Uprising. Scott G. Mariani

was a car accident late last night. Single driver, a teenage kid. The police took him to the John Radcliffe hospital. I’ve got a report from one of our people inside that the kid was ranting and raving. Something about a ritual blood sacrifice taking place.’

      ‘The V-word get mentioned?’

      ‘Said he found a whole nest. Apparently he was running away from it when he crashed his car.’

      Alex frowned. ‘More rogue activity?’

      ‘It’s a possibility.’

      ‘Or it could be just the usual Hallowe’en hysteria. We get this every year, Harry. I’ll bet you anything this kid was on drugs.’

      ‘He was. But I think you should check it out nonetheless. We can’t afford to take chances here.’

      ‘Why does it have to be me? Can’t you send Gibson?’

      ‘Gibson’s in Athens.’

      Alex sighed. ‘Fine. I’m on my way.’

       Chapter Thirteen

      Ever since the conversation he’d overheard in the canteen, Joel hadn’t been able to shut the story of Declan Maddon out of his head. Maybe he was going crazy. Maybe he’d been working too hard and his brain was going into meltdown.

      But he’d just had to go and talk to this kid. After a fraught and unproductive morning of pushing paper around, he’d seen a ninety-minute window open up in his schedule and grabbed it. The John Radcliffe hospital was on the edge of the city, off the Oxford ring road. Joel rode fast. Just before midday and the sun was shining brightly now – it was turning into one of those beautiful autumnal days that seemed to be getting rarer with each passing year.

      The staff nurse looked as perplexed at Joel’s request as she was by his appearance in bike leathers and boots.

      ‘Again? The police were here last night talking to him.’

      ‘I have just a few more questions,’ Joel said.

      Dec Maddon was on the second floor, sharing a near empty ward with a frail old guy who looked like he was dying. The kid was propped up in his narrow bed with his left arm in a sling. His face was pale and his eyes were rimmed with red, with dark circles around them. He stared up in sullen indignation as Joel approached his bed and flashed his police ID.

      ‘Hello, Declan,’ Joel said cordially.

      ‘I told them I didn’t take the fucking pills,’ the kid said sourly. ‘And my name’s Dec. Not Declan. Nobody calls me Declan.’

      Joel scraped a chair across the tiles and sat down next to the bed.

      ‘How about we start again? Hello, Dec. I see you’ve been in the wars.’ He glanced over at the old man at the other end of the ward, but he didn’t seem to be in a fit state to overhear much. ‘I hope you don’t mind me asking you a few more questions?’

      ‘Haven’t we done this already?’

      ‘Tell me what you thought you saw last night,’ Joel said, as quietly and patiently as he could.

      ‘I don’t think,’ Dec said. ‘I know.’ His dark-ringed eyes were fixed on an invisible point somewhere above the foot of his bed. There was a grim set to his jaw. ‘I know what I saw, and there’s only one word to describe it.’ He sank back into the pillow and his voice trailed away to a mumble. ‘You wouldn’t believe me anyway. I tried to tell the others, but nobody wanted to listen.’

      ‘Try me,’ Joel said.

      Dec turned to look at him. ‘I saw vampires,’ he said slowly, solemnly.

      Joel met his gaze, searching his face for any signs of irrationality. He could see none.

      ‘It’s fucking crazy,’ Dec breathed.

      ‘But you believe it, don’t you?’

      ‘Yes. I do believe it. I’m telling you the truth. And it’s not the pills. Not what the cops think. Because I swear I didn’t take any. I wish I’d never gone anywhere near those fucking pills.’

      ‘You told the officers you saw these people murder your girlfriend.’

      Dec’s brow creased up into a deep frown. He looked away. Shook his head, and Joel could see the dismay in his eyes.

      ‘I didn’t see…I ran,’ he muttered. ‘I couldn’t take any more.’ He gritted his teeth, looked back at Joel. ‘But she was there. She was…she was hanging there, and they were all standing round her.’

      ‘Kate’s safe at home, Dec. It’s all been checked out. She’s fine. Nothing wrong with her.’

      The kid let out a long, whistling sigh. ‘Yeah, I know. They told me this morning.’ He bit his lip in agitation. ‘But you don’t understand. These people are vampires. If they bit her or something—’

      Joel let out a long breath. ‘They turned her, you mean. She’s going to become one of them. She’s sitting in school right now with the rest of her classmates, and when she gets home tonight she’ll be watching TV with her parents or up in her room chatting to her friends on Facebook, but really she’s one of the Undead. That’s a heck of a story. But you know, this isn’t the movies.’

      Dec’s eyes were crazed. ‘You’re just like the others. You think I’m making this up. You think I just imagined those fuckers standing there covered in blood, and the bitch with the sword—’

      ‘Kate wasn’t hurt. Whose blood are you talking about?’

      ‘Jesus Christ, I’ve been through this a hundred times,’ Dec moaned impatiently. ‘The other girl. That’s whose blood. The one they fucking killed. Like a sacrifice. That bitch just slashed her head half off and all the blood came pouring down and they were just gulping it back and I saw their fucking teeth. Get it? Big long teeth on the bastards.’ He flopped back into the pillow and shut his eyes with a moan. ‘Ah, fuck it, what’s the use?’

      Joel was quiet for a long time, watching him. He could see the teenager was close to despair. He’d been there himself. He suddenly felt a pang of shame.

      ‘I’m not like the other coppers, Dec.’

      Dec opened his eyes. ‘Meaning what? You believe me?’

      ‘I didn’t say that.’

      ‘Huh. Of course.’

      ‘But I want you to tell me everything. Starting at the beginning. I want to know where this happened. Why you and Kate were there in the first place. Every detail.’

      ‘It was foggy. I was lost. I don’t know—’

      ‘Okay. Tell me the rest.’

      And Dec did. As he told the story, his voice became increasingly strained and his face grew pale and moist. Joel watched and listened carefully, trying to gauge the look in his eyes. He seemed completely lucid – but then, that was the power of hallucination. Joel had seen it before. You could never really tell.

      Then why was his flesh crawling this way?

      Visions of the past flashed up in his mind. For an instant he could see himself sitting there in Dec’s place on the bed, aged twelve, desperately trying to persuade the authorities of what he’d witnessed. And nobody believing a word. Rationalising, always rationalising.

      It’s all in your mind. How many times had he heard that?

      He swallowed hard. ‘Can you describe the alleged victim?’

      ‘Ha. There you go again. Alleged.’

      ‘All right. Tell me about the girl they killed. How’s that?’