Her Vampyrrhic Heart (7 page)

‘This might seem brutal, but the last thing you'd want to see is that thing's face.'

‘
Thing? It's a man, not a thing.
'

‘Hurry up.'

‘Stop! You're hurting me!'

That's when the silent figure moved. And, dear God, it moved so fast. Tom didn't even have time to react before the figure slammed into him. He tumbled down the river bank. Seconds later, a hand grabbed his hair. An enormous force pressed his face down into the water at the river's edge. Brilliant lights exploded inside his head. He couldn't breathe. His attacker was hell-bent on drowning him.

Though he struggled, he couldn't lift his face clear. Bubbles spurted from his lips. Cold water jetted up his nose. Then the lights inside his head grew dim. They became clots of purple. Then the purple became darker … blacker … he stopped moving. Terrifying thoughts flowed through his head:
I can't breathe. I'm going to die.
Everything after that: darkness. Just darkness.

A
t nine o'clock Owen Westonby and Jez Pollock dropped by Kit's house to find out if he'd uncovered the pod's secret. Kit lived here with his mother at the end of a dirt track on the edge of the village. Owen always felt a twinge of sadness when he visited Kit. The house, which had once been part of a farm, had seen better days. Its wooden window frames had rotted. The garage roof had collapsed. Owen knew that Kit made running repairs, but Mrs Bolter often complained of the noise if he used a hammer or power drill, and she made him stop work.

Kit's mother was antisocial, and that was putting it mildly. When she'd too much booze inside of her she'd subject visitors to vicious rants about whatever happened to be preoccupying her at the time. Normally, Kit's friends avoided the Bolter house. However, Kit had sent Owen a text:
Pod progress:-) Call in. Mother asleep.

Jez spoke in a low voice as they picked their way through the gloom. ‘I bet Kit's counting the days until he goes to university, then he'll be able to get away from this dump.'

‘I don't suppose Mrs Bolter likes living in squalor, either.'

‘You always see the best in people, don't you?' Jez had to lift the broken garden gate in order to open it. ‘Mrs Bolter likes living inside a whisky bottle. Get my meaning? She chose to wind up like this.'

Owen opened his mouth to disagree; however, he saw Kit at the door, so he kept silent. He didn't want Kit to know that they'd been discussing his mother.

Instead, Owen hooted, ‘The mad scientist. Found out what Mr Pod is yet?'

‘Shush. My mother's in bed.'

‘Are you sure you want us here?'

Kit stood back to let them in. ‘Usually a bomb wouldn't wake her, but best not make too much noise. I'll only get an earful if she knows you've been round.'

Both Owen and Jez pretended to zip their mouths shut. Kit smiled, though Owen noticed his manner seemed odd, as if his friend had something on his mind.

‘Go through to the back room.' Owen pointed to a door along the passageway.

Soon they found themselves in a parlour that had been crowded with mismatched furniture. Again, Owen felt that keen twinge of sadness. The hand-me-down sofa, chairs and table signalled that not everyone led a problem-free life. He didn't believe for one moment that Mrs Bolter was a bad person – even at sixteen he realized that given enough personal setbacks and broken dreams anyone could find themselves down on their luck like this.

Kit indicated the sofa. ‘Grab a seat.'

Owen and Jez sat down.

‘So, what you got for us, Kit?' Jez nodded at the metal pod that sat on the floor beneath the TV.

‘It's a camera,' Kit announced.

‘Is that all?' Owen felt disappointed.

‘Not just any camera.' Kit knelt down beside the pod. ‘I've dismantled it and found a movement sensor; you know the sort, you get them in security lights. They trigger the light when something moves in front of them.'

‘So, a security camera?'

‘Nope. A wildlife camera. That's why you found this baby out in the forest. The pod got smashed up, the housing's vanished completely, but this was designed to film whatever triggered the sensor.'

‘I really expected it to be a missile that'd dropped off a fighter.' Jez groaned with disappointment. ‘Something interesting.'

