Dark Corner (29 page)

"These mutts aren't going to let us get away without a
hell of a fight," David said. His hands were clammy; one of
the stones almost slipped out of his grasp. "I'm not liking
our odds too much, guys"

"If we go back inside the cave, maybe we can find another way out," Nia said.

"Unlikely," Franklin said.

A wind whisked across the forest. The dogs' ears pricked,
as though in response to a call only they could hear. The animals retreated into the woods, in the direction opposite
from where David and the others had come, heading north,
toward Jubilee.

"What was that all about?" Nia said.

"The hounds are trained to detain," a man said. He
emerged from the shadows of the trees. "They do not attack
unless commanded"

David drew in a sharp breath. This was the same guy he had seen several days ago, when he had first visited the Mason
place. Still clothed in black, he wore dark sunglasses, gloves,
and a hat. The man cut a striking figure as he entered the
clearing and stopped in front of them.

"Explain your business on this property," the man said.
"Or perhaps I will summon my friends again."

Franklin stepped forward and cleared his throat. "I'm a
history professor. These two are my students. They're taking
a graduate-level history course, and one of the lessons calls
for a field trip."

"Is that so?" the man said. He appeared to be amused. He
inclined his head toward David. "I've seen you before. What
is your name?"

David paused.

"Each of you will give me your name," the man said, "or
my hounds-"

David and the others quickly told him their names.

"David Hunter, were you doing fieldwork for your history
course when you last visited my residence?"

"Uh, you could say that," David said.

"Is that your purpose, as well, Nia James?" the man said.
"Course work?"

"Yes" Nia stood rigid.

The man laughed. It was a hearty, good-natured
sound.

David noticed that the guy's teeth were a brilliant, perfect
white.

"Indulge me, if you will," the man said. "What did you
find of historical value inside the cavern?"

Franklin flashed a glance at David and Nia, as if to signal
them to remain silent.

"We found ashes covering the floor," Franklin said. "It is
my opinion that bodies-human, perhaps had been burned
therein."

"Fascinating," the man said. "Go on"

"I found an inscription on the wall," Franklin said. "It
was written in the Malinke tongue."

"Malinke? Excellent. What did it say?"

" `I shall rise again to slay my enemies,' " Franklin said.
"It was signed by a Diallo."

"Is that so? You've taught me a lesson. I had been unable
to decipher the words on my own. Thank you for that piece
of valuable information." He smiled. " `I shall rise again to
slay my enemies.' " He spoke the words with evident delight.

"Let's cease the nonsense," Franklin said. "Who are you,
and what are you doing in this town?"

"My name is Kyle Coiraut. I came here to find my ancestor's body. He had come to an unfortunate end and had been
entombed in this godforsaken cavern for over a century and
a half. I've spent years searching for his remains. I wished to
give him a burial appropriate for a prince."

"Diallo, is he the one?" David said. "The prince from
Mali who was brought to America as a slave?"

"Yes," Kyle said. "You undoubtedly discovered his grave
inside. We recovered his body. We will be leaving soon and
will trouble your humble town no longer."

"Trouble is all our town has seen since you've arrived,"
Franklin said. He shook his head grimly. "You are giving us
some of the truth, I suspect, but you are lying to us about
your true motives."

"Touche," Kyle said. "You may in fact be a professor, but
these are not your students, and you are not here on an academic outing."

Anxiety clenched David's stomach. He put his hand on
Nia's shoulder, and tapped Franklin's arm. "Hey, we better
get going."

"Wise young man," Kyle said. "Especially as I am sensing that my dogs are in the mood for a chase"

"But " Franklin started.

"Let's go!" David said. He grabbed Franklin's arm. Nia
hooked her arm through Franklin's, and both of them literally
carried him out of the meadow. They stumbled into the forest
and broke into a run.

Running, David risked a glance behind them.

The man who called himself Kyle had vanished, as if he
had been no more than an illusion.

No ordinary man could move that quickly. Impossible.

