Stoker's Manuscript (35 page)

I saw her. And she looked intact.

She had a long thin face sunken to show her bone structure, with her jaw open and two canine teeth prominently displayed. Every feature was long, bony, and pointed. It was hard to tell in the lantern light, but she looked as ashen as one could be and still be described as having human-looking skin. Her straight black hair fell to her sides and extended all the way to her feet. Her eyes appeared to be closed and sunken. I moved the lantern closer to her body and noticed her long spindly fingers, the joints bulging and nails at least a foot long. She wore a wedding ring on her ring finger.

Something else glinted at her breast. Two things, in fact, extending from the sides of the tomb to her narrow chest. When I cast the light more directly, I saw two sword blades on the inside of the tomb sticking straight into her upper torso, one from each side, lancing her chest through and through.

“. . . and with argint swords dipped in their blood . . .”

Of course,
I thought. Her captors drove the swords into both sides of her chest, pointed at her heart. She could not move in any direction without them piercing her heart. She was still undead, suspended . . . and not at peace.

When I moved the lantern again, one eyelid was partially open. I recoiled in terror and heaved myself back against the side of the hole.

“We gotta close this!” I said.

“Batista!”
the Gypsy shouted.
The handkerchief.

I had almost forgotten why we opened it. I grabbed a cotton handkerchief from my shirt, reached it into the tomb, and rubbed it on her hands. Then, as shakily as I’ve ever done anything, I forced myself to ever so gingerly remove her wedding ring. I feared she would grab me, but the woman never moved. Before withdrawing, I reached up to her face, emboldened, and wiped it with the handkerchief, from the top of one cheek, down along her neck. I folded the cloth, wrapped it in wax paper with the ring, and wrapped that in a leather swatch. Then I banded it with a string of garlic.

We eased the lid back down by releasing the car jacks and climbed out. I was shocked to see it was already approaching midnight. The Gypsy walked his boys home, and I cleaned up and prepared to walk to Dreptu.

Sonia was silent until it was time for me to leave. I could see by her eyes that she had given up many tears.

“Te iubesc,”
she said.
I love you.

I nodded and turned to walk into the woods when I saw Luc on the path, waiting for me.

“You will need an escort,” he said. “Give me the package.” When I hesitated, he snatched it out of my hand. “Let’s go.”

We walked into the woods at a hurried pace. The temperature had dropped during the previous hours, and a steady wind beat the tops of the trees. By the time the full moon stepped above the Carpathians, several clouds threatened the clear night.
Another mistake,
I thought as we walked deeper toward Dreptu into the surround sound of wolves waiting for their meal. Thousands of birds lifted from branches in the trees as I passed, followed by hordes of bats, all headed toward the monastery. Luc remained silent, and I followed suit.

We came upon the bus parked at its stopping point and called inside, just in case someone had managed escape. When I turned around there were four Regulats staring at me, their lips quivering in anticipation. By their complexions and movements I could tell they had not yet eaten that evening.

One of them spoke: “You are not invited to this one.”

Luc responded, “I am taking him to the Master.”

“You presume to tell—”

“He found something,” Luc interrupted. “It cannot wait.”

The Regulat’s expression changed from shock at Luc’s impudence to a wary eagerness. His nose twitched as he tested the air. “Give it to me.”

“I don’t believe you can touch it,” he said, showing the small package wrapped in garlic.

The Regulats parted, but spat upon me as I passed. Across the open space and into the woods we met another pair of Regulats, who also questioned our intentions. They, too, looked unfed. One of them shoved me to the ground as I passed and promised to be my disposer. Luc passed unmolested, though all peered at the object he carried, trying to get a glimpse or whiff of what the package might contain. Once at the front door, we were again questioned and led through to the courtyard. The party was already fully engaged, music blaring out of the tower, and walking down the steps to the lower level I saw a woman get tossed out the window to the spike pit below. Only at the last second did a scream escape her mouth before her body split on a stake. Several others had met gruesome ends before her: At least a half dozen impaled bodies hung limply, some of them still twitching or moving their jaws.

A crowd of Regulats jumped from their tables when we approached and stood in blockade formation before Dalca. Several hissed and grumbled; the others, who remained silent, looked to have been fed. From my vantage point I saw the balcony doors open and a man walk off the edge with a blindfold over his eyes. He did not have a chance to scream as he dropped headfirst onto a spiked pole.

“I have come to see the Master,” Luc said.

From behind the crowd Dalca’s voice boomed: “Let the humans approach.”

A couple was tossed out the window and landed together on a spike. A splatter of something hit my hair.

Dalca leaned forward on his throne and pointed at Luc’s hands. “What have you brought that you deem worthy of interrupting this gathering?”

I was close enough to the spike pit to see the victims’ faces. One of the men’s legs was twitching as if still alive, and his head bobbed. Blood leaked from his mouth.

Luc slipped subtly behind me, grabbed my jacket at the shoulder, and roughly pushed me ahead of him as a jailer might.

Dalca leaned forward on his throne. “Speak!”

Another person came flying down and landed with a splat.

“I caught him raiding a tomb,” said Luc, “and found him with this.” He held up the leather wrap.

“You dare to offer me
usturoi
?”
Garlic.

Luc unwound the garlic string from the leather and handed the parcel forward.

I answered, “It is what I promised.”

With a motion of his hand, Dalca halted the celebration entirely. I looked up and saw a figure on the balcony with his hands together, praying. It looked like Father Andrew, with Regulats on either side of him.

“Master, I beg of you a favor,” I said as he unwrapped the leather from around the cloth. “Please.”

He looked at me with one raised eyebrow. “What? You are in no position to bargain, human.”

