I grew up in a village on the south coast of England.
I had a quiet, sheltered childhood. In the summer, I used to explore inlets and caves and pretend to be a smuggler. I’d read about these rogues and knew they made fortunes from bringing in tea, spirits and lace and paying nothing in tax.
I would stand at the entrance to a cave and the driftwood I had found became the sword I would use to fend off anyone who tried to steal my goods.
Back home in the evening, the seashells I had picked up on the beach were transformed in my imagination into the coins I had earned from my crimes. I would count them off and plan my next daring deed.
The winters brought storms that sent waves crashing over the harbour wall at the southern end of the village. I knew the risk of being swept into the sea by this so keep my distance. I stood as close as I dared, though, and spent hours watching as the storm raged. Then I would go home and stand in the hallway soaked wet through and dripping onto the floor as I hung my coat up.
There was precisely one shop in the village, which sold most things you could possibly need, apart from on a Wednesday afternoon and Sundays when it was closed.
Sadly, as I started to get older, the shine started to go off life in the village.
As a teenager, imagination was no longer enough. I wanted real action. Ideally involving drinking and girls.
But there was no way I would ever get served alcohol in the village shop. The people who ran the shop, Mr and Mrs Owens, had known my parents since before I was born, and they knew I was not old enough to drink legally.
As for girls, there was hardly anyone my age living the village, apart from Kay. We’d grown up in houses a few minutes’ walk away and had always been friends, nothing more.
It was a dire state of affairs and I felt like I was getting unhappier by the day.
What I needed was to be able to spend time away from the village.
The trouble was the nearest town was a forty-minute drive away.
And even when I was eventually old enough to learn to drive, I did not have a car and there was only one bus, which stopped in the village twice a day.
If you looked in the dictionary under ‘middle of nowhere’ the definition would have been my village.
By the time I turned eighteen, I was desperate to get out.
One evening shortly after my birthday, I was sitting on the beach around a fire with Kay and Tony, who lived with his divorced father in a house that had been made by knocking three adjoining cottages into one.
It was late autumn. The sea was restless and there was a cold wind which sent sparks from the fire spiralling into the air.
The wood we had propped up to make the fire crackled as the flames danced.
I could feel their warm glow on my cheeks and smiled.
“Penny for your thoughts?” Kay asked.
“The usual,” I replied, “I can’t wait to get out of this place. Until them I’m just enjoying hanging out and trying not to freeze to death.”
The others laughed at this. We all felt the same way.
Tony already had his escape route planned.
His father had worked in finance before taking early retirement and one of his old business contacts had offered Tony an internship with his crypto currency company in London.
Kay had her plan as well. She was going to sit her exams next summer and was already applying to universities for a place. She had decided against trying to get into a London university because the cost of living in the capital was eye wateringly high. Other cities, mostly in the north of England, offered the combined benefits of a busy social life, good courses, affordable living and, most importantly, being hundreds of miles away from the village.
My plans unfortunately were still vague. I had given up studying as soon as I could and my parents only business contacts were people they owed money to.
Despite this, I was determined to follow my friends out into the big, wide world.
Tony had borrowed – his word – a bottle of wine from his dad’s wine cellar and he opened it, while Kay handed round the plastic cups.
Tony poured us all a measure that almost spilled over the top of the cups.
Not wanting to waste any wine, we raised our glasses carefully and touched them together gently in a toast:
“To the future, anywhere but here.”
Then we drank.
Tony poked Kay in the side while she was taking a drink, which made her laugh and snort wine out of her nose.
“Such a lady,” I joked, and she reached over and gave me a playful slap on the cheek.
Her cheeks were flushed and she was smiling, and I thought: You’re beautiful.
It wasn’t the first time I had thought this and sometimes I wished there was a way we could be more than friends.
We all sat in silence after this, watching as dusk fell over the ocean. Then it was time to head to our homes.
As soon as he got to his feet, Tony was stumbling slightly and weaving across the sand – he was clearly a bit drunk.
