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back to E-Branch and utilize whatever powers are available to you from that
end. We should play it like we played the Bodescu business: low-key, until we
know what we're dealing with.'
Darcy shook his head. 'We're in it together. I can get the Branch jacked-up
from right here. Maybe I'd better remind you: falling in harm's way isn't a
habit of mine. My guardian angel?
And anyway, what can you do on your own? Sandra was right, Harry. You're an
ex-Necroscope. You don't have it any more. Where talents are concerned, you no
longer figure. And as you yourself pointed out, what happened in Bonnyrig was
entirely coincidental: the dead won't be there to help you out every time. So
let's face it, of the three of us you're the weakest. It isn't that you don't
need us, more that we don't need you.'
Harry stared at him. 'You need my expertise,' he said. 'And I've already
stated the possible danger to Sandra. She really shouldn't be anywhere near
me, and . . .' And abruptly, he paused.
But too late, for the damage was done. He never had been much good at
subterfuge.
'Near you?' she said. 'What does that mean, Harry?' It was her turn to trap
his hand.
He sighed, looked away, finally said: 'Look, we have a vampire here. Possibly
of the old guard, but in any case not too far removed from the original
strain, the Wamphyri themselves.
And like I keep telling you, if only you'd listen, the Wamphyri have powers!
Sandra, you looked in Jordan's head and there was this thing in there
torturing him, questioning him -
specifically about us. By now he probably knows all there is to know about
E-Branch, and how we dealt with what Thibor Ferenczy left behind, and Yulian
Bodescu, and . . . hell, anything he wants to know! But more especially he'll
know about me. If not now, soon. And then he'll come for me. He can't afford
not to, for he'll know his cover's blown. I'm Harry
Keogh, the Necroscope, and I'm dangerous. I've killed vampires; I've caused
vampire sources to be rooted out and destroyed; and locked away in my brain
somewhere I have the secrets of dead speak and the Möbius Continuum. Of course
he'll come for me.
And for you two, if you're with me. Now Darcy . . . OK, you have your talent,
which protects you. But you're still a man, flesh and blood. You were born and
you can die. And remember, this thing knows about your talent! If there's a
way to dispose of you - or even better, to use you - he'll find it.'
'But surely that's my big advantage?' Darcy argued. 'I already know how to
kill him!'
'Oh?' said Harry. 'And how will you find him? And if and when you do, do you
think he'll lie still for you to stake him out? Man, he won't wait for you to
find him -he'll come looking for you! For us! Look, I'll say it again:
compared to this, Yulian Bodescu was a bumbling amateur.'
"Then I'll call in all the help I can get, from E-Branch. I can have ten of
our best out here by tomorrow noon.'
'Call them in to be slaughtered?' Harry's frustration was growing, turning to
anger. With people as special and intelligent as these two, still he had to
explain these things as if they were children. For compared to the Wamphryi
they were children, and just as innocent. 'But can't you see, Darcy,' he tried
again, 'they don't know him. They don't know who or where he is.'
Sandra spoke up, displaying all of her innocence and lack of experience for
anyone to see. 'Then it's a game of hide-and-seek,' she said. 'We'll keep our
heads down and let him make his play. Or close him in through a system of
elimination. Or - '
'We can use our locators,' Darcy cut in, 'like we did with Bodescu, and - ' He
paused abruptly and his scalp tingled. And: 'Jesus!' he said, giving a nervous
start as something of the enormity of the problem - and something of its true
horror - suddenly hit him. And: 'Our locators!' he said again. So that now
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Sandra, too, caught on.
'Oh, my God!' she said.
file:///G|/rah/Brian%20Lumley/Brian%20Lumley%20-%20Necroscope%204%20-%20Deadsp
eak%20V1.0%20(html).htm (105 of 239) [2/13/2004 10:16:36 PM]
Gasping his shock
Harry nodded and allowed himself to flop slowly back in his chair. 'I see
we're starting to think,' he said, almost without sarcasm. 'Locators? A
terrific idea, Darcy -except our enemy has fixed it so he may soon have a
locator of his own. Yes, and Ken Layard's one of the best there is!'
The food arrived; gloomy and thoughtful, Darcy and Sandra only toyed with
theirs; Harry tucked his away in short order, lit one of his very rare
cigarettes, started on the coffee. Darcy, silent for some time, said:
'If it comes to it, we may have to burn Ken ourselves.'
Harry nodded. 'You can see why I was in a hurry.'
'I'm a fool!' Sandra said, suddenly. 'I
feel such a fool! Some of the utterly stupid things I've said!'
'No, you're not a fool,' Harry shook his head. 'Don't put yourself down.
You're just loyal, brave, and human. You could no more think like a vampire
than you could think like a cockroach. That's what it boils down to: being as
devious as they are. But don't think that's a bonus. Believe me it isn't. You
can make yourself sick, trying to think like they do.'
'Anyway,' said Darcy, 'I agree with you, Sandra has to get out of this.'
'Yes,' Harry nodded, 'and never should have been in, except there was no way
we could know until we got here.' He turned to her. 'You must be able to see,
love, how hampered we'd be?
Oh, Darcy will get by OK - he always has - but I wouldn't even be able to
think straight with you around. I'd be forever worrying about what you might
bump into.'
Sandra thought:
It's the first time he's called me 'love' in . . . a day or two?
It felt like a long time anyway. But the wait had been worth it. 'And what
would I do?' she said. 'Sit around back home and hope for the best?'
Darcy shook his head. 'No, you'd co-ordinate E-Branch's efforts in my absence.
With Wellesley out of the picture and me over here, things are bound to be
tight. But you have first-hand knowledge of our situation, so you'll be
invaluable as our liaison man - or woman. Also, you'll be kept fully in the
picture, day to day, on what's happening. In fact you'll probably have so much
on your plate that there won't be time to worry about Harry.'
And Harry said, 'He's right, you know.'
She looked at them, then looked away. 'Well, I'll say one thing for it: at
least I won't have to worry about things like . . . like burning poor Ken!'
Darcy looked at Harry. 'How about it? How long do we have before . . . ?'
'It will only come to that - dealing with it ourselves - if the local
authorities don't get a move on,' Harry answered. 'But out here, because of
the heat and such, I should think they're normally pretty smart off the mark.'
Darcy frowned. 'But is there no official deadline - God, what a pun! I mean,
before things start to get ... problematic?'
'You mean: when does he get up and walk, right?' Harry shook his head. 'No,
there's no official deadline. How long did it take George Lake, Yulian
Bodescu's uncle?'
'Three days and nights,' Darcy answered at once. 'They had just enough time to
bury him before he was digging his way out again.'
'Oh, don't!' said Sandra, her eyes bright with horror.
Harry looked at her, felt sorry for her, but had to continue anyway. 'Lake was
textbook,' he said. 'But I don't think there are any strict rules. None I'd
trust, anyway.' He sat up straighter and looked around. 'But you know, I was
just thinking: for tourists we must look pretty miserable! Anyway, this place
is filling up now. I suggest we get back to the villa. Let's face it, I
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could be wrong about the value of crowds; we could be just as safe there as we
are here. And whichever, we still have to make our plans - and make the villa
secure.'
On their way back they were mainly silent. This far out from the centre of
Rhodes, and this early in the season, things weren't so busy. There was plenty
of traffic on the roads, heading
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