The Dead of Winter

SEVENTEEN



Cora pulled her hat down over her brow. The afternoon sun gleamed on the golden cross crowning the church's steeple, hurting her eyes. Despite sleeping through the night and most of the morning's train ride into Denver, she'd kept her head down through the streets, trying to hide from both her hangover and her growing dread.

Her boots clapped against the stone steps, bringing her up to the wooden doors. Closing her eyes, she gave a deep sigh, trying to exhale her panic and despair with the white cloud of breath that poured from her lips. It didn't work. Her hand paused on the door handle for a moment before she opened it and escaped into the darkness of the vestibule.

The thick carpet muffled her footsteps as she approached the altar and knelt before the crucifix. Closing her eyes, she savored the silence of this place of worship, willing it into her turbulent soul. After a few minutes, the throbbing in her head subsided, leaving her alone with her panic.

"Cora? Is that you?"

She turned her head and saw Father Baez approaching. "Yeah, it's me, Father. Forgive me, but I think I forgot to cross myself when I entered today."

A smile spread beneath his white beard. "I do believe the good Lord can find it in His heart, my dear. Now tell me, what brings you to my door?"

"Well," Cora said, "I got me a bit of a problem, and I heard tell you can give me some answers."

"I'll do what I can," Father Baez said, offering her a hand. "Come, sit and we'll talk."

He led her over to a pew. Cora sat down, wringing her hands despite herself. She looked at them for a few minutes, trying to find enough courage to speak. Taking a deep breath, she looked up into the priest's kind eyes. She needed the answers he could provide, no matter what they might be.

"Well, Father," she began, "I had me a run-in with a vampire yesterday, and he said something funny. About Ben." The priest's face grew grave, and Cora noticed. "So you do know something, then?"

Father Baez looked at the crucifix without answering. After a few moments, he nodded and turned back to her. "If I can help you in any way, I will."

Cora nodded. Trying to keep her voice steady, she told the priest about her two encounters with Fodor Glava. She recounted as best she could his exact words about Ben and Father Baez himself. When she finished, the priest leaned back in the pew, stroking his white beard.

"His words took you by surprise?" he asked.

"Course they did," Cora said, looking at him like he was crazy. "My Ben ain't been killed by no vampire, at least not that I know about." She paused, looking down at her hands again. "Truth is, that's the other reason I came calling on you today, Father. See, Ben didn't come back to the hotel last night, and that's got me awful worried. It ain't like him to just disappear like that."

"You were expecting him to come into your hotel room?" Father Baez asked. Cora nodded. "When was the last time you saw him?"

"Yesterday afternoon," Cora said. "Why?"

The priest looked at the crucifix again. His eyes betrayed a deep concern, but he remained silent. Cora watched his face, her fingers working at her belt. In the silence, her thoughts began running wild again. Father Baez wasn't reassuring her the way she thought he would. There were no words of comfort, no gentle laugh dismissing her worries. Candles winked on the altar, and the face of the blessed virgin looked down on them from a window.

Father Baez continued to look at the dying savior, his eyes wandering over the cloth draped around its arms. Finally, he roused himself and looked at her, his face filled with sorrow. "I've been trying to think of the best way to say this, and I've decided that our Lord's advice is best: the truth shall set you free." He took a deep breath. "Cora, my child, your husband Benjamin Oglesby has been dead for ten years."

Cora blinked.

A gale of laughter erupted from her lips. "That's plumb crazy, Father. Like I said, he was with me just yesterday. It may be that he was killed last night, but I know he ain't been dead no ten years."

Father Baez offered her a sad smile. "I can't explain that to you, and I don't intend to try. All I know is that I conducted a funeral mass for your husband ten years ago and laid him to rest in the old church's cemetery."

"But that ain't right," Cora said. "That Fodor Glava feller said that he killed my Ben, so if he did, then Ben ain't been laid to rest. He'd be…" She trailed off, unable to voice the thought.

