top, and see if they can find a path. Might be enough to keep him up here.”
“Got it,” she said. “You sure you'll be all right in a few hundred feet of uncharted wilderness?” I knew she was grinning.
“I'll be just fine,” said Sally. “Carl's going first.”
“Watch him,” said Hester. “He's a little out of shape. Wouldn't want you to have to carry him back.”
“I'll just call for a wrecker,” said Sally.
We traversed the lawn in seconds, now that the headlights let us see where we were going. The wooded area was going to be a different matter altogether. It didn't look like the headlights penetrated the trees beyond a few feet.
There was something of a path. It was dusty, and big bunches of dry leaves and twigs were clumped along it.
“Might as well assume he took the path,” I said, and headed forward.
I stepped on some twigs just about as soon as I got to the path, causing a brittle snapping sound, and eliciting a pithy “Shhhh,” from Sally. “Don't step on every twig you can.”
I assured her I wouldn't. We called out Toby's name three or four times, but got no response. We were on a gentle downslope that was taking us out of the splinters of light thrown by the cars. The house, I noticed as I looked back through the trees, had all but disappeared from view.
I told Sally to turn off her light. There was no reason to deplete both sets of batteries. After a few more yards, I told her that I was going to turn mine off, too, and to stand very still.
“If Toby's near here,” I whispered, “if we're quiet, I'll bet he spooks first.”
“Don't be too sure,” came the whispered reply.
We stood on the path for about a minute, in darkness and dead silence. I was about to turn on my light and start moving again, when we heard a rustling off the path, to our left. I heard Sally's intake of breath, but she didn't make another sound.
We stood stock-still. We waited at least another minute. Damn. It was still way too soon for my eyes to adapt. That would take another twenty minutes. Come on, Toby. Jump.
Suddenly, I heard a twig crack and snap. To my left, but kind of behind me. My first thought was that it was Sally, trying to get past me for some reason.
“Did you hear that?” Her whispered question came from directly behind me, right where she should have been.
When you're in the dark, and your partner asks a question, you really have to give some sign that you've heard, or they just keep asking.
“Yeah,” I whispered back, not turning. I reached down, and unsnapped my service weapon, leaving my right hand on the butt.
“It's just me,” she said, as I felt a hand on my back. There's always a need for reassurance, and to tell the truth, I was glad she'd reached out her hand. Reassurance goes both ways. “A deer?”
Possibly. I said as much. Then I said, “Shhh.”
We waited a few more seconds, and there was another sound, a little farther ahead and still left of the trail.
I decided it was time to turn on the lights.
I snapped my flashlight on, and could see nothing but trees.
“Shit,” said Sally, caught by surprise. Her light came on immediately.
We did both sides of the path. Nothing.
“What the hell is it?”
“Not sure,” I said, pointing the beam of my light down. I couldn't tell which, if any, of the twigs I was looking at had been the one that had cracked. Roots, some limestone showing through the surface of the path, and the twigs pretty much ruled out a footprint.
“Let's go toward it, anyway,” I said, starting forward along the path.
All of a sudden, there was a loud rustling in the dried leaves off to the right, of somebody or something moving fast. Then a yell and a thump.
Silence. Both our flashlights shined toward the sound. “Toby?” I hollered. “That you, Toby?”
“Help! Help! I broke my fuckin' leg!”
Sally and I both went crashing through the small branches and leaves, toward the sound of Toby's voice. We had to glide our feet, making whooshing sounds in the leaves that blocked out everything else. We stopped again, and he was so loud and clear, we had to be within yards. But we couldn't see him.
“Toby, where are you?”
“Down here! My leg's all broken!”
Sure enough, about ten yards out, off a bit to the left, if you looked really close between two trees, you could see sort of a lumpy area when the flashlight beams moved over that way.
We reached him in just a few seconds. He was lying on his side, in a limestone foundation, on a bed of about a half billion leaves and twigs. He was holding his right leg, bent at the knee, with both hands. Both Sally and I clambered in with him.
“Which leg?” asked Sally. It's training: You're taught not to assume anything if possible, but sometimes it just sounds dumb. I'm sure she thought so, too.
“This one. Aw shit!” He indicated his right leg. It looked fine to me.
“Let me see,” said Sally. She had just finished her EMT training, and sounded suspiciously happy. She began to feel his leg.
“Ouch!”
“Hurt?” Sally has a way.
“Oh, shit, yeah, it hurts! Jesus Christ, lady!”
“Toby,” I said, as much to distract him as anything else. “What the hell'd you run for?”
“ 'Cause you're gonna find out, that's why!” He was pretty near tears.
“Find out what?”
“Just find out,” he said. “Ouch!”
“Your leg looks just fine to me,” said Sally. “It's not broken.”
“Fuck of a lot you know!”
“You might have a sprained knee,” she said. “Don't be such a baby.”
“Toby!” I barked out. His head jerked around to face me. “Toby,” I said, very slowly, “tell me what we're going to find out.” I lowered my voice deliberately, to give it the contrast that would make him listen. “I mean it, Toby.”
“He did it,” said Toby. “He killed her. He finally fuckin' killed her.”
“Who killed her? Kevin?” He hadn't been at the top of my list of suspects.
“No.” He was very quiet. “Oh, fuck, you'll find out anyway. And he'll know all about it… ”
“Who?”
I waited. Finally, he said, “Daniel. It was Daniel. He did it. And now he'll get us, too.”
“No, he won't,” I said, just about automatically. Always reassure the victim.
“Don't fuckin' count on it,” said Toby, his voice shaking from both pain and fear. “He ain't just anybody, you know… ”
“Well,” I said, “I'm not, either.” I smiled reassuringly.
He reached up, almost as if he was going to try to grab my collar. I was at least a foot too far away.
“You're a nice guy,” he said, “but you just don't know who you're dealing with.”
“Try me.”
“Daniel's… Daniel's… ”
“Come on,” I said encouragingly, and trying not to sound exasperated.
“He's a vampire.” He looked about as startled as I suspect Sally and I did. “Oh, fuck, I can't believe I said that.”
“Vampire? Who's Daniel? What do you mean, he's a vampire?”
“Daniel Peel,” he said. “And I call him a vampire because he fuckin' is one. A real fuckin' vampire, man, who drinks blood, and never ever dies.” He moaned. “Fuck, Toby's dead. Toby's dead and fuckin' gone now. Just plonk,
