“Sometimes the truth can be a difficult fellow to live with, especially when you thought he was someone else. But this is all a topic for another time. I’m afraid that I’d better get on or we’ll soon have a rowdy mob amassing on the school premises with no event to descend upon.”
After an awkward nod goodbye, the deputy strode a couple of paces down the corridor. Before he got too far, he stopped himself abruptly and quickly returned to Amanda.
“You know, there was something else I really wanted to say to you. I’m so very glad that I got you to look into all this now. I don’t want to say that it came as a surprise that you got him, but that’s the first attack that’s really been solved in years; discounting those that needed no one to investigate them to find the culprit, of course. I was thinking, would you consider lingering on here at the school a while? There might be a few other matters with which you could lend a helping hand. Don’t answer me now,” interjected the deputy as Amanda was about to say something in reply to his request, “have a little think about it first.”
With a burst of energy, and before waiting to hear what Amanda had to say, the deputy marched off down the hall. Amanda, with Brenden beside her, was left behind, thinking to herself that she had fallen into being some sort of a fraud as she in no way felt that she had really solved the case. She tried to tell herself that she had endeavoured to inform the deputy and others at the school that she had not really cracked the case at all – it had just fallen into her lap - and that there was still the significant mystery of the unknown figure she had seen behind Mary’s home. However, she could not convince herself that she had done enough. Indeed, as the deputy walked away, for the glimmer of a moment, she lied to herself that she might just call him back and try to explain again. She recognised the lie for what it was; a confirmation that even if others had falsely attributed the solving of the case to her, she was complicit in not overturning the misconception.
“Come on Brenden, let’s go see what they have in store for us.”
***
The first person to arrive in the space that was to function as a makeshift court that morning had been Ms Halford. She had heard long ago that the small hall - with its rising stone fan vault gothic ceiling - was one of the oldest surviving rooms in the school and that it had often been used in the past for the very purpose planned for it that day. However, the grandeur that was suggested by the carvings above her had mostly disappeared; now there were only bare whitewashed walls where tapestries once held pride of place; the room’s fine carved wooden pews had been replaced with plastic chairs; the windows had been bricked up and even the ceiling itself was in quite a poor state of repair: more evidence to the teacher of the gradual decline of the school.
Slowly, teachers, students and even former attendees of the school started to appear and take their places. Ms Halford herself found a spot near the back of the hall, from which she could inform the often lost looking people entering that they were indeed in the right place. Soon enough, the silence Ms Halford had been pleased to experience when she first entered the hall was replaced by the low hum of the various vampires, ghosts, zombies and other creatures of the undead’s discussion of the strange event that lay before them.
One group in the crowd were clearly some of the elder vampires, those who had remained in the world for much longer than many of the struggling younger undead would believe was possible given their own difficulties in attempting to survive. These individuals were marked out by either their notoriety in the community or by their oddly ancient formal attire. Some even seemed to be dressed in clothing that had last been fashionable on the other side of the 1890s, though it was sometimes difficult if this was due to the age of the individual or just for show as the number of years a vampire had collected was considered by many as a sign of merit. These vampires mostly kept to themselves, collected together in the first few rows of seats. For the most part, they kept their silence. However, a few newer members of this self-designated elite attempted to comment on the case in the slight hope that their betters might take note of their presence. Many of the others gathered in the small hall - especially the younger students - discussed the differing rumours they had picked up about the case, particularly those that outlined gruesome details; details that had been heavily embellished by enthusiastic story tellers as information was passed along.
Every so often, the noise in the room would dip in response to new arrivals or just as a result of the coincidental convergences of pauses in conversations. When the deputy finally made his appearance, not only did the conversation dip but for a tension-filled moment it stopped entirely. The reasons for this were simple: he was the most senior member of the school anyone really knew and it would be him who would oversee the proceedings of the day. As the man made his way up the centre of the room, the silence was broken by sharp whispers; eventually, even some of the apparently disinterested distinguished group of vampires turned their heads to see what was happening.
Without taking any notice of the crowd around him, the deputy strode up to the plain mahogany lectern and proceeded to remove two slim notebooks from the inside of his suit jacket. Only after spending a little time preparing himself at the lectern did the deputy look up to glance around at the still whispering gathering before him. It was only a glance, and one with a purpose: he was looking for Ms Halford. When his eyes finally found hers at the back of the room, he gave her an assertive nod to indicate it was time.
The ghost drifted through the back wall and disappeared just as Brenden and Amanda appeared at the hall’s entrance. The deputy, who still had his attention directed at the back of the hall, was the first to see the arrival of the two and he quickly responded by attempting to fix the boy with a smile. His aim was a noble one. Indeed, it was to try and relieve the boy of any anxiety that he might be feeling by greeting him with a friendly face. However, the main thing he managed to achieve was to alert the rest of the room – who until that point had still been mainly concerned with the deputy himself – to Brenden’s presence as they turned to discover what had led to the change in the countenance of the formally stony-faced deputy.
