I was wrapped in several towels, sitting cross legged on an armchair in the back of E.J.’s detective agency. Next to me my phone rested in the embrace of a container of rice and I was forbidden to touch it. My once new and pristine jeans, in fact all my clothes, had been exchanged for baggy track pants and shirt. The clothing that smelt of sewer water had been dumped into a basket in the corner of the room.
E.J. had dropped his clothes in there after having changed.
He and Miss Weiss were now arguing.
“I thought you said the incursion was minor.”
“It was. I mean, it ought to have been…how was I supposed to calculate numbers? It is not as if I’ve got heat signature detecting equipment.”
“I am not sure they give off heat signatures.”
“That’s not the point.”
“I know what the point is, Elton. You are underfunded and patrolling an area that is meant for a dozen agents, not you and whatever poor soul you can drag into this.”
I was listening without really paying attention but when the room went quiet I instinctively knew they were looking at me. I lifted my eyes and met theirs. E.J. looked guilty. Miss Weiss was angry and I was not sure if it was with me or E.J.
“Not exactly the best reveal of what we do.” Miss Weiss added after a silent pause.
“Not the worst.”
“Name one that was worse.”
E.J. sighed, grabbed a kitchen chair and dragged it in front of me, turning it around so he could straddle it.
“So…” He said, leaving a gap of silence, probably hoping I would start the conversation but I was numb. “So…you must have questions.” I swallowed, in shock at what had happened to me and also at the possibility of what could have happened to me. “Look, you didn’t agree to this job, not to what it fully entails and the dangers you have been exposed to. Tonight was supposed to be a cakewalk, with you none the wiser to what was happening but it ended up as a close encounter.”
“Don’t you mean a brush with death?” I said, angry that he was making light of it all.
E.J. pulled a face. “I’ve gotten out of tighter corners against more dangerous creatures.”
“Creatures?” I croaked. “What the hell were those things?”
“Orcs, shadow beings, goblins, any number of nondescript night loving mischief makers…I didn’t get a good enough look to properly identify them and they’re gone now so…”
“Orcs? Goblins? What are you on?” I demanded. “Those kinds of creatures don’t really exist.” I looked between him and Miss Weiss. “They’re not real.”
“Bet your ankle says otherwise.” I grimaced. My ankle still smarted from where one of them had grabbed me. I had not had a good look but I suspected I’d be badly bruised and limping for a couple of days.
“Fine. They were real but they weren’t what you’re talking about.”
“What were they then?”
I opened my mouth but no title, no description sprang to mind. Nothing except the titles of fantasy movies seemed appropriate to name the creatures. And with no intelligent response to make, I fell back on adolescent superiority, leaning back in the chair, folding my arms and gave E.J. a dirty look.
“If you know so much, why don’t you tell me?”
“I can’t tell you exactly what type of creatures they are but if you understand the multiple places they could come from, it might make more sense.” E.J. tapped his teeth together. “What you encountered tonight was an infestation of fictional creatures.”
I stared at him. “You mean they’re not real?”
“I mean, they were not of our world.” E.J. cleared his throat, glancing briefly at Miss Weiss who had folded her eyes and had a shadowed look across her face. She had not said anything to me beyond asking if I was bleeding. She was not exactly Betty Crocker in the compassion department. “Weiss and I are a team that monitors and polices fictional incursions into our world that originated from books.”
I snorted but it lost its fire when E.J. and Miss Weiss’ expressions remained deathly serious.
“Okay…”
“Sometimes we can escort the characters back to their books, especially is it is a character that would be noticed if missing. Other times we have to do a little pest control.”
“Pest control…” I shook my head. “Are you two insane?”
“We know it is a lot to take in,” Miss Weiss said calmly, “but there is really no other explanation for what happened to you, is there?”
“There’s always another explanation other than fictional characters are invading your world!” I snapped, standing up. “There could have been a radiation leak, turning a bunch of rats into weird monsters. It could have been a bunch of kids dressed in cosplay. It could have been an overly active imagination brought on my reading too many books! Any explanation is better than that!”
Miss Weiss sighed and shook her head. E.J. looked at her. “I told you. Too young. Too,” he glanced at me, “full of adolescent all knowing.”
“And I told you, I needed the help,” Miss Weiss responded tersely then rolled her eyes, “but maybe you are right.”
“How did the auction go?”
“I won.”
“Anything interesting?”
“I will find out when Jai inspects it tomorrow.”
E.J. nodded then turned back to me. “I’m going to drive you home.”
“You do that.” I said angrily.
Not ten minutes later I was getting out of the car with the tub of rice that had all but consumed my phone.
“Sam,” E.J. leaned over the seat to look at me, “I wouldn’t go calling the police about what happened.”
“Oh yeah, that would be bad.”
“And what would you tell them? That a bunch of radiated rats broke out of an abandoned and closed of district that you just happened to be trespassing on and then disappeared without a trace?” My jaw was so tight it felt like it might snap. “I don’t want you to get in any more trouble because of it. But…you deserve an explanation so if you want to know the whole story, come to work Monday. If you don’t, well…I wouldn’t blame you either.” He pulled some cash out of his pocket and handed it to me. I took it gingerly. “The choice is yours.”
With that he drove away, leaving me trying to decide if he was a good guy or a bad guy.
I looked down at the cash in my hand. He’d paid me a hundred and fifty.
“Hazard pay I guess.” I murmured and then it occurred to me I’d left my, probably ruined, jeans, at his place. “Oh crap!”
My greatest concern over the weekend was not to let mum know about anything that happened. She was in bed when I got in and I had a shower then hid the ugly sweats I’d been loaned in a bag beneath my bed. The next day when she saw me she asked,
“Did you have a good time last night?”
Hrm…let me get back to you on that one. “Yeah, okay I guess.”
“What’s with the tub of rice?”
“Oh…I dropped my phone in a puddle. The rice might keep it from dying.”
“You ought to be more careful.”
“I know. I’m sorry.” It was my phone, in my name, paid for by me. Why was I sorry?”
“Oh, how were your jeans? Comfy?”
“Yeah! Great!” Perhaps I was a bit enthusiastic then to cover up my dismay at potentially ruining the jeans that my mum had paid her last cent on.
“I’m glad.”
I took the cash I’d gotten and the cheque, that was on my bedside and not in the pocket of my jeans, thank goodness, to the shopping complex near us. I took the longer route, avoiding the creepy line of buildings that had disrupted my life with its insane claims of fictional incursions.
