Tim Lebbon - 30 Days of Night - Fear of the Dark

“‘Killing team,’” Lee said. “I like the sound of that.”

Patrick and Connie wedged their fingers beneath a roller shutter and lifted. From the grinding of metal against metal, and the protesting grating noises from the door’s mechanism, Lee understood the strength required for what they were doing. Inside, they moved across the large loading space and Lee quickly lost sight of them. He took a penlight from his pocket and flicked it on, and Patrick glanced back at him.

“I can’t see in the dark,” Lee whispered.

He followed the two of them through into a long corridor, the weight of the big gun in his hand a solid comfort. He’d test fired his homemade ammunition in his soundproofed basement, seen what it could do, and he was keen to try it on a living, breathing… He chuckled softly at his train of thought. No living and breathing things in here. The vampires he hunted were as dead to him as the exhibits they slunk around.

And what of the Humains? he thought. But that was a distraction. They were a problem for afterward, and he was wise enough to know that they thought of him the same way.

“So?” Connie asked.

“Follow me,” Lee said. He hurried along the corridor at a crouch, aware that the subtle light could give them away but unable to move without it. He trusted his companions would let him know when danger was near.

They moved out into a hall, passing the remains of a massive stone horse and other tall larger-than-life statues. Lee ignored the history that sat quietly around him and approached an information point. He plucked a leaflet from the stand and ducked behind the desk, flattening it on the ground and holding the penlight between his teeth.

“What?” Connie asked angrily.

“You think I know the layout of this place?” he asked. He examined the floor plan, but it showed only the display areas, not those vast basements where millions of objects were stored. “Fuck it,” he muttered. He located a staircase on the layout, fixed it in his mind, and folded the map.

“Which way, human?” Patrick asked. Lee cringed, but he supposed that was humor.

“Down,” Lee said. “Into the basements. There’ll be rats, if you’re hungry.”

Something crashed to the floor. It rumbled and rolled, a noise that came in from some distance and grumbled on for several seconds. The whole building seemed to shake.

“That’s our cue,” Connie said. “Which way?” She nudged Lee hard in the back, and as he rushed toward the staircase he wished only that he could wash where she had touched him. He felt sullied.

Duval and the others froze seconds before Marty heard the impact sounds echoing through the huge halls. It was as if they had sensed the noise before it happened. Tube? he thought. Truck outside?

“They’re here,” Duval said, and Marty knew who he meant. Rose and the others were here as well, and now this would be a chase to the prize. If they know exactly where it is and I can keep the true room number to myself … But he knew that was unlikely. The tortures he had suffered at Duval’s hands before were nothing compared to what they’d do to him soon. His body ached in a hundred places, and his finger throbbed where the nail had been torn off, a white heat that seemed to set his hand on fire. He imagined that same heat applied everywhere across his body, inside and out. Perhaps he would die before telling them, but probably not. They seemed familiar with torture.

“You two, go and kill them.” Duval waved at Stoner and Kat, and the two humans grinned as they stalked away along darkened corridors.

“Duval—” Bindy said, but the tall vampire held up his hand. When the humans were beyond earshot he said, “It’ll provide a distraction. We don’t need much time. You come with me.” Then he nodded at the other two vampires. “You hide down here. Listen to what’s happening, and be ready when they come down. They’ve lost any opportunity to join us, so kill them all.”

“They use UV lights,” Bindy said, and that was the instant Marty realized she was the vampire escapee from his parents’ house. She killed Mum, he thought. The fury rose so quickly that the blood-rush made him dizzy, tingling all along his nerve endings, and he launched into her. Surprise gave him a couple of seconds before she reacted… He punched and kicked, flailing his arms, fists connecting with her eye and cheek and mouth, and it was like punching a tiger—all teeth. She recovered quickly and knocked him from her onto his back. Then she was on him, mouth wide and monstrous, hissing as her hands pressed down on his chest and twisted his head up and back to expose his throat.

“Bindy,” Duval said mildly, and she moved back from Marty with a cat’s grace. She squatted by his feet, mouth and lips and tongue still engorged. Her teeth had slashed her top lip, and a faint track of blood ran down both sides of her mouth. There wasn’t much.

“You want to stay alive, don’t do that again,” Duval said.

“Maybe I don’t,” Marty said, glaring at the monstrous Bindy.

“She squealed when I killed her,” Bindy said, the words strange coming from her alien mouth.

“Bindy. Please.” Duval grabbed Marty by the hair and lifted him, and it was all he could do not to squeal himself. The vampire propped him on his feet then shoved him forward. “Room twenty-seven. Find it.”

Almost time, Marty thought. I’ll be found out soon . He walked along the corridor, checking room numbers by the pale illumination from night-lights as he went. At the end was a set of double doors, and he marched through them without pause. Whatever was on the other side, let it be. He hoped Rose was there, and maybe Lee with some of his guns, but there was no one, just another dark corridor perpendicular to the one they were on.

The doors were numbered even and odd on either side, like house numbers on a long, straight street. They soon reached number twenty-seven, and Marty paused outside.

“The door’s—”

Duval shoved the door. Its frame cracked and the door burst inward, and he walked through with barely a pause. Bindy nudged Marty inside and turned the light on behind him.

The room was twice the size of the floor area of his burnt-down house. There were eight walkways, and on either side of each, storage shelving held boxes and bags, some numbered, others seemingly placed at random. The shelving reached the underside of the service ceiling, above which pipes and wires snaked in all directions. To the left of the door was a large table and several chairs, and on the table was a set of sorting shelves with three dozen pigeonholes. The table’s surface was smeared with dust and grit, and the remnants of a shredded piece of string.

“It’ll take forever,” Marty said.

“Not that long,” Duval whispered. And he turned on Marty.

That’s it, he thinks it’s here, he’ll kill me now and —

But Duval had other plans. “You can join us,” he said. “I’m about to become the most powerful vampire on the planet. We’ve lost some, and we need to replace.”

“Are you bullshitting me?”

“No,” Duval purred, and Marty could see that he wasn’t. He was filled with revulsion, sickness rising into his mouth. He swallowed, wincing at the burning sensation in his throat, and spat.

“Fuck you, freak,” Marty said.

“We’ll see.” Duval surveyed the room for a moment, then started searching for the Bane, pulling boxes from the shelves and upending them on the floor, kicking through the contents, moving on to the next.

For a moment, Marty wanted to blurt out his deception, make the toothed fucker realize he’d been duped. It would be a sweet moment of petty vengeance. But then the time lost in searching here would be made up again… and he could not afford that. He had to give Rose and the others as long as he could.