Vampire Seeker (12 page)

I looked away from Harry as the preacher clucked at his horse and slowly rode away from the front of the saloon. Louise and
Zoe followed and so did I. Within moments, Harry had passed me on his horse and was riding alongside the others.

I rocked back and forth in time with Moon, remembering to keep my back straight and elbows relaxed. Had someone taught me
to ride at some point? I couldn’t remember. When would that have taken place – at some time in my future, or in
a past which I couldn’t recall?

The ride to the train station didn’t take long. It stood just on the outskirts of town. There was only the one platform
and a small waiting room and ticket office. Both had been constructed out of the same sun-bleached wood as the buildings back
in town. Above the front of the doors, a sign had been fixed and it read,
Black Water Gap Railroad Station
. There were no other passengers that I could see.

“Whoa,” the preacher breathed, pulling gently back on the reins. His horse stopped with a nod of its head. During
the short distance that we had travelled, the sun had almost faded away on the horizon, leaving behind a pink hazy strip of
light. The sky had started to grow dark, and with it I noticed the preacher, Harry, and Zoe had started to look more like
themselves. The preacher swung down out of his saddle, the tiredness, which had seemed so crippling before, now gone. We all
dismounted and approached the front of the station. Slowly, the double doors swung open and Spencer Drake stepped from the
shadows that seemed to lurk inside.

As he stood before us, a wooden walking stick in his hand, I realised for the first time how tall the man was. He stood over
six-foot-three and his frame was slender. His black hair was swept off his forehead, and his green eyes shone like cat’s
eyes in the twilight. He smiled and I was reminded of how perfect his mouth was. He walked towards us, lifting his walking
stick and carrying it over his shoulder. He didn’t appear to limp or have any disability, so I guessed the walking stick
was some kind of bling more than anything else. He was dressed in a grey suit, waistcoat, and black boots, which gleamed with
polish. As he stood before us in his dark clothes and pale face, I couldn’t help but think that he looked like a magician’s
wand.

“Good evening, Preacher,” he said, then nodded quickly at the rest of us, as if acknowledging our presence. “Are
you ready?”

“Ready for what?” Harry grunted, although Drake hadn’t been addressing him.

With a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, Drake eyed Harry and said, “Anything, I guess.”

Stepping away from his horse, the preacher approached Drake and said, “That might be closer to the truth than you believe.”

“I believe in a lot of things, Preacher,” Drake said back, “but not in myths and legends – just the
things that I can see and touch.”

“A skeptic?” Zoe cut in, eyeing Drake up and down.

“Just like Thomas the Disciple,” the preacher smiled at Drake. “He didn’t believe that the Lord had
been resurrected until he saw Jesus’s wounds.”

“What are you saying?” Drake smiled back at the preacher, “That I too need to see wounds of some kind before
I will believe in these vampires that you talk of?”

“Blessed are they who have not seen, and yet have believed,” the preacher said.

“Is that what you say?” Drake asked him.

“No, that’s what the good Lord says,” the preacher winked back at him with a grim smile.

There was a silence as Drake stared back at the preacher. Then, the silence was broken by the sound of the station doors swinging
open. This was followed by the noise of metal being drawn against leather and I looked around to see the preacher and the
others had all drawn their guns at the sight of a man who was stepping clear of the waiting room. I looked down at my hands,
and could see that I too had drawn my own guns.

Raising his free hand before him, Drake said, “There is no need for alarm.” Then, gesturing the stranger forward
from the shadows, he added, “Let me introduce you to my physician, Marcus Dable.

“What do you need a doctor for?” the preacher breathed, slowly lowering his guns. “Are you sick?”

Drake waited for us all to holster our guns before he spoke again. “I have Anemia.”

“What’s that?” Zoe asked him.

“A blood disorder,” he said gravely. “My blood does not carry enough oxygen to the rest of my body. It can
often leave me feeling weak and tired.” Then taking the walking stick from where he had it rested over his shoulder,
he added, “Sometimes I can feel so tired and weak that I need a stick to keep me upright. Do not be alarmed by the presence
of my doctor. He is here to assist me, to keep me in good health.”