“Freaks.” I muttered, finding the bank was open on Saturday. The teller was almost as surprised as I when I produced the cheque but she banked it willingly. I went to the clothing shop I got the jeans from, wondering if I should buy another pair so that mum never found out I ruined the first pair but my size was sold out.
Without a phone it was hard to know what to do. I could have spent my cash but I didn’t know what on. My brain couldn’t think about the things I could buy. It could only replay the events from last night over and over and despite my claims to E.J. and Miss Weiss, I didn’t buy my alternative explanations either.
There was a single bookstore in the complex and I found myself staring at the table of ‘best sellers’ where the Harry Potters, Lord of the Rings, Hunger Games and all the other books I’d found far more interesting as movies lay. I picked up one of the LOTR and opened the pages, half expecting a hoard of angry, violent, mythical creatures to come pouring out.
Of course nothing did.
I put the book down and went on my way.
Sunday was spent anguishing over whether or not I should go back on Monday. I honestly couldn’t decide.
It was mum who made the decision for me. “Get an early night tonight. You’ve got work tomorrow.”
“Yeah, mum…about that…”
“Don’t tell me you’re going to quit just because I paid for those jeans?”
Any mention of the jeans, or even the way mum sat down with her little calculator (she has one on her phone but she wouldn’t know it) to work out her income and the bills, allocating every dollar to make sure all was paid for, made me cringe inside.
I decided, at the very least, I should go back to the shop and get my jeans.
To my astonishment, the rice worked. My phone, apart from complaining about having a low battery, lit up when I dared to press the on switch. I was so happy I nearly hugged it. Then I plugged it into the charger, told it I would be back later, and headed, begrudgingly, out the door.
E.J.’s agency was locked so I had to into ‘Beyond the Page’.
Miss Weiss was behind the counter and E.J. was leaning on it, talking to her.
Miss Weiss was slightly superior, as if she had just won a bet.
E.J. was surprised but nodded as though he was mildly impressed.
“Didn’t think we’d see you again.” He admitted.
“Fictional creatures don’t scare me.” Could the arrogant me just take a back seat for a change?
“They should,” Miss Weiss said darkly, “and if you had ever read a book worth reading, you would know that to be true.”
I could not argue with that.
I folded my arms. “Okay, so…I don’t believe in anything I can’t see. My mum says that’s my downfall but you’ve got to admit…fictional characters in the real world? Come on.” I paused. “But I can’t think of any other explanation for those…things that attacked me. So…I guess I’m willing to listen.”
Miss Weiss looked at E.J. who shrugged. “Your call.” He said, throwing her the deciding vote.
Miss Weiss blinked her googly eyes. “The creatures you encountered,” she began slowly, “entered this world through a tear where the wall between reality and fantasy has become dangerously thin.”
“It’s a bit like the ozone in that respect.” E.J. added. “In some parts of the world, its thinner than it ought to be and harmful rays leak through.”
“Yeah but that usually has to do with pollution, volcanoes and farting cows.” I said lamely. “What tears the fabric of reality?”
“There’s a lot of speculation,” E.J. admitted, “most of it theoretical at this stage. And quite frankly I’m okay with that.”
“Really? Why?”
“Imagine if people knew how to tear the fabric on purpose?” Miss Weiss said quietly. “Imagine the horror they could unleash? Forget your nuclear bombs and virus strains…”
“A strategically placed tear with the right horrific fictional creature or power?” E.J. shook his head. “Countries could fall, millions could die and because of the nature of the attack, no one would have any way of combating it. The means simply don’t exist in this world.”
I frowned. “So…you two police these tears and if one appears, you zap them?”
“Depends.”
“On what?”
“Sometimes they’re not dangerous. Sometimes they’re perfectly benign, confused, lost souls who need to go back to their story.”
I eyed them both. “And you can do that?”
“We have done, many times.”
“This shop sits above a nexus, a self healing region that tends to form in the middle of several tears.” Mis Weiss explained. “If we need to, we escort the lost character into the basement and give the tear a gentle push as we send them back.”
“Then all is well and fiction is preserved.”
“Uh huh.” I shook my head. “I can’t tell if you’re writing your own, reality meets fantasy manga and you need me to be the ignorant nobody you recruit that saves the day by the end…or if you’re actually serious.”
“Serious.” E.J. replied.
“Deadly so.” Miss Weiss added.
“Huh…” It was hard to come up with questions to ask when the topic was so bizarre. “So... you just maintain the shop and detective agency as a front to this…secret organisation?”
“The bookstore plays a primary role in what we do.” Miss Weiss insisted. “It is where we catalogue all the different characters and creatures, able to identify them if certain means must be employed to deal with them.”
“Such as vampires.” E.J. explained. “They are subjected to the weaknesses that the author has given them and as such, we can use things like garlic, holy water and crucifixes to protect ourselves as we either contain and forcibly return them to their book or destroy them.”
“So if there was a werewolf, you’d shoot it with a silver bullet?”
“If we had no other alternative.”
“Seems perfectly justified.”
“It might be.” E.J. sighed. “It just gets…complicated if it’s a core character or a respawning creature.”
“What?”
E.J. looked at Miss Weiss. “This is kind of your area.”
She blinked behind her thick lenses. “Fictional books are made up of core characters and your general background characters. Background characters can be dealt with without worrying about repercussions. They do not impact the story plot, they are not part of significant changes and, particularly with creatures like the ones you encountered Friday night, they just respawn in the books. They are nameless, countless background noise. Dangerous, yes. Important? No.”
“Then core characters are the ones that are the lead role, the hero or heroine?”
“Always the lead characters or characters,” Miss Weiss nodded, “but sometimes a character, that has only a single moment in a story but which changes the course or defines the hero’s character, is equally important. In any case, we try to contain what and who we can.”
“But the ones we ran into just needed to be exterminated.” E.J. insisted.
I tried to look thoughtful as if I was processing everything they’d said…but my mind was actually blank. It just all seemed so ridiculous.
“Are you sure you shouldn’t tell the police?” I finally asked. “I mean, don’t we have a right to be adequately protected from these fictional things?”
“Ouch.” E.J. chuckled. “Sam, you’re of a generation that doesn’t trust anything anyone says. Why? Because you watch TV shows about reality setups and YouTube clips on candid camera. You don’t trust anything your leaders say, sure they’re using any crisis to forward their own agenda and you call them out in every social media opportunity you have. You know that the more people involved in something, the longer it takes to get anything done and the more likely someone will out the entire organisation, condemn it, expose it or just plain cause a panic for their five minutes of fame. Convincing the local authorities would be hard enough but keeping it from the public in case someone takes advantage of the potential destruction they could unleash?”
