Dead Statues (3 page)

“No!”

Then louder.

“No! Potter!”

Louder still. Almost a scream.

“No! Potter...

“...Potter!” Kiera cried out.

I opened my eyes. Kiera was standing by the carriage door which was now open. Wind blew her long, dark hair about her face and shoulders. With my dream breaking apart into tiny fragments, I stumbled to my feet and went to her.

I felt sick with guilt, even though I had only been dreaming. Sophie and Eloisa hadn’t been real – they had just come back to haunt me. Just as Murphy had. All of them had come back to remind me I was keeping secrets from the woman I loved.

“What’s wrong?” I said over the roar of the passing wind which buffeted the side of the train.

“The picture!” Kiera cried.

“Picture?” I frowned, the last remaining shards of my nightmare blinding me.

“The picture of me and my dad,” she said, leaning out of the open carriage and back along the tracks. “It flew out of the door.”

“How?” I asked, scratching my head, still feeling a little groggy.

“I don’t know!” Kiera snapped. “It was like it was snatched out of my hand somehow.

Taken away from me.”

I looked at her, tears standing in the corners of her eyes. It hurt me to see the pain she felt at losing that picture of her dad. However much I hated it myself, I also felt relieved, too.

Perhaps now, without the picture as a constant reminder, Kiera’s desire to go looking for her father might lessen. Deep inside of me, I doubted that. Had I been able to stop myself looking for Sophie? No. However much I told myself I had gone in search of Sophie to try and find out if she knew why the world had been
pushed
, I knew that was just a bunch of crap. That’s why I had dreamt of her. She hadn’t come back to haunt my dreams, my guilt had. That’s what was eating me up inside.

I looked at Kiera standing by the open carriage door as she peered back along the track for any sign of that picture, which had meant so much to her. The pain in her eyes told me she was going to go in search of her father – picture or no picture. Now I’m not known for my sensitive side, but to see that look of desperation in her eyes – panic – crushed me, and I just wanted to tell her everything. I didn’t want to keep those fucking secrets that Murphy had crapped on me from such a great height. I wanted to be honest with Kiera, I owed her that. She should know that her father was still alive, that cancer hadn’t eaten him like it had before the world had been
pushed
. Didn’t she have a right to know?

“She has no rights!” Murphy
whispered in my ear. “She doesn’t have the
right to be here – none of us do.”

What would Kiera think of me if I told her now? What would she think of me if she knew I had met Murphy again during those twenty-four hours that I had been away from Hallowed Manor? She’d want to know why I hadn’t told her that Murphy was alive, and why I had kept it a secret from her. Worse still, Kiera would want to know why I hadn’t told her about her dad.

I moved slowly towards her, and taking her in my arms, she rested her head against my chest. “I’m sorry,” I whispered.

“It’s not your fault,” she said, thinking I was talking about the picture.

As I held her close in my arms, I felt the train begin to slow. I didn’t want it to stop just yet, I wanted to keep moving so I could stay and hold her close to me. Then, looking over her shoulder I watched the night sky as it flashed with pulses of luminous blue light. The Skin-walkers disguised as cops had caught up with us, and the train was slowing so they could greet us.

Kiera

“We’ve got company,” Potter whispered in my ear.

“Huh?” I breathed, pulling away from him.

“Skin-walkers,” he snapped, stretching out his fingers and setting his claws free like a row of knives. “Wake the others.”

I looked back out of the carriage door as the train came to a juddering halt. A plume of thick, black diesel smoke belched from the engine and up into the dawn sky. The train had stopped at a level crossing, and on either side of the road, police vehicles were parked with their emergency lights flashing red and blue like streaks of lightning.

Some of the Skin-walkers, dressed as cops, had left their vehicles and were now walking alongside the tracks and checking the train for us. Cones of torchlight splashed the sides of the train, and I could hear the sounds of their boots crunching over the ballast.

Slowly, I eased the carriage door shut.

Then, turning on the heels of my boots, I darted across to the wagon. I shook Kayla gently by the shoulder, and whispered, “Wake up.”

Kayla stirred and I shook her again. She opened her eyes and looked up at me. Before she’d had the chance to say anything, I gently placed my hand over her mouth.

“Shhh. Skin-walkers are searching the train,” I told her.