“Great,” Harry sighed. “It’s bad enough we’re even venturing up into those mountains, let alone
taking along someone who hasn’t got the faintest idea what they are heading into, and now admits that’s he going
to be as fast in a fight as a crippled turtle.”

“I’m not a cripple,” Drake said flatly. “Do not concern yourself with my health, Turner. I pay my
doctor to do that.”

“My employer is quite right,” Dable suddenly spoke up. “I will do my very best to keep him in good health
over what you suggest could be a very hazardous journey. He will not hinder you in any way.”

“He better not,” Harry said. “Because if we start getting crapped on from a great height, I ain’t
providing him with no umbrella.”

“You should have told us you had a disease,” the preacher said.

“Why, would you have turned me away?” Drake asked him with a raised eyebrow.

The preacher stared back at Drake as if considering his reply, but then slowly looked into the distance and said, “I
believe this is our train.”

All of us followed the preacher’s stare, and out of the distance, I could see a column of black smoke belching up into
the darkening sky. The whole ground seemed to rumble and shake as the steam train roared towards us like a giant black scorpion.
Steam hissed and spat from around the pistons that drove the wheels. The driver blew up on his horn, the sound tearing the
approaching night in half with its smoking roar. The train slowed as it neared the station, and thick clouds of dirty smoke
wafted around us. It was choking and smelt acrid. I covered my nose with my hand and pulled my hat low over my eyes as they
began to water.

“Isn’t she beautiful,” Drake said, more as a statement of fact rather than a question, leading us around
the outside of the waiting room and onto the platform. The train was definitely a monster. A huge, pointed cow catcher jutted
from the front of the engine like an iron pincer. The engine itself was long and sleek with one giant black funnel, which
continued to fill the night with plumes of black smoke. It was like a dragon was living inside of its metal body. The cab
was painted black as was the tender, which was overflowing with coal, and along its side in silver writing, were the words
Scorpion Steam
. Although the train was like some ancient beast, it was sleek-looking, with the silver rings that circled the funnel, and
a silver headlight at its front. In fact, as I looked along the length of the train, different parts shimmered brightly in
the dark. The carriage door handles were all silver, as were the window frames, and the glass in them was so dark, that anyone
on the train could see out, but others couldn’t see in.

“She is certainly impressive,” the preacher whistled through his teeth, pushing his hat back a little on his head
as if to get a better look at the Scorpion Steam.

“Impressive!” Drake roared with something close to boyish excitement. “She is magnificent! A true wonder!”
Then, turning to look at the preacher, he added, “I’ll wager she’ll outrun any vampire.”

“I’m not a betting man,” the preacher breathed, looking at the train that hissed and spat before him. “And
if I were, I’d only bet if the odds were heavily stacked in my favour – and they’re not.”

“I can see I’m yet to convince you, Preacher,” Drake said, slapping one hand down firmly on the preacher’s
shoulder.

He looked at Drake’s hand, and then fixed him with an icy stare. Smiling, Drake slid his hand slowly away. Then from
behind me, I heard a sudden noise. I looked back to see several smartly dressed men step from the waiting room and onto the
platform. Each of them was dressed in identical black suits and bowler hats, and they pushed before them a wooden trolley
which carried a large black trunk. Without so much as looking at us, they pushed the trolley past like a row of smartly dressed
porters. Immediately behind the tender was a huge carriage, which had a large door at one end. The porters, if that’s
what they were, passed this car and went to the next. They opened the door and between them, hoisted the trunks up into the
carriage.

“What’s in the boxes?” Harry asked Drake, who stood next to his private doctor.

“Supplies,” he said, eyeing Harry. “You want to eat on this journey, don’t you?”

Harry grunted and watched the trunks being carried onto the train. They were long, black, and made of metal.

“What’s with the guys in the funny hats?” Zoe asked, the balls of her hands resting against her pistols
in their holsters.

“Just some of my employees,” Drake smiled at her.

“Are they coming along, too?” Louise asked, watching them carefully.

