Even though his position was uncomfortable Ben knelt there; he found it difficult to take his eyes off her. Her face was relaxed, the eyelids lightly shut. Although she breathed there was an aura of death around her. Her stillness tormented his imagination. What if she never woke up? Then again, Elmo Kigoma had warned that they would be in danger if she did. Ben longed to touch her face, only he couldn't bring himself to make physical contact with that skin.
Will it be corpse-like to the touch? Will the flesh be soft, or possess the hardness of rigor-mortis?
To expel the unpleasant thoughts he paced the apartment. Trajan still slept. The stranger in the cloakroom hadn't stirred. Ben made toast and forced himself to eat a few slices. Hunger was the last thing on his mind but his body still needed fuel. After that, he made himself a coffee then returned to the bedroom where he sat on a chair by the bed. Was he guarding April? Or was it a vigil? He didn't know. There was simply an instinct to be close to her. Outside vehicles rumbled along the street. Inside, there was silence. His thoughts were slippery now. He recalled images from last night when the men were slaughtered by the creatures. Almost instantly, the scene of bloodletting would be replaced by a yearning to crouch beside April and run his fingers through her hair.
He straightened in the chair. 'Whatever you do,' he murmured, 'don't go to sleep. Stay awake.' By now, it was noon. Outside the sun shone. London went about its usual daily business. Just a short stroll away, Oxford Street would be swarming with shoppers. Cafes would be starting to bustle. After thirty hours without closing his eyes sleep had become an unstoppable force. As he dozed he dreamt he followed April along a city road. She was healthy and beautiful and irrepressibly 'normal' again. In the dream he hurried after her.
He nearly caught up with her when she turned a corner. Although he only lost sight of her for a split-second by the time he'd rounded the corner she was a hundred yards away. He caught up with her again, almost to the point of being able to put his hand on her shoulder, but then there was another of those corners of the damned. A second later she was a hundred yards away, so he had to play catch-up all over again. Next time I'm close I'll call her name. She'll stop when she knows I'm here, he thought. But she was never so close again. The faster he moved the further she receded into the distance, until she was forever rounding the next corner the moment he caught sight of her.
When Ben opened his eyes a dark figure loomed over him. From the shadows above him the face appeared as an oval shadow set with two brilliant eyes. Its mouth opened. Gold glinted. Ben remembered the stranger in the cloakroom with the weirdly drawn back lips and gold-tipped teeth. The man stared at the wall above Ben's head as if he saw something that mesmerized him, then the eyes swept down to meet Ben's. They pulsed with an uncanny glow. Archaic phrases like 'witch fire' and 'ghost lights' spat into his brain as he tensed, ready to protect himself from attack.
Yet the figure stood there as if it was a staff of wood driven into the floor. The creature's jaw dropped open as it drew in a deep lungful of air. 'We can't exist like this. Take us back to the island. I can protect her there.'
Ben stood up. 'Protect who?'
'Her… April Connor.'
'Who does she need protecting from?'
'Herself.' The figure drooped as its strength expired. 'The island is our only hope.'
'What happened to you?'
The man either couldn't or wouldn't answer. His eyes drifted back to stare at the wall.
Ben kept his distance but he pressed on with the questions. 'What's your name?' No reply. 'What have you done to April?'
'I didn't hurt her. I saved her. Our only chance is to go back to the island.'
'What island?'
'In the Thames. Downriver.' He gulped as if speaking hurt. 'Toward the estuary. A little island…' His speech became dreamy. 'There's a magic there. We could stop the worst… we were controlling it.'
'Give me the name of the island.' Again no reply. 'Can you tell me what happened to you?'
The man took a step backwards; his eyes were closing. The body was a husk that lacked even the strength to remain on its feet. As soon as he reached the wall he slowly crumpled as his knees bent. Moments later, he sat with his back to the wall with his head sagging forward until the chin rested on his chest. Ben crouched beside the man, ready to check for a pulse. Only there was an unnerving quality to the skin that persuaded him not to touch it. The dilemma of whether to check for life-signs or not was put on hold the moment he heard the knock on the door. As he moved from the bedroom to the hallway a wall clock revealed he'd slept over four hours. When he pulled open the door the daylight nearly blinded him. For a second all he could see was a silhouette, then he recognized the figure standing there.
