"It's going to be hard, getting to your house," Evan said, "looking like we do."
"Your hire car?" I began tentatively.
"In the wrecker's yard by now, I imagine."
"Yes," agreed Abe in his flat, tired voice, "I had to tear things off it to get out, and to get Evan. It is all smashed. Like us."
His moping was unhelpful and therefore irritating. "There are other options."
Evan's enquiring look at my sudden animation made me more irked, since I couldn't actually think of any.
And then I realised that there was another option. Richmond had more than its fair share of young, child-free, professional couples. And, being summer, those couples liked to take holidays after the kids returned to school. Which meant there must be a handful of temporarily empty houses somewhere in this neighbourhood.
Gary helped me to search the nearest streets until we found an old worker's cottage, renovated to charming perfection and, according to Gary's senses, empty and dog-free. He had recovered enough to climb onto the roof and pry a skylight open. A short while later he opened a side window. Abe and Evan were beckoned out of the shadows where they waited and we clambered inside.
I'd have felt bad about it, but we weren't planning to steal anything. Well, anything important. And ours was the greater need.
We took turns to shower, washing away blood and grime. Evan went first, while I poked in the wardrobe and found some clothes that would suffice. I found a clean button-up shirt for Abe, a too-short tracksuit for Evan, and a too-tight T-shirt to replace Gary's bloodstained gear. For myself, a blue T-shirt would have to do. I hoped it wasn't somebody's favourite.
My upper arm was more mended that it had a right to be. In the kitchen I got Gary to cut my shirt off that shoulder with the scissors we found, while Evan and Abe got a better view of their week's handiwork. Bruises. Flesh wounds. Blood-smeared skin and blood soaked clothes. I didn't know why I wasn't angrier with them, though I did find a little vengeful satisfaction in their shamed expressions.
Getting dressed again after my shower was painful but not impossible. On rejoining the miserable crew in the kitchen, Evan stuffed all our tattered and bloody clothes inside a sports bag he had found. He'd cleaned the surfaces of dirt, blood, fingerprints. He'd even wiped down the pile of plastic Australian banknotes he'd left in the middle of the kitchen table as compensation. A fine bunch of desperados we made.
In our ill-fitting plunder, Abe, Evan and I climbed out the side window. We waited in the garden's leafy shadows while Gary relocked the window and exited via the skylight. Whatever injuries he'd sustained in the church seemed not to be bothering him, and he jumped lightly down from the roof.
We made our way to the tram line on Bridge Road, far from the Burnley train station and the police who were doubtless doing the rounds there. We stepped onto the last eastward tram of the evening, heading away from the city centre. One of the pluses of looking like a bunch of unemployed layabouts was that everyone else on the tram gave us a wide berth.
Conversation, unsurprisingly, lagged. We sat on facing seats - me beside Gary, Evan beside Abe - and tried not to look at each other. When the silence passed beyond strained and grew exquisitely painful, I broke.
"I don't even know why we're helping you," I addressed Evan darkly.
"Neither do I. You have no reason." The sadness in his face left me nowhere to go.
"It has to stop," said Gary sharply, "And we need to keep Magdalene, Smith and the police all out of it until it's over, or it'll be a worse mess than it already is."
Evan studied his knuckles, as though chided. Abe, who had been staring vacantly out of the window, regarded Gary pensively.
"Will it hurt?" he asked.
"Yeah. Sorry." Gary actually sounded it, too. "The older you are, the longer it takes to die. If you have some of that stuff you've been injecting into people it might make it faster."
"We haven't any left," said Evan hollowly, "We had to clear out the holiday house and hide the gear. I never got a chance to make any more."
My hand rested on the flap of my satchel. "I've got a syringe in my bag. Abe dropped it when he came after us tonight. I picked it up. In case."
"I only wanted to make him talk to me."
Our weird conversation wound down as we ran out of things to say. The tram sped on through the night in its own dedicated lane, hurtling past the traffic and the offices along the suburban highway. We alighted at a large, bare intersection near the end of the line and walked up the hill towards Glen Waverley.
