Halton Cray (Shadows of the World Book 1) (37 page)

Seth cleared his throat. ‘Guys? Uh, if you wanna
go get yourselves a room or maybe I’ll just come back later?’

Thom smiled, sighed with relief and released me. ‘I
see Alex has made a start on where we need an opening. Seth, maybe you can
continue making this hole larger. Large enough to fit yourself through.’

Once he’d cut the hole, Seth returned to the car
and traded the cutters for the shovels.

‘Ready?’ he said, handing me one, before making
his way through the fence.

I nodded and followed him inside, leaving Thom a
spectator. Seth pointed out the spot for Thom to confirm and there we started
digging.

‘How deep are we going?’ I asked.

‘Three feet,’ Thom replied from the recess.

‘Them’s the rules,’ added Seth with a snigger. ‘Six
for humans, three for animals.’ He shot up his eyebrows.

A beam of streetlight found its way diagonally
through the branches, hitting the patch of soil we excavated, near a lone
grave. A shadowed mesh of leaves bounced in the breeze, yet shading it.

I found the looser soil far easier to turn than
English clay-ridden earth. The wind picked up and I wasn’t so glad to have it
blown in my face. We struggled to see clearly in the dimness, but Thom couldn’t
lend us his eyes. All he could do was try to keep his spirits up so that his
mist remained fine, even as it engulfed us.

‘I’m sorry to you both,’ he said suddenly, as we
gained on only the first foot of depth. ‘I’m sorry I cannot help and must sit
here about as useful as a clown at a funeral.’

I paused in my digging to reply, but a car pulled
up in the road, and on turning, its headlights flooded the cemetery. Seth and I
ducked down in the trench we’d so far dug and waited. The car completed a
U-turn and pulled away.

‘God!’ I said, holding my chest. ‘I thought we’d
been rumbled.’

Seth whistled a tune of relief. ‘Me too!’

When finished we concealed the open grave with loose
vegetation. On returning to the car, I asked what was in the blue holdall. The
mystery was driving me nuts.

‘I’m glad you reminded me,’ said Thom, reaching down
to it as he sat again in the back. The bag was at his feet. He unzipped it and pulled
out a sealed bag containing a dark liquid.

‘Is that blood?’

‘Donated this morning.’ Seth nodded.

‘
That’s
what you were doing?’

‘No! I didn’t donate that,’ he said in a manner
that this was a ridiculous deduction. ‘I stole them.’

‘
Them
?’

Thom smiled and fished another from the holdall.

‘You stole blood? From where?’

‘Got them from a local church holding a drive. I gotta
say, I didn’t feel right about it, being inside a church and all, but I didn’t
have much choice in that. Thom was very specific about getting these before
they went to storage at a bank.’

‘Why?’

‘Because,’ said Thom, ‘not only would it be easier
to obtain a few bags that way, but getting these after storage might be too
late. I need the blood whole – not just parts.’

‘So, is that everything you’ll need?’

‘Yes.’ Thom nodded. ‘Tonight’s the night, I hope.’

He had by now removed three blood bags from the
holdall and placed two in the roomy pockets of his coat. He stared at the other.

‘To human veins this stuff might still be usable,
just. But to our demons it’s now a poison. It’s lived and died, no longer
attached to a heartbeat or a soul, or to a thinking mind: something able to
comprehend pain! It doesn’t just revolve around drinking blood. It is the act
of drinking the blood of the living.’

He placed that bag in his pocket too.

‘Only two more phases and our plan is complete,’
muttered Thom, distractedly.

‘Yep,’ answered Seth. ‘I just hope it goes
smoothly.’

‘Thank you, both. I know you must be exhausted
after digging that depth.’

‘Not exhausted.’ I smiled. ‘But close.’

‘No probs,’ said Seth. ‘I just hope no jerk goes
in there and falls down it.’

‘From the look of it, Seth, I’m convinced no one ever
goes in there. Had I sauntered past that place without knowing what it was,
even I would’ve had trouble detecting it as a cemetery. Only as you both turned
the soil, the faint smell of death rose up through the contaminated dirt.’

