by Amy Cross
"You're staying here," Todd says, glancing at me.
"You can't do this to your own family," I tell him. He doesn't reply, and it's clear that he's avoiding making eye contact with me. "She's your niece!" I remind him.
"She's a monster," Benjamin says, interrupting. "Just like Patrick. She has more human qualities, but she's fundamentally a monster".
I turn to Todd. "Do you believe that?"
"She is what she is," he replies. "It doesn't matter what I think. We have to assume that she's the same as Patrick".
"If you hurt her..." I start to say, but suddenly a loud siren starts blaring from back inside the base.
"Back in!" Benjamin shouts, and they all hurry back through the door. I follow them as they run to the main room, where we find a dead technician on the floor. He's been ripped open, with his blood smeared across the room from one corner to the next. Looking down, I realize that I'm standing in what appears to be the intestines of the dead man. "Check the prisoner!" Benjamin shouts.
With the others seemingly frozen in shock, I run over to the next door and reach in, switching on the light. As the bulb flickers, I look up at Patrick.
He's gone.
The handcuffs are empty, having seemingly been torn open, while the huge metal spike has been twisted and bent away. All that's left of Patrick is a patch of blood on the wall, and a set of bloody footprints leading across the room and through the door. It's as if some hugely powerful creature has simply swatted everything aside.
"That's not possible!" Benjamin says as he joins me in the doorway. The siren is still sounding. "Abigail must have come back and freed him".
"She's miles away," Todd replies as he pushes past us and goes to inspect the large spike. "Look at how it was bent. Patrick did this. He freed himself".
"He was too weak!" Benjamin says. "He couldn't possibly have done something like this!"
"Maybe he wanted to protect Abby from you," I say.
"He was unconscious," Benjamin insists, but I can hear the panic in his voice. His assumptions are falling apart. "Anyway, he was too weak. He's dying. He doesn't have the strength to do this. That equipment is impossible to bend!" He walks to the dome and examines the base of the spike. "He shouldn't have been able to get free," he says, still not willing to believe that he was wrong. Even faced with the evidence that he was wrong, he's trying to come up with some other explanation.
"Maybe he loves her," I point out.
Benjamin turns to me. "What?" he asks, almost spitting the word out with contempt.
"Maybe he loves his daughter," I continue. "Maybe he won't let anything stand in his way if he thinks she's in danger". Suddenly the siren shuts off, leaving us standing in silence. "Maybe he loves her too much to let you hurt her".
"He's not capable of love," Benjamin says.
"Then how do you explain what happened?" I ask.
He pauses for a moment. "We have to get Abigail back," he says, turning to Todd. "Patrick can't be moving too fast, not while he's dying. We have to get to Abigail first. Once we have her, Patrick will come to us".
From over my shoulder, I hear a distant shrieking sound. I turn and look at the technicians, but they just stare back at me as if they have no idea where the noise is coming from. "What the hell is that?" I ask, looking about the room. Realizing that it's coming from the far corner, I hurry over and see a box on one of the desks. The shrieking sound is coming from directly inside the box. Cautiously, I reach over and remove the lid. As Benjamin comes up behind me, I stare in horror at the five or six dead chicks, each of them bleeding from wounds all over their bodies. A puddle of blood has begun to form at the bottom of the box.
"What the hell is this?" I ask, turning to Benjamin.
He stares at them. "They turned on each other," he says, as if he can't quite believe it. He reaches in and checks each chick. "They're all dead," he says finally. "They killed a quisling earlier, but they weren't supposed to turn on one another". He pauses for a moment. "I suppose it must have given them a taste for blood". He turns to Todd. "We have to get Abigail back here. We have to get her back right now!"
