by Amy Cross
Slowly, reluctantly, I climb out of the back of the van. Lucas wraps his coat around my shoulders and guides me over to his car. Once we're inside, he starts the engine. As he turns the car around, I look out at the dark woods. Am I really scared of Patrick? Do I really think he'd hurt me? After everything we've been through together, I want to say that I have total faith in him. But...
I...
10.
“Take her to her room!” I shout at Dr. Lucas before putting the phone down. I turn to look out the window. It's already starting to get dark, and spots of rain are falling.
The plan was that by tonight she'd have been through the electro-shock and she'd be ready to talk. Now we have to waste another day until we can find a way to get her to the other facility. And there's the question of what the hell happened to that damn van. Four guards overpowered, three of them killed and the fourth still missing. Why? And by whom? Well, the answer is obvious: Patrick. He wasn't supposed to start interfering, not yet, but it seems he has picked up on the scent.
I sit at my desk. We don't have time for this. I have to think of something.
The phone rings. I pick it up.
“Dr. Penfold, we found Styles,” says a voice I immediately recognise as one of my assistants, Davies.
“Who?” I bark.
“Styles,” Davies says. “The fourth guard. The one who got away. We found him”.
“Is he alive?”
“No, sir,” Davies says. “He's dead. Very dead”.
I think about this for a moment. “How did he die?”
“Blood loss, I think” Davies says. “His neck's been ripped open, his chest's been all messed up, he's barely got any blood left in his body at all. But there's not much blood nearby. It's like the blood's just... gone”.
A shiver goes up my spine. “Keep this to yourself,” I say. “No-one else needs to know”.
“Understood”. There's a pause. “Sir, it looks like... I've seen people who've been killed by animals before, sir. I've seen bodies where bits and pieces have been eaten. But this... it's like whatever killed him, was just playing with his dead body, sir. For fun”.
I nod slowly. There's a clap of flash of lightning in the grey skies outside, followed a few moments later by a clap of thunder. “How far did he get from the van?” I ask.
“That's the other thing, sir. The body... it's nowhere near the van”.
“Where is it?” I ask.
“Sir, come over to the window”.
I stand up and walk over to my office window. The sky above looks ominously dark. There's going to be a hell of a storm tonight. But then I look down and I see something that truly horrifies me. Davies is standing right below my window, phone in his hand, looking up at me. Next to him, on the grass, is the mangled, ripped-apart body of Styles.
“Here?” I stammer.
“He was killed right here,” Davies says. He looks around. “I'm coming in,” he says. “I don't like it out here”.
“Bolt the doors,” I say. “All of them. We're going into a full lockdown. No-one leaves, no-one enters. And check all the windows, all the alarms. I want this place secured”.
“Okay,” says Davies. “What about the body?”
I look down at the corpse below my window. “It's just meat,” I say. “Leave it there until the morning. Unless you feel like staying outside all night after the lockdown starts?”
Davies disconnects his phone and hurries inside. I walk over to my desk, pick up the microphone and hit the blue button to make an announcement to the whole facility. “This is Dr. Penfold,” I say. “Due to a possible escaped patient, I am instituting a complete lockdown, effective immediately”. I put the microphone down.
“Do you understand?” asks a voice.
I look up.
Standing in my doorway there's a boy. I recognise him, he's one of the patients, but I've never really spoken to him. Dr. Lucas looks after him.
“Go away,” I say.
“Do you understand?” he asks again.
“Yes, now go away”.
The boy smiles, then turns and walks away. The phone rings again. I answer.
“It's me,” says Dr. Lucas. “What's going on up there? John Tarmey just started screaming”.
I push open the door to the treatment room, and Davies wheels the heavy equipment inside. This is old machinery, something I tucked away in the storage room many years ago and never, ever thought I'd be using again. But needs must as the devil drives. If I can't get Sophie Hart to the other facility for her electro-shock treatment, I'll just have to be inventive. This machine worked just fine forty years ago. Sure, it's a little less subtle than the modern methods. But the blunt truth is, the long-term prognosis for Sophie doesn't really matter. Just as long as we get the information we need in the short-term, I can live with the fact that she might end up as little more than a vegetable.
“Get her,” I say to Davies.
As he leaves the room, Dr. Lucas arrives. “What are you doing?” he asks. “Are you coming to help me with Tarmey?”
“Is he in his room?” I ask.
“Of course”.
“Is the door shut?”
“Yes”.
“Then there's no problem,” I say, starting to set up the equipment.
“He's screaming,” says Dr. Lucas. “He's never screamed before, not like this. Not when he's in his room. He's terrified, and I can't work out why. He just started”. After a moment, Dr. Lucas starts to recognise the equipment I'm preparing. “What the fuck are you doing?”
“Emergency treatment,” I say, hooking the system up to the main power outlet. “That girl really needs her treatment tonight. I can't afford to wait”.
“This is unethical,” says Dr. Lucas.
“So's this,” says a voice from the shadows. Before I have a chance to react, my dark visitor reaches out, grabs Dr. Lucas by the neck, pulls him to the side and snaps his neck. He lets go, and Dr. Lucas falls to the floor, instantly dead.
