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Barbara turned to Grace. “You all right?”
The girl folded her arms and looked out of the window. It was going to be a long journey. Al started to talk about the storm and canceled flights. Barbara let his words wash over her. Then she reached into her pocket and pulled out the note that Colleen had left in the chapel. It had been addressed to “Detective Atkins.”
Dear Barbara (if I may call you that)
I’m sorry I couldn’t make your acquaintance for longer. But the time has come for me to leave. Quicker than I would have liked, but when God calls, his children must listen.
I have decided that it is better if I continue my journey alone. Grace has been a loyal companion, but now she must find her own path. I trust you will take care of her.
For now, I am leaving you this. You might think it odd, but for a long time before I found my true calling, this item was a symbol of hope for me. Something I clung to in the darkest of hours. Maybe, if you wish to know more, you should take a trip to a small town in Oregon called Madeline Springs. There’s a house there, in the woods, where I lived, for a long time.
Yours,
Colleen Grey
“Guess she really was mad as a box of bats,” Rita had said when she’d read the note. “And why in hell did she leave you that thing?”
“I have no idea,” Barbara had said, staring at the small plastic knife.
But Colleen was right. She would like to know more.
The girl had hitched across the states. No real aim but to get far away from the place she had been held captive for so long. She met other travelers along the way. Humans and vampyrs. Some she had befriended. Others she had killed. It was in her nature. Even though she longed for it not to be. She longed to be saved from herself. She longed…to be human.
Her time in captivity had not made her hate humans, or even fear them. Far from it. She had seen the alternative. While she was grateful to her Rescuer, she had also been repulsed by him. They were not the same. She knew nothing of vampyr ways. But all her TV watching and reading had educated her in the human world. That was where she wanted to live.
She had filed her teeth, forced herself to endure more and more hours of daylight and to sleep during the dark hours. She even managed to hold down small amounts of food without being ill. But it still wasn’t enough.
And then she had met a priest. An inspiring man, God rest his soul. He had convinced her she could overcome her nature. With the love of God. God was all-forgiving. God could perform miracles. The devil had been an angel once. Why couldn’t a devil become an angel? She just had to prove her faith.
This had become her mission. To show God she was worthy of redemption, of being released from her curse. She would cleanse the world of vampyrs and, in doing so, prove herself worthy of a miracle.
It was a role she had found she was uniquely suited to. She had certain gifts that meant she could entrance congregations. They listened to her, followed her, donated generously to her churches. She traveled the country, using new names, building new places of worship in colony towns, inspiring people to rise up against the demons in their midst. She had, indeed, found her calling. And of course, no one suspected that a preacher was actually a vampyr.
Of course, she still needed blood, but as long as it was pure human blood, only small amounts would suffice. That was why she always had a companion. Someone who could provide for her. And there had been plenty willing to do so along the way. Some she had let go, like Grace. Others had made the ultimate sacrifice. It was God’s will. Their deaths served a higher purpose.
God always had a purpose. It was why he had guided her to Deadhart, even before the Colony returned. Although perhaps her own instincts had also played a part. Still, she had built a strong congregation there, and she felt aggrieved at having to leave. But too many questions were being asked.
It was unfortunate she had been forced to approach Dr. Dalton for blood when Grace became ill for a while. Oh, she knew all about the Doc’s blood dealing. A preacher gets to know the sins of their congregation. But then the teacher, Mowlam, had discovered her secret and started blackmailing her. Killing him had been necessary and, she had to admit, pleasurable. God’s work was not always clean work. Sometimes you had to get your hands dirty.
Now, she was once again traveling, alone. She would find a new town, a new name and a new companion. She always did. There were always girls who needed to be rescued.
EPILOGUE
6 MONTHS LATER
A brisk knock at the door. Decker looked up. Edwards. He didn’t like Edwards. He was young. And enthusiastic. And good-looking. All qualities that crawled right up Decker’s butt crack. Even the way he knocked boiled Decker’s piss.
“Yeah?” Decker snapped.
Edwards pushed open the door. “Sir, I just took a call from Landon Police Department in Minnesota. Two kids went crazy in school this morning, killed their teacher and two other pupils.”
“So? Why are they calling us? We don’t deal with active shooters, and it’s Minnesota, for fuck’s sake.”
“These kids didn’t shoot anyone. They ripped out their victims’ throats.”
Decker stared at him. “They’re Colony?”
“No. The two kids say they were held captive and turned against their will. They claim they couldn’t help themselves.”