Brushing my hand aside, Kayla pulled herself up, and producing her claws as quickly as Potter had, she looked at me and said, “Good. I want to mess with those fuckers for what they did to Isidor.”

“That’s my girl,” Potter smirked, then kicked Sam in the ribs with his boot. “Rise and shine, Teen-Wolf. It’s time you proved which side you’re on.”

Sam howled in pain and threw his hands to his sides.

“Nice one!” I glared at Potter. “Why don’t you just stick a big neon sign above the carriage saying ‘We are here’?”

“I hardly touched him,” Potter said. Then looking down at Sam, he added, “You’d better man-up or wolf-out, boy, because some of your furry friends are getting ready to tear us all a new set of arseholes!”

Sam pulled himself up as Kayla took his arm to support him. Unlike the other Skin-walkers, who looked either human or werewolf when changed, Sam looked stuck somewhere in between. Long, thick lengths of dark brown hair hung from his head, his cheeks, and chin. His eyes glowed yellow, and his teeth were jagged and sharp-looking in his mouth. His long arms swung down by his sides, and I could see that just like the rest of him, they were covered in thick, dark brown, bristly hair. Each of his fingers was capped with ivory-looking nails that were sharp and pointed.

“Are you okay?” I asked him.

“Fine,” he said, glaring at Potter.

“You shouldn’t have kicked him like that,”

Kayla hissed.

“He’s one of them,” Potter snapped back.

“No, he’s not,” Kayla shot.

“Really?” Potter barked. Then turning his attention back at Sam, he added. “Did you sue him?”

“Sue who?” Sam asked confused.

“Your fucking hairdresser,” Potter grinned rolling up his sleeves, readying himself for the Skin-walkers who were growing ever nearer. “If I came out looking like you with hair and shit sprouting outta me, I’d be demanding a refund.”

“That’s not funny!” Kayla cut in, defending her friend.

“Good,” Potter snapped at her, “because I wasn’t trying to be amusing. All I’m trying to say is, once a wolf always a wolf. Just because he looks semi-human, doesn’t make him one.

However hard you try Kayla, you can’t polish a turd.”

“I’m not a piece of shit!” Sam barked at him, his eyes glowing fiercely.

“Glad to hear it,” Potter smiled at him.

“Because now you’re gonna get a chance to prove it.” No sooner had the words left his mouth then Potter had yanked aside the carriage door.

As if surprised to see Potter there, the Skin-walkers outside glanced up at him and roared.

With their hands turning into claws, the Skin-walkers ripped their police uniforms from their bodies and threw themselves at the side of the train. As they leapt through the air, their human forms took on the shape of giant wolves.

One moment their bodies were pale, almost undernourished-looking, and in the next, they were rippling with muscle, covered in coats of shiny, black fur, their heads like that of giant wolves with gaping jaws.

As the wolves leapt at Potter, he glanced at me, and with a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, he whispered, “What you waiting for, sweet-cheeks?”

Then he was gone, throwing himself free of the carriage, and clattering into the wolves.

Potter

I don’t know why, but tearing up wolves made me smile. I’m not sure whether it was the thrill of it, or if there wasn’t just a little part of me that enjoyed the killing. After all, I was a Vampyrus, and you couldn’t polish a turd, right?

With a grin that I guess made me look a little crazy, I sprang from the side of the train carriage, driving my right claw into the foaming snout of one of the Skin-walkers, my left slicing away the head of another. Their blood splattered up my forearms in hot, sticky streams and I knew I had stepped over that line again. The line which separated my human side to that of my darker – Vampyrus – side. My wings shifted beneath the flesh that covered my back, eager to be set free. If I released them, I would have to kill every single one of these motherfuckers. I couldn’t risk one of them reporting back what they had seen. As the Skin-walkers flew away in strips of fur and flesh, I thought of Isidor standing alone in the railway station waiting room as those Skin-walkers crept up on him from behind. In my mind I could see them attack and kill my friend. As I relived the moment Isidor’s head split from his neck and flew wide-eyed across the waiting room, I knew that I had no intention of letting one of these sorry-looking arseholes live. So with a shrug of my shoulders, I felt my coat tear open along my spine.

My skin made a cracking sound as my wings unfolded from within me, and my mouth gushed with blood as my fangs slid from my gums. With my wings beating furiously on either side of me, two of the Skin-walkers, who were now racing towards me along the tracks, faltered. They looked at one another as if unable to believe what it was they were seeing.

