The Disciple and Other Stories of the Paranormal (23 page)

I reached the Abbey before dusk. The tall,
several-storied stone building sat at the top of a small hill. The
village buildings were clustered around the Abbey’s grounds – it
was the center point of this town.

The Abbey looked old and well maintained
from the outside. The people cared about it. Or at least, they
had.

No one was about – neither human nor animal
were apparent to my senses. Not only that, but there were no signs
of war, and no signs of the Black Death. Proof the other plague had
come here, possibly many years prior.

I pushed at the entry door – it opened
without resistance. I drew one of my Nightsticks. I had three
others, each nestled in their velvet sheathes, hooked to my belt.
They weighed heavily on me, but not as heavily as the loneliness. I
didn’t allow myself to fear – I couldn’t afford the luxury.

The handcart with the rest of my gear I hid
in a haystack at the outskirts of this village. I shouldn’t have
brought the extra two Nightsticks along. I’d never done so before,
but they made me feel less alone, as if one of the others, Marcus
or Hannah, perhaps, were fighting at my side. I had more than my
usual backup with me, that was all. So I told myself. As with
loneliness, I couldn’t afford the luxury of fear, either.

I listened before I stepped inside but heard
nothing. I left the door open to take advantage of the remaining
light. Besides, once night came, a closed door wouldn’t protect
me.

The room was lined with candleholders. Each
held a partly burned candle, but none were lit – a bad sign. The
grate was cold and empty, and a quick examination showed no fire
had been lit for months. For this time of year, a worse sign than
the unlit candles.

The room wasn’t in disarray, but smelled
dusty and dead.

I found a flint and lit the candles,
watching for any signs of life or movement. The room was smaller
than I’d expected it to be, but this Abbey was more tall than wide.
The interior was all dark wood with only a small wooden table and
chairs inside. An antechamber, perhaps, used for visitors, with
three doors and one stairway leading up.

A single lamp with an unburned candle in it
sat on the table. I lit the wick and took the lamp with me.

I checked the doors first. The one to the
right led to the large kitchen which accounted for most of the
ground level. No one was here and no fresh food was in evidence,
either. I smelled only the odor of decay. I did a cursory search –
I had a good idea of what was causing the smell.

Nothing. But all this meant was someone had
cleaned up. Possibly because they knew I was coming. The thought
wasn’t comforting, but not a shock, either. Someone had known we
were coming for, as near as I could tell, almost as long as we’d
been here.

Another door led to the dining hall, also
deserted, with no signs of meals taken or interrupted for some
time.

The door from the dining room led to the
chapel. This Abbey’s layout was an odd design, one I hadn’t seen
before. What this meant I had no way of knowing.

The chapel looked typical – pews, an altar,
religious symbols and statuary, a large cross. It was untouched,
and the dust layer was thick, thicker than in the other rooms. I
sneezed, several times. The dust here was real. The dust elsewhere
was something else again, because human ashes never made me
sneeze.

The stained-glass windows were intact – one
on each side of the room, set to catch the first and last rays of
the sun. I stared at the picture of the Resurrection on the western
wall and wondered if Jesus had known what plague was to come. A
part of me wondered if the vampires were part of God’s plan, a way
to test humanity – to test me.

Returning to the antechamber, I went to the
middle door – this led to the interior yard. There was no one
there, but I was able to confirm what the window in the chapel had
told me – I was losing the sun.

Unlike most Abbeys, there were no buildings
around the yard, merely a low wall, too high for a man to jump
easily, but a strong horse or stag probably could. The yard looked
serene, with scattered benches, trees that had lost their leaves in
preparation for winter, and a small pond.

I went to the pond and performed the
cleansing and purification ceremony. I might not get to use this
new source of holy water, but without another person to work with
I’d found more creative ways to provide backup for myself.

As I finished the ceremony I noted there
were no sounds, no animals or insects I could hear. All was
unnaturally still.

My task completed, I returned to the Abbey’s
interior and checked the last door, the one to the left, by the
stairway. It opened into the Abbot’s office. Again, nothing
disturbed or touched for days, maybe longer. And yet, all the dust
everywhere had not made me sneeze – only the dust in the chapel had
done so.

I left the office, took a deep breath, and
steeled myself for the journey upward. The last rays of the sun
slipped away and darkness fell. I was sure now the plague had not
only been here, but was still around, waiting, hoping I’d leave or
at least make a mistake.

I planned to do neither.

I reached the second story landing and
instinct told me no one was here. This floor housed the dormitory.
I went cautiously and quietly from room to room, but found no one
and nothing amiss. Dust everywhere, but it still didn’t make me
sneeze.

The only thing I achieved by searching this
level was the certainty it was deserted and the minor reassurance
it was unlikely someone would be coming upon me from behind.

I went back to the middle of this floor,
stood silently, and listened. No insect or animal noises. No sounds
at all – except, perhaps, a slight whispering, like silk being
drawn gently across skin.

I couldn’t tell how many of them were up
there, but at least some of this group were on the third level.

By now I was certain a strong clan of
vampires had made the Abbey their home. I was also certain they
were here, somewhere, waiting for me. Their sense of smell would
tell them I was here, but I’d been inside the Abbey long enough
they’d have trouble telling if my scent was nearer or not. I could
take the time to ensure I was ready.

I loosened my Nightstick holders just enough
to allow me to grab a backup but not so their contents would spill
out, even if I did a flip. My hair was already tied back, and I
pulled my skullcap on. My ponytail hung from the opening in the
back of the skullcap and I tucked it inside the back of my vest, in
part for camouflage – I was in all black and my hair’s reddish-gold
hue would stand out – and also to keep my hair from being easily
grabbed by my enemies.

I took my infrared goggles out of the small
pouch hooked to my belt and put them on. I left the lamp burning –
it might confuse them into thinking I was still on the second floor
for a few moments. And in these fights, every moment counted.

I fingered the vials of holy water still in
my pouch, but left them there. I had a feeling there would be too
many for the water to be effective, at least until I could drive
them into the courtyard.

Finally I pulled a second Nightstick into my
free hand. I wasn’t going to be knocking when I reached the top
anyway.