Dark Corner Page 33

  David picked out the column against which his father had leaned when he took the photograph. In spite of everything he'd learned since he'd found the picture in the living room, he wasn't much closer to understanding his father. He wondered whether it mattered anymore.

  The front door of the mansion was like the entrance to a vault.

  "Here goes nothing," Mac said. He twisted the doorknob.

  The door creaked open, like a parody of every haunted house that had ever existed in a movie. A wall of blackness greeted them.

  They turned on their flashlights and stepped inside.

  They were at the mouth of a long hallway. A spiral staircase was on the right, the ornate wooden railing dressed in cobwebs. On the left, an arched doorway led into a sitting room full of old upholstered furniture. Melted white candles were spaced throughout the hallway and the rooms.

  The stench of rotted wood and mildew clotted the air. Underneath those odors, David detected, faintly, the coppery scent of blood.

  His stomach tightened.

  "Hey, there's a tape player up here" Mac indicated a device sitting on a wooden table in the hallway. He shone his flashlight over it; it was a small cassette recorder housed in black casing. "There's a note on here. It says, `Play Me.' "

  "Go ahead," David said.

  Mac pressed the Play button. David and the others crowded closer.

  Static crackled from the speaker. Then came the crisp, slightly accented voice of Kyle, the vampire.

  "Good evening, David Hunter and friends! My father and I had foreseen that it would not be long before you and your crew of intrepid adventurers made an expedition to our temporary residence. We had grown tired of the visits by your meddlesome kin, and have therefore found another sanctuary.

  "Ah, David Hunter my dear mother has built a fence around you. But my father grows more powerful with each passing hour, and when he makes himself known to the world, tonight, not even my ancient mother will be able to protect you from my father's fury. Nor my fury, I might add. Your ancestor shut my father away from me for all of my life, and for that, you are responsible and bear the burden of your ancestor's trespass against us. We promise you a fate worse than death.

  "And Nia James-how endearing that you are standing by your man. But I've decided to seek a vampire bride, and you would be a fine choice. Consider it carefully, my ladyor follow your doomed man to his demise.

  "Chief Van Jackson-finally shaken off the crippling fear, have you? I reached inside your puny brain before and shaped it as a sculptor manipulates clay. To do so again would be simple. But that would be too gentle a punishment for you. We have something better in mind. Make provisions for your son, we advise.

  "To all of you: you will not defeat us. My father lived as a mighty warrior in Africa during his time as a man, and since then, his prowess in battle has advanced to greater heights than your mortal minds can fathom. Your wisest course of action would be for you to leave this town, but that would provide only a temporary respite, I must caution. Mason's Corner is only the beginning for us, the launch pad of a bold mission that will carry us around the world.

  "By the way, before you leave the premises, please visit the cellar. In our absence, one of your friends would enjoy the pleasure of your company.

  "We eagerly anticipate meeting you tonight.

  "Until then, adieu."

  Trembling, David shut off the cassette recorder. Jackson and Nia looked furious. The faces of the others were taut with resolve.

  "To the basement," David said.

  Chapter 18

  Jahlil hated being cooped up at the police station.

  Yeah, Dad wanted to keep him safe and away from the dangerous action that might go down tonight, but Jahlil wasn't some little kid. He wasn't helpless. He knew how to use guns, and he knew what these vampires were all about. He should be out in the streets, not penned up in here with these other people who didn't know what the hell was going on. These people were glad that they were on the team that would only get called in for backup. Cowards.

  He had to get away from them. He and Poke were in the tiny room in the back of the station. The room was full of dusty files and papers. Poke was playing a Gameboy. Jahlil was flipping through one of Deputy Dudu's tabloids. Dudu had been a goofy dude, but he'd wanted to do the right thing. Jahlil missed him.

  In the main room out front, Jahlil heard the team members talking on the phone and speculating amongst themselves about what might happen that night. Boring, pointless conversation. Jahlil needed to be taking action.

  "Hey, man," Jahlil said to Poke. "We should break out of here"

  "For what? I kinda like chillin' here. I don't want to be in the middle of no shit, know what I'm saying?"

