Black grunted. ‘Stand back. I’ll kick the damn thing down.’

  The grille was made of welded iron bars. A couple of hefty padlocks held it shut.

  Christ, thought Electra, feeling something like a giddy rush. So near, yet so far. There was the outside world just three short steps away. Beyond that was the river. She could see the moon through rags of cloud streaming through a windy sky. She could see the willow branches swaying. She could see a street light on the far bank casting the amber light that now fell on her hands.

  Black held the chainsaw in one hand — it still ticked over, blowing out puffs of blue smoke; in that no-nonsense way of his he walked forward and kicked the grille. It shook beneath the force of the blow. He kicked again. The padlocks rattled.

  Black’s ferocious gaze swept over the railing, searching for a weak spot. He shifted his position and kicked to one side of the grille near the hinges. Electra saw these were misshapen with years of rust. He kicked hard; a great clanging sound went ringing away down the tunnel — for all the world it sounded like the tolling of a cracked bell of monstrous dimensions.

  Electra shot anxious glances into the darkness, expecting figures to come racing down upon them.

  When he kicked his mangled arm flailed limply as if it was a sleeve filled with nothing more than rags; blood flicked against the wall.

  He aimed a massive kick at the grille. ‘Uph! Got you, you bastard!’ The top hinge had snapped. He lifted his foot. This time he didn’t kick, he pushed. The grille sagged outwards with a screeching sound.

  Sweat glistening on his tattooed forehead, he grunted. ‘Think you can get through that gap?’

  ‘I think so.’

  ‘Best do it, then. We’ve got company.’

  He lifted the
motor end of the chainsaw to his mouth and, using his teeth, twisted the throttle. Instantly the motor raced to a chattering roar.

  Electra quickly squeezed through the gap between the grille and the stone frame of the tunnel’s mouth. She found herself on the dirt banking. She turned back to help Jack through the grille.

  Instead of following her out of the tunnel, she saw him rest the chainsaw down on the ground, then one-handedly pull the grille back from the inside, sealing the tunnel.

  ‘Jack!’

  He picked up the chainsaw and jerked his head, indicating she should go-

  ‘Jack! Get yourself out here, right now!’

  He mouthed the word NO and jerked his head again for her to leave.

  ‘Jack. I’m not going without you.’

  ‘No! Get back to the hotel. Lock the doors.’

  ‘Listen to me, you idiot. I’m not leaving you.’

  Shaking his head, he turned his back on her; the chainsaw buzzed noisily in one hand, blue exhaust fumes filling the air.

  ‘Jack. Get out of there!’

  He ignored her.

  ‘Jack.’ Tears streamed down her face. ‘For crying out loud, I love you! Don’t you dare leave me like this! Don’t you dare!’

  He kept his back to her.

  ‘Did you hear me, Jack Black? I love you! I love you!’

  For a moment she thought he hadn’t heard. Then he turned slowly to face her. She looked him in the eyes. They’d always been cold, hard. Now for the first time, they softened. ‘Electra —’

  The sudden screech that exploded in the air like a high-explosive shell came with a blur of movement. Black swung the chainsaw; there was an eruption of shredded skin. The headless body of a vampire flopped down behind the grille.

  ‘Jack — Jack!’

  Electra screamed his name; almost as if that alone would empower him somehow. But from the black heart of the earth the vampires fell on him in a screaming, ravening hoard.

  He retreated until his back was pressed against the grille.

  On the other side of the grille, separated from the man she now loved by those cold iron bars, Electra could only stand and watch the battle.

  The chainsaw screamed; Jack roared in fury and sheer blood-lust. The creatures swarmed all over him, biting, clawing. He shrugged them off; scythed at them with the chainsaw, severing heads, even bisecting one at the waist so a torso fell one way, twitching and kicking, the legs another.

  Then the attack ended as quickly as it’d begun.

  At that instant, the chainsaw coughed and died.

  The sudden silence was stunning. Electra found herself struggling to breathe — she must have held her breath, not daring to breathe until the attack was over.

  Black turned back to face her through the grille.

  Surely he’d leave the tunnel now?

  He looked at her, fixing her with his eyes. He moved his lips. No words came.

  Then she saw a tide of red — a wet, living red, creeping down his white T-shirt. Her eyes swept up to his throat. There she saw a deep gash: blood pumped freely from the wound. She could see — even in this shit-awful light — the blood swell, bubble, then pour down his throat and down his chest, soaking the T-shirt red.

  ‘Oh, Christ,’ she breathed, her hand to her mouth. ‘Oh, dear Christ.’ She reached through the bars of the grille as he slumped forwards. She tried to hold him up on his feet but the weight of him sliding down face first against the grille dragged her down to her knees.

  He slumped down on his side. Then, still looking into her eyes, he gave a slow blink. Which she guessed meant Its OK, don’t worry.

  But it wasn’t OK. She gave a cry which sounded like a ridiculous, a damn’ ridiculous hiccup in her throat.

