Vampires Overhead

by Alan Hyder

  ‘Oh, Garry. Are you all right now?’ she asked.

  ‘’E’s better now, Miss,’ the stranger said. ‘’Ere, chum, ’ave another sup o’ this.’

  ‘No thanks,’ I smiled between coughs. ‘I’d like a drink of water to put my stomach out though. I think it is alight!’

  ‘Ar! This ’ere’s the stuff to warm yer gizzard.’

  Janet came running with a jug of water, and I drank thirstily. The stranger grinned at me and raised the black bottle to his lips. I watched him gulp nearly half a pint of neat spirit before he lowered the bottle to speak to me again.

  ‘Strewth! I’ve ’eard of blokes with bees in their bonnets,’ he grinned, showing black and broken teeth between the stubble gracing his dirty chin. ‘But goin’ down that there well to save one o’ them there birds! Wot the ’ell d’you do that for? Or did you just ’appen to fall in with it?’

  ‘Oh, don’t tell me! I know it. I did a damn silly thing. Did it foolishly, without stopping to think.’ I grinned apologetically at Janet as she helped me to my feet. ‘I made a fool of myself. But I didn’t realize it until I was down there, and suddenly thought of you being alone, Janet, if anything happened to me.’

  ‘But wot the ’ell d’you do it for?’ the stranger queried.

  ‘I wasn’t actually thinking about saving its life. In fact, I’m going to kill it now,’ I told him. ‘But you see we’ve decided to settle here for the time being, and there’s no other water but that from the well. We couldn’t have drunk water after it had been polluted by that thing drowning in it.’

  ‘Drink water! M’Gawd! With all the breweries in the country wide open for the taking. It’s worsen goin’ down a well to save ’im over there.’

  The man indicated the Vampire squatting motionlessly, and then walked over to kick it violently, so that it fluttered with wet wings some yards away, to sit again on its haunches staring bleakly, for all the world as though listening to our conversation. Grinning at me the man continued.

  ‘Water. Huh! Not more’n couple of miles away there’s a brewery. It’s been burned, but it’s hardly touched. There’s cellars of the stuff there ready for the taking. Tastes all the better for bein’ cooked. ’Ere! ’Ave another swig.’

  ‘No thanks. You’ll want all there is there.’

  ‘Aw! That’s all right. I got a sack o’ stuff, bottles an’ such, the other side the ’ill. Dropped ’em when I ’eard the gal scream for ’elp.’

  ‘Yelling for help! Janet, you’re an optimist. And if you hadn’t called for help I shouldn’t have got any. Would still be down there.’

  ‘Don’t, Garry.’

  ‘No thanks. I really don’t want anything to drink now. I feel more hungry than thirsty. Janet, d’you think we can manage a breakfast from the remains of the bread and cheese?’

  ‘Wot’s that?’ the man interjected. ‘Ain’t got no grub? I got plenty in my swag. Send the gal over the ’ill for it. There’s tea an’ tinned milk an’ tinned meat. Though wot the ’ell I’m carryin’ milk an’ tea about for, Gawd knows. I don’t. There’s plenty there, an’ there’s plenty where it comes from. ’Elp yourselves. You ’op off, m’dear. I’ll look after your bloke.’

  ‘Yes, of course I’ll go,’ Janet cried, despite my frown of protest. ‘You two go in the cottage and get the kettle on, and I’ll be back in a minute.’

  Janet was off, running up the hill, and I watched her before following the stranger into the cottage. Inside I remembered something.

  ‘Where you goin’, chum?’

  ‘Just going to slaughter that damned thing I brought out of the well.’

  When I returned, the stranger was lounging, at home in a chair with feet upon the window-sill. I eyed him curiously. He wasn’t drunk, but he certainly wasn’t sober. Probably he was so soaked in the spirit he carried around with him that he couldn’t get drunk. He was a burly fellow of the tramp class in a filthy shirt opened swaggeringly to display a great red, bull-like neck and hairy chest. His lips were full and red amid the stubbly tangle of his beard. A tough customer, I thought, and thought of the revolver, and then remembered also he had saved my life.

  ‘You know I owe something to you. Coming along like you did was opportune for me. You saved my life, and I’m grateful to you.’

  ‘Aw! S’nothin’.’

  ‘May be nothing to you,’ I grinned at him. ‘But it means a hell of a lot to me.’

  He dismissed the matter with a wave of a great forearm.

