The Bitter End (11 page)

She seriously considered swimming. She was a good swimmer but it was a long way to the nearest boat and she was tired from a long day and what felt like most of a night being scared. If she tried to swim she figured she stood a good chance of drowning.

There really was only one option, she would have to go in land and take shelter in the forest until morning. If she had realised the danger she was in she might have called for help but she didn't. The surface part of her was convinced that the danger was all in her head and it seemed like a worse fate to get wet or create a fuss by shouting for help than it did to put up with being scared for a few hours. Besides, Margaret would never let her forget it if she didn't.

With more than a little reluctance Kirsty turned around. Her feet had sunk into the muddy bank and she had to pull them out of the ground with a slurping squelch. She looked at the hill and without giving herself time to change her mind she started to climb it.

The long grass moved in the wind and scratched against her legs. She couldn't see more than twenty metres ahead with any clarity, the cluster of trees that she knew to be in the distance were just a vague shape in the darkness. Still she looked around as if she might see something, a friend or an enemy, but there was no one there.

Once she had made her decision and climbed to the top of the hill she walked on quickly, keen to get out of the cold. The forest wouldn't offer much protection but it seemed like her only option and if she pressed herself against one of the large trees it would, at worst, protect her from the wind.

She hurried across the field and did her best to ignore the irregular throbbing of her heart. Her mouth was dry and her skin moist.

There were noises that she hadn't accounted for. Away from the steady sound of water lapping against boats she could hear owls hooting and night insects chirruping. She tuned them out as best she could but they were still there, grating against her frail nerves.

Alone on the vast field she almost broke into a run but managed to keep herself under control. She was aware that if she lost it now she might never get it back and she didn't want to spend the entire night jumping at every falling leaf and cracking twig.

When Kirsty finally reached the forest she was soaked through with panic. Her breathing was as rapid as if she had just run a marathon and she couldn't hear anything except the pounding of blood in her ears. She found a tree in the centre of the cluster and collapsed against it. The rough bark scratched her back as she slid down to the floor.

Kirsty felt like crying but the tears wouldn't come. She was scared and alone and she just wanted to go home. Maybe it would be better to swim for it. She wrapped her arms around herself and knew that she wouldn't dare do that, the idea of jumping in the icy cold water was enough to scare her.

Sleep took her unaware. She opened her eyes and the quality of he night had changed enough for her to realise time had passed. The dark was somehow deeper, it had a weight to it that it hadn't had before. The wind had stopped and the cold had gotten into the ground beneath her. She wasn't sure what (a noise perhaps) but something had woken her.

She wiped the moisture from her face and listened. Her anxiety about what might be out there

(vamps)

was tempered by the hope that it might be her friends come back for her. As quietly as she could manage she climbed to her feet. Her legs were stiff and sore. She looked around the tree but she couldn't see anything. It must have been a bird or a rabbit or something else, she decided, nothing to get excited or worried about.

Then she saw something move

(creep)

in the moon shadows beyond the trees. Hunched over like an animal the black shape moved across the field. Kirsty held her breath and prayed for it to go away but when it disappeared from view she did not feel any better.

She swallowed dry air and it stuck in her throat. She squeezed her fists together and tried not to cough, her nails dug into her palms. It was out there: a vamp.

Kirsty had never actually seen a vampire before. Her mum had told her all about them, of course, and how people had lived before they came along. What her mum hadn't told her she had picked up from friends and at school. She understood about vampires in theory: if you got bitten you either died or turned into one of them; vampires were strong and fast; the only way to kill a vampire was by piercing their heart with wood; blah, blah, blah.

Understanding was one thing but it hadn't prepared her for how it would feel to encounter one. The feeling of dread that had turned her legs to jelly, the disgust and abhorrence of beholding the unnatural perversion. She could feel the bile rising in her throat and forced it down. She tried to make herself to relax a little so she could listen and try to work out where it had gone.

All she could hear was the wind whipping through the tree branches above her and through the grass in the field. She discovered then that she really was scared of vamps and thought that when

(if)

she got home she would proudly admit to being scared of them, regardless of what Margaret Coley thought.

She heard a crunch behind her and froze. She didn't dare turn around. She told herself that it was just a branch, that it had probably fallen out of a tree or an animal had stood on it.

Then she felt a cold hand on her arm. An icy chill seemed to radiate from it.

The air had suddenly gone from her lungs and she couldn't even scream. She felt warm urine soaking through her knickers and tears streaming down her face.

She could hear it breathing and smelled rotten flesh. She choked down the rancid air and from nowhere she found the strength to move.

Kirsty ran. She pushed past the branches that hung across the path, felt them making tiny cuts on her face but ignored them. She could see the edge of the field beyond the forest now and made for that. The muscles in her legs burned and it felt as if she was swallowing poison air. She kept running.

She couldn't hear the vamp behind her but she knew it would be there. A part of her knew that she wasn't going to get away from it, that even on her best day she couldn't hope to outrun it and today was far from her best day. But she kept running because she knew something else about vamps; they couldn't go through water. If she just made it to the river then she would be okay. She might end up with a cold or worse but nothing could really be worse than getting caught by a vamp.

Kirsty Louise Lorimer made it almost half-way from the forest to the river before the vampire got her. She felt as much as heard it leap through the air towards her. Her breath caught in her throat and her entire body became rigid. Its nails tore deep gashes, through her shirt and down her back. It stung as the cold air made contact with the fresh wounds. She thought it would hurt even more when she made it to the water.