Chapter Seven
The journey takes me three days and three nights, during which I don't dare to stop and rest. I don't eat, I don't drink, I don't sleep, I don't even look back over my shoulder; I barely even think. I just keep running and running, determined to get as far away from Dedston as possible, determined to forget everything that's happened to me recently. At any moment, I expect to have Benjamin and the others catch up to me, determined to haul me back to their underground facility. Eventually, however, I realize that maybe I can outrun them. After all, I don't seem to be getting tired; it's as if I can run and run, my fear pushing my body to keep going. I don't have a map, or any way to guide myself, but somehow I know exactly where I'm going and eventually, early on the morning of the fourth day, I find myself standing on a familiar roadside, with a familiar town spread out before me.
Callerton, New Mexico. I'm home.
I can't actually go back to my old house, of course. Benjamin and his men are undoubtedly there already, grilling Evan and Ruth for information about my whereabouts. I imagine Benjamin is pretty pissed off right now, especially since I discovered the little transmitter he attached to my shoe: I discarded it by sticking it to the side of a cow in a field I passed, and I can only imagine Benjamin's face when he raced to the field, thinking he'd finally found me, only to be confronted by a Friesian. Still, all jokes aside, he'll keep trying to find me, which means it's foolish of me to come back to Callerton. I'm walking into a hornet's nest, but I can't stay away. I'm alone in the world. Alone, even though I can't shake the feeling that I'm being watched.
Fortunately, I feel as if I'm getting stronger every day. My body is definitely changing. I'm becoming... something else. I guess I'll have to wait and see how things go. Right now, I'm just scared. Really, really scared. I feel as if I'm divided into two halves: there's the human side, which I got from my mother; and there's the darker side, which comes from Patrick. What if I become like Patrick? What if I become some kind of cold-hearted killer?
I don't dare to venture into Callerton. It's a fairly small town, and there are plenty of people who'd recognize me. Besides, I'm worried about how I look. I feel like I'm changing so fast, maybe I'm starting to look different. Wandering through the forest, I eventually find the river. I kneel down and look at my reflection. I half expect to see some kind of monster staring back, so I'm relieved when I see that it's just me, and I don't look any different at all. All the changes are inside, then. Still, I can't go back to my old life. If people see me around, eventually word will get back to Evan and Ruth, and then to Benjamin. Maybe I shouldn't have come back here after all. Maybe I should just go somewhere completely new.
As for Patrick, I don't want to ever see him again. Benjamin was right about one thing: it's clear that Patrick's incapable of love. How else do you explain the fact that he killed my mother? He used her, and once he'd got what he wanted, he got rid of her. No creature could do such a horrific thing if it had even the slightest capability of feeling love. He must be some kind of monster, filled with anger and hatred, devoid of sympathy for the lives of others. I don't want to be around him. I don't want to help him. I don't even care if he spends the rest of his life pinned up to that wall, to be prodded and poked by Benjamin. They're welcome to each other: the prisoner and his tormentor. As far as I'm concerned, they can stay like that forever, just so long as they leave me out of their macabre, hideous existence.
As the day drags on and I stay in the forest, watching Callerton from afar, I find myself wondering what I'm really doing here. Am I supposed to spend the rest of my life hanging about alone? Although I feel at home here, perhaps it would be better if I move on to a new place? There's a part of me that would love to wait until it's safe to go and see Evan and Ruth again, but there's another part of me that thinks I can never live among humans again. I can't explain it, but I feel this
incredible anger deep inside my soul. Maybe it's always been there, but lately it seems to have been growing faster than ever. I feel like, soon, it's going to consume me entirely, even though I'm trying to keep it pushed down. I don't know where it came from, or why I'm feeling it so strongly. I'm not angry at anything, in particular, or at anyone. I just have this sense of rage, as if the only reason to live is so I can vent my fury. I don't want to become just a knot of anger. I don't want to become like Patrick.
