Simon Green - The Dark Side of the Road

Once outside, with the front door locked firmly behind us, Jeeves and I stood close together, peering about us. The moonlight reflected back from the snow almost as bright as day, but it was hard to see far in any direction. The fog was getting thicker. I could just make out the tithe barn beside the main house; a great dark looming presence. Any footsteps Sylvia might have left in the snow had already disappeared, covered over by new snow.

Jeeves was already shivering and shuddering from the extreme cold, for all his heavy coats. He glared at me when he realized I wasn’t shivering at all.

‘It’s so desolate out here,’ he said. ‘Like being on the surface of the moon. A dead world, harbouring an undead creature. I can’t believe I’m really doing this …’

‘Believe it,’ I said. ‘Doubts will get you killed.’

‘In the old stories, faith was a genuine defence against vampires,’ Jeeves said slowly. ‘I never got around to making my mind up about that sort of thing.’

‘You saw Khan try and stop Sylvia with silver candlesticks for a crucifix,’ I said. ‘She just laughed. Have faith in your experience and your abilities, Jeeves. They’re far more likely to keep you alive.’

‘But doesn’t all this make you think?’ said Jeeves. ‘She’s a vampire; this is Christmas Eve … It has to mean something! Doesn’t it?’

‘I don’t know,’ I said. ‘I told you, I’m not from around here. I don’t know what to believe.’

‘But if a vampire really does exist,’ said Jeeves, ‘you have to ask yourself: what else could be real?’

‘I wouldn’t,’ I said. ‘You’ll sleep better at night. Can we please discuss the philosophical implications later, when this is all over and we’re back in the warm? I do feel the cold, you know.’

‘Can you smell anything?’ said Jeeves.

‘Nothing useful,’ I said. ‘Let’s start with the nearest building.’

‘That would be the tithe barn.’

‘So it would.’

We trudged forward through the heavy snow. The great grey shape of the barn loomed out of the mists before us, seeming somehow more solid and more real, the closer we got. The whole world was still and quiet, as though holding its breath to see what would happen next. The only sound was the crunch of our boots as they sank deep into the piled-up snow. The air was cold enough to sear my lungs as I breathed it in. It must have been even worse for Jeeves, because he was making quiet sounds of distress with every breath he took, without even realizing it.

‘I don’t see any footsteps,’ he said as we approached the great opening in the barn’s front wall.

‘Wouldn’t expect to,’ I said. ‘The snow’s had more than enough time to cover them over. If you want something else to worry about … Maybe Sylvia can fly, for short distances. You remember how she clung to the drawing room ceiling …’

‘You’re right,’ said Jeeves. ‘That is something new to worry about, and I would just like to point out that I was a lot happier before you brought it up.’

‘It does seem unlikely,’ I said. ‘But it’s best to consider all the possibilities.’

‘You are not helping my confidence at all,’ said Jeeves.

‘I’m not doing much for my own,’ I admitted.

We stopped before the tithe barn, to look it over. Heavy stone walls with slit windows, under a slanting slate roof. Little had changed since I was last here with Penny. A lifetime ago. More snow had been blown in through the open doorway, forming a high ledge. No footprints, no gaps, nothing to show Sylvia had entered the barn. Unless she went skittering up the wall … I kicked my way through the snow drift and strode inside, trying to look everywhere at once while still appearing calm and purposeful. Jeeves was quickly there at my side, his gun steady in his gloved hand.

‘You do know,’ I said quietly, ‘that bullets won’t stop her.’

‘Might slow her down some,’ said Jeeves. ‘If I take out her kneecaps. Or her eyes. And it makes me feel better.’

‘That, right there,’ I said, ‘is why I prefer not to use guns. They give you an entirely false sense of security.’

‘Really not helping …’ said Jeeves.

‘Would you rather I lied to you?’

‘Yes!’

‘And people say I’m weird.’

I spotted an old storm lantern, sitting on the ridged stone floor next to the wall. I picked it up and shook it carefully. Oil splashed heavily in the bottom. I was fumbling in my pocket for something to light it with, when Jeeves hit the wall switch, and bright electric light flooded the barn from end to end.

He looked at me pityingly. ‘We are in the twenty-first century, you know.’

The barn was empty, apart from the hulking shapes of old farm machinery under their heavy tarpaulins. I looked carefully around and behind each of them, even lifting up each tarpaulin in turn for a peek underneath. There was no sign of Sylvia anywhere. Jeeves walked from one end of the barn to the other and back again, just in case. We both took our time, making sure we missed nothing. I could see beads of sweat forming on Jeeves’ dark face, despite the cold. The gun in his hand was still entirely steady.

When we’d convinced ourselves the barn was empty, we went back to the open doorway. I looked at Jeeves steadily, and he nodded, reluctantly. I smashed the oil lamp against the wall, spilled oil in a wide circle across the floor, and finally dumped what was left over the nearest tarpaulin. Jeeves produced a Zippo lighter, knelt down, and set light to the floor. Both of us hurried out the doorway as bright yellow flames shot up.

Jeeves and I moved hastily out into the thick falling snow. A great blast of superheated air shot out of the opening, only just falling short of us. Black smoke was already forcing its way out through the slit windows. The electric light inside the barn snapped off, and all that was left was dancing yellow flames.

‘Stone walls,’ said Jeeves. ‘But wooden rafters in the roof, and old wooden farm machinery … The barn will go up fast enough and burn for some time. No place for Sylvia there.’ He looked at me. ‘Is it right: fire destroys vampires?’

‘I don’t see why not,’ I said. ‘She’s just a walking corpse, and crematoriums deal with dead bodies perfectly well every day. Except …’

‘I hate it when you pause like that,’ said Jeeves. ‘Except what?’

‘Sylvia set Roger’s body on fire,’ I said. ‘Which would suggest she isn’t frightened by fire. It is possible that not being scared of something might actually be a weakness. Sylvia’s too used to seeing herself as untouchable and unkillable. She might not have the same survival instincts as us.’

‘It’s amazing,’ said Jeeves. ‘You keep talking and you keep coming up with things, and yet not one of them is ever remotely comforting.’

‘It’s a gift,’ I said.

I led the way, past the manor house, past the cottages, and on into the gardens. I didn’t think Sylvia would actually be there, but I wanted to look them over anyway, just in case. Sylvia struck me as the type who would do exactly what you wouldn’t think she would do, just to catch you off guard. Jeeves didn’t make any objections. He thought I knew everything about vampires, which just went to show how little he knew. Our feet sank deep into the snow with every step, making loud crunching noises, as though to warn Sylvia we were coming.

Across the snow-covered gardens we went, through rows of trees and past the topiary figures, which I found even more disturbing than before, with even more snow to obscure their original shapes. There were no details left to show what they had been. I checked each one carefully, even batting at the branches with the back of my hand to make some snow fall away and reveal the interior.