by Philip Henry
“One of our Spanish agents found the number that you had been dialling. It’s an empty flat with nothing but a phone and some kind of relay station that Lucinda must have made herself, it re-routes the call to Hernandez. She was smart. Even your phone bill will display calls to Spain, though you were really making a local call.”
Everything went silent again. Then Sin jumped as something was smashed below her. Her mother was crying. “Stupid, selfish child!” She cried harder. When her crying slowed she managed to sputter out the words, “And now you’re going to find her and kill her, aren’t you?”
“I’m sorry, Mrs Sheridan. She brought it on herself. She killed a very good friend of mine last night and I will not let that go unpunished.” Sin could hear the anger in Nicholl’s voice. “I thought I should warn you that if she does contact you, don’t trust her. She’s not really your daughter anymore, not in any way that matters.”
“Do you think she’ll come here?”
“No, I doubt it. I think they’ll probably try to get out of the country as soon as possible. We’ve got every agent available covering every possible escape route. Do you want us to let you know if…?”
Mrs Sheridan made herself stop crying and said, “No. I’d appreciate it if I didn’t hear from any of you ever again. I’m not blaming you. I just think I’ll let my husband keep believing that she died on holiday. He wouldn’t want to know this. It would kill him.” She broke down crying again.
Sin heard Nicholl close the door as she left. She was furious at Nicholl for putting her through that. Hearing her mum’s disappointment and grief made Sin want to rip Nicholl limb from limb. The holiday story was supposed to have saved them this visit. Why couldn’t Nicholl just shut up and play along? And what about her mum calling her a selfish child? It was really annoying how parents used some childhood experience to define who the grown-up was. Sin considered going down and explaining to her mother why she had done it. She didn’t want to die. She had barely lived. She had so much more she wanted to do and see. Her mother wouldn’t understand. She knew that as she let the thought be swallowed by the rage inside her. If her mum wanted to take the Ministry’s side that was fine. When the sun went down Sin would leave and her mum would never have to be disappointed in her again.
“Is this your luggage?” Kaaliz said from the other end of the attic. He was looking at the bags and cases that had been stacked carefully and had Sin’s scent on them. “Did you think this was going to be a holiday?”
“That’s my laptop computer, some money and some clothes,” she said, still irritated by Nicholl’s visit.
“Computer? Are you going to be a vampire that plays Space Invaders all night long?”
“Jesus, Kaaliz, drag your ass into the twenty-first century. With that computer I can find out just about anything about anyone and gain access to just about anywhere.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really,” Sin smiled. “Why, what do you have in mind?”
“Revenge.”
The night was calm and Ministry HQ was quiet. Agents had been taken off other assignments and sent to every crossing point where the vampires could leave the country. Sin drove the stolen van up to the front gates and the security guard stepped out of his booth with a clipboard in his hand and looked at the number-plate. He scanned down his list of authorized vehicles. Kaaliz landed behind him and broke his neck then stepped into the security booth and pressed the button that opened the new, reinforced gate. Sin reversed the van right up to the front doors. She jumped from the van and walked into the lobby. There were three soldiers chatting to a pretty woman from the Filing department. Sin walked in the door and their looks of subtle flirting turned to terror. Sin pulled a gun and put one bullet in each of their heads before any of the soldiers had time to react. The pretty woman opened her mouth to plead and got a bullet as an answer. Sin grabbed the nearest soldier and dragged him to the lifts.
Kaaliz walked in behind her, “Why did we need to use guns?”
“I couldn’t risk any of them setting off the alarm. That would spoil all our fun. Besides they looked so tempting in the army storage facility – I just had to have one!” She held the gun out like a piece of jewellery to Kaaliz and batted her eyelashes playfully.
“OK, call the lift, I’ll start unloading.” Kaaliz said.
When the first lift arrived, Sin dropped the soldier half in, half out of the car. The doors tried to close but reopened when they encountered the body. The other lift arrived. Sin held the doors open as Kaaliz quickly loaded the six canisters of napalm into the lift. The two vampires stepped into the lift and the doors closed. Sin slapped a fresh clip into her Beretta and Kaaliz took out his Magnum and cocked it.
