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Authors: Tim O'Rourke

Tags: #General Fiction

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BOOK: Dead Seth
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I believe this explanation was given purely for my brother and me, as I guessed my sisters already understood the plot. “We won’t be coming back here, so you better grab some of your toys and be quick about it.”

Yes, I had toys, not many. My father would bring some home on rare occasions from the human world on the other side of the forest or he would make them. I had been to that world a few times before. We had schools like them, places to buy food, and medicine men that we saw when we were sick. Just like humans, we celebrated birthdays, we’d heard of Christmas, but we had our own winter festival which was named Candlemas. The caves would be lit with candles for as far as you could see in each direction, making the world behind the fountain look as if it were ablaze. On the night the candles were lit, we would exchange gifts. With Candlemas only just over, there were some new toys I had been given.

Asking me to pick just a couple was impossible.

How do you expect an eight-year-old kid to choose between his toys, for fuck’s sake? It would be like asking a mother to choose between her children.

“C’mon, hurry up!” My mother’s command dragged me from my daze and I stared at her.

“If you don’t hurry up, then I will choose for you!” Her impatience filled the cave.

I scrambled around, grabbing a handful of toy cars and tiny soldiers, which I clutched to my chest. Throwing them into a bag that Lorre had handed to me, I dashed for my toy bear that sat grinning at me from the chair. I held the soft toy close and sniffed his ear. It was a familiar smell in a world that was changing fast.

Ronnie and my mother scooped up the sacks and carried them from the cave. I didn’t really understand the severity of what was happening. The thought of never seeing my toys again, my bedroom, my home and everything else that seemed familiar, was too unreal for me to comprehend. It was a game, a scary game that made me feel sick with tension. Of course I was going to see all of this again, I had to, my Dad lived here, and this was home.

The last of the bags were dragged from the stone hallway and our mother ushered us into the passageways running between the other caves. The caves were cold in the winter and even with all the added layers of clothes, I still shivered and pulled my coat tight around me.

Huddled together, and the bags trailing in the dirt behind us, we followed my mother and the woman named Ronnie through the stone passageways, passing the closed shutters of the caves on either side of us, until we reached the path that led up to the mouth of the fountain. As we drew near, the sound of the blood-red water racing upwards sounded like thunder. Reaching the waterfall, my mother huddled us together into a small group, and ushered us around the edge of the water and out into the night.

There was a boat moored next to a small wooden jetty which stuck out from the side of the lake and into the crimson waters. Ronnie and my mother raced down the jetty and started to throw the bags containing our belongings onto the boat.

The black night was clear and star-shot, and the vast forest which surrounded the lake looked dark and menacing. My mother cast off the boat and Ronnie beckoned us towards her with a long, slender set of pale fingers. I climbed aboard and sat crammed between my brother and two sisters as the boat crept silently out across the water and into the night.

Chapter Three

Jack

 

On the other side of the vast red lake, we climbed from the boat and made our way through the forests, guided by the light of a pale moon.

Clear of the trees, we found a car, which had been left waiting for us. Just like they had before, my mother and Ronnie hurriedly stashed the bags into the boot. We climbed inside and continued our journey.

As the car drew to a standstill outside a large black iron gate, I realised I had been here before. During the build-up to Candlemas, my mother had brought us from our home in the caves to this very same place. Rik and I had been left in the grounds, which surrounded the big Victorian house, while my mother and sisters had gone inside. Afterwards, Mother had stressed to us the importance of keeping this trip a secret from my father.

“I will be really angry if you breathe so much as a word about this to him!” she informed us, her eyes bright, that yellow tinge creeping around her black pupils.

So here we were again, standing outside this big house which was hidden from the rest of the world behind high brick walls and a gate; only on this occasion, Rik and I were going inside.