Kay and I avoided him as we did not want to get bumped into.
She looked at me as we kept our distance from Tony and said, “It’s cold.” Then she linked arms with me.
Any thoughts I had of the cold were swept away. She felt so warm beside me and I could smell… I don’t know what it was. A scent she was wearing, the shampoo she used, or maybe it was just shower gel.
It did not matter. It was amazing and I was wishing we had miles to walk not yards when Tony came to a sudden halt.
He was staring up.
“What is it?” I asked.
He responded by pointing his hand at the sky out over the sea.
I couldn’t see what he was pointing towards at first. Then Kay tightened her grip on my arm and gasped.
And I saw it then.
It was a shooting star.
By my side, Kay gasped and said, “That’s so beautiful. It’s a sign that amazing things are going to happen to all of us.”
“Actually,” I replied, “shooting stars were often seen as portents of doom in medieval times.”
Kay let go of my arm. “You’re such a loser,” she said and then she walked away.
My heart sank – all the way through my boots, into the cold, lonely ground. Or at least that’s the way I felt as I watched her heading back to her parent’s house.
Tony was long gone but I did not care about him.
I trudged home alone.
I did not sleep well that night. I felt so stupid, opening my big mouth like that and once again wished me and Kay were more than friends.
When dawn finally arrived, I felt groggy and depressed. I dragged myself out of bed and felt too sad to shower so I pulled on the clothes I had been wearing the day before and went down to get something to eat.
My parents were both in their home office, presumably making more deals that would not work out, and I made it through to the kitchen without anyone asking me what my plans were for the day.
I hated it when my parents did that.
I emptied the last pack of cereal into a bowl and opened the fridge to discover there was no milk.
Typical!
Thinking how the universe hated me, I pulled on my coat and went to the village shop.
Mr Owens was on duty behind the counter. He was a short red-faced man whose idea of customer service was to look at you like you were about to try and steal a packet of sweets or a bottle of washing up liquid.
I wandered over to the milk, but decided cereal was too much trouble so bought two chocolate bars, some sliced cheese and a can of soda.
Breakfast sorted, I paid and got out of there. The weather had turned worse overnight and I had to put my head down as I walked into the wind on the way down to the harbour wall. There was a bench near there, next to the old church, where I could sit and eat.
The old church was the largest building in the village. It was no longer used as a place of worship. Like a lot of churches in small villages across the country, it had been deconsecrated because its congregation had fallen away to next to zero.
It was now for sale with planning permission to turn it into a residential property.
One developer had bought it a few years before, but they had gone bankrupt not long after starting work, leaving the inside of the old church half gutted and littered with debris.
The exterior was a mess as well. The windows were boarded up and a No Trespassing sign was stuck to the front doors of the church. They were clearly starting to rot thanks to the damp sea air and the rain.
It was a shame that such a nice building was going to ruin in this way.
Thankfully, it wasn’t my problem.
As I passed the harbour wall on my way to the bench, I saw that the Campbell brothers were working on their boat. It was low tide and the boat lay tilted over slightly to one side in the silt. The hull was filthy and worn, much like the rest of the boat. It looked barely seaworthy. I personally would not have gone out in it.
The Campbell brothers, Tyler and John, claimed to be fishermen, but I did not believe them. I was convinced they were the modern-day version of the smugglers which I had admired so much when I was a young child.
However, I did not admire them. I felt the opposite: I did not like or trust them one bit.
That day, they must have noticed me – we were the only people around – but they continued to work on their boat and ignored me.
That worked for me. I sat on the bench and opened the first pack of my feast.
After I had eaten, I should have gone home and gone online to check out career websites so that I could start getting my life into gear, but instead I drifted around the village and then walked for miles along the coast.
The inlets and caves were now just places I could be alone with my thoughts.
Hours passed and it was soon getting dark again. I had wasted another day and started to drift back towards the village.