"He was," Father Baez said, his smile disappearing. "Your husband was killed by a vampire, this one you call Fodor Glava. His body was reanimated as the unholy undead, one of the vampire's minions."

"Right," Cora said, "so you can't have laid him to rest. That means he ain't been dead no ten years, and maybe that means he ain't dead at all."

The priest shook his head, his face lined with regret. "No, Cora. Your husband's body became a vampire, a member of the nest you destroyed. I may have laid him in the ground, but it was your silver bullet that laid him to rest. Don't you remember?"

Cora shook her head, her mouth working but unable to speak. If she had killed her husband, she would remember doing it. What she did remember was talking with him, laughing with him, and riding with him every day of those ten years. They'd put a number of monsters to rest during that time, too, which was something a dead man couldn't do. Father Baez, for all his kindness, must have confused the story, just like Fodor Glava.

An image came into her mind: Ben's rusted pistol, lying in the bottom of their trunk amid unused bullets. She shifted her legs, uncomfortable with the thought, and felt the weight of the silver dagger in her boot. Her hand slipped down and pulled it out. The silver glimmered in the candlelight as she turned the blade over in her hands. She remembered it glimmering in the lantern's glow in the mine tunnel, Ben's fingers around its hilt.

The voice of James Townsend echoed in her ears, asking to meet her husband after a long afternoon of riding with him. The hotel clerk's confused eyes when she mentioned her husband. Ben's silence during the meeting with Lord Harcourt. Mart Duggan, asking for a description of Ben so he would know him if he saw him. She remembered now that Ben had been with her to see the marshal when she'd borrowed the gun she used to kill the wendigo. Duggan had to have seen him then, yet he couldn't recall what Ben looked like.

Cora's shoulders began shaking in quiet sobs. She felt a warm arm around her back, and she let herself fall into the priest's embrace. Her tears soaked into his vestments as the past ten years began unraveling. Ben's bright blue eyes shining as he laughed. His hand on her shoulder. His quiet concentration when he picked up a book. His grim determination as…

…they entered the vampire nest. The vampires had holed up in a large house in north Denver. It had taken the hunters nearly a week to track them; the nest never stayed in one place for long. Ben kicked the front door open, letting the afternoon sun stream into the dark interior. They entered, guns at the ready, and waited for their eyes to adjust. She could hear Ben's steady breathing next to her.

Once the darkness had retreated from their sight, they moved up a stairway along the right-hand wall. The boards creaked beneath their boots, announcing their presence, but no monsters came flying out of the shadows. The hunters went from room to room on the second floor, ensuring each was clean of undead before moving on. Boards covered the windows, letting in only thin streams of sunlight. The floor lay under a thin carpet of dust that swirled around their spurs.

They found a second staircase in a hallway attached to the main bedroom. Ben led the way down, rifle at the ready and saber on his hip. Cora kept her big Colt pointed behind them as they descended. The stairs emptied into a large kitchen. The shadows of cooking stoves lurked in the corners of the room, their fires long dead. Baskets of stale bread sat on shelves lining the walls. A door to their right opened into a pantry. In the dim light Cora could see cans of vegetables and fruit.

As they moved toward a door across the room, Ben stooped down and picked something up. He turned to his wife and handed her his find: a small hatchet. She took the handle in her free hand, then looked at him with a question in her eyes.

"We need some sunlight in here," he said, his voice just above a whisper. "Go on back upstairs and see to the windows."

"What about you?" she asked.

"I'll hold the line right here," he said. "Hurry on back so we can lick these bastards."

Cora nodded and, keeping her pistol handy, made her way back up to the second floor. Starting in the main bedroom, she began chopping away the boards covering the windows. The hatchet was light but still sharp, and streams of sunlight soon began filling the room. Her efforts echoed through the house, making her more than a little nervous. She kept one eye on the door, ready to drop the hatchet and open up with her pistol at the first sign of a vampire, but nothing came. Moving from room to room, Cora worked as fast as she could. Soon, the upper floor was awash in late afternoon sunlight.