Seth looked to me. ‘He’s keeping it light, as
always.’

I laughed.

‘But hey, I’ve a question; would Johan have
changed me, made me like you, like he promised?’

‘I’m sure he would have killed you, Seth.’

I liked that Thom used past tense. His confidence
gave me some, even though I knew how possible it still was that Johan would
kill him, and me, if our plan didn’t go accordingly.

We were on Queens Boulevard heading for the Midway
Tunnel.

‘Slow your speed, Seth. There’s an accident up
ahead,’ said Thom, casually looking out the backseat window.

‘What makes you say that?’ he asked, leaning over
the steering wheel to see as far ahead as he could. A few cars travelled the
same speed. No sirens, no flashing lights or any hint of an incident. – It became
obvious.

‘He’s sensed Death,’ I stated, wondering how many
people were dead. ‘That’s sad. I hope it was quick.’

The car in front passed under a bridge, and its
paintwork shimmered with a ripple of blue light as it sped out the other side. A
roadblock was in place. I could see the impact of a collision down one side of
a car spun over the median barrier, and another sat upturned in one lane.
Police were signalling for us to stop behind the cars up ahead. A queue was
forming.

‘I need to get back to Johan’s place, while it’s
still dark,’ said Thom, leaning forward, about to kiss me.

‘Pleeeease, you guys!’ begged Seth.

I stared at Thom and couldn’t help but whisper,
‘We’ll make up for it later.’

Thom’s eyes kindled, promising that we would.

‘So what about us?’ Seth grumbled sarcastically.

‘We’re not in that kind of relationship, Seth.’
Thom smirked. ‘I’m afraid it might take some time before they start filtering
traffic through. But you’ll be safe here, at least. Text me when you get back
to the hotel.’

‘Wait!’ I cried, as he put a foot out the door. ‘You’re
definitely doing it tonight?’

‘Sooner the better. All I needed was the blood and
the grave dug, and my assistants at the ready. Don’t worry, even if I manage it
in the next hour, we won’t be moving him immediately. I wouldn’t want to risk
it too soon. I have to be sure he’s really weakened – the demon’s survival
instinct worn-out. That’s why I need to go. I’m hoping to catch him in his
apartment – privacy when doing this is essential.’

‘Just please take care.’

‘Of course!’ He winked at me and left the car
instantly. Neither Seth nor I saw in which direction he went. He completely
vanished.

Police taped off the incident up ahead and then
stood around with what looked like little to do. An ambulance had already left
the scene in a hurry. Another waited on standby, I believe, for a person to be
cut out of the wrecked car. Traffic built up behind us. I turned quickly to
look at it, and in that moment I noticed something ahead, standing next to the
upturned car. I swung my head back to give it a full viewing, but it’d gone.

‘What’s up?’ asked Seth, noticing my double-take.

‘Death!’ I said. ‘Thom once joked that if you
wanted to see the paranormal you should try not to focus – you’ll only ever see
it in the periphery. As I turned away then, I saw a skeletal figure right next
to that car.’ I pointed. ‘He wasn’t my dad, or anyone’s!’ I muttered.

‘What in God’s name are you talking about?
Your
dad
?’

I realised then that I shouldn’t have mentioned a
word of it to Seth. Although he knew how Thom fed, and that he hoped to have
his soul returned, he knew nothing more about Death. It was mine and Thom’s
secret, and no one else should ever have that knowledge – it was too powerful,
too dangerous for people to know. The shock of seeing
him
again – and
unmasked – caused me to forget.

‘Nothing,’ I said, looking to him. ‘Just a bit of
déjà vu. Thought I’d been here before and seen something up there. It was
weird.’

‘You can say that again, Alex. Don’t be telling me
there’s a skeletal figure up ahead. I’m on edge enough as it is! You realise
we’re sitting here covered in dirt, like we’ve just been digging an illegal
grave. There are two shovels in the trunk, not to mention the fact we’re
surrounded by cops.’

‘They’re a little preoccupied at the moment, Seth.
Relax.’

