Vampire Shift (Kiera Hudson Series #1) Page 6

  With my head pounding, I looked up to see the creature lying stunned on the ground against the wall. Stamping on the accelerator, I shot the car forward, my plan to crush her against the wall with the front of the police car. But just before striking her, she looked up, saw the danger that she was in and sprang away into the dark. With no time to react, the front of the police car crumpled against the wall, and again I shot forward in my seat. Sticking out my arms, I managed to absorb much of the impact. Screaming in pain, I heard a thud as something landed on top of the car.

  Looking up, I could see the roof begin to buckle inwards as the creature pounded her claws into the top of it. Dazed and confused, I tried to focus as I searched for the emergency lights and sirens. Finding the right switch, I punched it and the night lit up in strobes of luminous blue and red. The sirens started and above them, I heard the sound of screaming. Twisting in my seat, I looked out of the window and upwards, to see the creature, her claws pressed against her ears.

  Seizing the moment, I threw the car into reverse again and could have yelled in joy, as despite the damage to the car, it rumbled into life and started to roll backwards. With one hand on the wheel, and looking back over my shoulder, I tried to call for help again.

  “Luke! Luke!” I shrieked into my radio. “If you can hear me – please, I need you!’”

  Nothing.

  With the night sky throbbing blue and red and the whoop! whoop! sound of the sirens breaking apart its silence, I raced the car backwards, the monster wailing and banging above me. I found a gap in the road and spun the car around so it was facing away from the church and back towards town.

  I pressed as hard as I could on the accelerator. Blood continued to gush from my nose and it tasted coppery in my mouth. With the back of my sleeve, I wiped it away, and as I did, I saw Kristy scrambling from the roof of the car and onto the hood. With her eyes burning red and her mouth wide open in a scream, she launched herself at me through the broken windscreen. Losing control of the car, it crashed into a ditch, stopping dead in its tracks, lifting me from my seat and bashing my head against the roof. Everything started to turn black, and I fought to stay conscious, knowing that if I didn’t, I would be dead. Climbing onto the crumpled bonnet, the girl crawled towards me.

  “Keep away from me,” I cried, reaching for my Taser. Then, at the very last moment, changing my mind, I stuck my hand inside my jacket.

  “Hungry,” the girl hissed, climbing into the car via the broken windscreen. Licking her lips with a bright red tongue, spit swung from her jagged teeth.

  I looked into her eyes, and they seemed ablaze, as if her brain were on fire.

  “Hungry!” she screeched, lunging forward.

  “Suck on this!” I screamed and stabbed the tiny silver crucifix into her tongue. Almost at once, the girls eyes grew fat and wide and the brightness within them seemed to fade. Throwing her hands to her mouth, she gagged as if choking on glass. White foam began to ooze through her fingers, her mouth frothing like a rabid dog. Shrinking back from me, Kristy slid down the bonnet as if being dragged by her ankles. Screaming, a gush of milky-looking liquid shot from her mouth. It splattered over the bonnet of the car, blistering the paint. Covering my eyes with my arm, I watched as she shot backwards into the sky, disintegrating in an explosion of ash and dust.

  Sensing that the danger was over, I lent back in my seat. My chest was pumping up and down as I tried to gasp in air. Every part of me trembled, adrenaline racing through my body. Then, just when I thought it was all over, I heard the sound of footsteps racing towards the car. Glancing into the wing mirror, I could see a pair of black booted feet coming towards me. With trembling fingers, I reached for my Taser, but as everything around me started to fade, and I lost consciousness. The last thing I saw was Luke’s terrified face looking in at me through the shattered car window.

  When I woke, it was dark. I was lying on something soft. Although I felt disorientated and confused, I knew that someone was close. “Who’s there?” I asked, my voice sounding croaky.

  “It’s me, Luke,” he said.

  “Where am I?’”

  “Back in your room.”

  My head hurt and my face felt bruised. “Am I okay?” I asked, feeling drowsy.

  “You’ll be fine,” he said from the darkness. “Just some cuts and bruises. You were in a nasty car crash.”

