Thursday

Chapter 18 - Danger

Paul died slowly. Coughing and spluttering he drifted in and out of consciousness for six days. Finally, his eyes closed and his breathing became shallower.

Gail had been expecting it for days and was well prepared when the time came. She was determined to be near her man and she had planned it so that she could always be near him.

That night she carefully cut the lawn into turf and began to dig. She worked steadily throughout the night and as the morning came round, she was to be found sleeping peacefully on a large mound of dirt next to the weighting shallow grave.

She built a coffin out of cheep plywood and other materials that sat in her shed. She lined it with a woollen blanket and decorated it lovingly. She worked without rest until nightfall. A little after dark, it was ready and she placed it in the hole.

She went upstairs to where her lover lay and blew out the candles and took down the cross. Then she gathered up the flowers and took them to the homemade coffin. She sprinkled them in and then returned for her beloved.

“I’m sorry, bunny,” she whispered to him, “this will not be dignified.”

She placed each arm under his and pulled him from the bed.

Panting and wheezing she dragged him into the garden and lovingly laid him on the bed of flowers.

After straightening his clothes and brushing his hair she placed the lid on the box and began to push the soil on top. There was extra soil left over and she dragged the thick plastic groundsheet to the back of her garden where she pilled it around whatever there was to find.

It was just a few hours before light by the time she had finished and laid the turf on the space where her lover was buried.

She went to bed muddy and weeping.

The empty house next to the lab complex was beginning to smell. The foul odour of vomit and mouldy food would soon be detectable outside of the house. Inside three bodies lay twisted and contorted in the front room.

At first glance, the casual observer would see three dead people. However, in one corner was a camp bed and on the camp bed one of the victims twitched a little.

Luke slowly became aware. Luke became aware that he was no longer hurting. He lay as he was the sounds of the world washing about him. He did not move for he had no reason to.

His limbs twitched slightly as his body began to awaken.

Margaret sat alone on the roof of the old house. The night had never looked so beautiful and the moon (when it bothered to show from behind the clouds) had never looked so pale and consumptive. Her life was the now her ultimate dream, she was the beautiful gothic princess and she would rule the night forever.

She looked down at the occasional passer-by and tried not to feel too giddy. Heights still made her nervous but it had taken her almost three hours and a change of clothes to get up here.

She ran her tongue over her new teeth. How sharp they felt and so very pointed. She would be able to feed for herself now. She gave a practice snarl and smiled at the night. Her first victim would not be beautiful but evil so she could feel the passing of a bad person from this world. It would be that silly Peter boy that had pestered her on and off for what had seemed like her whole life.

Maggie, the stalker of the night - loving the evil and the good, taking them in darkness to their end. She loved the very sound of it.

Luke’s body shook and he knew that he would need to stand if only to bring back the life to his now tingling limbs.

However, he discovered that he could not yet move. He continued to lie where he was. No thought entered his mind as to how he came to be where he was or of what was happening. He could see little of the room but his eyes were open. As far as he knew had always been here.

Little seemed to matter beyond the irritation of the tingling I his limbs and even that lacked any urgency.

Luke lay still and knew only that his name was probably Luke. It did not matter though.

Time passed and the sun rose. Luke slept in and dreamed of riding the night and eating the minds of those who stood against him.

The day began and people went about their business. Flies flew about the room where Luke lay sleeping and the stench of stale smoke, vomit, urine and long ago spilled vodka was given fresh life by the warmth of the day.

People passed by outside unaware and the day moved inevitably onward. A breeze stired up for a while and clouds threatened rain.

Car’s drove on roads and people walked and went by bus to homes and shops and back to homes and generally, humanity continued the way it had always had.

The drew to the inevitable close and the sun set.

Maggie awoke from her long sleep and sat up. The first order of the day or night was still the ever time consuming ritual of washing and dressing and beautification. She chose first to wear a pure black dress which was more lace than anything else but the realisations born of the practical experience of the night before caused her to think twice. She still wore the dress but chose her steal toe-caped boots over the more elegant shoes she had first considered.

Tonight, she swore, Peter was going to get his silly little wish and his doom all in one day. Lucky boy.

John had arrived home to the smell of cooking. He breathed in deep and enjoyed the smell - it was going to be a roast chicken tonight and he was looking forward to it.

“No sign of you brother,” called his wife from the kitchen, “I should’a known better than to expect his help.”

“He said he’d be here,” said John, “he’s a little flaky but his no Jackson Dent, something must have come up.”

“It better have or he might just get a short sharp slap from me.”

Peter hurried along, he knew he was late, he was meant to have been at his brother’s house hours ago. He had promised his brother he would help his wife with the cooking. Damn it, he thought, why do I have to be so into my books – I should have just put the silly thing down at the end of chapter four. Admittedly, it had been a good book about a war in the realms of the undead.

He knew there was no point in running and so he walked slowly through the early night enjoying the night-air and day dreaming about being powerful. So good was the dream, that he did not spot Maggie until she was just a few feet in front of him.

“Hello, Peter.” She said.

Peter smiled. “Hello Maggie,” he said, “you look stunning tonight as unusual.”

Creep, thought Margaret but she simply said: “so where are you going?”

“My brothers house for a bite to eat.” He said.

“I could do with a bite,” said Margaret smiling slightly, “may I come with you.”

“Sure, yeah… I mean of course.” Blurted peter taken aback. He had grown so used to Maggie’s knock-backs and sarcastic comments that he was totally blind-sided by this new approach. Maggie was his dream woman she was like a goddess of the night

She linked his arm through his and they walked in silence together. In silence because Peter could not think of one thing to say. He had dreamed about a moment like this for years. So long had he wanted to be near Maggie that he had simply given up hope. He no longer wrote pinning poetry or love letters that he usually never sent.

They continued still in silence. In silence because Margaret could not bring herself to talk to this boy. He was such a want to be nightling but with none of the subtle trimming that she had come to look at. It sickened her as it always had.

Luke sat up on the bed. A thousand screams fading from his ears as the dream world departed. Non of it made any sense and it bothered him for reasons he did not understand. He could remember nothing. The world and his mind were blanks.

He lay back down again. His body was weak and he did not know how to react. As he lay there, he sensed twitching movements in the room. He sat up and looked at the body of Jackson Dent.

At once, he knew his name and realised that he was not quite dead. His mind started to focus and he realised that the room stank he ran from the room and was sick on the back doorstep gasping the clean night air.

Jackson’s mind swirled with fictions and images that made no sense to him. He was becoming aware of his body again and that it felt strange. He knew he could not move but he knew in the same way a dieing animal knows things. His mind drifted back into the dream state and the twitching slowly stopped.

Maggie knocked on the door and a few moments later, it opened. A dull housewife looking woman greeted them and Maggie instantly pitied her. Peter introduced his new companion and the housewife led them in.

The house was somewhat twee and lacked any poetry. It was somehow exactly the modern foolishness she had come to expect from this family.

“Peter has a girl with him.” Said Sue.

“Good for him it is about time he had a girl friend.”

“Not so fast big bro.” Said Peter.

John turned around: “You’re dead,” he said.