“No, no, they will be returning back to London,” Drake smiled, moving towards one of the porters who was standing
by the open carriage door. He leant forward so their cheeks were almost brushing. Drake said something that I was unable to
hear and the porter looked at Drake, and then tipped the brim of his bowler hat as if acknowledging what had just been said
to him.

The porter moved away and went to our horses, which still stood in the dust outside the station. “What are you doing?”
Harry snapped as the porter started to lead his horse towards the train.

“There is no need for alarm, Turner,” Drake said. “Your horse is being stabled on board the train. It will
be well looked after.”

The porter led the horse to the giant dropdown door in the carriage adjacent to the tender. He lowered the door like a drawbridge
and led the horse inside. He reappeared moments later and went to the other horses outside the front of the station.

“Come, come,” Drake said, ushering us away. “Let us all board the Scorpion Steam.”

With his hands hanging beside his guns, the preacher looked at each of us in turn. Then we followed him and Drake along the
platform and boarded the Scorpion Steam.

Spencer Drake led us through the many carriages that formed the Scorpion Steam. He took delight in showing us how grand the
train was. And it was. Crimson silk curtains hung at every window, the floors were carpeted with deep rugs, and oil lamps
hidden beneath the most finely cut china shades hung from every wall or stood on the tables that lined the dining car. I counted
twelve cars in all. We had a berth each, and just like the rest of the train, our rooms were lavishly furnished. A narrow
aisle ran the length of the train outside our rooms so we could pass from one carriage to another.

The very last carriage had a glass ceiling so you could look up into the night sky and wonder at the thousands of stars above.
The end of the carriage opened out onto a small area, where you could sit and watch the scenery pass by.

“This is the observation room,” Drake said, a look of wonder on his face as he glanced up at the night sky through
the clear roof. “Glorious, isn’t it?”

“If you say so,” Harry remarked with a shrug of his thick-set shoulders.

“It is beautiful,” Zoe said glancing up. Drake glanced down at her and smiled, and I couldn’t help but feel
that there was more behind that smile than just friendliness. Zoe was stunningly beautiful and it hadn’t gone unnoticed
by Drake.

“What time do we eat?” Louise asked, guiding Zoe away from Drake, also noticing how he was looking at her.

“Dinner will be at midnight,” Drake said, pulling his watch from a pocket on the front of his charcoal grey waistcoat.

“Midnight,” I breathed, my own stomach beginning to rumble. I hadn’t eaten since the eggs and pink pulp
that morning.

Closing the front of the watch and placing it back into his pocket, Drake looked at us and said, “I’m sorry, but
perhaps I should have mentioned before that I keep strange hours. It’s my illness, you see. You won’t see me very
much during the day, if at all,” he smiled. “I’ll spend my days asleep, so please do not disturb me. If
you need anything, please speak with one of my staff.”

“Who?” Harry asked. “The doctor?”

“I’m afraid my doctor keeps the same odd hours that I do. He has to, you see, if he is to be at hand when I need
him.”

“You must pay him well,” the preacher said.

Drake shot a quick smile at the preacher and said, “I do therefore apologise for the lateness of dinner, but as I have
been resting all day, the hour suits me just fine.” Then looking at each of us in turn, he added, “I hope that
won’t be a problem to any of you.”

“No problem,” Harry said back, and glanced at the preacher.

“Splendid,” Drake smiled. He went to the door of the observation carriage, but before disappearing back into the
rest of the train, he glanced back and said, “I have taken the liberty of providing each of the beautiful ladies a dress
to wear to dinner tonight. You will find them in your rooms. I just thought – seeing as it is our first night aboard
the Scorpion Steam – that such an occasion demanded that the ladies look divine.”

Before any of us could say anything, he was gone, leaving us standing alone.

“I don’t like him,” Harry said. “He’s so crooked he could swallow nails and spit out corkscrews.”

“You said it,” Zoe agreed, staring back up at the night sky in wonder.

“I was beginning to wonder if you didn’t like him,” Louise said.

“Who me?” Zoe said, smiling to herself. “Nah, not my type.”

“What is your type?” Louise asked her.

“Someone who isn’t always frigging smiling,” and she glanced quickly across the carriage at Harry. He was
looking out of the window, as the train started to slowly pull out of the station.