The Turning (The Forsaken Series Book 2)

by Phil Price

  Thirty-Six

  The faint blue outline gained strength before their eyes, rousing them into action. “Right. Wilf, stand on the other side of the doorway. Dad, stand here,” Jake said as he handed Doug a large pack of supplies. They worked quickly, passing all the items from one forest to another. From one world to another. “Dad, grab the fuel cans,” Jake said as he kicked his bike off the stand, before wheeling it towards the doorway.

  The outline started blinking, making Doug start. “Come on Son. It’s about to close.” Jake upped the pace, urging the bike through before the void closed.

  “Okay Dad. Let me through.” Doug realised he was blocking his son’s path, moving sideways until he was stood next to the doorway in Amatoll. His face was mere inches away from the blue hue. He reached up with his fingers, gently touching the doorway. Flickers of blue lights danced on his fingertips, making him smile. He moved his fingers up and down, causing blue sparks to cascade into the darkness around them. Before he could say anything to the others, the doorway died away, leaving only perpetual night.

  “Well that went to plan,” Wilf said as he stood next to the array of supplies that they had brought with them.

  “It did,” Jake said as he pulled two long pieces of wood from the supplies. He wrapped a tea towel around the end of each, before lighting them. He handed on to each man, “Here. Hold these while I fuel the bike.”

  Doug stood there, holding the torch, looking at the strange new land he found himself in. It was deathly silent. He could see nothing but trees, or so he thought. His eyes picked out movement a few hundred yards to the east. “What’s that?” he asked, his voice croaky.

  “Fuckenell,” Wilf breathed. “It looks like the spirits from the other place. When Elias torched the forest, they must have fled. It looks like they have come back to claim it once more.”

  “Jesus Christ! Am I actually seeing this?” Doug said in awe. Gooseflesh broke out over his body as one spirit floated over towards the three men, tendrils flowing behind in its wake.

  “Steady Doug. They won’t harm us. They have no form. No strength. They are just the remnants of poor folk,” Wilf said as he swished his torch at the spirit, making it veer away from the light.

  Jake finished filling the bike, screwing the cap on the fuel tank. He looked around the forest, frowning. “We could do with concealing the stuff that stays here. But I think we’ll struggle. There is no greenery to cover it with. Dad. Can I have your torch please? I will take a scout about. You two stand here and keep away from the ale.”

  “I was just thinking about ale,” Wilf said as he beat Doug to the punch, handing Jake his torch.

  “You can think about it Wilf. Just don’t touch it,” Jake said as he headed off into the dark forest, his torch beam lighting the blackness.

  ☨☨☨

  Katherine lay on the forest floor, curled up like a foetus. Alicia snored gently in her mother’s arms. The forest was impossibly black. The only break in the curtain of night was three sets of eyes that shone bright. Two yellow, one red. They sat on the fallen trunks of two trees that until recently were the homes of many a forest creature. Not now, though. As the vampires approached, animals cowered, taking off in every direction, fleeing from the cold radiating dread that spread through the close-knit trees. Elias looked over at the sleeping humans. “We have made good progress. Tomorrow at first light, we shall carry on towards the sea.”

  “How will we know when it’s first light? The trees are too thick to allow daylight in.” Coop said with purpose.

  “The baby will tell us. She will need feeding in a few hours. The forest will come alive with her cries, until mother slakes her thirst.”

  “What about the humans?” Alison said. Her tone flat and monotonous.

  “I’m sure they will come. They may already be on their way. They are resourceful and clever, for humans. They do not know this forest though. I do, to some extent. And we can travel much swifter than they. It would take Jake several days to get to the sea. By that time, he will be tired and weak. If he makes an appearance there, I will have him. Once and for all.”

  ☨☨☨

  The three men made their way through the forest, each one laden down with supplies in backpacks. Wilf grumbled as the pack kept bouncing against the small of his back. He was stoic though. He would carry on until they decided to rest.

  “How far west have you been Wilf?” Doug said, his own pack securely fastened around his plump mid-section.

  “A way yet. The forest fans out soon into a series of glades. We are entering the land of the black unicorn.”

  “Unicorn!” Doug blurted.

  “Aye. I’ve seen one of them. From a distance mind. They are not the kind of beasts to get too close too.”

  “Why not?” Jake said. “In our world, unicorns are meant to be friendly.”

  “Well the black unicorns here are not. They have evil red eyes, and a horn as long as my arm. I’ve heard tales from travellers and hunters over the ages that tell of men being skewered, then torn in two. Or trampled to pieces under their heavy hooves. We’d best be on our guard. If we do see one and it decides to fight, we will need your weapons Jake.”

