by Tim O'Rourke
Then he was upon me, knocking me back into the branches of the tree where I became entangled. I twisted beneath him, trying to keep my neck and face away from his lunging bites.
“No, Henry!” I screamed, but he was deaf to me.
Then he was gone, flying backwards through the branches, his tiny hands snatching for anything to take hold of. He seemed to dangle in the air. Then Potter came into view. He was holding the kicking and spitting boy out at arms length.
“Going soft, Constable Hudson?” he said in his cocky manner.
“He’s just a child,” I said back.
“He’s a monster,” Potter said, this time his voice was low and serious.
“I can’t watch,” I told him.
“Don’t then,” he said.
I looked away, and even though I covered my ears, I could still hear the screams of the boy – monster – as Potter ended it for him.
“Are you coming or are going to play around in this tree all night?” I heard Potter say once he’d finished with the boy.
Looking back over my shoulder, I could see Potter hovering on the other side of the tree branches. His wings flapped steadily up and down, his arms down by his sides, his stomach muscles taut.
Shame about the personality, I thought to myself as I looked at him. Then, placing one hand over the next, I climbed towards him. Lifting me into his arms, he held me close as we raced back towards the ground. Potter was travelling so fast that it didn’t seem like he’d given us enough time to stop and land safely.
“Slow down!” I shouted, my heart in my throat as the ground raced up to meet us.
Then opening his giant black wings, we slowed and landed as gently as a feather upon the ground. Seeing that he had shaken me, Potter smiled and said, “There’s no need to get excited.”
Pulling myself free of his grasp, I looked at him and said, “I can promise you, Potter, that there is nothing that you could ever do that would excite me.”
Smiling, he produced a cigarette from a pack in his trouser pocket, lit it, and blew smoke up into the night. Then with the cigarette still dangling from the corner of his mouth, he winked at me and was gone, soaring back up into the sky. I watched him go as he headed towards Luke and Murphy, who were struggling with Rom.
From behind me, there was a noise. Spinning round expecting more vampires to be rushing me, I saw Father Taylor come limping from the shadows of the church. The tips of his battered wings were trailing in the snow. Crouching down behind a gravestone, I watched him approach Phillips’ broken and bleeding body. Kneeling beside him, he leant over and seemed to study his friend’s injuries.
Part of me wanted to step from my hiding place and ask him what he had meant when he had told me that I was ‘unique’. But more than that, I wanted to ask him what had happened to my mother. But before I’d the chance to muster up the courage, there was the sound of beating wings above me. Looking over my shoulder, I could see Luke, Murphy, and Potter dragging Rom between them from the sky. Taylor must have heard them too, because as I looked back, he had lifted Phillips into his arms, then with a struggle, he flapped his wings in a series of jerky movements and flew away into the night.
Stepping out from behind the grave, I approached the others who now had Rom captured between them. He struggled, but it was pointless. Looking at them he said, “Just get it over with, but know, there are others like me.”
“Who?” Luke snapped.
Rom just smiled at him. Coming closer, Murphy saw me and said, “Kiera, go away, this has nothing to do with you.”
“It has everything to do with me,” I told him. “He knows what happened to my mother.” Then going face to face with Rom, I looked into his eyes and said, “Where is she?”
Looking back at me, Rom smiled and said, “If you can’t see her, then I’m real sorry about that.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Look and you will see, Kiera. But be careful of what you look for – you might not like what you find!” he said, lowering his head, resolute to his fate.
I knew that he would say nothing more. It was as if his final pleasure would be to torment me. Taking me by the shoulders, Luke looked deeply into my eyes and said, “Kiera, you don’t need to see this.”
“But -” I started.
“He can’t be changed or cured,” Luke said. Then turning away from me, he spread his wings, along with Murphy and Potter, to shield me from what they were about to do.
Turning away, I could still hear the sound of biting, ripping, and tearing.
Chapter Twenty-Two
“Is that the last of them?” Murphy asked, and I watched him wipe Rom’s blood from his chin with his forearm.