‘You’re so British with your “
relax
”.
You’re not even relaxed when you say it. That’s why we American’s invented the
phrase “chill out”, because you automatically chill when saying it. – Try.’

‘Chill out,’ I said, inadvertently sounding like a
cyborg.

‘Hmm. Maybe it only works with Americans.’

‘Seth, they’re opening up a lane.’ I pointed. ‘I
thought we’d be here hours. He’s signalling for people to drive through.’

‘Yeah, but look at how slow they’re going.’

‘They want to see the body,’ I muttered, seeing
some passengers pointing their cell phones at the car wreck.

Once back in Manhattan, with the hotel blocks away,
we headed north on Madison Avenue.

‘I can’t wait to wash the dirt and dust out of my
hair,’ I said, as Seth stopped at the lights. ‘I’m absolutely coated. I can
even taste it.’ I wiped my mouth and looked up, out my window.

Johan! – I saw him and froze!

Completely unexpected. He stopped at the crossing
in front of us. Instinctively I slid down in the front seat to conceal myself.
I told Seth to do the same. Seth automatically turned his head that way, but
didn’t move otherwise. He stared out the window and said nothing. It was clear
he’d been spotted. I saw the lights from here change.

I whispered, ‘Go!’

He pressed his foot down calmly. He pulled away as
if he’d just been handed his own death warrant and decided it was futile to
struggle.

‘Dammit!’ he blurted after a moment, staring in
his rearview. ‘He saw me! He really stared, then scanned the car for others,
too – for Thom, probably. Then he looked down the street and back to me.
Dammit!’

‘Definitely recognised you?’

‘Clear as day! He stood on the corner staring. I
should’ve been quicker. He didn’t see you, Alex.’

‘You’re sure?’

‘Positive. But Thom’s gonna be pissed!’

‘Did he cross the lights?’

‘Yeah. Looked like he’s headed for Central Park.’

Seth took the next right. I didn’t think it was
ours; he was just so shaken up.

I pulled out my phone.

‘What are you doing?’

‘I’m texting Thom to see where he is. He needs to
know that Johan has seen you. There goes his element of surprise! Johan’s going
to expect him now. Only an idiot wouldn’t. – Oh! I didn’t see this message from
Thom. He says he’s been back to his apartment but can’t find him.’

‘Dammit! Why’d that have to happen? Why!’

‘Do me a favour and pull over.’

‘What? No, Alex! Not a chance. Not with him
lurking about.’

‘Do it! I have a plan.’

Seth parked up.

‘I need you to call Thom right now. Tell him what
happened and where Johan is heading. Tell him I’m going in there too, to keep an
eye on him, or distract him if I have to! I’m– I’m not sure which yet.’

‘Don’t, Alex! Thom’ll kill me. Hell, Johan will
kill you!’

‘Not according to Thom. If he sees me, he may try
to lure me back to his place. Right – that’s the plan! Thom said he needs
privacy to do it. I’ll let Johan take me back, and there Thom can intercept him,
catch him off-guard.’ I reached for the door handle.

Seth grabbed my other wrist. ‘Don’t! Please!’

‘I have to. I made a pact. Seth, if anything bad happens,
it was good to know you. Tell Thom it was worth it and I love him.’

I jumped out the car and headed back in the
direction we just came. Perhaps Thom was right and I was crazy. But if
I
was Johan, I would now expect an ambush. Either I would run or I would feed hastily
to improve my chances. I couldn’t allow Thom’s chance to slip away when he was
so close to becoming human again.

Thirty-three

‘The ties that bind us to life are tougher than you
imagine, or than any one can who has not felt how roughly they may be pulled
without breaking.’

– Anne Brontё,
Agnes
Grey

The cloudy night sky
seemed to promise rain, but the forecasters were right and it remained dry. I
saw up ahead, between the streets, a section of greenery. I crossed over into
the park passing a cyclist and a couple hand-in-hand. The fine breeze brought a
faint lemony fragrance as it rustled through the branches overhead. Slipping
between the shadows cast by trees, gates and posts in the lamplight, I entered
on a pathway that circled the black water of the Park Reservoir. It was
difficult not to look at the splendid reflection of New York City on her dark
surface. Every few minutes a jogger or dog walker passed me as if it was the
middle of the day. A backdrop of constant city noise regularly broken by police
sirens echoed over the metropolis. I walked on, religiously checking my
immediate surroundings as I left the water’s edge.

