Horror Thriller Box Set 1

by Amy Cross

  "I saw him," Jerry continued, "as clear as I see you standing here right now. I don't know where he went, though. The flames were so bright. He was right in the middle of them, and then he just seemed to walk off into the darkness."

  Sighing, Marlowe turned and looked once again at the burning museum. It was quite clear that the entire building was going to be destroyed. Parts of the structure had already collapsed, and anything left standing would undoubtedly have to be demolished. He couldn't even begin to understand what the repercussions of this disaster might be, but he knew without doubt that his work on the bodies was over. For a moment, he couldn't help but think of Wade's corpse burning in the heart of the inferno. If this accident had happened on any other night, it would have been Marlowe himself who'd have been in there, except that he had a lingering feeling that he wouldn't have allowed such a fire to take root in the first place.

  "They say it won't be out until morning," Kate said tiredly, turning away from the police officer. "The fire crews are going to focus on containment for now, and they figure whatever's fueling the flames, it'll start burning out within a few hours. None of their usual methods are working. Something's driving the fire, and they won't know the cause until they can get in and look through the rubble, which might take days."

  "So they're not going to try to save anything that's in there?" Marlowe asked incredulously. "They're going to let the whole place and its contents burn?"

  "Come on," Kate said, as Jerry was loaded into the back of the ambulance. "There's no point standing around here. We should both get some rest so we're ready when we're really needed, in the morning."

  Realizing that she was right, Marlowe turned and walked away with her. It pained him to leave the building behind, and it pained him even more to think of how the site would look in the morning. He'd spent the past five years working at the museum, and now the entire place was being incinerated. He knew it was wrong to feel more strongly about the demise of a building than about the death of his assistant, but he couldn't help how he'd reacted. The museum had been his professional home for so long, and the Bulgarian vampire bones had promised to push his research to the next level. Now it was all gone, and he'd have to start again.

  A couple of weeks later, once he and the rest of the museum's staff were back at the still-steaming site, Marlowe began the laborious task of recovering what remained of the bones. Charred and scorched, they'd nevertheless survived without turning to ash, and Marlowe went through the motions of trying to sort them back into their original batches. He worked on the project alone for the next two weeks, trying endless permutations and consulting hundreds of photos that he and Wade had taken. At first, people offered their help, but he always turned them down. He even rejected Kate's offer of help, since he was determined to work alone. After a while, no-one checked on Marlowe at all, and he began to be seen as a complete loner. Some people even questioned his sanity.

  Still Marlowe kept working. Day after day, night after night, often forgetting to sleep and eat. He was rarely seen outside his makeshift office in one of the museum's other buildings, and eventually he forget about the outside world completely. Frantically thin, wearing the same clothes he'd been wearing for weeks and weeks, he worked without sleep. He knew there was an answer somewhere in this pile of bones, but the truth just seemed to be constantly out of reach. No matter what Marlowe tried, no matter how many times he checked the images and tried to rearrange the bones, he could never come up with fifteen separate sets. Fourteen, yes, but never fifteen. There always seemed to be one set of bones missing.

  Resurrection

  Chapter One

  "MOMMA!" Eva screamed, standing at the back door. "MOMMA! WHERE ARE YOU?"

  Seconds later, she heard a set of panicked feet racing down the stairs, and eventually her mother appeared at the back door, staring at her with a look of terror in her eyes.

  "What's wrong, Eva?" she asked, fumbling to get the door unlocked. "Are you hurt? Did someone hurt you?"

  Eva stared up at her, waiting until finally the door swung open.

  "Let me look," her mother said, kneeling in front of her. She pushed the hair from across Eva's face and looked frantically for any sign of injury. "Where are you hurt?" she continued, her voice trembling. "Eva, where is it? Tell me! Talk to me, sweetheart!"

  "I'm not hurt," Eva said, finally allowing herself to smile. "I just couldn't get in the back door, that's all. Someone locked it again."

  "You..." Her mother stared at her. The panic had been all-consuming, and it was clear that she was taking a moment to reset her thoughts. "You know we keep the back door locked these days, sweetheart. You have to use the front door. I told you that."

  "I didn't want to go all the way round," Eva said. "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you."

  For a moment, Eva could see a hint of anger in her mother's eyes. If she was annoyed at her daughter's actions, however, she quickly managed to contain herself. More than anything else, she was just relieved that nothing bad had happened. Reaching out, she put her arms around Eva and gave her a hug.

  "You mustn't scare me like that," she said eventually. "Sweetheart, when you shout and bang on the door, it makes me think that something's wrong."

  "You worry too much," Eva said, allowing herself to be hugged but not reciprocating. She knew it was mean, but she couldn't help having fun with these little tricks that she regularly played on her mother. "I'm eleven, Momma. I'm not gonna get hurt every time I go outside."

  "No," her mother said, releasing her from the hug. "You're not. And do you know why you're not? Because you have a mother who takes care of you, and who looks after you, and who keeps you safe." She glanced across the back garden, her eyes briefly fixing on the nearby woods. Ever since they'd moved to this new house, Eva's mother had been haunted by the thought of the creatures that could be lurking between the trees. She had constant nightmares of foxes, badgers and all sorts of other beasts attacking her precious little daughter.

