Something of the Night

by Paul Cave

  Ezekiel looked at the mask of desire that the two soldiers wore. No, this young woman’s fate had already been decided.

  “Take her back,” he ordered.

  “No …” Bara responded, in defiance.

  Ezekiel stepped closer. The two soldiers twitched nervously; unsure as to whom their loyalties lay towards.

  “Bara, you will do as I say. There will be no fun tonight,” Ezekiel said wearily.

  The jailer’s face twisted itself into a hideous contortion of anger. A long time ago, the face had been different - almost pretty. At the beginning of the vampiric uprising she had stood alongside the dark man before her, and had even shared his bed for a short while. But years of gorging herself in the spill of blood had turned her into a fat, bloated ogre.

  “Return her to her cell,” Ezekiel instructed.

  The vampire jailer’s mouth opened. She snarled in annoyance, four rotten fangs. With a wave of her chubby hand, she said, “Take the bitch back to her putrid cell. I grow tired of this fool.”

  Ezekiel looked at each soldier individually, burning their faces onto the film of his memory. “Do as she says,” he ordered, “but make sure she is returned unharmed, or you’ll both be the toast of tonight’s feast.”

  Understanding exactly what the vampire leader was telling them and, in no rush to be served on a platter, both soldiers bowed quickly, then escorted the young woman back to the confines of her cell.

  “What has become of you?” Ezekiel asked Bara, once alone.

  Bara saw his look of pity. She spat a baleful hiss in his direction. “You – Ezekiel, that’s what’s happened to me. You’ve reduced me to a keeper of animals. What a miserable existence! I need to feel the thrill of the hunt. When will you lead us to the humans’ lair?”

  “We will both feel the thrill of the hunt soon,” he said.

  “How soon?”

  “Very …”

  Chapter Nine

  Alice Hammond gripped the steering wheel as she struggled to keep the old truck under control. Dropping in and out of miniature craters and broken asphalt, the truck bounced and skidded, throwing the three occupants inside around in their seats. Twin headlights cut through the night, burning back dust and darkness in equal measure, laying out a path of blazing light ahead.

  “Just a little faster, please,” Squirrel begged.

  Yap! Yap! Scratch barked excitedly. The little mutt jumped from the back to join Squirrel on the passenger seat.

  “Look, even Scratch wants to go faster,” Squirrel said.

  The dog stuck his head through the side window. Woof!

  Alice eased off the gas pedal, reduced speed and brought the truck back under control.

  Squirrel felt the vehicle slow. “What’s the matter?”

  “Look,” Alice said. She swapped the gas for the brake. In a squeal of brake-pads, the truck slowed. The single taillight blinked on, which threw a blood-red mist around the back of the wagon.

  “Look,” Alice repeated, this time pointing over the hood.

  Squirrel squinted through the cracked windshield. He peered into the darkness ahead and found the shells of burnt-out cars, trucks and other unrecognisable husks. Beyond the wreckage, the road climbed before disappearing over a distant hump.

  “Oh – right,” Squirrel commented, after he’d seen the obstructions.

  “I think it’s time we made our way back,” Alice said. “Betsy’s running just fine. You did a good job on her repairs.”

  “Just a little while longer,” Squirrel pleaded. “Just to be sure.”

  Alice scanned the deserted highway. “Okay, five more minutes. And that’s it.”

  “Thanks,” Squirrel said, beaming like a child.

  Yap!

  She popped the shift-stick into first. With a slight grind of gears the truck moved towards the makeshift blockade. She brought the vehicle up to the obstruction. Carefully, she steered left and right, threading the truck through the twist of metal. At one point the truck got caught between a bent fender and a collapsed tailgate. Alice jammed her foot onto the gas and, with a squeal of metal, the truck punched its way through. With relative ease, she brought the truck out onto the other side. She shifted into second and then pulled away from the wreckage. They weaved past the occasional abandoned vehicle and reached the top of the crest relatively unhindered. Below them, in the distance, little more than a dark suggestion, they saw the outline of a deserted town.

  “We’ll go as far as the border, and that’s it,” Alice said.

  “Okay, that’s fine by me,” Squirrel agreed, not wanting to actually enter the lifeless streets of the town below.

