Whitby Vampyrrhic (19 page)

‘Is that a “yes”, then?'

‘Yes. I know he's not human. But equally I know that neither a crucifix nor garlic will scare him. A stake through the heart does not kill them. Local legend has it that the Vampiric creatures of Whitby can only be destroyed in three ways: beheading, dismemberment or burning.'

Beth sat down in the chair. ‘You intend to kill Gustav and his friends?'

‘I've evaded my responsibility for too long. I hoped that someone else would do it for me. But apart from the family in Leppington that supplies the Salts, and my brother, I'm the only one to know. Well, we and Victoria's family, of course, and they keep their mouths shut with regard to that particular issue.'

‘Tell the police.'

‘And they will take me to an asylum. Who will give Victoria and Theo the Salts? Without daily doses, they will eventually transform.'

‘Something extraordinary has happened here, Eleanor,' Beth told her. ‘But do you expect us to believe that monsters, with a taste for human blood, emerge from the cliffs every night to attack human beings?'

Eleanor sighed. ‘What bit Sally? What did she see in the cellar last night?'

Sally flinched. ‘You mean, I didn't imagine that man beneath the grate?'

‘No, dear. You met Gustav.'

‘Then we're in danger.' Beth eyed the door; all of a sudden, it seemed a flimsy barrier to the yard and to whatever might prowl there.

‘Yes, you're in grave danger.' Eleanor's expression was one of pained sadness. ‘Gustav returns to try and talk to me at least once a year. Mostly, he enters the tunnel that runs from the waterfront to the shaft beneath the iron grate. You see, he tried so very, very hard to stay human. Gustav was such a gentle boy. A lovely human being who wouldn't hurt anyone, or even say anything bad about people. Even though he craves blood, he uses every shred of willpower to stop himself attacking people.'

‘But something happened?'

‘The war happened. Suddenly, fresh bodies were being washed up on the beach from torpedoed ships. Aircraft were shot down at night. Gustav and his friends were offered a tempting feast every time a ship sank offshore, or men tumbled out of the sky. The smell of blood stained the very air. If you're as hungry as they are, how long would you resist if tempting food were put in front of you? And they did resist for a long time. But then . . .' She shrugged. ‘They could resist no longer.'

‘But vampires, or even Vampiric beasts, Eleanor?' Alec resisted the facts that had been lain out before him. ‘How can a sane individual believe?'

Eleanor headed for the stairs. ‘Your doubt is understandable. That's why I'm going to take you to the cave.'

‘Hag's Lung?' Sally trembled. ‘I'd be too afraid.'

‘You need proof. Firstly, I'll check that Theo is settled for the night.'

‘Why should we need proof?' Alec rubbed the patch over his eye. When he became anxious it was obviously irritating to him. ‘This isn't our war.'

‘Is the fight against Hitler not your war, either? Would you prefer to make friends with him?'

‘That's a vile suggestion.'

‘So, why can't you help me fight the evil that comes to our very doors?' Eleanor's voice rose. ‘People are going missing in Whitby. Because of this war, the disappearances are covered up by the authorities. They don't want to alarm the public. And because we are forced to keep the streets dark at night, Gustav and his kind are free to move around. The blackout is their playground. They can do what they like.'

‘So what's it to be, Eleanor?' Beth asked. ‘Beheading, dismemberment or fire?'

‘Something a little more scientific. But first we'll visit the cave. I'll show you the creatures trapped in the sump.'

‘
If
they're still trapped,' Sally added darkly.

‘Oh, they must still be locked away in there.'

‘How do you know?'

‘Because if they weren't, my dear, you would have become one of them by now. And I would have to kill you, too.'

Four

Tommy searched the streets of Whitby for his parents. Even though the town had yielded to absolute darkness, the boy saw every cottage, kennel, alleyway and tavern. The dog loped alongside. Sam's short fur appeared to shine like black glass to the boy's dark-adapted eye. A restlessness to find his family didn't allow him to pause for long. He sensed they called to him.
But where are they? They always seem just beyond my reach.
Of course, Tommy had yet to understand that his parents had died decades ago. His little sister was now an old woman in a nursing home in Scarborough. In a yellowing, faded album, there were photographs of her, her mother and father, and Tommy, a cheerful boy of eleven, who had vanished one winter's night in 1868.

