Blood Fugue (13 page)

As Kerrigan read he noticed a change in the light of the day and looked up but it was only a cloud passing across the sun. A few seconds later it was gone, the brightness returning. The words of the language in front of him made sense. Total sense. He began to make connections between the letter and almost every inexplicable or difficult aspect of his life.

Fugue is particular to this valley. You must keep it that way. If a carrier ever escapes Hobson’s Valley you will be responsible for the spread of the disease to other places. Were that to happen, Fugue would become uncontrollable. Life everywhere would be threatened.

When I turn, as I inevitably will, you will be the one to come and deal with me. I only pray that I can control my sickness until you are old enough to do the job. I will be here waiting in the forest and I will not welcome you. The longer I prevent myself from feeding the worse my hunger will become and the greater my desire to kill and spread Fugue.

Each time a Fugue feeds they become more powerful and versatile. Each time you cleanse or destroy a Fugue you too will become more powerful but ultimately you will become old and frail like any human being and the Lethe will change; it will become Fugue. Before this happens you must do what I did not; you must take a pupil, a willing one if possible, and you must introduce Lethe into their body so that they can take your place. As long as there is Fugue, there must be a Fugue Hunter

Your duty is to release me, destroy me if you must. But, I beg you, end the sickness that already threatens to steal my mind and my desires.

End it well, child.

Kerrigan’s heart rate slowed and the endorphin rush from running abated. Fatigue and weakness settled over him and the words on the page became indistinct.

As the skill of understanding disappeared so did his memory of what he’d known only moments before. All Kerrigan could remember was leaving the cabin in the darkness before dawn and being full of fear.

PART II: INFECTION

‘There is no disease for which God did not also provide a cure.’

10th century Persian proverb.

Chapter 13

Stale cigarette smoke and the taint of spilled beer choked the air conditioning. Hard rock, soft rock and the occasional fifties tune sprang like genies from the jukebox. The barman was lecherous, the drinks cheap and familiar, but there were compensations. Mulligan’s was the only bar in Hobson’s Valley dedicated to hardnosed drinking and that was what Amy Cantrell was in the mood for.

Sure, she could get a drink at Segar’s cabin but she didn’t want to sit alone in there and get approached by the same old losers or partially available men. She didn’t want to see Jimmy Kerrigan either. Although it was rare, he did sometimes eat in Segar’s on his own and they’d made a couple of trips there in their time together.

During the course of our relationship.

That wasn’t accurate enough. Association was better, but she preferred to think of the connection as having existed over a period of time.

Eighteen months.

Not that it was an eighteen-month relationship. If she added up the time they’d actually spent together, she figured it was about four weeks.

She laughed out loud.

‘Want to share the gag?’

The barman smiled as he wiped a glass clean and replaced it next to a hundred others. Amy watched him for a moment and picked up everything she needed to know. He was a man who took advantage of drunks and lonely women, ready to say a supportive word or two if it spread someone’s legs or opened their wallet one more time.

‘I would if I thought there was anyone in here that might get it,’ she said. ‘I’ll take another draft instead.’

Neon signs for Miller and Bud lit the bar and behind it glass-fronted coolers presented ranks of icy bottles. Above them liquor brands gleamed their pale and golden colours and the TV mounted over the countertop flashed silent images into the smoky room.

Amy liked the song and she swayed to it on her barstool. Brash, powerful drums and grinding guitars vibrated in her chest. She drank. Closing her eyes she absorbed the gravelly voice of the singer. The buzz from the beer took hold and she felt lighter, more alive than she had since she’d finished it with Jimmy. The passion of the song grew and she gave in to it a little more.

God, Jimmy, why did you have to be so weird with me, honey?

It had been hard to let him go. Jimmy didn’t love her and she knew she only wanted to love him, but there’d been something between them. Was it the sex? Maybe that really was all it added up to. But good sex added up to a lot. Jimmy had made her feel things she’d never felt with any other man. He’d made her do things she’d never done before too, and it was all good. But he couldn’t handle the day after in any meaningful kind of way. She’d given him so many chances.

‘God damn.’

The barman glanced her way and left it at that when he saw the look on her face. She was remembering how he’d pissed himself. Like a little boy.

She looked around and sighed. Sitting alone in a bar going backwards wasn’t going to help. She drained the glass and reached down for the purse at her feet.

‘You’re not leaving now, are you?’

A girl with untamed dark hair and moon pale skin stood beside her at the bar. Amy was drawn to the girl’s eyes; irises of forest green fractured by shards of sunlight orange. The girl was young but her eyes were ancient. All Amy could do was stare.

‘I’ve been meaning to come over for a while, but I was too afraid,’ said the girl.

‘Afraid?’ Amy frowned. ‘Of what?’

‘I wanted to buy you another beer but I thought it would seem a little odd, you know?’

‘Are you old enough to be in here?’ asked Amy.

The girl looked at the barman and he turned away.

‘I guess so,’ she answered.

‘Well, I think I’ve had enough for tonight,’ Amy said.

The girl wasn’t put off.

‘Only if you’re drinking alone,’ she said.

Amy glanced around Mulligan’s. It was almost deserted — one old timer with his hat still on occupied a small round table. A young couple in jeans and plaid shirts played pool. A drunk watched the silent TV through half-closed eyes. She looked back at the girl.

‘You been watching me?’ she asked.

‘No,’ said the girl. ‘Not watching. But I couldn’t help noticing you.’