“You could have let him live,” I say.
“It was irrelevant,” says the voice. “It was mildly inconvenient to have him alive, he was wasting precious seconds. You know that Patrick is here, don't you?”
“He's outside,” I say. “He's not in the building yet”.
“Isn't he?” says the voice. “Have you checked all the doors and windows? Do you really think a creature that can kill four security guards in less than a minute will have much trouble getting into a dilapidated old hospital?”
“He won't stop us,” I say. “The equipment is ready. I'm just waiting for Davies to bring the girl”.
“Saving the girl is an afterthought,” says the voice. “Not even important to him. He's after John Tarmey first”.
I power up the machine. Despite being old and unloved, it's working rather well. “What's so special about John Tarmey anyway?” I ask. “Why does Patrick hate him so much?”
“Patrick has always hated other vampires,” says the voice. “Especially ones he thought he'd killed hundreds of years ago”.
11.
“Do you understand?” asks Alex.
I'm sitting on the edge of my bed, trying to understand everything that has been happening. “No,” I say. “This time, Alex, I don't think I understand at all”.
“That's understandable,” he says. “Things get pretty complex around here”.
The door opens and one of Dr. Penfold's assistants, a stocky man named Davies, waves at me to come over.
“See you later,” I say to Alex, walking over to Davies. “What now?”
He grabs my arm and pulls me along the corridor.
“Get off!” I shout, trying to slip out of his tight grip. “You're hurting me!”
“We're going downstairs,” he says. “No fucking about”.
“I'll come!” I insist. “Just stop hurting my arm!”
But he won't let go. He leads me down some stairs and soon we're going into a room in the basement. Dr. Penfold is wait
ing, with a bed laid out in the corner and some kind of machine nearby.
“You can leave us now, Davies,” says Dr. Penfold. “But keep checking the perimeter. Don't stop until I tell you it's safe to do so, do you understand me?”
Davies nods and leaves the room.
“I'm very sorry about the little incident in the van,” Dr. Penfold says. “I hope you're sufficiently recovered”.
“It was pretty weird,” I say.
“Yes,” he replies. “I expect it was Patrick, your vampire friend, taking out some of his frustration”.
I stare at him. “You don't believe Patrick is real,” I say.
“It's nothing to do with believing or not believing,” Dr. Penfold says. “I know he's real. I even saw him once, out of the corner of my eye. And some of my friends have had considerably more involved dealings with him”.
There's a noise behind me and I turn, but I don't see anyone. All I see is the dark shadows on the other side of the room.
“There's nothing there,” says Dr. Penfold. “Now listen, I've decided to finally admit to you that I believe you because I have something to offer you”. He turns to admire the machine. “This is the most amazing gadget. It's good old-fashioned electro-shock of the variety used in the days when we were really allowed to cure our patients. It's not as subtle as the equipment I was hoping to use on you, and to be honest, the potential side-effects are a little more strong. But I'm assuming you want to know what happened to you in that year when you were missing. I'm assuming you want to know what happened to the baby?”
I stare at the machine. It looks old, like something out of a horror movie. Wires are sticking out the top, and the arms of the bed have thick leather straps.
“I can wait,” I say.
“This can't wait,” Dr. Penfold says. “It's becoming too serious. I hope you understand, Sophie, there's no time to lose. That baby could be dying. You might have left it in some remote abandoned house, or in a cave, or anywhere. This is a matter of life and death, and the survival of your child – your son or daughter – is at stake. Won't you accept a little pain and risk in order to safeguard your child?”
“I don't have a child,” I say.
“Sit down, Sophie,” he says, gesturing towards the bed. “I know that you accept the truth. Somewhere out there, you have a child. We have to find that child before it's too late. Either the poor little thing is all alone, or it's with Patrick. Which of those options do you really think is preferable?”
“I don't have a child,” I repeat. “It's just not possible to -”
“There's a year of your life that's missing,” he says. “In your mind, you went to this Gothos place last week and then you woke up here. But in reality, you were away for a year and then on Monday you were found outside your house, bleeding and almost dead”.
“What?” This is the first I've heard of being almost dead.
“You don't remember, do you?” he says. “You were rushed to hospital. You had wounds on your arms, on your neck. Haven't you seen the scars, Sophie?”
I look down at my arms. There are scratches and cuts, but I... I touch the side of my neck and feel something odd. Stitches! Something did happen to me...
“I think he did this to you,” says Dr. Penfold. “I think you put your trust in Patrick, and he stole your baby and he almost killed you, and now you're willing to let that baby suffer and perhaps even die because you still have some misguided loyalty to this selfish, arrogant vampire who believes he can just order you about”.
I look at the electro-shock machine.
“This machine can unblock your memory,” he says. “Yes, it's crude. Yes, it will probably be extremely uncomfortable. But it will work. And then we can help you to find that baby and get it away from the vampire. What do you think he plans to do with it?”