Sam sped alongside Tommy as they ran along Church Street to the market square. The clock's hands touched eleven. No townsfolk ventured out into the darkness. Tommy had seen soldiers with rifles up on the cliffs. But he couldn't understand why they needed to stand guard there. Any more than he could identify those black crosses that rumbled overhead after sunset. The word ‘aeroplane' had no meaning for him. Tommy recalled his father would often visit the Black Horse Inn to drink a glass of that rich, amber beer while he discussed the day's fishing with friends. His father never drank as much as the other men, preferring to return to his family before the children's bedtime. Might his father have hurt himself on the way back from the inn? Maybe he lay in the street, waiting for Tommy to find him?

Tommy entered the little cobbled area known as Market Place. Like the streets, it slumbered away the night hours in silence. The boy and his dog circled the peculiar stone building, which rested on pillars at the entrance to the yard, where stalls of vegetables and baked meats would be set out by day. He scoured the stone pavement, expecting to see the slumped figure of his father. All he found were discarded cigarette butts, matches, apple cores, shreds of newspaper – no sign of a man needing Tommy's help to get safely home.

Every so often, Sam would glance in the boy's direction. The dog sensed the child's anxiety. And from time to time he picked up on a yearning to find something precious that had become lost.

As he crossed the square, Tommy cried out in excitement. A man stood with his back to him. Tommy wanted so desperately to find his dad that for a moment he recognized the figure as his broad-shouldered fisherman father. He knew that line of the jaw as the head began to turn. Already, he could imagine his father's face breaking into a smile, when he saw his son running towards him.

‘Dad!' Tommy ran faster, his arms held out for the warm hug his father always gave him when he returned to port.

But the figure before him wasn't his father. Sam stopped dead, his front legs splayed out, a snarl rolled in his throat.

The man lunged at Tommy. A pair of viciously powerful hands gripped his arms. The face that loomed out of the shadows had the stark, white quality of bone. The eyes that burnt into Tommy's were bereft of colour. The pupils were points of darkness.

‘A boy . . . A boy in a hurry . . .' murmured a cold voice. The grin that followed revealed small, even teeth that looked strangely out of place in the mouth.

Sam launched himself at the man. Before he could sink his fangs into the man's leg another figure flew from the shadows. It gripped the dog by the throat.

Tommy tried to kick free as the lady in the pale nightdress pulled the dog away. ‘Save some of the boy's blood for me. You must!' she hissed.

‘Try dog blood,' the man uttered. ‘It might be sweeter than you think.'

More figures flowed into square. One wore strange clothes: a helmet of leather and goggles that covered his eyes. Alongside him stood a man dressed in white. For some reason he wore a brightly striped tie around his waist in place of a belt.

The man holding Tommy chuckled. ‘Just a sip each from this.'

The man in white approached, his keen eyes studying Tommy's face. ‘He's not mortal. You won't find an ounce of blood in his veins.'

‘But he's not one of us,' said the man holding Tommy. ‘I'd have known.'

The white-clad man shook his head. ‘He's older than us. Much older. Maybe he's beyond bloodlust now, or maybe his transformation is different to ours.'

Tommy's captor tugged the boy's wrist towards his face. ‘He bears the same scars as we do, Gustav.'

‘Nevertheless, he's not the same. Not quite.'

‘But he must be. Everyone who is bitten by our kind transforms,' said the woman in the white, as she gripped the dog's neck. Sam still struggled, trying to get his teeth into her hands, his eyes rolling in fury.

‘Eleanor didn't.' Gustav took the boy's chin in his hand and raised it so that he could study his face. ‘Eleanor received the gift the same night as me, but she never transformed. The gods must have another use for her.' He smiled. ‘As I was fond of saying, “Tiw strikes again.”'

The captor relaxed his grip on Tommy. ‘Then he's no use to us.'

‘Keep hold,' the woman hissed. ‘If he's not the same as us, he'll become a danger.'

‘Just a child,' Gustav declared. ‘Doesn't he wear such a sad expression? He's a lost boy.'