  “It was a car crash?” I mumbled, consciousness fading again. “There was a vamp -”

  “Shhh,” he said, moving away. “We can talk about it tomorrow.”

  “Don’t go,” I whispered.

  “What?”

  “Stay with me,” I said.

  “Why?” he asked, coming back towards me in the dark.

  “I don’t want to be alone,” I told him.

  Then without another word, he climbed onto the bed next to me. Wrapping my arms around him and resting my head against his chest, I slipped back into unconsciousness.

  Chapter Eight

  It was light when I woke. Dull grey sunlight seeped in through my window, making my room look like an old black and white photograph. My head felt sore, as did my nose, and my mouth felt as if I’d been sucking on sandpaper all night. I was lying on top of my bed in just a T-shirt and knickers and I wondered how I’d gotten here and who had undressed me. Then I remembered Luke had been in my room last night and a vague image of me holding him came flooding back. Blushing, I pulled the blankets over me and called his name. I couldn’t see him, but the bathroom door was closed and I wondered if he might be in there.

  Getting no reply, I swung my legs over the side of the bed, and winced at the pain inside my head. In fact, my whole body ached and throbbed and I felt as if I’d been in a car wreck. Then as if being punched in the face, the memories of what had taken place the night before came rushing back. Like a waking nightmare, I could remember everything. Climbing into the open grave, finding the scratch marks on the underside of the coffin lid, Luke disappearing and not answering my calls on the radio, the girl Kristy Hall turning into a vampire and chasing after me as I tried to escape in the police car. Shuddering, I remembered how I had stabbed the crucifix into her tongue, then watched her explode in a pile of dust.

  Had all of that really happened? In my head, I tried to tell myself that it couldn’t have, but in my heart I knew that it had, and the realisation made me want to throw up. Hobbling to the bathroom, I knelt over the toilet and heaved. Once I’d been sick, I lent against the bath. What was happening to me? What was happening in The Ragged Cove?

  Feeling bruised and battered, I turned on the taps and started to fill the bath with warm water. Shuffling back into my room, I searched for my mobile phone. Holding it up into the grey dawn light, I groaned at the sight of the red signal bar flashing on the screen.

  “What is wrong with this place?” I hissed. “It’s like it’s shut off from the rest of the world.”

  I desperately wanted to call Sergeant Phillips and tell him what had happened to me and what I’d seen. Whether he would believe me or not, I didn’t know. But I needed to let him know that not all was well in the sleepy town of The Ragged Cove.

  The town seemed to exist in its own little universe. None of the telephones worked, the police radios didn’t seem to transmit – even my car radio didn’t want to pick up a signal. Realising that I hadn’t actually listened to any music since my radio went dead in my car two days ago, I pulled my iPod from my case and took it with me into the bathroom.

  Easing myself down into the water, I stretched out. Closing my eyes, I popped the earphones into my ears and turned on the iPod. Rihanna started to sing ‘Only girl in the World’, I did feel like the only girl in the world – the world I now found myself trapped in.

  Closing my eyes, I turned the volume up and rested my head against the back of the bath. Over and over again the memories of what had happened the night before kept playing out in my mind. Could those murders have been committed by vampires? But weren’t they just in movi
es and books? If I hadn’t been attacked by one, then I would have said yes, but now I wasn’t so sure. Was the boy Henry Blake killed by them? But that sort of thing just didn’t happen. Like my father had been, I was only interested in facts. But I could remember him telling me that once you had studied all the evidence and had dismissed all the theories and rumours, whatever you were left with, however unlikely, was the truth.

  Okay, so let’s just say that the murders and disappearances were the work of vampires – who were they? Did they live among the town’s folk by day and kill by night? Were they all gathered together in some secret location? And how many were there?

  With so many questions racing around my mind, my head began to hurt all over again. But there was one question that just wouldn’t go away: Where had Luke disappeared to last night? Where had he been when I’d needed him?