When she finished, she made her way back down to the kitchen, dropping the hatchet by the bottom of the staircase. "All set up there," she said.

Ben was gone.

Her Colt's hammer clicked in the stillness. She gave the room a thorough sweep with her eyes before moving from her place next to the stairs. The kitchen was silent. Lowering her gaze to the floor, she checked for any sign of a struggle. The carpet of dust remained undisturbed save for two sets of tracks leading toward the far door. She knelt down next to them and took a closer look. One set belonged to Ben's boots, and the other had been made by a pair of smaller shoes.

A thrill ran through her as she began following the tracks. She didn't know how someone could have survived in a vampire nest, but they must have heard her racket upstairs and come looking. Perhaps a butler had been trapped or away when the vampires attacked, or perhaps it was a drifter taking advantage of the abandoned house. Either way, Ben must have taken him outside as soon as he appeared.

Keeping her eyes on the trail, she followed it out of the kitchen and through the central hallway of the house. The fresh sunlight pouring from the second story gave the house a glow like deep twilight. The tracks led her to a closed door near the front of the house. Cora stared at the door in confusion. If Ben had found a survivor, he would have taken him outside to keep him safe, so why did his tracks lead deeper into the house? She reached out and pulled the door open. The groaning of its hinges seemed to screech in the silent house, making her wince. Behind it, a staircase descended into the darkness of the house's underbelly.

Before Cora could give the mystery much thought, a wail echoed from somewhere in the basement. The barrel of her gun gleamed in the dim light as she pointed it into the shadows. Moments passed, but nothing came rushing up the stairs. Her own breathing filled the silence. Cora's mind urged her forward, screaming that her husband was down there somewhere, but her instincts held her in place. She couldn't help him if she was blind and stumbling in the dark.

After a few minutes of silence, she took a step toward the door. Her worry was overpowering her sense. Ben was down there, and if she didn't follow soon, she would be too late. The silence told her that he wasn't fighting anything, but that didn't mean he wasn't in danger. Vampires could see in the dark, and he couldn't. They were no smarter than animals, but enough of them might be able to bring him down. Her boot creaked on the top step, and she paused. Nothing. Tightening her grip on her Colt, she began making her descent.

Two steps later, a savage mass of arms, legs, and fangs slammed into her, throwing her back through the door into the hallway. The vampire's weight kept her pinned to the floor as it snarled and snapped at her. Her hands clamped around the vampire's neck, holding its fangs at bay mere inches from her face. She didn't remember dropping her gun.

Cora managed to bend her knees enough to get her heels on the ground and shove upward. She released the pale neck at the same time and threw the vampire over her head. It slammed into a nearby wall with a hiss. Collecting itself, the creature regained its bearings and sprang at her. Cora rolled out of its path, and the vampire sailed through the open doorway back into the shadows.

Drawing her silver dagger, Cora got to her feet. When the monster came charging out of the basement a second time, she drove the point into its face as it smashed into her. Smoke billowed around them as the vampire let out a final, inhuman screech and went limp. She pushed the corpse off of her. The dagger slid out of the vampire's skull with a wet, slurping sound. Clutching it in one hand, she crawled on her hands and knees toward the stairs. Her pistol lay on the top step, its barrel gleaming in the semi-darkness. She picked it up, stood, and wiped the dagger on her buckskin pants.

Before she could sheathe it, another snarl came from the shadows. She pointed both weapons toward the stairs. Small pinpoints of light winked at her. The flash from the revolver's barrel lit up the darkness like a bolt of lightning, but it vanished before she could make anything out. No screech cut through the gunshot's thunder, so she thumbed the hammer back and waited.