Kaaliz turned, looking concerned. “When we start this party, won’t they lock down the lifts like last time?”
Sin shook her head. “Different procedure for a bomb threat: they have to keep the lifts running to allow people the chance to evacuate.”
The lift trundled slowly to the bottom and opened at Level Six. Forensics and Analysis experts were going over every detail in the room. They turned and saw Kaaliz unloading a large canister from the lift. Sin shot two of them just so the rest of them would scurry into hiding. The doors closed and they went up to five and repeated the manoeuvre. When they got to Level Two the word was out and the trainee hunters had armed themselves. The lift doors opened and they were met by a hail of gunfire and crossbow bolts. The vampires slammed themselves to the sides of the lift. Both of them had been shot but it wasn’t bothering them. Sin was actually more excited after being shot because now, being shot didn’t mean dying. She stepped out again and another bullet caught her in the arm. She stepped back and laughed. Kaaliz looked over at her and couldn’t help but smile. Her enjoyment was infectious.
“I wonder if they know they’re shooting at napalm? One stray bullet and BOOM!” Sin said, laughing. Kaaliz laughed and kicked the napalm canister out. As the doors closed they used the extra cover to shoot a few more of the students.
Level One was an easy drop off as all the admin staff had found somewhere far from the lift doors to hide. As the doors closed Sin regretted not shooting anyone on this floor. Kaaliz and Sin walked out of the lift and Sin put a small bin between the doors. The lift doors were closing on the bin and reopening as the pair exited the lobby doors and walked to the van. Sin drove them down to the front gate where they stopped and got out.
On Level Four of the Ministry, the Weapons Development team were crowded around the canister. It was clear plastic and they could see the detonator floating in the liquid with a trip wire leading to the lid. They couldn’t disarm it because they couldn’t get to it. The head of department walked away from the canister while the others shouted panicked suggestions that would never work. One technician was crying and slamming his palm into the button to call the lift. The head of the department sat down in his leather chair and lit a cigarette. He closed his eyes and waited.
Kaaliz and Sin sat on top of the van looking at the Ministry. Sin was watching as she regenerated and her flesh pushed the bullets from her body. She had never felt so powerful. Kaaliz sat down beside her. Sin held a radio detonator and Kaaliz was uncorking a bottle of champagne. She had a momentary pang of her conscience that was quickly gone. It was logical: kill or be killed. This was her life now, but she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t enjoying it too. As the cork popped off into the air Sin activated the detonator and the earth shook beneath them. A huge orange mushroom of flame erupted from the ground and annihilated all traces of the small building that sat atop the Ministry. Kaaliz and Sin laughed and toasted as the flames lit up the darkness. Each took a long swig from the bottle of champagne. After the initial explosion, the ground where the Ministry had been began to collapse in on itself. Plumes of smoke and dust rose into the night sky and replaced the fiery glow. The moon was eclipsed by the destruction below.
“You sure know how to throw a party,” Kaaliz said.
&nbs
p; “We aim to please.”
“OK, now for part two of the plan – do you know where the nearest Irish pub is? I think I’d like to buy you a drink.”
When they staggered out of Murphy’s Inn later that night they had made two new friends. Bert and Betsy were over visiting grandchildren but actually lived just a few miles from Coleraine. Kaaliz had noticed that their accent was very similar to his own and used it to introduce himself and his fiancée. Bert had spent a good part of the night staring at Sin’s chest and adjusting his trousers accordingly. Betsy was full of advice for Sin on how to make a marriage last. The two couples had got on famously so it was no surprise that when last orders came Bert had offered to drive them home (even though he’d been knocking back Guinness with whiskey chasers all night).
Bert was driving and Sin sat in the passenger seat. Kaaliz sat in the back and tried to discreetly discourage the wandering hands of Betsy.
Bert cleared his throat, “Listen, I don’t know if you’re interested in this sort of thing, but Betsy and I are swingers and we’d sure like to take you two back to the king-size bed in our hotel and have a tag-team match.”
Sin laughed out loud. “Do you think you could handle me, Bert? I don’t want to give you a coronary or anything.”
