Vampire Dreams (Bloodscreams #1) (20 page)

“Torture ... for the sake of good ... sounds ... sounds...”

“Fanatical? Mad?”

“Yes, damn it, like the goddamned Inquisition!”

“Exactly!” Magaffey countered. “Exactly what I said at the time. And here was Ananias himself in dire distress, himself attacked, losing blood by the second, and what do you suppose he was doing? No answer, huh?” Magaffey paused for effect. “He was seeing to Lonnie Wilson's infection. He strapped Wilson down in that chamber and ministered to his needs in the only way he knew to combat the infection.”

“You saw this?”

“No, I did not. I saw very little until it was all over, until I saw your grandfather dead. Ashyer here told me no sedatives, and so did your grandfather, but I'm a medical man! What choice did I have, seeing him in the state he was in. I was certain he was on the verge of a heart attack. So, I gave him a sedative ... quite a strong one ... and ... and he died that same night.”

“It was the worst thing you could have given him,” said Ashyer with a decided edge to his voice.

“Under normal circumstances--” replied Magaffey who was cut off by Mrs. Ashyer.

“There was nothing normal about that night! He needed to feel his pain, to feel the anguish and to be disgusted by his wounds and the things crawling on him.”

Magaffey dropped into a sofa chair, his head down, saying dejectedly, “I put him to rest ... with a single injection.”

Abe felt the older man's anguish deeply. “How long've you been carrying that around?”

“Since the night of his death.”

“Why are all of you telling me all this now? Why did you wait? You might have at least warned me somehow, about the chamber, instead of letting me stumble on it and begin to think the worst.”

“You would have thought us all mad, Abe,” said Magaffey.

“Explain to you why your grandfather kept a torture chamber in his house?” said Mrs. Ashyer. “Just how?”

“Explain it to me again.”

Magaffey said, “Some people your grandfather did not get to early enough. They were listed as disappearances and he was left with their remains. He might well have been arrested for what went on in Stroud Manse. To this day, some of the locals believe that somehow Stroud Manse is closely connected to the various disappearances--and so it is. But I tell you, the Ashyers are living proof that, if located early on, victims of this cave-dwelling Andover Devil can be saved. The torture chamber was not created for torture, but revival. He took people in Timmy Meyers's condition, and he literally shocked their minds into resuscitation.”

“Then why didn't you bring the Meyers boy here for this unorthodox treatment?”

“The parents thought I was quite mad when I suggested it. They also thought you were somehow behind the entire incident.”

“Some of the victims welcomed death to the half-life the creature's venom had placed them in,” said Mrs. Ashyer. “I know that I did.”

Ashyer took up the story. “That night he and Lonnie raced from the caves, having been surprised by the vampire creature. The thing gave chase and crashed through the bubble of the helicopter, attacking each of them even as your grandfather beat the thing with a huge iron cross. Both men were scarred and bitten by the time they got down. The helicopter itself still bears the marks, sir.”

Stroud tried to take it all in. He asked Magaffey to tell him once more about Cooper's visit. Magaffey did so, but this time he pulled a manilla folder from his black bag. “My findings on Cooper's serum, or whatever the hell it is. Look it over for yourself.”

Magaffey allowed Stroud time to take it all in before continuing. “It has no properties useful to humankind so far as I can determine. It prevents no illness, cures no ills; it is merely a blood substitute similar to plasma but without plasmalike qualities--much more like animal blood than man's.”

“What sort of animal blood?”

Magaffey swallowed. “Rodentlike, batlike, except there's something more. It's ... quite volatile. It is not red on contact with oxygen, but a dark syrupy color which begins to burn--much like your worm friend a while ago--on contact with God's air. Texture is thicker than blood.”

“Now we have a motive for Banaker's involvement in grave robbing,” said Stroud as he took in the fact that the elixir Cooper had given over to Magaffey was in part bone marrow.

“Earlier, using the bones taken from the site, I determined that the bones were from the young, the old, the in-between. Some had spent sixty years under the earth ... others a fraction of that time,” said Magaffey. “These were the findings stolen from my office, but as you see, I had retained a copy in the event something should occur.”

“What exactly does this bone marrow liquid do for Banaker?”