As I wonder through the forest, I feel a growing sense of peace. Eventually, though, something feels wrong and I realize I'm experiencing another of those strange images, although this time it's different and more peaceful. In front of me, I see a girl standing and staring at a statue. As I get closer, I see that the statue looks like Patrick, and the girl looks like me. It must be my mother, Sophie. I walk up behind her, wondering whether there's any way I can make contact with her. Slowly, I reach out a hand to touch her shoulder. She turns to me and -
My thoughts are suddenly disturbed by the sound of footsteps nearby, and the image fades away to leave me standing in the forest just outside Callerton. I turn, shocked at the thought that someone might find me out here. Hiding behind a mud-bank, I listen as someone walks past me just a few meters away. It's not so unusual for someone to be out here, of course, since it's a well-known short-cut from the main part of town to the outskirts. I used to come this way sometimes on my way home from school. Another reason, I guess, why I shouldn't hang around for too long: the last thing I need is for someone to find me out here. I need to stay away from other people, at least while I'm going through these changes. I don't know if I can be trusted.
"Fuck you, then," says a female voice nearby. There's a pause; it sounds as if she's talking to someone on the phone. "Next time you want to hang out with someone, don't call me". As I listen, I realize I recognize that voice. It's Donna, the girl who used to make my life a living hell. Those days feels as if they're a lifetime away, even though it's barely been a week since I left Callerton. Peering around the edge of the mud-bank, I see her walking angrily between the trees. It's weird, but she always used to be the center of attention, with people desperate to hang out with her. Now, though, she seems to be all alone. As I watch her walking away, I know that I should just ignore her. But the truth is, the anger is rising in me once again and I feel as if it's time someone taught this bitch a lesson. Carefully, and silently, I start following her. I don't even know what I'm planning to do, but I'm determined to make sure she learns once and for all never to mess with Abby Hart.
Stepping forward, I feel my foot push against a twig. There's a snapping sound, and Donna turns to see me. There's a look of shock in her eyes. The sight of her face fill me with an uncontrollable anger.
"Hey, bitch," I say. For the first time ever, I like the sound of my own voice.
Book 3:
The Bureau of Lost Vampires
Prologue
Dedston - Sixteen years ago.
"What if she's not dead?" I ask, looking up at my mother as we stand in front of Sophie's coffin. It's a cold day, and the sky above us looks as if it might start raining at any minute.
"Of course she's dead," she replies.
"Yeah, but what if she's not?" I continue. "What if they got it wrong? What if we bury her and then she wakes up?" I pause for a moment. "Maybe you should put a mobile phone in, so she can call if she -"
"Shut up," my mother says, still staring at the coffin.
"Yeah, but -"
"Shut up!" she says firmly, looking down at me. "Todd, seriously. She's dead. They did an autopsy. Do you know what that means? Do you know what an autopsy is?"
I shake my head.
"Exactly. You don't know shit, so just don't ask stupid questions". She turns and walks away, heading over to my aunt, who's helping to arrange the chairs. We're out at the cemetery, waiting for the priest to arrive so Sophie can be buried. It's hard to believe that her body is really in the coffin, and that we're going to put her in the ground and leave her down there forever. I keep thinking about all the worms that are going to start eating her. What if she wakes up, and there's worms eating her, and she can't get out?
"I'll come and visit you every day," I say, staring at the coffin. "I'll bang on the ground to let you know I'm here, and then you can shout if you're awake, and I can get help. Okay?"
"That's a very sensible precaution," says a voice next to me. I turn to find an old guy has come over to join me. He looks like he's fifty or even sixty years old, and he's dressed in a proper suit. "In the Middle Ages," he continues, "in Europe, it was common to place a bell by the grave, with a string going all the way down into the coffin. Can you guess why?"
I stare at him. "So that dead people could let alive people know if they'd been buried by mistake?"
"Exactly," he replies with a smile. "Of course, that sort of thing happened a lot more often back then. Do you know why?"
I think about it for a moment. "Because the doctors weren't as good".
"Excellent," he says. "You're very clever. Of course, the problem was that when it was windy, all the little bells would ring anyway. Can you imagine how spooky that must have been?"
A shiver runs through me as I think about being in a cemetery at night, and hearing a bell ring.
