Dark Corner Page 47

  An invisible force snatched it away from him and threw it against the wall. Glass shattered. The light winked out.

  Above him, an unearthly, blood-red glow blazed into life, like a crimson strobe light.

  The strange luminescence brightened most of the vast room, which seemed to be the size of a high school gym.

  Because of the ghostly light, the walls, floor, and ceiling appeared to be painted with blood.

  Diallo stood in the middle of the chamber, face tilted upward, arms outspread. Basking in the crimson rays.

  As David regarded the vampire, he questioned their sanity for ever thinking that they could defeat this monster. He was a giant whose powers defied explanation. What chance did they have against him?

  Nia and Jahlil slowly got to their feet. They wore the same awestruck expression that David was certain was on his face, too.

  Diallo lowered his head and glowered at them.

  "All of you are brave," Diallo said. His deep, melodic voice reverberated through the room. "You have had assis tance from Lisha, my former companion, as well. But that is not enough to save you"

  Jahlil was the first to shake off the temporary paralysis that pinched the three of them, and attack. He jerked up his shotgun, aimed, and fired.

  The boom of the gunshot echoed harshly.

  Diallo took the hit in the chest. The giant rocked backward slightly, but he did not fall. A single shot would not be nearly enough to destroy him.

  David did not plan to wait for Diallo to make the next move. Raising the .38, he squeezed off one, two, three shots.

  Miraculously, each round hit the target, plowing into Diallo's chest.

  In his peripheral vision, David spied Nia. She was shooting at Diallo. Jahlil had pumped the shotgun and begun to fire again, too.

  The vampire quaked under the barrage of gunfire. Staggering, he brought up his arms to shield himself. He growled like a grizzly bear snared in a trap.

  We're going to beat him, David thought, with a burst of giddy optimism. It's not going to be as hard as we thought...

  Diallo vanished. One second, he cowered under the onslaught of bullets. The next instant, he was gone.

  Acrid smoke, drifting from their hot firearms, curled through the air.

  The blood-red orb that hovered above them continued to glow, like a monstrous heart.

  We didn't kill him, David thought. Anxiety gnawed at his gut. He should have known better than to think finishing Diallo would be so easy.

  "Where is he?" Jahlil said. "He's still here, somewhere, I can feel it."

  Rich laughter thundered over them.

  David spun around, searching. But he did not see Diallo. The laughter filled the room, as though rolling from surround-sound speakers hidden inside the walls.

  "He's playing with us," Nia said. "We didn't hurt the bastard at all."

  "He's not invincible," David said, desperately. He looked at Nia and Jahlil, their frightened faces washed in crimson light. If he could make them believe that they could win, maybe he could believe it, too. "Listen, we can kill him-"

  In a dark flash, Diallo reappeared in front of Nia and Jahlil. He captured each of them in his gigantic hands, his fingers closing over their throats.

  They screamed.

  David whipped around the gun, but he was too slow to prevent what happened.

  With the speed of a viper, Diallo bit each of them in the neck.

  "No!" David fired. He struck Diallo's shoulder.

  Diallo stumbled, then tossed Nia and Jahlil to the floor as if they were rag dummies.

  Diallo smiled malevolently. "Sweet Nia had been bitten by one of my hounds, but the blood requires hours to work when delivered from them. When I deliver the bite myself, the life force travels rapidly, Hunter. Both the boy and the woman belong to me now."

  Moaning, Nia and Jahlil writhed on the ground.

  "No," David said. "It's not going to end like this."

  He attempted to shoot the vampire again. Diallo knocked the weapon out of his hands. He seized David by the front of his shirt.

  David punched him, but his fists were so useless against the monster that he might as well have been slugging an oak tree.

  Diallo lifted him high in the air. The vampire's black eyes, laminated with red light, were bottomless pools of oblivion.

  Terror made David so dizzy he almost passed out. He clenched his fists, digging his nails into his palms, and the sharp pain was enough to keep him focused.