Ronnie escorted us down a hallway, past a bare wooden staircase that vanished up into the dark. Further along the passage, we were led into a room at the rear of the house. I peered around and could see mattresses and bedding on the floor, and a set of bunk beds along one wall. We just stood there, our cheeks flushed scarlet from the cold, and looked at one another for what seemed the longest time. Ronnie and my mother disappeared from the room and returned with our belongings. On seeing my bag of toys, I snatched them up and held them tight. Ronnie looked down at me and winked.

“All right?” she asked.

Ronnie was about thirty years old I guessed. She had long, straight black hair which hung about her shoulders. Her face was so very pale, that I wondered if she wasn’t ill. She didn’t seem ill, but I had never seen such pale skin before.

I felt that ice-cold hand in the back of my throat again, but this time its fingers flicked hot bile into my mouth. I suddenly puked and Ronnie dashed from the room and reappeared with a bowl that she thrust into my hands. Clutching the bowl to my chest, I heaved. After a short time, mother handed me a tissue and asked if I was okay. I nodded slowly and Mother explained to Ronnie that it was all the upset that had caused me to be sick. Ronnie looked as if she understood and moved towards the door. As she was about to leave, my mother spoke, thanking her for all the help that she had given. Ronnie looked back at her as she slipped out of the room.

Without a great deal of talk, and no explanation as to what was going on, Mother got us ready for bed. I was in the top bunk and Rik was on the bottom. Lorre and Kara were in the makeshift beds on the floor with my mother. Once the light was out, I lay awake and tried to make sense of my new surroundings in the darkness. I listened to the sounds this house made during the night, as pipes expanded and the floorboards creaked. But none of these sounds were familiar here. They weren’t the sounds I had grown accustomed to over the last eight years of my life in my own bed at home, behind the fountains. I missed the distant sound of the waters crashing into the rocks like thunder. These new sounds were the sounds of monsters again, shape-changing and dancing in the dark. I used the bowl that Ronnie had handed to me several more times during that first night until my stomach was tight with cramps, and my throat was raw.

The next few days and weeks all seemed to roll into one as we familiarised ourselves with our new surroundings and the situation we now found ourselves in. On that first morning, I remember being woken by the sounds of my sisters getting dressed. I rolled over and looked down at them from my bunk. They were pulling clean clothes from the rubbish sacks and putting them on; gone was the order and normality of wardrobes and cupboards. I spied the rest of the room and looked for our mother amongst the blankets and bedding on the floor. Lorre must have read my searching eyes, as she informed me that Mum was already up and was talking to a lady about something. I noticed Kara had pulled her long, blonde hair into pigtails and I could see her pretty face was ashen. Swinging my legs over the side of the bunk, I dropped to the floor, waking Rik.

Our first morning in that house was fucking awful. I felt totally lost and bewildered. I think all of us felt the same, even Lorre and Kara, who had played such a large part in the previous night’s events. All of us appeared to have this perplexed expression pulled down over our faces.

As we were finishing getting dressed, our mother came into the room and closed the door behind her.

“I’ve spoken to a lady who’s going to sort you out some breakfast. She’s really nice, her name is Elaine.” Mother had a light and jovial tone to her voice, but I wonder if it hadn’t been put on for our benefit. She looked about the room and then at us.

“I’m sorry about this, but it just couldn’t be helped. There was nothing else I could have done. You have your father to thank for this.”

Over the next few years, I would grow very accustomed to that phrase.

“What is this place?” I asked her.

“Somewhere we can all be safe from the wolves,” she replied, as if I should have already known this. “Somewhere we can hide until the people here can find us someplace else to live.”

“But we are wolves, aren’t we?” I persisted. She ignored my question and continued.

“It’s going to be a nightmare for all of us for a while, but I promise it won’t be for long, only until I get things sorted out.”

Everything seemed to be coming at me all at once. I was still trying to absorb the drastic changes that had occurred in the previous twelve hours. I could feel my brain beginning to swell.

She came amongst us and huddled us altogether, as if we were having a halftime meeting, and whispered in an encouraging tone.

“If we all stick together and look out for one another, we’ll do just fine. If we do, your father won’t be able to hurt us anymore.”

