by Simon Clark
'It's understandable,' Elmo said, 'but it's not wise. If she'd woken she might have struck.'
'So why do you believe she's waking up?' Ben pressed the question.
'Earlier, she was like a block of ice. Now her skin's hot.'
Elmo touched her hand with his fingertip. 'Her face is flushed, too. We shouldn't delay moving her to the boat.'
This time carrying April on the sleeping bag went smoothly. The lift was waiting on their floor. Rita, the neighbour, didn't show her face. It was only when the three lifted the unconscious April from the lift into the basement garage that they realized their world was changing.
TWENTY-NINE
'Is it my imagination,' Trajan said as they gripped the corners of the sleeping bag and carried April toward the car, 'or is there something wrong with the lights?'
A gloom crept into the basement with its low concrete ceiling and smells of fuel and exhaust fumes. In the shadows, the pipes that emerged from the floor to run up the walls into the guts of the apartment block assumed the menacing aspect of serpents that possessed the girth of tree trunks. Elmo glanced up at the strip lights; instead of a brilliant white they were now yellow.
As an intense quiet crept into the vault Elmo broke the silence. 'The vampire isn't Edshu's only weapon. Anything that makes humanity weaker he will exploit. I can warn you, gentlemen: expect trickery.'
The lights dimmed from yellow to orange. There were no windows down here and the only other light was a bloody glow from the sun that oozed down the vehicle ramp. They gently set April down on her makeshift stretcher.
'Remember what I told you.' Elmo rubbed the strained muscles of his forearm. 'It is Edshu's mission to test humanity to breaking point. Rest assured that he is watching you, just as my ancestors and the gods of my village watch.'
Ben clicked his tongue in exasperation. 'But why are your gods and ancestral spirits interested in what is happening here?'
'Ben Ashton, I thought you were the one of the few who understood what I was trying to do when I kept my vigil in the boat. You understood my message; now you express utter ignorance.' The man's eyes flashed with anger. 'Our bodies live in the physical world. Our minds live in a Sea of Thought. All our gods and all our ancestors inhabit that universal ocean. And when your body dies your mind will continue to reside in the Sea of Thought. If you, Ben, care about what happens to your fellow countrymen here in this city, do you also care whether a man, woman or child is sick in Pakistan, China or Brazil? I know that you do. You are a compassionate man, Ben. But you are not unique in your compassion.
'My ancestors and my gods might not live in this world of concrete and metal and electricity but where they reside in the Sea of Thought they still care about the well-being of not just you; not just Trajan; not just the stranger in the car; not just April Connor - they care about the people of this city and this world. They don't want them to suffer misery, or feel the pain of a broken bone, or torn flesh.' He lunged forward to grip Ben by the jaw. The man's slender fingers were stronger than Ben could have imagined. He even heard the teeth in his gums creak under the pressure. Elmo's face came within inches of Ben's. 'Do not become the idiot now. Not after you've come so far. Don't you understand, both of you? The life of London and her people hang in the balance now. You have become its champions. By an accident of fate you are being tested. If you fail the test, then the city dies with you.' At that moment a throbbing noise started. Even though it was low the rhythm was quick; a suggestion of urgency. 'And if you don't believe me, leave these vampires lying here and go out into the city and walk its streets. Because I guarantee that by midnight you will see your capital city begin to die before your very eyes!' Elmo pushed Ben from him; his eyes radiating nothing less than fury.
The beating sound, almost like drumming, grew louder, more intrusive. At the same moment the overhead lights dimmed until they were the colour of rust.
Trajan tilted his head. 'The noise is coming from the pipes.'
Ben reached out to touch one of the outlets to the sewer below ground. It vibrated so much it made his skin tingle. 'You're right. But what the hell's doing it?'
Elmo nodded at the inert form of April on the sleeping bag at their feet. 'Her kind know what you're doing. They're making known their displeasure.' Even as he spoke the violent drumming intensified. It seemed as if entire legions below ground beat at the pipes. By now the lights had dimmed to mere spots of red light.