  The stench of death poured from Diallo's mouth, like flames from the lips of a dragon.

  "Who are you to prevent the fulfillment of my destiny?" Diallo said. "You are the descendent of a courageous man, but he did not destroy me, and neither will you. Your family's legacy ends here, Hunter"

  Diallo hurled David across the room. David cracked against the stone wall, and heard something in his body snap. Crying out, he slid to the floor.

  It was his left arm. The bones were shattered.

  Diallo bellowed victoriously.

  Against the far wall, Jahlil and Nia were curled in a fetal position. Whimpering, they rolled back and forth, slowly, suffering the terrible metamorphosis to vampirism.

  It's over, David thought, trembling in pain and anger. He tasted blood. He'd probably lost a tooth.

  He spotted the duffel bag on the ground, only a few feet away. It contained explosives that they hadn't used. But what did it matter anymore? They had lost. Nia and Jahlil would become creatures of the night, and he was going to die.

  Scalding tears coursed down his cheeks.

  Fangs bared, Diallo strolled toward him, to finish him off.

  It's over. Everything we did, it was all for nothing. I wasn't called here to finish an important duty, I was called here to die.

  Closing in on him, Diallo hissed.

  Suddenly, the red glow in the chamber brightened to a brilliant white.

  Diallo stopped, grunting in confusion. He turned to face the light.

  David, though he was blasted with agony, looked, too.

  It was an apparition of a black woman. Ethereally beautiful, clothed in shimmering ivory garments, she floated beneath the orb of white light, like an angel.

  David did not recognize the woman, but Diallo was stunned.

  The vampire shuffled closer to the vision, and then dropped to his knees. In a voice full of reverence and awe, he uttered the name, "Mariama."

  He had forgotten about David. It was the only opportunity David needed.

  David log-rolled across the floor, forcing himself to endure the pain in his crushed arm. He snagged the duffel bag with his good hand, ripped down the zipper.

  Diallo did not notice him. The vampire had his back to David as he bowed before the mysterious specter. He murmured words that David could not hear.

  David dug inside the sack. He grasped a Molotov cocktail fashioned from a whiskey bottle.

  He lit the cloth fuse with a cigarette lighter, and, praying that his aim would be true, flung the bottle at Diallo.

  The bomb struck Diallo and exploded, and the vampire was suddenly on fire.

  Mariama ...

  The sight of Mariama brought Diallo to his knees. He had waited so long to see her again, had long nurtured a naive hope that he would be granted another chance to speak to her, and here she was, as the woman seer had foretold.

  And how beautiful she was! She was like a goddess. Her luminescent beauty rendered him nearly speechless. Emotion lodged in his throat like a hot coal, and he found it difficult to even draw breath.

  "Mariama," Diallo said, when he could at last speak clearly. "It's been so, so long."

  Love shone in her angelic eyes. Yet sadness, too.

  Why are you doing this, my love? she asked him. You've caused so much pain since we have been apart. I remembered you as a kind, gentle man.

  "But I am not a man anymore," he said. "I am greater than man. Man is responsible for my losing you. I will never forgive men for that transgression." />
  But you have no peace, Diallo. Your soul is like a turbulent sea.

  He shook his head. "So it is, and so it will be, until my mission is done"

  Please, come to me, my husband. Come into my arms and find peace.

  Mariama's voice was like the sweetest honey, and her words conjured the dreams that he had been frightened to believe could ever come true. Dreams of a life of peace. Comfort. And a return to their long-lost home.

  No, you romantic fool, he thought. You can never go home again. Your home has been destroyed. By men. Destroy them, drench the world in their vile blood.

  But Mariama smiled at him, and her pure, glorious smile was like a promise of peace and everlasting happiness.

  Did he dare to believe that his dreams could come true?

  As he pondered the dilemma, teeth of fire tore into him.

  Diallo howled. Mariama's body flickered, like a candle flame about to die.

  No. He could not lose her. Not again. No.

