Over half of the police force was dead or missing. All four detectives were still alive, though two of them had been holed up in a bank vault overnight. They were found when the bank opened in the morning, both of them disheveled and very, very angry. Though they were vague about details, it seemed that an informant had gotten the drop on them. Sadly for him, he didn’t realize that there was proper circulation in the vault and that, in fact, being locked inside would not cause suffocation. He was arrested as he was packing his bags for an extended vacation.
Jayce Thornton was returned to her parents just before sunrise. They had actually been expecting her to spend the night with one of her friends, and were shocked to hear that she had been lost in the woods. It would be four years before she was given permission to sleep over anywhere again. It would be two years before she could go to sleep with the lights off in her bedroom.
The Silver Dollar Diner was in ruins. Something very bad occurred inside the building and the line cook was found cooking on the grill. Sally Harmon, who was a staple at the place, was never found.
Seven Halloween parties on the campuses of Winslow Harper and Sacred Dominion ended in disaster. The details remained blurry, but most everyone agreed in their descriptions of people dressed in black who came in and attacked at random and with unexpected violence. With all of the confusion, it was difficult to establish just how many people were killed. There were more people reported missing than actually murdered. It’s hard to prove murder when there is no body. Several corpses were found, but most of the students who disappeared were listed simply as missing. Detectives Boyd and Holdstedter were not amused.
II
“So we get to look like assholes, and those two get to come out of this with a better track record?” Danny was whining.
“Yeah, but on the bright side, we always look like assholes.”
“Oh, yeah. Never mind then.”
They were standing on the Cliff Walk, looking down at the waters where they crashed against the jagged rocks. They’d been there for over three hours. A good portion of that time they were supervising the divers who had to pull Kelli Entwhistle’s remains from the spot. She’d been found by a jogger early on. Her body was stuck between two rocks and her arm pointed toward Soulis’s place like an accusation.
Danny had looked down at the remains and shaken his head. “Sometimes,” he said, “I hate being right.”
He had been right, too. Most of her had been pulped into jelly by the waves. Boyd didn’t respond; he was too busy looking at the way her arm moved in the current. There was something there. He just couldn’t figure it out.
He caught it when the tide changed. The undertow was all wrong. When he thought about how the girl’s hand had moved, he looked to the spot and finally understood that there was something there, a cave or a well or something.
He and Danny spent a long time looking at it.
A big enough cave could hide a lot of bodies.
It could hide a lot of bodies that weren’t as dead as maybe they should be. It took a little work, and he had to pull some favors, but after Boyd explained it, Danny got a few things they would need.
III
Maggie got the letter from Jason Soulis in the mail the next day. It had been sent overnight express.
She opened it while Ben was sleeping and read it carefully.
It read:
It was a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I suspect you remain confused by what has happened to you, and I can most certainly understand that. Know this: You will endure.
If all goes as I have planned it, you will be reading this after I have left Black Stone Bay. I have to ask a favor of you. Please watch over my house. It is empty of all that was mine, and for the present time I have no need of it. I would consider it a kindness if you could move in and make yourself at home. You will find all of the appropriate paperwork has been filed and that you can move in at your convenience.
I will leave you with the following thoughts: First, know that there was a reason for everything I did. We may well discuss it some day. Second, keep your secret well. I have met the boy you trust and he should do well for you, but do not spread the secrets of your condition to others. Believe me, they will not understand.
May your life be less complex than it has been and may your nights and days be peaceful.
Until we meet again,
Jason Soulis
She folded the letter up and placed it back into its envelope. The thick sheaf of papers she also found inside included a lifetime lease for the property and the understanding that the structure could not be altered or sold.
Maggie and Ben moved in a few months later, after their leases at the apartment complex expired.
IV
“Hello?” The voice that answered was familiar and comforting.
“Mom?”
“Angie! Oh my God! Are you okay, honey? Your father and I have been worried sick, just sick! We kept calling, but no one answered, and when we talked to the police, they told us about poor Brian.”
“I’m okay, Mom. But I have to get away from here; there are too many memories . . .”
“Oh, honey, of course there are. You could come home if you wanted. You could stay with us.”
“Would it really be okay if I did, Mom?”
“Oh, honey, of course it would be. We haven’t seen you in almost a year.”
“I have a few things to take care of, but I can be there in a couple of days.”
“We can’t wait to see you, honey. Oh, thank God you’re all right.”
She flinched a bit. Even the mention of God seemed to cause discomfort, but she was almost certain she could endure. There were things she didn’t understand about what she had become, but she was learning.
“I love you, Mom. I can’t wait to see you again.”
“Honey, all you ever have to do is come on by. The door will always be open for you.”
“I’ll see you soon and I have a surprise for you.”
“Really? Is it a good surprise?”
“I think you’ll like it.”
They said their good-byes and Angie Freemont carefully packed her bags.
She felt a twinge and the baby kicked. He was feeling stronger too, recovering from all that had been done to the both of them. She ran her hand over her swollen belly and smiled, even as the first hunger pangs hit.
She was always hungry. How could she be anything else? She was eating for two.
V
The bodies were gathered through the course of the day. They were more than anyone wanted to consider, and a surprising number of them seemed to be at least a week old. Though it took time, eventually they were identified.
Witnesses claimed that several of the corpses gathered had been alive and well until the sun hit them. No one really believed the accounts. The bodies that had most of those claims had obviously been dead for several hours or days.
VI
Boyd smoked his cigar and watched Danny as he maneuvered the radio-controlled boat.
“Fuck’s sake, Danny! It’s a big goddamn hole in the side of a cliff! How hard can it be?”