Still turned away from Rom’s remains, I couldn’t bring myself to look, Potter strode forward and said, “Phillips’ body is over there.”
“It’s not,” I told him, as he ran his tongue over his lips, mopping up the red gunge that was there. “I saw Taylor fly away with the body.”
Luke came towards me, but didn’t make eye contact, and I wondered if he thought I was repulsed by him for what he had just done. In a way I was, but I understood the reasons why. Rom and the others weren’t like Luke, Murphy, and Potter, and if they hadn’t been destroyed, then they would’ve only continued to feed off humans and create more vampires. So understanding his shame, I went to him and took his hand in mine. I wanted to let him know that my feelings for him hadn’t changed.
“This isn’t good,” Murphy said, picking up his shirt. “We should’ve destroyed them all.”
“Do you want me to go after him?” Potter asked, lighting another cigarette.
“No,” Murphy said, arching his back, which made an audible cracking noise. His wings shrunk back beneath his flesh and he pulled on his shirt. “It will be dawn soon and we need to get rid of any remains. We also need to make sure that all of those vampires have been destroyed.”
Pulling a cigarette lighter from his pocket, Potter flipped it on. Waving the flame in front of his face, he looked at Murphy and said, “The usual way?”
Nodding, Murphy buttoned up the front of his shirt and put on his police jacket. Then turning to look at Luke, he said, “Take Kiera back to the Inn and get back here as quickly as possible and give us a hand in sorting this mess out.”
“But I want to stay,” I said.
“No,” Murphy insisted.
“But -” I started.
“Constable Hudson, despite everything that has happened, I’m still your sergeant,” he growled,” and I’m telling you to get out of here.”
Before I’d the chance to say anything back, Luke had wrapped his arms around my waist and I felt myself soaring upwards. Looking down, I could just make out the outlines of Murphy and Potter as they walked towards the church. Then they were gone, hidden by a cloud. With the wind whistling through my hair and Luke’s wings beating slowly up and down, we rose over The Ragged Cove. To be so high above the town felt tranquil and my shredded nerves started to soften. Luke pulled me close and it felt as if I were being carried away by an angel. Circling around in the sky, we soared through the clouds and began to lose altitude. From above, I could see the town stretched out before me and it looked peaceful and somehow beautiful with its ragged coast line, white beaches, and miles of woodland. Looking down at it, it was hard to believe that the tiny town had hidden such nightmares. Then in the distance, like a giant torch, I saw St. Mary’s steeple raging with fire.
Landing a short distance from the Inn, Luke uncurled his wings from around me, but didn’t let go.
“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice soft and caring.
“I’ll be fine,” I told him, looking up into those bright green eyes. Holding me against him, he brushed his cheek against mine, and I could feel the tingle of his black stubble.
“I’ll come back,” he whispered in my ear.
“You’d better,” I whispered.
“Tonight,” he said. “Once we’ve taken care of ever
ything back at the church.”
“What about the others?” I asked.
“The others?” he said, looking down at me.
“Rom said there were others just like him,” I reminded Luke.
“Later,” he said. “Murphy will know what to do.”
“Come back then,” I said, not wanting to let him go.
“In a flash,” he smiled, then pulling me close again, he kissed me. But this time it was different. His previous kisses had been soft, but these were urgent and had a passion that I could only describe as bordering on hunger. Kissing him back, I matched his intensity and a wave of deep desire washed over me. Not wanting to break the spell, but not wanting to lose myself either, I pulled gently away from him. Staring up at him, I said, “Later.”
Smiling, Luke arched his back, and spreading his jet-black wings, he was gone. Turning towards the Inn, I heard the sound of a thunderclap way off in the distance.
Roland was behind the bar and was drying some beer glasses with a filthy-looking towel. Seeing me step in through the door, he rushed over.
“Kiera, you look awful,” he said, sounding concerned.
“Thanks,” I half-smiled.