I pointed up at Andrew. “Please release the priest.”

Dalca waved me off dismissively, returning his attention to the package, unfolding it once, then again until finding the ring. His eyes glowed crimson as his body froze. Then his head moved quickly as he scanned the ring from all sides.

His voice sounded low and thick: “Tell me where this grave is.”

I said,
“Miroase.” Smell.
I motioned for him to smell the cloth.

Dalca sniffed first, then his eyes glowed again as he brought the cloth to his mouth and took in a long deep breath over his teeth. He let out a growl so loud and distinct, the wolves went silent and the birds scattered. The Regulats moved away from him.

In less than a second he was in my face, lifting me off the ground with one hand.

“Where is she?” he cried.

I shook with fear. “Will you release the priest?” I barely got it out.

“Yes. Where is she?”

Luc answered, “I’ll take you there.”

He shook me, and I thought my neck would break.

“Where?”

“Under the church foundation.”

He released his grip and eyed me with mistrust.

“The priest?” I asked.

Dalca looked up, pointed toward the balcony, and said, “Release him.”

With that the Regulats grabbed Father Andrew by the shoulders and tossed him. I heard him scream all the way down. He landed on two spikes right in front of me; one stuck a leg and the other passed through his neck. I swallowed hard, realizing I should have expected no more. I looked at Dalca.

“You asked me to release him.” He shrugged. “They released him.”

I looked away. “I’m sorry,” I whispered to the priest.

“We leave now,” Dalca shouted.

Luc asked, “What shall I do with him, Master?”

“Bring him.”

Luc grabbed me by the shoulder and hustled me away. Dalca shouted back to the others to continue their party.

The music resumed and Dalca called for his carriage, which arrived at the front door as we did. Luc shoved me inside the coach and jumped in with me while Dalca took his station as the driver. The carriage burst forward and we clung to the leather handles. Sonia was right—he would keep me alive until he was certain he had found his wife. Between the bouncing and yawing of the vehicle, I was shaken nearly senseless. In what seemed like an impossibly short time, the carriage slowed, then stopped.

Dalca snapped open the coach door, reached in, and yanked me outside. He had parked on the near side of the bridge, not crossing into the village. The night had lost its full moon behind dense clouds, and a spray of rain hit me as I stepped out.

I had not factored rain into my electrical plans.

Dalca grabbed me by the chest and carried me toward the bridge. In his other hand he carried a rat. I heard him breathe deeply as we passed Sonia’s house, and I smelled the blood on his breath. He moved his eyes quickly about. Luc followed behind.

“If I see anyone, I will snap your necks—both of you.” In a blur we arrived at the front of the church. “Where?”

Luc said, “Through the side entrance, in the middle of the floor, under the eyes of Jesus.”

He squinted in distrust and shoved me forward. “Show me.”

I ran to the door and opened it. Dalca looked side to side before entering, then only briefly looked up at the face of Jesus on the ceiling. His head kept moving as he slowly approached the excavation site, and as he looked into the hole he took a deep breath through his teeth and exhaled. When he looked back at me his eyes glowed a shade of red I had never seen.

“Leave,” he said in a voice that sounded like a growl.

Dalca leapt into the hole with the rat as I closed the side door and ran to my spot over the stone fence.

Luc was not to be seen, nor was the Gypsy. I wondered what had become of our plan. Perhaps they had either run for home or taken different positions.

Listening for sounds to come out of the darkened church, I heard a whisper to my right.

“Joseph.”

I looked but saw nothing.

“Joseph.”

When I saw a hand reach up out of the ground I sprang back with fright, clearing the stone wall in a vault.

“Joseph,” the voice called a third time.

Peeking back over the wall, I saw a small light shine on the face of the Gypsy as he lifted a sod-covered board. He must have built a foxhole in my absence and topped it with material the vampire could not see through. I jumped back over the stone wall and into the foxhole with him and waited, shamed that I would think him a deserter.

It did not take long. Moments later I heard a howl that exploded through the night and shook the very air around us like thunder. Anyone within a couple miles was sure to have heard his voice. Afterward, there was a moaning sound that must have meant he’d discovered what position she lay in.

“Erika,” I thought I heard him moan, though I would have believed myself too far away to hear his low voice. “My beautiful, beautiful Erika. I’m here, I’m here. Take this.” I heard the rat squeal one last time.

The rain picked up and began splashing off the ground into our faces, creating mud.
Of all nights to rain,
I thought. Lightning cracked in the woods, followed by a roll of thunder.

From the church, Dalca emitted several loud grunts, as if he were trying to lift something, or pull something.

The Gypsy pushed me.
“Hai
mergem!”
he said, pointing to the church.
Let’s go.

Up and over the stone wall, I ran across the slick ground to the church wall, the Gypsy a step behind me. We knelt at the drain spout and removed the plastic cover from the dry-cell battery, and the Gypsy quickly attached the wires to the terminals. He pulled out his magnetic horseshoe and touched the terminals. Nothing. The red bulb above failed to light; the rain had foiled our plans.

The noise inside grew as Dalca sustained a loud, long howl.

I recalled how Sonia described the act of vampires coupling, that they would be joined for several minutes until he finished, and only after he finished could they physically separate.

The Gypsy stood up and ran. I thought he was retreating until I saw him stop at the front of the priest’s truck and fumble with the hood latch. He threw the hood open and quickly yanked the cables off the battery. He heaved the heavy auto battery out of the truck, then carried it back to our position.

Dalca’s howl began to dissolve.

The Gypsy unhooked the wires from the dry cell and held them to the truck’s battery terminals.