'You must hurry, gentlemen. These two will wake soon. When they do you've got to be ready.'
After Trajan unlocked the car they lifted April into the back and laid her down beside her companion. Both were still. But both were hot to the touch; their chests rose and fell as if they were deliberately hyperventilating before taking part in some act of incredible endurance. At the far side of the garage a manhole cover was set in the floor; a dark square of iron against pale concrete. The drumming sounded louder, then Ben saw why. The iron cover to the drain was slowly being raised. Beneath it, he glimpsed a pair of naked arms that were held outstretched as they pushed against the iron trap door.
'Faster, gentlemen.' Elmo stared at the manhole cover. 'They are here.'
Ben and Trajan covered the pair in the back with the blanket.
'Get inside, Mr Kigoma,' Trajan shouted.
Elmo Kigoma didn't move. His eyes were fixed on the manhole cover as a second pair of arms joined the first to push the metal panel upward.
'Elmo!' Ben shouted. 'Get in the car.' He held the door open for the man, but he wasn't coming.
Elmo's voice reached him above the frenzied pounding noise. 'I picture my ancestors. I imagine my grandfather leading them. He has copper bands around his neck. In one hand is a shield of zebra hide. In the other hand a spear. My grandfather is a warrior. He is not afraid. He has pledged to protect the innocent; he is our ally. He returns from the Sea of Thought to help us.'
Elmo's eyes were glassy as he watched four naked arms push the manhole cover open. In a moment it would topple back; then whatever was concealed underground could rush out at them.
Elmo continued. 'My grandfather is swift as a panther; he has copper bands around his neck. He carries a shield, and a spear that is a thunderbolt.'
By this time Ben had begun to gauge the possibility of physically dragging the man into the car. But as he stood by the vehicle he glanced across the garage at the opening trap door. Just for a moment, as Elmo intoned about seeing his warrior grandfather, Ben thought he saw a shadowy figure dart at the trap door. A moment later the manhole cover slammed shut. Whatever was in the pit below was sealed back inside. For now.
Just for a second the sound paused. There was a sense of stunned disbelief on the part of the unseen drummers, then the sound rushed back with a vengeance.
Elmo slid gracefully into the front passenger seat of the car. Trajan bounced down into the driver's seat; Ben climbed into the back. The rear seats had been laid flat to accommodate the corpse-like cargo, so he had to perch alongside them and simply hold the grab handle above the window as Trajan reversed out of the parking space.
Elmo Kigoma regarded the manhole cover that sealed the entrance to the sewer. 'In life my grandfather was a strong man. In my imagination he's stronger than ever.'
As the car surged toward the ramp that would take them to street level Ben said, 'I know what you did. You visualized that your grandfather came here. Then you pictured him pushing the manhole cover shut and stopping the vampires leaving the sewer.'
'See,' Elmo said with satisfaction. 'You are learning. If you continue to learn about the power of imagination then it might yet save our lives.'
The city streets were darkening now the sun had all but sunk out of sight. Trajan powered the car along the maze of roads. They were busy with traffic and pedestrians alike but now the rush-hour was over they were at least passable.
'You're right, Mr Kigoma,' Trajan said as he sped through a junction. 'The tricks have started. See the traffic lights?'
&nb
sp; Both the red and green lamps burned, throwing the traffic into chaos. Even from here they could see into the entrance of a tube station where the passenger barriers had spontaneously locked everyone out so crowds began to back out on to the streets to make the congestion even worse. Everywhere people were having trouble with their phones. Ben saw perplexed faces as they looked at the screens while they thumbed the keys.
Ben grunted. 'Tell me I'm wrong, but I think the ghost just got into the machine.'
With the sinking of the sun the dusk seemed to creep out of the ground. Most traffic lights appeared to be failing. Meanwhile, the police did what they could to keep vehicles flowing. The saving grace was the time of evening when the roads were at their quietest. As Trajan piloted the car round clumps of buses Ben asked, almost in jest, 'Elmo? Does it help if I imagine the streets are clear of cars?'
