Dark Corner (66 page)

He lit the cloth fuse with a cigarette lighter, and, praying
that his aim would be true, flung the bottle at Diallo.

The bomb struck Diallo and exploded, and the vampire
was suddenly on fire.

Mariama ...

The sight of Mariama brought Diallo to his knees. He
had waited so long to see her again, had long nurtured a
naive hope that he would be granted another chance to
speak to her, and here she was, as the woman seer had foretold.

And how beautiful she was! She was like a goddess. Her
luminescent beauty rendered him nearly speechless. Emotion
lodged in his throat like a hot coal, and he found it difficult
to even draw breath.

"Mariama," Diallo said, when he could at last speak
clearly. "It's been so, so long."

Love shone in her angelic eyes. Yet sadness, too.

Why are you doing this, my love? she asked him. You've
caused so much pain since we have been apart. I remembered you as a kind, gentle man.

"But I am not a man anymore," he said. "I am greater than man. Man is responsible for my losing you. I will never
forgive men for that transgression."

But you have no peace, Diallo. Your soul is like a turbulent sea.

He shook his head. "So it is, and so it will be, until my
mission is done"

Please, come to me, my husband. Come into my arms and
find peace.

Mariama's voice was like the sweetest honey, and her
words conjured the dreams that he had been frightened to
believe could ever come true. Dreams of a life of peace.
Comfort. And a return to their long-lost home.

No, you romantic fool, he thought. You can never go
home again. Your home has been destroyed. By men. Destroy
them, drench the world in their vile blood.

But Mariama smiled at him, and her pure, glorious smile
was like a promise of peace and everlasting happiness.

Did he dare to believe that his dreams could come true?

As he pondered the dilemma, teeth of fire tore into him.

Diallo howled. Mariama's body flickered, like a candle
flame about to die.

No. He could not lose her. Not again. No.

In spite of the ravenous fire, he rushed toward Mariama,
arms spread wide, to embrace her before he lost her again.
He could not bear to lose her again. It would kill him.

But Mariama vanished.

Burning, wailing in anguish, Diallo crashed into the wall.

The fire devoured him, as he had devoured the lives of so
many during his century-spanning rampage.

All for nothing. What I thought was my destiny to cleanse
the world was only the demented mission of the mad.

Diallo gave up life, at last, and surrendered his soul to
whatever fate awaited him in the Beyond.

The fire consumed the vampire.

As the creature died, the globe of bright light slowly
faded, too.

Numb with pain, weary, David trudged to where Nia and
Jahlil lay curled on the floor.

He was afraid of what he would find. Was it too late to
save them?

Nia coughed. Her eyes opened, and they were honeybrown and blessedly normal.

"You're alive," he said. "And human"

"Better believe it, baby," she said. Her voice was raspy. "I
was almost a goner, but then you did ... something."

"Yeah," David said. He might never learn the identity of
the ghost, and why seeing it had mesmerized Diallo. "Someone ... did something. We're safe now."

Coughing, Jahlil sat up. "Hey, can we get out of here
now? I'm serious, I can't take it down here anymore"

"I couldn't think of a better idea," David said. "Let's go"

Climbing the ladder out of the hideaway was a challenge
for David, who had the use of only one arm. Nia wrapped
her arm around him and assisted him. It was a tiring climb,
but they had accomplished harder tasks lately.

King awaited them in the vestibule. The dog pounced on
them ecstatically, wagging his tail.

"Easy, boy," David said. "Your daddy's got a bad arm here"

Nia and Jahlil pushed open the mausoleum doors. Sunlight
flooded the room. They shuffled outside.

"Fresh air never tasted so good," Jahlil said.

A few feet away from the entrance, three mounds of ashes
covered the ground. David instantly recognized them as the
remains of the vampiric hounds.

"So it's true," Nia said. "Everyone that Diallo had infected with his life force ... they're gone now."

"Yes," David said. "Everyone"

The three of them were silent. Then they came into one
another's arms, and wept.

They walked to the Pathfinder. The vehicle had been undisturbed in their absence.

The raven stood in the same spot on the monument, as if
it had not budged once while they were away.

"Thank you, Lisha," David said. "For everything."

The bird held his gaze for a beat. Then it uttered a shrill
cry, leapt into the air, and soared away.

A breeze wafted through the cemetery. Golden sunlight
warmed the morning.

David spotted a group of about a dozen people walking
on the other side of the street. They looked as if they were
surveying the town. A man appeared to be leading the
crowd.

"That's Reverend Brown," David said.

"Sure is," Jahlil said. "Guess they were safe at the church
last night."

The reverend waved at them. David lifted his good arm
and waved back.

A service vehicle for a utility company rolled past, engine grumbling.

"Looks like people are here to clean up and put things
back to normal," David said.

"You're right, they're here to clean up," Nia said. "But
nothing will ever be normal in Dark Corner again."

"hree weeks later, David, Nia, and Jahlil left Atlanta, where
i they had been staying in David's home, and returned to
Dark Corner. They went to retrieve their belongings. And to
pay their respects to the lost.

