by Amy Cross
"Something's wrong," he says as more and more Tenderlings appear outside. "Tenderlings are solitary creatures. They don't hunt in packs like this. They're dumb, solitary creatures. I've never even seen two together before..." By now, there must be twenty of the things outside, all trying to get into the diner, and more are appearing at the window every second.
"Where's Benjamin?" I ask, starting to feel as if we're seriously outnumbered.
"He's outside somewhere," Todd says.
"By any chance, does he have a flamethrower?"
"What the hell's going on?" Abby says, turning to me. "What the fuck have you got me into? Who are you people?"
"It's okay," Todd says. "There can't be that many of them. Just wait until I give the signal, and then run out through the back door".
"Run?" I say. "Is that your big idea? Is that what years of being a Watcher have taught you to do?"
"What's a Watcher?" Abby asks.
"You want to stay in here?" he asks, just as one of the Tenderlings opens its mouth and bites straight through the window, smashing the glass. Realizing that the technique worked, the others start doing the same.
"Now!" Todd shouts. The three of us turn and run, making our way through to the diner's kitchen and straight out the back door. As we go, a Tenderling appears straight in front of us; without thinking, I push it out of the way, feeling its slimy red body against my hands. We run a few meters from the diner and then Abigail trips and falls; her milkshake falls to the ground and the glass breaks. I help her up, glancing back and seeing that the Tenderlings are literally swarming all over the diner, tearing the building apart. It's as if they haven't noticed that we've escaped yet. Moments later, the waitress comes running out the front door, with three or four of the creatures hanging onto her. She doesn't get far before she falls to the ground and the Tenderlings start ripping chunks of flesh from her body.
"This isn't right," Todd says. "This isn't how Tenderlings behave".
"Over here!" shouts a voice in the distance. I turn to see that Benjamin has the van waiting for us, with the engine running.
"Come on!" Todd says, grabbing Abby and pulling her along with him. He doesn't even look back to make sure I'm okay, which I guess shows how his priorities are set. I look over at the diner just as one corner of the roof collapses. There must be two or three hundred Tenderlings, all of them literally tearing the place apart. Suddenly one of them looks over at me and screams. The others all look as well, which I guess means they've finally noticed we got out of the building. They start racing in my direction. I turn and run after Todd and Abby.
"Move!" shouts Benjamin. I've never heard him sound so agitated before. He's usually so cool and calm.
"Get in the van!" Todd shouts, grabbing Abigail and literally throwing her into the back, before pulling me inside as well. Benjamin floors the pedal and we accelerate across the car park, as Todd struggles to close the door. At the last moment, a solitary Tenderling manages to jump towards us, grabbing hold of the seat next to me. Staring at me with its hideous yellow eyes, it lets out a snarl and bares its rows of sharp little fangs. Before I have a chance to react, Todd swings a punch that knocks the creature down; he quickly follows this up by kicking it in the head. The Tenderling falls out of the van and there's a crunch as the rear wheel crushes it. Todd finally gets the door shut. "Are you okay?" he asks, turning to me.
"I'm fine," I say, still trying to catch my breath. I look over at Abby. She's curled up in the corner of the van, her eyes squeezed tight shut, rocking back and forth. I turn back to Todd. "But she's not".
Chapter Nine
I wake up in a strange, dark place. For a moment, I forget all the stuff that happened and I feel like maybe I'm back at home, sleeping in my old bed. Gradually, however, the truth settles in my mind, and I remember everything that happened back at the diner. Sitting up, I look around and see that I'm in a dark, bare room with no windows. The air is very still, as if I'm underground. There's no furniture, other than the bed, and on the other side of the room there's an opening that looks as if it's been carved out of solid rock.
"Hey," says a voice from the corner. Startled, I look over and see that Shelley is sitting on the floor. She gets up, groaning a little with the effort, and then comes over to me. "How are you feeling?"
