Whitby Vampyrrhic (37 page)

Tommy opened his eyes. He appeared drowsy; his eyelids were almost too heavy to keep raised. She hugged the light frame to her. Sam moved a little so he could press his body alongside that of his companion's. Beth could sense the dog wanted her to help the child; those canine eyes were so expressive. In the reflected glow of the searchlights, she couldn't see anything amiss. Then she noticed a dark stain on the boulder. She touched the back of Tommy's head.

Beth felt wetness on her fingertips. ‘It's when those vampires came charging through the bushes. One must have knocked Tommy off his feet so hard he hit his head on the stone.'

Sally's eyes watered. ‘He'll be alright. I mean, he's not a human boy.'

Alec crouched down. ‘He's one of the vampires; they're not easy to kill.'

Eleanor shook her head sadly. ‘He never hurt anyone. If you ask me, he wasn't quite the same as the vampires. He'd not transformed like them.'

Beth stroked his face. ‘I'd always seen Tommy as a boy that haunted the body of a vampire. I can't see that now. Something's changed.' She lowered her head so Tommy had a clear view of her face. ‘It's alright. We'll look after you.'

His voice came as a soft sigh, ‘I'm not afraid.'

‘I know you're not. You're a hero. We all love you.'

Tommy rested his hand on the dog's back, then that slight body that had seemed so light in Beth's arms grew heavy. Even so, the lad raised his head a little so he could look over her shoulder.

‘That's funny,' he murmured. ‘All that time I spent trying to find my mother and father –' his eyes glinted – ‘and now they've found me.'

Beth glanced back in the direction he was smiling. She saw the underside of the clouds, and nothing more. Then she felt Tommy relax in her arms; this time the weight pulled her downwards.

‘Let me help,' Sally whispered.

Together, they rested the body on the ground. Tommy lay, as if in a deep sleep. Eyes closed, serenely still.

And finally, from the distance, came the rising call of the siren. This held a different sound to the one that warned of imminent attack. That distinctive note signalled the all clear. The threat of enemy bombers was over. The siren's sweet voice sang out to a night-time world:
The danger has passed. You're safe. All is well. All is well.