But David stopped thinking about it. They had to get
away. He heard, distantly, the barking of the wild dogs.

"Run, run, run!" David said. He clutched Franklin's hand
in his, and Nia did the same. They could not allow Franklin
to fall behind.

Hands interlocked, their bags thudding against their bodies, they raced through the underbrush. David's breath roared
in his ears. Cold sweat poured out of him, and he worried
that he might collapse from heat exhaustion before they
made it out of the woods.

Far behind, but growing closer, David heard the snappingcrackling of weeds and bushes as the dogs charged into the
forest.

Franklin wheezed, his glasses askew on his face.

"We're almost there!" Nia shouted, her hair plastered
across her cheeks.

David's thighs burned. His lungs ached. The humid air
was like steaming stew.

They exploded out of the woods and onto the steep hillside that dropped down to the road where David had parked
the Pathfinder. The sudden dip in the land threw David off
balance. His ankle twisted viciously, he cried out in pain,
and he slammed to the ground and rolled down the bumpy
hill, the strap of his duffel bag sliding off his arm, the bag
getting snagged on a snarled root. He kept tumbling down
the hill, grass and dirt smearing his face and clouding his vision.

He finally whammed against the gravel shoulder of the
road, and the impact sent another bolt of agony through him.

Through his haze of pain, he heard the pursuing dogs
roaring.

They're gonna tear me to pieces, he thought.

But strong hands hooked under his armpits and pulled
him upright. Nia.

"I've got you, baby," she said. "Where are your keys?"

"Right pocket," he said in a thin voice.

Dragging him toward the vehicle, she dug into his
pocket, retrieved the key chain, and pressed the button to
deactivate the locks. Franklin, looking weary and disheveled, swung open the rear passenger door. They helped
David inside.

He lay across the seat cushions, but not before he saw the
dogs navigating down the hill. One of the canines plucked
his duffel bag off the ground and trotted away as if it had
found a prize bone.

"Hurry up," David said, in what he thought was a shout,
but his words only came out as a hoarse whisper.

He heard the dogs, closer. Then doors opening and slamming. The engine rumbling. Spinning tires ripping through
gravel.

"We made it!" Nia laughed deliriously.

It was the last thing David heard before he blacked out.

"We've got to get David home," Nia said. She drove, and
Franklin rode in the passenger seat. "I think he sprained
his ankle pretty badly, and he might have heat exhaustion,
too"

"All of us are fortunate that we escaped with our lives."
Franklin dried his face with a handkerchief. "Those fearsome dogs ... I do not understand how my own dog could
turn against me so. He seemed not to recognize me at all."

"I don't know," she said. "This field trip of ours just raised
more questions."

"Why was this Kyle character dressed in heavy, dark
clothing on a hot day?" Franklin said. "Virtually none of his
skin was exposed, did you notice?"

"He could be allergic to sunlight," Nia said. "Really, I
have no idea."

"The control that he exerted over the animals. It was uncanny."

She wiped perspiration from her brow, steering with her
other hand. She did not want to puzzle over the questions
that Franklin raised, but she could not help herself. They had
stumbled into something of unprecedented weirdness.

"Doubtless, Kyle and his hounds are responsible for the
young woman who was mauled last night," Franklin said. "I
would wager that he is guilty of the disappearances of the
two people as well."

"We need to call the police," Nia said.

Franklin laughed bitterly. "Nia, we have no compelling
evidence to support our theory. Although the dogs chased us,
we were trespassing on private property, remember. Frankly,
I'm not certain that Chief Jackson would be willing to listen
to me speak on any topic. He practically hung up on me this
morning. He has been behaving strangely."

"I don't know what we should do," she said. "All I want to
do right now is take care of David. He's my priority."

Franklin peered in the rear seat, shook his head sadly.
"Very well, you attend to David. We need him to be healthy
for what we have ahead of us. In the meantime, I'm going to
visit the young lady in the hospital. I want to know what she
saw last night."

The dogs returned to where Kyle waited on the veranda
of Jubilee.