  "I want to be in the streets doing something, not laying up in here like a coward. You know how to use a gun, man. Your dad used to take you hunting."

  Poke shrugged. "That was a long time ago. And it don't matter, 'cause I don't wanna get bit by some motherfucking vampire mutt like T-Bone did."

  "Don't punk out on me, Poke. I need you to have my back on this. We gotta go out there and do some damage. Get some revenge for what they did to T-Bone"

  Poke sighed. "Why you gotta be a hero? T-Bone's one of them now; he might be coming after us."

  "Then we owe it to him to put him out of his misery," Jahlil said. He stood and threw the magazine on the floor. "I'm rolling out, with or without you"

  Poke looked as though he wanted to hurl his Gameboy against the wall. "Dammit, J, you a crazy motherfucker, you know that? You been watching too many movies. You gonna get us both killed."

  Jahlil shrugged and walked out of the room.

  Behind him, he heard Poke's chair scrape against the floor.

  He smiled to himself. Poke could complain all he wanted, but there was no way he would abandon Jahlil. They were like brothers.

  Out in the office, the patrol team sat around talking, looking nervous.

  Jahlil walked to his father's desk like he owned the place and pulled open a drawer. He fished out a set of keys.

  "Hey, where you going, little man?" one of the men said. Jahlil recognized the guy from the ball courts. His name was Bobby. He had a long, dripping Jheri curl, a gold tooth, and always wore faded basketball jerseys.

  "Me and my boy got some business to handle." Jahlil walked toward the door, where Poke waited.

  "Hold on, the chief said you were supposed to stay here with us," Bobby said. "I'm telling."

  "Don't be a punk" Jahlil pushed open the door. "Later, people."

  Dad had parked his pickup in the corner of the parking lot. Jahlil unlocked the doors and climbed in, and Poke rode shotgun.

  The engine revved up with a roar. Although Jahlil did not have a driver's license, he had learned how to drive when he was twelve years old. He grasped the manual gearshift with confidence.

  "Where we going?" Poke said.

  "We're gonna drop by my crib to pick up some guns, and make some of those Molotov cocktails," Jahlil said. "Then, we're going vampire hunting."

  The door to the basement awaited them.

  David could only imagine what they would find down there. Vampires? Corpses? Demon dogs? There was no way to tell. The house was as silent as a morgue.

  "Why are we going down there?" Ben whispered. "We know the head vampires are gone, and they're the ones we want. I'm telling you, we're walking into a trap"

  "Could be a citizen down there, sick," Jackson said. "We're the law in this town, y'all. We've go to do our duty to protect and serve"

  "The guy on the recording said a friend of ours was waiting for us in the cellar," Tanya said. "It has to be someone that we know."

  "Speculating isn't gonna do us any good," Mac said. "We've got to charge down there and take control. Act like soldiers." He grasped the doorknob.

  "Be careful with old Suzie, Mac," David said. "We don't want to set the house on fire. Not with us in here"

  Mac grunted by way of reply. H
e pulled open the door.

  A swamp of darkness lay below. A horrible stench roiled from the room, too. When he was a kid, David had once discovered a dead squirrel that had gotten snared in an attic crevice, and this stink was similar, only stronger. He tried to keep from gagging, but a couple other team members coughed, and Ben cursed softly.

  Mac slid his hand across the wall inside the doorway. He flipped a switch, but no light came on.

  "Gimme some light, guys," Mac said. "Get those weapons ready, people. It's show time."

  They brandished their guns. Ben shone his flashlight over Mac's shoulder, exposing concrete walls festooned with cobwebs, and a narrow flight of wooden steps.

  Mac began to descend the stairs, the tip of the flamethrower emitting a faint glow. The steps creaked under his weight.

  In tight formation, Ben followed Mac; then Tanya, David, Nia, Bertha, and Jackson. David felt Nia's hot breath on the back of his neck, and the sensation was absurdly arousing. This was a hell of a time to be thinking about sex-

  "Holy shit," Mac said. He was at the bottom of the staircase. "Chief, you ain't gonna like this."

  The rest of them joined Mac below. And saw what he meant.