“Or a disgruntled officer sells his secret to a terrorist group?” I got chills just thinking about it. “Those who do this kind of work respect the unpredictable nature of the dangers they face and also what could happen if someone took fiction and made it reality. We only work with those we trust.”
I frowned. “Why trust me?”
Miss Weiss shrugged. “I needed the help.”
See that greasy mark on the floor? That is all that remains of my pride. I sighed.
“I still think you’re both crazy.”
“That’s fair.” E.J. laughed. It was the first positive emotion I’d seen on his face regarding me.
“You can work here without doing field work.” Miss Weiss offered. “I still need someone to look after the shop and help me catalogue the books. Friday night was a mistake and unless you are willing to be a part of what we do, we will not put you in that position again.” She eyed E.J. sharply and even though I was not the recipient of her scathing glare, I cringed away all the same. “Right?”
“Yes ma’am.”
I still did not know what to say.
Miss Weiss clicked her long fingers and pulled a paper parcel out from behind the counter. “These are yours I believe.”
I opened the parcel.
My jeans.
My sodden, smelly, probably ruined jeans were back to being pristine and perfect, not just as if they hadn’t been part of an encounter with fantasy creatures but as if I’d never even put them on. The rest of my clothes were there as well and everything smelt fresh and new.
“How…” I gasped. “Did you use magic from one of the fiction books?”
The corner of Miss Weiss’ mouth turned up which had to be the first time I had seen anything remotely resembling a smile on her face.
“We took it to the laundromat two doors down.” E.J. chuckled. “Not magic but the way they can get all manner of stains out of every item of clothing we’ve ever thrown at them, they might as well be.”
Part of me, a smaller part than when I had woken up that morning, still wanted to quit with dignity and pride, striding out of there with a flourish. But as E.J. and Miss Weiss had talked, the indignation shrank and the curiosity grew. Two days had passed since I was nearly demon chow. Time and distance had a way of dulling the initial fear and with the promise that I wouldn’t have to go back and face evil incarnate, the bookstore had a sudden, mysterious appeal.
Abruptly, I wanted to work there. At least, for a while.
So I stayed.
I signed for a book order and when Miss Weiss deposited her notes on the books she had read over the weekend, I was prepared, with pen in hand, to write up the reference cards with a far greater understanding of what they were really for.
I looked at the books and then at Miss Weiss. “Now I know why you only get one of every book. You don’t intend to sell them.”
“Of course not.” Weiss huffed. “‘Beyond the Page’ is a bookstore, not a shop. We store books here.”
“How long have you been doing this?”
“Since I met E.J. and realised I could make a difference. The innocents in this world need protecting.”
“Except for the ones you hire?” I held up my hand before she could open her mouth. “I know, I know. You needed the help.”
“Exactly.”
“So, I have a question. If this store doesn’t actually sell anything…how do you pay me?”
Miss Weiss’ eyes glinted.
It was hard to know what the glimmer meant.
The doorbell jingled.
“Delivery for Miss Weiss!”
“Here is the answer to your question.” Miss Weiss said, sweeping past me to the man who walked in with casual familiarity. “Jai, I was not expecting you until later. Have you already inspected the contents?”
“I’m good but I’m not that good. The storage container site doesn’t open until midday but BTP is on the way so I thought…hello?”
I felt like the hello was directed at me. The man, Jai, was possibly in his late twenties and had thick, dark hair that looked like it was seconds away from breaking free of any kind of hair product he had applied to it. His eyebrows were thick too and his eyes were dark and fixed on me.
“Jai Giri, this is Sam Baker.”
Jai shook my hand firmly. “Good to meet you Sam.”
“Likewise.” Not really sure if it was good…but it was polite to say so.
“What brings you here so early if not for the shipping container contents?”
“I have the latest inventory and income for the past week’s sales.” I was a bit envious as he took an iPad out of his jacket and handed it to Mis Weiss. “Mostly run of the mill, uninteresting junk but a few finds that I took to my ‘contacts’,” the way he said it reminded me of someone who hinted at being connected with the underground but who actually went to his uncle for advice because he owned a pawnshop, “and cha’ching.”
I wasn’t sure if Jai was showing off for my benefit or if he really was as flamboyant as he made himself out to be. He wore a business jacket over a t-shirt in an attempt to look sharp yet casual.
“These numbers are adequate.” Miss Weiss looked up. “Have you calculated your expenses?”
“Listing fees and transport costs are at the bottom of the spreadsheet.” Jai pointed. “Not a bad profit for a week.”
“I shall calculate your cut.” Miss Weiss said, walking away.
“Don’t forget the code to the shipping container!” Jai called.
“Naturally.” She said and disappeared into her office.
I continued to write out the reference cards, not entirely sure what I was supposed to say to who.
Jai stuck his hands in his jeans. “I’d get her to text me the number but Weiss doesn’t have a phone.”
“That sounds like Weiss.” I admitted, dropping the respectful ‘Miss’ portion of her name when she wasn’t within earshot. It seemed like Jai did the same.
“So…you like working here?”
Good grief…how does one answer that?
“It’s alright.”
“Seems a bit…quiet.”
“I guess.”
Another awkward pause.
“You must really like books, huh?”
When they weren’t trying to kill me…oh no wait, I still didn’t like them when I thought they were safe on a shelf.
I gave a non committal shrug.
“Well…as long as you’re giving Weiss a hand. She’s got this bookshop, she’s got her auction obsession…the girl that was here before didn’t last long. Probably decided the work was beneath her and took off without so much as a, by your leave.”
I looked up. “I didn’t know anyone else worked here.”
If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.
“I only know of her and you but then I’ve only been working with Weiss for the last six or seven years.”
“Are you a book seller too?”
“Me? I’m online.”
“Surely not all of you.” I said smartly.
“No, I mean I’m an online salesman.” Jai tugged the collar of his jacket. “You know when you’re on eBay and you like something so you click on, ‘seller’s other items’ and a whole heap of unrelated stuff pops up? That’s me. Anything and everything. I do the occasional physical market every couple of months but it’s mostly online.”
“You’re an online garage salesman.” I said, not meaning to be rude but Jai seemed a bit put out.
“I know the difference between junk and treasure.” He insisted. “I’ve got a natural talent for it. Last month I found a bag of tarnished metal and was going to toss it aside when I thought, I wonder what it’s supposed to be. So I scrubbed it up with toothpaste and found beneath the grime was an emerald necklace.”
“Not a bad find.”