Amy was half amused, half disbelieving. Was this girl coming onto her?

‘Well, like I said, the evening’s over for me.’

She said the words but she didn’t move; still held in the cool gaze of the girl with the woodlands in her eyes.

‘Have one beer with me. Coming over here to ask you was one of the hardest things I ever did. I don’t want you to leave thinking I’m weird or a lesbian or something —

or something

— I wanted to talk to you. Is that such a bad thing?’

Amy felt her will collapse. She wanted to talk and drink long into the night. She wanted to connect. She wanted what Jimmy had never given her — care. Something other than orgasms that made her weep with loneliness afterwards.

She released an exasperated laugh.

‘Okay, whatever. One more beer.’

The girl faced the bar to order and Amy watched her. She wore motorcycle boots and dark stockings, a purple mini skirt and a leather jacket with buckles and straps and zips. She looked both lost and wild.

The girl turned, pushing a beer towards her.

‘Listen,’ said Amy, ‘any other night I’d have said yes straight away, so don’t feel bad. You caught me on a bad day.’

‘It’s okay. I get those too.’ The girl smiled for the first time and Amy was charmed. ‘You want to stay up here or shall we find somewhere else?’

‘Where were you sitting?’

The girl gestured into the gloom

‘In that booth right there.’

Amy noticed the bar creep taking an interest in them. Anywhere far from him would be fine.

‘Looks great.’

She followed the girl, watching her slender behind sway in its thin coating of fashion and wishing she wasn’t so heavy these days. She’d look like a moose sitting next to the kid. Yeah. A dark corner was the best place.

She set her beer down and slid in but the girl remained standing.

‘I’m gonna punch in some more tunes. Any requests?’

‘I don’t know what they’ve got on this machine,’ said Amy. ‘Let me give you some quarters though.’

‘No way. I got it.’

The girl clomped off to the jukebox and leaned over to inspect the selection. The guy playing pool checked out her ass and Amy didn’t blame him one bit. The guy’s girlfriend snatched the cue from his hand and took her shot, missing badly. The bar was desolate with so few people in it. The music that roared from the jukebox boosted the limp vibe.

The girl returned and slipped into the seat opposite, raising her glass.

‘To fulfilment.’

Amy couldn’t hide her surprise.

‘Amen,’ she said.

They clinked their glasses and drank, the girl downing half of hers in a swallow. Amy didn’t try to keep up.

‘I guess you work out, right?’ she asked the girl after a while.

‘Yeah, I do. When I was sixteen I started to get real fat. I always said I’d never be fat. Mom says when I was a kid I used to cry when I met fat people. I wouldn’t watch them on TV or anything.’

Amy felt herself reddening.

‘Oh hey, listen,’ the girl said, ‘you are not fat. I would never have said that in front of you if I thought you were fat, I swear. You’re beautiful. You’re how I imagine a real woman to be.’

‘A real woman?’

‘Shit, I’m just going to stop digging this hole right now. When I said I was getting fat, I mean I was huge. I looked sick. That kind of fat. I decided I’d die before I let myself stay that way. Now I work out five times a week at home. I don’t drink soda — beer is fine, by the way — and I run three times a week too.’

‘Where do you get the energy?’ asked Amy.

‘Doing it gives you energy.’

‘Really?’

‘Sure. It’s like being high but you feel clear-headed and full of life.’

Amy shrugged.

‘It’s a while since I felt anything like that,’ she said

‘Come for a run with me sometime, then.’

‘Oh, God. I couldn’t. It’d be like a whale and a dolphin going swimming together.’

‘You should come. You’d like it.’

‘Where do you run?’

‘All through the Bear Mountain trails. It’s beautiful out there.’

‘Cold in the winter.’

‘You don’t feel it,’ said the girl. ‘You’re warm by the time you reach the woods. Anyway, the offer stands if you change your mind.’

The girl was really trying hard to be nice. Amy decided she ought to loosen up and have a little fun instead of worrying about the difference in their ages and appearances. She put her hand out across the table.

‘My name’s Amy Cantrell.’

The girl shook it.

‘Gina Priestly.’

‘Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Gina. You’ve saved me from a lonesome night.’

‘You got guy trouble?’

Suddenly, Amy was able to smile.

‘Not any more,’ she said.

Chapter 14

In daylight the creature hid itself within the darkest places of the forest, safe where no brightness could penetrate. During those hours it entered a resting state, in which it tried to escape its own hunger. But when the sun fell beyond the peak of Bear Mountain, it could hide from its purpose no longer.

As the twilight came it rose from its bower and wandered in the woods or ran along the trails or sat among the rocks of the high passes. Sometimes it pranced in time with the silent pulse of the night. The deeper the darkness, the more restless it became. By midnight, it was demonic with mischief and hunger and lust. It came then to the town to answer the bidding of the master in its blood.

It revelled in its power. It didn’t matter that the creature was an abomination, that it did not belong among these trees and mountains, that it was a stranger to the very earth beneath its feet. It only mattered that it was free, abroad upon the night and able to prepare for an even greater liberty.

In the meantime, there were playthings in the valley and in the woods, trinkets for the creature to toy with. Nectars to be sampled. Agonies to be appreciated

José disappeared into the trees at the side of the trail to look for a secluded spot where they could pitch camp. Better to get away from the path and find a place where their tent wouldn’t cause trouble for others.