In the Blood (18 page)

I
t seemed a long way back to Nearer To Heaven.

‘Are you sure you’re all right?’ I asked Neil.

‘I’ll live,’ said Neil, then looked as though he wished he hadn’t; as if I had remembered who hadn’t lived. ‘If he’s tried to vampirise Sister Karen, he’ll probably break a tooth,’ he added.

I tried to smile, but couldn’t. ‘Could you try to get through to them again?’

‘I’m trying every few minutes. There’s no response,’ said Neil gently.

‘Shit.’ I shut my eyes, opened them, looked blankly at the harsh green grass out the window. ‘He can’t have killed them all, can he?’

‘No,’ said Neil. ‘It’d be that girl he’s after. What was her name?’

‘Anita,’ I said. ‘She was bigger than he was. Stronger looking. Maybe she’d be able to fend him off.’

‘Anyone can kill anyone if they take them unawares,’ said Neil.

‘Maybe he hasn’t been able to get her alone. The ModPlod’s always with them when they’re working.’

‘Maybe,’ said Neil. ‘Look, you should eat something. We both should.’

‘I can’t eat! Oh, Neil, I can’t even think! I’m too tired! I just want…’ I shook my head. I wanted peace, but in what form I didn’t know.

‘Not long to go now,’ said Neil, looking at the monitor.

The floater eased over a rise and suddenly I saw the sea again, unbelievably massive, spilling over the edges of the horizon. Once again the brightness hit me like a blow. The air was so bright so suddenly most of the colour seemed burnt away. The floater gained speed as it dived over the cliffs and zoomed across the hot air above the sand and waves.

Round a headland, a green carpet topped with a fuzz of trees. Around another, all black rocks and spray, and there was Nearer To Heaven clustered on its hill, the buildings impossibly small, then growing larger as we approached.

As we had the first time, we landed on the gravel outside the main building. This time there was no Sister Tracey to greet us.

Neil unlocked the floater door. We ran outside, through the main door and across the auditorium.

We found them in the dining room where we had sat before. Sister Tracey, Sister Karen, Brother Cydore…there was no sign of Brother Perry or Anita or Tam.

‘Where’s Anita?’ I demanded.

Sister Karen looked up. I wondered suddenly if they had been praying. For the first time I realised there might be some element of sincerity in their beliefs.

Sister Karen didn’t pretend not to understand. ‘She’s gone,’ she said briefly.

‘Gone where? Is she all right?’

‘She’s shocked,’ said Sister Karen quietly. ‘But the wound was superficial. We found her in time.’

‘Then where is she?’

Sister Karen calculated. ‘Home now, I should think. I put her in our floater about three hours ago. It should be returning soon.’

My knees began to tremble. I sat down. Neil grabbed my hand and sat beside me. ‘When did all this happen,’ he demanded.

Sister Karen seemed to calculate the time again. ‘About five hours ago,’ she said.

‘Then where’s Tam?’

‘Tam? I really couldn’t tell you.’

‘You mean you let him go?’

‘Let him go?’ Sister Karen sounded bewildered. ‘I just assumed he ran off after Brother Perry.’ She stopped.

‘Look,’ said Neil. ‘Exactly what happened here?’

Sister Karen glanced at the others. None of them met her eyes. Sister Karen ran her hand through her long hair, messy as a bird’s nest. ‘Tam and Anita were painting the dormitory. Brother Perry…’ she hesitated. ‘Brother Perry went to check on their progress, I believe.’

‘And then?’

‘None of them came in for lunch. I went to fetch them. I found—’ Again she stopped.

‘Go on,’ said Neil.

‘I found the girl covered in blood, and Brother Perry…I’m sorry. I can’t go on.’

‘She was unconscious and he was bending over her?’ asked Neil.

Sister Karen nodded without speaking.

‘Where was Tam?’

‘I don’t know. My first…my first duty was to the girl. I called the others, we carried her inside. Brother Cydore took Brother Perry to his room.’

‘I locked the door,’ said Brother Cydore.

