Madison trudged along, one foot in front of the other, beating out a rhythm as she crunched over the loose earth. Her legs began to ache but she ignored the discomfort and kept going. She would see Alex soon, she knew it. Maybe even tonight. It felt like months since she’d laid eyes on him, although it must only have been a few days. The evening at the ice rink seemed like a lifetime away. He must know she was here in Turkey and when night fell he would sense her and come for her. But what if he wasn’t here? He could just as easily be back in England, not knowing where she was. The thought made her ill.
Maddy reckoned she’d been walking for several hours now. The sun had risen as far as it wanted before losing heart and sinking a little way back down again, behind her to the west. She wanted to put her hand beneath the pale orb and push it up higher in the sky. She needed more time. How was she going to reach civilisation before nightfall? She didn’t dare think of the alternative. She couldn’t go back to that dismal cell under the ground.
Hunger gnawed away at Maddy’s insides, but to risk stopping would be stupid so she ate on the go. A soft pear, more bread and cheese and some water. It didn’t do much. She was still hungry and now tiredness was creeping through her body too. All that remained of the food were some raisins, a small crust of bread and an apple. She could easily have gobbled the whole lot down, but she made herself save the rest for later in case she was stuck out here all night. The thought made her want to curl up in a ball. If she was still out here after dark, she didn’t fancy her chances.
What if she kept walking and walking and never reached anywhere? She could die out here. It was cold enough. She thought Cappadocia was supposed to be a major tourist destination – So where were all the bloody tourists? Not here. What she would give to see a group of hikers right now with backpacks full of food and thermos flasks of tea. Her stomach growled again. She began to feel faint. The balls of her feet felt raw and blistered, her toes numb with cold. But she couldn’t slow down. By now they might have realised she was gone. They might have sent people after her. The thought made her stop daydreaming about food and pick up her pace again. Maddy told herself to stop worrying. If she just kept moving, she’d eventually find someone to help her. She had to.
The sky bleached out, the sun intermittently fading and reappearing behind a froth of icy sky. Please God, don’t let it snow, she thought, picturing herself lost in a blizzard, freezing to death. She heard the whine of the wind, but that couldn’t be right because the air had become still and hushed. So where was that noise coming from? Maddy suddenly felt a tremor of fear. Holding her breath, she made herself stop walking and turn around. Staring into the far distance from where she’d come, she scanned the wintry landscape. Her eyes alighted on something – a spot in the distance where a line of dust was being thrown into the air. She saw another line adjacent to it. And another. Squinting, Maddy concentrated on the dust clouds. The lines were moving towards her.
With a thud of dread, she realised she knew exactly what that whining sound was - The sound of distant motorcycles. She told herself not to panic, to think rationally. They might not be anything to do with her. But it was too much of a coincidence that they were coming from the west and heading her way. Her heart pounded. How long would they take to reach her? Ten, fifteen minutes? Longer? She couldn’t tell. At the moment, they were still specks in the distance. Her best bet was to hide somewhere. She’d nearly reached the cliffs and the ground was hillier here. There might be some kind of cave she could crawl into. But the problem was, it would be dark soon. And when the vampires came out to play, no cave would keep her safe.
Maddy breathed slowly in and out to quell the panic. The bikes were still specks. Okay, she needed to get further towards the cliffs. Maddy broke into a slow run, ignoring her aching legs and the pain in her chest. If she ever got out of this situation, she was going to get seriously fit when she got home. She was almost at the cliffs now. The rocks at the base were smooth and rounded, reminding Maddy of burnt meringues. If she couldn’t climb up them, the only alternative was to go around and there wasn’t time for that. Just a few more minutes and she would hit the first set of big rocks. She put in a last spurt of energy. Had they spotted her already? They probably had binoculars. Maybe they were looking at her right now. Don’t think about that, just keep moving.
Soon, the sand-coloured boulders forced her to stop. They were too steep, blocking her way and trapping her between the cliff and her pursuers. She stood for a moment, holding her sides and gasping for breath. The motorbike whines were louder now, deeper, more of a roar and she thought she heard a man’s voice shout something. She skirted the base of the cliff, desperately searching for somewhere to hide - a cave, a hole … anything.