I knew how unlikely it was that I’d just stumble
upon Johan, as I rifled its many winding paths and looked over its commons. But
I knew how I needed to
not
look for him. Johan would find me. It was the
only way to play this.

Having walked for around thirty minutes, passing
through close wooded areas with many forked pathways, I came to a lake, then a
large building, and eventually found myself near the Bethesda Fountain. People
hung about it, despite the cold and the hour.

I pulled up the hood of my jogging top, my eyes instinctively
scoping every person in view. From the fountain I walked beneath the Bethesda
Terrance, through its arcade. Its lights fully on and glowing overhead like
honey. At the far end I mounted a great height of steps. Public restrooms
flanked them, all locked up for the night. The stench of human urine was disgustingly
intense. My footsteps echoed through that tunnel, up and out the other side.

Relieved to have made it, I stopped at the top to
look about. My throat so dry with agitation I could barely swallow. A choice of
well-lit pathways ran in all directions ahead, each flanked with bright
Victorian-style lamps. Benches lined every green and I saw one of them occupied
by a homeless person. Presently, a vampire spoke with him. I moved slowly to
rows of seating to my left. There I sat taking out my phone with clammy hands,
trying to act natural. It was a quarter to two in the morning. The cold night
air rushed against my face, bringing with it that bleach-like smell of him, sharp
and stingy.

I glanced up to find Johan still talking to the
drifter – and I noticed here that the drifter was a woman. She was rather rough
to look at with a badly cut bruise across her nose. Thom said Johan had a
predilection for killing women, as well as preying on the poor and vulnerable.
Perhaps she was his perfect victim. My eyes naturally inspected every shaded
corner before me, hoping I’d somehow learn Thom was nearby. He should be by
now. But I hoped he wouldn’t attempt to signal that he was there. I didn’t want
him to risk alerting Johan, who hadn’t yet noticed me. No new messages came
through on my phone, so I text Thom my whereabouts just in case. He was going
to kill me, figuratively speaking. I wished I’d taken Seth’s number!

Presently the drifter sat on her bench in more
layers of clothing than an Eskimo. Johan was telling her something I couldn’t
hear. A strange turn of his angular head, as if he’d smelt something
distinctive on the air, and his dark shark-like eyes fell on me. I continued
playing with my phone, daring not to make a sudden move. But the feeling of
dread rose through my body, heating up and pulsing in my head, as like an alarm
sounding – screaming –
run
!

Naturally, I rose from the bench and headed for
the nearest exit. I couldn’t help my instincts in that moment to escape. Only,
I knew he’d seen me and would follow. I turned to look. I saw Johan heading my
way, leaving the drifter on her bench unharmed.

This was the climax. I must play along. Only an
idiot would agree to accompany that frightening man back to his place.

I walked on.

Too soon he appeared at my side, pretending to
catch me up. I kept my breathing paced.

‘Hello,’ he said in a heavy European accent with a
slight American lilt. ‘Excuse me, I’m so sorry – I thought you were someone
else.’

‘No problem.’ I continued walking. His scent now
stronger burnt in the back of my throat, like I’d swallowed peroxide.

‘You’re Australian?’ He followed.

‘British, actually.’

He narrowed his sharp eyes, as if I’d lied. Or
perhaps he didn’t like to be wrong.

‘On vacation?’

‘Yep.’

‘Lost?’

‘Na-uh.’

‘What are you doing out so late? And what’s with
all the dirt?’ He pointed to my clothing.

‘Are you the police?’

He laughed, his harsh features toughened. ‘No. I’m
just concerned. So where are you going?’

‘Nowhere in particular. I’m just waiting to hear
back from friends.’

‘Friends?’

‘You ask a lot of questions,’ I told him.