“I don't pretend to understand it completely but ... but, I have reason to suspect that Banaker and the Andover Devil are one and the same! That Banaker is your grandfather's enemy, your grandfather's vampire!”

“Do you really believe that?”

“Whether I think so or not, does not matter. But Christ, son, Banaker thinks he can feed his blood craving with some sort of bone marrow cocktail he's cooked up in his lab, and that's close enough to vampire behavior for me!”

Stroud thought of the series of coincidences that resulted in no findings on the bones unearthed, and now this. He thought of the Meyers boy and the ones before him. He thought of Pamela Carr and their first encounter, her mesmerizing allure for him, her porcelain skin, and how oddly cold her touch had been. Had she just happened across his path or was she sent to seduce him into death? His hand went instinctively to the mark she'd left on him.

“So, Doctor Magaffey, what is it you want of me?”

“Your help.”

“How?”

“I want to kidnap a body.”

“What?”

“Bradley's body ... take it out of Banaker's control. Get it to Springfield, maybe ... have the forensics lab there check it out.”

“But you said it was already prepped for a funeral. An autopsy would show nothing.”

“We don't know that.”

“But it's most likely, at this point.”

“He has marks on his throat like those on yours, and he has the long terrible gashes to the shoulders. It can be shown that no automobile accident could cause such marks.”

“Then 
what
? What will you have?”

“Then come to the caves with me, if you don't believe me!”

“The caves? You know where these caves are?”

“I believe so, yes. Your grandfather was very specific about them.”

Stroud thought of the missing Mrs. Bradley, Cooper's boy, the dog...

“How far are these damned caves?”

“Hour and a half by car.”

“Ashyer?” said Stroud.

“Yes, sir?”

“Is this chopper you mentioned, is it operational?”

“I believe so, sir, yes.”

“Is there fuel?”

“An ample supply, sir.”

“Break it out. I flew for a time. I'll pilot us there, Doctor Magaffey. We'll get there in a quarter of the time.”

“I suggest we arm ourselves, Stroud.”

“With what do you suggest we arm ourselves, Doctor Magaffey?”

“We can start with some of those iron stakes that your grandfather had made when he put the wrought-iron gates and window coverings around the manse.”

“You know a lot about this place, don't you?”

“We have to trust each other now, son.”

Stroud thought a moment, nodded and said, “You're certain now that you know the location?”

“We can be there in fifteen minutes if you can get that old bird off the pad.”

“Don't worry about that. Just show me your proof, Doctor Magaffey.”

“Knowledge is a curse, Stroud ... you'll find that out soon enough.”

-15-

The other side of the stables the helicopter sat on the pad below a huge tarp. It had a sad appearance there, like an old '48 Chevy gone out of use. When Stroud pulled back the tarp he saw the reason why. Two to seventy reasons why, actually. It was an old machine for one, the type of army issue used in Korea. It was ugly in its crude green metallic fashion. Furthermore, it had seen combat and had endured metal fatigue to its superstructure, and the windshield was sporting a larger than fist-size hole on the passenger side.

While it was a two-seater, it had cargo space behind. As Stroud worked the tarp up and over with what little assistance Magaffey could lend, peeling a zipper down the side to round the shaft of the rotor, he saw into the cargo bay. The sight stunned him, and at first he thought the boxes were of the type that carried munitions. This was before he realized they were coffins.

“Christ, what's this?”

Magaffey simply said, “They're empty. Your grandfather used them for transporting ... ahhhhh ... incidentals.”

“Incidentals?”

“Just think of them as pine boxes, Stroud.”

“What sort of incidentals?”

The slow-witted, huge stable hand suddenly appeared at the other side of the cargo bay hatch, his eyes wide and his entire weight quivering at the sight. “No ... no ... no!” he stuttered and waved his hands. “Don't do-do-do-dis! No, Doc-tor Strow! No!”

The big man was terrified, looking over his shoulder, fear showing in his eyes, eyes that darted around at every tree, every bush, every rock. He then tore off for his small stable boy's house like a frightened child.

Stroud chased after him but Magaffey shouted, “Never mind him, now! We haven't time for Lonnie Wilson.”

