The Book With No Name (51 page)

Somers looked a little tetchy as he walked past the front of the squad car and over to the driver’s side. Jensen thought about reaching over and locking the door.
No need. Somers doesn’t know I’m pretty sure he’s the killer. I’ve got time to think. Now think … for FUCKSAKES!

Somers opened the door and climbed in behind the steering wheel. ‘You okay?’ he asked, observing his partner’s attempt to look calm.

‘Yeah, fine. You?’

‘Yeah, I’m all right. Didn’t find out much in there, though.’ He peered across at his partner and said, ‘You sure you’re okay?’

‘Yeah yeah,’ Jensen said impatiently. ‘I’m just pissed off, y’know? I think we missed our chance. We should probably check in with the Captain. See if he’s heard anything?’

Somers looked down at Jensen’s right hand, which was tightly clenching his cellphone. Then he looked up into his eyes. Jensen couldn’t hide the frightened look deep within them.

‘You know, don’t you?’ said Somers softly, barely moving his lips.

‘Know what?’

There was a horrible pause. Jensen knew in that moment that Scraggs had been right. Somers was the killer. And Somers now knew that he knew. Their friendship was to count for nothing. Time was up. Somers forced an apologetic smile.

‘I’m sorry, Jensen. It’s nothing personal, but I need the Eye of the Moon.’

‘But the eclipse is over. You’ve missed it.’

‘I know. But that stone is capable of much more than just
stopping the moon. It can also bring my boys back to me. And my wife. That stone can restore her to her former self in next to no time. If that lousy Bourbon Kid hadn’t shot them all down, I wouldn’t have had to do this. I’m sorry.’

CLICK. The central-locking system on the squad car made Jensen a prisoner instantly. Not that there was likely to be any escape from this situation, anyway. Not without some sort of miracle.

Jensen took a look at Somers’s fingers, which were now resting on the steering wheel. They were slowly increasing in length. His fingernails, too. They became thicker, longer and sharper. With extreme alarm he saw that his partner’s face was also changing. Blue veins were appearing, first in his neck, then in his cheeks, and they were bulging. They needed to be filled with blood. The blood of Miles Jensen. Somers turned his head towards his partner and opened his mouth to reveal a set of teeth, huge yellow fangs that made it hard to imagine how, before, he had been able to keep his mouth shut. These were jagged and razor-sharp. A foul stench permeated the car. Too late, Jensen fumbled for his gun.

‘
You may want to close your eyes, my friend
,’ Somers hissed in a voice that came straight from the uttermost depths of Hell. ‘
This is gonna hurt …
’

The police radio crackled into life. The voice of Amy Webster came through the speaker.

‘Detective Somers, you there?’

‘I’m here,’ said Somers, picking up the mike with his right hand.

‘I need you to come back to the station.’

‘I’m kinda busy.’

‘You’re going to want to see this, sir.’

Somers eased his foot off the accelerator a little, causing the body of Miles Jensen to slump forward and bang against the dashboard. He had been speeding down the highway out of town for less than five minutes since killing his partner. His plan was to catch up with the driver of the yellow Cadillac, who, if he had any sense, would be on this strip of road and heading out of Santa Mondega for ever. There was no other traffic in sight, in either direction.

‘What is it, Amy?’ Somers replied to the familiar voice of the switchboard operator at police headquarters.

‘I’ve got this big blue diamond in front of me. Someone just handed it in.’

Somers slammed on the brakes and, as the protesting squad car squealed to a stop, pulled a three-point turn in the middle of the deserted highway.

‘Where did this big diamond come from?’ he yelled into the mouthpiece.

‘A guy just dropped it off. Said it was for Detective Jensen. I can’t get hold of Jensen on his mobile, though, so I thought I’d give you a call instead.’

‘You thought right, Amy. I’ll get you promoted for this. Just hide that stone away until I get there. I’ll be twenty minutes.’

‘Yes, sir.’

Somers reached over to the dashboard to replace the radio mike. Just as he was about to click it off a thought struck him.

‘Amy, does anyone else know about this yet?’

There was a pause. A slightly longer pause than necessary, he thought.

‘No, sir. You’re the only person I’ve spoken to ’bout it.’

‘Good. Keep it that way.’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Oh, and Amy? This man who handed it in, did he have a name?’

Again an unnecessary pause.

‘No, sir, he didn’t leave a name. He was in a hurry.’

‘I see.’ Somers was intrigued, and although he had no reason to doubt Amy Webster, who had always been an honest employee (a rare thing in the Santa Mondega police department), he couldn’t help his suspicious nature.

‘What did this man look like?’

Again that slight, unhealthy pause.

‘Er … I don’t know really. He was kinda average-looking. Short hair, blue eyes. I’ve never seen him before.’

‘Okay, Amy. That’ll be all. I’ll see you shortly.’

Somers stamped his foot down on the accelerator and headed back into town with the siren blaring. He barely noticed the cab that passed him in the opposite direction. It was taking Dante and Kacy out of Santa Mondega to a place where they would eventually find the happiness together that they longed for. The Lord of the Undead had more pressing matters at hand than checking out the passengers of the local taxi companies. He needed to get to the Eye of the Moon very quickly if he was to have any chance of bringing Jessica back anytime soon.

There might even be hope for his sons, El Santino, Carlito and Miguel.

*

Amy Webster put the microphone she had been speaking into back down on her desk. Her hands were still shaking. The hooded man standing in front of her and aiming a shotgun directly at her forehead had been dictating to her what to say in response to the questions Detective Somers had asked. She had repeated his words exactly. It didn’t look like it had pleased him much, though. He still looked like he was about to kill her, and judging by his reputation he probably would. Although there was no sign of any bourbon, so she guessed she had a chance.

