The Gathering, page 28
Barbara shook her head. “Rate we’re going, this place will have more bodies than Anchorage morgue.” She slammed the freezer door shut again and they walked into the bar.
“I’m going to make a coffee.” She glanced at Tucker. “Want one?”
“No, thanks.”
“Tea? Water? Bourbon?”
“I’m good.”
Barbara turned to the coffee machine, something niggling at the back of her mind.
“So, where do we go from here?” Tucker asked.
“Door to door. Mowlam’s killer is still out there,” she said.
“Mowlam’s murder looked like a message. The stake. Punished for his crimes.”
“Maybe.” She grabbed a mug and turned the machine on. “Or maybe that was what it was supposed to look like. I still think this is connected to Marcus’s murder.” She brought the coffee over to the bar and put it down heavily. “When Todd Danes was killed, was there anyone else you considered as a suspect? Anyone at all?”
Tucker frowned. “Not really. All the evidence pointed to Todd being killed by Aaron.” He looked down. “But maybe I got that wrong.”
“You followed the evidence. And Aaron confessed.”
“Because I cut him a deal to save the Colony. Instead, I got three of them killed and let the real killer go free.”
Barbara studied him. “What really happened that night?”
“I’ve told you.”
“With all due respect, you’ve told me less than a gnat’s fart in a teaspoon. Seems to me you did nothing wrong, yet you’ve been living like a hermit for twenty-five years. Why?”
“I let the town down. I let Todd’s parents down. I couldn’t be around them anymore.”
“So why not leave, move someplace else?”
He remained silent.
“What’s kept you here, Tucker?”
“The weather?”
“Well, it sure isn’t the food. I’ve not seen you eat a thing in forty-eight hours. Nor taken a drink of anything, not even water.”
He swallowed. “I don’t get very thirsty.”
“Right. So why do you carry a flask around with you?”
His jaw tensed. “It’s not alcohol, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“That’s not what I’m thinking. Not anymore.” She picked up her coffee. “You want to save us both time and tell me exactly when you got turned?”
52
25 YEARS AGO
Tucker glanced at the clock. It was an hour off. Had been since spring. He kept meaning to change it, but the truth was, he’d got used to the difference. In a couple of weeks, the clock would be right again. Most things caught up with you eventually.
The minute hand ticked over. Eleven minutes past nine. But really, past ten. Time was dragging this evening. His insides felt coiled up tight and his heart jittered. He was on his fourth cup of coffee and on edge.
Rita, the young woman who helped out in the office a few days a week, had left about an hour ago.
“You’re sure you’re okay here on your own?” she had asked, looking worried.
“I’ll be fine,” he’d said. “Just got to get through tonight and the Feds will be here in the morning to take Aaron away.”
“I guess, but you’re in for a long night.”
He had smiled. “I got a gallon of your coffee to keep me company. I can handle it.”
In fact, it was his third night sleeping in the police department, guarding the Colony kid. Except tonight there would be no sleeping. He had other plans.
“They’ll be coming for him at midnight.”
That’s what Jess had told him when she turned up this morning, looking nervous and ill at ease.
“Who’s they?” Tucker had asked, even though he knew.
“My dad and some of his cronies. They plan to break him out and make him pay. They’re not messing around. They want that kid.”
He stared at her. Just twenty-two and beautiful with those cheekbones and that mane of gold curls.
“Why are you telling me this? I thought you hated the Colony too.”
“You know why.”
He had shaken his head. “What do you expect me to do, Jess?”
“Get that kid out of here. Because they won’t let anyone, not even you, stand in their way.”
And then she had pulled up her hood and left.
Tucker glanced at the clock. Thirteen minutes past nine (ten).
“They’ll be coming at midnight.”
He stood and walked across to the cells. Aaron was curled up on a blanket on the bed.
“Hey.”
The kid looked up at him with vivid green eyes. He was a pretty kid, with a shock of thick dark hair and delicate features. “Elfin” was the word that came to mind.
“Are you ready?” Tucker asked.
The kid swallowed. “Are you sure?”
Tucker nodded. His original plan had been to get the kid out of there before Beau and his cronies arrived. Drive to Talkeetna. Get an air taxi over to Anchorage. Then deposit him with the Feds.
“And then what?”
The question had come to him in his wife Laura’s voice.
“What will happen to him then, Tucker? You really think they’ll let him live?”
There would be a trial, of sorts, behind closed doors, with expert judges and doctors. A lot would depend on the judge. Some were more sympathetic to colony members than others. But there was more pressure these days to be tough. Most cases involving vampyrs never even made it to trial. The chances that a judge would rule in favor of incarceration for a vampyr guilty of killing a human, regardless of whether it was accidental or not, were slim. In fact, he couldn’t think of a single occasion when it had happened, even with a minor. Despite his assurances (lies) to Aaron, he knew in his gut that the verdict would most likely be a humane kill.
“So, the kid dies either way.”
The only difference was that Beau and his cronies wouldn’t stop with Aaron. They’d want to take the whole colony.