  Jake nodded warily, looking in all directions as he walked along. “Let’s hope they are asleep. I don’t fancy being skewered.” They walked on in silence, on guard in case of a sudden red-eyed charge from the darkness. Low clouds seemed to touch the tops of the scorched trees, muting the land around them. No sound could be heard, save for the sound of their feet scuffing the forest floor. Each man silently hoped they found a safe refuge as the forest pressed down upon them.

  ☨☨☨

  Eddie and Karaa lay on the straw mattress, limbs entwined. Both were sleeping. Eddie’s lips mouthed silent words, his eyelids flickering. His companion never stirred. Her head was resting on his chest, gently rising and falling. The noise of the tinkling stream nearby filtered in through the doorway. It was a peaceful setting as the cabin was sheltered by the gorge to the west and the forest to the east. In Eddie’s dreams, he was wandering through a strange town, with white-washed walls that seemed to close in around him. The edges of his dream were fuzzy, not letting him see too much of his former life and former home. He’d recounted the same dreams countless times over the years, never unlocking the secrets of his past. His arm pulled Karaa closer to him, causing a murmur from the former chieftain. They were at peace, blissfully unaware of the three men closing in from the east.

  ☨☨☨

  “Wait,” Wilf whispered. “Can you see the cabin? By the gorge.”

  The two other men nodded, Jake whispering back. “Yes. It’s almost camouflaged by the rock. What are you thinking Wilf?”

  I’m thinking of everything. It could be empty. It could be a nice place to set up camp. Or it could be full of monsters, lying in wait for us. We should prepare ourselves.” He turned Jake around, pulling weapons and a cross out of his pack. Jake did the same to his father, handing him what he felt was needed.

  “Thanks Son. I only hope the place is empty.”

  “So do I Dad.” He turned Wilf around, foraging through his pack until he found two stakes and another cross. “How should we do this?”

  Wilf looked at the pair of them, his grizzled features softer in the early onset of dawn. “We should head right, away from the opening. Then come around the walls to the doorway. That should at least keep us out of sight.”

  Doug nodded, the weapons feeling odd in his hands. He was not a vampire killer. He was a regular guy. A father and grandad. His idea of adventure was finding a new DIY store or walking along a new coastal path. This was beyond the realms of his understanding. “Okay. Let’s do this,” he said, his voice raspy and coarse.

  “Follow me,” Wilf said as he headed through the long grass, towards a small crop of trees near the cabin. As they drew closer, each man became aware that the crosses in their palms were becoming increasingly warm. Doug felt a cold dread settle over him, completely ov
erwhelmed by what was about to potentially happen.

  “Let’s lose the packs,” Jake said as he shouldered his way out of his, carefully placing it next to a tree. The two older men followed suit, stowing theirs next to Jake’s. “Okay. I will lead. Wilf, you follow. Dad, you follow Wilf.” They nodded as Jake set off away from the trees, heading towards the cabin that was dwarfed by the gorge beyond. Jake came to a stop as he touched the stout wooden wall of the shack. He waited a few seconds for the others to catch up. By now, the cross in his hand was almost hot. A faint glow emanated from it. The others were reacting the same way. They are here, Jake thought as he started edging towards the corner of the wall. He came around, on to the front wall, the doorway almost within touching distance. Looking to his left, he gave a tight smile and a nod at the two other men. He noticed that his father’s skin was white and clammy, like wet putty. His eyes were wild with fear, his hands shaking. “Ready?”

  “Ready,” Wilf said. Doug only nodded. Jake was about to take his next step when a shriek from inside the cabin, pierced the stillness of the night. The three men fell against the wall, momentarily frozen in shock. A hiss came from inside, making Doug piss himself as he stood immobile. Jake took a deep breath and rounded the opening to the cabin, his cross instantly coming alive in his hand.

  “PUTAS!” Eddie yelled at him as he held his cross aloft. Wilf came around the corner behind Jake, watching as the woman slid slowly up the wall like a giant bug. Her eyes glowed in the darkness. Her fangs bared. Doug finally came around the doorway, his breath catching in his throat as his mind tried to take in the scene unfolding in front of his eyes.

  “Where’s Katherine and Alicia?” Jake said, his voice commanding in the confines of the building.

  “Far from here. You’ll never find them, Human. Elias will turn them very soon. Then they will be like us. Your enemies.”

  “You murderous beasts!” Wilf retorted. “Tell us where he has taken them!” Eddie sneered at him, making his blood boil. He looked across the cabin at Karaa, who had now slid back down the wall. Her hands were in front of her face, trying in vain to ward off the power of the cross. Wilf advanced on her, readying his stake arm. “Jake. Keep him pinned. Doug, move closer to Eddie.” Doug shuffled towards Eddie as instructed as Wilf loomed over Karaa. The light spewing from the cross started to burn her flesh, making her scream in anguish.

  “EDDIE!” she wailed.