  ‘How did you survive?’ I asked him. ‘Are you by yourself? Had a rough time?’

  ‘Rough time! M’Gawd! Rough time! I’ve ’ad rough times afore, but . . .’ he shuddered, drinking again from his bottle.

  ‘First thing I knows about anythin’ was when I wakes up over Mitcham way wiv the ’orrors. Millions of ’em.’

  ‘You mean . . .’

  ‘O’ course I mean them. Wot else? At least they wasn’t the ’orrors, if you understand wot I mean. Not the D.T.s. I was in a wood, and fust thing I knows there ’undreds and ’undreds of black birds all about. And then I think as they was abendin’ down to kiss me. I ain’t so sure as I wasn’t adreamin’ about beautifool woman like this one ’ere,’ he grinned, jerked a thumb over his shoulder to where Janet busied about preparing a meal, and though he laughed I saw he drank deeply with remembrance. He continued with bravado, intent, I think, upon impressing Janet. ‘Then when I sees what they was, I ups an’ kills ’em. M’Gawd! Wot killin’ they want too! The time they take to die!’

  ‘We know all about that,’ I cut in. ‘If you don’t mind we’ll have all the horrid bits left out.’

  ‘Just as you say, captain. Anyways, I gets away from ’em makin’ for a place I know where there’s folks an’ an off-licence, though there ain’t no folks there now, and the off-licence’s aburnin’. So I tried to put out the fire, but it ain’t no use, an’ I gets me enough brandy an’ ’ops it wiv me drink lookin’ for some place to get cosy.’

  ‘And the Vampires? Where were they? There all the time?’

  ‘That wot they are, Vampires? Well, they was on me. All the blurry lot of ’em. I felt ’em. Anyways I shakes ’em off and gets me a snug little ’ome in an old cistern in a dust shoot. Them things comes in wiv me, but I ain’t ’avin’ ’em, an’ throws ’em out. Wot you laughin’ at?’

  ‘Oh. Nothing,’ I grinned. ‘Only the way you’re talking about things that just frightened me out of my life. Carry on.’

  ‘You don’t say, captain. Well, I sets there, comfy. Two days, three, ’oo knows. But I’m there ’til I finishes the drink I got. Then I goes out to the off-licence again for more. An’ strike me pin, them things is still a ’angin’ round. I runs into more of ’em afore I gets me booze. I gets back, an’ there’s about seven of the devils a ’angin’ on to me. They even tries to get in m’cistern wiv me. One of ’em does, an’ I ’as to squash it all over the sides afore it pegs out. Clamped on me like a limpet ’e was! Worsen any delicious tremblin’s I ever ’ad afore. Anyways, this all ’appens out Mitcham way, an’ I’m off amakin’ m’way down to the sea. All the country’s gone up. Ain’t nothin’ left. That’s all. I ’ears your gal ascreamin’, an’ bein’ a bit of a ladies’ man, I ups an’ comes along.’

  ‘Yes. Thank God you came along.’ Janet uttered the words thankfully.

  I stared at the chap reflectively. He had been sodden with drink all the time, actually he didn’t really know what had happened to him, did not understand, even now, what had become of the country.

  ‘But have you seen anything of any other people? We’ve lost one of our party.’

  ‘I seen a bloke not so very far away from ’ere. Wot kind of a bloke was the bloke you lost?’

  ‘Bingen. Not quite so tall as I am, but fatter. Black hair, red face. Dressed in a blue shirt with a rifle. A revolver stuck in his trousers. He’s got a scar on the left side of his forehead.’

  ‘Huh! That the feller you lost?’ The stranger drank slowly from his bot
tle again, keeping us in suspense, and Janet came from the stove to listen with hands clasped eagerly in front of her. He continued in response to our entreaties. ‘I seen just the same feller. I can put me ’and right on where ’e is. No fear as ’e’s run away. ’E’ll be there yet, don’t you worry.’

  ‘For God’s sake what do you mean? Can’t he walk? Where is he? Is he hurt? Is that what you mean? Open up, you idiot?’

  ‘’Ere! ’Oo the ’ell you callin’ a idjit?’ He started up bellicosely, to calm down as Janet laid pleading hands on his arm.

  ‘Please say where he is, and that he is safe,’ the girl pleaded.

  ‘Corse I will, Miss. No, ’e ain’t ’urt. ’E’s all right. Least ’e was when I sees ’im. But ’e’s boozed.’

