Both women were young, and very pretty. Sam wagged his tail in greeting and sniffed the hand of the blonde lady. The other woman froze.
‘Beth! That isn’t a boy . . . not a proper boy . . . It’s one of those things.’
The blonde spoke to him. ‘My name’s Beth. You’re here to help us, aren’t you?’
He nodded.
The sound of feet rushing through the cemetery announced that the mob of creatures wasn’t far away.
Beth pulled her friend’s arm. ‘He’s not going to harm us. Come on.’
Tommy whispered, ‘Follow me. But you can’t outrun them.’
The one called Sally gave a soft sob. ‘Oh God.’
The boy led them a few paces down the steep incline. The moment they reached the first line of cottages, he pointed to a narrow gap between a wall and a shed. ‘Hide. Don’t make a sound.’
Beth said, ‘You go in first.’
‘No. Sam and me are going to lead them away. We’ll make lots of noise, and, if they don’t see us properly, the bad men will follow. Hurry, get yourselves in the yard, or they’ll hurt you.’ The boy snatched up a stone from the lane. Then, pausing just long enough to make sure that the two had concealed themselves behind the high wall, he streaked away at lightning speed. He rapped on cottage walls as he ran. Sure enough, the vampires followed. They were in a state of high excitement. In fact, they reminded Tommy of a bunch of men who’d drunk too much beer and had decided to rampage through town in search of mischief.
Sam ran alongside, his long black legs making easy work of the distance. They avoided the roads and lanes of Whitby, favouring instead the tiny alleyways. Tommy continued to smack the pebble against walls, fence posts and iron railings. The clack, thud and clangs echoed out over the town. To the hungry vampires it could have been a dinner bell summoning them to a feast. They followed, running as fast as they could. But Tommy knew all the hidden pathways and secret routes through back yards. When he’d drawn the creatures safely away from the two women, he cast the stone into the harbour, then he and his companion slipped noiselessly away into the night.
Ten
Beth and Sally hid in the yard. The darkness owned a suffocating, liquid quality. They could see nothing. And the darkness seemed to not only fill their eyes, but to flood into their mouths and nostrils.
Sally pressed herself against Beth for reassurance. Beth flinched at every sound. Any moment, she expected a stark face, with blazing eyes, to rush at them from the gloom. Closing her eyes didn’t help. For, if she did, that’s when she replayed the events of the night – how they’d entered the cave, and how she’d peered through the hole in the cave wall and glimpsed those swarming creatures. They must have filled the adjoining cavern, like vermin crammed into a tiny cage. They were packed together in a loathsome mass of intertwined arms and legs; their slippery grey bodies rolled over one another. She remembered that pair of eyes that had glared through the dwarf tunnel in the rock. And then there was the attack on the soldiers. She shuddered.
To distract herself from those troubling images, she whispered, ‘I’m sure we’re safe now. The boy’s led them away.’
‘Boy?’ Sally’s faint voice had a tremulous quality. ‘Boy? Did you see his face . . . My God, he’s one of those vampires.’
‘But he didn’t try and harm us. He feared them, just as much as we did.’
‘Did you see his eyes? They didn’t have any colour. The pupils looked as if they belonged to an animal . . . No, not an animal, a monster.’
‘He saved our lives, didn’t he?’ She gave Sally a friendly hug. ‘And he had a dog – a real, living dog. That wouldn’t stay with him if he was a danger.’ For a while, they huddled there in the biting cold of the February night. Eventually, Beth whispered, ‘I can’t hear them. The boy’s plan must have worked.’
‘Then God bless him,’ was Sally’s heartfelt response.
‘We should go to the hotel. We’ll be safe there.’
They crept from their hiding place. Once more, they found themselves on the steep track that ran some eight feet below the level of the steps, yet still followed its line. Together, they descended into the moonlit town. Beth marvelled at the miracle of their escape. The smooth blocks of stone were set at an alarming incline. It’s a wonder we didn’t slip. If we had, those creatures would have been on us in seconds. And if they had caught us . . . She decided not to share her thoughts with Sally. The woman had had enough scares for one night as it was.
