The Book With No Name (34 page)

Kacy thought hard. Dante was never especially convincing when trying to get her to do stuff she was unsure about. And she was really unsure about this. But she loved him, and she knew that she would go along with his plan. And he knew it, too.

‘I love you, honey,’ was all she said.

Rather than admit that she agreed with him, she could always just say ‘I love you’ and he would know that she was
going to do as he wanted.

‘I love you too,’ he smiled. ‘Everything will be all right, babe. Trust me, we’re finally gonna get lucky. Something really great is gonna happen tomorrow, I can feel it. We can start a brand-new life together after I’ve sold that blue stone to the monks, then you an’ me, we can spend the rest of our lives spendin’. We’ve worked hard for a break like this, an’ we deserve it.’

Kacy loved Dante when he was like this. His enthusiasm and complete confidence that everything would be all right was a huge turn-on for her. She also knew that he could read her like a book, so he could see she was hot for him. She didn’t need even to speak again and give her approval, for Dante just grabbed her and pushed her down on to the bed. They spent the next forty-five minutes fucking like a couple who had not seen each other in months.

Afterwards, as they lay together underneath the bedclothes, Dante repeatedly kissed the back of Kacy’s neck, telling her how much he loved her. She fell asleep with his arms draped around her, praying that it wouldn’t be the last time she felt the warmth of his body against hers. Her greatest fear was that he might have got them in over their heads this time. Sometimes, his fearlessness bordered on recklessness. And this time lives were at stake.

Kyle and Peto had waved goodbye to Dante as he left the bar. He had just nodded back at them and walked out. This left them with the opportunity to discuss what they thought of him, and it also left them with a table to themselves. Neither of them had noticed that the Nightjar had become a lot busier during the time they had spent talking to the pleasant young man who called himself Dante.

‘Do you think he was telling the truth?’ Peto asked Kyle, hoping for an affirmative answer.

‘You know what, Peto?’ Kyle replied. ‘I actually think he was. I know we’re probably a bit too trusting, but I genuinely believe he was an honest and helpful man.’

‘I agree. Shall we have an alcoholic drink to celebrate?’

Kyle thought about the suggestion. Peto was clearly itching to try out an alcoholic drink, and if he was honest with himself, he was curious to taste one, too. So what the heck, right?

‘Very well, then. Just one though, and no one but us two will ever know, okay? It’ll be our secret.’

‘Great. What shall we have? Beer or whisky … or bourbon?’

‘We are not having bourbon. Lord knows what that might do to us. If we’ve learnt anything these last few days, it’s that bourbon is the drink of the Devil. Let’s have a beer. That’s what Rodeo Rex was drinking, and he’s a nice fellow.’

‘I think it’s what our new friend Dante was drinking, too.’

‘Beer it is then. I’ll go and get them, Peto. You sit here and
watch my seat.’

‘Okay.’

Peto was excited. He had now seen plenty of other people drinking and generally being jolly, and he was keen to experience it for himself. What he didn’t realize, however, was that in just a few minutes time he was actually going to need a stiff drink. He could not have known it, but Peto was in for the greatest five-minute eye opener of his (so far) sheltered life.

The Nightjar was full of quiet corners and alcoves where shady characters could hide away and watch other people as they drank. Apart from strangers, who were pretty much universally detested, new arrivals in town like Kyle and Peto tended to draw attention to themselves unwittingly. Rodeo Rex had warned them of this, but they had not realized just how serious his warning had been.

Once Kyle had made his way to the bar, a number of sleazy characters began to eye up the naive-looking young man sitting alone at the table, waiting for his companion to return with their drinks. Two of these lurking watchers, a step ahead of the rest, soon appeared from the shadows. Wordlessly, they pulled up chairs at Peto’s table and sat down on either side of him. Both of them were wearing long black coats with the collars turned up. Both also wore unusual necklaces on which were strung teeth that looked as though they had formerly belonged to some seriously carnivorous wild beasts. The first of the two men, a greasy, unshaven lowlife with long, straggly dark hair, leaned over the table to speak to Peto. He had piercing green eyes that looked deep into the young monk’s not-so-piercing brown ones.