  Climbing from the bath, I toweled myself dry and brushed my teeth. Pulling on a pair of jeans, T-shirt, and jumper, I tied my hair into a ponytail, and checked out the cuts and bruises on my face in the bathroom mirror. I had a green-blue bump on my temple, my top lip was spilt and I had a graze just beneath my chin. What with the gash on my wrist, I’d never had so many cuts and bruises in such a short space of time.

  With my stomach aching for food, I decided to try out Roland’s bacon and eggs. Toast this morning just wouldn’t be enough. Opening the door to my room, I found another envelope tacked to it. As before, ‘Kiera’ had been scrawled across the front. Pulling it free, I opened it to find another tiny silver crucifix. Looking at the envelope, I could see that it had been left in the last couple of minutes or so. Yanking the door closed behind me, I ran down the stairs, through the lobby, and out into the road. I looked left, and then right but the road in both directions was deserted. Although I knew he had left the envelope only moments before I’d discovered it, what I didn’t know, was how he knew I needed another crucifix.

  Chapter Nine

  Taking a seat at one of the tables in the small dining area of the Inn, the old woman made her way around the nests of tables and chairs.

  “Looks like you’ve been in a fight,” she said, eyeing the cuts and bruises on my face.

  “I’m okay,” I said, forcing a smile.

  “It ain’t right,” she said, pouring me a mug of coffee.

  “What isn’t?” I asked.

  “A pretty girl like you being a cop ‘an all.”

  “How’s that?” I asked, kind of flattered by her remark.

  Then looking over her shoulder as if being spied on, she turned to me and said, “If you’re not careful, you’ll end up dead…or worse.”

  “What could be worse than being dead?” I asked her, sipping the coffee.

  “One of the living-dead,” she whispered, and her voice sounded dry and rasping.

  Looking into her grey-cloudy eyes, I was just about to ask her to tell me more, when Roland appeared in the doorway that led from the dining area and into the kitchen.

  “Mother!” he hollered, and the old woman seemed to flinch at the sound of his voice. “How many times have I told you not to go upsetting the guests with your stupid stories?”

  Before turning to face her son, the old woman slipped her hand into her apron, removed something, and gave it to me. Then winking, she said, ”That’s on the house.” Before I had a chance to say anything, she had shuffled away. Uncurling my fingers, I could see that she had slipped me one of the tiny bottles of holy water that I’d seen the previous day.

  Hiding it beneath the table, I watched Roland come towards me. His beefy face looked hot and tired. “I’m sorry about that,” he blustered. “Mother doesn’t know when to stop talking.”

  “It’s okay,” I assured him.

  “What can I fix you up with?” he asked, wiping his greasy hands on his white apron. Although I felt a little sickened by the sight of his lack of hygiene, my stomach continued to rumble.

  “Bacon and eggs would be good,” I told him.

  “Bacon and eggs it is,” he smiled, turning away.

  As he wobbled back across the diner, I called after him and said, “I don’t suppose you’ve seen a guy hanging around here this morning?”

  Turning to face me, Roland said, “I don’t think so. What did he look like?”

  “I don’t really know,” I told him. “He was wearing a hoodie so it was kind of hard to see his face.”

  “Haven’t seen anyone like that,” he said. “What did he do?”

  Taking the envelope from my pocket, I held it up and said, “He left this tacked to my door about five minutes ago.”

  “How do you know it was in the last five minutes? It could’ve been left at anytime.” he said.

  “The seal is still damp from where he licked it,” I told him.

  “Oh,” said the fat little man, and shrugged his shoulders.

  “Don’t suppose you have any CCTV do you?” I asked.

  “CC what?” he asked.

  “Never mind,” I told him and drank my coffee.

  Despite Roland’s greasy hands and apron, the bacon and eggs were wonderful. The bacon was crispy and the scrambled eggs were light and fluffy. After breakfast, I wrapped up warm and drove my car into town. I wanted to get a better feel of my surroundings and pop into the police station to speak with Sergeant Murphy about what had happened the previous night.

