The People's Will Read Online Free PDF Page B

the corpse in the position where he himself had been lying. The differences between his cold, dormant body and the bloody remains that now took its place would be quickly noticed, but not quickly enough. From the bottom of the stairs, the returning man took only a glance at it, not realizing who it was.
    ‘Sergei?’ he shouted, looking around. ‘Sergei?’
    There was, unsurprisingly, no reply. He didn’t seem too concerned. He went over to the body, uncorking the bottle as he went. He began to kneel.
    ‘Here you are, old fella. We’ll soon have you feeling—’
    He leapt upright and took a step back, staring down at what remained of his workmate, saying nothing, his face showing bewilderment rather than fear. That would change.
    ‘I have to say I’m already feeling much better, thank you.’ As Iuda spoke he felt stiffness in the skin of his face, where the splattered blood had begun to congeal.
    The man turned in the direction of Iuda’s voice, peering into the darkness to make out its source.
    ‘Your friend, however,’ Iuda continued, ‘is beyond all hope.’
    He stood and began to walk, not straight towards the man, but on a path that would put himself between him and the stairs. The man’s head followed him as he moved, realization dawning on his face.
    ‘You. But …’
    Iuda would not have been easy to recognize. In a few short minutes the effect of new blood must have taken twenty, perhaps thirty years off him. With only a little more, he would be fully restored.
    ‘I sent for a doctor. He’ll be here soon.’
    It was difficult to determine what he meant by it. Was he still concerned for Iuda’s health? Or was he simply giving a warning that they would not be alone for long? Iuda would not need long.
    He stepped forward and put his hand over the man’s mouth, pushinghim back towards the wall. He felt the man try to resist, and lifted him upwards, revelling in his returned strength. The man’s feet scraped and tapped on the floor, but could find no purchase. He hit the wall with a thud and began to scream, but the sound was muffled by Iuda’s hand. His arms flailed, beating against Iuda’s sides and back, but with no effect.
    Iuda bit. His primary purpose was still sustenance, but he now felt confident in his abilities. A hungry man might rush the appetizer of his first meal, but he would allow time to relish the main course. He sealed his lips over the wound he had just inflicted and allowed the blood to pump into him, as though his mouth, oesophagus and stomach had become an extension of the man’s circulation, a one-directional extension that took blood and did not return it. Iuda knew that at this moment his victim would share something of his mind. He tried to make it clear that there was no hope of survival.
    Soon the blows from the man’s fists became more feeble, his screams turned into gasps for breath. Within a minute he was unconscious; within two, dead. Iuda was replete. Now a different weakness took him – not the powerlessness of the starved, but the lethargy of the glutted.
    ‘It must be down here.’
    The voice came from outside, at the top of the stairs. There were at least two of them. Iuda could probably have dealt with them, but was in no mood. He let the drained body drop to the floor and headed for the other flight of stairs, the one that went down to the dungeons. He stepped through the archway and examined the door. The lock had been smashed, probably not long before, when the cellars had finally been broken into. Fortunately the door itself was intact.
    He slid the bolts across as quietly as he could. They would find the two bodies in moments, and he did not want to leave any clue that the killer was near at hand. For the moment he was trapped in the cellars, almost as he had been trapped in that one dungeon for fourteen long months. This time it would only be until sunset. Once the sun was down he would make his way through the tunnels that led down to the Moskva, and