Whitby Vampyrrhic (22 page)

Beth raised herself to one elbow. Breezes tugged at the grass, as if invisible claws raked at it.
So, why am I lying here in the graveyard at night? What brought me here?
She blinked.
Have they left me here to be buried?
She extended her hand into the shadows, wondering if she lay beside an open grave. Then came the pad of soft footsteps. They were rapid steps . . . searching . . . hunting for something they knew they'd find here. A flurry of movement appeared over the top of a headstone. A face peered down at hers.

‘Beth, are you awake yet?'

‘Sally?'

‘Oh, thank God!' Her friend knelt beside her. ‘I've never been so scared. After we got away from the cave with all those
things
 . . . those vampires! . . . we ran through the graveyard. You collapsed here. I thought you'd dropped down dead.'

Beth sat up. ‘Dead. I feel half dead. What happened?'

‘Don't you remember?'

Beth shook her head.

Sally shuddered. ‘We went into that awful Hag's Lung. I remember dancing with Alec . . . and we were
kissing.
My head felt all funny. It must have been that brandy. Soldiers arrived. Then all these monsters rushed in. They must be the vampires that Eleanor told us about. There was shooting – bullets went smack, smack, smack all over the cave. I thought we'd be hit, and then those monsters were on the soldiers . . . biting, and . . . and killing . . .'

Beth's mind suddenly cleared. ‘I remember now. My God. Eleanor drugged us. That's why we felt so weird. She wanted to prove that the vampires really existed.'

‘They do exist. They nearly caught us.'

‘Where are Eleanor and Alec now?'

‘I–I don't know. We got split up. It's so dark in those bushes.'

‘Sally, we must go back to the hotel. We need to lock the doors.'

Sally was appalled. ‘You think the vampires will come for us?'

‘I know it for a fact.'

‘What about Eleanor and Alec?'

‘We can't wait here. Come on.'

Beth seized her friend's hand. The pair hurried through the graveyard to the top of the cliff steps. Moonlight revealed houses on the steep hillside, which rose from the far bank of the River Esk. All the houses faced this way. They rose in tiers, one on top of the other, hundreds and hundreds of them. Beth realized what all those pale buildings reminded her of. The similarity of an expectant audience, sat in rows of seats in a theatre, startled her with its power. Those masses of buildings resembled skull-like faces. The windows were unblinking eyes. They stared at Beth and Sally. Just like an audience watching a play, they expected dramatic events to befall the two women, and befall them soon.

Damn them
, Beth thought,
it's as if those houses know something dreadful is going to happen. They've got a perfect view. They want to witness our tragedy. That's true, isn't it, Whitby? You're going to enjoy watching our deaths.

Sally tugged Beth's arm. ‘Look! They're coming after us.'

Beth glanced back in the direction of the abbey ruins. Dark shapes flowed smoothly over the graveyard wall. Then the vampires ran through the tombstones towards them. Metal buttons glinted on uniforms – the Vampiric transformation had been a fast one. Because, surely, just moments ago those had been the soldiers in the cave.

‘What now?' Sally asked in desperation. ‘We can't go back that way. And we can't run down the steps. They'll see us. Oh, Beth, what are we going to do?'

Beth stood frozen there, with Whitby spread out before them. And she had to admit to herself:
I don't know what to do. Because we can't outrun them. We're trapped.

Nine

Tommy slunk through shadow cast by the cemetery wall. Sam padded after him. Both were alert; senses keen. Tommy could smell the aroma from the sheds, where the fish were smoked, down on Henrietta Street. He heard waves on the beach a quarter of a mile away. And he saw the undulating shapes of gravestones that had been eroded into fantastic forms.

More importantly, he saw that the vampires sped towards two women, who stood at the head of the steps. They were paralysed with fear. Followed by Sam, he hurried along the cobbled lane that ran in a deep depression beside the graveyard.

‘Lady,' he hissed to the woman nearest him. ‘Lady. Here.'

Alarmed, she shot him a glance.

‘Quickly, lady. Climb down here.'

She hesitated; her eyes were large with fear.