  The truck dropped away from the summit. As it headed towards the town, Squirrel leaned out of the window. He felt the wind blow hard against his face. Exhilarated, he whooped with joy as the airflow blew his long hair about his ruddy cheeks.

  Amused by his childlike behaviour, Alice stepped harder on the gas. The truck launched itself forwards, pulling Squirrel’s ample cheeks back and giving him a bizarre, comical look.

  “Faster!” Squirrel shouted, through peeled-back lips.

  The needle of the speedometer inched its way higher. The asphalt began to level out and eventually it brought them to the outskirts of town.

  From nowhere, a silhouette appeared in front of them. A pair of crystalline eyes stared back at the three joy-riders and held them in their steely gaze.

  Jumping on the brakes with both feet, Alice felt the vehicle swerve to one side. The truck slid sideways as it fishtailed out of control. She threw the steering wheel around and twisted Betsy’s two front wheels into the slide. The wheels found purchase. The vehicle jolted back into the centre of the road. Alice had a second to remain pinned by the shadow’s eyes. Then, with a sickening bump, she ran over it.

  “CHRIST, WHAT WAS THAT?” Squirrel exclaimed.

  “I’m not sure,” Alice replied.

  The brakes released a sharp screech and the truck came to an abrupt halt. They twisted in their seats. Peered through the rear window. A dark, misshapen body lay twenty or so feet behind them.

  “Shit, I think you hit a stray dog or something,” Squirrel remarked.

  “It’s too big for a dog,” Alice responded.

  “Maybe it’s a sheep or goat?” the mechanic suggested.

  Alice released a short, nervous laugh. “A sheep?”

  “Okay, a goat.”

  “A goat?” Alice laughed again. “There hasn’t been any livestock in years. How the hell would a goat or sheep have gotten here?”

  “Dunno,” Squirrel mumbled.

  “I’m gonna back up, see what it is,” Alice declared, and shifted into reverse.

  “No – wait,” Squirrel said. The outside world had instantly become dangerous rather than appealing. “Let’s just get out of here.”

  “It’ll only take a minute,” Alice insisted. She reversed and drew alongside the fallen shape. She pulled on the handbrake but left the motor running.

  Squirrel heard Alice’s door pop open. “What are you doing?”

  “Quiet …” Alice warned.

  She stepped out of the vehicle and paused at her open door for a moment until she’d checked out the surrounding darkness. The landscape was a solid slab of black space. She stepped closer to the downed figure.

  Squirrel reached into the rear of the truck and retrieved a shotgun. With exaggerated caution, he pushed open his door, and then slid across the seat. As he stepped onto the black asphalt, he raised the weapon and let it rest in the crook of his free arm. He turned, expecting Scratch to hop down from the back seat.

  The little terrier stayed fixed to the threadbare cover. He offered Squirrel a low, guttural growl before dropping onto his front paws. With an additional Woof, he plopped his head down and then looked up at the mechanic through a pair of furry brows.

  “Coward,” Squirrel cussed. He shook his head in disgust before circling around the truck to join Alice.

  “Is it dead?�
� he asked in a whisper.

  “Not sure,” she told him.

  The shape lay on its side, motionless. Alice took a deep breath and stepped closer. She found a large dog-shaped body with a dark jacket of matted fur. She grimaced. One of its back legs was twisted and broken. White bone gleamed as it protruded through torn flesh. Moving towards the head, she found an open maw. A long tongue hung loosely between sharp canines: A wolf. She squatted down over the beast’s head and then reached out with one hand.

  “Careful. It might still be ali-”

  She silenced him with a quick scowl.

  Squirrel held his breath.

  Alice reached over and placed her hand against the wolf’s flanks. Although the pelt was a thick and tangled mess, she felt the hard protrusions of bones directly underneath. She ran her fingers over the hard husk, finally stopping over the beast’s heart. Without warning, the head twisted and, with a mighty crack, its jaws snapped together. Razor-sharp teeth missed her hand by less than an inch. Surprised by the attack, she fell back and landed heavily on her behind. With lightning speed the beast jumped onto all fours and then lunged towards her exposed throat. Mercifully, its broken leg buckled and the attack fell short.