I was about a mile away when something caught my attention.
There was a light flickering out at sea. It could only have been coming from a vessel.
As the last of the light slipped away, I focused on it, and saw that the light was flashing on and off. It seemed to be a signal.
But who would a vessel be signalling to out here in the middle of nowhere?
My answer came minutes later when I spotted another vessel slowly making its way out to sea. Even from a distance I recognised the Campbell brothers’ shabby boat straight away.
My guts tightened as I realised what was going on.
They were going to pick up illegal goods and smuggle them ashore.
That was it. It must have been.
And, sure enough, their boat was almost at the other vessel now.
The sensible thing to do was report the Campbell brothers to the authorities, but out here I knew I would have no signal on my mobile phone.
All I could do was wait.
I did not think there was any way I could be seen by the Campbell brothers from out there on the water but instinctively I crouched down anyway.
And it was lucky I did, because, about ten minutes later, I could see the Campbell brothers’ boat was heading back to shore – and if they kept on the same course, they would come perilously close to me.
I crawled backwards until I was inside a small cave.
On the plus side, this meant I was hidden from view if they should land close by.
On other side, if they brought their contraband into the cave like the smugglers of old, I was a sitting duck.
This had been a bad move.
I needed to make a break for it. I could be safely home in no time if I ran as fast as I could.
But it was too late.
The Campbell brothers’ boat was feet away from the beach and its engine was stuttering to a stop, and one of them – Tyler – was clambering ashore.
I swore under my breath and moved further back into the cave just as John Campbell appeared on the deck of their boat.
He was joined by two people whose faces were hidden beneath the hoods of sweatshirts.
They must be the Campbell brothers’ co-conspirators in this crime, I figured.
Their presence also meant I was outnumbered now by four to one.
I started to feel sick with anxiety and I was cramping up.
I bit my lip and tried to stay as still as I could.
The two people whose faces were hidden were getting off the boat as well, helped by Tyler. He then turned to his brother and waved. John went back into the cabin and powered the engine back up and soon the boat was heading back out to sea.
In the meantime, Tyler had started to lead his two mysterious companions along the beach. They were heading in the direction of the village.
I counted to ten then, despite my common sense screaming at me to leave it, I followed them.
I kept at a distance, ready to make a run for it if they turned and saw me, but they seemed focused on keeping up a fast pace.
The only thing slowing them down was the wind, which by now was becoming vicious. I was almost blown over at one point by a particularly fierce gust.
It was the last thing I needed when I was trying to follow them without being noticed.
I was relieved when they at last reached the village. They headed round to the small back door of the old church. I was shocked to see Tyler take out a key, open it and usher his companions inside.
He followed them, closing the door behind him, but leaving it unlocked.
I was desperate to follow but, before I did, I needed reinforcements.
I messaged Kay and Tony, telling them what I had seen and asking them to get here now.
A flurry of questions followed. Then Tony told me there was no way he was leaving the house on a night like this, before adding that I was crazy.
Kay, though, said she would be there as soon as she could.
I was still cold, windswept and on edge, but I felt better knowing Kay was on the way.
And secretly glad that Tony would not be joining us. That it would just be me and Kay.
A short while later she arrived. She was bursting with excitement.
“This is wild,” she said – far too loudly.
I put my finger to my lips to shush her and whispered, “We can’t do anything to let them know we’re on to them.”
She nodded and added in a much quieter voice, “Are you sure we should not just phone the police?”
“I’ve been thinking about that,” I replied. “What would we say? That one of the Campbell brothers is in the old church with a couple of strangers they brought ashore.”
The nearest police station was more than an hour’s drive and there was no way they would send anyone out all this way for something so insubstantial sounding.
Kay got that straight away.
“So, what’s the plan?” she asked.
Powered by the adrenaline pulsing through my veins, I grinned and said, “We sneak in and we get hard evidence that they are up to no good. Is your phone fully charged up?”
She held her mobile up. Its screen glinted in the darkness.