Evan was limping though clearly in better shape than he'd looked an hour ago. Abe, on the other hand, looked worse. Physically there was no deterioration, although his arm and foot were still bizarrely twisted. It was more that he was strangely deflated. He reminded me of Alberto. That's what it looks like to give up, I thought.
We were approaching Gary's house from the opposite direction to that which I usually took from the train station. It seemed to take longer. Perhaps it was the company. The house had its usual frozen-in-time air. Gary fished his keys out of his pocket as we approached the door.
"Go around the side," he said firmly to Abe, "or over the top. I'll meet you out the back."
Evan made no protest at the very clear indication that Abe was not invited into Gary's home. I thought it would be a near thing if he let Evan in, but after a moment's hesitation, Gary stepped inside, let me through then waited with a haughty expression. Evan swallowed, then meekly followed us into the hall.
"Take him to the backyard," Gary instructed me. "Don't let him touch anything. I have to get the shed keys." Gary tramped to his room and I led Evan down the corridor into the kitchen.
"We saved lives too, you know," Evan said, a hint of defiance in his tone. "It hasn't been a complete waste. Over the centuries my family has eliminated real killers. Other people got to live because of what generations of my family have sacrificed."
"I don't doubt it," I said. "But we're not talking about the past any more." A sharp rap on the back door indicated Abe's impatience, and I released the deadlock and opened the door. "Hold your horses…"
The door swung quickly open, shoved from the other side, and there stood not Abe, but Mundy. He was smiling. It wasn't pleasant.
Evan flinched. I stood at the doorway, immobile, wondering where Abe was. I hadn't heard any commotion, which meant either that Abe was still making his way across the roof or that Mundy had already despatched him with disturbing efficiency. Mundy was leaning on the door jamb, on his remaining hand. The other arm he held close to his side.
A footfall in the kitchen arrested Mundy's piercing eye. "Hooper. I see that you gather fools around you. They do not render you less foolish."
"What are you doing here?" Gary made no attempt to disguise the fact he was fed up to the teeth with every damn thing happening this evening. Still, it was probably not the best time to antagonise Mundy.
"You can't possibly imagine that you're welcome here," I said pointedly. I've never been good at picking my moments either and, like Gary, I was heartily sick of this entire night.
Mundy's eyes narrowed. "I hear the hunters were tracking your pet in order to locate you, Hooper." Mundy's eye raked over Evan and me. "And I am wondering why they wanted you so particularly. Especially considering the boy found you. Before he fell."
Did Mundy think that the fall had been the end of Abe?
"How do you know what happened at the Diamond?" I challenged.
"Magdalene is failing to keep me abreast," Mundy scowled, "but I have other sources."
"One being the barman at the club in question, I take it." The same one who had alerted Magdalene to our presence, I assumed. Mr Bartender was apparently doing his best to keep in good with both of Melbourne's vampiric ringleaders. Perhaps he hadn't yet noticed that Magdalene was deliberately sidelining Mundy.
Mundy gave me a cold look.
"It doesn't matter," said Gary.
"It matters that they sought you
out, above the rest of us," said Mundy darkly. He glared at Evan. "What is it you want from this… infant?" The scorn made my spine stiffen with indignation on Gary's behalf.
Evan swallowed hard, his eyes wide, and I thought it was taking a huge effort for him to not look past Mundy into the back yard to see what had happened to Abe. If Abe was still out there, he might be the only escape option we had.
"They heard I might be able to give them some tips," said Gary, stepping up behind us so that Evan and I were hemmed between the two of them. "Seeing as how you've trained me to the work so well."
Evan shot a dubious look at Gary. I remembered we hadn't exactly explained that part.
Mundy's voice dropped, low and silky and utterly dangerous. "Do you plan to join them, then?"
"Don't be stupid," Gary said, more injudiciously than everything else combined.
"Then what is this hunter doing in your house?"
"I've got it under control, Mundy."
"That must be a refreshing change of direction for you, Hooper."
"Yeah. It is."
Mundy grinned savagely. "You've had blood in you tonight, boy."