Sitting in a cane rocking chair, he smiled. He had not ex pected the animals to capture the humans; he only wanted to
frighten them to keep them away. They were meddlers, and
too clever for their own good.

The laborers Mamu had employed must have informed
others about the cave. It was only a matter of time before word
reached humans who possessed expert knowledge, such as
the professor.

Destroying the three humans would have raised a dangerous alarm in the town. He could not handle them in the manner that he had manipulated the police chief, either; he was
talented, but unable to hypnotize more than one individual at
a time. Allowing them to escape was the only safe course of
action.

However, he would have to remain vigilant against the
encroaching humans. He wished he and his father could
leave this place, but he had to await Diallo's recovery.

As he thought of his father, his father's vow reverberated
in his thoughts.

I shall rise again to slay my enemies.

He was grateful that the professor had translated the cave
inscription. He knew the translation was correct. The hunger
for vengeance burned in his father's heart.

The dogs flocked around Kyle. One of them carried a duffel bag between its teeth. The dog dropped the parcel at
Kyle's feet.

Kyle remembered that David Hunter had been carrying
this bag.

"Good work," he said to the hound.

Inside the bag, he found a flashlight, a bottle of water, a
notebook with empty pages, pens, and a large, thick book
with a worn cover. A Bible? Why would the man have
brought this with him?

He placed the text on his lap. He slid his fingers across
the front cover, which was emblazoned with a faded gold
cross.

Contrary to myth, vampires did not fear the cross, or any religious symbols whatsoever. He had entered churches and
temples on many occasions, seeking sanctuary and enlightenment. Being an immortal in an imperfect world could be a
wrenching burden, and Mother could not answer every question to his satisfaction. He often sought Divine guidance.

Kyle had read the entire Bible several times. He longed to
discover a reference to a vampire, but he had found nothing.
The reason, according to Mother, was that vampires were
predatory beasts, akin to lions and bears. Clearly, not all
such animals were catalogued in the Bible.

It is our fate, our joy and our burden, to feed on mankind,
Mother taught. Heaven, salvation, nirvana-these things are
for man, not for us. Our souls are the souls of predators. Would
you expect a wolf to be granted eternal life in the house of God?

When Kyle challenged Mother by asking her what became of the souls of humans who metamorphosed into vampires, Mother could not answer him. She was frustratingly
ambiguous on matters of spirituality, and when she grew
tired of his questioning, she advised him to put the troublesome thoughts out of mind. He would only aggravate himself, she said.

Although Mother was satisfied to avoid seeking answers
to difficult questions, Kyle questioned the point of a cold,
soulless existence. He yearned for more.

Maybe Mother was right about him. Maybe he was too
human.

He opened the Bible, but it was only the same series of
familiar books. Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers ...

He stopped, flipped back a page.

An expertly rendered black-and-white drawing filled the
paper: a battle between a group of men, and a mob of manlike creatures that bore a resemblance to vampires. One of
the creatures towered above all.

He searched for more illustrations. He found others, randomly placed.

"Impossible," he whispered.

These were drawings of the climactic battle between men
and the legion of vampires led by Diallo.

Even his father's entrapment in the cave was illustrated.

When Mother finally confessed that his father was not
dead, but was Asleep, she had told him the story of how his
father had come to be imprisoned. Her tale was brought to
vivid life in the pictures, with such accuracy that her words
might have personally guided the artist.

The artist, indicated by the corner inscription, was James
Hunter.

The name meant nothing to Kyle. The identities of the
humans in the pictures were mysteries, too.

One man, in particular, appeared in nearly all of the drawings. He was depicted as a leader, a hero. The man who had
entombed his father.

The man who had taken his father away from him for one
hundred sixty-eight years ...

He clenched his hands into fists.

The dogs, sensing his change in mood, leapt off the veranda and fled across the yard.

It was irrelevant that the man responsible for imprisoning
his father in the cave would certainly be dead. The man
would have ancestors, and by virtue of their lineage, they
bore responsibility for what he had done.