‘Destroy him.' The woman exerted a crushing grip on the dog's neck. ‘Rip him to pieces.'

‘How could this little scrap of a thing harm us?' Gustav released his hold on Tommy's jaw. ‘He's just skin and bone.'

‘Don't underestimate him.' The woman had spite in her eye. ‘What if he leads them to where we sleep?'

‘Look at the style of his clothes. He must have been roaming Whitby for sixty years or more. In all that time he can't have touched a human being, let alone caused any harm.'

‘Did you hear that, boy?' The inhuman eyes of the woman burnt in the darkness. ‘You left your mortal self behind over half a century ago. Your mother and father will be long dead. There's nothing for you here now. Just ask us to end your misery, and we'll do it.'

Words spurted from Tommy's lips. ‘Ma and Dad aren't dead. You're lying. And get your hands off my dog. Can't you see you're hurting him?'

Sam squirmed in the woman's rough grasp.

‘I'm putting an end to the dog,' snarled the woman. ‘Both are a risk to us.'

‘We're not monsters,' Gustav told her. ‘We retain human qualities.' Gently, he asked, ‘Boy, what's your name?''

‘Tommy, sir.'

‘Tommy. We are here for a higher purpose. Not to kill boys and their dogs.'

The woman hissed, ‘If you let them go, you'll regret it.'

Gustav shook his head. ‘This is nothing but a poor boy and his mutt. Tommy's no longer alive in the accepted sense, neither is he dead. Allow him and the animal to go unharmed.'

Gustav touched the arm of the man who held Tommy. The moment the man released him, the woman threw the dog aside. She flew at Tommy, her fingers hooked into claws, her mouth yawning wide. Gustav darted forward, blocking her way. As she snarled in frustration, Tommy ran to Sam. The dog wagged his tail and licked the back of his hand.

The woman blazed with anger. ‘I thought you were intelligent, Gustav. You and all that book learning, and the son of a doctor. But you're a fool. If that boy isn't one of us, then he must be our enemy. Rip him and his mutt to pieces while you can.'

‘If Tommy didn't make the same transformation as we did, he has a unique purpose. The gods have plans for him.'

‘Plans? Gods? Higher purposes?' the woman sneered. ‘You talk about this old Viking god, Tiw, like he's real. It's all imagination. Wake up, scatterbrained dreamer. You're all mixed up in make-believe. Listen. The world is a battlefield. The Allies fight the Nazis. But our war is with mortals. We're fighting for our survival.'

‘What did people do to you to make you so bitter, Mary? Why do you hate?'

‘I'm a realist. There is no old pagan god tugging puppet strings. We're just hungry vampires who need good, hot blood inside of us. That's all. Blood. Plenty of rich, tasty blood to fill our bellies.'

‘Mary. We're not vampires. We're more than that. We have a special purpose.'

‘And so have I.' She whirled to where Tommy stroked his dog. ‘And one of my purposes is to destroy those two. I'll crush them and bury them out on the moor. Mark my words, Gustav, you can't guard them forever.'

Even as she spoke, all self-restrain evaporated. Once more, she lunged at Tommy and his dog, jaws stretched wide, hands grasping for Tommy's throat. Just in time, Gustav caught the woman. Like a wild cat she writhed in his arms. The other vampires were stirred by the violence. Their expressions grew more inhuman, as they fixed Tommy and Sam with predatory eyes.

Gustav called to Tommy, ‘Go . . . they're changing. Even I can't stop them now . . . Go on! Run!'

Tommy and Sam fled into the darkness. Behind them, the man in white tried to calm his companions. But they weren't listening to reason. They wanted blood.

Five

All the town's clocks struck midnight. A cool breeze sighed around the chimney pots. From the direction of the beaches, ocean rollers boomed long and low, as they had done for ten thousand years. Slowly, the moon emerged from a cloud bank to illuminate their way.

Beth Layne ascended the cliff-side steps. At her side, Sally panted. The stiff climb started to take its toll on the pair. Behind and below, the jumble of red roofs appeared to be intersected by rivers of darkness. These were the deep streets and alleyways of a sleeping Whitby. Ahead of Beth, Alec and Eleanor hurried up the steps. An eagerness drew the duo up to the darkness of the cliff heights.