Then, without warning, a series of wails filled the air, followed by the pounding of many feet. Cora backed up as her heart began to race. The echoes made it difficult to determine their numbers, but it was more than a few. Glancing over her shoulder, she could make out the stream of sunlight coming through the front door. As much as she hated it, she couldn't take on the entire nest by herself. Keeping her face toward the chorus of howls, she began making her way toward the door. Hissing, gray shapes poured out from the basement door. Their savage eyes locked on her, their fangs glistening in the twilight. She jumped backward into the doorway. The vampires approached her, snarling and snapping, but they did not follow her into the sunlight. Counting three targets, Cora grinned to herself. She took aim at one of the ugly faces and squeezed the trigger.

The vampire ducked as she fired. Her bullet punched into its shoulder, and it shrieked in anger and pain. The rest scattered like roaches. Cursing, Cora pulled back the hammer and fired again, but her target had already vanished into the darkness. Gunsmoke drifted through the sunlight as she stood facing an empty hallway.

In the waning daylight, Cora's mind began racing. She glanced at the sky over her shoulder. The sun hung just above the western mountains; her time was short. The shadows inside the house still rumbled with the movements of the vampires, but they kept themselves hidden from her sight. She could charge down the basement stairs and hope to find Ben before they noticed, but she'd only have a minute or two at most. If she failed, neither of them would make it out alive. Still, she couldn't just abandon him to darkness and death.

Behind her, she heard a horse whinny. Cora pulled her hat low against the sun as she looked out at her mare. She was a new purchase, bought only a few months ago. Her last mount, a bay named St. Andrew, had been shot out from under her by a group of bandits. This new mare didn't have the stamina old Andrew had, but she had a gentler nature. Cora had taken to calling her Our Lady of Virginia.

Cora looked at her now, wondering how long it would take her to ride out to the farmhouse where she and Ben were staying. Father Baez was there, protecting the family in case they failed to root out the infestation. His help would be essential if she was going to storm the nest and rescue Ben, but she didn't want to leave her husband to be devoured by vampires.

Common sense finally won out. Cora smashed a vial of holy water on the front steps of the house, ran over to her mare, and swung up into the saddle. They hadn't bothered to tie their horses when they went in, so she turned the mare toward the eastern road and gave her a punch with her heels. Our Lady started off at a good canter, and Cora let her warm up as long as her patience allowed before breaking her out in a full gallop. The house shrank behind her, its whitewashed walls glowing in the sunlight.

As she rode, Cora kept replaying the scenario in the kitchen over and over in her mind, trying to figure out exactly what might have happened. The tracks she found in the dust showed no sign of a fight, so Ben hadn't been jumped by a vampire. If she had read the signs right, there was someone else still alive in the nest. How they had managed to hide from the vampires was beyond her, but maybe they knew of a secret place protected with holy water or garlic. If that was the case, maybe they'd hidden there with Ben when she'd drawn the nest's attention. All they had to do was wait for her to return with Father Baez. Cora whispered a prayer as she urged Our Lady forward into the approaching night.

By the time she flipped Our Lady's reins over a lowhanging branch in the farmhouse's front yard, the sun had already slipped behind the mountains. She glanced at the sky as she ran across the yard, cursing the evening stars for their eager arrival. Every minute that passed put Ben and his companion in greater danger.

Cora crashed through the door of the house, hollering for Father Baez before she cleared the entryway. The priest emerged from the kitchen a moment later. Behind him, she could see the worried faces of the farmer and his wife.

"What is it, Mrs Oglesby?" Father Baez asked.

"You got to come quick, Father," Cora said. "Ben's trapped down in the nest someplace, and I can't get him out by myself."

"Calm down, my dear, and tell me what happened."

The priest motioned for her to join them in the kitchen, but she remained where she was, her hands on her hips. She recounted the events at the abandoned house, adding her theory about the mysterious survivor's hiding place. When she finished, Father Baez stroked his salt-andpepper beard.

"A troubling situation, certainly."