‘There was a cut on Anita’s neck. Not a severe one. It looked…it looked worse than it was. I sealed it up and the bleeding stopped.’

‘What did she say?’

‘She didn’t say anything. Not anything that made sense. She was in shock. I called her mother. Her mother said she’d stay Linked till Anita got home. Anita didn’t…she didn’t wish to stay here.’

‘So you have no idea where Tam has got to?’

‘Tam?’ she asked again. She frowned, as though the idea had just seeped through. ‘You think that boy had something to do with this?’

I looked at Neil, who nodded. ‘Probably,’ I said. ‘I think we need to talk to Brother Perry.’

‘I’ll get him,’ said Sister Tracey. For once, she didn’t even glance at Neil.

We sat there in silence till they returned.

Brother Perry looked flushed, ill, indignant and strangely excited all at once. He pulled a chair out and sat down by Sister Karen and took both her hands in his. ‘It wasn’t my fault,’ he said immediately. ‘It really wasn’t my fault.’

‘How can you possibly say that?’ asked Sister Karen quietly.

‘It wasn’t! It was just a game. He said it was a game!’

‘Who said? Tam?’ I asked.

Brother Perry nodded eagerly. ‘It was only a little cut. Tam said it makes the vaginal walls contract. He said that’s why…why vampires are so sexy. Because people know that. Tam was playing with her and he said I could play too.’

‘She was unconscious, you fool!’ yelled Sister Karen.

‘I didn’t know that.’ Brother Perry was almost whimpering. ‘I thought she was playing too. Tam said she was.’

‘What happened to Tam?’

Brother Perry giggled, and I realised that he was drugged—
Cannabis magnifica microflora
, and maybe something else as well. Probably there’d been a film of unreality between him and today’s events the whole time. ‘He was finished with her. He said, “Where can I find another one?” and I said, “Not Sister Tracey. She doesn’t like to play games. It’s straight in and out with Sister Tracey, and don’t you be too quick about it either.”’

Sister Karen shut her eyes briefly again, then opened them. ‘Where did he go?’ she demanded.

‘To Black Stump. They’ve got some lovely girls over there, I told him. But they’re mean. They won’t play either. It’s not…it’s not sister-like? Is it?’ he demanded vaguely of the room at large.

‘He can’t have gone far yet,’ I said to Neil quickly. ‘He doesn’t have a dikdik remember?’

‘I gave him the comsig to ours,’ said Brother Perry with a glazed uncertain smile. ‘It was the least I could do.’

‘Oh, my Christ,’ said Neil.

We left them in their bright sunny room, with the sea sweeping driftwood from the sand below.

I
t was like the first time we had come here, but it was different too.

The front door was open. This time we didn’t even think to knock or call. I ran down the hallway, my feet thumping clumsily from weariness not quite overcome by adrenaline, Neil at my heels. And then we stopped.

There was blood on the table. Not raspberry cordial this time. Blood smells sweet, I’d discovered, but not like raspberry cordial. There was a smear of blood between the jar of pickles and an upturned mug, bright red, congealing dark towards the edges, and then another, brighter still across a bunch of carrots, and then Perdita’s body lying straight across the table, her hands folded on her chest.

For a moment I thought that her murderer was responsible for the arrangement of her body, just as he was responsible for the wound at her throat and the blood on her bare breasts and her torn dress and the evil smudges on her face. But of course, whoever had found her body would have straightened her, would have closed her eyes after they had made sure that her heartbeat was extinguished.

The rooster crowed out the back and a hen clucked in response. And then I realised it wasn’t a hen at all, but someone sobbing.

I glanced at Neil. He said: ‘Let me go first.’

I nodded, and followed him to the doorway.

It was hard to see at first. The tears half blinded me. I
was shaking too and, besides, the scene outside couldn’t have been real. It was impossible. It couldn’t be.

There was a body hanging from the lichened apple tree, below the wrinkled fruit, next to the shed where Neil and I had spent the night. I knew it was a body. It couldn’t possibly be alive because no one, not even vampires, can lose their heads and live.