‘Well, well, well,’ he said. ‘Look what we’ve got here, Milo. It’s young Peto, if I’m not mistaken.’

His companion leaned forward a little, as if taking a closer look at Peto’s face.

‘Is that so, Hezekiah?’ he said in a mocking tone.

Milo had long, greasy blond hair and was of similar build to Hezekiah, but his eyes were a very disconcerting red. As he
leaned over and grinned at Peto, the young monk got a good look at his horrible large yellow teeth, and smelled a good waft of his foul breath. Peto was distinctly unimpressed by the unclean look of both their faces, which was well complemented by their scruffy clothing. These two men could quite easily be living rough on the street, he thought. They were unutterably filthy, as were there clothes, and they stank horribly. Peto, of course, was not one to judge people he didn’t know, and besides, they seemed to know him, so there was no reason not to be friendly … was there?

‘How do you know who I am?’ he asked the one with the green eyes who had referred to him by name.

‘You don’t remember us, do you?’ Hezekiah replied with a smirk.

‘No. I’m sorry. I don’t.’

‘Don’t you worry, son. Your friend Kyle, he’ll know us.’

‘Oh good. Friends of his, are you?’

‘Yes. That’s right, isn’t it, Milo? We’re friends of Kyle’s, aren’t we?’

‘Yes, Hezekiah. We’re friends of Kyle.
Good
friends.’

It was then that it suddenly dawned on Peto that he recognized the names.

‘Wait a second,’ he blurted out, ‘you’re Milo and Hezekiah?’ He looked at them in bewilderment.

When, a moment later, Kyle came back with two bottles of beer and took his place at the table, he had no idea who Peto’s new companions were. It didn’t take him long to find out, however. Recognition dawned as soon as he heard Hezekiah’s voice. The two had been great friends before Hezekiah had left Hubal. Only now, the creature Kyle saw before him was very different from the fresh-faced young monk who had set out from Hubal five long years ago.

‘
My God! Hezekiah!
’ Kyle blurted out. ‘You’re alive! And is this Milo? I can’t believe it! And you’ve got hair! Wow, it’s so long. You look so different. What have you been doing?’

Hezekiah picked up the bottle of beer Kyle had put on the table for himself and took a mouthful from it before carefully
setting it back down. His reply was one long sneer.

‘Drinking, fornicating, stealing, killing … Basically, everything Father Taos taught us not to do.’

There was something sinister about his tone, and Kyle was not sure what to make of it. This wasn’t the same Hezekiah he had grown up with. As young monks learning about life they had been good friends. Hezekiah was a year older than Kyle, and had always been a step ahead of him in everything. This had made Kyle a little envious of him at times, but it was also one of the main reasons why he had nothing but respect for his old friend. In his younger days he had always viewed Hezekiah as a yardstick by which to judge his own progress as a monk. Now, seeing his former colleague before him, he felt he should be overjoyed, but this shabby, sneering parody of a monk seemed just like every other man in Santa Mondega. Kyle’s every instinct was warning him that Hezekiah was untrustworthy and unpredictable, two traits that he especially hated. But he was still an old friend, and Kyle was not given to judging a man unfairly, especially one he had known before he’d been able to walk.

‘So why haven’t you come back to Hubal?’ he asked. ‘Everyone thinks you’re dead.’

The corners of Hezekiah’s mouth curled up to show off his unpleasant toothy smile.

‘To all intents and purposes I am dead, and so is Milo. Father Taos cut us loose … or didn’t he tell you?’

‘Erm, no. No, he didn’t mention it.’

‘What a surprise,’ Milo muttered under his breath, although just loud enough for everyone at the table to hear. Immediately, both Kyle and Peto were reminded of what Rodeo Rex had told them earlier. It was beginning to look as though he really might be right. Maybe Father Taos had withheld some of the truth. In fact, there was no ‘maybe’ about it. He had told them that the two monks he had sent from Hubal five years ago were dead. Hezekiah, meanwhile, had no intention of waiting for Kyle and Peto to piece it all together on their own.