  The day was bitterly cold, but the rain had stopped at last. The sky looked like a layer of bruised skin, as dark purple clouds covered the sun. Turning on the car’s heater, I warmed myself as I navigated the narrow, winding roads. As I reached town, I couldn’t help but notice that the streets and shops were pretty much deserted. I only passed a handful of people, their heads down, as if too scared to make eye contact with anyone. Parking my car in front of a small Post Office, I walked the length of the small high street towards the police station. There was a tea shop, and a couple of old people gathered around a table out of the cold. I passed a shop that sold walking and hiking equipment, but a CLOSED sign hung in the window and the lights were out. There was a fishmonger, butchers, and green-grocers, but none of them seemed very busy, and again I wondered how these little shops made any money.

  Turning off the main high street, I made my way up the small cobbled side road towards the police station. Reaching it, I pushed against the door and was surprised to find that it was locked. Standing on tiptoe, I peered through the small front window. The station was in darkness. Biting my lower lip, I wondered why the station wasn’t open. Didn’t they have a dayshift on duty?

  “You won’t find anyone on duty at this time of day,” someone said from behind me.

  Spinning round, I found an elderly gentleman walking his dog. The black-coloured Labrador was taking a leak up a nearby lamppost.

  “What did you say?” I asked the man.

  “They only seem to work at night,” the man said. He looked as if he were in his mid-sixties. He was on the scrawny side, with a wrinkled face and short, white beard. His eyes were a piercing blue. On his head he wore a flat cap, and in his hand he carried a walker’s cane, which had a distinctive silver top. He wore a green wax coat, tweed trousers, and a worn pair of hiking boots. Without even knowing that I was doing it, I could tell he was a heavy smoker, he liked a good drink, and he wore glasses to read. At some time in his life, he had been a military man and had served in the parachute regiment. He was returning from a walk along the beach, not the woods, and he was going to have sausages for his dinner, some of which he would probably share with his dog – not with his wife – she was dead and had died recently.

  “Don’t you know it’s rude to stare?” the elderly gentleman asked me.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, but I couldn’t help notice the dark brown nicotine stains on the first two fingers of his right hand, the deep red capillary veins on his cheeks, the pinch marks on either side of the bridge of his nose left by his glasses, the winged crest of the parachute regiment pin attached to the lapel of his jacket, the sand cover
ing the tips of his boots, cane and the paws of his dog, the pack of sausages protruding from his coat pocket and the black armband strapped around his left forearm. Sometimes I wished I didn’t have to see all these things. Why couldn’t I just look at someone like any ordinary person would? My father called it a ‘gift’ but I often thought of it as a curse. Sometimes my head felt like it was going to burst with all the information that my eyes absorbed.

  “Like I said young lady, you won’t find any police on duty at this time of day,” the old man said. “If you want to report a crime, come back then.”

  “Okay, thanks,” I said.

  “Visiting are you?” he asked, and eyed me with suspicion. “You’re not a reporter, are you?”

  “Why would I be a reporter?” I said, feeling bemused.

  “Come to spread lies about what’s been going on in the town?” he said.

  “‘What’s been going on?” I asked.

  “Well if you don’t know, then let’s keep it like that,” he said, and whistled for his dog to catch up with him. “What you don’t know can’t hurt ya.”

  He whistled again, but his dog seemed reluctant to come towards us. ”C’mon you daft thing!” the man spat.

  The dog cowered by the lamppost and made a whining noise in the back of its throat. “Come here I’m telling ya!” the man ordered his dog. But again it whined, like it was scared of something.

  “What’s got into ya?” he asked, walking back towards the animal.

  Taking hold of the dog by its collar, he dragged it towards the police station. As they got near, the dog began to bark and howl. I watched the man struggle with his pet, as it dug its claws into the street, not wanting to come too close to the police station.

  “Stop messing about, you stupid thing,” the old man shouted and slapped the dog’s hind quarters. Again, the dog howled as it was dragged nearer to the station. Then, as the old man succeeded in drawing the dog level with me, it started to snarl. Its lips rolled back from its teeth in anger – or was it fear? Looking back at the empty building, I could only wonder what had upset the animal so much.