  “SHOOT IT! SHOOT IT!” Alice yelled.

  It took a second for Squirrel to move. When he did, he stepped forwards and pulled on the trigger.

  Clank!

  The firing-pin fired on an empty chamber. “Christ!” Squirrel moaned. The beast descended upon her. Its jaws opened wide and foul drool dripped from cruel fangs. “Alice, get out of the way!” He chambered a shell into the shotgun. It was too late, a guttural rumble escaped from its throat. It fixed Alice with two burning eyes, and then sprang forwards.

  YAP! YAP!

  A small blur shot in front of her. And unexpectedly, Scratch was before her, his fur high along the length of his back.

  YAP! YAP!

  The wolf froze, temporarily bewildered by the small furry object standing before it. It blinked, shook its head and then released a deafening howl. Unperturbed, Scratch stood there defiant, his short tail up high. The beast’s lips peeled back as if grinning at this foolish object.

  Squirrel shook his head and the grin became a snarl; all fangs and saliva.

  Alice seized her moment. She crawled away from the wolf, dragging herself to Squirrel’s feet. “Shoot it!”

  The mechanic dropped to one knee. “Scratch – DOWN!”

  As he had minutes earlier, the little mutt dropped onto his front paws. The wolf misread this as an act of submission and lunged forwards, intent on swallowing up the small appetizer in one.

  BOOM!

  In the blink of an eye the wolf disappeared. One moment it was there, all fangs and menace, and in the next, it was gone. A fine cloud of red mist hung in the air for a while, but eventually it too was blown apart as the raging wind scattered the red molecules in all directions.

  “Here, help me,” Alice gasped, and held out her arm. Squirrel slipped the shotgun over his shoulder. He pulled her to her feet. “Thanks,” she said. “My hero.”

  “Don’t mention it,” Squirrel replied. His face burnt with a fierce red. And even the harsh wind could not shift the glow from his beaming cheeks.

  “Oh dear,” Alice moaned, as she turned her attention to the little terrier.

  Scratch stood by their feet, the fur along the length of his back now a Mohawk. As well as his raised hackles, a streak of bright crimson had splashed itself along his back, turning him into a red skunk.

  “Oh dear,” Alice repeated.

  Woof, the mutt snorted, unimpressed. Both Alice and Squirrel began to laugh at the bizarre sight. Feeling as if his acts of bravery hadn’t been acknowledged with the correct amount of respectfulness, Scratch padded away, his furry chin held high in smug self-righteousness.

  “Hey, Scratch, come back! Don’t be like that,” Squirrel chuckled.

  Alice said, “I mean it, Squirrel. You’re my hero.” She bent forwards and placed at kiss on his ruddy cheek.

  “Gee ...” was all Squirrel could utter.

  “We’d better get out of here,” Alice said. “There may be more of them.”

  “You’re right.”

  They pulled themselves into the truck, where they found Scratch curled up inside, feigning sleep.

  “He saved my life. You both did,” Alice said, then tickled the mutt under his chin.

  Scratch continued to fake sleep, but once Alice had withdrawn her hand, he opened one eye, wagged his tail once, and then returned to his bogus slumber.

  “We should be getting back. I’ve had enough excitement for one day,” Alice said.

  “Me too,” Squirrel agreed.

  Alice shifted into first gear and pulled away. She turned the truck in a tight arc, then popped the gears into second and began to climb the steep hill. She’d made it halfway towards the crest of the hill before one of the front tyres suffered a blow-out. The torn rubber released a sudden wheeze of pressurised air.

  “Shit!” Alice exclaimed. The truck began to sag on the passenger’s side, which slowed them down. “Tyre’s blown out.”

  “Oh God …” Squirrel moaned.

  “Don’t worry, there’s a spare in the back,” Alice told him.

  “It’s not the tyre I’m worried about,” he retorted. “It’s them.” Using one of his oily fingers, he drew Alice’s attention to the edges of the highway. She squinted through the gloom and caught a glimpse of moving shadows. Something appeared to be stalking their right flank. A second set of outlines loped along the embankment to their left.

  The truck slowed down alarmingly.

  And the wolves moved in.