  ‘Drunk?’

  ‘I should say. ’E nearly got to shootin’ me.’

  ‘Oh, I’m glad he didn’t,’ Janet said. ‘But where is he, Mister?’

  ‘A mile along the road towards town. It’s the second turnin’ to the right. There’s a little country pub. The Blue . . . The Blue somefink it’s called. ’E’s there, an’ if ’e ain’t as drunk as a lord, ’e’s sobered considerable since I seen ’im.’

  ‘Bingen! Drunk! Look here . . . what’s your name?’

  ‘Rhodes, captain. Dusty Rhodes.’

  ‘Oh. We’ll go straight away and fetch him,’ Janet cried excitedly. ‘At once, won’t we, Garry?’

  ‘I think I’ll have something to eat first,’ I told her. ‘Get some of that meat on a bit of the bread and a cup of tea. Then I’ll go after him.’

  ‘Garry! To stop and eat when he might want you!’ Janet spoke the words reproachfully.

  ‘Three minutes won’t make any difference,’ I answered sharply. ‘And I’ll be able to deal with him better than if I’m half-starved.’

  ‘Oh, Garry. I’m sorry. I spoke without thinking.’

  ‘Will you stop here and see after the girl?’ I asked Rhodes.

  ‘Oh! Let me come and help bring him back,’ Janet interjected quickly. ‘Perhaps, if he doesn’t want to come, I’ll be able to persuade him.’

  ‘No. It’ll be better for me to go alone. If I have to look after Bingen, I shouldn’t want you on my hands as well, should I?’ I told her, and then turned to Rhodes, who had listened interestedly to Janet’s appeal to be allowed to accompany me. Too interestedly I thought. I asked him, ‘Will you stop here and look after her until I get back, Rhodes?’

  ‘Corse I will. I always was a one to look after the ladies.’ Dusty Rhodes leered, in a manner supposed to be ingratiating, towards Janet. ‘Me an’ ’er’ll get on together like a ’ouse afire.’

  ‘That shouldn’t be difficult with this deviltry going on all over the country; but, Rhodes . . . Behave yourself. Savvy?’

  ‘Aw! Don’t you worry, captain. Trust me.’ Dusty grinned at Janet, and I felt less then ever like leaving them together. ‘The little gal’ll be safe enough with me, captain.’

  ‘You’d better see that she is,’ I told him curtly, and to Janet said, ‘Janet, I really don’t see how I can take you with me. It’s better for you to stay here with Rhodes. You’ll be all right, won’t you?’

  ‘Of course I will,’ she smiled reassuringly, and whispered as she accompanied me to the door, ‘Don’t worry about him. I can see after myself. Don’t be too long, and be sure to bring Bingen back safely. Tell him I want him. Goodbye, Garry.’

  ‘Shan’t be long. Cheerio, Janet.’

  Climbing out of the valley, I halted on the hill to wave down a farewell to the cottage, and set off with a high heart down the dusty road towards the inn where I would find Bingen. Hastening, I forgot even to glance up at the sky, ignoring any possible return of Vampires, with my thoughts fixed upon Bingen and the safety of Janet. I was worried at having to leave here with Rhodes, for a more unprepossessing scoundrel I had never seen, despite the fact of him having undoubtedly saved my life. I broke into a jog-trot the quicker to get back to Janet.

  By the cross-roads where the way to Bingen’s inn turned off to the right, a few villas were scattered around, and they were so little burned that I resolved, hurrying past, to investigate them at the first opportunity, for now, with the arrival on the scene of Mister Dusty Rhodes, I little doubted others had escaped from the general destruction. I wondered how Janet was faring with him, and, wondering, quickened my footsteps. But I felt she was capable of holding her own against even such a ruffian as Rhodes. Mounting a rise, I saw, in the distance, a signboard swinging from the top of a tall post. That would be the inn. I called out, running towards it.

  ‘Bingen! Bingen! You anywhere about? Bingen!’

  The shout reverberated noisily down the road, unanswered.

  Standing some way back, with a garden fronting it, the inn was a small country beerhouse of the usual type, and though woodwork was burned and roof was gone the walls held still bar, beer engines, and bottles, some intact, fallen to the floor from burned shelves. The charred sign proclaimed it to be The Blue Anchor. But of Bingen there was no trace. I called again.

  ‘Bingen! Bingen!’

