The School of the Undead

by Michael Woods

  It was here that Amanda pulled up in her little Clio and, after rummaging around in her boot to find her anorak, started her journey to the centre of Caldborough to find Brenden. The sheets of soft rain that Amanda had to walk through to get to the town made the short walk seem all the longer and only contributed further to a frustration that was building up inside her as she pondered over why the deputy had not just sent someone, even if it was just another student, into the town to look for the boy in her stead. When she reached the shops that had once been the commercial heart of the little town - the main elements of which were now situated in a shopping centre near the exit to the closest dual carriageway - she finally decided she had had enough. She stationed herself under a grand Victorian glazed canopy that hung over the frontage of a pound shop and then called the deputy once more to find out what, if anything, had happened in the search for Brenden while she had been on her way to Caldborough. She also called in the hope that as her mood was starting to turn foul, she would have the courage to tell the deputy what she thought of his plan for her to trek halfway across the country to do something the man could have done himself in half an hour.

  After getting through to the deputy’s answering machine and leaving a rather curt message for him to get back to her as soon as he could, Amanda made her way along the broken pavements of the main high street while keeping an eye out for the boy. Just as she was losing the last shred of interest she had in her task, she felt her phone vibrating in her pocket.

  “Hi, Mr Chester. I’ve just arrived in Caldborough and I wanted to call to check in to see if anything has happened since last time.”

  “Ah, Amanda. No, there’s nothing new.”

  Despite what she had desired to do, Amanda held back and refrained from informing the deputy about how annoyed she was with being in Caldborough. Instead, she adopted a different tact, one she hoped could at least help her through the job at hand.

  “Well, okay. Is there anything else then, any leads that you think I should follow? I mean, I don’t even really know the town. Do you think there is somewhere here that he might have gone?”

  “Amanda, I’d really like to help you, but we really have nothing. And about the town, well, I’ve never been there myself so it would be difficult for me to say.”

  In frustration, Amanda let the hand holding her phone fall to her side for a second.

  “Well what am I doing here then?” she said in frustration after bringing the phone back up.

  “Look, I know it all might seem a little odd for me to ask you to carry out the search, and to get you to drive all the way up here, but there’s good reason for it. You see, I don’t want to send any of the students into town: I just don’t know what sort of relationship they might have with the boy, and it’s not as if the pool of those who can re-enter the world of the living is particularly large.”

  “But what about the teachers?”

  “The teachers are even worse! Yes, a few of them could pass for a normal person out there for a while, but not for long. They’re just not in touch with that world anymore, most have not really even been out there for decades. Goodness knows what would happen if one of them had to try and communicate with one of the locals to try and find out about the boy.” The deputy paused for a moment and Amanda thought she heard the sound of a door closing. “Amanda,” continued the man in a whisper, “of course I have the best interests of the boy in mind, but I also have to think about the school. If it were the case that those in the town, whose recent expansion has been a real cause for concern to me, came to know in any way about what the school is, it would be a catastrophe.

  “In fact, I cannot emphasise this enough! While you are there, you must use all caution necessary to ensure that no one comes to suspect a thing. The ravings of a boy are one thing - nobody will believe him – but if that boy’s comments were backed up by something, such as the boy acting on his hunger or by something involving yourself, then who knows what could happen.”

  “You don’t need to worry about me, Mr Chester. But I’m not responsible for the boy. If you want to find him sooner, I would still suggest that you get someone else out here.”

  “Ms Blake, whatever gave you the idea that you are alone?”

  “But you just said that the teachers and students…”

  “Yes, I have not sent out any of the staff or student body to look for the boy, but you see, you are not the only former student on the school’s supplies. No indeed. If it makes you feel any better, I will tell you that there are two others looking for the boy. They are all I could spare, and I thought that if you also joined in the search, things would move along at a reasonable pace.”

  “But, if there are others, does it not make sense for me to know who they are, to coordinate with them so we don’t just end up searching the same places or getting in each other’s way?”

  “Perhaps later. But for now Ms Blake, I think it would be best for you to just get on with the search. I’m sorry if I have not been able to give you all the answers you want, but I’m afraid that this is where we are. I’m putting a lot of faith in you to get this done, Amanda. Don’t let me down.”

  The deputy cut off the conversation without giving Amanda a moment to ask anything further about the others searching in the town. It was clear to her that the deputy was being evasive about something, but she was not sure what it was. Perhaps it was the case that there was no one else looking for the boy at all and the old vampire had just lied to placate her; perhaps it was something else, maybe the deputy had sent others out, but individuals the man did not wish the teachers from the school to see. What rot, she thought, and after shoving her phone back into the pocket of her jeans and reopening her polka dot umbrella, she started to make her way over to a police station she had spotted during the call.