Stroud still found it impossible to believe that Lonnie had ever piloted this machine. Stroud said, “I'm not even sure we can get this thing airborne. Look at it.” He wiped away the mass of spider web that had attached itself to his palm moments before Lonnie had appeared.

“What do you propose, Stroud? We wait for Sporty's Pilot Shop bulletin to show up in the mail and then we order a new one? Christ, son, we don't have time, not if we're going to hijack Bradley's body. It's at the funeral home now being prepped by Carl Hoff's people. Banaker released it to Hoff--”

“I'm not so sure I want to be a part of your plans of body snatching, Doctor.”

“You will, Stroud! You will when you see the evidence in the caves.”

Stroud stared at him for a long moment, still wavering between belief and disbelief. “You really believe that we'll find something in these caves of yours?”

“You'll see, son ... just wait.”

“What do you hope to find there?”

“Remnants ... remains...”

“Remains as in people remains?”

“People, missing women, children.”

Circumstances seemed to be plying Stroud's mind with nonstop horror that was stacking like reams of paper images in his mind, threatening an overload. “I'll reserve my judgment,” he said, knowing it sounded pedestrian.

“I'm sure. You have much to sift through, put in order,” said Magaffey kindly. “But there's no time to lose.”

“Be that as it may, Doctor, I'm not budging until you explain these damned coffins! You knew damned well they were back here--knew it all along! Didn't you?”

“Son, Carl Hoff is one of Banaker's stooges; the funeral parlor is secretly Banaker's! I'm certain of it now.”

“Is that supposed to shock me?”

“I hope so.”

“Old man, coffins in the back of a chopper are a vet's nightmare. You might've warned me!”

Magaffey shook his head and raised his shoulders simultaneously. “The coffins are empty, Abe.”

“And as for Banaker,” Stroud continued, “how he chooses to invest his cash is his affair.”

“But it's not just the funeral home, son.”

“What're you saying now, Doctor Magaffey?”

Magaffey's hands went into the air. “Hell, Stroud, he's placed people--”

“Placed people? In jobs, you mean?”

“Jobs in key places.”

“Key jobs in key places?”

“Staffed hospital emergency rooms with his people.”

“That's not unusual for--”

“Paramedics, blood-drive vans! Gives new meaning to the word blood drive! And ... and cemetery workers, and funeral homes, morgue attendants! To be close to the supply!”

Stroud believed Magaffey was sounding once again like a paranoid madman. “Look, let's take it one step at a time, Doc. Frankly, I don't even know if we can get this thing off the ground.”

“But you haven't tried.”

Stroud's fist came down hard against the hull of the helicopter, causing something inside to fall with a metallic thud--a crowbar. The noise clamored and reverberated between the two men.

“I'm sorry, Stroud,” said Magaffey. “About the coffins ... I'd forgotten.”

“One step at a time.”

“Can you get it in the air, Doctor Stroud?”

“I have to do some checking up front.

With this Stroud left Magaffey alone to stare at the three coffins in the cargo bay.

Ashyer had brought the needed fuel and Stroud had found a toolbox in the rear where his eyes once more took in the gruesome sight of the pine boxes. Hanging from one metal rack in the rear there was also a shoulder bag filled with the metal stakes fashioned by his grandfather. It was dark, and the work by flashlight hampered them all, but soon Stroud revved up the motor. The machine died at once. The second attempt caused a quaking, shuddering throughout the structure. Stroud had never heard such a rattle before. The third attempt brought on the rotor overhead with chugging, coughing and sputtering, but suddenly it kicked in.

Ashyer got clear of the machine. He stood biting his upper lip and, beyond him, almost hidden from sight, Lonnie Wilson also saw them off. Neither man wanted anything to do with Magaffey's scavenger hunt through the caves. Stroud could not blame either man, and he still wondered if he weren't being led around by a madman and his accomplices.

Still, the bird rose smoothly and leveled out, sending trees to bend in its wake as it soared past, and the exhilaration of flight brought an excitement to Stroud and a feeling of doing and action which he had longed for this night which, so far, had been filled with frustration. He didn't speak to Magaffey who was strapped in the seat beside him. He concentrated on the controls.

Magaffey, too, fell into silence as Stroud did another visual check of the fuel gauge, horizontal, and tachometer. He wasn't about to veer far from the pad until he was certain the craft was safe.