“Oh, don’t you worry about that,” Bert said, giving Sin’s thigh a reassuring squeeze. “Viagra has given me a whole new lease of life. I’ll go all night and you’ll love every minute of it. And Cal, I know she doesn’t look it but Betsy’s a real firecracker between the sheets.”
Betsy nodded suggestively at Kaaliz. Sin was bent over in the front seat giggling. She couldn’t get over the fact that these two pensioners were propositioning her and Kaaliz.
“Traffic lights,” Kaaliz said from the back seat. Bert slowed and stopped at the red light. Sin was still in fits of laughter. Kaaliz repeated through gritted teeth, “Traffic lights, darling. Traffic lights.” Sin finally calmed herself and looked up and checked left and right for traffic. A lorry was coming quickly from the left, trying to beat the light.
Bert turned to Sin. “Well, what’s it gonna be, sweetheart. You in?”
Sin stretched her leg across and rubbed Bert’s groin with her bare foot, then she slid her big toe down the inside of his leg to his ankle. “I’m afraid not, Bert.” Sin slipped the car into gear and pushed the accelerator.
The lorry’s air-brakes squealed but it was going too fast to stop. The lorry slammed into the side of Bert’s car and dragged it halfway down the street spewing sparks all the way until it stopped. The lorry driver was dazed but unhurt. He got out of the cab and went down to the car that was partially crushed under his lorry. He looked inside and could see the interior clearly. There was an elderly woman dead in the back and an old man in the driver’s seat with half his face missing. The lorry driver could smell the alcohol from five feet away. He shook his head, took his phone from his pocket and called the emergency services.
the vampire strikes back
“Jay-sus, what a terrible waste,” Bert’s brother declared. “And sure he just booked a foreign holiday and everything. I don’t even know if they’re refundable tickets.” The small room in Bert and Betsy’s cottage was host to about a dozen people. They were all wearing suits and everyone had a drink. The two coffins sat in the middle of the room like awkward guests that were refusing to mingle. “So if you’ll all raise your glasses,” Bert’s brother continued. “We can all say a final farewell to Bert and Betsy.” Everyone repeated “Bert and Betsy” and then took a drink.
“Here, are you not having an open coffin?” Aunt Bea asked suspiciously.
Bert’s brother shifted uneasily. “I don’t know what shape they’re in, Bea. Cousin Willis arranged everything across the water. He bought the coffins, picked what clothes to bury them in, I don’t know if they were prepared for an open coffin.”
“Willis,” Bea said with distaste. “He made a fortune in chewing gum and likes to throw his money around. You can be sure that he did everything that would cost the most, just to show off.”
“I suppose he probably did.”
“Of course he did,” Bea snapped. “Now are you going to open them so I can have a look at them before I go? I want to be home in time for Coronation Street and The Bill.”
Bert’s brother nodded and put down his drink on the sideboard. “OK, everyone, we’re going to have the viewing now.” Bert’s brother knew the drill at Irish wakes: everyone wanted a look and would say something in the vein of “Oh, don’t they look well” or “They’ve never looked better.” Everyone crowded round as Bert’s brother opened the first coffin. The lid was surprisingly easy to move. Everyone leaned in and saw a beautiful young girl with red hair.
Bea (who was half blind anyway) was the only one to speak. “Oh, she’s never looked better.”
Bert’s brother looked at the other confused mourners. Sin sat up quickly and bit his neck as he was about to speak. Everyone screamed and scrambled for the door. Kaaliz kicked the lid off the other coffin and pounced. The mourners were elderly and he had no trouble stopping them from escaping. Several dropped to the floor clutching their chests. Kaaliz and Sin drank from all of them who were still breathing and left the living room with bodies and blood scattered everywhere. Sin took her bag from her coffin – Kaaliz still found it funny that she carried these things around with her but he couldn’t deny that she could work magic with her computer. The vampires walked outside and Kaaliz breathed in the country air.
“It’s good to be home,” he said.
Claire stood impatiently in the kitchen. She was wearing a sexy, black evening dress, black stockings, and had been in the beautician’s all day getting her hair, make-up and nails done. She picked up the phone and tried him again.
The babysitter walked into the kitchen. “Still can’t get him?”
