Vampire Hollows (13 page)

“Who were you talking to?” I whispered.

She made no reply. Then, pulling herself free of my grasp, she turned and headed back into the woods. I looked down at the footprints again and could see by the size that they belonged to a male. But there was something else; with my heart turning cold in my chest, I crouched down and picked up the discarded cigarette butt that had been left by the base of the tree.

Chapter Twenty

“Kayla!” I called after her, but she had gone. Not wanting to lose track of her in the woods, I flicked the cigarette butt away and raced after her.

Tearing aside the branches that blocked my path, I ran in the direction she had gone. At first I feared that I had lost her, then ahead I caught sight of her.

“Kayla!” I yelled. “Wait for me!”

She didn’t stop, or even slow, so I raced after her. Reaching out, I took hold of her arm, spinning her around. “Kayla, are you all right?” I asked her.

“I guess,” she said, looking at me, and I could see the tracks of tears running the length of her face.

“Why did you run away from me?” I asked her.

“Run away from you?” she said, looking confused.

“Back there,” I said pointing back over my shoulder. “You were crying and I hugged you.”

“Hugged me?” she asked, staring blankly at me. “You never hugged me.”

“Yes, I did,” I insisted.

“Kiera, we’ve been looking for you for ages,” Kayla explained. “You went missing just after we entered the woods.”

“But I was with you over there just a few moments ago,” I breathed.

“Impossible,” someone said, and I glanced back to see Luke and the others coming towards me.

“I know what I saw,” I said. “You were by one of those weeping willows and you were crying.”

“Not me,” Kayla said and she did look genuinely puzzled.

“She’s been with me the whole time,” Luke added. “We’ve been looking for you.”

“Kiera,” Isidor said, coming close. “I told you these woods can play with your mind, your sanity.” And he gently squeezed my shoulder.

“What else did you see, Kiera?” Luke asked, and his voice was soft and caring.

“My father,” I said, now feeling utterly confused.

“But your father is dead,” Luke whispered and touched my hand.

“It’s these woods,” Isidor insisted. “I told you we should never have come in here. I knew something like this would happen.”

“Okay, Nostradamus,” Potter growled, pushing Isidor aside. “Let’s just get out of here.”

“I agree,” Luke said, taking me by the arm.

Pulling away from him, I snapped at them all, “I know what I saw!” Then turning, I stormed off through the weeping willows.

The others followed, and it was as if a dark blanket had fallen over all of us. It was more than just the oppressive atmosphere of the woods. There was a darkness seeping between us as a group – a group that had once been tight now seemed to be splitting apart, being unwound at the edges like a frayed rug. But why was this happening and who was yanking on the threads that were tearing us all apart?

Had I really seen Kayla? Had I really seen my father? Isidor had said that the woods messed with your head, that they were haunted by past feelings of sorrow that we had buried deep within us. But why hadn’t the others been affected? I knew all of them were haunted by feelings of loss for loved ones. They had all been hurt. But why, then, had I seen Kayla? If she had just been a ghost, why had she been beneath that weeping willow? Kayla had never caused me any sorrow.

With my head feeling as if it had been wrung through a mangle, I saw the edge of the woods and hurried towards it, just wanting to be free of those weeping willows. Stepping back onto the side of the mountain, I could see that the light from the Light House had faded. The stalagmites which hung above me sparkled, and from where I stood, they did look like a sea of stars. How long had we been inside the woods? It was as if I had lost all sense of time. But how long did it take the Light House to turn? Did it rotate on a twenty-four hour cycle like the sun? I didn’t know, and part of me didn’t care. I just wanted to get to this Light House, get Kayla to hear whatever it was that Coanda hoped she might hear, and then…then what? Make our way to the Dust Palace and…decision time.

Pushing that thought from my mind, I stood and waited for the others to catch up. I watched them clear the edge of the woods and come towards me. They walked together and part of me felt left out, almost excluded from the group.

“It will be night soon,” Coanda said as he strode towards me. Pointing ahead, he said, “We’ll make camp just on the other side of that ridge.”