I have this horrible, hollow feeling inside. I feel like I should sacrifice my safety, perhaps my sanity, to undergo this treatment and try to help my baby. I should care enough to do that. But I don't. I've never seen the baby, I have no memory of being pregnant, and I have no connection with this... thing that they keep saying is my child. So how can I sacrifice so much to protect something that I don't really know?
“Do the right thing, Sophie,” says Dr. Penfold. “The vampire almost killed you. There's no way you can believe that you owe him anything any more. The only person to whom you owe anything is that child. Be a good mother. Be a good human being, and sit down so I can perform this procedure before it's too late!”
From somewhere else in the building, there's a crashing sound. The lights flicker.
“What was that?” I ask.
“Probably just Mr. Tarmey having another one of his fits,” Dr. Penfold says, looking concerned. “Don't let him distract you”.
I take a deep breath. “First, you have to tell me about John Tarmey. Who is he? What is he?”
“He's a patient,” says Dr. Penfold, sounding somewhat annoyed that I'm delaying things. “Just like you, just like everyone else up there”.
“But he's not up there, is he?” I say. “He's down here. All the time. What's so special about him? Why is he treated so differently to everyone else?”
“It's just a matter of procedure,” says Dr. Penfold.
There's another distant crash, and the lights flicker again. Somewhere off in another part of the building, something's happening. I run to the door, pull it open and immediately realise something's very wrong. There are shouts from another corridor.
“What's happening?” I ask, but suddenly a hand is placed over my mouth and I'm pulled back into the room as the door is kicked shut. Dr. Penfold drags me across the floor to the bed, and although I try to fight back, I can't stop him from shoving me down. Before I can react, he has strapped one of the leather restrainers around my arm. As I struggle, I see something in the darkness of the other side of the room. I can't quite make it out, but it seems to be a person.
“Patrick!” I shout. “Help me!”
The figure doesn't move. It just stays in the darkness.
“Patrick!” I shout again.
“It's not Patrick,” says Dr. Penfold, who has got my other arm strapped down. “Shut the fuck up”.
As I stare into the darkness, the figure moves slightly and for a moment I get a better view of its face. It looks damaged and dead, like a walking charred and burnt corpse, with vivid round white eyes staring out from a bloody face.
I feel something being lowered onto my head.
“This will only take a moment,” says Dr. Penfold. “It might hurt a little, but it will save your child's life”.
“I don't think I want you to know anything about me,” I say.
“Too late,” says Dr. Penfold, and he flicks the switch.
12.
All the lights go out. I look around the room and realise that there has been a complete power cut. The only light is coming through the small window at the top of the wall. I stumble over to the other side of the room and, in the darkness, I try to find the torch that I know is one one of the shelves.
“Finish the job,” hisses a voice close in my ear. I spin around. It's next to me. I can't see it, but it's closer to me than it has ever been. “Make her speak,” the voice says.
I fumble around some more for the torch, and then I stumbled back over to the bed. I feel that she's still strapped down.
“I'm going to find a back-up generator,” I say. “You're going to stay here”.
I turn and find my way to the door.
“Don't leave me in here,” Sophie says. “With that thing”.
I open my door and make my way out into the corridor. “You'll be okay,” I say.
In the corridor, I can see a little better. Although we're in the basement, each end of the corridor has a little window at the top of the wall. Moonlight is streaming in at one end, and some of the wiring on the walls seems to have gone haywire. It's sparking and fizzing.
I make my way along the corridor. In the
distance, there's the sound of someone banging on a wall. John Tarmey is clearly having another of his panic attacks, but right now John Tarmey is not my concern.
“Davies!” I call out. “Davies!” I need him. He'll know where there's a generator I can hook up to the power system.
As I turn a corner, I pull up short. There's something hanging from the ceiling straight in front of me. There's a moment of light as one of the wall panels flares, and I see with horror that Davies is dead. Something has ripped open his throat, and he's hanging from the ceiling, his head almost completely removed from his body.
Sensing something behind me, I turn, but there's nothing there. I turn back to face the dead body of Davies. There's only one person who could have done this, who could have done all of this. Patrick is clearly inside the building, and he's angry. He knows what we've been doing here. He knows who and what John Tarmey is, and he's determined to get his revenge. But sooner or later he'll also realise what we're doing to Sophie Hart.
For a moment, I consider my options. And then, finally, I realise that I know what I have to do.
So I run.
I run along the corridor, up the stairs and into the main recreation room of the facility. All the patients have been put to bed by now, but I can hear them shouting from their rooms. With only the moonlight to guide me, I make my way across the room and out into the office area. Hopefully Patrick is downstairs now, trying to break into John Tarmey's room. That should give me enough time to get out of here.
I try the main door, but it's jammed shut. As I try to force the handle, I realise that the whole mechanism seems to have been fused together, the metal melted and then reformed. There's no way out through here, so I head over to my office. Once inside, I push the door shut and lock it, then I head to the window.
“Don't leave so soon,” says a familiar voice from behind me. I turn to find the dark creature lurking in the shadows. It has followed me up here, and it clearly has no intention of allowing me to leave. “The girl is useless. She's never going to remember what happened to the child. We have to be more subtle. We have to use John Tarmey against the vampire”.