Claire hung up. “No, it keeps going onto his answering service. Gillian, do you think you could stay over tonight? The later we leave the later we’re going to be back and I don’t want to wake your mum and dad…”
“Don’t worry about it, Mrs Ford, I’ll stay, it’s fine. I was planning on going shopping tomorrow anyway. I saw a pair of boots in town with my name on them. And, Halloween is on later tonight.”
“Thanks, Gillian. Isn’t Halloween the one with the babysitter?”
“Yep, that’s it. It shows what a dangerous profession babysitting can be,” Gillian said gleefully.
“Well, don’t let Tom watch it.”
“Don’t worry, every time I’ve seen it the babysitter always gets away alive.”
“All the same, I’d prefer him not to see anything too scary at his age.”
“Whatever you say, Mrs Ford.”
“Now all we need is that husband of mine to put in an appearance. Where is Tom?”
“He’s fine; he’s watching a DVD. Do you mind if I call my mum to tell her not to wait up?”
“No, go ahead.” Claire walked out of the kitchen as Gillian lifted the phone. She walked into the living room and watched Tom, parked on the floor like a little Buddha staring at the TV. He looked a lot like Xavier now. She wondered what Xavier had looked like when he was nine.
Their house was modest because they thought it was best not to draw attention to themselves. When Xavier had sold all the junk he had collected over the years they had been millionaires. Just barely, but still millionaires. Instead of buying a huge mansion and getting on the cocktail party circuit, they had chosen a small three-bedroom bungalow by the sea in Portstewart. Claire had spent years decorating it to her taste and now it was perfect. When neighbours asked what Xavier did for a living she told them he was a foreign property developer. None of the people that lived near, or that they socialised with, had the money to invest abroad so their lies never had to stand up to scrutiny.
Claire called Tom her little miracle and nobody who heard her say it could possibly realise just how true the statement was. Even after extensive research by Xavier they could
find no records of anyone like them: anyone who was vampire, became human and had a human child. Maybe there were others it had happened to and none of them wanted to be known, but Claire preferred to believe that Tom was unique. He certainly was in his parents’ eyes. Where the hell was his father? You would think after one-hundred and sixteen years that even the most forgetful man would remember his anniversary.
Xavier had been restless when they had first tried to settle into a normal human life. He didn’t know what to do with himself and had tried everything that gentlemen of leisure are supposed to enjoy: golf, fishing, model building, painting, photography, amateur dramatics and singing in a band. None of these things really pushed his button and he usually gave up when it became boring. Then he had struck upon a great idea: write his memoirs. He took some classes and tried several times to start but all of his opening chapters ended up as kindling. Still, he liked the idea of his twelve decades of experiences being written down, so that some day in the future (far in the future) he would tell Tom how he had come to be and Tom could read in detail who his parents were. So he had enlisted someone to ghostwrite it. The writer lived nearby in Coleraine and wrote horror stories. Xavier and he struck a deal that Xavier would tell the stories and the writer would write them (as fiction) and they would split the profits. The arrangement had worked and the first volume was already on sale. The only problem, that Claire could see, was that Xavier lost all track of time when he started telling his life stories. That was why he was late. That was why she was standing here ready to go and he would still have to get dressed when he did show up.
Claire had no such problems adjusting to mortal life. She had everything she wanted just being a wife and mother. It was the domestic life she had dreamed of for many decades. She saw her own mother as a template for a happy, normal life. Though times were hard in the nineteenth century she had never doubted that her mother was happy cooking, cleaning and washing. Claire and Xavier had the money to hire someone to do all these chores but Claire enjoyed them. Xavier had said the novelty would wear off but even after Tom was born and she was coping with all the usual household tasks and a crying baby, nappies and tiredness, she had never wanted anyone else to help (except Xavier on occasion). She felt this was what it was to be a wife, a mother, and a woman. Not that she spent all her time with the daily grind of domestic labour, but her hobbies were simple ones. She went for long walks on the beach and became friends with the mothers of Tom’s school-friends and went shopping and socialised with them. Claire liked having friends. She liked this life. Her days as a vampire seemed like a bad memory, best repressed.