‘This is interesting … very interesting.' Kit smiled as if ready to spring an exciting surprise. ‘You should see what's been filmed by the camera.'

‘A manky squirrel?' suggested Jez.

‘A one-legged dormouse,' added Owen.

‘Better than that. In fact, something you'd never guess in a million years.'

Jez became interested again. ‘Naked people getting rumpy-pumpy in the woods?'

‘Just you wait and see. All I have to do is connect the cable to the television; then I use this chopstick to press a tiny play-button inside the pod.'

Owen and Jez stared hopefully at the blank television screen.

Jez grinned. ‘I bet it's people. Stark naked.'

‘You've got a dirty mind,' Kit told him. ‘In fact, it's a lot more interesting than bare flesh.'

Kit poked the chopstick into the pod's casing. He poked again.

Jez slapped the arm of the sofa. ‘C'mon, Kit. This suspense is killing me.'

Kit grunted. ‘Battery's flat.'

‘What?'

‘No power.'

‘You mean, you can't show us what's been recorded by the camera?'

‘I'm going home.' Jez stood up.

Kit disconnected the lead from the pod. ‘The battery's been damaged. For some reason it discharges even when the camera's switched off. It'll only take me twenty minutes to put some juice back into it.'

‘This secret film better be worth the wait,' grumbled Jez.

‘It is, guys. Believe me: it most definitely is. You're not going to believe your eyes.'

‘T
om, you said it couldn't hurt me … well, it went and hurt you.'

Tom Westonby looked up at the beautiful woman who spoke to him. The dark skin contrasted so strikingly with the blue eyes.

‘Tom, can you understand what I'm telling you?'

He nodded. A ferocious ache in his neck made him flinch.

‘Do you remember? You said the man wouldn't do anything to us if we kept walking. You were so wrong. He knocked you clean across the path. After that, he pushed your face into the river and half-drowned you. If I hadn't been there you'd be dead now.'

Tom rubbed his aching head. His hair was damp. A towel lay on the arm of the chair. Had she dried his hair? Evidently so. He saw half a cup of coffee on the table beside him, and though he could taste coffee on his lips he didn't remember drinking any.

‘Nearly drowned?' he echoed as her words sank in. ‘Were you hurt?'

‘I'm fine. But I had to yell and fight the guy who tried to murder you. Finally, I got him to scoot.'

‘Bravo.' OK, maybe not the perfect response. This groggy feeling made thinking difficult. He tried again. ‘Thanks. You saved my life.'

‘The cottage was closer than my car, so I decided to get you back here.'

He groaned as he sat up straight in the armchair. This felt like the meanest of hangovers.

‘Try not to move. You've been unconscious for the last ten minutes.'

‘Did you get a clear look at who attacked me?'

June Valko shook her head. ‘When he pounced, the torch went flying away into the bushes. I decided to fight the monster off before getting the light back, so I'm afraid I won't be able to give the police a description. It was too dark to see much.'

‘Monster? You said monster?'

‘Figure of speech. Monster, psycho, weirdo, nut-job. He must be one of those to just dive on you like that. He didn't say anything, but I could tell he'd gone totally berserk.'

‘He didn't try and attack you?'

She gave a grim smile. ‘No, it was your blood he wanted.'

‘Thank God you know how to fight.'

‘Or shout. It was only when I yelled that he stopped trying to drown you and …
ffft
. He vanished back into the trees.'

When he coughed he could taste the river. He must have swallowed a bellyful. June watched his face closely. He could tell that she was worried about him.

‘Don't worry. I'll live,' he told her. ‘What time is it?'

‘Half past nine.'

Tom noticed that she'd piled logs into the huge fireplace. They blazed up the throat of the chimney so powerfully that they filled the room with a golden light as well as warmth.

‘Here.' She handed him the coffee. ‘I found some brandy; that's gone in with three spoons of sugar.'

The coffee tasted syrupy sweet. Immediately, the brandy shot fire through his veins. ‘Phew. Now that's what I call medicine.'

Just as he finished speaking there was a tremendous crash of breaking glass.