  In spite of the ravenous fire, he rushed toward Mariama, arms spread wide, to embrace her before he lost her again. He could not bear to lose her again. It would kill him.

  But Mariama vanished.

  Burning, wailing in anguish, Diallo crashed into the wall.

  The fire devoured him, as he had devoured the lives of so many during his century-spanning rampage.

  All for nothing. What I thought was my destiny to cleanse the world was only the demented mission of the mad.

  Diallo gave up life, at last, and surrendered his soul to whatever fate awaited him in the Beyond.

  The fire consumed the vampire.

  As the creature died, the globe of bright light slowly faded, too.

  Numb with pain, weary, David trudged to where Nia and Jahlil lay curled on the floor.

  He was afraid of what he would find. Was it too late to save them?

  Nia coughed. Her eyes opened, and they were honeybrown and blessedly normal.

  "You're alive," he said. "And human"

  "Better believe it, baby," she said. Her voice was raspy. "I was almost a goner, but then you did ... something."

  "Yeah," David said. He might never learn the identity of the ghost, and why seeing it had mesmerized Diallo. "Someone ... did something. We're safe now."

  Coughing, Jahlil sat up. "Hey, can we get out of here now? I'm serious, I can't take it down here anymore"

  "I couldn't think of a better idea," David said. "Let's go"

  Climbing the ladder out of the hideaway was a challenge for David, who had the use of only one arm. Nia wrapped her arm around him and assisted him. It was a tiring climb, but they had accomplished harder tasks lately.

  King awaited them in the vestibule. The dog pounced on them ecstatically, wagging his tail.

  "Easy, boy," David said. "Your daddy's got a bad arm here"

  Nia and Jahlil pushed open the mausoleum doors. Sunlight flooded the room. They shuffled outside.

  "Fresh air never tasted so good," Jahlil said.

  A few feet away from the entrance, three mounds of ashes covered the ground. David instantly recognized them as the remains of the vampiric hounds.

  "So it's true," Nia said. "Everyone that Diallo had infected with his life force ... they're gone now."

  "Yes," David said. "Everyone"

  The three of them were silent. Then they came into one another's arms, and wept.

  They walked to the Pathfinder. The vehicle had been undisturbed in their absence.

  The raven stood in the same spot on the monument, as if it had not budged once while they were away.

  "Thank you, Lisha," David said. "For everything."

  The bird held his gaze for a beat. Then it uttered a shrill cry, leapt into the air, and soared away.

  A breeze wafted through the cemetery. Golden sunlight warmed the morning.

  David spotted a group of about a dozen people walking on the other side of the street. They looked as if they were surveying the town. A man appeared to be leading the crowd.

  "That's Reverend Brown," David said.

  "Sure is," Jahlil said. "Guess they were safe at the church last night."

  The reverend waved at them. David lifted his good arm and waved back.

  A service vehicle for a utility company rolled past, engine grumbling.

  "Looks like people are here to clean up and put things back to normal," David said.

  "You're right, they're here to clean up," Nia said. "But nothing will ever be normal in Dark Corner again."

  In the End

  "hree weeks later, David, Nia, and Jahlil left Atlanta, where i they had been staying in David's home, and returned to Dark Corner. They went to retrieve their belongings. And to pay their respects to the lost.

  "The Lost" was how the news media had taken to describing the town residents who had mysteriously vanished over Labor Day weekend. Previously, Mason's Corner had been noteworthy only as the hometown of its famous native son, Richard Hunter. But the town gained a sudden, unwelcome notoriety when news of the "displaced" residents leaked out. Those who continued to live in Mason's Corner refused to discuss with the media what had happened, stating only that a terrible storm had come and wreaked havoc on their quiet hometown. They claimed that they did not know where "The Lost" had gone, and shut their doors when pressed to answer further questions.

  David had followed the media coverage from Atlanta. After three weeks, when the media's interest in the taciturn residents waned and the news crews moved on to fresher stories elsewhere, he told Nia and Jahlil that it was time for them to go back.