“Never take anything at face value.” Jai tapped his nose. “You might miss the one thing that turns your life around.”
Miss Weiss emerged from her office and handed Jai the iPad. “Cut calculated and allocated.” She held out a slip of paper. “The code for the shipping container. Remember, all books…”
“Come to you, I know.” Jai promised. “Sorry there wasn’t anything in the last lot. But, hey, might strike lucky this time. Catch you round Miss Weiss, Sam.”
He sauntered out the door and I was left with more questions. I turned and looked at Miss Weiss who raised her eyebrows.
“Yes?”
“You’re one of those people who buys the contents of shipping containers on the off chance you might get something valuable?”
“That would be an accurate description of what I do.”
“And that’s what funds this place?”
“Jai is very good at selling off all the product, bringing me any and all books and is an efficient accountant.”
“Huh.” I shook my head. “With all the books you have in this place, you want more?”
“Only a handful of the books that were ever published knowingly exist in the present day. However, if the book exists, no matter if it is forgotten in a buried, dark corner of an estate or shipping container, a character can still become lost from it, wandering the real world and unable to get home. The books are their doorway.”
“That kind of makes you a doorkeeper, doesn’t it?”
Miss Weiss blinked behind her glasses. “I am a bookkeeper.”
With that our little discussion came to an end and she went back to her office.
A few days went by and to be honest, I was really none the wiser for the hours I worked there. Miss Weiss was almost always ensconced in her office and E.J. only came in to let her know when he was going out or when he’d come back in. When he did come in, he smelt of sewer water and the cuffs of his pants were muddy. I suspected he’d fixed the cameras in the warehouse district so that ‘incursions’ could not go unnoticed.
I began to wonder if it was a mistake to remain working there. The initial thrill of being involved in a clandestine operation dulled in the monotony of day to day life.
It certainly wasn’t like this in tv shows.
I was stifling a yawn, trying to keep my eyes open. The weather was warm, I was sitting writing on a reference card, my head getting lower and lower to the top of the filing cabinet. A few seconds later and I would be asleep.
E.J. strode in, almost preceding the doorbell in his haste.
“Weiss?”
“In her office.” I jerked my head, hoping I looked more awake than I felt.
E.J. didn’t get the chance to rap on her door or even taken a footstep towards the back of the store. Miss Weiss was already exiting her office, a glimmer of light that could only be a computer screen, flashing through the crack in the door before she closed it.
“What is it?”
“I need a professional opinion.” E.J. said, handing her a newspaper. “Page four.”
Miss Weiss opened it up and adjusted her glasses.
“Young woman goes missing without a trace. Jasmina Walker was last seen exiting a train in lower Bellamy with friends on the evening of the 12th…had been drinking although her friends insisted Jasmina had not been drunk. They thought she was right behind them as they left the station but they can’t be sure when she was suddenly not with them. According to security footage, a homeless man was on the platform when Jasmina left the train and may have tried to beg money from them. Police wish to speak to this man who remains unidentified and to anyone else that might have information regarding Jasmina’s whereabouts.”
“Mum heard about it at work.” I decided to add my own bit. After all, I was one of them…sort of. “She was the niece of one of the other cleaners. Her friends had no idea she was gone for nearly ten minutes. They don’t even know if she left the station.”
“How old?”
“A year behind me in school.”
E.J. swore through gritted teeth. “Maybe seventeen.”
“That is disturbing in of itself,” Miss Weiss pushed her glasses up her nose, “but you must have something more.”
E.J. had a tablet with a page already open. I leaned over to have a look.
Pinterest is supposed to hold pictures of wholesome, interesting things like preparing food in jars and how to make macrame…anything.
E.J.’s Pinterest was a flood of missing case stories, wild goose chases and haunted house tales.
“Serial killer groupie.” I muttered.
“Look,” E.J. flicked through it, dodging around the crack in the screen that clearly didn’t bother him the same way it bothered me, “I have this story of a dangerous animal prowling around Bellamy, thought to be a mistreated husky gone wild.”
“The hound of Bellamy?” I asked with raised eyebrows. “Like the Baskervilles?”
“You know Sir Arthur Conan Doyle?”
“No,” I groused, “but I know Benedict Cumberbatch.”
“Who?” Miss Weiss dismissed my reply with a wave of her hand. “What else?”
“A group of kids were trespassing on school property at night when they were approached by a woman who looked beautiful in the shadows but up close, she looked ragged, filthy and, one kid insists, like a zombie.”
Miss Weiss took the tablet and ran her big eyes over the screen.
“These events…”
“Disturbingly familiar?”
“They are months apart.”
“The missing girl is just this week.” E.J. looked pale. “Tell me I’m wrong. Tell me it doesn’t add up.”
Miss Weiss put the tablet down. “I fear you are correct. The coincidences are too great to ignore.”
“You mean, we have a sleeper?”
She nodded.
“I know what a sleeper is,” I said loudly enough to get their attention and they both turned to me, “but just in case what I know to be a sleeper and what you know to be a sleeper…”
E.J. breathed in deeply. “A sleeper is a fictional character that has adapted his or herself to the real world, fitting in almost without a wrinkle.”
“You mean, they walk among us?” I went to laugh but their serious expressions made me suck it back in again. “Ahem, I thought it was your job to stop these incursions.”
“I haven’t lost any from my zone.” E.J. said a little tersely. “There are other places that are monitored by other teams.”
“And sometimes a new, weak point, begins to form.” Miss Weiss added. “Imagine you’re walking on a frozen lake. Every step you take, cracks began to form outward from the pressure of your footstep. You may not fall through the first time but with enough cracks…”
“Eventually the surface breaks and a new fault line between fantasy and reality is formed.”
“How often does this happen?”
“It seems to be increasing in frequency. And due to their almost undetectable nature, they take days to map.”
I blinked. “Not the fault line. The sleeper.”
“Oh!” E.J. shook his head. “It’s not allowed. Characters must return to their books.”
“But sometimes,” Miss Weiss sighed, “a character will slip through the cracks. Obvious ones, unnatural creatures, winged humans, are easy to spot. But a man who could look like a homeless person, asleep on a platform that people do their best not to see…”
“A rookie agent could mistake someone like that, thinking they’re looking for the monster on the outside, not the one hiding within.”
My eyes glanced over the newspaper and the tablet, trying to see a pattern.
“So…missing teenager, zombie wannabe and wild husky…are what?”
E.J. frowned. “I need a map of the area.”
“Where are you going?” I demanded as he went to leave.
“My maps are in my office.”