  Then the tears came. ‘Don’t leave me, Jack. Don’t…please don’t…I need you.’

  His eyes dulled and she knew he was gone.

  ‘Jack. I love you. I love you.’

  Pushing her arm through the bars she stroked his forehead; it was smooth, cool as marble. Tears streamed down her face. ‘Oh God, you were my knight in shining armour after all; you were, you were. Only I was too stupid to see it.’

  A white ball lunged out of the darkness of the tunnel.

  She saw glaring eyes; an open mouth; pointed teeth.

  She threw herself back, tugging her arm free of the bars as it crashed face first into the grille.

  The eyes glared out at her. They were malevolent, laced with hatred.

  And oh so hungry.

  She saw the vampire straighten and reach up to grasp the bars of the grille. She knew then what it would do. Tear down the bars. Then take her, too.

  Behind it more of the figures came stealthily as panthers from the darkness.

  The only barrier between her and them was this flimsy piece of old ironmongery.

  Then there was a scuffling motion, followed by a sharp hissing.

  ‘Oh, my God,’ she breathed. ‘The bastards are fighting over his body.’ In horror, she saw them crouching down over the fallen man. They were lapping at the wound at the throat. Another creature sucked at a torn finger; another battened itself onto the wound in the arm.

  The vampire that was about to tear down the grille saw it would lose its share of the kill. With an angry snarl it let go of the bars and fell down on top of the dead man’s body; soon it too was feeding.

  Electra shook her head; she wanted nothing more than to vomit.

  With a wrench she turned away from the unspeakable scene.

  In front of her the river roared over the boulders in licks of white foam. The wind blew hard, cooling her burning face and tugging her hair.

  It was precisely at that moment that she knew what she must do.

  CHAPTER 44

  1

  Electra focused her mind. You’ve got intellect. Use it!

  She ran up the banking from the river. The towers of the hotel loomed in front of her. Behind them the sky was spattered with stars. Clouds raced across them like animals fleeing from a catastrophe.

  OK, she told herself, this is where you put this lunatic drama to bed once and for all.

  Emotions, thoughts, memories clamoured inside her head: Jack standing there, soaked in blood…the way he folded up like a rag doll, knees and forehead thumping against the grille…the vampires feeding on his blood; is he one of those things now? Vampiric? No, close off those thoughts. Concentrate on one idea. Imagine that idea is a single star in the sky. A great shining star. Think clearly. You’ve only got a matter of minutes before those creatures smash through the gate.

  Now she felt herself grow calm, clear-headed.

  She hurried to the hotel, unlocked the door, grabbed her leather bag from the peg, then returned to the car.

  The time was a little after eight.

  The wind blew harder, drawing fluting sounds that were soulful — and as dark as the blood at the heart’s core.

  She looked about her constantly, expecting to see the bobbing white heads pouring from out of the darkness.

  Even though her limbs shook, she moved purposefully, without a hint of panic. Her coordination was machine-like as she unlocked the

  car and climbed in, dropping her bag on the passenger seat beside her.

  She started the engine and pulled out of the car park, murmuring softly, ‘All right, Jack. This is for you.’

  2

  In the tunnel David looked up. A watery yellow light from a street lamp filtered down through a grate high above. He reached out and touched the wall in front of him, hoping it wasn’t really there; that it would just be a cruel illusion.

  It wasn’t.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he murmured to the other two. ‘We’ve reached a dead end.’

  ‘What now?’ asked Bernice.

  ‘We’ll have to go back the way we came and try another tunnel.’

  She nodded. Her face was expressionless; she could feel no more emotion; at least, not yet. All feeling — fear, hatred, disgust — had
been milked from her; she was dry as paper, her heart empty.

  Slowly they began to retrace their steps. David took the lead again, the sword held out in his hand.

  3

  Electra drove to the hospital.

  The lights burned brightly. It was visiting time; the car park was full.

  She parked the car in the space reserved for a Dr Perrault (so the sign told her). Then, taking her bag, she climbed out of the car and headed coolly and purposefully for the hospital entrance.

  Her mind ranged on ahead, as if reconnoitring the route.

  She knew the name of the ward; and that George Leppington had been put in a side ward off from that.

  The corridors would be busy. No one would notice her.

  But they’ll notice the blood on your hand, she thought. Jack’s blood from when you tried to catch him as he fell dying, his throat ripped open.

  She quickly retraced her steps to the car, took the coat from the back seat and hung it over the bloodstained hand. There, that should hide it. Then she slipped the strap of her bag over her shoulder and headed for the hospital once more.

  People milled in the foyer. They were mainly visitors, either coming or going, or buying drinks or snacks from the vending machines. There were a couple of nurses. They were hurrying, busy on errands of their own.

  Still cool, unflustered, Electra walked quickly up the stairs, then took one of the mint-green corridors towards the general wards. The lights seemed hideously harsh to her after she’d been so long in the gloomy tunnels. The brilliance itself was like a pair of thumbs pressing down into her eyeballs.