"The Lost" was how the news media had taken to describing the town residents who had mysteriously vanished
over Labor Day weekend. Previously, Mason's Corner had
been noteworthy only as the hometown of its famous native
son, Richard Hunter. But the town gained a sudden, unwelcome notoriety when news of the "displaced" residents leaked
out. Those who continued to live in Mason's Corner refused
to discuss with the media what had happened, stating only
that a terrible storm had come and wreaked havoc on their
quiet hometown. They claimed that they did not know where
"The Lost" had gone, and shut their doors when pressed to
answer further questions.

David had followed the media coverage from Atlanta. After
three weeks, when the media's interest in the taciturn residents
waned and the news crews moved on to fresher stories elsewhere, he told Nia and Jahlil that it was time for them to go back.

Neither of them was surprised. They understood that they
had unresolved business to handle there.

They drove back on an overcast Saturday. Nia drove, as
David's arm was still healing. Throughout most of the drive,
they were in good spirits, enjoying the familylike camaraderie they had developed. When they drew within ten
miles of Mason's Corner, however, they grew quiet. When
they entered the city limits, the only sound to be heard
within the SUV was the music playing on the stereo.

This place looks a lot like it did when I first came here,
David thought. Main Street had been cleaned up, the broken
windows replaced. Cars and trucks drove back and forth
along the road. People walked in and out of shops.

But there were differences, and they went beyond the orange-red autumn leaves. Everyone appeared to be in a hurry,
as if afraid to meander outdoors for too long. Many of the
storefronts had bars across the windows. And the residents
who took note of them driving through town regarded them
not with curiosity, but with quick, anxious glances.

"I could never live here again," Nia said in a brittle voice.

"Yeah," Jahlil mumbled. "Me neither."

Perched on the hill on the east side of the city, Jubilee
gazed down on them, an ineradicable scar.

David's chest tightened. He looked away from the house.

They reached the park. The three of them, and King,
climbed out.

With his left arm encased in a heavy cast, David grasped
Nia's fingers with his right hand as they strolled along the
grass. They had first met here; he would never forget that
day. As he looked into her eyes, he knew she was thinking
the same thoughts.

They stopped in a quiet corner of the park. Jahlil set
down the potted magnolia sapling that he had been carrying.

They planted the magnolia there, in the rich soil. Finished,
they formed a circle around the young tree. Jahlil had written a poem, entitled "Always," to dedicate the tree to those, friends and strangers alike, who had been lost when darkness had fallen over the town. He recited the bittersweet
poem from memory; he had spent many hours preparing for
this day.

By the time Jahlil finished speaking, tears trickled down
his face. He lowered his head. David took him into his arms,
and held him.

The next morning, after spending the night at a hotel in
Southaven, they rented a U-Haul trailer, hooked it to the rear
of the SUV, and went to each of their families' homes, to
pick up the items they wanted to bring back to Atlanta. They
visited Jahlil's place first, then Nia's. They arrived last at the
Hunter family home.

David was crossing the sidewalk, lugging a suitcase packed
with clothes to the trailer, when a champagne Lincoln limousine slid down the street and parked in front of the house.

Frowning, he placed the luggage on the ground.

A chauffeur, attired in a formal black suit and a cap,
stepped outside the limousine. He nodded at David, strode to
the rear passenger door, and pulled it open in a reverential
manner, as though he were serving a member of royalty.

Two figures slipped out of the limo. The first was a tall,
lean black man who wore shades, an elegant hat, and a fine
dark suit. For a reason that David could not define, the man
was familiar-looking.

But the second person was the stunner: an exquisitely
beautiful black woman clothed in a midnight-blue dress and
a matching, wide-brimmed hat. She wore a pair of tinted
glasses, too.

After all that he had experienced, David had thought that
it would be impossible for him to ever be shocked again, but
he felt as though he had closed his hand over a live wire.

The woman's movements were so smooth that she appeared to glide across the distance between them.

"It's you," he said, breathlessly.

The ancient vampire, Lisha, smiled.

"I received word that you had returned," she said. "I had
intended to visit the town, to see it with my own eyes, and
what better time to come than when you would be present?"

His mouth was dry. "I ... I don't know what to say. All I
can say is, thank you for helping us. I don't know why you
did it, but I'm glad that you did."

"Diallo was a cancer upon the earth," she said. "He would
have consumed this world had I not intervened. In the process,
his ill-advised actions would have drawn attention to our kind
and brought destruction and misery upon us all. I could never
allow such a disaster."

David nodded. "So you used me to save yourself. What
about your son, Kyle?"

"Kyle had too much of his father in him. He would have
become a problem in his own right, in time."

What kind of mother could so callously dismiss her own
son? David comprehended how inhuman this creature really
was. Although she looked like a woman, and had a woman's
voice, and a sweet, feminine scent, too, there was nothing
genuinely human about her. She was as alien as a species
that might be found at the edge of the galaxy.

She appeared to sense his opinion of her, and looked
amused. "You would have to live a millenia to understand,
my child. Humans place their hope in heavenly salvation.
But my only religion is self-preservation."