“Oh for crying out loud…” I grabbed the tablet and jabbed at its screen, finding a map of the city and then zooming in on our street and then the outlying suburbs. “You can use Pinterest but you can’t work Google maps?”
“Don’t knock a good map.” E.J. retorted, leaning over one shoulder while Weiss did the same. “So we’re here,” he pointed at where we were, “Bellamy is here. Zombie lady was at St Marks Primary School. This is the area we need to be looking into.”
“Abandoned churches or old, abandoned estates.” Miss Weiss mused.
“There’s a line of shops that went bust a few years ago when the super complex opened just down the road.” I suggested, hopefully helpfully.
“Too modern. Something atmospheric.”
So much for hopeful helping.
“St Marks school is a catholic school?”
“Yeah.” In fact, if we’d lived close enough to it, Mum would have made me go there instead of the public school that almost all the housing block tenants kids went to.
“Does it have a church attached to it?”
I tapped on it. It took a couple of goes before E.J.’s tablet responded. Seriously, he needed to upgrade.
“St Marks.” I clicked on the link. “Big school. Lots of activity…nothing old or abandoned about it.”
“Aren’t catholic schools usually based near the church that they’re named after?” E.J. asked.
I scrolled down the school’s webpage. Weiss pointed at a church building off to the side of the picture.
“There it is.”
“Looks run down.” I mused. “Hang on, building projects…let’s see…”
There wasn’t much to confirm our theories but a tiny paragraph at the bottom told us that despite the church, actually it had been a cathedral in its day, being listed as a heritage building, plans to renovate the dilapidated house of worship had stalled and as such it and the pretty grounds around it had been fenced off.
“It even had its own graveyard.” E.J. shook his head. “I couldn’t think of anywhere else more ideal.”
“What for? A vampire?” I demanded, still in the dark. Then I caught sight of their faces. “Wait…you really think there’s a vampire in that church?”
“I think there’s more than a good possibility.” E.J. muttered, standing up straight.
“You know how many vampires there have been in books?” I didn’t know the number for sure but after filling in those reference cards for a week and the trend of vampires in the books ‘Beyond The Page’ had received, it seemed like a pretty big list.
“We know which one.” Miss Weiss admitted.
“We don’t know anything.” I said, pointing out that they seemed to think I could intuitively sponge information off them like they were transmitting Bluetooth. “Come on. Fill the rookie in.”
“Who do you think of when you hear, vampire?”
“Edward Cullen from Twilight?” Withering. There was no other way to describe their expressions. “No, I suppose not…because he doesn’t drink human blood but then there’s the werewolf aspect.”
“Sam, clear your head and think of the one vampire that supersedes all others.” E.J. barked.
I paused.
“No…no way…seriously?”
“Depends if you’re right.”
I felt a thrill of excitement run through me.
“Dracula!”
Rather than be impressed, they were both deeply unimpressed.
“You can always tell the ones who have read the book in its true form and not swallowed some diluted, googled synopsis.” Miss Weiss was scathing. I could almost feel the exposed skin on my body as she tore strips off me with her words and tone.
“But at least I knew who it was. I get points for that.” I insisted. “So, now we call the cops?”
“Not until we know for sure and do any clean up necessary.” E.J. looked at Miss Weiss. “Tonight?”
She nodded. “Even during the week the school would possibly have cleaners and teachers in it at night that might be alerted to a presence. It is Friday. No one will be there tonight and if we are not fast, Jasmina might become his next meal and convert.”
“So when do we leave?”
Miss Weiss and E.J. both looked at me.
“You are not going anywhere near that place.” E.J. said darkly.
“Come on!” I could not believe it. An opportunity to see a real-life vampire. It was like finding bigfoot or the abominable snowman. The prestige! The thrill! The fame! Oh yeah…no one was supposed to know about it…but still, it was the chance of a lifetime!
“Didn’t your brush with death teach you anything?” E.J. muttered.
“That?” I realised I had some ground to retake now that they thought I was a coward. “I didn’t know what was attacking me. Now I know.”
“No, you don’t know anything.”
“I know you’re going there tonight and unless you want me to call the cops…” I realised the threat was a dumb idea and to be honest, the way Miss Weiss was glaring at me, I felt like her eyes could slit my throat from thirty paces. Then suddenly she leaned back.
“Very well. You can come.”
I tried not to look excited.
“When?”
“Be here at seven thirty and wear dark clothes and a crucifix.”
I was at E.J.’s place at quarter past seven. I did not want them leaving without me. This time I was smart and left the good jeans at home, opting for a crappy pair of black trackpants. I also made sure my phone was charged and good to go.
Miss Weiss was coming too so I was relegated to the backseat of the car.
On the way we stopped at a supermarket and E.J. got out.
“What are we getting here?”
“What we need.”
Yeah Weiss, the great conversationalist.
E.J. was back shortly after with a bag that clinked like it had glass inside of it.
“Here we go.” He said and we headed to the cathedral.
“What do we do when we get there?” I asked, my heart beating just that little bit faster at the thought of seeing a real vampire. Though it had been a little out of my age range, I had seen the Twilight Saga passed around by the older kids at school and when it was book week, out came the fangs, the dark eye makeup and the white powder. Every guy wanted to be a werewolf or vampire and every girl wanted to be Bella.
“Park and wait.”
E.J. parked in front of a house and switched the engine off. We all looked at the cathedral. I’m not really overly awed by buildings unless they have high speed wireless internet and plenty of hand sanitiser but the cathedral impressed me on two fronts.
One, the detail in it was incredible. No one built buildings like that anymore. The little statues, the arches and mouldings and a whole bunch of other architecture I couldn’t even begin to name, meant that it was hard to become bored looking at it. There was just so much to see. This was due to an era where they didn’t have to worry about making it timeless, council building plan friendly or to fit an air conditioner in the roof somewhere, destroying the vintage look.
The other things that impressed me was just how much cooler it looked in its current state of disrepair. I know that sounds terrible but there was something atmospheric about it, like demons and goblins, vampires and werewolves just had to be prowling the halls.
I saw the cross perched on the cathedral’s pinnacle and made sure my crucifix on a chain was still there. To my surprise, my mum hadn’t had one though she was more than surprised at the request. Still, the housing block was full of people and five minutes later she came through the door with a little silver cross on a chain.
I think she was hopeful I might be warming to her faith and to be honest, I felt a little guilty about cashing in on a vampire’s aversion to crucifixes without really believing any of it. Still, the little cross was cool and calm in my hand.
