“But,” said Amanda, who despite her exhausted state felt as if she had to share an idea that had been troubling her, “if it wasn’t someone from the Tunnels, where could the attacker have come from? You know, when Milch told me his story, it really made me wonder if there were any links to Brenden’s case. An attack out of nowhere in the same little town. Sure, there’s always the chance that it could have been one of the shadow walkers, or something else entirely, but I don’t know. It’s just that when Milch said about how he’d been left behind, just like Brenden, without any thought about the fact that the body would be discovered.”
“Could just be a coincidence, of course.”
“But, there’s something else that I’ve been asking myself about Brenden’s attack, something that could also associate it to Milch’s,” continued Amanda without listening to Adam. “Perhaps you can help me with this. Everyone knows that you’re one of the people with the most knowledge about the characteristics of the undead.”
“Go on,” replied Adam, happy to accept the compliment.
“The thing is, Brenden was attacked by someone who was not wearing any shoes. Brenden didn’t mention anything about the man looking particularly out of his luck. What I mean is, he said nothing about his clothes being shabby. In fact, Brenden even said the man reminded him a little of his own father because of his lack of shoes. It just made me wonder, how long would a vampire be affected by his hunger to the extent that he would happily wander around in a muddy field without thinking of his feet?”
“Is this not a question that a vampire such as yourself could answer?” said Adam with a chuckle.
“Strangely no. I don’t think I’ve ever really got to the point where I was wholly under the influence of the hunger.”
“This may come as a little surprise, then. The hunger comes in waves; during the troughs, a vampire will be able to control their actions to a fairly normal degree. At the times when the hunger is at its peak, poor creatures such as yourself will be unable to resist the desire to attack or track down the closest source of blood. What’s important to note here is that I say it is the desire to attack or to hunt. This is vital for understanding the nature of vampires. It is only during the height of the peaks, while truly tormented, that a vampire will lose almost all of their rational faculties. Otherwise, they would probably only lose control over themselves when in close enough proximity to someone - or in some cases, something - living. This is rather fortunate, otherwise, life in the Tunnels would be the hell that I believe you may consider it to be. So, to answer your question, a vampire would only probably be under the full weight of his hunger for half an hour, to an hour, depending on the individual.”
“So, he couldn’t have got that far before realising what he was doing?”
“It depends, partly on the will of the individual, and partly on the extremity of the hunger. However, I believe it to be the case that a vampire will always eventually overcome the internal battle against the desire to feed, as long as they want to. In some cases, potential victims may even have enough time to escape, if they correctly identify in time that they are in danger.”
“Amanda.” Adam and Amanda were pulled out of their conversation by a familiar voice. They turned to the doorway to see Ms Halford standing there. “Amanda, your room is ready.”
Chapter 5
In the darkness of the side-passage beside 53 Balfour Lane, in a position that afforded a more than adequate view of the O’Hare residence opposite, there stood a lone figure. He had been keeping an eye on the house over the road for at least a couple of days, unnoticed by Mary despite her habit of checking whether anyone was paying any attention to her as she went about the occasional tasks that drew her outside. He had mainly been able to avoid detection due to the cover provided by the large and newly painted yellow skip; the piles of paving stones and the assortment of other materials that sat outside number 53; and as the house beside him was undergoing considerable refurbishment, meaning Mary had little reason to suspect that someone would be keeping an eye on her from the property. A different individual than the one keeping a watch on the O’Hare household may have even taken up a temporary residence within the house, but this one had not. He enjoyed the feeling of the rain, the wind and the cold on his skin; it almost reminded him of being alive.
During the time he had been watching the house, he had closely followed the times of the comings and goings of Mary as she made her occasional forays into the world outside, as well as keeping track of her movements within the house as best he could. Just like the two nights before, the light of one of the top floor windows went out at exactly half past nine.
The figure smiled. He was pleased to find that this woman, who he had found over the course of his time watching her to be a creature of habit, had once again lived up to what he expected of her. Indeed, so content was he with his perception of her character that he had decided that it was almost the right time to act.
After an hour of waiting, quite long enough he was sure for Mary to fall into a deep enough sleep, he began. He straightened his long black raincoat, which he only wore as he deemed that it was fit attire for his activities rather than the weather, and quickly strode across the road and down the driveway until he came to the Mary’s door. From what he had learned from his surveillance, he was confident that he had no need to fear that anyone was watching him, and consequently proceeded to tackle the problem of breaking into number 56 without making the sort of noise that could disturb and alert those inside.
After wiping his boots on the worn, brown welcome mat outside, with careful tread - and a smile on his lips brought about by the excitement of breaking in without being discovered - the figure ventured into the house. Always the sort to get rid of the most difficult tasks first, he headed straight for the stairs.
