by Phil Price
“Kitchen Dad. Come through.” Doug walked into the kitchen to see his son sat at the table with a young woman with curly dark hair. Jake smiled. “Dad, this is Kerry. Kerry this is my Dad, Doug.” Kerry stood up clumsily, offering her hand.
“Ello. Nice to meet you.”
“Hello Kerry. You here to get Jake back online?”
“Something like that Dad. There is coffee in the pot. Help yourself while I show Kerry the laptop.” Doug ambled around the kitchen, picking up a spoon and cup before pouring himself a coffee, enjoying the moment. He could hear seagulls. He could actually smell the air. It had a tang to it that he loved. Not the smoke riddled smog that permeated around the cities. This was crisp and vibrant. He loved it. He was actually whistling when his son came back into the kitchen.
He looked at his dad warily. “You okay? You’re whistling.”
“I am happy sometimes. Mainly when your Mom’s out.”
Jake playfully punched his father on the shoulder. “Wait here while I get the buttons. Two minutes.” Doug sat sipping the strong coffee. He could hear the muted thumps his son was making up in the loft and the metallic whine of the ladder as he climbed back down. Seconds later he was sat next to him, offering him a small wooden box frame. Doug took it, has expression clouding. The small frame was cold. Considerably colder than the balmy kitchen. He inspected the buttons. Hearing the clunk as he lightly shook them in their frame. His hands were tingling. Outside the heaven’s opened as dark clouds passed overhead. The kitchen suddenly felt dark and cool. “Barbara found the one in Guzman’s office which was in Puerto Rico back in 1951 if I remember correctly. The other one I ripped from the boy vampire’s coat in that cave I told you about.”
Doug nodded. An icy dread was smothering the warm feelings he had built up over the last few days. He put them on the table, wrapping his hands around the comforting coffee cup. “What will you do with them?”
“Not sure. Instinct tells me to bin them. After all what are they? Two old buttons. But something is telling me to keep them. Not in the house of course. What do you think?”
Doug looked at the frame, sipping his coffee. “Do you not think that someone or something will one day come looking for them?”
“The boy was ripped to pieces. The rest of them were destroyed, except Elias and Guzman. Do you really think they can find them?”
“They found you on more than one occasion Son. Why risk it?” Jake let his father’s words seep into his brain. He nodded and stood up, scooping the buttons up from the table. He clicked them back into the frame as he walked to the back door. He opened it, dropping them into the large black bin under the kitchen window. Doug placed a hand in his arm when he sat back down. “No more dramas. No more adventures in far off places. It’s time to raise a family Son. Let’s leave the last few months behind us and move on.”
“Your laptop is kaput.” Both men looked up startled. Kerry was stood in the doorway holding it in the crook of her arm. “You need a new hard drive.”
“Sounds painful and expensive,” Doug said.
Jake took the news in his stride. “How quickly can you get it up and running? I don’t care how much it costs. I just really need it working.”
“I can pick one up today. There’s a place I use in Camelford. I can be back in an hour and have it working an hour after that. Does that sound like a good plan?”
“Kerry you’re a life saver. Add the petrol to the cost and I’ll give you another hundred for a job well done.”
“Fifty is enough. It’s best not to overcharge a private investigator. I might need your services one day.”
A minute later Kerry closed the back door behind her and ran down the drive through the rain, leaving the two men in the kitchen, suddenly at a loss as what to do. Jake looked at the clock on the wall and smiled. “Pint?” Doug looked at the clock on the wall.
“Son, it’s ten past twelve! I’ll get my coat. Do you have a brolly?”
☨☨☨
Kerry chewed her bottom lip as she tightened the last screw into place. Satisfied, she fired up the laptop and spent an hour configuring the machine, transferring the old hard drive into the new one. Happy with her work, she left a note on the kitchen table before heading out the back door. “Crap,” she said as she’d forgotten something from inside. She scooted back into the house, appearing a few seconds later with an empty cardboard box that had contained Jake’s new hard drive. The storm had blown its way east, leaving the land feeling refreshed. She lifted the bin lid and was about to discard the trash when something caught her eye. Her face took on a puzzled expression as she found herself looking into the plastic bin at what appeared to be a small wooden frame. She reached inside and took it in her hands, liking the cool feel of it. “Hmm,” she said as she closely inspected two metal buttons that each had an identical eagle stamped across the front. These are nice. I wonder why they are throwing them away? She was suddenly unsure of what to do.