“Hang on,” I said, suddenly sitting up from the slumped position the backseat naturally tended to make one lean into, “if vampires don’t like crucifixes, why would one take up residence in a church? It’s got to be riddled with them.”
E.J. shot Miss Weiss a look and for a moment, they seemed mildly impressed.
“What abandoned church that has had kids trespassing on it wouldn’t have every crucifix and religious icon defaced or destroyed? I bet that undamaged cross at the top of the church has been the target of kids throwing stones and the roof must be riddled with pebbles.” E.J. asked then twisted to look at me. “How many windows have you broken in the warehouse district?”
I cringed, knowing it to be true. “But still, why risk a church?”
“It’s his nature, forged by the era in which he was written.” Miss Weiss said softly. “Hard to break from the form he was written into. Dracula came from a time of gothic architecture and a world we would say is vintage or belonging to a period time. This cathedral,” she nodded, “suits his tastes and despite himself, he will follow his natural inclinations and the role he was written to play.”
The sun was beginning to dim and the shadows were getting longer but the streetlights were yet to come on. E.J. got out of the car.
“I’m going for a scout out possible entrances.”
“What do we do?” I asked, trying to be helpful and remind them that I was still an active participant.
“Keep your head down and stay quiet.” E.J. said and walked off.
Miss Weiss had the waiting game down to a fine art. She was like a statue herself.
I struggled not to ask anymore questions or tap my teeth together. I picked at the frayed edge of the seat leather. I thought I was being quiet.
“Leave it alone.” My employer said from the front seat without looking at me.
I did so immediately but began looking for something else to occupy.
“How long will we have to wait?” I whispered.
“Until E.J. returns or we see our prey.” She handed something over to me.
Surprise, surprise, it was a book.
No surprise, it was the book of Dracula.
“Seriously?”
“You need to know what you are up against.”
“I thought I was supposed to be the lookout.”
“We tried that. You became distracted.”
How the hell did she know that?
I opened the book but within three lines I was struggling to understand the language. It didn’t read like anything I was used to, which was, at the longest, short blogs and online cartoons. There was something weighty about the book, like a warm blanket and a cup of milk that made me instantly tired. I tried not to yawn.
After ten minutes, or an hour, Miss Weiss opened the car door.
“Come. E.J. needs us.”
I left the book on the seat and, taking a bag as directed by Miss Weiss, crossed over the street to E.J.
“Just out for a walk.” He said, sticking his hands in his pockets. “Easy does it.”
“Found a way in?”
There was a sizeable wall in our way around the cathedral and while the iron gates allowed us to see the front of the building, there was no way to really see the windows or anything inside.
“How do we scale a six foot wall?” I asked.
“We don’t. The back portion of the grounds is a small graveyard and a hedge grows around it, fenced in to keep kids out and from digging up the bones of the fortunate few who were allowed to be buried there.”
He was right. The hedge, in some parts, was higher than the wall and had grown so big and bushy that it had consumed the fence. I reached out and found the fence beyond the verge.
“So how do we get in?” I whispered.
“Here.” E.J. eased back a section of fence that had been cut away, about a foot from the ground.
“Did you do that?”
He shook his head. “I also didn’t dig the hole that goes under and through the hedge. A dog did that.”
E.J. went first, a line of bins hiding our clandestine activities from the road and I crawled under second. Though I had to squirm a little, I could actually shuffle my way along the trench. E.J. said a dog dug the trench. Must have been a big dog. E.J. pulled me out on the other side. I brushed my hands off and looked up at the building. It was a lot creepier at the back where the dying sunlight could not reach.
“This way,” he led us to a door that had been barred at one point as there were holes in the frame and discarded beams to the side, “quietly now.”
I turned to relay it to Miss Weiss then realised she wasn’t there.
“Wait,” I whispered, “where’s…”
E.J. hushed me violently then we squeezed past the door that should have creaked but was smooth and oiled. Even I knew that was out of place.
The inside of the cathedral was a tomb. It was so quiet and dark my heartbeat sounded like I had an external speaker for it. We had to creep from the small antechamber where the back door was to the main room. We stood in the frame of the door and looked around. If the sun had been shining, large and small bursts of sunlight would have poured through the holes in the roof. The moon wasn’t high enough yet though the sun was almost entirely gone so the main chamber was dark and unknown.
“Look for the girl.” E.J. whispered, pressing a jar into my hand. “Watch your footing.”
I nodded even though he couldn’t see it and picked my way through the rubble as best I could. I think there had been some well-meaning attempts to move the broken pews aside but even that had resulted in piles of broken wood I was struggling to inch around.
My eyes were adjusting to the darkness. I could make out exposed beams in the ceiling above and the cracked plaster of the walls. I could also see some pillars and the altar behind me that looked old and forgotten. My eyesight still wasn’t great, but it was better than before.
And yet, when we heard him speak, it was hard to know where the voice was coming from.
“I can smell you.”
At this point I’d been quite excited about the notion of finding a vampire.
But those four words…I wish I could convey the horror attached to them.
Suddenly, it was like death was sitting on my shoulders, its teeth perched above my neck.
I spun around, whipping my phone out and blasting the space around me with light.
Nothing.
I waited, my hands shaking violently.
“Your artificial sun is useless against me…” A shape shifted in the darkness, fading into the shadows, disappearing even though I followed it with my phone.
“Sam,” E.J.’s voice was calm and measured like he was telling me to find my shoes and not like he was up against the lord of the undead, “find Jasmina.”
“Yes,” hissed the voice, thick with accent yet so precisely spoken I understood every syllable, “find my Mina…before my Lucy finds you…”
A screech behind me had me lurching away from the attack but I tripped over a broken pew and looked up to see a woman, dressed in a nightgown, arms stretched out towards me, advancing with a maniacal smile on her face. But it was off, lopsided and like her muscles weren’t working properly, as though she’d had a stroke. And there was no light in her eyes as she lunged.
I would like to put a little disclaimer in here.
First of all, I wish I’d been braver…but I wasn’t.
Second, for all the trash talk about being able to protect myself that I’d ever said…I was useless in a fight. If I punched someone, I would probably break my wrist before I broke their nose.
Third, and this is possibly the most important, if you want to hold onto whatever you’ve just eaten, skip the next paragraph as there is no way to describe this woman without triggering digestive reversal.
She half fell on me, like her legs had given way or she was just that desperate to grab me that she had fallen over herself in eagerness. The result was that she was practically on top of me, clawing at my body as she dragged herself up it, fingers digging in like nails…and all I could think of was, oh my goodness, what was that smell! She was rotten, like the bottom of a two week old bag of kitchen scraps including a roasted chicken carcass, eggs and red meat that were infested with maggots had been left in the sun then split open and dumped all over me. She breathed, or laughed it was hard to know which, in my face and I nearly vomited in hers.