  Guzman looked on in horror as the older man swiped her hands away from her face with the cross. In one swift movement, Wilf buried his stake in her chest, falling on top of her with all his weight.

  “NOOOOOOO!” Eddie screamed as he saw his companion attacked. Jake and Doug pinned him in the corner as Karaa uttered her last scream. Her skin started blackening as Wilf pushed the stake deeper into her chest, the cross in his hand losing its glow.

  “Last chance Eddie. Where are they?” Jake said, poised to strike.

  “FUCK YOU!” he screamed as he lurched forward towards the two men. The cross had slowed his movements, but he was still quicker than most men. Jake was ready though. He levelled his stake at Eddie’s chest, tensing his legs, ready for impact. When it came, the force propelled Jake back through the doorway out onto the grass. Eddie’s fangs swooped down at his throat, only his forearm stopping the killing stroke. Jake cried out as the weight of the vampire on top of him began to tell. The wooden stake was buried deep in his chest, missing the black heart at its centre. Eddie was not losing strength as Jake had hoped. He was bearing down, spittle from his mouth landing on the young man’s cheeks. An impact from behind made Eddie curse with renewed fury. Wilf had straddled his back, driving his own stake into the vampire. The sharp wooden tip found its mark, puncturing Eddie’s heart. Jake looked into his yellow eyes as they opened wide in horror and pain. They locked eyes, for what seemed like minutes as the older man began hammering the stake further in with the butt of his cross. The light went out of Guzman’s eyes as he slumped sideways into the grass. He looked up at the cloudy sky as he faded away. His last thoughts of a young man, dancing in a packed club with a beautiful dark-skinned woman. She smiled at him. Her face vibrant and full of life. “Maria,” he whispered, remembering the name of the young woman who he’d known back in Puerto Rico in the spring of 1951. He smiled serenely as his life force ebbed away. Sliding into the void.

  “Son. Are you alright?” Doug said as he dropped to his knees next to Jake.

  “I’m okay, Dad.” He looked over at Wilf, who was sat in the long grass, lighting his pipe. “Thanks Wilf. You saved my life.”

  “Think nothing of it Jake. You’ve saved mine before. I’m just glad we’re still breathing, and they are not.”

  Jake looked at Guzman’s body as it started to decay, melting into the long grass. “Shame. Just think. He was born over eighty years ago, in another world. He did not choose this life. It was chosen for him. He only did what his instincts told him to do. His family probably grieved his disappearance for years after he’d vanished. And now, he lies dead in a field, in another world.”

  “Better him than us Son,” Doug said as he sat down heavily next to Jake. He reached over, grasping his hand. “I thought you’d had it when I saw him knock you flying.”

  “Me too. I would have done if it wasn’t for Wilf. I missed with my stake. I’m lucky to be alive.”

  “What’s the plan now?” Wilf said as he finally got his pipe to catch. He puffed contentedly in the darkness as Jake thought about the question.

  “We either stay here for a few hours, or head through that gorge.” The two other men looked towards Monks Passage, weighing up the options.

  “I say we carry on,” Doug said. We’re all full of adrenalin. Better to walk that off than sit on our arses in the darkness.

  “I agree,” said Wilf. Let’s keep going while we can. Who knows how far ahead of us they are. Or what other traps are waiting for us.”

  “Okay. Let’s grab our packs and carry on. I think we’ve earned a beer though. What say you Wilf?”

  “Aye,” said the older man, standing with the vigour of a teenager. His lips already moist with anticipation.

  Thirty-Seven

  Tamatan woke with a start as the boat lurched on a wave. “What is happening?” he said to no one in particular.

  “Sea’s picking up,” said Sica. “The wind is coming from our shores. If this keeps up we will be at Mantz far quicker. You want some breakfast?”

  “What is on the menu this morning, my friend?”

  “The same as yesterday. You’ll find what you need in the galley.” Tamatan looked up, spotting Sica smiling down at him from his position at the rear of the boat. He was steering the tiller with one hand, whilst eating a flatbread filled with yellow whale flesh. Next to him say a clay jug, of what Tamatan guessed was cyder. He suddenly felt hungry. After relieving himself over the side of the boat, he headed rear, towards the small galley that hugged the right side of the vessel. The sea was indeed choppy, making his navigation from front to aft more difficult. He almost lost his footing before grabbing hold of one of the masts, steadying himself for a few seconds before reaching the galley. Large seagulls followed the boats swift progress across the sea, enticed by the pungent aroma that rose into the sky. Sica had already prepared two flatbreads, filled with juicy whale flesh. A clay jug sat next to the food, held in place by a small net that was fixed to the wood. He took his breakfast, noticing a large grey and white bird eyeing his food from the side of the boat. He shooed it away with his boot and sat down next to Sica, his red eyes muted as the sun threatened to break through the fog.