I gave her the thumbs up and crept towards the unlocked door.
I opened it as slowly and gently as I could. At one point it creaked. It wasn’t that loud a noise but I froze anyway and stood there while my heart beat far too quickly in my chest.
Behind me, Kay giggled.
I turned and gave her a stern look. She put her hands over her mouth but kept laughing.
Beginning to wonder if I should have just saved the day on my own after all, I entered the old church with her close behind.
It was too dark to see much inside and for a moment we just stood and listened. I could hear voices, but they did not seem to be too close, so I chanced turning on the torch on my phone. Keeping it pointed downwards, I checked out our surroundings.
We were in a small, empty room. There was door ahead of us, which Kay walked up to, opened sligthly and peeked through the gap. “It’s very dark,” she whispered. “But I can see pieces of wood piled up where the pews must have been ripped out and broken up by the developer. We’re close to the bottom of the staircase as well. You know, the one that leads up to the balcony.”
We had both sat through weddings and baptisms when we were younger and the church was still open, and we remembered its layout pretty well.
“That’s great,” I whispered back. “Can you see Tyler and the others?”
“Not sure,” she answered. Then said, “Yes. They are at the far end of the church, by the front doors. Someone has just lit a candle and I can see them bright and clear.”
“Ok,” I said. “Let’s try and get up the stairs and into the balcony. That would be a great vantage point to see what they’re up to.”
“Copy that Echo-Leader-Two-Six” Kay replied with a cheeky grin that was clear even in the gloom of the small room.
We made our way slowly up the staircase. There was no creaking, and we reached the balcony without Tyler or the other two having any idea they were not alone.
And now being spied on.
Until Kay tapped me on the shoulder, interrupting my staring and listening.
“Why did they get off the boat down the coast and not in the village?” she whispered. We were almost touching, and I could feel her breath on my skin.
I was tingling all over because of this as I whispered back, “If the storm had not driven everyone else indoors, they could have easily been seen if they had disembarked in the harbour. There was much less chance of them being spotted if they came into the village on foot.”
“And what now?” she asked.
I did not know and shrugged.
A few moments later things became clearer.
Tyler’s phone rang. He listened without saying anything then put his phone back in his pocket, turned to the other two and said, “That was my brother. He has been listening in on the police channel. A tree has been blown down by the high winds. It is blocking the road. There’s no way we can drive you out of the village tonight. You’ll need to shelter here. You’ll be safe. No one will know you are here, and then we can take you tomorrow night”
From their body language, they seemed angry about this.
Tyler told them he would get blankets and something to eat and drink for them and headed towards the small room which led to the back door.
Leaving just the four of us in the old church.
Me and Kay, whose closeness to me was making me feel slightly dizzy. And the two people who had been brought here, and who we still knew nothing about.
They started to pace around and one of them pulled back the hood of their sweatshirt. I could see now he was a young man, not much older than myself. His dark hair was cropped short.
And he was with a young woman. She had revealed her face as well. Her long dark hair hung loose over her shoulders.
Kay leant back in close to me and said, “Do you think they have come here to try and escape some awful situation in their country?”
“I don’t know,” I replied, “But even if they have, we still can’t trust them until we know more.”
“No,” Kay said, “Look at them. They are just like you and me, only they are strangers. We need to help them.”
Before I could stop her, she was standing up and walking back down the staircase.
I kept my head down, cursing under my breath, while she made her way towards them.
They saw her – there was no way they could not – and stood facing her. They seemed tense, uncertain.
“It’s ok,” Kay said. “Don’t be afraid.”
She was only a few feet away from them when the young man looked her straight in the eye and raised his right hand. His palm facing her, he spread his fingers and continued to stare at her. Even from a distance I could sense the intensity of his gaze.
All of a sudden, Kay’s legs buckled and she fell to the ground, where she lay unmoving.
I felt myself panicking. I was losing it and no idea what to do.