‘I apologise.’ He looked away briefly. ‘Inquisitiveness
is in my nature.’

‘Well, my friends and I were partying,’ I said
with naivety. ‘We came to the park and messed around – hence the dirt.’ I
gestured to myself. ‘We got separated and now I’m waiting to hear back from
them so we can meet up and go.’

‘Go where?’

‘To my friend’s house. That’s where I’m staying.’

‘Meantime,’ he said, ‘you’re wandering about so
late at night. I wouldn’t call those people friends, if they haven’t gotten
back to you yet.’

‘They will. They’re probably just busy drinking
and stuff.’

‘Aren’t you cold?’

‘Yeah.’ – Visibly so, I shook with both cold and
terror.

‘I suppose if I offer to let you wait at mine,
you’ll think I’m a serial killer or pervert?’

‘I might wonder.’ I smiled, rubbing my arms.

He nodded his head casually. ‘Understandable.’

‘Where is your place?’ I asked.

‘Not far. You’re more than welcome to wait there
for your friends. You’ll be quite safe. It’s a very respectable building. And
you can always message your friends the address, before you come inside.’

I feigned temptation. ‘Well, that’s really nice of
you, but…’

‘It’s your call.’ He paused. ‘So, what do you
say?’

‘I say–’ I smiled and nodded. ‘Okay. And thank
you.’

I followed him out the park, then along the
streets, during which time we exchanged fake names. I hadn’t realised how many
blocks I’d walked. We arrived at his apartment building and took the stairs.
Johan made small talk and I listened for those parts to respond to. Meanwhile,
I bent my ear to listen for Thom in pursuit of us. I knew I should hear
nothing. But the fact I heard nothing terrified me. It wasn’t like he wouldn’t
be there. I knew he would. Death though wouldn’t be.
He
wouldn’t give
Thom any warning.

When we reached the second floor, Johan stopped
and I almost carried on up the next flight. He watched me and I wondered if he
was trying to catch me out. Perhaps I carried Thom’s scent, or even Seth’s, beneath
the grime.

‘This is me,
Jane
,’ he said, taking out a
key and heading for an apartment, which – far as I knew – was not his. His
apartment was on the floor above. Unless he owned more than one! Or even this
entire building!

He grated the key in the lock.

I kept very still as he opened the door, which was
numbered 2b.

He looked round with eyes blacker and fiercer than
before, but his other features remained calm. I froze, waiting for Thom to
appear like a tempest and take him by surprise.

He didn’t.

Thom wasn’t nearby.

Something was wrong. Hadn’t Seth told him?
Couldn’t Thom find us? Impossible! But Thom would never allow me this close,
let alone inside his apartment. Now I had no escape. To run would only mean
cutting shorter my last moments with a bloodthirsty killer. I needed to prolong
this time and endeavour to send that text.

‘What’s the address here?’ I said, casually as I
could, taking out my phone.

‘Ah! So you can message your friends!’ He laughed
sharply. ‘What, these friends?’ He gestured a hand towards the darkened
apartment, intimating they were inside.

He’d captured Thom! But how? When did he have time
to get Seth?

It might be a trick. Though the fact remained,
Thom hadn’t appeared to stop him. Besides, I could not escape now.

I entered the apartment holding my breath.

‘Thom!’ I yelled. It was pitch-black and silent.

The door slammed behind me. Johan laughed like a
hyena, flicking a light switch.

‘That was easy!’ he crowed.

The walls glowed a dirty amber colour. Fire had
blackened them. I saw from here into the living room. Charred wallpaper peeled
from every corner. The air was dank and the place squalid. A tattie couch and
small table furnished it.

Thom wasn’t here, neither was Seth.

‘So this Thom is your boyfriend?’ he asked,
swiping my phone from me in a blink.

I realised then, Johan didn’t know him as Thom,
but only by his real name, the one I didn’t even know. Thomas Rues was an
identity he’d stolen in recent years.

‘He’ll send out a search party,’ I replied, ‘if I
don’t message him soon.’

Johan slowly shook his head.