Brenden reacted to the sudden unwanted attention of the room by dropping his gaze to the floor and quickly trying to make his way to the nearest row of chairs. In his rush to escape the eyes of all before him, he not only left Amanda behind but acted in such a way as to intensify his feeling of embarrassment as he hurriedly pushed past a couple of seated zombies to reach the nearest empty chair, almost tripping himself up in the process. He did not look up to see if anyone was even still paying any attention to him, he just collapsed in on himself while flitting between thoughts of escape and how everyone must think him a fool. He remained in this state - unaware that almost everyone in the room had already turned their attention back to their conversations – until he felt the hand of Amanda come to rest on his shoulder.
“Is it okay if I sit next to you?” she asked.
“Yeah,” mumbled the boy, who was still feeling the sting of the internal battle between his desire to flee and his embarrassment.
Suddenly, the mood in the hall changed. A wave of whispers rolled across the gathered crowd as individuals, then groups, realised that the two defendants had finally made their appearance. Unlike all the others around him, Brenden did not turn around to inspect the accused couple; he just fixed his eyes on the back of the worn black corduroy jacket of the vampire in front of him. Indeed, he did not look at Mary or the man with her until they appeared in his peripheral vision, leading him to turn his head slightly so that he could see the back of the bald pate of his supposed attacker as it disappeared and reappeared between the heads of those sitting in the rows before him.
In the odd procession that made its way up to the front of the hall, Ms Halford led the way, with the two small figures of Mary and the attacker behind her. The two accused were also followed by two large zombies acting as guards, one of which Brenden recognised as Freddie, the zombie who ha
d dug him out of the ground not so long ago. As the little party approached the two plastic chairs that had been placed just to the side of the deputy’s lectern, Brenden found his fears subside. Though he was still filled with foreboding about the possibility of the man locating him in the crowd and fixing him with the eyes that haunted him night and day, he nevertheless discovered that he could now look directly at the pair.
The visage of the man was not what Brenden expected. Despite what Brenden had seen of the man outside the deputy’s office a few days before, the boy had expected that his attacker would once again be the ferocious and unforgiving being that he still imagined him to be. However, there was no sign of the monster he had constructed in his mind before him, just a small, sad, pale and fearful man in an old brown suit. Despite the fact that the boy could plainly see that the body of the individual taking a seat at the front of the hall was his attacker’s, the extreme contrast between what he had seen on the night of his death and what was now before him led Brenden to question whether they really had the right man. If all the zombies, vampires and other creatures of the undead could exist, was it not possible that something else could too? Something that was capable of possessing the pathetic individual at the front of the hall and turning him into the creature that had killed him.
“Is that really the man?” asked Brenden.
“That’s him, Brenden,” whispered Amanda in reply. “But don’t worry about him, he’s not going to hurt anyone now.”
“But, it’s just that he looks so small.”
Without any further elaboration, Amanda knew what Brenden meant. When she had driven Mary and Peter back to the school, a part of her too had found it a little difficult to accept that the pale little creature that sat quietly in her backseat had not only been Brenden’s attacker but the man who had killed Milch. However, she also was aware of what the hunger could do to any vampire as well as what strength even her own body could muster when the first waves of the need to consume swept over her.
“It’s not the man, Brenden, it’s the hunger, a thing I hope you’ll never have to experience for yourself. I’ve been lucky to avoid what it can do to a person, but we all know the stories. Just think, it’s a force that’s even led to the creation of prisons for our own kind, like the Tunnels.”
This explanation helped Brenden realise that in a way he had been right. The man had been possessed, by his own hunger. For the first time, he felt a pang of sorrow for Peter.
“Good morning,” announced the deputy. “Good morning to you all,” he repeated as the conversations in the hall slowly died away. “It has come to my attention that a number of you have gathered here today as you expect to see a trial, but that is not what is on the cards at all.”
The audience responded to this statement with a burst of muttering, loud enough to drown out the next qualifying statement of the deputy.
“Please,” the deputy called out over the voices in the hall. “Please,” he stated again as the din in the room quietened enough for him to be heard, “let me explain. There is no need for such a trial as the two defendants have already declared that they admit their guilt in the case. According to the old laws, as described by Deputy Blackstone some two hundred years ago, this means that the two only need to be sentenced. However, these laws also state that such sentencing should be given in public following an outline of the case so as to ensure that any sentence given is appropriate. I am sorry if there were any mixed messages about what was to happen today. Perhaps we will just have to forgive those who spread the word about there being a trial as it has been quite a while since anything like this has taken place at this school. A little excitement, misunderstanding and forgetfulness in such circumstances is only to be expected.
“So as to avoid any further misunderstanding, let me quickly lay out what’s going to happen. After a few further clarifications from myself, we are going to hear from the two guilty parties. They will set out their confessions in full. I do not need to remind you all that this will not be an opportunity for public discourse: the two parties are to be heard without interruption. I believe we will first hear from Mary O’Hare, who will outline her part in the case and any statement she may wish to make with regards to her sentencing. We will then hear from the other guilty party, Peter O’Hare, who will also give his confession and make his wishes known.