Looking at Kayla, who was standing close to Potter, or was it the other way around? Was Potter standing close to Kayla? “What about this person who has been following us?” I asked.

“They’ve gone now,” Kayla told me.

“How can you be so sure?” I asked her.

“Because I can’t hear them,” she half-smiled at me.

“Okay?” Coanda said, eyeing me.

“I’m fine,” I told him, setting off towards the ridge where we were to make camp for the night.

The rest of the group hung back, as if sensing that I wanted – needed – to be alone. I scrambled over the ridge of rock and found myself in a circular clearing. The ground was rocky and uneven in places. The area was shielded by trees and I was relieved to not see one of those weeping willows, even though as the wind blew by, I was sure I could still hear them sobbing.

Walking to the outermost edge, I leant against a large rock and watched the others climb into the clearing. Potter glanced across at me and winked. Leaving the others, he came towards me.

“How you doing, tiger?” he whispered, popping a cigarette in the corner of his mouth.

“Just leave me alone,” I told him.

“If you say you saw your dad in those woods, then I believe you,” he said hunkering down beside me.

“And what about Kayla?” I hissed.

Shrugging his huge shoulders, he blew smoke from the corner of his mouth and said, “Did you really see her, Kiera?”

“I saw her!” I snapped and stared into his eyes.

Staring back into mine, Potter said, “Okay, I believe you.”

“My dad was a ghost, I can accept that,” I told him. “But Kayla wasn’t. She was really there.”

“Okay,” he said. “I don’t claim to understand why, but I believe you.”

“Why?” I pushed.

Looking back over his shoulder at the others and then back at me he whispered, “Because I saw one or two of my own demons hiding out in those woods.”

“Who?” I breathed.

“You wouldn’t know him,” Potter said.

“Who?” I insisted.

“A Lycanthrope,” he told me, not meeting my gaze as if he felt ashamed in some way. “His name was Drake, and he paid the price for crimes he didn’t commit.”

“Why didn’t you say this back in the woods?” I hissed. “Why did you let everyone think I was going mad?”

“Because I’m starting to believe that this Elias Munn wants you and everyone else to believe you’re going mad. He wants us to question your judgment, Kiera – to stop people from having faith in you.”

“And what about you?” I asked him. “Do you have faith in me, Potter?”

“Does a bear shit in the woods?” he smiled and winked at me. Then, without saying another word, he stood, dropped his smouldering cigarette butt, ground it out with the heel of his boot, and walked away. I sat and looked at that cigarette butt and recalled the one I had seen by the weeping willow. I continued to look at it while the others set up camp and the sky turned black.

Taking my iPod, I switched it on. Rolling onto my side and closing my eyes, I lay and listened to Will Young sing
Leave Right Now
, and I wished that I could.

Chapter Twenty-One

“
She can’t be!” The pathologist murmured as she hovered over me, scalpel only inches from my good eye.

“I’m alive in here!” I screamed inside my head. Got to get that scalpel away from me! Got to get that…

Then, without thought, more by instinct, I thrust out my hand and took hold of the pathologist’s wrist. I curled the three fingers on my right hand with such force that the pathologist screamed, fearing her wrist bone would disintegrate.

“Get that thing away from me!” I yelled, but the words didn’t sound anything like that. They came out sounding slushy, like water lapping against the side of a bath. My tongue rolled against the inside of my mouth and spittle sprayed from the small, circular opening where my lips had once been.

“
Slet sat sing sway rom smeee!” I screamed again, jerking the pathologist’s arm to the right and sending the scalpel flying across the lab. The guy with the needle ducked, then slipped backwards and crashed into a silver trolley that toppled over and sent surgical equipment clattering across the room.

The police officer backed away and began fumbling for his radio which was attached to his shirt. Groaning, the pathologist fell away, holding her wrist to her chest. I swung my legs over the edge of the mortuary slab and stood naked before them. My legs began to buckle in the middle and I staggered forward, leaning against the tiled wall of the mortuary to keep my balance.

“Slothes!” I screeched at them, holding out the two fingers that dangled from my left hand. “Slothes!”