I could only watch as the young woman approached Kay, leant over her, and said something which shocked me to my core:
“I will feed on her first, brother.”
The young man shook his head.
“No, sister,” he responded. “We should not feed, not here in this small place. We do not want to draw attention to ourselves. When we reach London, we will be two strangers in a city of strangers and there can choose our prey without fear of discovery. For now, let her remain in the trance and we will be gone when she wakes with no memory of us. But be assured, my sister, we will drink her blood if the hunger grows too great. We will take that risk.”
As he said these last words, he smiled and drew back his lips.
A wave of cold terror passed through me.
I could see his teeth.
His long, curved fangs. They looked razor sharp.
And I knew deep inside, in the part of me that was instinctively afraid of the dark, that he was not human.
That he was a Vampire.
The woman he had called sister was smiling as well and her fangs were revealed in the flickering candlelight.
She was like him. An evil creature of the night.
And Kay lay helpless at their feet.
I could not wait for their grotesque appetites to spiral and for them to hurt her. I had to act now. I had to save Kay.
Not caring about keeping out of sight anymore, I leapt to my feet and ran down the staircase.
Only, before I knew it, I was not running. I was falling.
I’d tripped over my own feet and was tumbling awkwardly done the stairs.
I landed in a heap, winded and hurting in loads of places. I scrambled back to my feet and stumbled forwards.
The Vampires watched me. They both had narrow smiles on their faces. I could tell they were laughing on the inside at me.
They thought I was a joke, not a threat.
Well, I would show them!
I gritted my teeth and ran at them screaming.
I was on a collision course and made a fist, ready to lash out, but they stepped out of the way with lightning speed and my momentum carried me into a pile of broken wood.
I skidded along until I came to a halt. Pain flared in my leg. There was a piece of wood sticking in my thigh.
I grimaced, took a deep breath and pulled it out. Its tip was sharp and covered in my blood. I looked away from it before I puked and turned my attention to the Vampires. “You… leave… my friend… alone,” I gasped.
They laughed out loud at this.
I could feel the world around me blurring and starting to spin and knew I must be close to passing out.
That couldn’t happen.
I took a deep breath and grabbed a second longer piece of broken wood and used it as a crutch to help me get to my feet.
Then inspiration struck me.
I put the two lengths of wood together, making a cross, which I held high in front of them.
“Take that,” I yelled and waited for them to cover their faces and start hissing in agony.
Instead, the man walked calmly towards me and said, “Some parts of our legend are true, others were invented by people who needed to get out more.”
Then he fixed me with his gaze and raised his hand.
I could not let him put me in a trance as well.
In desperation, I lashed out with the sharp tipped bloodied piece of wood.
I could only hope that piercing a Vampire’s heart with a makeshift wooden stake was grounded in truth, not myth.
The Vampire looked at me. His eyes were wide with shock. His hands grasped the section of wood that protruded from his chest. Then his skin began to crack and fall away, and he opened his mouth as if to scream, but his jaws were nothing now but naked bone. With shocking speed his whole body collapsed, until all that was left of him was a pile of dust lying on the floor.
I stared at this, transfixed.
His sister cried out mournfully then turned to me and said in a voice pulsing with anger, “You will die for this. It will be a slow, agonising death. Your screams of pain will be exquisite to me.”
She took a step towards me.
Then gasped.
Looked down.
The point of a wooden stake was sticking out of her chest. She staggered, tried to turn and see who had done this to her.
The other end of the stake on which the Vampire was impaled was held by Kay – who said, “No one messes with my friends.”
The Vampire snarled but it was too late, her body was already breaking apart and falling away and soon she too was nothing but a pile of dust on the floor.
I smiled grimly and staggered over to the front doors of the church. I started to push at them.
Kay understood and joined me.
The rotting wood soon gave way, and we opened the doors as wide as we could, then stood and watched as the wind swirled through the old church, scattering the Vampires’ remains and making sure the foul creatures would never walk this earth again.