Dark Season: The Complete Third Series (All 8 books) (39 page)

He stares at me for a moment, before reaching over and pulling the sheet away. I look down; as soon I see what's on the table, I take a step back. It's a human body, elderly and male, mummified to the point of total dehydration. Its skin is withered and putrid, colored various shades of brown and green and yellow. Looking more closely, I see multiple long stitch wounds, as if someone cut the body up and then attempted to sew it back together.

"What happened here?" I ask, turning to Patrick. "I don't get it. What are you trying to show me? Did you do this?"

He shakes his head. After a moment, he turns and walks over to the next table, pulling off the sheet to reveal a similar body. He goes to the other tables and does the same, and soon I'm facing five mummified bodies, each of which appears to have been partially dissected and then put back together. In each case, the stitching is slightly different; it's almost as if someone was experimenting on the bodies, trying out different methods to achieve some sick aim.

"Thoughts?" I say, turning to Constance.

"Whoever did this," she replies, staying a few paces behind me, "he or she had no specialist training. The stitch marks are erratic and undisciplined, as if someone was learning as they went along". She pauses, looking around the room. "Any surgery performed in a place like this would have been almost certainly fatal. It doesn't look as if the environment could possibly have been sterilized. There's no equipment. I don't even see any method for delivering anesthetic". She looks back at the bodies. "Whatever was done to these people, it must have hurt. A lot".

"You think they were alive when they were sewn up?" I ask.

She nods, pointing carefully at the nearest body. "There are signs that a healing process began, even if it wasn't completed. I'd say this specimen lived perhaps twenty-four hours after whatever was done to him". She moves a little closer, to get a better look. "It's hard to say how long ago all of this happened, but we're talking at least a decade. It's hard to be certain with just a visual exam, but if we can get them back to the lab, I can be more specific".

I stare at the bodies for a moment. "I don't think we're going to be taking anything back to a lab," I say, before looking up as I hear a noise coming from the upper floor of the house. It sounds as if something is scratching at the wood.

"Termites?" I say hopefully, turning to Constance.

"Let's get out of here," she says, grabbing my arm. Her panic, which has been bubbling under the surface since we found Patrick, is now close to boiling over.

"Not yet," I say. "There's something he wants us to understand".

"Over there!" she replies suddenly, pointing at one of the other bodies.

"What about it?" I ask.

"I could have sworn its hand was resting on its waist a moment ago, but now it's down by the side".

"Maybe it slipped," I say, although I don't really believe the explanation myself. To be honest, I didn't notice much about the way the bodies were positioned, and I'm not convinced that Constance is a reliable witness. In her panic, she's probably just imagined that something changed.

"I
really
don't like this," she says, her voice wavering.

I look over at Patrick. Once again, he walks through to the next room as soon as he's sure that I've seen him. "He wants us to go with him," I say, heading across to the door. Constance sticks close to me, even though she clearly wants to get out of here as fast as possible. I guess the one thing
more
scary than exploring this place with me would be to stand around alone outside. As we go through to the hallway, I see that Patrick has started going up the stairs. He's walking slowly, as if he wants to make sure that we keep up.

"We can't go up there," Constance hisses at me. "You heard that noise!"

"You're welcome to wait here," I tell her, before starting to follow Patrick up to the next floor. "Whatever we find, I'm ready for it. Trust me".

"There's something alive up there!" she says, panicking. "Come on, let's just get out of here, get in touch with Benjamin and get reinforcements! We can be back here in a couple of hours, with a full tactical team to take this fucking place apart room by room!"

"It's okay," I insist. "I'm trained for situations like this, and I trust him!"

"You trust
him
?" she asks incredulously, looking up at Patrick as he reaches the top of the stairs. "He killed your sister!"

"I know how his mind works," I tell her. "He's not leading us up here to put us in danger. He wants to show us something. I promise you, this is going to be okay. Just stay calm and don't panic. The worst thing you can do is lose control". Without waiting for her to reply, I turn and follow Patrick up the stairs. By the time I get to the top, Constance has decided to join me, and we walk along to a doorway where Patrick is waiting.

Inside the next room, there's another mummified body, but I realize with horror that this one is alive. It's clearly no threat, since it can do little more than scrabble about on the floor, its long finger-nails scratching the wood. A large black manacle is wrapped around one of its legs, chaining it to the wall. Hearing us, the creature looks straight in our direction but its eye sockets are hollow. Slowly, it opens its mouth, but no sound comes out.

"What happened here?" I ask, turning to Patrick. "Why are you showing us this? I don't get it".

He stares straight at me, as if he expects me to magically understand what's going on.

"Give me a clue!" I continue, looking back at the pitiful creature as it slows tries to crawl toward us. "Did you do this to these people? Is this
your
work?"

"For fuck's sake!" Constance says angrily, pushing me aside and walking into the room. Before I can stop her, she fires a gunshot directly into the creature's face. With blood pouring from the wound, the creature stops moving and appears to finally be dead. "You can't leave something like that alive," Constance says, turning to me. "It's inhumane. It's just like torturing someone".

"We could have helped it," I say.

"No," she replies, "we couldn't. There was nothing in that thing's future other than pain and misery. I couldn't watch it suffer".

I step toward the dead creature, making sure to keep a safe distance just in case it has any last surprises. Whatever happened to this person, it's clear that their final moments were a horrific nightmare. Someone has been carrying out experiments here, and it's obvious that Patrick isn't responsible. Then again, why has he brought us here? If it were just about revenge, or about stopping this stuff from happening, I'm quite sure he could have done all of that by himself. Apparently, though, he wants
us
to do something, but I'm at a loss to work out
what
.