Each footstep he took up the flowery, patterned carpeted steps was an act of great concentration and care. It was not just that he was concerned that he might bring attention to himself if he created too much noise, it was also a matter of being able to continue the game of invading the privacy of the O’Hare household, one he was thoroughly enjoying. Indeed, as he finally made it to the landing at the top of the stairs, he even took a few moments to enjoy the sense of satisfaction brought about by his success so far. As he stood there, he took a long and slow deep breath, reminded himself not to become too over confident and destroy his chance to fulfil his main goal, then made his way over to the room at the front of the house, which he assumed was the main bedroom.
With great caution, he slowly turned the brass handle and gently opened the door. Though the only illumination in the room came from the streetlamp outside, the invader found that there was still sufficient light to determine that all was as he expected in the bedroom. For a couple of minutes, he listened to the faint sound of breathing that constituted almost the only noise in the room. Though there was a slight thrill in this, it also had a practical purpose: he needed to ensure that the slight disturbance he had caused when opening the door had not roused anyone from their sleep. Eventually, he became content that Mary was still oblivious to his presence and then, with a fair degree of concentration to ensure that he did not mistakenly let go of the handle, he closed the door.
With a speed that was relatively swift in comparison to the time he had taken to inspect the bedroom, the man investigated the other couple of rooms on the upper floor with the aid of his pocket torch. It came as no surprise to him that he did not find what he was looking for. Instead, all he came across were boxes filled with old copies of the Radio Times, a selection of DIY guides, a large pile of completed crossword puzzle books, several pieces of outdated or broken furniture and the upstairs toilet. What a waste of so many decades, he thought.
Slowly, the invader made his way back down to the ground floor and began his real search. He only gave the kitchen a cursory glance as he not only knew that Mary had received Johann Milch in the room on more than one occasion, it was also all too visible
from the garden outside. Surely she would not be so foolish as to hide what he was looking for in there. The living room, he thought, was also a dead end: far too risky. It was one of the most likely places to receive unwanted visitors. Nevertheless, he prided himself on conscientiousness, so he took his time to check the walls of the room and under the three-piece suite as best he could, finding no evidence of what he was looking for.
Sadly, he told himself, the game was coming to an end. The individual who had tasked him with the mission he was undertaking would be most displeased with the way he was carrying it out, as the invader had left the most obvious places for what he was searching for till last. This caused the man no degree of concern as he was quite confident that he would get the task done, and he saw no reason why he should not have a little enjoyment in the performance of his duty; especially as such tasks had become so much more infrequent in the recent past. So, with a slightly heavy heart, he made his way to the first of the two most likely locations of his target: underneath the stairs. Once again, he had to take care while opening the panel to the hidden space for fear that a pile of unseen loose items might come tumbling out. However, he found the space to be well ordered and, after a thorough inspection, nothing more interesting than Mary’s cleaning closet.
The last location was the ground floor bathroom, which was situated at the back of the house behind the kitchen. For the first time, the man determined that it would be safe enough to use the room’s light and, after locking the door behind him, turned it on to reveal walls of pale green and yellow tiles, and a slightly worn pale brown carpet. What sort of vampire could be content to persist to exist in a place such as this? he thought. He first inspected the black wooden bath panel but considered that it did not seem likely that anything was hiding behind it. Consequently, he turned his attention to the carpet and was not surprised to find that it easily came away from the tack strips laid around the edge of the floor. And there, before him, was what he had been looking for the whole time. What he considered to be a fully justified sense of achievement swept over him. He took a moment for himself and then, finally, he moved on to the next stage of his work.
***
“Hey B-man,” said David while nudging Brenden in his side. “So, you’ve decided to return to us? Missed our mummy Namenkhetamun, you dirty dog.”
Brenden slouched a little further in his chair, picked slowly at the corner of the blank notebook he had before him and gave no reply to David’s words beyond a small unintended murmur.
“Come on now kid, I’m just messing with you. No need to be a sad sack.”
“Leave him be,” said Lilith in as firm a tone as she could manage with her hoarse voice.
“Alright, Miss Zombie, whatever you command.”
“He’s been through a lot.”
“David!” With the exception of Brenden, all the students in the class instantly focused their attention on the entrance to the classroom to see the terrible fury painted across Adam’s face, an anger that was made all the more frightening by the man’s grotesque pale yellow face.
“David,” Adam repeated in a softer tone that was still none-the-less terrifying for most of the students who had never seen their teacher truly enraged. “Please, leave my classroom.”
Despite the fact that David prided himself on being one of the lucky few men who could take the heat from any boss, client or other fool in his old life, without a word of protest he quickly departed and disappeared into the corridor.