There was no stake through the heart. Instead the heart and guts were hanging out, like a slaughtered beast left half butchered when someone lost the will to keep on cutting.

That someone was crouched below the body, sobbing in a pool of dust and blood, with small misshapen apples all around.

Neil said nothing. He put his arm around me as though to shield me from the sight. I shook him off.

‘Gloucester,’ I said. I walked across the courtyard, automatically avoiding the pools of blood. I put my hand on his shoulder. ‘Gloucester,’ I said. ‘Come inside.’

I don’t think he heard me. I don’t think he even knew I was there.

‘Gloucester, come away. Please,’ I said.

He had heard me. He said through the sobs and gritted teeth, ‘No.’

‘Please. You must.’

‘No,’ he said. ‘No. This is her blood. Don’t you see? He was sucking at her! It’s her blood.’

And then I understood.

‘She’s in the kitchen, Gloucester,’ I said. ‘You have to help us clean her up, so we can bury her.’

For the first time he looked at me. ‘All right,’ he said suddenly, like a child. He got to his feet and began to stumble towards the back door.

I glanced at Neil. It was a glance that meant to say: ‘Please, for God’s sake, deal with this creature’s body while I take care of Gloucester.’

But Neil just said, ‘Gloucester, where are the children?’

For a moment I thought my heart would freeze. Then Gloucester said dully, ‘We all took them down the creek. It was hot. We were going to swim. He said to me, “You go. I’ll help her get the dinner.” He said, “I’m good at things like that.” So I went with them. But then I thought…I don’t know what I thought. I think I thought, he’s like the boy with Doris. He was the same boy, wasn’t he? It was so long ago. And I remembered what you said had happened to Doris, and I came back and…and the axe was there, and so I killed him.’

No one said anything.

Then Gloucester said, ‘He’s gone now, hasn’t he? It’s safe again?’

‘Yes,’ I said. ‘Yes, it’s safe again.’

Neil said nothing. His gaze went from the body to me and then to Gloucester. But still he said nothing.

‘Gloucester, come inside,’ I said. ‘We have to…to look after Perdita before the children get back. Neil…’

‘I’ll get the body down,’ said Neil expressionlessly. ‘I’ll cover it with something. Then I’d better tell the others.’

B
lack Stump had a graveyard high on the hill, where the floods couldn’t reach it and the wind from the sea could. They had their own rituals: a bier of woven cornstalks and a tree to plant on a grave, where a ghost could sit and watch the clouds gather on the horizon ‘and call the rain for us,’ said Portia, holding my hand. I wondered if the child understood what had happened, the bitter worm that had invaded the apple of their lives, turning the heart brown and dead.

‘It’s an apple tree,’ said Portia, pointing to the sapling. ‘Perdita’ll feed the apples and then we’ll eat them and think of her.’

And I realised that Portia had grown up with life and death in a way that I never had. I had only played with images and thought I understood.

We walked back down the hill to Black Stump after the funeral, Hippoltya supporting Gloucester, Neil helping shepherd the children. I lagged behind and Ophelia joined me. We walked without speaking for a while.

‘I’m sorry,’ I said at last. ‘I know my words are inadequate. But I’m sorry.’

‘What for? That you didn’t catch him before he killed Perdita? At least you tried.’ Ophelia gestured at the straggling line in front of us, then at herself. ‘It was no more your duty to go round catching murderers than ours. But at least you tried, while we just washed our hands and let you go alone.’

‘You don’t understand,’ I said. Then stopped, because I wasn’t sure I understood either. ‘It used to be my job, making connections,’ I said. ‘If the next piece of data wasn’t there, I used to hunt for it. It’s habit.’

‘You mean you’ve hunted murderers before?’ asked Ophelia.

‘No,’ I said.

‘Of course not. Your job was research, not action. Pretend worlds, not real ones.’ She bit her lip. ‘You didn’t even know the Outlands. But you still did what you could.’

