Chapter Thirty-Four

“Pete,” Todd Shannon said, holding the phone to his chest.

Pete Nelson handed Martin a stack of files on the men, women, and children who had vanished from town since the arrival of the Riley family out on West Grand Avenue.

“Man,” Shannon said, “you’re going to want to take this.”

Shannon was white as the snow that blanketed the beach in the midst of winter’s clutches.

Nelson took the phone. “Hello, this is Officer Nelson.”

“Pete, it’s…it’s Bill Scholz.”

Pete knew Scholz, one of the postmen in town. They always talked football. Scholz was a staunch Jets fan, which drove Pete crazy, being a Pats fan. Bill would never let Pete live down the ass-beating the Pats suffered at the hands of the Bears this past January in Super Bowl XX.

“What is it, Bill?”

“I was doing my route over here on Elm and Central. And it’s, well, it’s the Segers’ place.”

“Damn it, Bill, what about the Segers?”

“They haven’t been collecting their mail. And they haven’t placed a stay on delivery. I thought I’d put their pile up on the porch, where it wouldn’t be bothered so much by the weather.”

Nelson held his tongue.

“The Segers have this bench that lifts up. Jim showed it to me one time. Contains all his and Betsy’s outdoor tools and such? Anyways, I thought I’d stick the mail in there until they got home, and that’s when I smelled it. Something off. Something bad. Something dead.”

* * *

Nelson and Martin arrived to meet Bill Scholz at the end of the Segers’ driveway in less than ten minutes. The smell of decay hit Nelson as soon as he reached the front steps of the home.

Knocking on the door, he called out to Jim and Betsy Seger but received no reply.

He kicked in the door, pistol at the ready, then he and Martin worked their way from the entry to the kitchen, living room and to the laundry room in the back. The smell only grew worse.

“Martin,” Nelson said. “Check upstairs.”

Within a minute, Martin was back at his side next to the basement door.

“All clear, sir,” Martin said. “There’s no one up there.”

Nelson knew the source of the stench awaited them on the other side of the basement door.

Goddamn basements.

“You ready, kid?” he asked.

“Not really, sir,” Martin said.

Nelson appreciated the kid’s honesty. If he made it past whatever they were about to discover, the kid might make a hell of a peace officer for some time to come.

He turned the knob and pulled the door open.

The door made a pop sound as it belched out the rot and a flurry of houseflies held within.

Both Nelson and Martin backed away, swatting at the buzzing pests. They covered their mouths, gagging as they pressed on.

Nelson covered his nose with the crook of his elbow, found the light switch just inside the door and nudged it with the butt of his pistol.

“Shine your light down,” Nelson said to Martin.

As soon as Martin’s Maglite beam hit the basement floor both men cried out.

Piled at the foot of the steps was a stack of shrivelled and desiccated forms that hinted at ruined flesh and bones. The only movement was that of the maggots and flies undulating over the husks of the bodies.

Martin held his lunch. Another notch on the kid’s belt; Nelson managed to hold his until he made it to the kitchen sink.

Outside, composed as he could be at the side of his car, Nelson paced in the yard.

“What the hell are we dealing with?” Martin asked from the front steps of the Segers’.

Pete didn’t believe the word that passed through his thoughts: vampires.

His hands trembled. His mouth went bone dry. He faltered against the vehicle. Fear. Fear of the impossible was rushing over him like a swell from the sea.

“Sir?” Martin said. “Are you okay?”

Nelson stumbled toward his car, fumbling for the door handle.

“Sir?” Martin said.

Nelson felt the entire world flatlining. Heaven and Hell, fairy tales and scary stories told around the campfire, truth and the consequence of that truth prickled his skin, a thousand needles puncturing holes in everything he’d ever believed.

Ignoring Martin’s concern, Pete climbed behind the wheel, started the cruiser and bolted from the house of the dead. He glanced back in his rearview mirror and saw Martin throw his hands in the air.

You’re already a better cop than I ever hoped to be, he thought.

He was across the Scarborough town line and out by the marshes where they’d discovered the shipyard workers’ truck and bodies when he finally pulled over and killed the engine. He could hardly breathe. His clammy hands clutched the steering wheel as he leaned his sweat-covered forehead against the rubber cover.

He took deep breaths trying to calm his nerves, but his mind showed him the maggots and flies. The putrid bodies and the scent haunted him even here by the sulfur-scented marsh. Bile burned its way up his esophagus. He threw the car door open and emptied his guts again in the dirt.

When he thought it was over, he got out of the car and paced behind it. Traffic was steady both ways. He waved off a couple of vehicles that slowed near him.

He was still wrestling with his urge to get in the car and drive until he was so far away they’d count him among the vanished, when something thumped down in the grass behind him, followed by a second thud. A familiar voice crawled into his ear like the cold casing of an earthworm.

“Miss me?”

Nelson knew it was Gabriel Riley, the murderous creature of the night that a few hours ago he thought he might take down.

When he thought Riley was a mere mortal. A creepy, disturbed, but human monster.

He knew better now.

He realised it all much too late.

With a speed that would appear to the folks driving by as nothing more than a strange blur in the scenery, if anything at all, the vampire hauled Pete Nelson down to the ground beside his patrol car facing the marsh.

“Officer Nelson,” the monster said. “I simply couldn’t wait for you to come back to my home. I hope you don’t mind, but I cannot tolerate loose ends.”

“They, they know about the house…they know where you put them,” Pete said.

“They might find what’s left of the bodies, but there’s no one to tell them about me.”

“M-Martin will have called it in.”

“Ah, yes, the young officer you just left behind. Well, I don’t believe he’ll be sharing anything…ever.” Gabriel leaned out of the way and pointed to the tall grass behind him.

Pete saw the dead open eyes of the young kid that he’d inadvertently fed to this creature.

I’m so sorry, Martin.

“I couldn’t have you two snoops giving me away just yet.”

“You were there…inside the house, weren’t you?”

The fiend’s smile said it all.

Pete closed his eyes as the vampire snatched his head, palming the back of his skull.

There were no more threats or whispered promises. There was a quick, horrid screech from the thing before it tore Pete Nelson’s throat to shreds and drained him.

* * *

Gabriel tossed Officer Nelson’s corpse into the marsh before snatching up Officer Martin’s. He had plans for this one. He shoved Officer Martin’s body into the back seat of the patrol car.

He ignored all the crooked eyes made by looky-loos as he got behind the wheel and drove to the first parking lot he could find, an empty church lot, and left the patrol car there for someone else to discover later. Whenever they found the vehicle it would be insignificant. He and his sister would be long gone.

But first, there was one last thread to sew.

He would make the boy suffer. Like father, like uncle…and soon, like sister and mother.

Taking to the sky, with the body of Officer Martin in tow, a dark blur in the fading summer sun, he used the fresh blood coursing through him to steel him against the effects of the daylight. He would need to get inside soon. Not for fear of weakening; with the amount of human blood in his veins, he was far beyond the old Kryptonite of his kind. No, he was not afraid. But anyone who saw him would surely scream at the sight of the nightmare he’d become.

His teeth refused to retract; his vampiric features were prominent and fixed for the moment.

He landed in the Zukases’ side yard just as Julie Zukas’s yellow Beetle pulled into the driveway.