Vampire Watchmen (Samantha Carter) by Tim O'Rourke

Author:Tim O'Rourke [O'Rourke, Tim]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Little, Brown Book Group
Published: 2014-09-04T03:00:00+00:00

19

Not wanting to stay and listen to the growing, desperate howls of my imprisoned friends, nor wanting to hang out at the graveyard until I could pile more of the dead on to the fire, I made for the stables at the back of the church. What little was left of the king’s carriage stood to one side. It was slowly being covered in white ash that blew through the night from the fire. I went to fetch the horse from the stable and rode it out into the graveyard. The watchman said that it would be a few hours before I could add any more of the bodies to the fire without fear of smothering it. He had also said that he’d discovered the half-eaten body at number three Dock Street. I knew Dock Street. If it was the same as the one in 2014, then it wasn’t too far. The preacher had warned me against leaving the church, but I couldn’t just sit here, waiting for the dead to burn. Gently prodding at the horse’s sides with my boots, I headed in the direction of Dock Street and the house where the eaten remains of the body had been found. I wondered if going there might offer me some clue as to who had killed her. Or was I just kidding myself? Was I not simply just escaping the sounds of my friends howling and the sight and smell of all of those dead bodies? If I were to be honest, I was running away. I couldn’t wait alone at that nightmarish graveyard, and I might learn something that could help me and my friends discover the identity of the vampire we were searching for.

I rode the horse through the narrow streets. Each of them was filled with smoke so thick it was like a fog that swirled all around me. At regular intervals there was a street fire burning. The preacher had told me it was believed the smoke would rid the air of germs and therefore prevent the plague from spreading. Annoyed, he had told me it did nothing but give the vampires a cloak to hide behind.

Slowly I rode on. Sometimes it became so thick I could barely see more than just a few feet in front of me and I only passed a handful of people as I made my way down the murky, empty thoroughfares. Each of them shot me a quick stare then looked away again; they either wore a hanky pulled across their face like bandits, or a posy of garlic and herbs at their throat. I passed houses with candles that flickered in the windows. There were buildings with red crosses daubed on the front doors and men wearing hoods and masks keeping guard outside. Watchmen. They observed me go by, silent, not one of them so much as nodding an acknowledgement at me. An overwhelming sense of fear permeated the very streets I rode. It seeped from beneath those

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