It took little more than five minutes to reach level ground. This, the junction of Church Street and Henrietta Street, didn’t seem much wider than a pathway between the lines of cottages. Beth figured they were just a couple of hundred yards from the Leviathan Hotel – of course, she’d told Sally they would be safe there, but those windows were flimsy things. She didn’t place a great deal of faith in them holding Gustav and his hungry pack at bay. So how could they fight these creatures? They didn’t retreat before crucifixes, holy water, or garlic – at least that’s what Eleanor had inferred.
They’d gone perhaps thirty paces along Church Street, when they encountered the straggler. The moon illuminated him clearly. Beth saw he wore army boots and a dull khaki coat. One of the epaulettes fluttered from his shoulder. The young man wobbled as he walked. From time to time, he rested his palm against the wall of a cottage to steady himself.
Beth whispered to Sally, ‘One of the soldiers got away from the cave.’
‘He must have been hurt, though. Look, the poor man can hardly walk.’
Beth hurried towards the shambling figure. ‘Sir? Let us help you.’
The man turned to them. ‘What’s happened to me?’ Bloodstains formed streaky patterns down the front of his coat. Teeth marks stippled the side of his face.
‘You were attacked,’ Sally told him. ‘We’ll get you to a doctor.’
‘But why do I feel different inside?’ He swayed. ‘My blood is on fire.’
The man sucked in a huge lungful of air. His back straightened. Then his eyes changed. The blue of the iris leeched away. The eyes were white – all white. And the pupils became dots of hungry blackness. A darkness that longed to suck the life out of the world.
‘Run!’ Beth yanked her friend backwards.
‘Come here,’ he moaned. ‘I need you.’
They fled along the street. The soldier took steps towards them, unsteady at first, then with growing confidence. Moments later, he ran – ready to chase them down as a panther chases down a fawn.
The unbroken line of cottages hemmed the pair in. They pounded at doors in the hope some saviour would let them enter. But all the cottages were locked, formidably locked and bolted, as if to seal the occupants from the outside world. No lights showed from windows. Not a curtain moved. A sudden vision struck Beth. The people of Whitby sheltered inside. They are frightened. For they knew exactly what event unfurled night after night in these streets. Indoors, families huddled together to wait out the dangers of the night. No power on Earth would entice them into opening so much as a window between sunset and sunrise.
The pair ran hard. Behind them, the soldier’s boots created an almighty clatter. When hobnails in the soles crashed against paving stones, a flash of vivid blue sparks shot outwards.
‘It’s no good,’ Sally panted. ‘Henrietta Street leads to the harbour pier. It’s a dead end!’
A figure stepped out in front of them. A slight figure . . . almost fragile. Beside him, a black dog, with the white, heart-shaped patch beneath its throat. Fur bristled upwards as it saw the approaching vampire.
Beth could barely breathe she was so exhausted, yet she managed to utter, ‘Just pray he . . . he can save our skins again.’
The boy pointed to a shed. Pale smoke trailed from vents high in the walls. A sign by the shed door announced, Kippers Smoked To Order. Enquire 4 Henrietta Street.
Dazed by the headlong dash, Beth rushed through the gate, then burst through the door of the shed. Sally followed. There, inside, masses of fi
sh hung from rails. The fish had been sliced open, then flattened until they resembled teardrop shapes. The pungent smell of herrings and smoke instantly prickled Beth’s throat. Beneath the fish were metal trays the size of table tops; they were heaped with glowing embers. The smoke from smouldering wood cured the fish hanging above. Sally hurried into the far corner of the shed to hide herself. Beth returned to the doorway.
Beth had expected the boy to try and lead the Vampiric soldier away; however, the boy stood his ground.
Beth shouted, ‘No – you can’t fight him!’
‘I have to,’ answered the child. ‘He saw you go into the smoking shed.’
That’s all he managed to say before the soldier was upon him – or what had been a soldier when he woke that morning. Now he was a vampire that raged with bloodlust. Hands extending claw-like, he charged at the boy. Nails in his boots struck sparks from the road. The dog immediately leapt forward to sink his teeth into the vampire’s arm. In one savage movement, the vampire swept the dog from him. The animal struck the steps of a cottage. With a shrieking yelp, he arched his back, then lay still.