‘Please lady. They'll catch you, if you don't.'

The woman glanced back. By moonlight, the approaching pack of hungry vampires must have been all too clear, and all too terrible, to see.

The woman grabbed her companion's arm. ‘Sally, follow me.' She swung herself over the cemetery wall, then dropped down into the deep lane. It hugged the same route as the one hundred and ninety-nine steps, yet at a much lower level, into the town below.

Both women were young, and very pretty. Sam wagged his tail in greeting and sniffed the hand of the blonde lady. The other woman froze.

‘Beth! That isn't a boy . . . not a proper boy . . . It's one of those things.'

The blonde spoke to him. ‘My name's Beth. You're here to help us, aren't you?'

He nodded.

The sound of feet rushing through the cemetery announced that the mob of creatures wasn't far away.

Beth pulled her friend's arm. ‘He's not going to harm us. Come on.'

Tommy whispered, ‘Follow me. But you can't outrun them.'

The one called Sally gave a soft sob. ‘Oh God.'

The boy led them a few paces down the steep incline. The moment they reached the first line of cottages, he pointed to a narrow gap between a wall and a shed. ‘Hide. Don't make a sound.'

Beth said, ‘You go in first.'

‘No. Sam and me are going to lead them away. We'll make lots of noise, and, if they don't see us properly, the bad men will follow. Hurry, get yourselves in the yard, or they'll hurt you.' The boy snatched up a stone from the lane. Then, pausing just long enough to make sure that the two had concealed themselves behind the high wall, he streaked away at lightning speed. He rapped on cottage walls as he ran. Sure enough, the vampires followed. They were in a state of high excitement. In fact, they reminded Tommy of a bunch of men who'd drunk too much beer and had decided to rampage through town in search of mischief.

Sam ran alongside, his long black legs making easy work of the distance. They avoided the roads and lanes of Whitby, favouring instead the tiny alleyways. Tommy continued to smack the pebble against walls, fence posts and iron railings. The clack, thud and clangs echoed out over the town. To the hungry vampires it could have been a dinner bell summoning them to a feast. They followed, running as fast as they could. But Tommy knew all the hidden pathways and secret routes through back yards. When he'd drawn the creatures safely away from the two women, he cast the stone into the harbour, then he and his companion slipped noiselessly away into the night.

Ten

Beth and Sally hid in the yard. The darkness owned a suffocating, liquid quality. They could see nothing. And the darkness seemed to not only fill their eyes, but to flood into their mouths and nostrils.

Sally pressed herself against Beth for reassurance. Beth flinched at every sound. Any moment, she expected a stark face, with blazing eyes, to rush at them from the gloom. Closing her eyes didn't help. For, if she did, that's when she replayed the events of the night – how they'd entered the cave, and how she'd peered through the hole in the cave wall and glimpsed those swarming creatures. They must have filled the adjoining cavern, like vermin crammed into a tiny cage. They were packed together in a loathsome mass of intertwined arms and legs; their slippery grey bodies rolled over one another. She remembered that pair of eyes that had glared through the dwarf tunnel in the rock. And then there was the attack on the soldiers. She shuddered.

To distract herself from those troubling images, she whispered, ‘I'm sure we're safe now. The boy's led them away.'

‘Boy?' Sally's faint voice had a tremulous quality. ‘Boy? Did you see his face . . . My God, he's one of those vampires.'

‘But he didn't try and harm us. He feared them, just as much as we did.'

‘Did you see his eyes? They didn't have any colour. The pupils looked as if they belonged to an animal . . . No, not an animal, a monster.'

‘He saved our lives, didn't he?' She gave Sally a friendly hug. ‘And he had a dog – a real, living dog. That wouldn't stay with him if he was a danger.' For a while, they huddled there in the biting cold of the February night. Eventually, Beth whispered, ‘I can't hear them. The boy's plan must have worked.'

‘Then God bless him,' was Sally's heartfelt response.

‘We should go to the hotel. We'll be safe there.'