Though Adam and Lilith had only good intentions in their defence of Brenden against David, through making something out of the man’s words, and by reinforcing the idea that the Brenden could not look after himself, they only made the boy feel even more useless and pathetic than he had before. Slowly, while thinking about how he had been unable to even run away, Brenden sank down further in his chair as Adam started proceedings for the day.
“Later on, a class will be given by Ms Stapleton on effective ways to find employment on the internet - something I must admit a rather great ignorance of - to support one’s life when out in the world of the living. Apparently, some suggest that this new system may enable many more of us to refrain from joining the community in the Tunnels as we will be able to support ourselves by working at home. Indeed, a number of my former students have adopted this path. I have my doubts about this system - as I do not see why working at home prevents one from having to engage with the living in the area one inhabits - but if you are considering going back into the old world, it is probably a lesson worth taking. So, is anyone here interested in the lesson? I just need to put your name down so that she can prepare the necessary materials.”
It came as no surprise to Adam that Lilith, the other zombie Robert and Namenkhetamun indicated no interest in the course, though he felt quite differently about the lack of response from Brenden.
“Brenden, sorry, just to make sure. Did you hear what I said? If you want to go back out into the world of the living, this course could be well worth taking.”
With his eyes fixed firmly on the frayed and picked corner of his notebook, Brenden slowly shook his head.
“Though I’m sure you know quite a bit about this already, might there not be something you can learn about finding work, as I should add that Ms Stapleton will also try to help you look for a job, if you wish. Indeed, I think I ought to say that this is not just a one-off lesson, it’ll be on twice a week and she will guide you through the whole process of applications, building a cv and so on. You don’t have to go today; you can start next time. However, I just need to put your name down now so that she can get an idea of how many people will be joining the class.”
Once again, Brenden shook his head.
“Well, if you change your mind, I can always just add your name in the future. But, let’s leave it there for today. Right, to other things.”
***
The house of Caroline Osborne did not match Amanda’s expectations at all. After pulling up in her car at the address, Amanda even checked twice that she had the right place. Though she still considered it all a little odd, her satnav, the address she had on the file for the vampire, the result on Google Earth on her phone and the number she could see on the house all matched up. The reason for all this doubt was that the house was not hidden away like most of the vampire dwellings she knew of, but a well-maintained terrace without even curtains on the windows. Indeed, the contrast between the dark of the twilight outside and the warm light of the front room before her even enabled her to see that inside there was a good looking, blonde, middle-aged woman, presumably Caroline, sitting quite contently and reading a book.
A little bemused, Amanda made her way to the front door and attempted to think of some excuse to tell, whoever this woman was, why she had rung her bell. However, before she even pressed the white button of the antique brass bell, the door opened and Amanda was greeted by the welcoming smile of the woman she had just seen through the window.
“How may I help you, dear?”
“Oh, I’m sorry to bother you this late. It’s just, I was wondering, you wouldn’t happen to be Caroline Osbourne, would you? You see, I’ve just been sent…”
“Ah, from the school!” replied the woman, while simultaneously opening the door a little wider. “Yes, I’m Caroline, good to meet you. Come in, come in. I’ve been expecting you for days.”
Amanda stepped onto the black and white tiles of the hallway and closed the front door behind her. When she turned back around, Amanda found that Caroline had already disappeared back into the front room, quite content to leave her newly arrived and unknown guest unattended.
“Just throw your things down in there, my dear, and come and join me in here. Oh, sorry, I forgot to ask your name.”
“Amanda.”
“Well, Amanda, would you like anything to drink?”
“No, fine thanks,” replied Amanda, softly, as she draped the leather jacket she was wearing over a mahogany hat and coat stand.
&nbs
p; As she did so, she could not help but notice some of the photographs on the wall, most of which seemed to include Caroline herself, and many of which included pictures of parties in the very house in which she was standing; parties at which the only member of the living dead clearly seemed to be Caroline. One black and white image, in particular, caught Amanda’s eye; it was of a dance hall, heaving with people, that she guessed must have been taken in the 1940s or 50s. It was not so much this that interested her, but one particular figure. Dancing with a well-attired and handsome young man was a smiling Caroline looking right down the camera’s lens; what was striking was that in the image, Caroline appeared to look exactly as she had when she had greeted Amanda at the door.
“Ha, you’ve found me,” said Caroline.
“Hasn’t anyone ever noticed this? What do you say if people see this? I mean, you clearly seem to invite people round.”
“When you get to my age, dear – and the less said about that the better – you don’t really care what people see or say.”
“You mean that people here know what you are?”
“No, don’t be silly. They’re far too busy with their own lives to worry about something as inconsequential as me. Tell people you’re a vampire and they’ll think you’re either having a laugh or that you’re mad.”
“Are you saying that you tell the living that you’re a vampire?”
The School of the Undead Page 13