The boy turned to his pet with such an anguished expression that Beth’s heart lurched. The vampire didn’t rush now. He slowly advanced on the boy.
‘You don’t want him,’ Beth snarled. ‘You want me.’
The vampire immediately changed course. He approached Beth with lethal intent. Smoothly, she backed into the gloom of the shed, instantly becoming wreathed in smoke.
‘Remember? You are a soldier. You serve king and country.’ Beth kept a gap between herself and the metal trays heaped with smouldering wood chips that glowed bright orange.
Hungry-eyed, predatory, the vampire passed through the doorway.
Sally whimpered, ‘No, no, no,’ over and over.
Beth backed away until she struck something that didn’t yield. Behind her, a six-foot-high barrier built out of flat wooden boxes, which would be used to ship the smoked fish to market. She couldn’t go back. She couldn’t go forwards. The vampire’s eyes burnt at her through the smoke-filled room. The hundreds of fish oozed oil on to the embers. Each time one dripped into the smouldering mass, the oil would produce a little pop of flame.
‘You are a soldier,’ she told the creature. ‘You have sworn to defend your country against Hitler. You are fighting a war against the evils of Fascism. Now fight what is inside of you!’
He paused. The eyes lowered, as he searched inside himself for a memory of what he once was. Maybe a trace of his identity surfaced. His mouth moved. The blue swam into his eyes to form irises – his eyes were human again.
But only for a second. The blue vanished from the whites. Dark pupils fixed on her. His mouth opened. Already subtle changes were forcing his teeth apart, creating more spaces between them. The gums had become swollen; a bulbous red. He raised his hands, ready to grab Beth’s throat. Sally screamed.
A shape darted through the doorway. The boy seized hold of the man’s coat. He swung at it, trying to drag him back. The vampire grabbed the boy, glared into his face, then spat in disgust. The boy obviously meant nothing to him – he was useless as a source of food. The man hurled the little figure back through the door with the same contempt as a man throwing out a bad apple.
Beth saw her chance. When his back was turned, she gripped the edge of one of the huge trays full of smouldering wood. Grunting at the exertion, she upended it on to the vampire. The next second he was doused in embers. He blundered back in surprise. The racks of hanging fish brushed against him, coating him with their natural oils. The instant the embers, sticking to his coat, made contact they burst into flame; in turn those tiny spots of flame on his clothes ignited the fabric.
‘Get out!’ Beth yelled to Sally.
Once the woman had safely exited the shed, Beth shoved the stack of boxes on to the floundering man. The dry wood instantly caught light. And even though he struggled to escape the mound of boxes that now surrounded him, he was bathed in an inferno. Every single inch of him burnt. The light generated by the fire blinded Beth. Choking on the smoke, she found her way to the shed door. Flames crackled like pistol shots. The temperature soared to make the metal ember trays glow, as if they’d turned into luminous yellow disks.
And yet the burning man did not scream. He continued to blunder through the blazing interior – disorientated, blinded, lost, perhaps not even feeling pain as a human would have done.
Out in the street, Beth found Sally with her arm round the boy. Both crouched over the still shape of the dog. The boy’s shoulders were shaking as he grieved over his companion.
‘Here let me look. That’s alright,’ Beth said in soothing tones to the child. ‘I love dogs, too. I just want to feel his chest.’ She swept the dog up into her arms. ‘He’s still breathing. Come on, let’s get him back to the hotel.’
The boy rubbed his eyes with his fists. ‘I can’t go. I’m not allowed.’
‘You want to stay with him, don’t you?’
He nodded.
‘Then let’s get him somewhere safe, so I can check him over.’
As they hurried away, the walls of the shed sagged; flames devoured the wood at a ferocious rate. Moments later, the roof collapsed into the building – a million yellow sparks rose into the air to drift away, like so many freed souls into the night sky.
PART FIVE
{From the Viking Leppingsvalt Saga, circa AD900}
Tiw, not of the family of Odin, not of the pantheon of Valhalla, he raised the warrior dead on the field of battle. Undying, fierce for want of feasting, his army await their master’s call . . .