My phone then rang in his hand! I could see it
said ‘Thom calling…’

My heart leapt up in my throat. If Johan answered
– if he heard Thom’s voice!

‘They’ll trace that call to this apartment!’ I
said shakily. ‘So you’d better let me answer it. I’ll say I’m somewhere else if
you promise not to hurt me!’

‘You tell your boyfriend you’re heading back to
the park,’ Johan threatened, handing it over. ‘If you don’t, you’ll never utter
another word. Understand?’

I nodded and put the phone to my ear.

‘Thom, just listen!’ I snapped, before he spoke.
‘I’m heading
to be
near that place you took me before. Meet me, but
first sum up the question of whether it’s nobler in the mind to suffer.’

I ended the call.

Johan crumpled his brow and I hoped he didn’t work
out the vague reference to Hamlet. I trusted however that Thom would. He knew
the speech by heart, so surely…

Johan narrowed his eyes. ‘Hamlet?’ he queried.

My blood ran cold.

‘What?’ I shrugged, nervously. ‘He’s gay for
Shakespeare. We always quote in riddles. – So you promise not to hurt me?’

He held out his hand for my phone.

I dropped it on the floor and stamped on it,
smashing it to pieces. I didn’t want to risk him calling Thom back, or
messaging to trick him into a snare.

‘Aren’t you a lively one!’ Johan sneered. ‘My partner
in crime is going to like you. –
Please
?’ He motioned for me to enter a
different room, as if we were old friends. ‘Do excuse the mess. I entertained
some guests recently, and one liked so much to play with her lighter. And I’m
not much of a decorator.’

He ushered me inside. It was just as burnt, and
looked like a nursery. Badly stained toys lined the edges in piles. Most were
broken and filthy. I could smell burnt plastic amidst the clinical odour of
Johan. A paint-covered rocking horse sat in one corner, a wooden chair in
another. But everywhere else were toys. The dolls all had something missing,
like an eye or an arm. Clowns with maniacal expressions, and marionettes with bloodstained
faces watched me. It was not a happy place, but the stuff of Stephen King’s
dreams.

Upon crossing the threshold, Johan spoke suddenly in
a serious and sinister tone.

‘I’ll leave you to play,’ he said, bizarrely,
‘while I fix your dinner. My associate will be arriving soon.’

I looked at him convinced he spoke under some
trance by the way he said it, as if he really believed I was a little girl. But
he sneered in such a triumphant and calculating way, I knew he was roleplaying
and letting me know it.

‘You go ahead and play with your dollies.’ He
pointed to the floor. I automatically sat on the scorched carpet as he edged
towards me.

He went across to the living room and brought his
violin case into the nursery. He sat in the chair near a sheet-covered window
and pulled out the violin. Then its bow and a long thick rope.

I stared, unsure what he was doing, or what I
should do now. Where the hell was Thom? I could only try to play this calm,
because the more anxious or pleading I grew, the sooner he couldn’t resist
killing me. But Johan was too quick at catching the look of dread in my eyes.

‘Perhaps you’d like to call for mommy?’

‘I’d prefer to call the police,’ I said, playing a
role myself. ‘But I don’t suppose that’s going to happen.’

He breezed past me to some built-in wardrobes and
slid open a door. I heard muffled high-pitched noises. A young woman, possibly
my own age, tied and gagged, sat on the floor dressed in a jogging outfit. She
looked at Johan in sheer terror and struggled under the knots. Soon her reddened
eyes pleaded with mine for help. Johan dragged her out and placed her before
me. He went to the other side of the wardrobe and opened that too. An older
woman, perhaps in her fifties, sat in the same predicament.

‘Here’s mommy for you,
Liliana
.’ He propped
her up in front of the closet, leaving them both bound. Then walking back to
the door, he closed it and locked us in with him.

‘Play nice, Liliana!’ He returned to his chair, wagging
a finger at me. ‘No untying mommy!’

He watched, and I couldn’t imagine
whom
he
said he waited for. He’d locked the door. And from what Thom had said, he
didn’t kill with others. He wouldn’t share this with anyone.