  After wandering through the building’s automatic double doors, Amanda quickly looked around for any sign of Brenden. She looked over at a young woman in uniform who she assumed must have been an enquiry officer for the station. At once, it became apparent to her that she was in the wrong place; she had no picture of the boy, no information on his relatives or anything apart from the vague description she would be able to supply to suggest that she had any connection to Brenden. More than that, she in no way wanted to explain why she was looking for the boy or where he had run away from.

  Suddenly it occurred to her how awkward she felt being in a police station, a place she had never even been in while she was alive. Its otherness highlighted the distance that now existed between her and the living by bringing to her attention the fact that the institutions and rules that were once supposed to protect her were more likely to be directed against her if her true nature were to become known. The woman officer behind the counter looked up and inspected Amanda, who was still standing just in front of the entrance, staring into space. With her sense of alienation heavy upon her, Amanda had to force herself to snap out of her thoughts after catching sight of the officer, who was now clearly more than a little suspicious of the vampire. Amanda forced a smile to form on her lips and then backed out of the station. For a moment on the pavement outside, she gave in to the sense of loss she had discovered at being so dislocated from the living, before castigating herself for being so foolish as to wander into a police station.

  Perhaps the deputy had been right to warn her to be cautious, she thought. Perhaps there was a chance that she could end up saying or doing something that could lead someone from the town back to the school. She glanced around just a little too quickly to see if anyone was looking at her, only to then realise how suspicious she was being: she needed to get a grip. Seeing the living as another form of being, one that could be truly dangerous, was one of the reasons that led many down into the Tunnels, somewhere Amanda was sure she did not want to go. So, she pushed away any further thought on the matter and, after opening up her umbrella once again, focused instead on what would be her next destination.

  ***

  Mary threw
on her sky blue, silk dressing gown over the nighty she was wearing and muttered to herself under her breath about having to deal with the annoyance of someone knocking on her front door. She fully expected the culprit to be the pesky blonde girl who had disturbed her a couple of days before, so after she opened up the door, she was more than a little taken aback to find the handsome figure and smiling brown eyes of Samuel Packard staring at her.

  “Ah, Mrs O’Hare. So good to see you,” said Packard before making his way past the slightly stunned figure of Mary and wandering into her front room.

  When Mary finally plucked up the courage to follow Packard into what she thought of as the visitors’ room, she found him sitting in the murky light, the heavy beige curtains still being drawn, on a brown armchair that made up the smallest part of the room’s three-piece suite. She cautiously positioned herself on the edge of one of the couch seats that was furthest away from her unexpected visitor and lit a cigarette.

  “Mrs O’Hare, that’s a filthy habit! But I can’t say it will be the death of you, I suppose.”

  Mary glanced up for a moment to look into the face of Packard and then stubbed out her cigarette in the yellowing plastic ashtray that was resting on the arm of the couch.

  “It’s so nice to see you again, Mary. What’s it been, five or so months since I saw you last?”

  Mary made a whimper of a reply and nervously rubbed at the nicotine stains on the index and middle fingers of her right hand. Packard watched her intently, waiting for the woman to finally get over the dismal lack of will and character he believed her to possess to build up sufficient nerve to speak.

  “What do you want? Look, I’ve got things to do,” she managed finally, in a shrill and quavering voice.

  “Why, Mary, I hope I’m not imposing. I wouldn’t want to disturb you, or anyone else, here in your own home. I’m only here as I’m concerned. A couple of things have cropped up in our little town and if they are not attended to with the right approach, I dare say we will all come to regret it.”

  “The girl,” replied Mary as a matter of fact.

  “Ah, so she’s already paid you a visit?”

  “She came here the other day asking all sorts of silly questions. And in that outfit she was wearing. I had to get rid of her as quickly as I could. Who knows what the neighbours would think!”

  “Quite,” said Packard while languidly brushing fragments of ash off of his tweed jacket after discovering Mary’s armchair was not so clean as he would like. “Well, you’ll agree with me then when I say I think it’s troubling that the school has sent this girl to poke her nose in our business. I for one know I have done nothing to bring the school’s attention here to Radcliff, so I don’t see why they should come and bother me. And it’s all because whoever was involved in that nasty, messy and all too disturbing affair with that boy has no sense. Why, for instance, if they were so desperate for blood did they not come to me? I have enough to share with those who would share with me: everyone knows that in this town. This surely means that if the culprit was someone from Radcliff, they must have not really known what they were doing.”

  “It must have been someone from out of town, I’m sure of it,” added Mary.

  “Ah, do you know something? That would be excellent, then we can inform the girl.”

  “Well, no, it’s not that,” said Mary, backtracking. “It’s just, as you said, they could have come to you. And anyway, who else could it have been but someone from outside?”

  “Who else indeed.”

  Mary squirmed around in her seat for a moment and then did her best to change the subject.

  “You said you came here to talk about that blonde girl.”

  “That was one of my reasons, yes.”

  “Well, what about her, then?”.