One
Beth Layne carried the dog into the yard. Darkness engulfed that area between the perimeter walls and the hotel itself. Beth trusted her instincts to guide her safely to the back door. The dog lay limp in her arms. She hoped that his heart had continued to beat after she’d picked him up from the street moments ago. Sally and Tommy followed. Although the boy’s face had many qualities that were utterly inhuman, such as the colourless eyes, the expression of concern for his pet would have been identical on any ten year old whose beloved dog lay close to death.
As they crossed the yard, Beth noticed that Theo Charnwood gazed at them impassively from the upper room of his home. The cottage lay in darkness, yet the man’s face appeared to hang suspended in the gloom, like a stark, white skull.
Before Beth had even reached the hotel’s back door, it flew open. Eleanor beckoned them frantically.
‘Come in,’ she hissed. ‘Hurry . . . please hurry. Thank God, you’re alright.’
They entered the kitchen area before Eleanor could lock the door, then safely switch on a light. That’s when she perceived they’d added another to their band of survivors.
She bustled about, filling a kettle with water. ‘Who’s the boy? Where did you find him? Is that his dog?’
‘The dog’s been hurt. I need to examine him.’
‘Take him into the dining room and put him on the table under the chandelier. You’ll get the best light to . . .’ Her voice faded; she’d got her first good look at Tommy’s face.’
‘Oh, my dear God.’ She gripped the big kettle as if about to use it as a weapon. ‘Beth? Have you seen what you’ve brought in with you? He’s not a boy. He’s a—’
‘He’s called Tommy,’ Beth said firmly. ‘This is his dog, Sam.’
Sally’s posture was defiant. ‘Tommy and Sam saved our lives. Not once, but twice.’
Eleanor’s eyes swept over Tommy’s gaunt body, clad in trousers and a black fisherman’s jersey that frayed to a mass of woollen strands at the cuffs; his white face, the shock of hair, the eyes that had been drained of colour. From them burnt a pair of fierce black pupils. ‘But you can’t . . . He mustn’t stay. He’s the same as Gustav and the others.’
Alec stood in the kitchen doorway. He must have been listening to the conversation all along. He entered, shaking his head. ‘Not exactly like Gustav. He seems to act like
a human child.’ Alec turned to Beth. ‘Has he showed any inclination to attack you?’
‘No. Tommy isn’t like the others.’
From Eleanor’s expression, she’d clearly decided to accept what she’d been told – or at least until the child did something that proved he was dangerous. ‘Go through to the dining room. I’ll bring the first-aid kit.’
Beth carried Sam to the big room. There she laid him on a table beneath the chandelier. The brightness of the light allowed her to examine the dog thoroughly.
Anxious, Tommy rubbed the neck of the unconscious animal, while murmuring reassurances.
Beth used a clean napkin to dab a cut on Sam’s hind leg. This appeared to be a result of striking the ground rather than a bite-mark.
Tommy’s voice quavered. ‘Is he going to be alright, Miss? Is he bleeding a lot?’
Sally said, ‘Should we call a vet?’
Alec’s good eye checked Sam, too. ‘You wouldn’t get one out on a night like this, not for love nor money.’
‘Is he going to die, Miss?’
Beth ran her fingers over the top of Sam’s head. ‘The cut to his leg isn’t deep. I’ll need to clean it. And he’s going to have an almighty bump on his head. But I’d say he’s been knocked out cold, that’s all.’
Tommy’s inhuman eyes roved over the dog and hope suddenly glimmered there. ‘Does that mean he’s going to get better, Miss?’
‘I’m sure of it, Tommy.’
He wiped his eyes. ‘I don’t know what I’d do if I was to lose him, Miss. You see, I can’t find my way home. Sam’s all I’ve got.’
Sam kicked his legs on the table, maybe chasing rabbits in a dream. Then, with a whimper, he raised his head a little. Yet it still swayed, suggesting the animal was groggy.
‘We’ll fix a bed up for Sam,’ Alec said. ‘Lots of blankets to make him cosy.’
Eleanor brought a first-aid box. Beth used iodine to cleanse the wound. Sam yelped when the liquid stung raw flesh.
‘Don’t worry, Tommy,’ Beth told the boy. ‘If Sam felt that it’s a good sign.’