She didn't make it to the water.

Now on her back the vamp pulled her to the ground. Its body seemed both lighter than air and as heavy as a boat. She lay on her face and tore at the damp grass trying to pull herself away but it made no difference.

She could feel the cold breath of the vamp on her neck, then its teeth. She remained fully conscious and aware as two needle-like fangs pressed against the tender flesh of her neck and then popped through.

Kirsty screamed as she felt, actually felt, the blood being drawn through the veins in her neck and out of the two puncture holes. It came at an unnatural pace. Within seconds she felt as if she was suffering from a bad case of the flu; her entire body felt weak and she could no longer even move her arms to flap at the ground. She lay still.

At some point she must have passed out. When she was next aware of anything she realised she was alone. The heavy weight had gone from her back. Tentatively, almost experimentally, she tried to sit up. The ground was warm and wet beneath her but it didn't seem to matter.

She raised a hand to her neck and felt two small lumps but the skin was unbroken

(already healed)

and her hands came away clean. She wondered if she had somehow survived the attack. Maybe something had come along and scared the vamp away. She wondered what terrible thing could possibly scare a vamp. The only thing she came up with was a bigger, badder vamp.

The idea of going back to the river no longer seemed appealing. She was thirsty but the idea of jumping in the water wasn't just unappealing, it felt akin to jumping into a fire. She stood up and turned back towards the little cluster of trees. It no longer scared her to go back that way but she didn't think she would stop there. There was no need to go back to the village now, there were better things to do with her time than waiting on an abusive father.

All of the aches and pains that she had felt were gone. If anything she felt better than she ever had before. She seemed to float above the land which she could see more clearly now. Each blade of the long grass shone like a lamp, each tree stood alone and independent. There was a new sound as well, a throbbing and gushing sound that made her thirst greater.

Kirsty Louise Lorimer passed through the cluster of trees and into her new life.

2

Old Groche stood with his head in his hands. His sons either side of him. He'd already lost a daughter and now a grandchild too. Ben felt sorry for him, even if he was a miserable wretch most of the time. He turned away from the scene as more people arrived and went into the Village Hall.

Nicholas's door was closed but he could hear shouting. He opened the door and found Nicholas sitting calmly behind his desk talking to three girls who couldn't have been much older than thirteen. Nicholas broke off from what he was saying and looked up when Ben walked through the door.

"Cora..." he said and the room seemed to freeze. Why had his sisters name come to his lips and right then? It seemed as if everyone was looking at him. He wet his lips. "You wanted to see me?"

Nicholas nodded. "Sit down Ben. I want you to hear what these young ladies have to say."

He looked around but couldn't see a seat so he crossed his arms and nodded for them to continue.

"Okay Margaret," said Nicholas, his voice calm and level but his fingers jiving on the table giving those who knew him a deeper insight into his thought process. "Lets go through this again."

The girl with short dark hair looked up at him, her cheeks were wet but her face set in a scowl. "Who's he?"

"This is Ben," said Nicholas. "He's going to help me find your friend."

Her face broke into a relieved smile and she tilted her head up to look at him, "are you? Really?"

Ben felt a little uncomfortable, not about what was being said exactly, more at the way she was saying it. But her friend was missing, he supposed, she probably didn't know how to react. "I'm going to do my best," he said because over the years he'd found that not only wouldn't he lie to his wife but that he wouldn't lie to children either.

"Fuck you," she said and then leaned back in her seat with her arms folded across her chest.

Ben was shocked by her attitude. He was there because Nicholas had sent for him, because there was a little girl missing and because he thought he could help. He turned and looked at Nicholas.

"Margaret please," said Nicholas. His hands were squeezed together in tight fists. "We're trying to help Kirsty."

Margaret looked away from him and for a while Ben thought that the meeting would end there. Then one of the other girls leaned towards Margaret. Ben couldn't hear what she was saying but when she had finished Margaret said, "fine, I'll tell him."

He waited while she turned herself towards him, sat up and brushed strands of dark hair out of her face. The other girls could have told him what had happened but he hadn't been in the room for five seconds before he'd realised that there was a strict hierarchy within the group.

"She's on Back Field," said Margaret and was apparently happy to leave it at that.

Ben took a breath and tried to remain calm

(it's happening again)

while he spoke. "What's she doing there?"

Margaret turned and looked at the girl who had gotten her to speak. She nodded then Margaret turned back to Ben. He realised that whatever she told him now was unlikely to be the whole truth. "She wanted to go. We tried to stop her but she said we were just scared. She took the boat but we, I, thought she would come back as soon as she saw what it was like. She just ran off onto the field."

Ben looked at Nicholas who shrugged. Then back to Margaret. "What did you do then?"

"We waited for her but it was late. We were going to go back and look for her this morning but I guess her dad realised she was gone already."

"Why didn't you come and tell someone last night?" said Nicholas. "You know where I live, you could have woken me."

"We didn't want to get her in trouble," said Margaret. Then she seemed to change her whole demeanour in a way that seemed forced to Ben. She started to sniff as if she was crying but there were no tears. "I'm really sorry," she said, shaking her head. The words became almost impossible to understand. "We shouldn't have let her go and we should have told someone straight away. We didn't think she would do it."

"What was she wearing?" said Ben.