"Right," Cora said with a nod. She took a few steps toward the door, then looked back over her shoulder at the priest. "Well, what are you waiting for?"

"I'm afraid I can't just abandon this family," Father Baez said. "The sun has already set, and they would be vulnerable if we both left."

"But we're leaving to whip the vampires," Cora said. "Once we do, they'll be safe as a pair of bear cubs with their ma."

"We may kill some of them, yes," the priest replied, "but there would be no guarantee that we would get all of them. This house is the closest to the nest, and the vampires have already attacked it the past two nights. You and Ben were able to fend off the attacks, yes, but these people can't hope to fight the undead by themselves."

"They watched us do it enough to get the idea," Cora said, shifting her weight and glancing through the front door. They were wasting time that Ben might not have to waste. If Father Baez wouldn't leave, she would have to go back alone, and the odds would be against her.

"I'm sorry, Mrs Oglesby, but I can't come with you," Father Baez said. "My place is here."

Cora looked into his dark eyes, gauging his resolve. Finally, she nodded. "All right, then, I'm going back by myself."

Surprise filled the priest's face. "You can't be serious. Nobody can hope to survive a vampire nest after nightfall."

"Maybe I'm just that crazy," Cora said. "All I know is I ain't leaving Ben in that nest by his lonesome." Without waiting for a reply, she marched down the hall toward the door. Near the entryway, a staircase led to the second story of the house. Cora took the steps two at a time, then threw open the door to the guest room where she and Ben were staying. She pulled their traveling trunk from its place in the corner, undid the latches, and began digging through their supplies. She grabbed a spare crucifix and tucked it into her belt. A few more vials of holy water, a handful of garlic cloves, and she was ready.

She snapped the clasps closed and shoved the trunk back toward the corner. Dropping the vials and cloves into her belt pouch, she turned and thundered back down the stairs. The outside air was cool on her face. She grabbed the mare's reins and swung into the saddle.

As she turned Our Lady toward the road, a shape darted through the evening shadows toward the farmhouse door. More figures appeared, following the first with frightening speed. In the dim light, Cora could just make out the stooped forms of men on all fours. Before she could draw her pistol, they disappeared into the house.

Screams and shouts began echoing from the interior. Cursing, Cora jumped out of the saddle and landed running. She drew her revolver as her boots pounded up the porch stairs and into the house. One of the vampires crouched in the hallway, hissing at something through the kitchen door. The big Colt's thunder filled the entryway. Charging through the cloud of smoke, Cora took aim at the vampire's head and fired again. The gray lips fell silent, and she rounded the corner into the kitchen, revolver at the ready.

Father Baez stood a few paces back from the doorway, pointing a crucifix toward her. Behind him, the farmer and his wife stood with their backs to her, crosses pointing outward. Two small children clung to the woman's dress, their frightened eyes peering out from the protective ring of adults.

"By the grace of God," Father Baez said, crossing himself.

"I'm here, Father," she said. "Stay sharp. There's more vampires about."

Father Baez nodded, his eyes searching the ceiling while Cora loaded fresh rounds into her revolver. The pounding of running feet began shaking the walls, the sound moving from over their heads toward the stairs. The clicking of the Colt's hammer was lost amid the cacophony, but the big gun's roar deafened them all when she opened up on the first monster that charged through the doorway. The silver bullet punched through the creature's skull, blowing it backward into the body of its fallen comrade.

Behind her, she heard a shout from the farmer. She whirled around in time to see another vampire standing near the kitchen table, hissing at the raised crosses. Yelling at them to get down, she took aim at the creature's chest. The couple dropped to the floor, the mother grabbing her children and pulling them down with her. Another flame erupted from the revolver's barrel, and the vampire sprawled across the table, limbs dangling.

The rumble of the gunshots faded, and the house fell into an uneasy silence. Sobs came from the youngest child, a girl no older than five, as she hid her face in her mother's dress. Father Baez placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. The farmer stood up, eyes searching every corner of the kitchen as he raised his cross.