“About as hard as it is for you to get into Whalen’s pants.”
“What? Now you’re changing your mind about me and Whalen?”
“Hardly. I think you could get in her pants if you really wanted to.”
“She’s a married woman, Danny Boy.”
“So? She wants you!”
“So maybe if she was single, okay?”
“Being a dumbass about it.”
“You go around banging married women?”
That shut him up.
“So get the fucken thing in there already!”
“Relax, Richie. The best things take time.” He couldn’t decide if Danny was talking about Whalen or the damned boat, so he kept his mouth shut.
Finally the waves pulled back in just the right way and the water from the cave’s entrance spilled out. As the next wave came in, the boat was sucked into the underwater entrance.
“The SS Kelli has breached the defenses.”
“Good.”
“You wanna do the honors, Richie?”
“Yeah, if you don’t mind.”
“Knock yourself out.”
Boyd picked up the detonator and waited for one full minute as Danny kept urging the small motor further along. He waited until they could no longer hear the whining toy engine’s noises.
“Come on, Richie. Damn, I need coffee!”
“Fuck you and your coffee. It was my idea.” He pressed the detonator and the four sticks of dynamite let out a dull thump that was hidden by the waters.
They couldn’t see much at first, but after watching for a while they saw that the undertow wasn’t doing as many weird things anymore. There wasn’t a delay or a sudden gulping of the ocean.
“Did that close it off?”
“I guess we’ll know tonight, Danny Boy.”
“Yeah. I guess we will.
“Ready to go?”
“Yeah. I’m bored, Richie.”
“Ain’t you always.”
VII
He was miles away, but he could still hear them as they screamed. How could he ever not hear them? They were his children.
Jason Soulis stared out at the waters and looked at the dull gray clouds that hid the sun away. In the distance, he could hear the crows cawing and chatting to each other. Maggie could have her human and he wished her the best.
He preferred the crows. He knew where he stood with them and never once worried about their duplicity.
He really hadn’t expected the detectives to find the caves and supposed that was his fault for not realizing just how perceptive they were.
“I’m glad I let you live.” He smiled and stretched, stifling a yawn. “I suspect you will prove interesting to have around.”
Deep beneath the house he’d left behind, the vampires were trying to find a way out of their newly sealed prison. Far too much rock had fallen to allow them to simply swim out as they had before.
He wondered if they would die a second time, starved of blood and unable to feed. Or if they would change and evolve, become something better than what they were meant to be.
A few days in the cave had made several of them stronger than they had ever been before. Most often they were too weak and stupid to live for more than a single night. But the ones he’d created in Black Stone Bay? There were at least four he knew of that had survived their first night of freedom, and they were coming along nicely.
None of them stayed in the area. They were too smart for that. If that wasn’t proof of improvement, what was?
“We shall see, my children. We shall see what you can become.”
He listened to their frustrated screams and allowed himself a small smile.
Time would tell if the second phase was successful.
And Jason Soulis had all the time in the world.
AFTERWORD
BY JAMES A. MOORE
If you’d asked me even eighteen months ago if I had any desire to write a vampire novel, the answer would have been a resounding “HELL NO!” It’s not that I have anything against vampires, per se, it’s just that damn, people, they’ve been done a few times. They’ve also been done a few times by me. My first published novel was a collaborative work-for-hire vampire novel written for White Wolf Publishing. I wrote it a long, long time ago. Long enough ago, in fact, that sometimes I forget the details. That’s probably for the best.
So, no. No desire whatsoever to pick up a pen and write about vampires. Better writers than me have already done it and been imitated a thousand times over. Bram Stoker’s
Dracula
remains a powerful piece, strong enough to almost guarantee a hundred imitators alone. Anne Rice’s writing style and more “humanized” approach to vampires hasn’t just been imitated, it’s generated a full-blown subgenre. She did to vampiric erotica what McDonald’s did to hamburgers. And I could go on for a page or two about the number of vampire detectives/vampire monster hunters out there in the literary markets.
So, again, no desire whatsoever to touch on the subject of vampires.
But then I thought about the other writers, the ones who always manage to make the subject interesting for me all over again. Brian Lumley did it with his excellent
Necroscope
series of books. Simon Clark—yes, the very one who was gracious enough to give this book a read and throw some nice words in my direction—did it with
Vampyrrhic.
Christopher Golden did it with his unique twists on the concept of vampires and where they come from in
The Shadow Saga
, and there have been others as well. Richard Matheson’s excellent
I Am Legend
, Stephen King’s timeless
’Salem’s Lot
. Dan Simmons did it, Ray Garton managed very well indeed, F. Paul Wilson has done it. Robert R. McCammon not only did it, but took it to all new extremes. Fred Saberhagen’s
The Dracula Tapes
and several sequels are all fascinating reads and well thought out. He makes changes in the legends of Dracula and he also adds depth to the villainous Count. Dick Laymon’s
The Traveling Vampire Show
was a fabulous tale with a nice twist or twelve. The same for
The Stake
; what a glorious excursion into familiar territory! Nancy Collins with her Sonja Blue novels took a few nice spins into the extreme and handled them beautifully. For every one of the books I’ve run across that seems to be nothing but a derivative, there’s a gem out there, a little nugget of a book that makes it worth the time to delve back into the vampire myths and have a little fun. Of course, all of the authors who wrote these gems have talent in spades, and I’m never quite sure if I’m up to that sort of challenge.
It didn’t take much time for my mind to start playing What If with me. Every writer knows the game. What If I DID write a vampire novel? What would I do to make it different?