  On the other side of the basement, revealed in the flashlights, Deputy Ray Dudu hung from a ceiling pipe-hung from his ankles. His eyes were closed. His gangly arms were crossed over his chest. He looked like a grotesque human bat.

  He still wore his police uniform. The shirt was stained with blood.

  Id rather die than become something like that, David thought. He felt as if he were viewing a spectacle at a carnival freak show.

  Suspended from the pipe, Dudu swung back and forth, slowly, as if rocked by a gentle breeze.

  "What wrong with him?" Ben said.

  "He's a vampire," Jackson said. He stepped forward. "Pearl said he was dead. I know what she meant now. He ain't human no more. Old Mac, do it."

  Mac wiped sweat from his brow. "Chief, he kinda looks like a man. I don't know about this."

  Dudu's eyes opened.

  Someone screamed.

  The creature who had once been Ray Dudu launched forward, flying across the room and into their midst. The team scattered; David grabbed Nia's arm and pulled her away from the melee. Flashlights clattered against the floor, light beams swerving crazily around the room. As David fumbled with his gun, a man screamed, and in a strobe of light he saw the vampire crushing Ben in a bear hug. The vampire savagely bit into the man's neck.

  "Mac, hit him with the flamethrower!" David said.

  "Damn thing won't light up!" Mac said. David heard a frantic clicking sound.

  Come on, come on, come on, David thought. He had pressed himself against the cold wall. He gripped Nia's arm tightly. She was panting, too.

  Another shriek a woman. David raised the flashlight, moved it around, and captured the vampire in the act of tearing into Bertha's jugular vein.

  "Someone, shoot him!" David said. He raised his gun.

  But Jackson was first. Across the cellar, he fired his .357. The bullet hit the fiend in the chest. The vampire stepped backward, stumbled, but did not fall.

  "How could you shoot a fellow officer?" the vampire said. Its voice was raspy. It bared its fangs. "I never liked you, Chief Jackass"

  Jackson nailed the vampire with another bullet, this one in the head. It staggered against the wall, but it would not go down. Rage and inhuman hunger blazed in its reddened eyes.

  "Ready, get back!" Mac shouted. He aimed the flamethrower at the vampire. A jet of flames spat out of the weapon with a whoosh!

  The blast of heat sizzled the sweat on David's face.

  Engulfed in fire, the creature screeched. It dropped to the floor and rolled, as though to extinguish the flames.

  "Hit him again, Mac," Jackson said.

  Mac punished the vampire with another stream of fire.

  The flames consumed the monster as though it were made of dry rags. Howling, flailing its limbs, the vampire struggled, but could not defeat the ravenous fire.

  Finally, the creature lay still and quiet. Rancid gray smoke steamed from the corpse.

  David prodded the corpse with his foot. The vampire did not move.

  He looked around. Ben and Bertha lay on the floor, having collapsed after being bitten. Jackson, Mac, Tanya, and Nia appeared as if they had crawled through hell and back.

  They had only just begun. It was going to get much worse before the night was over.

  "Well, team," David said. "We've killed our first vampire."

  Junior regretted that he had been assigned to the hospital.

  He'd gotten there on time, at seven-fifteen. The patrol team had a desk and a few chairs stationed on the north wing of the medical center, in front of a set of heavy doors. A handwritten sign taped to the doors read, "Quarantine Area: Authorized Personnel Only!" Past the doors, the half-dozen or so rooms were full of sick people. (He could not think of them as people who had been bitten by vampiric creatures; he preferred to think of them as being sick, it was easier to get his mind around it.)

  To get into the quarantine section, you had to be either a member of the patrol team or a medical person-or be sick. Curious, Junior had used his team member status to get inside, to look around for a minute. He peeked inside the dimly lit rooms.

  Many of the people that lay on the beds, comatose, were folks that he had done work for in the past. Good people, all of them. It disturbed him. But nothing disturbed him as much as seeing Doc Bennett in a bed, too.

  Junior stepped inside Doc's room. Mrs. Bennett sat at his beside. She looked tired.

  A woman lay in a bed on the other side of the room, asleep. Junior didn't know who she was.