‘You’ve done well,’ he said.

‘Thank you,’ said Amy, her voice trembling with fear. ‘But Archie Somers will kill me when he finds out I’ve lied to him.’

‘I wouldn’t worry about Somers, if I were you. You’ll never see that sonofabitch again.’

‘But he’s coming here
now
isn’t he?’

‘Yeah … but
you’ll
never see him again.’

Amy shut her eyes. Maybe he was kidding. Maybe he would just disappear.

BANG!

Maybe not.

Somers walked into the reception area of the police headquarters. He had been through here a million times. It had never looked like this, though. Bloodstained bodies of officers and secretaries were slumped over desks and scattered around the floor. A few criminals still in handcuffs appeared to have been shot down, too. This was a massacre. At least forty bodies in the foyer. He spotted the blood-spattered body of Amy Webster still sitting at her desk, but with most of her head missing. He recognized the handiwork, too. This was a one-man job. The only question was, where was that one man?

At the far end of the ground floor there was a bank of three elevators. Somers noticed a red light flicker on above the middle one. It was the down arrow, indicating that someone was coming down to the ground floor. He slipped his gun from its holster inside his grey jacket and stepped over a dead civilian’s body, positioning himself about thirty feet from the bank of elevators. He’d be ready to deal with who or what stepped out of the elevator doors.

PING! The elevator came to a stop on the ground floor, and slowly the doors parted. There, in the middle of the elevator, stood the dark hooded figure of the Bourbon Kid. His hands were resting by his sides. He appeared to be unarmed, but appearances can be deceptive. Somers, of all people, knew that.

‘Where d’you think you’re going?’ Somers asked. When there was no immediate response he took another slow step towards the elevator, still a good distance away. One step was enough to elicit a reply from the unmistakable, gravelly voice beneath the dark hood.

‘I’m looking for a better place to die,’ said the Kid.

‘Well, this is as good a place as any,’ Somers snarled back at him. ‘You can’t kill me with your silver bullets. You can soak them in holy water and garlic for all I care. Hell, you can stab me with a crucifix, it matters not. I’m impervious to all these things you’ve read or heard about. Mirrors, stakes, crosses, sunlight, running water, none of it can harm me. You take me on and there’s only one winner. I have the blood of Christ and the blood of the vampire running through my veins. No one, not even you, can kill me.’

‘I know that.’

‘Do you? Do you really? Because somehow I doubt it. You’re here and you wanna play the big hero. You wanna show me that you’re brave enough to face me. You didn’t just kill Jessica and my boys for no reason, and you sure as hell didn’t make Amy Webster tell me the Eye of The Moon was here, just so I’d come back here to join you for coffee and home baking.’ He stopped talking for a moment, feeling the power within him, the thrill of Jensen’s fresh blood coursing in his veins. Then he continued, his voice dripping with venom.

‘No, you think you can take me on and kill me. Well know this, I’m invincible. You strike me down and I’ll get straight back up. Gimme your best, but I assure you, when you’re done, I’ll rip you in half. Your best bet is to kill yourself before I get to you. Take out a shotgun and blow your fucking brains out. Do it right, too –
shit,
take a swig of bourbon first if you want, and make it official, make some headlines. After all that’s what you love doing, isn’t it? ISN’T IT?’

Somers waited for the other to respond. What the Kid did was step out of the elevator and walk towards him. He came to a standstill when the distance between them was no more than fifteen feet.

‘I told you, I came here to die,’ he said.

‘Fine, then you’ve got three seconds to take out one of your concealed weapons and blow yourself away, otherwise I’m gonna kill you like no man ever got killed before.’

‘Good. I want you to do it. I wanna see if you’ve got the
guts to kill me. Prove you’re not scared of me like that pussy El Santino was. Or those other two faggot brothers of his. Or for that matter that piss-ugly bitch of a whore you called your wife.’

Somers’s eyes turned red with rage.

‘Right. That’s it,’ he snarled. ‘You wanna die the hard way, I can see to that.’

‘Good. It’s what I deserve.’

The Dark Lord needed no further invitation. Throwing back his head, he began the transformation into his undead form. His fingernails sprouted, his fanged teeth extended themselves and his face thinned to reveal the veins beneath the skin. Veins that had not yet had their fill of the daily intake of fresh blood they required.

‘You’re right. Death is exactly what you deserve, but I’m not going to kill you. I’m going to make you one of my kind. You will live for all eternity as a member of the Undead, the very race you despise.’

There was a clattering sound as the Bourbon Kid dropped the two shotguns he had concealed in his trench coat. They hit the floor and bounced away from him. His pair of Skorpions fell from his sleeves. He stepped forward towards the enlarged, nightmarish figure before him and lowered his hood, revealing his face. It was spattered with blood, no doubt from the many victims he had slain that day.

‘Do your worst,’ he said.

Somers tilted back his head and let out a huge roar, the sound accompanied by a graveyard stench from the depths of his being. This was a moment he had long been waiting for. An opportunity to rid himself of the menace that was the Bourbon Kid. He flew forward with his clawed hands outstretched, floating just a few inches above the ground. Unflinching, his adversary stood his ground. Still airborne, Somers grabbed his victim’s head with both hands and thrust his fanged teeth deep into the left side of his neck. The Bourbon Kid’s response was to wrap both arms around Somers’s body and pull him in tight, embracing his attacker as if he were a long-lost brother
back from the dead.