"Where do you think you're going?" Constance says behind me. I turn to see that she's aimed her gun at Patrick, who has walked over to the door.

"Put that down," I say to her. "It won't achieve anything".

Although her hands are shaking, she keeps the gun pointed straight at Patrick. "This sick bastard brought us here to gloat with him," she says. "He probably thinks it's funny to tear people up and then turn them into these things. This is probably the funniest thing he's ever seen". She rests her finger against the trigger. "Life isn't something to be played with. Life is precious".

"Calm down," I say.

"No!" she shouts at me. "You calm down! I've had enough of this! We came out here to find him, and we've found him. Now we're taking him back with us, and he has two choices. Either he comes with us willingly, or we make him come". She pauses for a moment. "Which is it going to be?" she asks, facing Patrick. "Are you going to make this harder than it has to be?"

"What do you think you're going to do?" I ask. "Shoot a vampire? You need to calm down".

"Stop saying that!" she replies. "Stop telling me to calm down!"

"You can't shoot him!" I tell her. "Do you really think that's going to work?"

"He's weak," she replies. "You said it yourself. I can't kill him, but maybe I can incapacitate him". With no warning, she first straight at Patrick, hitting him square in the chest. He falls backward, steadying himself against the door-frame. Quickly firing again, she hits him in the shoulder and he drops to the ground. Finally, she shoots him three more times.

"That's enough!" I shout, grabbing the gun. "Okay! You've done it! Now calm down!"

"How long will he be down?" she asks.

"Normally, about twenty seconds," I reply, reloading the gun from my own supply of ammunition. "In this state, considerably longer". I turn to her. "You didn't have to do that".

"We came to get him," she says firmly. "We got him. Now we send a digital flare signal and get back-up here".

"You have a flare?" I ask.

"Benjamin gave it to me," she says, pulling a small device from her pocket. "He said to use it if we find Patrick. He said..." She pauses. "Never mind".

"What did he say?" I ask. Something's not right here.

"He said I might not be able to trust you," she says, walking over to the top of the stairs. "He said you might double-cross us and try to take Patrick with you".

I sigh. Benjamin's always been an astute old buzzard, but I thought he genuinely trusted me. Now it seems he's got his suspicions about my motives. I guess maybe he's right.

"You can trust me," I say, walking toward Constance.

"Stop!" he shouts, pulling the spare gun from her belt. "I have authorization to shoot you if necessary".

"Me?" I ask, shocked. I can see from the look in her eyes that she's highly-strung, and I can't trust that she'll necessarily make the right decisions. She's not someone who usually operates in pressure situations, which makes it doubly strange that Benjamin even sent her with me in the first place. There's still something I don't quite understand about what's happening. "You're not going to shoot me, Constance," I say.

"Let's hope not," she replies firmly, "but if you come any closer, I'll drop you. I won't aim to kill, but I'll drop you in your tracks". Keeping the gun trained on me, she starts fumbling to activate the digital flare.

I look down at Patrick. He's healing slowly, but he's still too weak to get up. We make eye contact for a moment, and I see the pain in his eyes. I don't feel sorry for him, though. No matter how much this hurts, it's nothing compared to the pain Sophie must have felt when this monster killed her. I can't imagine how many people he's probably killed in his lifetime, but it's kind of appropriate that he should suffer real pain toward the end.

"Do you know how to activate these things?" Constance asks, still fiddling with the flare.

"Give it to me," I say, looking over at her.

"No chance," she replies. "Don't worry, I think I've got it".

"It should have a -" I start to say, before noticing that the flare isn't actually a flare at all. "Constance," I say, feeling a sense of absolute horror growing in my gut, "that's not a flare. Don't -"

It's too late. She manages to activate it. There's a brief pause, and then it happens: a massive explosion blows out this entire side of the house. I turn and try to shield my face as the blast smashes me straight through the wall and everything goes black. My last thought is: I can't die yet; I have to see Sophie one more time first.

Chapter Four

Denver, Colorado - Six years ago.

The Seagram Institute is located just outside Denver, close to the airport, and it's by no means an easy place to get to. No buses run close by, and the taxi drivers all seem a little reluctant to head out that way. Eventually I find one guy who says he'll take me if I pay double-fare, and even then he seems kind of nervous. I figure I have no choice, so I take him up on his offer and we set off on the short drive. He barely says a word to me all the way, as we drive beyond the city limits. It's almost as if he's scared.

Eventually a large industrial complex appears on the horizon, and the taxi driver pulls up next to a gate. He tells me this is as far as he's willing to go, and that I'll have to walk the last couple of miles. Reluctantly paying him for this rather incomplete service, I get out of the taxi and watch as he drives away. As I turn and head through the gate, I notice a small camera turning to track my every move.

Strangely, though, there seems to be very little obvious security around this place. I'm not stopped once on the road that leads to the main building, and no-one challenges me as I walk through the door. I go to the reception desk and explain why I'm here, and I'm directed to sit over by the window and wait for someone to come and meet me. A few minutes later, as I'm staring out at the view, I hear footsteps coming closer and I turn to see an elderly man limping in my direction. It takes me a moment to realize that I've seen him before, and a moment longer to realize that he's the man who spoke to me at Sophie's funeral.

"Todd Hart?" he asks, smiling as he reaches out a hand for me to shake. "It's been a while, but I'm glad you were finally able to make it".

"Hi," I say, standing up. "I... Benjamin, right?"

"I'm flattered you remember me," he says. "It's been a long time since your sister's unfortunate passing".

"Almost ten years," I reply.