'Thank God you've come.'
'That remains to be seen.' Elmo Kigoma stepped inside. 'Because what you do next will be so unpleasant you'll wish to God that I hadn't come at all.'
TWENTY-FIVE
'Thank God you've come.' Trajan spoke the words even as he was waking up on the couch. The rest had recharged his vitality because he added sharply, 'Why didn't you come when I telephoned earlier?'
Elmo Kigoma entered the lounge with an air of quiet dignity. 'Ben Ashton also thanked God for my appearance, but whether you'll still be thanking God in the next few minutes is another matter. Also the ritual I conducted took, by necessity, several hours. You've both slept?'
'Some.' Ben raised the blind to admit the afternoon light.
'Good, because you'll have a long night ahead of you.'
Trajan was on his feet. 'Have you seen April?'
'Ben showed her to me. The stranger, too.'
'What's happened to them?'
'They've been taken.'
'Taken?' Ben shook his head.
'Taken,' Elmo repeated. 'I was born in a village in the Congo where the fields ended the jungle began. Edshu would take people into the jungle for a while. When they came back it would always be at night, and they'd be stricken by a hysterical hunger for human blood.'
'They'd become vampires?'
'Vampire is a term used by your culture, but, broadly, that is what they are.' Elmo gazed out of the window. 'London has a population of millions. This isn't only a feeding ground for Edshu's vampires, it's a breeding ground. Those they kill are also taken away to a secret, hidden place, where the transformation has time to occur.'
'When you were asleep, Trajan, the stranger became conscious. He talked about an island in the river. He wanted to take April back there.'
'Over my dead body,' Trajan said with feeling.
Elmo shook his head. 'You might have to think the unthinkable, gentlemen.'
Trajan paced the room. 'But you're telling us that April has become a vampire?'
'For want of a better term,' Elmo said. 'Vampire is apt. They feed on blood. They shun the daylight.'
Ben frowned. 'And you're saying this trickster god, Edshu, has transformed people in order to attack the living?'
'Edshu is more sophisticated than that. His desire is for mischief. He doesn't want to destroy human beings, no, he'd rather human beings destroy one another. So in my country he would trick tribes into waging war on one another. Edshu could breathe on this city and turn it to dust and its population with it, but that isn't Edshu's way. He would rather plant in your mind the compulsion to destroy the city.'
'Then he's equal to the devil, this Edshu. He despises humanity.'
'Wrong again. The creator gods gave Edshu the task of testing human beings. If they're strong enough to survive the ordeals he inflicts then the gods will continue to protect humanity against the destruction of the species.' Elmo gave a grim smile. 'After all, what god would continue to prop up a failing species? Better to wipe them out and start again from scratch.'
Ben saw Trajan's troubled expression. 'Is Trajan's doubt one of Edshu's weapons, too?'
'Absolutely. For Edshu fear or pride or cowardice or recklessness can be a weapon that he turns against you.' His gaze appeared to casually brush against Ben. 'Jealousy, too. Jealousy is one of the most powerfully destructive emotions.'
Trajan hadn't noticed who that final comment was intended for but Ben felt its sting.
Had his emotions been that transparent to the hermit?
'Imagine,' Elmo continued. 'If you go into battle with your brother at your side in the full knowledge that your brother will inherit your father's wealth. How hard would you fight to save your brother's life?'
Ben felt a stir of unease that Elmo might ask him there and then to reveal his secret feelings for April so he quickly asked, 'You've completed the ritual?'
'Yes.'
'Did it work?'