“Hi Kerry.” Her head snapped up, spotting a woman at the bottom of the driveway. “You going down the beach tonight? Should be a mental party.”
Kerry smiled at the woman, whose hair looked to be ten shades of red, shaved on one side. “Hi Cindy. I should be there. Have a few things to do beforehand.”
“Okay. Laters,” she said as her sloped off towards the high street.
“See you later,” Kerry said as she headed down the drive, William’s two cold buttons bouncing around in her canvas shoulder bag.
Four
Rodney Walker walked along the pavement, dodging moms with buggies and pensioners with tartan trolleys. The weather had turned, summer creeping slowly into autumn. His cargo shorts were stowed in his chest of drawers until next year. Although he knew that wearing trousers instead of shorts would relieve the ribbing that he received from his fellow postmen. He was tall and gangly, with legs that were the same thickness at the calf and thigh. His ginger hair was closely cropped and looked like it needed a good wash. He was slightly hunched at the shoulder, giving him an older appearance than his forty six years spent on Earth. He’d never been a looker. Far from it. But that didn’t bother Rodney. He was constantly on heat. He would try it on with any woman, being rebutted on nearly every occasion. His philosophy was that if he asked a thousand women for a fuck, one of them would oblige. So that was his life’s mission. He had been given numerous warnings at work for his lewd behaviour. Young girls avoided Old Creepy Rodney, whose hands were a little too friendly for most. His best friend was the Sorting Office Manager, which gave him the freedom to follow his life’s hobby without personnel getting him on their radar. He had his own secret drawer at home that was full of fellow employee’s underwear. He looked forward to nothing more once home, then getting into bed with a pair of knickers under his nose and a female sock on his prick. He would joyfully wank himself stupid until the sock was soaked. It would then go in the bin, the underwear back in his drawer. It was his special little secret and he loved it. He was not above stealing underwear from his round if the opportunity arose. He’d walk the rest of the streets with a constant hard-on at thought of what was to come. Quite literally.
This morning had been particularly successful. One of his houses had a side entrance that led to a rear courtyard. Rodney had spied a pair of black tights hanging on a washing line. He had to have them. The coast was clear and they were his. A minute later he was walking past shops and salons in the upmarket village high street with a pair of silky smooth tights tucked into his pants. He could have stopped and cracked one out right there in front of the village deli. Although that would have been a step too far. It would keep. His raging hard-on would simmer for a few more hours until he got home. He started humming his favourite tune. Step on, by the Happy Mondays as he turned off the high street onto a small cul-de-sac lined with pretty mews cottages. As he approached the fourth house his humming stopped as he noticed the front door open a few inches. That was not out of the ordinary. It was the painted foot he could see in
the hallway that made him stop his tune.
“Ello,” he said cautiously as he nudged the door open a few inches. He peered into the dark hallway, his hand tightening on the oak as he saw what was connected to the foot. A woman sat on the carpeted floor, her legs out in front of her. He’d briefly said hello to her a few times before. She had not lived there long, though she was far better looking than the boring cunt who’d lived there before. He’d reminded Rodney of a Copper. Never tipped him at Christmas neither. She must have been in her early sixties, but still was very attractive. Even slumped on the floor she looked well fuckable to Rodney. She started murmuring, making him catch his breath.