  Chapter Ten

  The pack of wolves continued to stalk the stricken vehicle. And even from this safe distance, they could smell the rank scent of fear. One of the wolves broke away, crossed the black tarmac and closed in on the truck. A thunderous boom sounded and the beast was split in two. Two or three wolves descended upon the downed animal. Within seconds it had been devoured.

  “They’re closing in,” Squirrel told her. He pumped another round into the shotgun, leaned through the window and fired. Shadows scattered. Alice jammed her foot down, injecting gasoline into the engine. The truck roared with approval and pushed them both into their seats.

  “Come on,” Alice urged.

  “Easy – easy,” Squirrel warned. “You’ll blow the transaxle...”

  As if on cue, the engine coughed and spluttered, and then cut out.

  “SHIT!” Alice moaned, feeling the truck slow again. The vehicle managed to claw its way upward for another ten feet before it stopped dead. Alice pulled on the handbrake. The truck came to rest near the crest of the hill.

  The mechanic peered through the windshield. He saw they were only feet away from the summit. “Maybe I should get out and push?”

  “Yeah – good idea,” Alice said. “And maybe you could ask them if they’d like to offer a hand.”

  “Okay, not a good idea,” Squirrel admitted. “What do you suggest?”

  Alice twisted in her seat. The vague outline of the town stood out below. “What if we head back into town?”

  “Town?” Squirrel asked. “We’ve just come from there.”

  “Yeah well, we’re going back,” she said.

  “Can’t we just stay in here?”

  “And wait for what?”

  “Until they leave.”

  “And what time do they leave?” she asked.

  “Shit,” Squirrel snapped. Dismayed, he shoved the shotgun through the window and fired into the night.

  “Save your ammo,” Alice warned him.

  “Yeah, okay,” he said, regaining his composure.

  Alice popped the gears, slipped into reverse and then dropped the handbrake. The truck stayed firmly rooted to the highway. “What the ...?” She grabbed the shift-stick and began to yank it backwards in an attempt to drive it home.

  “Wait! Wait!” Squirrel told her. “Drop
into neutral.”

  “Right,” she agreed.

  She slipped the gears into neutral. The truck stood stationary for a second, but eventually it succumbed to gravity, and slowly it began to roll backwards. Squirrel slid over to Alice’s side in an attempt to ease the weight off the punctured side. The loss of weight allowed the vehicle to gain speed. Alice steered the truck backwards and towards the shadows of the ghost town.

  With a hollow boom the windshield shattered in an explosion of glass. Hundreds of square-shaped crystals covered the interior of the cabin. Bloodied jaws clamped themselves around the steering wheel. They missed flesh and bone by mere inches. In reflex, Alice snatched her hands away from the beast’s fangs. Jaws ripped away plastic as the wolf shook its head violently from left to right. The truck pitched sideways, first one way and then the next.

  Under this constant buffeting, Squirrel struggled to raise the shotgun. Once he had, he fought with the weapon as it clattered dangerously around the cabin. Somehow he managed to steady it. He aimed it at the beast’s head and then pulled the trigger. The cabin erupted with the sound of gunfire. A huge chunk of black fur was ripped away from the wolf’s head. A single crimson eye stared back. Yet even in its death-throes the beast held on. Two streams of red liquid burst from its nostrils, covering both in a layer of blood.

  “AGAIN! SHOOT IT AGAIN!” she screamed.

  Squirrel pulled on the shotgun’s loading mechanism. He heard a hollow, callous clunk. “Shit, I’m out!” he moaned. Wasting no time, he spun the weapon around and began to hit out at the beast’s muzzle. Teeth and bones snapped, but still the wolf hung on. He pulled the shotgun back and rammed the weapon down as hard as he could, crushing the wolf’s skull. A pitiful groan escaped from peeled-back lips. In the end, the jaws opened and the bloodied body slipped silently off the hood.

  Alice gripped the torn steering wheel. She turned her head and looked out of the rear window. A scream threatened to form. The shell of an abandoned car lay directly in their path.

  “Look out,” Squirrel warned.

  Too late.

  The truck hit the wreckage. It came to an abrupt halt and both Squirrel and Alice were thrown back violently in their seats. Scratch found himself pushed unexpectedly up against the rear seat.