  "Hi, Junior," Mrs. Bennett said, in a weary voice.

  "Hi" He stood just inside the doorway; unconsciously, he touched the pendant that lay on his chest, underneath his shirt. "How long's Doc Bennett been sick?"

  "Since yesterday."

  "Oh" Junior lowered his head. "I hope he gets better real soon"

  "We all do" She sighed. "This is a quarantine area, sugar. I can be here because I'm a nurse, but are you supposed to be back here? I wouldn't want anything to happen to you, too"

  "I'm on the patrol team, ma'am," he said. "I was just checking on people."

  "You're a brave man, Junior. I'm praying for all of you"

  Junior nodded. He didn't know what to say. He thought of saying that it was partly his fault that Doc Bennett had gotten sick he was the one who had told Doc about the cave in the first place-but Mrs. Bennett already looked so sad that he didn't want to say anything that would make her feel worse.

  "Well ... let me know if you need somethin'," Junior said.

  "It's going to be night soon," Mrs. Bennett said. She glanced out the window. Darkness was coming. "You be careful, sugar, okay?"

  "Yes, ma'am, I sure will."

  He shuffled back to his post. He felt kinda sick himself, but his pain was due to heartache. He wished he had been assigned to go somewhere else. Here, misery hung heavy in the air, as powerful as the antiseptic smell that characterized all hospitals.

  He sat on a chair next to his team members, and whittled away the time chatting with them. Every now and then, Dr. Green and his assistants would push ill folks toward the doors, on stretchers, and then Junior's team would put the sick individual's name on a list. Within an hour, they had checked in eight people, and Junior knew every one of them. But when the ninth person was brought in, he jumped up so suddenly that his chair crashed against the floor.

  It was Vicky Queen.

  He knew she had been ill, and he'd figured that she was sick with the same thing as everyone else, but seeing her rolled in on a stretcher-it did something to him. He stood in front of the doors, blocking the medical assistant's route to quarantine.

  "Miss Queen?" he said. "That can't be you."

  The woman tucked under the white sheet was asleep. It looked like Vicky, but then it didn't. She didn't have
any makeup on, but Junior had always thought she was so pretty she didn't need makeup anyway. This woman had Vicky's fine features, but she was drab and limp, like a wax dummy or something. No, not like a wax dummy. Like someone lying in a coffin.

  He gripped the edges of the gurney in his big, callused hands.

  "Excuse me, please," the medical assistant said. "I need to get this young lady into quarantine."

  "Her name's Vicky Queen," Junior said.

  "Are you a relative of the patient?"

  "Huh?"

  The assistant sighed. "Are you related to Vicky Queen?"

  "No, umm, I'm just a friend. I've known her my whole life."

  "I see. Will you sign her in for me, please?"

  "Okay, sure."

  The assistant rolled her eyes, like she was annoyed at Junior or something. He didn't get it, but sometimes people did things that baffled him.

  "What room is available?" the assistant said. "I have to know where to take her."

  Junior stammered. One of his team members stepped forward, put Vicky's name on the list, and said she could go in room 113.

  Vicky Queen was swept away through the swinging doors. Junior watched her being taken into a room near the end of the hallway.

  He would make sure that he kept an eye on her. She had always been so nice to him. He would hate for something bad to happen to her. He would do whatever it took to protect her.

  Darkness embraced the world.

  The arrival of night thrilled Kyle. This one would forever hold a valued place in his memory: the night that he and his father stood side-by-side and launched a war against humankind.

  The war was long overdue. For too long, vampires such as Mother had lived in secret, preying upon humans as if they were lowly parasites, like minuscule fish clinging to the belly of a great whale. The truth, as his father had forced him to realize, was that vampires were the superior race, and it was time for them to assume their rightful, dominant position in the world's hierarchy of species.

  When Kyle had lived with Mother, he had often pondered such ideas, but Mother, predictably, would turn his thoughts away from fantasies of conquest. Mother was too wealthy, too old, and too passive to care about elevating their race. But Diallo hungered for blood and dominion, and he had stoked the same flames in Kyle, too.