  Neither of them was surprised. They understood that they had unresolved business to handle there.

  They drove back on an overcast Saturday. Nia drove, as David's arm was still healing. Throughout most of the drive, they were in good spirits, enjoying the familylike camaraderie they had developed. When they drew within ten miles of Mason's Corner, however, they grew quiet. When they entered the city limits, the only sound to be heard within the SUV was the music playing on the stereo.

  This place looks a lot like it did when I first came here, David thought. Main Street had been cleaned up, the broken windows replaced. Cars and trucks drove back and forth along the road. People walked in and out of shops.

  But there were differences, and they went beyond the orange-red autumn leaves. Everyone appeared to be in a hurry, as if afraid to meander outdoors for too long. Many of the storefronts had bars across the windows. And the residents who took note of them driving through town regarded them not with curiosity, but with quick, anxious glances.

  "I could never live here again," Nia said in a brittle voice.

  "Yeah," Jahlil mumbled. "Me neither."

  Perched on the hill on the east side of the city, Jubilee gazed down on them, an ineradicable scar.

  David's chest tightened. He looked away from the house.

  They reached the park. The three of them, and King, climbed out.

  With his left arm encased in a heavy cast, David grasped Nia's fingers with his right hand as they strolled along the grass. They had first met here; he would never forget that day. As he looked into her eyes, he knew she was thinking the same thoughts.

  They stopped in a quiet corner of the park. Jahlil set down the potted magnolia sapling that he had been carrying.

  They planted the magnolia there, in the rich soil. Finished, they formed a circle around the young tree. Jahlil had written a poem, entitled "Always," to dedicate the tree to those, friends and strangers alike, who had been lost when darkness had fallen over the town. He recited the bittersweet poem from memory; he had spent many hours preparing for this day.

  By the time Jahlil finished speaking, tears trickled down his face. He lowered his head. David took him into his arms, and held him.

  The next morning, after spending the night at a hotel in Southaven, they rented a U-Haul trailer, hooked it to the rear of the SUV, and went to each of their families' homes, to pick up the items they wanted to bring bac
k to Atlanta. They visited Jahlil's place first, then Nia's. They arrived last at the Hunter family home.

  David was crossing the sidewalk, lugging a suitcase packed with clothes to the trailer, when a champagne Lincoln limousine slid down the street and parked in front of the house.

  Frowning, he placed the luggage on the ground.

  A chauffeur, attired in a formal black suit and a cap, stepped outside the limousine. He nodded at David, strode to the rear passenger door, and pulled it open in a reverential manner, as though he were serving a member of royalty.

  Two figures slipped out of the limo. The first was a tall, lean black man who wore shades, an elegant hat, and a fine dark suit. For a reason that David could not define, the man was familiar-looking.

  But the second person was the stunner: an exquisitely beautiful black woman clothed in a midnight-blue dress and a matching, wide-brimmed hat. She wore a pair of tinted glasses, too.

  After all that he had experienced, David had thought that it would be impossible for him to ever be shocked again, but he felt as though he had closed his hand over a live wire.

  The woman's movements were so smooth that she appeared to glide across the distance between them.

  "It's you," he said, breathlessly.

  The ancient vampire, Lisha, smiled.

  "I received word that you had returned," she said. "I had intended to visit the town, to see it with my own eyes, and what better time to come than when you would be present?"

  His mouth was dry. "I ... I don't know what to say. All I can say is, thank you for helping us. I don't know why you did it, but I'm glad that you did."

  "Diallo was a cancer upon the earth," she said. "He would have consumed this world had I not intervened. In the process, his ill-advised actions would have drawn attention to our kind and brought destruction and misery upon us all. I could never allow such a disaster."

  David nodded. "So you used me to save yourself. What about your son, Kyle?"

  "Kyle had too much of his father in him. He would have become a problem in his own right, in time."