“Once the two have made their statements, there will be a brief opportunity for questions to clarify if everything that has been said is true. There will then be a break before sentencing is passed. During this pause, if anyone believes that there is any point of issue that could affect the guilty parties’ sentencing - such as a suggestion that what they have said is not correct or that other parties may also be involved in the case - I would ask you to come to see me in my office. All those who give statements will remain anonymous.
“Following this pause in proceedings, all those who care to return to this hall can hear the sentences being handed down. As deputy of the school, the duty of passing sentence on the two O’Hares falls to myself. So, now we’ve got all this out the way, I think we should make a start.”
The deputy stepped away from the lectern and calmly walked over to a rather nervous looking Mary. She whispered something to the man, something inaudible to all except for the deputy and Peter beside her. A grimace passed across the deputy’s face in response to what Mary said, but the man quickly regained control of himself and he adopted a neutral expression before signalling to Ms Halford who had returned to her position at the back of the hall.
“Yes, deputy,” said Ms Halford upon reaching the man, doing her best to ignore the many eyes that had followed her as she made her way to reach the deputy.
“Mrs O’Hare has informed me that she feels she will be unable to project her voice in the hall so that everyone can hear her. Do we have some way to resolve this?”
Though Ms Halford was more than a little disgruntled at being appointed to the role of the deputy’s assistant for the day - a task he had told her she would have to fulfil the previous evening – she did nothing to betray her feelings and calmly suggested that she had an idea of how to overcome the problem. The restless crowd, ignorant as to what was going on, was then left to return to its previous state of humming conversation as Ms Halford swiftly left the hall to put her plan into operation. Eventually, Ms Halford returned with a student, who was carrying a small amplifier and microphone. After a few further minutes, during which time the glum looking student set up the amplifier, Mary finally made her way to the lectern, nervously adjusting her matching navy blue dress and jacket as she walked.
From a clutch bag, Mary withdrew a set of notes she had made the night before and proceeded to drop them on the floor. She mumbled a number of inaudible apologies as she retrieved her papers, then hastily picked up the microphone, causing a disagreeable noise to emanate from the small amplifier. All the while, the crowd maintained a deathly silence, something which increasingly weighed upon Mary as it made her progressively more self-conscious. For the last forty or so years, she had strived with her whole being to avoid being noticed by her neighbours and the rest of the undead - she had even been strongly against Peter’s requests to invite over Milch, even though she had given into them in the end – and now there were possibly somewhere in the number of four hundred or so eyes all directed on her. Not only that, but she had to admit to them all what she had been trying to hide all that time. In the crime books she had read, the capture of a perpetrator and the revealing of his misdeed often seemed to bring relief to the criminal. As she stood, staring back at the silent and waiting gathering of her peers, she found that she felt no sense of relief at all. Indeed, she would have done almost anything to return to her home, to her life of four decades, to a way of living she knew had been lost to her forever.
“Good morning,” Mary whispered into the microphone. She cleared her throat to give herself a moment to think about how to go on. The deputy had instructed her just to start at whate
ver she felt was the beginning and that she would soon find that the words would come. “I first came to this school on the tenth of January 1964. I’d only just had the birthday of my second life, as some say, on the Boxing Day just before. As far as I can remember, the weather was just turning and over the next few days it would bring in some snow, meaning my first experience of this place would be a distinctly wintery one, but at least it was not as cold as the winter of the year before.”
Mary paused and tapped her fingers on the lectern; how had she found herself talking about the weather? The room remained silent, but now the atmosphere did not feel quite as aggressive towards her as it had done before she had started to speak. She endeavoured to continue.
“I was only here for a very short time. We all know it’s only voluntary anyway and I was keen to return home. Home to Peter, that is. You see, I’d been at my sister’s when it happened and I was impatient to return to Radcliff to show Peter that I was not really dead: well, not gone, anyway.
“My sister did not know anything about what had happened either and I found out later – when I called to tell her where I’d been - that she’d reported me as missing. I told her quite bluntly that I’d left in a huff as the latest man she’d hooked up with was a disgrace, and that I didn’t have time for her anymore unless she left him. As far as I know, they’re still married to this day. This little lie to my sister was not so far from the truth, so it was not difficult for her to believe it was true.
“My prime concern, though, was to get back to Peter. After only a couple of weeks here, I made a promise to return to the school, borrowed a little money for the bus, was told about how to get blood in the future and left. I’ve not been back since.
“It happened just after I got back to Peter. I’d left the school in such a rush, I hadn’t really taken what they’d said about the hunger seriously. I only had one thing on my mind and that was to get home. When I appeared at the door, Peter was obviously shocked. He asked me questions about where I’d been, why I’d disappeared from my sister’s. I didn’t give him any answers, not then. He took me in his arms and told me that it was alright. It was then that it happened. I hadn’t even closed the door. I killed him. My Peter.”
The School of the Undead Page 18