‘Look,’ he said, gently tapping a long, filthy fingernail into the fleshy part of Kyle’s right shoulder. ‘You’re not welcome in this town. Get out, and get out now. We know why you’re here, but forget it. The Eye is beyond your reach, and even if it weren’t, your lives would be over if you ever succeeded in retrieving it.’

This was one of those occasions when Peto was extremely grateful that Kyle was the senior party, and as such had responsibility for asking the questions. The novice was able to sit back and try to take everything in while his brother did all the thinking.

‘What do you mean?’ Kyle asked. ‘Hezekiah, what has happened to you?’

‘Milo and I have seen the dark side, Kyle. There’s no turning back for us. You, on the other hand, have a chance. Get out of Santa Mondega tonight and don’t ever come back. Tomorrow the Lord of Darkness will return and claim the city back for the undead. If you’re still here, you will become one of them. You don’t want that, believe me.’

‘But Hezekiah,’ Kyle countered, ‘with you and Milo on our side we’re more than a match for anyone. It would be a truly heroic homecoming for you to return to Hubal with us – and with the Eye.’

Hezekiah shook his head, but he also quickly retracted his hand from the other’s shoulder and used it to hold Milo back, as if he thought he was about to lunge at Kyle. He fixed his former friend once more with his piercing green eyes.

‘Listen to me, Kyle. Don’t make this any harder than it is already. We can never return to Hubal. Father Taos saw to that. He has a dark side of his own, you know, and when Milo and I found out his dirty secret, he cut us down and left us for the vultures. Don’t doubt me, Kyle. He double-crossed us and took the Eye of the Moon back to Hubal himself. Yet we were the ones that found the Eye. We were supposed to be the ones returning home covered in glory, but he had other ideas. He’ll do the same to you, Kyle … and you too, Peto. He’ll cut you loose. Once you’ve left Hubal there’s no going back.’
He paused, then asked, ‘How many monks do you know who have ever left Hubal and returned?’

In Kyle’s lifetime, only one monk had ever left the safe haven of Hubal for more than a day and returned alive.

‘Just one,’ he replied. ‘Father Taos. All of the others were unable to cope with the dangers of the outside world. That’s why they did not return.’

‘Do you think that’s why Milo and I didn’t return?’

‘Well, no … I mean … I don’t know.’

‘Face it, Kyle, you don’t know anything. Just like Milo and I knew nothing when we left Hubal. We knew nothing until we met the man they called … the Bourbon Kid.’

Hezekiah’s voice quietened to a whisper when he mentioned the Bourbon Kid. Those two words were never to be spoken aloud in the Nightjar, out of respect for the dead.

‘The Bourbon Kid?’ said Kyle out loud. ‘What does he have to do with all this?’

BANG
!

For a moment, the gunshot deafened almost everyone in the bar. Then a widespread panic broke out. All of the customers who had been drinking quietly at their tables, minding their own business, suddenly burst into movement. Yet, Hezekiah was the first to react. He sprang to his feet, turning to confront the gunman who had just fired a bullet into Milo’s chest.

Now standing, Milo, like a punch-drunk boxer, was staggering backwards from his chair, shrieking. The chair toppled over on to its side, nearly bringing him down with it. He was struggling to maintain his balance, and at the same time doing his utmost to hold one hand over the gaping hole in his chest. Stunned into immobility, Kyle and Peto just sat and watched, frozen in their seats like statues.

Milo was struggling for breath. There was blood pouring from his chest and mouth, spraying out all over his long black coat and also over those unfortunate enough to be near him. Most disturbingly of all, though, his eyes had turned black and his face was beginning to change. Right before their
eyes, Milo was transforming into a creature of the night … a vampire … But a dying vampire, one that was decaying, turning to dust, and fast heading for the gates of Hell.

In contrast, Hezekiah had turned into a full-on bloodsucker almost instantaneously. He now looked a far more fearsome proposition than the shuffling, tramp-like mess that had been scowling at the two monks not more than a few seconds before. He was standing up straight, shoulders back, fangs out on display, squaring up to the gunman. The man in front of him was a walking mass of rippling muscles wearing black leather pants and jacket and a sleeveless black Helloween T-shirt. Kyle and Peto had little difficulty in recognizing him as Rodeo Rex.