“What?” the Pathologist mumbled, her face as white as her medical coat.

“Slothes!” I said again, through the hole in my face.

“She wants her clothes,” the police officer said, stepping away from the wall on the opposite side of the mortuary.

agreement. “Slothes,” I said again, holding out what was left of my hands. “Slothes spleese.”

“
Give the girl her clothes,” the officer ordered to the lab assistant.

I watched as the assistant gathered my clothes from a nearby workbench. Everything appeared to be in infrared. The assistant came towards me like a child nearing a dog that had a history of biting. When he was within a few feet of me, the lab assistant chucked the clothes in a ball at my feet.

Bending, I picked up the black overalls and threaded one of my legs into them. Lurching from side to side, I looked at the lab assistant and shouted, “Selp smee!”

The assistant looked at me, trying to decipher what it was that I wanted.

“
Help her put her clothes on,” the officer said as he tried to remove his radio from his shirt hoping he hadn’t drawn my attention to what he was planning to do.

Coming forward, the assistant bent down and pulled the legs of the overalls up to my waist. I leant against him for support and the assistant shuddered under my icy touch and…

Chapter Twenty-Two

…I was woken by the sound of screaming. Sitting bolt upright, I could already see that Potter was on his feet and staring into the trees that surrounded the camp. Luke jumped up, followed by Coanda, but where were Isidor and Kayla? And who had been screaming?

Tucking my iPod away, I raced into the centre of the camp. The fire that had been made was now nothing more than a pile of smouldering ash. It was still night and those stalagmites continued twinkle above us.

“Who was screaming?” I asked the others, but before any of them had a chance to answer, Isidor came staggering from amongst the trees and into the camp. His hands were held out before him and something black dripped from them. He made a gasping sound in the back of his throat, as if he were having difficulty in breathing. He looked down at his hands, his mouth open.

“Isidor?” I yelled as I raced towards him. “What’s happened?”

As if in answer to my question, he held his hands up and I could see they were covered in blood. “Isidor, have you hurt yourself?” I asked, feeling my own panic start to rise inside of me.

Staring at me from between his bright red fingers, he shook his head and mumbled, “Kayla.”

“Kayla!” I snapped at him, fighting the urge to shake some sense into him. “Where’s Kayla? What has happened to her?”

Then, turning slowly, he pointed one blood-soaked finger back towards the trees and I watched as it dripped with red stuff. Realising I wouldn’t get any sense from him, I brushed him aside and ran towards the trees. Screwing up my eyes, I stared into the slices of blackness between the trees. I could see where they had been broken down and bent aside where Isidor had made his way towards them. Following the tracks he had left behind, I raced amongst the trees.

“Kayla!” I hollered. “Kayla where are you?”

I could hear the others come floundering through the trees behind me, and I cursed them under my breath as I feared that they could well be destroying any tracks that might have been left behind. But I didn’t have time to give them a lecture in crime scene preservation right now, so I pushed on. Then just ahead, I could see something that made my heart stop. My fears of there being a crime scene were correct as I spied Kayla lying dead on the ground just feet from me. I stood rooted to the spot and looked down at her. Kayla lay on her back, her arms splayed out on either side of her. Her eyes were open and blank-looking. Her hands were curled into fists and her head looked misshapen and covered in blood. Her thick, red hair lay in bloody stripes across her face where it had stuck to the blood. The urge was to run to her and cradle her in my arms, but I had to bury my feelings deep inside me. If I ever had to keep control, it was now. I wouldn’t do Kayla any justice if I raced forward and destroyed any clues that might have been left. I would catch whomever had done this to her and rip their fucking heart out. So fighting back my own tears, I looked over my shoulder at Luke, Potter, and Coanda who raced towards me.

“Stop!” I ordered, showing them the flat of my hand. “Don’t come any closer.”

“What’s going on here?” Coanda barked. Then, peering over my shoulder and looking down at Kayla’s corpse, he whispered, “Oh for fuck’s sake!” But he didn’t say it as if he was upset by the death of my friend, he sounded annoyed that it was going to hamper with what he had planned at the Light House.