"Doctors are a lot better today," he continues. "That's very good, because it means they can help cure us when we get sick. But it also means that mistakes are rarer".
I look at the coffin. "But there's still a chance, isn't there?" I ask. "She might just be really really asleep".
"Come and sit down," the old man says, gesturing to the first row of chairs. "You're Todd, aren't you? You're Sophie's brother?" I watch as he goes to sit down. He has a cane, and he seems to be limping on his right leg. He smiles as he takes a seat. "It's okay," he says, "I won't bite".
I look over at my mother. She's busy talking to other people. Sophie always told me not to talk to strangers, but I guess that this man wouldn't be at Sophie's funeral if he was a stranger. There are loads of people here who I don't know, but most of them are members of my family.
"I used to leave next door, when you were very young," says the man as I take a seat next to him. "I guess you were still a baby when I moved away, though, so you wouldn't..." He smiles. "Sorry, none of this is important. I just wanted to tell you that I'm very impressed by how strong you're being today. Your sister would have been really proud of you. You're a very intelligent and mature young man".
"Did you know her?" I ask.
"Yes," he says, nodding, "I knew Sophie. Not very well, and certainly not as well as you know her, but I saw her playing in the yard a few times. She seemed like a very nice girl. You remind me of her a lot. You have the same look in your eyes. The same intelligence".
"She's dead," I say.
"I know," he replies, "and I'm so sorry about that. It breaks my heart when young people pass on before their time. It's not right when people such as your sister die, but old men like me keep going on. We must just trust in God and accept that he has a plan for all of us".
I look over my shoulder and see that my mother is still talking to other people. The funeral service is going to start any minute.
"I was at your father's funeral as well," the man continues. "I'm so sorry you've suffered two tragedies in such a short space of time".
I turn back to him. "I'm not supposed to talk to strangers," I say.
He smiles. "That's very good, Todd," he says. "Very wise. I'm not really a stranger, of course, but I guess you really don't remember me". He reaches out a hand. "My name is Benjamin," he says. "It's a pleasure to meet you and see what a fine young man you're growing up to be".
Although I don't really want to touch him, I shake his hand. Something about this man feels a little creepy. "I have to go and find my Mom," I say, standing up and turning to walk away.
"When did you meet Patrick?" Benjamin says suddenly.
I stop in my tracks. I di
dn't think anyone else knew about Patrick. Turning slowly back to face Benjamin, I feel the hairs stand up on the back of my neck.
"It's not a trick question," he continues. "It's just that so few people have ever met him, and I was wondering about the circumstances that led you to his presence. You'll have to forgive me for asking, I know it's none of my business but..." He pauses. "Very few people know that Patrick exists, and even those who do know are usually unable to find him. I knew a man by the name of Dexter Logan who spent years and years trying to find him, but he could never do it. Not until the end, anyway. So I'm just curious about how you managed to go straight to Patrick when you needed to ask him about Sophie".
I stare at him, not sure what to say.
"You wanted to ask him about your sister, didn't you?" Benjamin says. "You wanted to know if he could find her for you, but he couldn't. It was very brave of you, going down into Patrick's world and looking for him. You must have been scared".
"Not really," I reply.
"It's okay," he continues. "You can tell me. You don't have to, but I'm interested. Patrick's someone who interests me a great deal. I've studied him, over the years, but I've never really got close to him". He reaches down and rolls up his trouser leg, showing me where a chunk of muscle has been torn away. He has a big, nasty scar. "That's as close as I managed to get. As you can see, Patrick wasn't very pleased to see me".
"I was looking for Sophie," I say. "I wasn't doing anything wrong".
"Of course you weren't," Benjamin replies, rolling his trouser leg back down. "No-one was suggesting that you shouldn't have gone to find your sister. It was very brave of you. The only reason I'm asking is that, for most people, finding Patrick is rather difficult, yet you seem to have managed it with surprising ease. That's a skill that I find fascinating, and potentially rather useful".