Elmo glanced back. 'Everything positive and life-affirming you can imagine helps.' Then he nodded at the two slumbering forms beneath the blanket that reminded Ben so much of corpses, imagine those two will continue to sleep. It wouldn't do if they woke up now.'
Ben shifted uncomfortably as the covered shoulder of the comatose vampire pressed against his hip. 'I'll do my best.'
Trajan steered round a mail van that had bumped against a truck where all the lights blazed green and drivers shouted curses at each other. 'Should I picture a successful outcome, too?'
'The more of us that do, the better.'
'But you're telling me Ben here's better at it than I am?' Trajan asked.
'We all have unique strengths,' Elmo told him. 'But the power of thought is a remarkable thing in all of us. In everything men and women make, we use our minds to generate an image of its appearance. What happens next is purely the labour to turn a dream into an object that we can reach out and touch.'
They cut down a side street. More people had trouble with the telephones. A man pounded his fist on to the screen of an ATM as the machine refused to return his card or deliver the cash. On another corner two women ripped at one another's hair after their cars had collided at a set of faulty traffic lights.
Ben said, it's more than the inconvenience of power failure and temperamental electronics; this is creating animosity. Strangers are falling out with one another.'
'And so the pressure of anger grows,' Elmo said.
'So this is Edshu's doing?'
Elmo nodded. 'First he divides the population; they fight one another before he launches the next onslaught. Now his vampires are out there, waiting. When the city is in disarray that will be the best time for them to attack.'
They drove into Chelsea with its expensive real estate. That wasn't immune either. Lights flickered in offices. An ATM pumped banknotes into the street. Water gushed from a grate to flood the road. Trajan resolutely ploughed through it. 'Not far now,' he told them.
Ben found it hard to take his eyes away from the two forms beneath the blanket. It may have been the motion of the car, but he thought he saw their limbs begin to twitch.
'More speed would be appreciated,' Ben said. 'I have a feeling they're starting to wake.' Outside the sky had become a deep blue. On the horizon smears of red marked the position of the sun's descent.
'Just another couple of minutes until we're there.' Trajan switched on the radio. After a couple of false starts when music surged through the speakers he hit one of the talk radio channels. A bemused male voice was announcing:
'… more news coming in. Forget using the Northern and Piccadilly lines as well. There's a power outage that might take hours to restore. We're also hearing problems with signals on the Docklands Light Railway. Elsewhere, escalators have slowed to a snail's pace at underground stations, while disruption to the capital's traffic lights have brought chaos to the streets. Even here in the station we're experiencing voltage surges that are blowing fuses all over the building. Stay with me, your friend in town, Lightning Ray Elmsall, keeping you abreast and up-to-date wherever…'
Trajan switched off the radio. Ahead, the main road had been blocked by a truck lying on its side. He cut off on to another route that ran beside the river. By now the Thames had turned the colour of lead, while here and there glints of copper shone on its surface.
Trajan let out a sigh that came from the depths of his soul as much as his lungs. 'There's our boat,' he told them. 'And the guy on the motorbike is here to deliver the keys.'
Trajan spoke to the motorcyclist who held the keys in his hand. For a moment Ben wondered if the man would ask awkward questions - why do you want the boat? What's that in the back of your car? However, he was simply a hired courier, requiring a signature on a clipboard before handing the keys over. Within seconds of delivering, the courier jumped on to his bike and roared away into the dusk.
Trajan loped back to the car. 'It's only a dozen yards to the gangplank,' he told them. 'There isn't an easier way, I'm afraid, so it's a case of carrying them on board.'
Ben was grateful to quit the car as a deep bleakness flooded the street. What's more, the stretch of road between a warehouse and the river was deserted. This time their job of moving the pair should be easier… as long as they didn't wake up.
THIRTY
Trajan had wealthy friends. Ben smelt the leather upholstery of the millionaire's launch as he helped carry the stranger on board. The craft was a sleek vision of luxury in ivory. It was more than eighty feet long and boasted a lounge upholstered in leather in that same soft shade of ivory. Some of the furnishings were still wrapped in plastic, while electrical goods stood in boxes on the floor waiting to be installed.