Gary shifted tensely, then lifted his head. "It's none of your business, Mundy. I told you, I've got it all under control. And while I'm at it, I don't do things for you anymore." A muscle twitched in his cheek. "You can go to hell."
"Some would say that was already guaranteed."
"So are you going to shove off or not?"
An ugly, speculative gleam came into Mundy's eye. "I think… not."
And despite the fact that we had backed into the kitchen as far as we could go with Gary blocking the way, Mundy lunged past the threshold, grabbed Evan by the shirtfront and hauled him outside.
Evan went down onto the concreted yard with a grunt of pain. Mundy was on him before he could right himself. One-handed, Mundy lifted Evan up, propelling him across the yard until he thudded into the trunk of the jacaranda tree.
Mundy pinned Evan there with fist and teeth, and bit down hard into Evan's throat.
Evan's shout died and his eyes were huge with terror and despair. For one panicked moment I was rooted to the spot. Then I was through the door, aiming to pull Mundy off him with my bare hands. Not that I thought it would work, but the only other option was to do nothing.
"Evan!" The angry cry came from above.
My way was suddenly barred by Abe's body hurtling to the yard from the rooftop. He staggered on his wonky foot, righted himself and leapt onto Mundy's back like a crazed thing. Abe snaked an arm around Mundy's throat and wrenched, forcing Mundy to release Evan and to scrabble at his assailant.
Evan fell to his knees, hand to the wound in his throat, trying to stem the bleeding. I ran to him, angled his head to inspect the damage. A clean bite. Deep but not terminal. The bleeding slowed as I watched.
While I examined his fangwork, Mundy had switched targets, twisting his body and using his stump in an attempt to repel Abe. Abe, without another weapon to hand, tried to bite Mundy.
Mundy strained his head away from Abe's teeth. He staggered this way and that, Abe still clinging to his torso, then gathered his strength and ground Abe against the tree trunk.
Mundy shoved his hand into the branches, wrapped his hand around one and wrested a short limb free. Then, with a triumphant shout, he stabbed the jagged end of it into Abe's side.
Abe yelled, but did not let go.
"No!" Evan found his feet, lurched away from me and lunged at them both. He grabbed Mundy by the stump-arm. He might as well have been pulling at a column of stone for all the attention Mundy paid.
Gary charged into the fray, trying to force Mundy and Abe apart and failing utterly to make headway. "No. Mundy. Jeez. It's under control. Let him go." Mundy refused to budge. "Mundy, you're going to piss off my neighbours. They're going to call the cops if you don't…"
Light spilled over the fence from the neighbour's back yard as a door opened. A young man's voice called out, "Mr Hooper, is that you?"
Everything under the jacaranda tree stopped cold. Abe, hanging tight onto Mundy and grimacing in pain, dug in his nails. Mundy held the makeshift stake motionless in his side. Evan and Gary hung on to either side of Mundy, not letting go, not moving. Everybody cast a pensive look at the fence. The police were the last thing any of us wanted.
"Um, yeah Jamie," said Gary into the incriminating silence, "it's me."
"What's going on over there?"
"Nothing really. I'm watching television."
"That's the television?"
"Um. Yes." Which would have sounded better without the hesitation and the upward inflection. "I'll go turn it down now." Gary didn't move. Nor did anyone else.
"It doesn't sound like it's on TV," Jamie insisted. "Are you sure there isn't a problem? It sounds like you're having all kinds of trouble over there."
Not half as much trouble as it looks like, from where I'm standing. Any minute now, Jamie was going to look over the fence and see a scene that simply could not be explained.
I knew Jamie, slightly. We nodded hello sometimes when I visited Gary. A little younger than me, he'd grown up with Gary as his neighbour, and had developed a certain caution. Gary said they used to talk more, until Jamie had twigged to the fact that Gary didn't get any older. Whatever conclusions Jamie had reached on the subject were unknown. I was banking on him being like everybody else in the world. Happy to take whatever half-arsed explanation on offer would give him an excuse to not get involved with the weirdness. Not wanting to know provided a natural defence.