“That’s right, you pathetic bitches in heat,” I roared at them. “You didn’t really think I would let you kill my friend and just walk away, did you?”

The Skin-walkers, in their finely-pressed police uniforms, looked at each other again, then back at me. My long, black wings trailed in the ballast as I walked slowly towards them. Their human faces still looked shocked, as if I had slapped them already. I flexed open my claws, blood flying from them. Then one of the cops snatched his radio from his belt.

“Release the berserkers!” he roared.

Before he’d had the chance to fix his radio back in place, the air was filled with the most ear-piercing screech I had ever heard. In a streak of black shadows, the cop was snatched up into the air. As he rocketed upwards, he clawed frantically at his uniform as he changed form.

Momentarily wondering if in fact these Skin-walkers could actually fly themselves, I saw the black shadow which flickered all around him take shape. Kayla came into view, and I could see that she had sunk her claws into the chest of the Skin-walker that now dangled beneath her as she hovered high up. Her wings glistened in the light of the rising sun, and the glittery-like substance which covered them shone red and pink. Her hair billowed out behind her like flames, as she threw her head forward and sunk her face into the creature’s chest. In one swift movement, she yanked her head back and I could see Kayla had something round and black hanging from her mouth, and it beat rapidly in and out. With thick streams of blood swinging from her chin, she snatched the Skin-walker’s heart from between her jaws and rammed it into the creature’s mouth.

“That’s for Isidor,” she screeched, then tossed the dead Skin-walker away through the air.

Distracted by Kayla, I hadn’t noticed the other cop tear away its flesh and transform into the giant wolf, which was now leaping through the air towards me. I thrust my claws out before me, but there was no need. The wolf suddenly flew backwards through the air in a mass of flowing hair and fur. Sam howled as he bounded into the Skin-walker. With his arms working like pistons, he lunged, ripped, and clawed at the Skin-walker as they flew through the air. The Skin-walker fought back, as it snapped its mighty jaws just inches from Sam’s face. With a roar so loud it sounded like an express train racing through a tunnel, Sam went berserk. With ferocity I had only seen my friend Murphy capable of, Sam gutted, then shredded the Skin-walker in a blaze of flashing claws and teeth.

In the distance I could see more flashing blue lights approaching. The group of Skin-walkers, who had arrived in the first wave of emergency vehicles, were now racing along the tracks towards us. They bounded forward on all fours, tearing away their uniforms as they changed in a blinding flash of muscle and fur. They were huge, like giant bears, and their pointed paws threw up great plumes of ballast and chalky white dust. Two of them leapt at the side of the train and I glanced up to see what had drawn their attention. In one swift bound, they had both landed on the roof of the train, where Kiera was running along the top of it. Like my own, her wings were out. Both were angled upwards, and the claws at each tip snatched at the air. Her thick, black hair trailed out behind her, and as always in her half-breed form, it shone blue in thick silky streaks.

Her beautiful face looked pale in the weak winter sunlight which was now shining over the tops of the mountain peaks in the distance. I watched Kiera race along the roof of the train as the Skin-walker bounded towards her. With my own wings thrumming on either side of me, I leapt into the air and soared towards her. The cold air blew my hair from my face, and I knew that however hard I pushed myself forward, I wouldn’t reach Kiera before the wolves were upon her. Then, just as the wolves swiped at her with their massive hooked claws, Kiera flipped through the air, dragging her long, bladed fingernails down the lengths of their backs. The creatures howled and span around, screaming over the roof of the train as they fought to hold on. As they turned, the long, ragged gashes Kiera had opened down the lengths of their backs popped open like a bulging seam, spilling their innards and entrails from them. As I swooped in towards Kiera, I saw one of the wolves collapse onto its side, his huge jaws open as it lay panting, desperately sucking in his last mouthful of air. The other seemed not to know what had happened to it, and the wolf took two more giant bounds back towards Kiera before its paws got entangled in its own entrails. The wolf made a yelping sound as it slipped and tripped on its own guts. Making a gargling sound in the back of its throat, the wolf fell from the roof of the carriage, but its intestines had become ensnared and the creature swung like a giant blood-red pendulum alongside the train.