I was more interested in getting away from her stench than I was to fight for my own life.
“Sam! The jar!”
I wrenched the lid off the jar (goodness knows how I managed that as I’ve never been able to open them in one go at home…I must have been imbued with fear induced strength) and thrust it in her face.
She shrieked, another blast of rotten, sewage air hitting me like an air cannon, and lurched backwards, swiping at the air as though my smell had somehow repelled her.
I held my little jar out in front of me like it was a gun, swinging it around, back and forth but ‘Lucy’ had disappeared into the darkening gloom. I saw the name on the jar.
“Garlic.” I gave a terrified laugh then…yes, okay I screamed…again.
Something fell from the ceiling, landing so hard on the floor I heard the concrete crack and burst. All I saw was a black lump that seemed to be unfurling like one of those time lapse flower blooms…only it was the worst possible flower imaginable. Then E.J. lit up his torch and exposed in the unfurled form was a man, tall and angular, who flinched away from the light, his alkaline features illuminated, revealing sharp peaks and shadowed valleys. His eyes were sunken and his lips were thin and twisted.
E.J. met his gaze, unflinching and unafraid.
Damn fool.
Dracula held E.J.’s eyes yet I knew he had not forgotten about me. I was bolted to the spot, a statue bound in the unrelenting bonds of paralytic fear.
“I have crossed oceans of fantasy to find you in this reality.” He said and his tongue whipped out and licked along his teeth, caressing his fangs. “I thought I was heading towards England and yet, I am here…and here I have drunk the blood of the homeless, the meaningless and the foolish.”
E.J. held onto his torch, never taking his eyes off him.
“Just how long have you been here?” He asked.
“What is time to one such as I?” Dracula simpered. “Death is your constant companion but I spurned it and now, it despises me.”
“I can send you home.” E.J. promised. “Back to where you came from, the very second you left.”
Dracula’s eyes darkened to a soul sucking hue. “And why would I want to do that…when I am vanquished?”
E.J. swore and pulled a wooden stake out from his belt. “Vanquished here or in your book. It’s up to you.”
The stillness in the room was so heavy my chest hurt. The air was filled with moves and countermoves, words spoken and words unsaid. I had never known darkness like this. Neither Dracula or E.J. moved…and then I realised little shafts of light were filtering through the chamber of the cathedral. I risked a look upwards. The moon had risen and its cold, white light illuminated strands of floating dust and sparkles.
Dracula’s eyes flickered and his mouth curled up in a smile that would have curdled cream.
E.J. lunged forward with the flaming torch. As I watched, and I swear it happened in the blink of an eye, Dracula simply dissipated into haze.
I risked a swallow as E.J. looked around.
“Is he…” I asked, going to take a step.
“Stop!” E.J. snapped. “Stop.”
His torch flung insidious shadows up against the wall. My eyes were drawn to them as they danced…and then began to coalesce into a form with wings.
I couldn’t speak. I made some stupid squeaking noise and pointed. Goodness knows how E.J. knew where to look, my finger was shaking so hard but as he turned, the torch moved and the shadow disappeared. E.J. lunged to where it had been but missed it completely.
And in that second, I felt a grip on my shoulder and knew death had come to claim me.
“Come and be a child of the night with me.”
Dracula did not smell of rotting flesh yet he smelt of death and I could hear his jaws open, his gasp of anticipation as his fangs lunged for my neck.
“Crucifix!”
I grasped the little silver cross, as if it could be a defence against such an ancient, malevolent evil. The chain burned on my neck as I twisted it to brandish at Dracula. He hissed and gave me a violent shove forward.
E.J. charged him even as he retreated but Dracula moved in the blink of an eye, shifting out of the way of the flaming torch and raked his hand at E.J. The private detective cried out, hand to his face, falling against the wall hard on one foot, blood trickling from between his fingers.
Dracula inspected his fingernails and licked the blood from the tips like a child does with the spoon used for mixing cake batter.
“How sweet you shall taste. I shall drink deeply tonight.”
All I had in my hands was the jar of garlic.
So I threw it at Dracula, like a vampire repelling grenade.
I missed him.
Funnily enough that was the best thing that could have happened because I hit a wooden beam above his head and the little glass jar shattered. Dracula screeched and danced about madly, more worried about the crushed garlic granules than the broken glass.
E.J. did not hesitate. He lunged forward and thrust his torch against Dracula.
I didn’t even have enough time to wonder if I could stand there and watch a man burn to death, even one such as Dracula.
But, like the fire paper that burns up instantly, Dracula’s body simply evaporated into a brief, luminous flame and vanished.
It was kind of hard to know what to do next.
Part of me wanted to laugh with relief.
Another part wanted to vomit.
I looked at E.J., wounded but alive. He gave a rueful smile then his one good eye widened as a screech filled the air and I was knocked down, fangs and rotting flesh consuming my world.
“I shall finish,” she wheezed even as E.J. called out my name, “what my love started, and this world will know my name!”
Suddenly she jolted and screamed in my face, her body going rigid then shaking violently. She was pulled off me and I saw Weiss standing over the zombie vampire lady with a dark expression in her eyes, a wooden stake in her hand.
“Look away, Sam.” Her tone was void of emotion as her jaw firmed.
Do you know what? I did.
But that didn’t cover the gurgling sound and the hissed curses…and finally the long sigh of relief.
I got to my feet slowly, leaning on a lopsided pew.
“Hey,” E.J. said, limping over, “you okay?”
Nothing I could have said seemed adequate to describe how not okay I was. E.J., despite bleeding and limping, was more able to take care of me than I was of him. He patted me on the shoulder then looked back towards where Weiss was undoubtedly standing over the body of the woman who had attacked me.
“Is she…”
“She is free of the vampire curse.” Weiss assured me. She didn’t sound like a socially awkward book hermit. Gone was the ‘Miss’ surrounding her like a halo. It was soft and innocent. What Weiss had done was beyond the pale and yet…I dared the briefest glance at the desiccated body of the woman before turning away.
“Did you find Jasmina?” E.J. asked.
“I did. He had her locked in a room, gagged, blindfolded and chained to a wall.” Weiss replied quietly and the hardness around her voice softened a little.
“She must be scared out of her mind.” I whispered.
I knew how she felt.