They crept from their hiding place. Once more, they found themselves on the steep track that ran some eight feet below the level of the steps, yet still followed its line. Together, they descended into the moonlit town. Beth marvelled at the miracle of their escape. The smooth blocks of stone were set at an alarming incline.
It's a wonder we didn't slip. If we had, those creatures would have been on us in seconds. And if they had caught us . . .
She decided not to share her thoughts with Sally. The woman had had enough scares for one night as it was.

It took little more than five minutes to reach level ground. This, the junction of Church Street and Henrietta Street, didn't seem much wider than a pathway between the lines of cottages. Beth figured they were just a couple of hundred yards from the Leviathan Hotel – of course, she'd told Sally they would be safe there, but those windows were flimsy things. She didn't place a great deal of faith in them holding Gustav and his hungry pack at bay. So how could they fight these creatures? They didn't retreat before crucifixes, holy water, or garlic – at least that's what Eleanor had inferred.

They'd gone perhaps thirty paces along Church Street, when they encountered the straggler. The moon illuminated him clearly. Beth saw he wore army boots and a dull khaki coat. One of the epaulettes fluttered from his shoulder. The young man wobbled as he walked. From time to time, he rested his palm against the wall of a cottage to steady himself.

Beth whispered to Sally, ‘One of the soldiers got away from the cave.'

‘He must have been hurt, though. Look, the poor man can hardly walk.'

Beth hurried towards the shambling figure. ‘Sir? Let us help you.'

The man turned to them. ‘What's happened to me?' Bloodstains formed streaky patterns down the front of his coat. Teeth marks stippled the side of his face.

‘You were attacked,' Sally told him. ‘We'll get you to a doctor.'

‘But why do I feel different inside?' He swayed. ‘My blood is on fire.'

The man sucked in a huge lungful of air. His back straightened. Then his eyes changed. The blue of the iris leeched away. The eyes were white – all white. And the pupils became dots of hungry blackness. A darkness that longed to suck the life out of the world.

‘Run!' Beth yanked her friend backwards.

‘Come here,' he moaned. ‘I need you.'

They fled along the street. The soldier took steps towards them, unsteady at first, then with growing confidence. Moments later, he ran – ready to chase them down as a panther chases down a fawn.

The unbroken line of cottages hemmed the pair in. They pounded at doors in the hope some saviour would let them enter. But all the cottages were locked, formidably locked and bolted, as if to seal the occupants from the outside world. No lights showed from windows. Not a curtain moved. A sudden vision struck Beth. The people of Whitby sheltered inside.
They are frightened.
For they knew exactly what event unfurled night after night in these streets. Indoors, families huddled together to wait out the dangers of the night. No power on Earth would entice them into opening so much as a window between sunset and sunrise.

The pair ran hard. Behind them, the soldier's boots created an almighty clatter. When hobnails in the soles crashed against paving stones, a flash of vivid blue sparks shot outwards.

‘It's no good,' Sally panted. ‘Henrietta Street leads to the harbour pier. It's a dead end!'

A figure stepped out in front of them. A slight figure . . . almost fragile. Beside him, a black dog, with the white, heart-shaped patch beneath its throat. Fur bristled upwards as it saw the approaching vampire.

Beth could barely breathe she was so exhausted, yet she managed to utter, ‘Just pray he . . . he can save our skins again.'

The boy pointed to a shed. Pale smoke trailed from vents high in the walls. A sign by the shed door announced,
Kippers Smoked To Order. Enquire 4 Henrietta Street.

Dazed by the headlong dash, Beth rushed through the gate, then burst through the door of the shed. Sally followed. There, inside, masses of fish hung from rails. The fish had been sliced open, then flattened until they resembled teardrop shapes. The pungent smell of herrings and smoke instantly prickled Beth's throat. Beneath the fish were metal trays the size of table tops; they were heaped with glowing embers. The smoke from smouldering wood cured the fish hanging above. Sally hurried into the far corner of the shed to hide herself. Beth returned to the doorway.

Beth had expected the boy to try and lead the Vampiric soldier away; however, the boy stood his ground.

Beth shouted, ‘No – you can't fight him!'