  Ashes lifted about my feet as I entered the place, strode through three rooms to the yard, where lay four bodies which had evidently been flung out recently. That meant someone had been there since the fire. I searched more hopefully. There were chickens alive in a run nclosed with wire netting! They had been saved from the holocaust evidently by the fact that their run had been built from the discarded steel stanchions of some building. The intersecting wire-netting sagged where the Vampires had pressed, but it had withstood the strain. I threw maize to them from a sack in the outhoouse. Later, we would be glad of those chickens. I would fetch them.

  ‘Bingen! Bingen!’

  It was impossible he could be hidden anywhere, for I had gone through the place again and again. I returned dispiritedly through the bar to the road, staring up and down, calling half-heartedly.

  There was nothing else for me to do except go back to the cottage. With Janet alone with Rhodes I dared not set off to search about haphazardly. And, so thinking, I glanced down as I traced in the dust with the toe of my boot to see trap-doors in the flagged stones close by the inn wall. A cellar! Why hadn’t I thought of that before? I tried to prise them open, thinking Bingen could not be down there. He would have heard me call, answered. I stamped and hammered, shouting.

  Either from obstinacy or a determination to be able to return and tell Janet the place had been searched thoroughly, I went through the bar again to the outhouse in search of some tool which would enable me to burst open the doors, and returned with a felling axe. For a while the doors resisted my efforts, then with a crash they dropped into the cellar.

  With his back against a barrel from which oozed beer dripping to the floor, Bingen sat, drunkenly asleep.

  Shaking did not waken him, and it was not until I got a great leathern bottle, filled it with beer, and doused him that he regained consciousness, woke fighting, yelling.

  ‘Get hold of yourself, dopey,’ I entreated, shaking him roughly until he recognized me. ‘Sober up! Janet’s alone in the hills with some tough I don’t trust. Come along, Bingen. Snap out of it. We’ve got to get back to her quickly.’

  He peered blearily, pushing me away at first, and then drunken tears flowed from his eyes. Sulkily he sat ignoring my attempts to rouse him.

  ‘Aw! I can’t come back and face her again. Not after making a fool of myself like I did,’ he growled at last. ‘You go back and tell her you couldn’t find me.’

  ‘Fool of yourself be cursed. She understands as well as I do. It was only a bad break for you that you cracked instead of me. I did as near as damn it. Come on. Forget it. Jump up, and we’ll get back before anything happens to Janet.’

  ‘no. I’m not coming. Get out of here, and leave me in peace.’

  ‘Leave you in drink, you drunken swab. Now, look here, Bingen. What’s it going to be? You’re coming with me even if I have to crack you under the jaw an
d carry you back. What’s it going to be? Carried back unconscious—or walk back like you are—half conscious?’

  ‘You mean both of you want me to come back?’

  ‘What the hell d’you think I’m arguing down here for, you silly chump?’

  ‘Oh! All right then. Give me a chance to freshen up a bit.’ Bingen pulled himself to his feet. ‘There’s water up there. I’ll have a bit of a wash.’

  ‘Don’t want to worry about that now. We’ll have a drink, though. You can do with one, I’ll be bound. And I’ve got dust in my throat.’

  Bingen filled the leather bottle again and we drank heartily.

  ‘Gosh, Bingen, you smell like a brewery.’

  ‘Well, why the devil did you throw that beer over me?’

  ‘Oh, it isn’t that I’m smelling. That was only a tiny drop in the ocean. What have you been doing with yourself, and why didn’t you come after us? You knew where we were going.’

  ‘Oh, hell, don’t let’s talk about it. You know why I didn’t come. What’s the place like where you are? What you wanted?’

  ‘The very thing. We’ll be there in an hour; come along.’

  ‘Steady on. Not too fast.’ Bingen hurried, and I slowed down to walk with him. ‘What’s this other chap you say is with Janet? Where’d he come from?’

  ‘Some tramp, boozer. Oh, no offence. I mean this bloke’s a spirit mopper. Nearly in the D.T.s, I think. I don’t believe he knows anything’s happened. Not sure whether or no it isn’t just the drink again like it was the last time. Necks neat brandy by the bottleful.’

  ‘Likely sort of customer. How did you come to pal up with him?’

  ‘He saved my life. Pulled me out of a well.’

  ‘A what?’

  ‘A well. Place where you get water.’

  ‘How the hell did you get in there?’

  ‘Oh, you’ll hear about that later on. You weren’t the only one who made a fool of himself. Come on.’