He crouched down next to her. “You okay love? ‘Ave you ad a funny turn or somefink?” he said as he noticed her left breast was showing. His prick strained to burst from his trousers as his eyes took in the soft inviting flesh. She continued to mumble words that he could not hear properly. “I’m gonna get you inside. You must be freezin’ if you’ve bin here for a while.” Maybe she’d bin ‘ere all night, he thought as he reached around her, grazing her breast with his calloused hands. She didn’t seem to notice the contact as he hefted her up under the armpits and manhandled her into a cosy rear lounge. He dumped her down on the two seater sofa as he looked around for something to keep her warm. Nothing. As he scanned the room he noticed a dent in the wall high up. He looked at it puzzled. It looked like a bowling ball had been smashed into the plaster. Shaking the thought he darted upstairs to find a duvet or blanket to warm up the old girl. He’d tuck her up good, maybe getting a feel of her thighs into the bargain. All the more for the wank bank later, he thought, pleased with himself. On his way out of the bedroom he fished a pair of the old girl’s underwear out of the laundry basket. They had been worn. Perfect, he thought. He tucked them into his cargo trousers, buttoning the flap down afterwards. Her voice drifting up the stairs made him scoot back down to the lounge. “Here we go. Let’s put this around you,” he said as he draped the duvet over her. He tucked it around the back of her, loving the silken material of her dressing gown. Today was just getting better and better. “Can you tell me what ‘appened?”
“Huh,” was her confused reply.
“I’m your postman. I’ve just found you on your doorstep. I fink you’ve been there all night maybe Love. What’s your name?”
She tried to shake the cobwebs. “Della. Who are you?”
“Me name’s Rodney. I’m your postie. I found you lay in your hallway. I carried you in here. Are you alright?”
“I dreamed. Funny dreams.” Her voice was raspy. Rodney got up and went to the kitchen, opening the fridge and pulling a carton of juice from the door.
He walked back into the lounge and sat next to her. “Ere. ‘Ave some of this,” he said as he held it up to her mouth. She took a few sips, the orange juice spilling down her chin. “Hang on Love,” he said as he went to the kitchen, coming back in with a piece of kitchen towel. She dabbed her chin. “Now what were you saying?”
“Strange dreams. Really clear though. An old friend was looking for him. Said he’d lost contact and wanted to meet up.”
“Lost contact wiv’ who?”
“I can’t remember.” She tried to piece together the jumbled thoughts in her head. “I told him I didn’t have an address. I just knew it was down south somewhere. Oh where was it now? I told him the name of the place.”
“Who was asking you?” Rodney said as a growing unease spread through his gut. His hard-on now deflating.
“I can’t remember. An old friend he’d said. He seemed nice. Very tall. With dark glasses on.” She tried to draw the memory out. “Tintagel! That’s it. I told him they’d moved to Tintagel. And that they were having a baby!”
Five
He needed transport. He also needed to be careful. If the lawmen saw him it might jog their memory. He’d killed the one in charge. However, he knew that the snake would have grown a new head. A dangerous head that would have his scent on its tongue. He knew the doorway was close by. He could pass through and form a plan in the safety of Amatoll. A baby. They are having a child. Thoughts of revenge flooded Elias’s mind. He wanted Jake to suffer. What better way than to take his baby away from him. He thought how best to do it. Images flashed in his mind. Dashing the child’s brains out against a brick wall. Tearing the little body in two. Or maybe even turning it. He smiled in the darkness as the familiar forest gently creaked around him. He could take what they loved the most and turn it against them. His mind was made up. Amatoll forest could wait for now. All he needed was a mode of transportation.
In the cover of darkness Elias made his way swiftly to a nearby housing estate. He knew it was not a nice estate. He knew that he may encounter trouble. Well that was what he was looking for. He came across a public house that spilled music out of its doors into the night. In the corner of the car park, two cars sat in close proximity. He could see smoke coming out of the windows. He’d been around long enough to know that the people inside were smoking drugs. Perfect, he thought. These humans will not report a stolen car to the police too quickly, he surmised. As he made his way across the car park one car’s lights came on as it gently edged its way forward towards the exit. Now just one remained. It was black, sleek and looked expensive. He could see the two inhabitants eyeing him. He walked closer, his hands in his pockets with his head slightly bowed. He knew what he had to do as the car doors opened.