I stare at her, and it takes a moment before I remember that Benjamin took the braces out of my mouth and I can talk. "Fine," I say. Damn, I'm still not used to my voice. "Fine," I say again. I need to work on this speaking business. Right now, I really don't like my voice at all.
"Well that's bullshit," Shelley says, sitting on the end of the bed. "Don't bullshit a bullshitter. You can't possibly be fine, not after all the crap you've been through. How are you really?"
I pause for a moment. "What happened?" I ask. "Those things at the diner..."
"Apparently they're called Tenderlings," Shelley says. "According to Todd, they're solitary creatures that rarely display overt aggression, so... go figure. They definitely seemed to be displaying overt aggression last night".
"Are they still after us?" I ask.
"They can't get us down here".
I look around the room again. "Where are we?" I say.
"Dedston," she replies. "Well, technically we're underneath Dedston". She smiles awkwardly. "Believe it or not, Dedston is the town where your Mom and I grew up. It's where everything happened, back in the day".
I take a deep breath. "Is it a nice place?" I ask.
"No," she says. "No, it's a shit-hole".
"Then why are we here?" I say. "Is..." I pause. I'm almost afraid to ask the next question. "Is my father here?"
She pauses for a moment. "Yeah," she says eventually.
"Can I meet him?"
She nods.
I stare at her. "Can I meet him now?"
She stands up. "I guess so".
Getting out of bed, I find that I'm still wearing the same clothes I wore when we left New Mexico. The only difference is that there seems to be a stain on my shoulder from where the milkshake got spilled. I should probably change, but right now I just want to go and meet Patrick. "I'm ready," I say, even though I don't think I'll ever be truly ready for this moment.
"Don't you want to clean up first?" Shelley says. "There are showers here".
"I just want to meet him," I tell her.
"Come on, then," she says, leading me out of the room. We walk along a dark corridor. It's weird down here, as if we're in some type of cave system. "Your Dad doesn't speak," Shelley reminds me, "so don't expect a great conversation. He's also... well, he's a little moody".
"Do you know him well?" I ask.
"Not really," she replies. "I met him a few times, years ago. He's not exactly the life and soul of a party". There's tension in her voice, as if she doesn't really want to be talking about him. We reach another door and she turns to me. "Go in there. Todd and Benjamin will take you the rest of the way".
"Aren't you coming?" I ask. For some reason, I want Shelley with me. She seems kind, whereas Benjamin and Todd put me on edge a little.
"You don't need me there," she says.
I stare at her for a moment ."What's wrong?" I ask. "Don't you like my Dad?"
She pauses, clearly feeling uncomfortable. "I don't want to see him right now," she says. "Is that okay?"
"Please?" I reply. "I'd really like it if you come?"
She shakes her head. "I can't".
"Why?" I ask. "What did he do?"
She sighs. "Nothing," she says, pushing the door open. "I'll come with you". We walk into a large room, where Benjamin and Todd are sitting at a table. They seem to be going over a bunch of papers. On the other side of the room, there are some technicians sitting at banks of computers. Suddenly I feel like I've stepped into some high-tech secret world.
"Hey," Todd says, getting up and coming over to me. "How are you feeling today?"
"I'm fine," I say.
"Great," he replies, smiling. "I guess..." He p
auses for a moment. "I guess you want to meet your Dad, huh?"
I swallow hard. "I guess".
"So where is he?" Shelley asks. She seems really nervous, as if she desperately doesn't want to be here.
"He's in the holding cell," Todd says.
"The what?" Shelley says.
"There's something you need to know about your Dad," Todd says, turning to me. "He's not... Well, he's not the kind of guy who's always good to be around. He's a bit of a loner and he -"
"You're holding him prisoner?" Shelley asks. "How the fuck did you manage that?"
Todd sighs. "We recently had an opportunity to confine Patrick," he says. "We took that opportunity. It's for the best".
I stare at him for a moment. "Wait a minute," I say, trying to work out exactly what's going on. "You bring me all this way to meet my father, and you conveniently forget to mention until the last moment that you're holding him as a prisoner?"