Cora's pulse pounded in her ears. She caught Father Baez's eye and nodded. The priest returned the nod, fingering his crucifix. Turning on her heel, she stepped into the hallway. Her free hand pulled the crucifix from her belt as she approached the staircase. Pointing the holy symbol toward the top, she began her ascent.

Something stirred in the guest room. Cora pointed the crucifix toward the sound, followed by the revolver's barrel. Nudging the door open with her foot, she interrupted another vampire as it was nosing through the sheets on the bed. Its blue eyes locked on her as a hiss escaped its teeth. Cora's breath caught in her throat. The creature's face was gray and lifeless, but she recognized it. Another rush of air hissed out from beneath the vampire's familiar brown mustache as it bared short white teeth at her.

Teeth that had once belonged to her husband.

Cora backed into the hallway, shaking her head in disbelief. The monster inhabiting Ben's body followed her, using his arms and legs to creep along the floor in a halfcrouch. It was still wearing Ben's buckskin pants and button-up shirt, but his riding boots and hat were gone. Cora's foot slipped off the top step, and she almost fell head-over-heels down the stairs. Regaining her balance, she brought her gun back up and pointed the barrel at her husband's face, but she couldn't pull the trigger.

"Ben," she whispered. "Ben, please stop."

The creature didn't listen. Ben's graying knuckles came to rest on the top step as Cora backed down the stairs. Tears burned in her eyes, blurring her vision.

"Ben, it's me," she said. "Don't do this, please."

Cora reached the bottom of the stairs and continued backing out the front door. The savage hunger in her husband's eyes hypnotized her, stopping her from pulling the trigger. She couldn't shoot him. No matter what was inside him now, it was still his body, his face. She couldn't kill him.

Her boot stepped on air where the porch ended, and she fell backward. The vampire lunged. Cora brought the crucifix up at the last moment, and the wicked face she loved twisted in pain. Ben's body backed away, beating the air with his arms.

"Cora? Are you OK?"

Father Baez's voice echoed from the kitchen. The vampire turned and sprinted toward him with the agility of a mountain cat. Cora pulled herself to her feet and ran after it as the priest retreated into the kitchen. She brought her Colt up again, but couldn't bring herself to fire before the vampire disappeared around the corner.

Running after them, Cora entered the kitchen in time to see her husband's fingers clamped around the priest's collar. Father Baez beat against the vampire with his wrinkled hands, but the creature didn't flinch. Teeth bared, the head crowned with Ben's hair lowered itself toward the old man's neck.

Cora kicked the vampire in the ribs as hard as she could and knocked it off balance. Before it could right itself, she kicked again, the toe of her boot smashing into Ben's face. She shoved the crucifix into his undead eyes as a scream welled up inside her. The vampire recoiled from the holy symbol, cowering against the cabinets. Cora kicked it again. It hissed and snapped at her with Ben's teeth. Squeezing her eyes shut against the oncoming tears, she brought her Colt up and pulled the trigger.

The scream exploded from her lungs. She pulled the hammer back and fired again.

The big revolver fell from her limp hand as she collapsed to her knees, her scream breaking down into sobs. A warm hand touched her shoulder, but she shrugged it off. She struggled to her feet and staggered down the hall in a near run. Her boots stumbled at the porch steps, but she managed to keep them under her until she made it to where Our Lady stood. The mare staggered as Cora crashed into her side. She pulled herself into the saddle and gave Our Lady her heels. Her vision swam in the growing darkness, and she squinted through it to point the mare down the right road.

The night air dried the tears from her cheeks as she rode. Cora gave Our Lady her head, unable to focus on anything aside from staying in the saddle. In her mind, she kept repeating the same desperate creed, the words falling into rhythm with the horse's hooves. She hadn't just killed her husband. She hadn't just shot him in the head. She hadn't. She hadn't.