“Help you?” the driver said. Elias could see he was big and confident. The other man was much smaller and seemed to hide behind the door.
“I was just admiring your car. Nice car for a neighbourhood like this, wouldn’t you agree?”
The two men looked at each other curiously. “Well it ain’t for sale so fuck off and look elsewhere,” the big man said. Elias walked towards him, his hands coming out of his pockets. The men suddenly realised his height. Even the driver started to feel trepidation as the giant got to within arm’s reach.
“I’ll make you a deal,” the giant said. “Walk away now. Tomorrow you can call the police and report it stolen.”
The driver laughed. “And if we say no?”
“You don’t want to do that.”
The man behind the passenger door walked around the bonnet, a knife in his hand. “I tell you what Granddad. You fuck off now and I won’t stick this in your throat. How does that sound?” He came to within a few feet of Elias. Neither was expecting what was about to happen. The driver was frozen to the spot as the tall man back handed his friend across the face. He just about heard the clinking sound of his teeth hitting the car park’s floor fifty feet away.
Before the driver could act, Elias had him by the throat. “You should have taken my offer,” he said as he punched him once in the chest, shattering his sternum, ending his life. He walked to the rear of the car, holding the dead driver as if he weighed nothing. He popped the lid, happy to see that the saloons boot was vast. A minute later he dumped the smaller man inside too. He started murmuring as Elias was about to close the boot. He looked down at the pathetic youth who was trying to look up at him. He bent down and punched him behind the ear. A killing blow. He quickly searched them, pleased with the two wads of cash that he pulled from their pockets. He closed the boot and got into the car. He racked the seat back a few clicks until it comfortably accommodated his massive frame. He looked at the screen in front of him, knowing that it was a guidance system. He punched in the name of his destination and put the car in gear. Five minutes later he was pulling onto the M5 south, heading for his quarry. Heading to meet an old friend.
☨☨☨
A few hours later he saw a sign approach for the Huntspill River. He doused his lights and pulled onto the hard shoulder, stopping a few feet away from the railings. The motorway was empty. He knew he had a few seconds before another car would light the road around him. He quickly got out of the car and opened the boot. The bodies inside were now cool to the touch as he dragged them out in the night. One by one h
e threw them into the dark waters that ran underneath the motorway. Satisfied that they would not be discovered immediately, he got back in his car and set off once more. He’d just rejoined the carriageway and switched his beams back on as a set of headlights appeared on the opposite side of the road. Perfect timing, he thought, smiling to himself. The two bodies would never be found. Little did Elias know, but that the river would take the corpses to the Severn Estuary which had one of the strongest tidal currents in the World. By the time the sun rose over this part of the land, the two bloated bodies would be twenty miles out to sea. The black car would be found the following morning by a man walking his dog along Treyarnon Bay. It would take two hours before it was pulled from the sea, washing away any evidence.
☨☨☨
The sea cave was deep enough for Elias to shelter in during the day. He would not risk being seen by either the lawmen, Jake or the Bathurst girl. He would use the blanket of night as his ally. He would find them. Not yet however. First, he needed to feed. He felt weakened and old, his thirst raging in the back of his throat. The following night he took a young surfer in Watergate Bay. Elias felt the strength flow back into his body as he drained the poor boy in the dunes next to the beach car park. He found another sea cave nearby, torching the lifeless husk before it could turn. By the time sun made its appearance in the east, Elias was comfortably propped between two rocks as the tide flooded the cave. Now all he had to do was find them. He had plenty of time. Time to plan.
Six
Jake sipped his coffee as he watched the early morning news. A young reporter was stood on a dark beach a few miles south of him, reporting on the discovery of a badly burnt body in a cave close to the incoming tide. The man, who was wearing a jacket similar to one Jake had hanging in the hallway said that the body was found in the early hours by a young couple who were walking along the beach on their way home from a party. The victim’s identity, along with the motive, was still unclear. The reporter promised updates later before the camera cut to a softly lit studio with a man and woman seated on a long sofa. Jake turned away from the television, picking up a cup of tea before making his way upstairs to Katherine.