The Midnight Hour Read Online Free PDF Page A

decide which way to drive.
    He could feel a breeze blowing one way, but he knew that air movement, while used by them, was by no means any limitation for them. If they decided to fly against the wind they would do so. He could not rely on that.
    He looked at the signs, four arrows of wood on top of a long, thick pole. Four towns he had never heard of. Laketown, 20 miles. Hillson, 40 miles. Mirkton 25 miles. Sheldsville 5 miles.
    He smiled. He knew.
    They were hungry. They would not travel further than necessary before feeding.
    They would head straight for the nearest town.
     
    “Vampires don’t exist Mr Walker.”
    “Dracula was based on a real historical person.”
    “Did he bite people’s necks and drink their blood?”
    “Well… no, but…”
    “Vampires don’t exist.”
    Paul wiped palms slick with sweat over his face. He looked despairingly at the thin, even gaunt, detective across the table from him. He had been in this interview room for over an hour, answering the same questions about how he found Mr Malone’s body.
    “But you saw his neck! And he looked so pale. And why was there hardly any blood around?”
    “Mr Walker,” Detective Saul Greenbaum sighed. He enjoyed a good horror film as much as the next man, but this was beyond a joke. “How many holes does your typical vampire make in a victim’s neck?”
    Paul frowned, puzzled at the question.
    “Two. But what…?”
    “Mr Malone had at least ten holes, and the rest of his neck looked like it had gone through a meat tenderiser. I don’t know what was used to do that, but it wasn’t someone biting him, Mr Walker.”
    “But the blood had been drained out of him,” insisted Paul, stubborn and determined.
    “Blood will settle to the lowest possible level after death Mr Walker.”
    “Surely that only happens after some time? Mr Malone hadn’t been dead that long!”
    Detective Greenbaum sighed.
    “Neither you nor I are pathologists Mr Walker. I suggest we leave that kind of thing to them.” He shuffled the papers in front of him into some semblance of order. “I don’t think we need continue this interview any further Mr Walker. Thank you for your help.”
    “But…”
    Detective Greenbaum leaned towards the small microphone on the table, ignoring Paul.
    “Interview terminated 8:35am.”
    He turned off the tape recorder and forced a smile.
    “Good day Mr Walker. Thank you again for your time. We’ll take it from here.”
     
    After feeding they would find somewhere secluded, out of sight, and rest, sated. Too heavy to lift themselves on the air currents, suffused with the blood of their victim, they would curl into a protective spiral in a dark, cool place. Depending on how deeply they fed it could take up to half an hour for the blood to be fully digested, absorbed into their systems, until finally they could once again fly, immediately hungry and searching for more prey.
    They lived, they moved, they fed, they killed. There was nothing more to their existence.
     
    Janet found the scarf soon after she began her walk through the town.
    There were still very few people about, even though the stores were beginning to open. It would be another hour before most people would stray from their homes. Another hour before it became more crowded than she found comfortable.
    The scarf lay discarded behind a trashcan at the end of an alley. She had not noticed it at first, hidden in the dark shadows thrown by the wall. It was a deep red, and looked to be made of a fine, shimmering material. She was immediately drawn to it. She could imagine something so rich and expensive looking flapping about her long, thin neck, looking elegant. It fitted her self-image perfectly.
    She looked quickly around. Those few storekeepers opening their doors were taking no notice of her. For a moment she wondered who had lost it, and whether they would come looking for it, but then any feelings of guilt were replaced with the desire to own it. She bent quickly and