“Did you contact them?” he asked Aaron.
He frowned. “I think so. I tried.” He motioned toward his head. “It’s easier when I’m closer.”
“But they understood? You all need to run. Tonight.”
Aaron nodded. “They understood.”
“Okay.” Tucker walked back into the office and looked at the clock.
9:23 p.m. (10:23 p.m.). It would take about an hour and a half to hike up to the Colony settlement. Once Beau and his friends arrived here and realized what had happened, they would be on their tail fast. It didn’t leave much time.
He thought about Laura. How he had wished he could kill the kid who took her life. But he knew what she would say:
“What good would it do? It won’t bring me back. How does more death help?”
Tucker picked up his gun and stuck it in his holster. Then he grabbed his thick, black duffel and a spare one for Aaron. The boy looked up at him.
Tucker took his key and opened the door to the cell.
“Let’s go.”
* * *
—
They left on foot and cut around the back of Main Street. Not many people were out and about. The wind was bitter and snow was flurrying down. The weather was good camouflage. No one saw faces in the cold. Just hunchbacks with their hoods up.
Town soon fell behind them. They kept to the side of the road. The tall spruce of the forest and the peaks of the Denali Mountains loomed on their left. Further on, Tucker knew there was a rough path that ran through the forest and then joined the old rail tracks up to the Colony settlement.
Aaron suddenly grabbed his arm. Tucker turned.
“What?”
The boy’s eyes were wide. “Something’s coming.”
And now Tucker heard it: the low whine of engines. He looked up. Headlights rounded the corner and blinded him. He raised a hand. Beside him, he felt the boy wince. Two trucks crawled down the road toward them and pulled up, side by side, blocking their way. Shit. The lights flared and then dimmed. Four figures climbed out.
Josh Barnes, Cooper Flint, Tom Jenner…and Beau Grainger.
Tucker felt the betrayal like a sucker punch. Jess had set him up.
He stared at the men. Their faces were grim, and they all carried weapons: shotguns, crossbows and UV guns. Josh Barnes held a large axe.
Tucker focused on Beau. He tried to keep his voice calm. “What are you doing here?”
“Maybe you should tell us what you’re doing,” Beau said. “Because it looks like you’re trying to abscond with a killer.”
Tucker pushed Aaron slightly behind him. “I got a warning some folks might attack the police department. It’s my duty to protect the suspect.”
“I thought your duty was to protect the people of Deadhart?”
“The two aren’t mutually exclusive.”
“Yeah they are,” Josh growled.
“I’m just taking him somewhere safe.”
“You’re not taking him anywhere,” Beau said, raising his crossbow. “Drop your weapon, Tucker.”
“I’m the chief of this town.”
“No. Right now you’re a criminal, aiding and abetting a murderer. Drop your gun. Slowly.”
Tucker felt the anger burn, but he was outnumbered and out-armed. Slowly, he took out his weapon and threw it to the ground. Josh picked it up. He handed it to Beau.
Tucker shook his head. “I’m not going to let you hurt him.”
Cooper raised his shotgun. “You ain’t got any choice.”
The shadow moved fast, from out of the trees. It launched itself at Cooper, taking him down hard. Cooper screamed. Beau raised his crossbow but, in the dark, limbs flailing, it was impossible to get a clean shot. Just as fast, another shadow sped from the forest toward Tom Jenner. He raised the UV gun and let off a flare of light. The figure screamed and crumpled to the ground.
“Dad!” Aaron cried, darting forward.
Tucker grabbed his arm. “NO. Run, Aaron! Get out of here. NOW.”
The boy hesitated for a second and then took off between the trees.
Tom started after him. Tucker grabbed a fallen branch and swung it at the man, knocking him to the ground. Before Tucker could swing again, Josh grabbed him from behind, ramming the handle of the wooden axe across his throat, choking him.
“You fucking Judas,” he hissed in Tucker’s ear, spittle smelling of liquor.
Tucker grabbed at the axe, but Josh was strong. They staggered back and forth. Tucker felt his breath constricting. With one final effort he bucked forward and threw Josh over his head, releasing the chokehold. Josh landed heavily. Tucker grabbed the axe and smashed the handle into his skull, knocking him out.
He turned just in time to see Beau raise his crossbow and fire an arrow into the back of the figure on top of Cooper. The vampyr, older and gray-haired, collapsed to the side. Cooper sat up groggily. At the edge of the road, Aaron’s father still writhed in the snow. Tucker knew he was probably beyond help—the UV gun had burned away most of his face—but he started to move toward him.
And then a voice said: “Stay where you are, Tucker. And don’t make me ask you twice.”
Tucker looked around, the axe still in his hand. Beau stood in the middle of the road, crossbow slung over his back, pointing Tucker’s own gun at him.
Tucker shook his head. “You’ve killed one of them. Isn’t that enough?”
Beau stared at him. “That creature murdered a kid, Tucker. One of our own.”
“He’s just a kid, too.”