"There's a lot we have to tell you about your father," Todd continues. "He's not like the rest of us. He's old. In fact, he's kind of ancient. He's from an old species that died off, and now he's the last of his kind".
My first instinct is to turn and run. These people sound crazy, but at the same time I feel as if something is starting to make sense. I hear that noise in my head again; the noise that used to drive me crazy, the sound of a powerful heartbeat that's stronger and wilder than anything I've ever heard anywhere else. "What is he?" I ask, feeling my hands start to tremble.
"Come with me," Benjamin says, walking over to a door at the far end of the room. "You can see for yourself".
"No, tell me," I say, refusing to go with him.
"It's easier if you just see," he replies.
"He's a vampire," Shelley says.
I turn to her. "He's what?"
"He's a vampire," she says again. "He's the only vampire left in the whole world".
"It's true," Todd says. "He doesn't turn into a bat. He doesn't live in a coffin. He doesn't sparkle. But he's a vampire. A real, live vampire".
I run my tongue against the two sharp teeth near the front of my mouth. "My father's a vampire?" I say, trying not to panic. "What does that make me?"
"We don't know yet," Benjamin says. "You're not a vampire, at least not in the conventional sense. But you're not completely human, either. You're somewhere in-between".
I take a deep breath, trying to stay calm. Is this why I've always felt so different and weird? Is this why people like Donna always used to pick on me? "I want to see him," I say, even though there's a part of me that wants to turn and run away from this place and never stop.
"I'll wait here," Shelley says, taking a step back.
"No!" I say, turning to her. "You've got to come with me!"
"Shelley should wait," Todd says.
"If Shelley doesn't go through that door," I say firmly, "then I'm not going through either".
"Shelley can come," Benjamin says. "That is, if Shelley wants to come".
"Please," I say, turning to her. "I need you to be in there with me".
"Okay," she replies, even though I can see that she really, really doesn't want to see my father again. I reach out and take her hand, and we walk together across the room until we're standing with Benjamin.
"Todd," Shelley says, turning back to him, "are you coming?"
He shakes his head. "I don't want to see him again".
"This might be very difficult for you," Benjamin says to me. "Please remember that your father is a very strong individual. It takes great effort to keep him in a place like this, but we wouldn't restrain him if we didn't feel that it's absolutely necessary. We couldn't let him remain loose. He's too dangerous".
"You make him sound bad," I reply, trying not to let them see how scared I am. "You make it sound like he's some kind of killer, or a monster".
"He's just different," Benjamin continues. "The way he sees the world is different to the way I see the world, or the way any human sees the world. But... There's only one person left on the whole planet who might understand how Patrick thinks". He pauses. "That's you, Abigail. Your father is the last of his species, but you're his daughter so, in some ways, you're like him. Not the same, but very similar. Do you understand?"
"Let me see him," I say. My heart is racing so fast, I feel like it might burst out of my chest at any moment.
Benjamin reaches down and unlocks the door. "Don't be scared," he says. "There's no way he can hurt anyone. And this is as much for his own good as for ours. He's not in very much pain".
"Why would he want to hurt me?" I ask.
"Not you," Shelley says. "The rest of us".
I look into the dark room, but I can't see anything.
"Go ahead," Benjamin says. I step past him, and I immediately feel as if I can sense a presence nearby. Somewhere in the dark, something is breathing slowly and harshly. It almost sounds as if there's a wounded animal in here. More powerful than the sound, though, is the sensation in my head. It's hard to describe what it's like, but it's as if I can feel his heartbeat in my own body, beating alongside my own; it's as if there's this extremely strong and forceful presence that's entering my body, perhaps even becoming part of me. As I step further into the room, I feel as if - in some strange way - I actually belong here. It's the weirdest thing, but for the first time in my life, I feel like I'm where I should be, even if I'm terrified at the same time.
"Where is he?" I ask.
"I'll turn on the light," Benjamin says. Moments later, a fluorescent light flickers on.
"Oh shit," Shelley says behind me.