'Who knows? Only time will tell.' Elmo regarded the pair of them as they watched him with a desperate trust on their faces. 'My ritual doesn't involve the examination of chicken entrails to foretell the future. I didn't sacrifice goats. I invoke a far greater power. The power of visualization, or if you prefer, imagination. Today I lay on my bed and I imagined a scenario. I pictured my ancestors around a campfire with the gods of my village. There, my father, grandfather and all my uncles argued with the gods to persuade them to undo what Edshu has done because it's unnecessary. I pictured my grandfather, who was a huge lion of a man with copper bands around his neck and a spear that was as tall as a tree, who once drove away demons by tearing a thunderbolt from heaven and hurling it into their faces. I lay on my bed and I pictured my grandfather saying to the gods: "These people in the city are good. They work hard to build lives and protect their families. Life itself is a test for them; they don't need Edshu's mischief. So do away with these vampires. Banish them, send them away, turn them to dust, make them shadows that vanish before the sun." For hour after hour I imagined my ancestors debating with the gods. I pictured them explaining why Edshu should be sent on away, that his test of humanity is not required here.'
'But you can imagine anything you want,' Trajan protested. 'In my mind I can picture April growing wings and flying over the city. You can manipulate those images inside your head to do whatever you want.'
Elmo smiled. 'If you are honest with yourself does that really happen? You might picture the woman flying on golden wings but before you can stop yourself don't you imagine her shedding those wings and falling? Or even flying away into the arms of another man?'
Ben said, 'Okay, but did this scenario you imagined end with the gods agreeing to put an end to Edshu's tricks?'
Elmo spoke carefully. 'At the close of the debate that I visualized in my mind it seemed to me that the gods reacted favorably to my ancestors' argument, and yet…' He paused. 'And yet they observed there would be an obstruction to what we desire.'
'An obstruction?'
'A man-made obstruction,' Elmo replied. 'My feeling is that the gods wish to send Edshu on his way, and to rid the city of these vampires. Only there is a human that prevents it.'
'This visualization, as you call it, you're confident it can bring results?' Ben asked.
Elmo smacked his hand against his forehead. 'I'm at fault for not expressing my beliefs clearly enough. I'm to blame that you doubt me. Now… sometimes a person will come to me with a problem that dogs their life. What advice can I give them when the answer is inside of them all along? So I suggest that when they retire at night they lie there and imagine they are able to converse with one of their ancestors. Perhaps a grandmother who died twenty years ago. Lie there, I tell my patient; relax, breathe slowly, then picture you are speaking with your dead ancestor. Explain your problem to them. Politely ask how it might be solved. Then allow your imagination to visualize their reply.' He walked to the door. 'Alas, we don't have time for that technique. We must resort to one that is more immediate. You'll need your courage for this, gentlemen. Quickly! Come with me.'
Elmo Kigoma led them into the bedroom. There, the stranger with gold-tipped teeth sat unconscious with his back to the wall. April still slumbered under the bed.
Elmo spoke. 'There are only a few hours of daylight left. We must act quickly.'
'What exactly?' Trajan was troubled.
'It won't be pleasant,' said the man. 'But to have even the smallest chance of saving these people you must put aside feelings of disgust.'
'We're not going to harm April?'
'She'll know nothing but you must undertake the ritual.' Elmo crouched down to regard the woman. 'I'm going to put April on the bed. As I move her don't touch me, and don't touch her. Then you must do exactly as I say.'
Ben's stomach gave a queasy roll. 'Do you need more light?'
'No, the gloom is perfect.'
Trajan's doubt manifested itself again. 'Is this really necessary?'
'Yes. Trust me.'
'I have a friend who's a doctor. He could-'
'Trajan. My beliefs and rituals are perplexing.' Elmo reached under the bed, took hold of April's arms and drew her out to the centre of the bedroom floor. 'All religions are full of perplexing self-contradictions. To many the Bible is a book of peace, yet in the Book of Exodus Jehovah gives this command: "Put every man his sword by his side, and go in and out from gate to gate throughout the camp, and slay every man his brother and every man his companion, and every man his neighbor." '
With hardly any exertion the old African lifted the unconscious woman on to the bed. As he arranged her limbs, as if to lie in state, he spoke in that gentle, sing-song voice: 'In my faith we expect our gods to test us… often they test us to destruction. To the gods everything in creation is beautiful and right, even death… it's only human beings who judge whether events, objects and people are good or bad.' The man positioned April so she lay flat on her back in the centre of the mattress with her legs straight and her arms by her side.