  “Well,” replied Packard, calmly. “You see, as much as I abhor the idea of the school sending someone down here to interfere in our affairs, the fact of the matter is the girl is here, and from what I’ve seen, she seems to be quite keen to find out what happened. My only interest now is to get the school’s beak out of Radcliff, not that the girl will bother us for a little while.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “A little bird told me she’s gone for the moment; something more pressing to do up near the school.”

  “Well, there you go then, maybe she’s already finished and she won’t come back.”

  “No, she’ll return, I’m sure of it. She’s still not even been to visit old Caroline. What’s more, I could see in her eyes that she was eager to discover the truth about the boy’s attack. Who knows what will happen when she gets back, she’ll probably start poking around once again and give us all a headache.”

  Packard watched as a momentary expression of concern flashed across the woman’s face; he had to suppress a smile. To prevent Mary noticing this, he took a moment to take in the unpleasant sight of the nicotine stained bamboo patterned wallpaper that hung in the room. What a horrible place to live, he thought.

  “Then what do you suppose we should do?”

  “Ah, I’m glad you asked me, I knew I could count on you. It’s my opinion that if our girl needs to find something to satisfy her desire for answers, then we should give her a little help. As you suggested before, it wasn’t me or you; we all know that Jacob’s, I mean Johann’s, odd ways exclude him from the picture, and I highly doubt it was old Caroline. So, as we know this, why not just push things along a little and enable the girl get over her problem, and in the process help ourselves to restore our privacy. I suggest we need to provide her with the opportunities to come to recognise that a shadow walker passed through and committed the crime.”

  “But how?”

  “Don’t worry about that just yet, I’ll be in touch. All I want to know now is whether I can count on your assistance in all this.”

  “Well, as you say, if it’s just helping the girl to see what’s right, I see no harm.”

  “My thoughts exactly. So what do you say?”

  “I’ll see. I mean, it depends on what it is.”

  “Of course, I understand,” said Packard before getting up from the armchair. He then removed an envelope from the inside of his jacket and placed it on the mantelpiece. “Don’t open this just yet, maybe wait until I’ve gone. It’s just a little thing for you to do to start things off; you’ll see that it’s nothing really. I’ll get back to you with the rest of the plan as soon as I can, that is if you want me to. You don’t have to make up your mind just yet. But I would ask if you would be discreet. I’ve not told anyone else that I even have an idea of a plan, not that there’s really many to tell. Nevertheless, thought it would be best just to keep it between you and me.”

  Mary rubbed the nicotine stains on her fingers once more and - after staring at a point somewhere in the middle of the brown carpet between her feet – replied with a bursts of nods to show that she would keep the plan a secret. With his task complete, Packard excused himself by telling Mary he had some business still to do that day. She followed him to the end of the driveway, still in her dressing gown and slippers, and watched as he disappeared behind the overgrown hedge that hid the turn from Balfour Lane onto Lloyd George Avenue. Following a habit she had developed over more than thirty years, she drew a cigarette from the pack she had in her pocket and - with as much care as she could to pretend she was doing otherwise - scanned the windows of the semi-detached homes of her neighbours to see if anyone was watching.

  ***

  With her hands curled around her warming white coffee mug, Amanda watched the people of Caldborough pass by the Caffé Nero she had found herself in after more than an hour of useless searching in the rain. Of course, as soon as she had settled in for a break, the drizzling had stopped. But that did not matter to her now. She sipped gently at the still hot Caffé Mocha, the smell of it bringing back memories of her Saturday meetings with the sister she had not seen in years. Behind her, an old married couple were slowly eating chocolate fudge cake a
s well as talking about an episode of ‘Gardeners’ World’ they had watched the night before and how well Monty Don had done since his recovery; a young woman with a stroller was concentrating hard on one level of Candy Crush that she seemed to have been playing since Amanda entered the café; and the two young baristas behind the dark wood panelled bar were engaged in a disjointed conversation that was mainly held together with hormones and flirtation. She listened to the gentle noises of the café and enjoyed for a time the sense that despite what had been done to her, she could still just be another person idling her time away with a coffee.

  And then, as she turned her attention to the people passing by outside, she saw him. Out on the street, in the ill-fitting clothes and with the bag that the school had provided him, was Brenden. She jumped out of her seat - something which drew the attention of everyone else in the café away from what they had been doing before - and ran out the door as quickly as she could so as not to lose sight of the boy.

  Just as she reached the grey damp stones of the pedestrianised street outside, Amanda saw the back of Brenden’s rucksack disappear into a WH Smith’s. She dashed over to the store and, as she was paying little real attention as to what was in the way of her goal, she almost slammed into a twentysomething man in a baseball cap who was coming the other way. She hissed an apology after the man cried out “look where you’re going, love,” but she had no time to turn back; who knew if there was another exit to the shop, who knew if another child had the same bag. After this latter thought came to her mind, and just before she entered the shop, she quickly scanned the people milling around on the street to see if she could see anyone else who might resemble the boy. With no obvious alternative candidates for Brenden in sight, she made her way in.