"It's not as bad as it looks," Benjamin continues. "Just remember that, and stay calm"
I stare, unable to comprehend quite what I'm seeing. In the middle of the large room, there's a huge metal dome, and sticking out from the dome there's a big metal spike. The spike runs straight over to the far wall, where there's a man hanging from metal handcuffs. He looks to be barely conscious, and his face seems old and young at the same time; he's wearing dark clothes, but the large spike is running straight through his chest and pinning him to the wall.
"What have you done to him?" Shelley asks.
"When Patrick is injured," Benjamin explains, "he has the ability to heal his body, but this healing process requires time and energy. The only way we can keep him here is to ensure that he's constantly hurt, so that all his energy is continually directed towards the healing process. In that way, he doesn't have the strength to break his shackles and escape. The spear retracts and re-pierces him every six hours".
I walk across the room, until I'm just a few paces from him. "Dad?" I say, my voice sounding so small in this large room. I stare up at him, and it's hard to believe that someone could still be alive after this was done to them. Blood is dripping from the wound in his chest, and he looks so pale.
"He won't be able to hear you," Benjamin says. "He's not strong enough to remain conscious while he's healing like this".
Slowly, however, Patrick starts to open his eyes slightly, and he stares straight at me. I feel a cold shiver run through my body as I realize that I'm finally face to face with my father. My real father.
Book 2:
Quisling
Prologue
Near Dedston, 16 years ago.
The old woman carries a pot of hot water across from the fire, setting it down next to the girl. It's dark in the cave, and there's a blizzard blowing outside, but at least the fire is keeping them a little warm. After dipping the cloth into the water, the old woman wrings it out and then applies it to the girl's forehead. The birth is clearly going to be difficult, and the old woman worries that the mother might not survive. She knows, though, that the child is the priority. If she has to make a choice between mother and child, she must choose to save the child. Were she to do otherwise, she would certainly be killed.
Glancing over her shoulder, she sees her master standing nearby, lurking in the shadows. He refuses to come close, yet at the same time he insists on b
eing here. His presence makes the old woman a little nervous, and she'd much prefer it if he would just go away for a while. Still, she understands his determination to make sure that everything is okay. After all, he's spent so long preparing for this moment. After years and years of putting the pieces in place, Patrick is about to get the child he always wanted. It's just a shame it had to happen this way.
Suddenly, with no warning, the girl starts to moan. She's been in labor for almost a day now, struggling to get the child out of her body. In a modern hospital, she would long ago have been given a C-Section, but out here in the wilderness there's no option but to wait and hope. The old woman has told Patrick, over and over again, that he should allow Sophie to be seen by a proper doctor, but Patrick is notoriously stubborn and he believes - rightly or wrongly - that ultimately the child will be born normally. As for Sophie, he seems to show little or no interest. As far as the old woman can tell, Patrick sees Sophie as nothing more than a receptacle for his child's development.
"It'll be over soon," the old woman says, removing the towel from Sophie's forehead. "Just wait," she continues. "You'll be fine".
Sophie starts to strain once again. Four or five times in the past twenty-four hours, it has seemed that she's ready to give birth; each time, however, it turns out to be a false alarm. It's almost as if the child has no desire to ever come out into the real world, preferring instead to remain inside Sophie and feed off her body like a parasite. If the situation isn't remedied soon, Sophie will die and the child's life will be in even greater danger. The old woman knows, too, that she will face Patrick's wrath if the birthing goes wrong. The lives of many people are on the line tonight.
Finally, however, the child seems to be moving into the birthing canal. The old woman, who has delivered many children in the past, tells Sophie to push. As Sophie screams, the child's head emerges. The old woman gently turns the child, hoping to ensure a smoother delivery. Within a few minutes the shoulders, too, are out, and the child begins to cry. The old woman tells Sophie to push one final time, and the child slips out, still attached to its mother via the umbilical cord. Grabbing a pair of scissors, the old woman carefully cuts the cord before using a clamp to seal it shut. She carried the screaming infant over to a prepared towel.