Her last comment went off in my brain like a firecracker.

What did she mean, “
Your father won’t
be able to hurt us anymore.
”? I looked towards Lorre, then Kara, in the hope they could read my puzzled thoughts, but they had their heads tilted towards the floor.

Rik screwed up his face in a grimace. At the age of four, he probably had very little understanding of the situation. I was struggling to make sense of it.

Our mother took both our hands in hers and said, “You’re both going to be very brave.

You’ll understand what’s going on in time and realise it’s for the best.” She then pulled us all together for a team hug. I looked up at my mother, her dark eyes almost black, her thick lips pulled into a nervous smile as she looked back at me.

Linked hand in hand like a chain, my mother led us into a vast room at the front of the house. I immediately noticed the difference compared to my own home. The furniture was mismatched and old, resembling items that had been salvaged from a bin. Thick purple curtains hung at the bay windows and a worn green carpet covered the floor. I thought Lorre would feel at home, as I spied a rocking chair in one corner. Rik and I squeezed into a chair together, and to be close to him felt wonderful. Our arms and legs brushing together made me feel as if we were one. I felt less vulnerable sitting next to him like that. I noticed that he was still clutching badger and I suspected he hadn’t put him down since the night before. To my surprise, Lorre didn’t hijack the rocking chair, but had squeezed into a chair with Kara. The room must have had at least eight chairs in it, but the four of us had managed to cram ourselves into two.

A woman entered the room and our mother introduced us to her in turn, and then announced that this was Elaine.

“Elaine works here. It’s her job to make sure everything runs smoothly,” Mother explained.

Elaine, like the other lady, was tall, pretty, and very pale-looking. I wondered if either of them had ever seen sunlight. She was holding a plate of toast in her hands, which she offered to us. We all took a slice. My stomach still felt bruised from my vomiting the night before, but it still managed to perform tiny somersaults with hunger. The toast must have been prepared some time ago, because as I bit into it, it was cold and the thick layer of butter that was smeared across it had congealed into a yellow mess. Mouthful by tiny mouthful, I forced it down with a grateful smile.

Come my ninth birthday a few weeks later, I hadn’t seen, spoken to, or had any contact with my father. By now I was wondering if I ever wanted to again. During those first strained few weeks, my mother had been mindful at getting me by herself, either on visits into the local village or on chilly, stormy walks along the beach. On these occasions, mother had seized upon the moment to explain why she had taken us away from our father. I had never spent so long on the other side of the fountain before – in the human world – and I wondered if and when I would ever go back.

“Your father did some terrible things, Jack,” she said. “As you know, our race was cursed many hundreds of years ago by the Elders because of the unspeakable crimes our ancestors committed against women and children. Because of what they did,
we
have been punished. We have a monster living within each of us – the wolf.

There are some of us who believe that we can have the curse lifted if we choose a different way of living – a peaceful existence, one without killing. I believed that your father felt the same at first. Then, he changed. The wolf inside of him took over. I discovered that he had started to kill.

He had been going beyond the fountain and the forests and murdering humans. I pled with him to stop, fearing he would bring the curse down upon all of us, or be caught for his crimes and bring death upon all of us. But he turned his anger on me and your sisters.”

I felt bewildered and shocked by what she had said. She went on to paint the darkest picture possible of my father, pulling at my senses and leaving me without doubt that he was some vile monster who should be loathed and hated for what he had put her and my sisters through.

“So is that why we have run away?” I asked her.

“Yes,” she nodded, looking down into my upturned face.

“But who are these people you have brought us to live with?”

“They are Vampyrus,” she said, just above a whisper.

I had heard of such creatures before. My father had spoken about them. “But don’t the Vampyrus hunt down and kill the wolves, mother?” I asked her.

“Only the bad wolves,” she half-smiled at me. “Only the killers.”

“Like my father?” I asked, my lips tasting salty from the sea air.

BOOK: Dead Seth
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