Our Lady soon caught wind of Ben's horse and changed her course. Her easy gallop came to rest next to the other mare, who still stood faithfully outside the abandoned house. Cora rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand and dismounted. The front door of the vampire nest yawned open before her like the mouth to Hell itself. Whispering a desperate prayer, Cora plunged headlong into the darkness.

Pale shafts of light from the windows cut through the darkness. Cora's footsteps echoed through the house as she made her way to the basement entrance. Pausing at the door, she took a deep breath, staring down into the absolute blackness. In the shadows, she thought she saw Ben's dead eyes staring back at her. His pale face floated like a phantom in the darkness, his mouth still curled in a savage, animal snarl.

She shook her head to clear the image, her hand reaching for her revolver. Only when her fingers closed on air did she remember that she left it lying on the kitchen floor of the farmhouse. She pulled out her rosary instead, her knuckles white around the wooden beads. At the same time, her other hand pulled the silver dagger from its soft leather sheath. Another breath left her lungs as a prayer, and she began her descent.

The darkness closed in around her, forcing her to take one step at a time. Holding the rosary in front of her, she felt her way forward. Her fingers touched cold earth at the bottom of the stairs. She turned to her right and took a cautious step forward. Meeting no resistance, she took another. The air beneath the house was cold and stale, and the scent of death seemed to seep from the walls. Her eyes strained against the absolute blackness. Swaths of color flowed across her vision like gleeful phantoms.

In the stillness of the basement, the memories of the farmhouse wrapped around her mind with crushing black fingers: the hideous hissing of Ben's breath through his teeth, the inhuman hunger in his eyes, the gray shade of his face. That wasn't really him, she told herself. Her mind had been playing tricks on her. Ben wouldn't have threatened her like that, even if he had been turned. His gentle soul would have prevailed over the vampiric curse. No, Ben had to be down here somewhere, hiding with the other survivor.

Her foot struck a metal object, sending it skittering across the floor. She followed the sound, patting the ground with each step until she felt something beneath her boot. She knelt down and reached forward, the rosary dangling from her wrist. Her fingers closed around a cold piece of metal. A sword hilt. Sheathing her dagger, she picked it up in both hands, feeling the length of the blade with her fingers. It was Ben's saber.

"So that's where I dropped that."

A small scream escaped her lips as she whirled around in the darkness, holding the saber out in front of her. Without thinking, she began backing toward where she remembered the stairs to be.

"Where are you going?" the voice asked, and she paused. When it spoke this time, she heard it more clearly.

"Ben?" she asked. "Ben, is that you?"

"Sure is," the voice replied. "Can't you tell?"

"Where are you? I can't see you." Cora felt a shock of excitement run through her like a gunshot. "Why are you still here?"

"I was waiting for you, darlin'."

Cora allowed herself a short laugh. "Well, no point in waiting, then. Let's find us some matches and kerosene and send this place to hell along with any of them bloodsuckers that might still be around."

Without waiting for his answer, she turned and began walking toward the faint hint of moonlight shining in the darkness. Her spurs jingled in the still air of this house of death, singing out her relief. She hadn't shot her husband. Just as she'd thought, he had been in hiding, waiting for her to kill the rest of the vampires and come rescue him.

At the bottom of the stairs, she turned and looked behind her. "You coming?"

Ben made no reply. She strained her eyes in the dim light, hoping to see his face emerge from the shadows. It never came.

"Hey!" she called. "You still there?"

Something rustled in the darkness. Leaning forward, she searched for his face, a faint smile coming to her lips. A heartbeat later, a dark shape flew out of the shadows. It struck her in the temple, knocking her into the dirt wall. Stunned, she made a feeble attempt to pull herself up, but before she could get her boots under her, another blow rained down on her skull. Darkness flooded her mind, and she remembered nothing more.



Cora lifted her head from the priest's shoulder. Her eyes were red and swollen from crying. She took a deep breath, drawing fresh air into her lungs. Looking at Father Baez, she offered a sheepish smile.