  "I just wanted a drink," Eva continued, feeling a little bored with the game now. She'd only wanted to scare her mother, not to drive her into total panic.

  "What kind of drink?" her mother asked, getting to her feet and walking through to the kitchen.

  "Cola," Eva said, following her.

  "You know we don't have cola in this house," her mother said. "That stuff's full of sugar. We have water, milk or fresh juice."

  Eva sniffed, before glancing over at the phone. She hated the phone. Any second, that phone could start ringing with bad news. Eva didn't understand why the phone couldn't just be disconnected and thrown away.

  "Water, then," her mother said, grabbing a glass. "You don't want cola. God knows what's in that stuff. I don't think bubbles are good for you, either. There are all sorts of chemicals in those drinks, and God knows if they test them properly. No daughter of mine is going to eat or drink anything that doesn't have a proper list of ingredients."

  "Have you heard from Daddy?" Eva asked, still staring at the phone.

  "No," her mother replied quickly, having anticipated the question. "It's Tuesday. We never hear from him on Tuesdays. You know that."

  "We did once," Eva said. "About a year ago, he was supposed to call on a Wednesday, but he called a day early instead."

  Her mother opened her mouth to argue with her, but finally she realized that there was no point. Passing Eva the glass of water, she took a deep breath and tried to stay calm. She'd learned long ago that arguing with her daughter only made things worse. Eva was an intelligent girl, and she often rang rings around her mother thanks to her ability to accurately recall even the tiniest detail of past events.

  "Do you think Daddy's mission went well?" Eva asked.

  "I don't know anything about your father's missions," her mother said.

  "But you know they're dangerous. He goes out in big army jeeps with lots of guns. That's got to be dangerous."

  "Well..." There was a pause. "He's in a dangerous part of the w
orld, sweetheart, but he's going to be okay. He's got all the training and all the equipment he needs, and if he really gets into trouble, he can phone a friend who'll come and blow up the bad guys for him."

  "Why do people keep trying to kill him?" Eva asked.

  "No-one's trying to kill him."

  "People shoot at him."

  "They're shooting at the army, not specifically at your father."

  "But he's still there," Eva continued. "He could still get shot."

  "He's not going to get shot!" her mother snapped, raising her voice a little. "Oh," she added, rushing forward and giving Eva another hug, spilling half the glass of water in the process. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. Momma never means to shout at her angel, it's just..." She paused for a moment. "You mustn't think bad thoughts. If you think bad thoughts, you're tempting fate. You must think good thoughts, only good thoughts. Happy thoughts. Daddy's coming home in six weeks. That's not really such a long time, is it? Just six more weeks of good and happy thoughts. Do you think you can manage that?"

  "I suppose," Eva replied non-committally.

  "That's my girl," her mother said, stepping back and smiling. She had tears in her eyes, which was pretty much par for the course these days. It was clear to everyone, even to Eva, that her mother was cracking up. Sometimes, Eva felt as if her mother lived in a bubble, spending all her time worrying about other people. Even her mother's rare smiles seemed forced and nervous.

  "I'm going to go and play again," Eva said.

  "Where?"

  "Outside."

  "Where outside?"

  "In the woods."

  "Are you sure you want to do that?" her mother asked nervously. "Wouldn't you like to play inside, with your books or your dolls? I'll even let you watch a DVD if you're good."

  "I won't go far," Eva said. "I promise. I'll make sure I can always see the back gate, and I won't go too far, so that I can hear you if you call for me." She was just parroting the instructions her mother had given her many times before; she had no particular intention of staying within those boundaries.

  There was a pause, and Eva wondered if she was going to be made to stay inside again.

  "Fine," her mother said eventually, sounding tired. "Just... not for too long, okay? I'm worried it might rain, and you could get ill if you end up soaked, do you understand? The last thing I want is to have to tell your father that his little princess has got pneumonia."

  Eva nodded.

  "I mean it. I'll be mad at you if I have to come and search for you out there."

  "I'll stay close," Eva said. "I won't be more than an hour, and I won't go any further than the old oak tree."

  "No climbing."

  "I won't climb it," Eva replied, turning and heading back out into the garden.

  "I'll know if you climbed it!"

  "I won't climb it!"

  "And if you meet anyone out there," her mother called after her, "come home immediately, do you hear? You're not allowed to talk to strangers!"

  "I won't," Eva said, hurrying along the garden and out through the little gate. This was when she was at her happiest: running away from the house, alone, heading out into the wilderness beyond. She knew that if she went far enough, she wouldn't be able to hear the phone, even if it rang all day.

  Finally, she was back at the edge of the woods. With her mother having become a nervous wreck lately, Eva loved spending as much time as possible out here. Of course, she kind of wished that she had some friends, perhaps just one person she could bring out here and teach about the place. The problem wasn't that Eva was anti-social, it was just that there were no girls her age nearby, and she hadn't started at the local school yet, so she had no choice but to play alone. Anyway, these woods were good for her; they fired her imagination and kept her busy, and she was happy to just wander between the trees, making note of the things that she saw and occasionally collecting little samples of foliage.