With his pink-coloured jowls flushing red, he said, “I didn’t mean it like that.” Then looking me up and down and noticing the dried vampire blood on my clothes, hands, and face, he added, “You look like you’ve been to hell and back, my poor dear.”
“You don’t know how close to the truth you are,” I told him, feeling the first aches and pains of my adventure.
“Why don’t you go and freshen-up?” he smiled. “I’ll bring you up a nice warm mug of coco and something to eat. You look half starved.”
I could see the willingness to please in his eyes and I didn’t have it in my heart to knock back his kind offer again. So smiling back at him, I said, “That would be really sweet of you, Roland. Thank you.”
I watched him rush back to the kitchen, then I made my way up to my room. Wincing, I pulled off my clothes. I looked at my body and was shocked to see how many cuts and bruises covered it. Pulling on my bathrobe, I ran myself a bath. While I waited for it to fill up, I went and lay down on my bed. Listening to the water splash and tumble into the bath, I closed my eyes. I thought of Luke retuning later and a wave of nervous excitement covered me from head to foot. With my skin tingling at the thought of him touching me, I tried to push him from my mind. The feelings that I sometimes had for him scared me – but I think that’s what I secretly liked – the fact that he could make me feel this way.
Remembering the events of that night, my mind kept returning to what Taylor had said. What had he meant when he told me that I was unique? We’re all unique aren’t we? But I knew he had meant something more than that. Then the voice of Rom entered my head as he told me that I could look for my mother but I might not like what I see. Those images of the hairs in Henry Blake’s dead little hand swam back before me, followed by pictures of the hairs that I’d discovered caught in the teeth of the hairbrush I found in my locker – the locker I guessed had once been used by ‘Jessica Reeves’ – my mother. Had she really been at that crime scene? I’d accounted for everyone else that had been there. Taylor, Phillips, and the smoker. But who had that been? Not Potter as I’d thought – so who then?
The sound of tapping at my door dragged me from my thoughts. Pulling my bathrobe tight about me, I went and opened it. Roland stood on the other side, and I could hear his chest wheezing from his climb up the stairs. In his chubby hands he carried a silver tray. On it there was a steaming hot mug of coco and a plate of neatly cut sandwiches. Stepping aside, I waved Roland into my room.
“You’re very kind,” I said to him as he placed the tray on the desk.
“It’s no bother at all,” he said, turning around and looking at me. I noticed his eyes wander down, and following his gaze, I could see that my bathrobe had come open slightly, revealing my right leg up to the thigh. Feeling uncomfortable, I pulled the robe closed.
Sensing my discomfort, and without looking back at me, Roland shuffled towards the door and said, “Goodnight, Kiera.”
“Goodnight, Roland,” I said, closing the door behind him.
Crossing back to the table, I took a sip of the coco, and it tasted warm and sweet. Taking it with me into the bathroom, I turned off the taps. Fixing my hair into a bun at the base of my neck, I went back to my room and shrieked with surprise. Roland was back in my room, standing with his back against the closed door.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, gooseflesh crawling all over me. “I just want to talk,” he said, looking at me. Pulling my bathrobe tight again, I said, “I really don’t have time now Roland – I’m expecting a friend any minute.” Stepping away from the door and coming towards me, he said, “What I have to say won’t take long.” Backing away from him, I said, “Please Roland, if you wouldn’t mind saving this for tomorrow.” “What I have to say can’t wait until tomorrow,” he said, unbuttoning his shirt. Realising that I was in serious trouble, I clenched my fists and shouted at him, “Roland, will you please leave my room!” Pulling off his shirt and dropping it to the floor, he didn’t take his eyes off me for a moment. His huge stomach was white, which made the wiry black hairs that covered it stand out even more than they should have. Once free of his shirt, his belly hung down over the top of his trousers like a mountain of white dough. Backing away towards the bathroom door, I looked for anything that I could use as a weapon against him. Glancing down at the floor, I could see that something had fallen from his shirt pocket as he had disregarded it. Screwing up my eyes, I could see that it was a pack of Marlboro cigarettes. Almost at once those flashbulbs went off behind my eyes and I saw snapshots of the base of the tree in the woods next to the body of the Blake boy. I saw glimpses of those cigarette butts left by the killer that had waited for the others in the woods.