"I'm so sorry, Cora," he said. "I know the memories are painful."

She shook her head, confused. "I don't get it, Father. I could have sworn Ben was with me all these years. Why, I saw him just yesterday, and he seemed as real as you do now."

"I wish I could explain it," Father Baez said.

"But I saw him that night, too," Cora said. "Or I heard him, anyway. He was in the basement of that house."

Father Baez shook his head. "I'm sorry, my dear. I examined the body in the farmer's kitchen, and it was your husband. I'm sure of it."

Another sob shuddered through her body as she nodded. Wrapping her arms around herself, she sat for a few minutes in silence, thinking about the memories she had just regained. She didn't want to believe them, but she couldn't deny the truth. Father Baez would not lie to her, and her memories fit with what Fodor Glava had said.

"I still don't get one thing," she said. "If what I remember now is the way it happened, how did I get out of that house alive? I remember getting hit over the head, and I must have blacked out."

A glimmer crept into the priest's dark eyes. "I followed you to the house that night," he said.

"What?" Cora asked. "What about that family?"

"I decided they would be safe," Father Baez said. "You had killed the vampires, and I figured any that remained would follow you. I prepared a lantern, tucked my crucifix into my belt, borrowed one of their horses, and set out for the nest."

"Did you see what hit me?"

The priest nodded. "When I arrived at the house, I heard you speaking to someone in the basement. It took me a few moments to find the right door, but when I did, I saw a figure crouching at the bottom of the stairs. I called out, and the man turned and looked at me. I'll never forget his face."

The priest paused, taking a deep breath. "He looked like any other man, even handsome, but his eyes were aflame with an unholy presence. They shone like gold medallions as he grinned at me. Without waiting for him to speak, I raised my crucifix and began quoting scripture. The man flinched, baring his teeth at me before running back into the shadows. When he did, I made my way down the stairs and found you lying on the floor, bleeding from your head."

"How did you carry me out?" Cora asked. "You ain't exactly built like a bull."

"I was a good deal younger then," the priest said, shrugging. "I crushed a garlic clove and spread it on the ground to keep the vampire from returning, then I dragged you back up the stairs and outside."

"And the vampire didn't follow you?"

"If he did, I didn't see him," Father Baez said.

Without warning, a fresh wave of sorrow washed over Cora. She lowered her head, but no more tears came. In their place, a dull ache spread behind her eyes. She wanted to curl up on the pew next to the priest and never move again. Everything was wrong. Her Ben was dead, and she was the one that killed him. She had pointed her gun in his face and pulled the trigger. It didn't matter that he was a vampire. Maybe she could have saved him somehow, but she didn't even try. She just shot him like a dog, snuffing out his life forever.

She couldn't take this. Standing to her feet, she began making her way back up the aisle.

"Where are you going, Cora?" Father Baez asked, rising from the pew.

"I got to find me a bottle," Cora said. "Ain't no way I can handle this on my own."

"Whiskey won't help, my dear," Father Baez said. "Please, stay with me and mourn your husband with dignity and grace." He tried to get in front of her, but she was walking too fast. "I will take you to his grave, and you can honor his memory there."

"I ain't fit to honor his memory," Cora said. "Not when I'm the one that shot him."

"He was already dead, Cora," Father Baez said. "You were purging the demon from his flesh so he could rest in peace. You saved him from the damnation of a false immortality."

"Ain't never saved nobody by shooting them in the face, Father." She reached the door and turned to look at him with empty, bloodshot eyes. "You should have left me there to die with him."

Before the priest could reply, Cora pulled open the door and stepped into the cold afternoon sunlight. Father Baez watched her disappear into the traffic on the street, sorrow filling his heart.

"Blessed Mary, bring thy comfort to Cora," he said. "Blessed Son, be Thou her strength and her light. Guide her back to Your way." He pulled the door closed.