“She is out of it. I injected her with a drug that will help blur the events of the last three days.” Weiss explained. “I put it in her neck, alongside the bite marks. It’ll just look like the man who kidnapped her was drugging her for days.”
“You don’t think she deserves to know the truth?”
Weiss looked at me with her ogling eyes. “How is the truth working out for you?”
I shuddered and looked away. I wasn’t sure if I was more frightened about Dracula or the truth about Weiss’ cold hearted ability to dispatch a real person.
“We need to bury that poor woman properly.” E.J. said and then slipped sideways, catching himself just in time before he fell.
“I can put her to rest.” Weiss offered. “It is the least I can do.”
She sounded sad now, more like a real person.
“Dracula?” I asked quietly, as if just by saying his name I might summon him back into existence.
“We will deal with him in the morning during visiting hours.” Weiss said vaguely.
I had no idea what she meant.
“What about Jasmina? We have to get her to the police or to a hospital.”
“Sam can do that.” E.J. said, forcing himself upright. “Sam, the police have a way of sending them anonymous tips. You need to let them know you were in the grounds of the cathedral, and you heard a girl crying inside for help. You’ll sound like a trespasser that doesn’t want to be caught.”
“They’ll be here really quickly.” I insisted.
“Just go to the car and send the message from there, understood?”
“No, you both go to the car and get to the hospital. I will bury the body and stand watch to make sure the emergency crew actually gets inside and finds Jasmina.” Weiss insisted. “Go.”
It was with no little relief that we left that awful cathedral. E.J. insisted that he would drive so I could send the message. Instead of filming the first footage of a real-life vampire that would have made me an internet and wonder sensation, I was sending an anonymous cry of help.
I don’t know how E.J. had the presence of mind to drive. When we got out of the poorly parked car at the nearest hospital, he was clearly in a bad way. He leaned heavily on me and limped inside to emergency. The paperwork was a doozy to fill in, my brain answering all the questions truthfully but my hand and the pen it held, guided by E.J.’s far more acceptable answers.
He'd been given some gauze to staunch the blood flow and I got him a cup of water.
I sat down next to him without a clue as to what to say.
What does one say after something like that?
“I get paid overtime, don’t I?”
E.J. laughed then moaned, hissing through his teeth at the pain.
“Sorry.” I shrugged.
“Don’t be. You saved my life tonight. You earned a little overtime.”
I eyed him. “Just how little is little?”
He smiled which turned into a grimace.
“You think Jasmina will be alright?” I whispered.
“It’s not an event that can be undone but it’s not as bad as it could have been.”
“Yeah but,” I made a vague gesture to my neck, “won’t she…”
“He’s dead. The curse is broken. She’ll just be anaemic for a few days and the doctors will think that’s the place drugs were injected into her.”
“Really? I thought, once bitten…always…”
“According to Bram Stoker, in order to become a vampire, you must drink his blood. Don’t believe everything you see in movies. Read the book. It’s better.”
After tonight’s events, that wasn’t likely.
“What about that other lady? What was up with her?”
“A previous victim who was bitten, drank his blood then died and rose up a vampire.”
“She looked more like a zombie than a vampire.”
E.J. shrugged and tried to sit up a little then when another shade of pale and sunk back down in his chair.
“It’s that blurry line of a fantasy creature trying to inflict the real world with the rules they were written according to. The vampiric transformation worked but Lucy, or whoever she was, was not a fictional character.”
“So she reacted differently.”
“But still fatally.”
I looked around the emergency room, amazed at how people were going about their normal lives, nurses and doctors moving about, children with toys stuck up their noses and parents watching over them with half an eye while staring at their phones, waiting for the queue to move along at a snail’s pace until their turn was up.
“Seems like this is the fantasy world right now, doesn’t it?” E.J. said quietly.
“Yeah.” I nodded.
“Congratulations.”
“What for?”
“Now you’re one of us.”
If E.J. had been drug free, there’s no way he would have let me drive his car. But he was so compliant after a dose of something unpronounceable that I put him in his car and drove him home. And while I only had my learner’s permit, he was technically in the passenger seat although how responsible he was capable of being was not something I wanted to try to prove to a cop.
Fortunately we weren’t pulled over and I got E.J. back to his flat. Weiss wasn’t there yet but E.J. insisted he just needed sleep. He was on crutches for his busted ankle that had been close to a break and his forehead was riddled with tiny strips holding the edges of the gashes together.
Dog attack. That’s what we were going with.
Two ambulances had come in during the space of time that we were in emergency. There was a petrol station shooting and a pub brawl. The doctor we saw looked harassed and tired, overworked and, because he didn’t have his own practice in a cushy neighbourhood somewhere, underpaid. He didn’t question the dog attack claim and simply gave E.J. a prescription for pain killers. He didn’t need anything at the moment he was so high on the injection but promised to have Weiss go to the chemist the next day.
“Really, I’ll be fine.” He assured me. “The doctor said, go home and rest. Do the same. See you Monday.”
Do you know something? That ten minute walk home was the longest of my life.
Suddenly I was on my own and every shadow, every bump and creak had a second meaning.
All the internal pep talks did nothing and by the time I saw the housing block, I was sprinting.
I flew up the stairs, down the corridor and into the flat, locking the door behind me.
The next thing I did was shower because I swear I could still smell the stench beneath my nails and I gagged in the shower as the scent brought back the memory of the rotting corpse that had attacked me.
When I got out of the shower I wiped the mirror and saw my reflection.
My eyes were shadowed and haunted and I was pale.
I dressed in my pjs and went to leave when I saw the little silver cross on its chain on the basin. I picked it up and slipped it around my neck, doing up the clasp.
Somehow I felt a little better.
Needing distraction, too scared of my thoughts to go back to bed, I curled up on the couch and pulled out my phone.
Facebook popped up and the very first post was video footage of an ambulance pulling into the hospital and a weeping mother lunging forward, hugging the girl on the gurney with arms that looked like they’d never let go. I clicked on the sound.
“…after an anonymous tip was sent into the police earlier this evening. Officers entered the grounds of the cathedral and were quick to discover Jasmina who was just waking from a daily dose of drugs that had been injected into her body. Though the man who abducted Jasmina remains at large, it comes in second to the reuniting of mother and daughter.”
The video of the mother and daughter embracing zoomed in closer and Jasmina’s mother wept over and over again.
“Whoever sent in that tip. Thank you. Thank you so much.”
I wiped away the tears that had slipped down my cheeks and turned off my phone.
I was suddenly monumentally tired.
I slid into bed and fell asleep.
And when I woke up, to my astonishment, I hadn’t had one single nightmare.