As if to prove my visions and instincts right, Roland threw his head back and wailed like an animal in pain. Blinking to rid myself of those flashes, I looked at him. Roland’s whole body wobbled, as two black wings grew from his back. Unlike the other Vampyrus wings I’d seen, Roland’s were covered in a coat of greasy black hair. They glistened in the light from the desk lamp. Rolling his head forward, he looked at me, and I could see that where he had once had a neat row of yellow stained teeth, he now had a set of discoloured fangs.
“Surprised are you?” he asked, his voice low, like a growl. “Luke will be here anytime now,” I threatened him. “Bishop doesn’t scare me,” he leered. “Murphy and Potter will be with him,” I said, trying anything to get him to flee. Holding his belly with both of his meaty hands, he released a throaty chuckle. “Oh please, Kiera, you’re really scaring me now.” “You should be scared,” I told him, my voice wavering. “I saw what they did to Rom tonight.” “Rom?” he laughed again. “Rom was nothing compared to those that come next. We were sent just to pave the way.”
“We?” I asked, now backed into the bathroom with nowhere to run or hide.
“Rom, Taylor, Phillips, and me,” he smiled. “We are just mere disciples.”
“For who?” I said.
“Roland!” a voice shouted from behind him.
He turned, and looking past him, I could see his mother standing in the doorway of my room. Her wrinkled-looking face and eyes seething with anger.
“Mother, this has nothing to do with you!” he barked at her.
“Enough Roland!” she screeched back. “Haven’t you done enough damage?”
“It’s only just starting,” he said, turning back towards me.
Roland grabbed for me, and as he did, he was yanked sharply backwards, crashing into the wall on the opposite side of the room. Believing that Luke had arrived, my heart lept and I raced from the bathroom and into the bedroom. But he wasn’t there, just the old woman and her son.
Getting up from the floor and flapping his wings in anger, he leapt towards his mother, landing inches from her. “Mother go back
downstairs and do whatever it is you do and leave this to me.”
Making her short height count, the old woman straightened her curved back and confronted her son. “For too long I’ve covered for you Roland,” she said. “For too long I’ve sat back and watched you murder the innocent people of this town to satisfy your lust for their blood. But no more Roland – it ends tonight.”
“I won’t tell you again, mother,” Roland shouted. “Now go back downstairs and mind your own business!”
“It is my business!” she spat. “We could’ve had a good life above ground. We had something good going here. But instead of going back under when the hunger was upon you – you gave into it. You’re weak, pathetic, and I’m so ashamed of you.”
‘Mother…” he started.
“No Roland!” she screeched.” I’m sick and tired of having to try and protect the good people of this town from the vampires you’ve created, and from you. For years now I’ve pushed those bottles of holy water and crucifixes onto the people of this town in the hope that it might protect them. But I’m tired of it, Roland. Please stop – if not for yourself – do it for me.”
He looked into his mother’s eyes and for a moment, I hoped that what she had said to him had made some impact. Then snarling, he said to her, “And you say I’m pathetic.” Then knocking her to the floor, he turned towards me again. But before he had taken one step in my direction, his mother had sprung into the air, a faded set of black wings flapping behind her. Reaching for him, she clawed at his back and pulled him down. Roland rolled over, crushing his wings. The old woman lunged at him, but drawing his knees into his chest, he kicked out, sending her spinning across the room. She crashed into the wall, which shuddered and then cracked, brick dust showering the room. She hit the floor with a sickening thud, and I thought that she must be dead or at least have broken all the bones in her body. But no sooner had she hit the floor, than she was up again and racing towards her son. Screeching, she clawed at his face, and he covered his head with his large hands.
“Get off me, mother!” Roland roared.