I stared at her. ‘You know who I am?’

She looked surprised. ‘Of course. It was on the vid for days. We do watch the vid, you know. Well, when the power’s working anyway.’

‘None of you said anything.’

She shrugged. ‘We didn’t think you’d want to talk about it. I…we didn’t really take you seriously. I mean…we didn’t think you were seriously going to hunt for Doris’s killer.’

‘What did you think I was doing?’

‘Finding an excuse to spend time alone with Neil,’ said Ophelia bluntly.

The others had reached the house now. I paused by the orchard gate. ‘I suppose I was,’ I said. ‘Even if I didn’t admit it to myself. But I did want to find her killer.’

‘Well, now you have,’ said Ophelia lightly.

‘No,’ I said.

Ophelia stared, the crow’s feet around her eyes crinkling in surprise. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Tam didn’t kill Doris. He couldn’t have.’

‘Why not!’

‘He was more than 200 kloms away when Doris was killed.’

‘But maybe he had access to a dikdik…or she did…’

‘Someone would have seen her,’ I said. ‘There was no reason for her to hide. Besides.’ I stopped. It was hard to say this. Hard to go on. ‘He…he wasn’t a true vampire. He…just liked to pretend. His obsession must have grown when Doris left him, when there was no one who knew how to play vampire games.’

Ophelia looked at me strangely. ‘And you think that whoever killed poor little Doris was a true vampire?’

‘More or less. I always have. The wounds were small you know. Neat cuts. Not like those…’ I couldn’t quite bring myself to say Perdita’s name. ‘I’ve always had a feeling that whoever did it was a real vampire, genetically a vampire. I don’t know. I’m not explaining it very well. It’s just sometimes, when I used to look at a design problem, I’d get a feeling: “
This
is the way this world should go.” And so I’d follow my instinct, my subconscious, if you like, and most times I’d be right.’

‘So you’re following a feeling now?’

‘And a little evidence too.’

Ophelia glanced back up at the house. Neil was at the door, gazing out to see where I was. I waved at him and he went back inside. ‘Does Neil know about this little bit of evidence?’ she asked.

‘No,’ I said. ‘Well, yes. But I don’t think he’s worked out its significance.’

‘Are you going to tell him?’

‘Not yet.’

‘I see.’ She reached up and picked an apple. It was small and misshapen. She examined it without speaking, then threw it towards the hens. ‘You know, at the end of everything,’ she said, ‘if…if for some reason you don’t want to stay near Neil’s community, well, you’re
welcome here. We can always build another house.’ She smiled. ‘Or you can share with me.’

‘Thank you,’ I said at last.

‘Don’t thank me. I snore. But we could add on another bedroom.’

‘I’ll see what happens. But…I do thank you.’

‘Let us know what happens, either way,’ said Ophelia.

‘I will. I can’t use a Terminal, not without help. I’d rather tell you in person anyway. I owe you all that much.’ I hesitated. ‘It’s funny. I feel at home here. It’s as though you all operate like we did, like the Forest. Even though you can’t read each other’s minds.’

Ophelia laughed. ‘Want to bet on it? When Juliet gets that look on his face or Yorick begins a sentence with, “Well it seems to
Me…
” It’s not necessarily a good thing, you know, getting too close. Gets incestuous, and I don’t just mean sex.’

‘Theo—Neil’s foster father—said much the same thing to me. He was explaining why they’d welcome me as a member.’

We walked a few steps and then I said, ‘The other body, what did you do with it?’

‘Did you see the cage of hens down by the corn store?’

‘Yes,’ I said.

‘I put the body through the hammer mill with the hen’s corn,’ said Ophelia clearly. ‘And then I boiled it up and fed it to those hens. From now till the time the hens die those eggs will be the ones we trade to Nearer To Heaven. Brother Pederast can feast on them with my blessing, and when the hens die they can have those to eat as well.’

She walked up the steps into the kitchen.

It was true, I realised, as I watched her go. Outland communities have their own systems of justice.