They carried the man on using the hammock arrangement with the sleeping bag. Trajan grunted. 'It's still being fitted out but I've been promised she's sailable.'
'And fast, I hope.' Ben helped set the stranger down on the richly carpeted floor of the salon lounge.
'Twin diesel motors; a top speed of thirty knots; she'll do the job.' Trajan rubbed his strained elbows. 'Ever sailed a motor yacht like this before?
'I've rowed a dinghy on a park lake, that's all.'
'You're going to learn fast. I need you to man the pilothouse and steer the boat as I cast off the lines.'
'You trust me enough not to wreck it?'
'I trust you with my life, Ben. Come on, once we have April and Mr Kigoma on board we need to move fast.'
But even as they headed out on to the deck Elmo Kigoma leapt on board, with April over his shoulder.
'Elmo, we can give you a…'
'Move!' Elmo shouted. 'They're here!'
Ben looked at the deserted street.
'No, not on shore,' Elmo called out. 'In the water! Trajan, you must get the boat moving or they'll swarm all over us.'
Ben tried to help the man carry the unconscious woman.
'No! I can manage. You help Trajan.'
Trajan raced to the pilothouse at rear of the boat. 'Ben, follow me. I'll start the motors and put her into forward at slow speed, then I'll untie the lines. As soon as she starts to move head to the centre of the river and keep the nose pointing downstream.'
'Trajan. This thing's a hell of a size. I don't know if I can-'
'You'll be fine. It's like steering a car. Just don't touch the throttle controls. As soon as we're free of the mooring I'll take over. Okay?'
In near darkness they ran to the stern deck where the pilothouse was located. By now the lights in the high-rise buildings should be blazing but they were in darkness. Was this Edshu's doing? Had the trickster god from Elmo's homeland killed the electricity supply? From across the water it seemed as if a hundred different sirens wailed as ambulances and police cars raced to a multitude of emergencies that the power failure had caused. Before entering the pilothouse Ben glanced over the railing into the river. The moment he did so the surface exploded into gouts of spray as shapes broke the surface. In that swirl of movement and water he saw threshing limbs. Faces broke the surface; they possessed blazing eyes that stared at him with a ravenous intensity.
Trajan had seen, too. 'Mr Kigoma was right. If we don't get away in the next twenty seconds they'll be on board!'
He rushed into the pilothouse. Meanwhile, Ben stood there, transfixed by that vortex created by the vampires as they writhed in the water. They appeared to be in a state that combined ecstasy and agony. He sensed their hunger. And he knew why they fixed him with their searing eyes.
'Ben! I need you now. Take the wheel!'
Ben snapped out of it. Engines hummed as the propellers chopped at the water. Although they'd be going nowhere until Trajan untied the mooring lines. Ben ran into the wheelhouse to be confronted with banks of monitors and electronic equipment.
'Ben, when she starts to move steer away from the bank. Keep midstream. I'll be right back.' The engines' purr sent vibrations through the boat's wheel. He felt the vessel tug at the lines as if it craved its release from dry land. Through the windows he could see Trajan in the gloom. The blond head bobbed as he ran to the prow to untie the lines there; seconds later he was back amidships to release a line. One remained at the stern.
Then they climbed the steps that ran up the harbour wall. Ben watched as a dozen men and women moved like panthers. Water dripped from their matted hair; their soaked clothes were torn; some only had a few strands of material hanging from their grey bodies. Again, he sensed that vampiric hunger. It drove them at ferocious speeds. And at that moment Ben had no doubt at all the creatures knew that two of their own kind were on board. Elmo Kigoma had warned Ben and Trajan that they would be the focus of the trickster god's attention now. From whatever lair these creatures spent the daylight hours they would be converging on the boat. Above the hum of motors he heard the thump of fists striking the hull. Meanwhile, the vampires that had scaled the steps began to lope toward the boat.
'Trajan!' Ben yelled. 'We've got company!' He glanced round the pilothouse for a weapon of some sort, but even the furniture was bolted to the floor. 'Hurry up!'