"Hi Jamie," I called out. "It's me, Lissa. We bought Gary a new sound system today. We just finished working out how to set it up and thought we'd give it a run. Looks like it's too loud."
"Oh, Lissa, hi," Jamie's tone was doubtful. "What are you watching? Fight Club?"
"Yeah," I made myself laugh. "Realistic, isn't it?"
Jamie laughed too. "Bloody oath, it is."
Gary gave me a grateful nod. "We'll turn it down, Jamie."
"That'd be good. Only my mum's trying to get some sleep."
"Um. Sorry. Won't happen again."
"Ta, Mr Hooper."
"No worries."
We all held still a moment longer while Jamie's back door closed. The light clicked off. We were left in darkness for one beat; two.
Then the struggle was on again, only this time silent and almost still. Abe hissed faintly in pain, shifted his hands in an attempt to get at Mundy's eyes. Mundy bit the nearest hand, his eyes gleaming, while he shoved the stake into Abe's ribs, trying to work it further in.
The interruption, however, had short-circuited my panic-attack and given me space to remember my secret weapon.
Unslinging my satchel, I dumped its contents on the ground and scrabbled through the jumble for the syringe I had almost forgotten was there. I seized it. Tore the cork off the tip of the needle with my teeth. Leapt up with it in my hand and into the narrow gap between Evan, Gary and Abe. Stabbed the needle into Mundy's shoulder and jammed the plunger home in a swift movement.
Mundy growled and convulsed as the drug entered his body, the violent motion knocking Evan aside. In the next movement Mundy let go of the stake to lash out at me. His knuckles caught me in the stomach. I crumpled, winded, to the concrete. Somewhere in the melee, Abe tumbled down as well.
I gulped for air and flinched as Mundy lunged at me. Blood streamed from his open mouth, strung between his bared teeth, and I tried to cover my head with my arms before his body hammered into mine.
It didn't, and I opened a cautious eye to see Mundy vanishing sideways under a blur of colour as Gary block-tackled him to the ground. Evan, a darker, slower form, threw himself on top of the struggling pile of vampires.
All of this, in near silence. Gary once told me what a terrible fighter he was, having been picked on at school on a regular basis, back in the day. He hadn't learned a thing since then. He sat on top of Mundy, swinging wild punches at Mundy's head and chest t
hat rarely landed properly and certainly caused little or no damage when they did. Only the fact that Mundy now had heroin screwing with his metabolism gave Gary any advantage at all, but he had no idea how to use it.
Evan looked around the yard for a weapon. He snatched up a broom leaning against the wall, broke it across his knee - pausing to hiss a curse through his teeth at the pain - then wrapped his bony hands around one end and jabbed it fiercely at Mundy.
Mundy heaved one way, then the other, to dodge the stake. In a frantic, last ditch effort, he dislodged Gary and leapt for the roof. He landed, slipped, jammed his feet against the guttering, his hand and stump into the roof tiles, got a better grip, stood and ran for his pathetic life.
It was beautiful to watch.
Gary, teeth bared, looked like he was going to give chase.
"Leave him," Evan said.
"Like hell," Gary began fiercely, then caught a glimpse of me being startled by his teeth and rage, and the anger fell away. He looked, instead, dismayed and embarrassed.
"You okay?" he asked me.
"Winded, that's all. You?"
"Fine. Here," he held out his hand and helped me up.
A faint, suppressed whimper brought us back to Abe. Evan had returned to crouch at Abe's side. Abe's hands were wrapped around the jacaranda branch as he tried to shove it further into the wound. Each movement made Abe wince.
"Help, me." Push. Gasp. "It's stuck."
"No," the word a near-sob. "No."
Abe stopped struggling with it and laid a dead-white hand over Evan's limp, helpless ones. "Please."
"It doesn't have to end here."
"No. And yet..." Abe's eyes were half closed and I thought I could see, for a moment, the boy he used to be. "I have watched my family die, generation after generation, for 300 years, Evan. It will never end unless I end it."
"We could simply stop," Evan suggested miserably.
Walking Shadows Page 29