“No. He’s one of them. Devils. And they need to be sent back to hell.”
Cooper struggled to his feet. He picked up his shotgun.
“I’m not letting you go after Aaron,” Tucker said, holding up the axe.
“You ain’t got no choice,” Cooper growled.
“Don’t get in the way, Tucker,” Beau pleaded, voice softening. “Let us finish this.”
Cooper raised the shotgun. “It’s them or us. You need to choose a side.”
“Then I choose the side of the law.”
Tucker flung the axe at Cooper. Cooper ducked. Beau fired. Once, twice. The axe landed harmlessly in the snow. Heat exploded in Tucker’s chest. The force knocked him backward, and he hit the ground like a sack of cement. He lay there, chest burning, breath wheezing. Fuck. So, this was what it felt like to be shot.
A shadow fell over him. Beau’s voice croaked: “I’m sorry. I really am.”
Boots walked past. Tucker heard the sound of the axe whooshing through the air. A cry, a thud, and silence. He blacked out. When he opened his eyes again, he was alone. And cold. He couldn’t move. It occurred to him that the bullet may have severed his spinal cord. Not that it mattered. He wasn’t getting up from this. Blood would be flooding his internal organs. He could already feel it in his throat, making every breath a labor. His hearing was muffled, and it seemed like he was staring down a tunnel. He was fading. Body shutting down.
A face drew into his blurred vision. A girl. Blonde hair. Familiar. In his semi-conscious state, mind deteriorating, for one delirious moment he thought she might be an angel. And then she spoke:
“You stupid fucker.”
Athelinda.
“I tried,” he wanted to say. “I tried to save him.” The words wouldn’t come. But in his head, he heard her voice:
“You screwed up.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You should be.”
She was so close. He could smell her. Bitter and dark. Like the grave.
“Are you here to watch me die?”
“No.”
She bent over him and, just before her mouth closed over his neck, he heard her whisper.
“You’re already dead.”
53
Barbara took a sip of her coffee. It had cooled and tasted bitter.
“You’re not fully turned?”
He shook his head. “I was infected by Athelinda’s bite. But I never drank her blood.”
“You’re a halfling.”
The half-turned would crave blood and live a little longer than a normal human, but not to the extent of a full vampyr. They existed between worlds.
“What do you feed on?” Barbara asked.
“I keep some pigs and goats.”
“Does anyone else know?”
“No.”
“What about Beau? He shot you. He must have thought you were dead.”
“He might suspect, but he can’t say anything. Not without admitting what he did.”
“He shot a cop,” Barbara said flatly. “He should be in jail.”
“And I tried to break out a murder suspect. By rights, so should I.”
She nodded. “Okay. Anything else I should know?”
“You mean, do I ever feel like ripping out someone’s throat and drinking their blood?”
“I was thinking more like are you coping okay in the daylight? Is it affecting your concentration or energy? But the other stuff is great to know, too.”
He looked sheepish. “I’m good, thanks.”
“Look,” Barbara said. “As long as it doesn’t affect your job, I don’t care. But other people will.”
“Yeah, I know. It’s illegal for vampyrs, even halflings, to work.”
Barbara caught the bitterness in his voice. “I don’t make the rules,” she said.
“Do you ever question them?”
“I used to. When I was younger.”
“What changed?”
She hesitated. She had never spoken to anyone about Mercy. But she guessed she owed Tucker some honesty back.
“When I was fifteen, I had a friend. She was Colony.”
“What happened to her?”
“She was murdered. By my dad and his friends.” Barbara swallowed. “They found out we were meeting up and drowned her in the river. They made me watch.”
The door to the lodge swinging open, the morning sunlight almost blinding her. Her dad standing there, grinning. “Change of plan, Babs. I want you to see this. All of it.”
“I didn’t think vampyrs could be killed by drowning,” Tucker said.
“They can’t. When the sixth or seventh time didn’t kill her, they burned her alive.”
“Jesus,” Tucker murmured. “That’s horrific.”
Beautiful hair gone. Features nothing more than a formless mass of melted flesh. Trying to stand, brittle, blackened bones snapping beneath her as she staggered forwards and finally fell.
“Yeah,” Barbara said. “After that, I guess I learned to stick to the rules. It was safer.”
“It wasn’t your fault.”
She sighed. “I knew what my dad was like, Tucker. I should have told Mercy to stay away, that being friends was just too dangerous. And I didn’t.”
Because love was selfish. She’d loved Mercy, and that had gotten her killed.
“You had to live with your dad afterward?” Tucker asked.
“Not for long. He shot himself the following summer.”
Tucker shook his head. “Seems to me that devils really do walk among us…only they’re not vampyr.”
Barbara swigged the dregs of the coffee, wishing it was something stronger. “Well, at least those devils don’t come back from a shotgun in the mouth.” She shoved the coffee cup away. “Okay, if we’re done with the soul-baring, shall we get back on track?”
“O-kay.”
“Who would want Mowlam dead?”
“Someone else involved in the artifact trade?”