‘Damn,' she hissed, ‘he's come back again.'

‘
Again?
' Tom lurched to his feet. ‘You mean that guy's tried breaking in here?'

‘When you were passed out in the chair he was doing his best to smash down the front door. Now he's gone round the back.'

June sped towards the kitchen, Tom followed. Even before they made it through the kitchen door the lights suddenly died. Some of the firelight filtered through the doorway, however. In the gloom, he made out the back door. Set in the door itself were glass panels. One had been smashed. A pale hand reached through the broken pane, trying to reach the key in the lock. Whipping the key out, she threw it to Tom. She began dragging a stout timber dresser towards the door. Plates trembled on the shelves of the dresser, and then one after another they began to topple. To the sound of smashing crocks, Tom helped June shove the dresser against the door to act as a barricade.

On the other side of the kitchen window a face loomed from the darkness. Soon that pale oval was just inches from the glass. Tom quickly dragged down the blind.

She spun round to Tom. ‘Who's out there?'

Instead of answering, he shoved the heavy kitchen table across the floor, adding its weight to the dresser.

‘Why are they trying to kill you?' she demanded

‘They never tried this before. It's got to be something to do with you.'

‘ME!' Her reaction was one of total shock. ‘What has you being attacked got to do with me?'

‘I wish I knew.'

‘Tom, who's out there?'

Once again he didn't answer. This time because the sound of pounding came from the other room. Tom ran back into the lounge. The timber door shook as fists pounded on it from the other side. Thankfully, June had remembered to turn the key in the lock. Even so, he didn't waste any time sliding across a pair of thick iron bolts.

‘Keep an eye on the door in the kitchen,' he told her. ‘There's a chance he might be able to break through.'

‘What about the windows?'

‘They've all got bars over them.'

‘Even upstairs?'

‘This place is built like a fortress.'

Once more he went from window to window, pulling down blinds and drawing curtains, sealing them from prying eyes.

Meanwhile, June's eyes flashed with fear. ‘Why don't you want them looking in?'

‘It's not just that. I don't want you seeing them.'

‘Why?'

‘Because I want to keep your reason intact. We're going to have to rely on our wits tonight if we're going to survive.'

‘Riddles … riddles! Why don't you give me plain, straightforward answers?'

‘Because there are no plain, straightforward answers. You've landed in the middle of the mother and father of all mysteries.' He added more wood to the fire in order to provide light rather than heat. ‘You've stepped across a threshold where the real world can be turned upside down and inside out. A place where death doesn't mean the dead stop moving.'

‘Now you really are starting to frighten me.' She backed off until she reached the wall. ‘Are you insane?'

‘I wouldn't be as terrified as I am now if I was.'

Another crash filled the lounge as a heavy object struck the door. A second crash came from the kitchen.

‘Now there are two of them,' he told her. ‘More will be here soon.'

‘What should we do?'

‘Prepare for a siege. Whatever happens we can't let them get in.'

June swallowed. ‘Did I tell you that I'm too young to die?'

He admired her ability to make a joke in the face of being surrounded by … OK, use her word: MONSTERS. The house had been surrounded by monsters, they were under siege, and he didn't know whether they'd make it until morning. Within a few hours, they might be dead … or worse than dead. Much,
much
worse than dead.

T
om Westonby had almost been drowned an hour ago. He'd been attacked as he'd walked June Valko back to the car. Right now, he assessed the situation – and the danger they faced.

As he lit candles dotted about the room, he ran through the facts. ‘So we're under siege here.'

June shuddered. ‘At least this place has got thick walls and bars over the windows.'

‘The downside is they seem to have cut the power. We'll keep a big fire going – it kicks out plenty of light. We've food and drink, of course. And as soon as it's daylight I'll get you out of here.'

June sounded puzzled, ‘How can you be sure that these siege guys will leave when it's light?'

‘At least I do know that much.'

‘So you know who they are?'

‘Yes.'

Once more she appeared baffled. ‘Then why won't you tell me who's out there?'

‘I was going to explain when we met up again.'

‘Tell me now.'