  She felt safe out here as she trudged through the piles of dead leaves. Safer than she felt at home, where the phone might ring at any moment with bad news from the other side of the world.

  Eva was used to spending time alone in the woods. Occasionally, she imagined she heard someone nearby, but it always turned out to be the wind or some kind of harmless animal. One time, she even saw a deer. Few people in this dull little town ever bothered to venture out here, and Eva knew that she didn't have much to worry about. Besides, she was good at running, and she felt certain that she could easily get home without anyone being able to catch her. The woods were her world, where her rules applied, and she felt much safer out here than she did when she was in town. At least in the woods, everything moved nice and slowly. Eva had even come up with a plan to move out here one day and just live in the wilderness.

  Hearing a screeching sound high above, Eva glanced up and saw a small black creature circling the forest. At first she thought it might be a bird, but as it swooped down and flew past her, she realized it was darker and more ragged. A bat, maybe.

  After a few minutes, she reached the large old oak tree that stood alone in a clearing. Towering several meters above her, the tree had obviously suffered some kind of disaster in the past, and its trunk was split and twisted, opening at the top into two gnarled arms that seemed to reach up to the sky. Eva liked to imagine what kind of tragedy had struck this tree long ago in the past; a lightning strike, perhaps, or some kind of huge battle between a pair of giants. So many of the trees in the forest were tall and thin and straight, but this tree was different. It seemed powerful and important.

  It was this tree, more than any other in the forest, that attracted Eva's attention, and she kept promising herself that one day she'd try to climb all the way to the top. Looking up, she could see thick branches that would surely provide support, and she longed to know what it was like up at the very top, beyond the leaves. She couldn't help imagining herself all the way up there, breaking through the canopy and looking out over the whole world. She'd never come down again, either. She'd just stay up there forever and ever, watching the rest of the world and not having to talk to anyone or wait for the phone to ring.

  But today wasn't the right day. Climbing the tree would require preparation, and she knew it might be a long time before she was ready. Still, she was pleased that she had a goal in life. One day, she'd live in the old oak tree and just watch the world from a distance. All things considered, she felt that it wasn't a bad plan. Some people wanted to be lawyers, some people wanted to be teachers of pop stars, and Eva wanted to be the queen of the forest. Even her mother would have to agree with it eventually, since no-one could hurt Eva if she was up in the tree. Besides, she'd need her mother to come and deliver food, since Eva didn't much fancy eating bugs and leaves for the rest of her life. There were still a few flaws in the plan, but she was sure she'd have everything worked out eventually.

  As the afternoon draw on, and as she played at the base of the old tree, she became more and more aware that sooner or later she'd have to go home. At one point, she even thought she heard the phone ringing, even though she was certain that she shouldn't be able to hear anything from the house, not when she was this far out in the forest. Delaying her return as long as possible, she waited until the light began to dim before accepting that it was time to go back. Still, though, she loitered, delaying the inevitable.

  A couple of hours later, when Eva returned home, she found her mother sitting by the phone with tears in her eyes.

  Chapter Two

  Eva had never been to a funeral before.

  Basically, what happened was this: a bunch of people turned up, some of whom Eva recognized, and then there was a car journey to the local church. Everyone sat around and listened to the priest, while Eva's father's coffin was displayed at the front, with the lid closed and a Union Jack flag draped over the top. After that, everyone went to the cemetery and the coffin was put into the ground, and then some people threw dirt down into the hole before everyone went back to Eva's house an
d had lunch. It was much neater than Eva had expected, and much more quiet. Everyone seemed to be whispering most of the time, and although some of the people were trying to pretend that they were smiling, they weren't very convincing. Every so often, one of the adults would look over at Eva and tell her that she was brave, which made no sense at all.

  She didn't feel brave.

  Eva couldn't stop looking at the photo of her father in his military uniform. She remembered when the photo was taken, and she found it odd to think that it was now being used to mark his death. He looked so proud and heroic, and Eva kept imagining that uniform being ripped to pieces and covered in blood. She knew she shouldn't be thinking about such things, but she was bored. No-one really spoke to her at all during the whole day, and even her mother seemed busy with other things. For the most part, Eva was left alone.

  Although no-one had officially told Eva what happened to her father when he was killed, she'd managed to work most of it out by listening to conversations. It seemed that he'd been out on patrol in Afghanistan when a bomb exploded by the side of the road. The vehicle was badly damaged, but Eva's father and another solider managed to get away. They were properly hurt, but they started making their way back to their base on foot. Eventually, however, Eva's father got too tired, probably because he was bleeding a lot. The two men had to stop, and although help turned up after a while, it was too late for Eva's father, who turned out to be dead. It wasn't quite the heroic death that Eva had hoped for, and she wasn't sure why her mother kept insisting that it was a noble act of sacrifice and courage. Still, Eva was aware that she was probably still too young to understand the whole thing; she felt as if she was experiencing everything through a filter that prevented her from understanding the truth.