Suddenly she spied a narrow gap between two boulders. It wasn’t very large, but she should be able to squeeze herself in. Once through, she saw it led upwards through the rocks. It was a narrow path. Maddy couldn’t believe her luck. She began to clamber gratefully along its path. The track was muddy, studded with stones and thick ice. It looked as though it might be a dried-up stream bed and she traced it upwards, zigzagging through the cliffs. Patches of ice made her slip and stumble, grabbing at the rocks to steady herself.
After a while, she stopped and crouched behind a rock, peering down to see if they were still following. Yes. She could see the motorbikes clearly now. There were four of them, their riders wearing sheepskin coats and woollen hats. If she hadn’t managed to find this pathway, they would have spotted her clearly by now. They momentarily disappeared from her line of sight, having reached the base of the cliff. Then she caught sight of them again as they split off into two pairs and rode along the edge. Presumably they assumed she had gone around and were hoping to catch up to her. She prayed they would keep going and not double back. But even if she lost the bikers, she still had the problem of the fast-setting sun and an even worse set of pursuers.
Her only hope now was that on the other side of these cliffs would be a town, or a village or a hotel or something, anything, as long as it wasn’t more rocks and stones and wilderness. If she could find someone with a phone, she could call Alex and the others. She continued to climb up the ever steepening track, her fingers and toes still numb with cold. She wasn’t thinking about anything anymore, just the need to move as fast as she could. The need to reach the top and see what lay beyond. She could no longer hear the motorcycles. Good. That was one less thing to worry about for the moment. She must be about halfway up the cliff by now. She turned and looked back, instantly hit by a wave of vertigo.
‘Don’t look down,’ she whispered to herself.
Turning her attention back to the track, she rounded the next sharp bend and gave a short scream of terror. There was a man blocking her path and he had a knife.
Chapter Twenty Seven
Cappadocia, 575 AD
*
The smell was awful – foetid and stifling - and all around her, groans and whimpers mingled with the sound of children crying. She felt hot and cold at the same time, and was so tired and stiff she could barely move. Aelia opened her eyes and instantly panicked. She couldn’t see! Was she blind? She blinked furiously, but everything remained black. Stretching her hands out around her, she realised she was wedged in between several bodies. She stifled a scream. Were the bodies alive or dead? She sat up.
‘Hello?’ she said, hearing the fear in her voice. ‘Where are we? I can’t see anything.’
‘We’re in hell,’ came a weary reply. A man’s voice, quite close to her.
‘Were they demons?’ she asked. ‘Before in the hall.’
‘Demons, yes.’
‘God, save us from this horror,’ a woman moaned.
Aelia began to make out vague shapes, her eyes adjusting to the darkness.
‘Does anyone have a light?’ she asked.
‘Do you think we’d be lying in the dark if we did,’ someone replied.
‘Why are we still alive?’ Aelia asked. ‘Why didn’
t they kill us?’
‘They like our blood,’ the man answered. ‘This is their food store. They’re saving us for later.’
Not too late then, Aelia realised. There was still time to put her plan in motion.
‘Why did they bother to feed us?’ she asked. ‘Why the music and the dancers? Why was everybody celebrating?’
‘The celebration was for them, not us,’ the man said. ‘Only we didn’t know it, did we. We’re being kept like animals, fed and watered and ripe for the slaughter.’
‘Shut up will you!’ A woman’s voice floated through the gloom. ‘The children don’t need to hear any of that.’
‘Sorry,’ the man replied. ‘But what does it matter. We’re all dead anyway.’
‘For God sake!’ the woman yelled. ‘Someone shut that idiot up.’
More children began to cry and soon everyone was shouting and arguing. There must have been an awful lot of people in the room. Aelia pulled her knees up towards her body, trying to make herself as small as possible so she wasn’t touching anyone else. The bodies next to her were unmoving and she had the horrible feeling they were dead. Her eyes were still adjusting and she could now make out the outlines of people and the pale curves of their frightened faces.
‘Will the demons come back for us?’ Aelia asked, facing in the direction where she thought the man was. ‘Hello!’ She raised her voice above the noise. ‘Does anyone know if they will come back for us?’
‘We don’t know anything,’ a woman replied. ‘They might just leave us in here to rot. I’m so thirsty. Is there any water?’
‘If anyone has any water, please, I’m begging you, let me have a sip,’ someone else cried.
Aelia’s leather bag was still slung across her body. She still had the waterskin in it, but she couldn’t announce the fact – there would be a riot.
‘Is there anybody here from Selmea?’ she asked.
‘Selmea?’ the man’s voice snapped back at her. ‘This whole thing started in Selmea. It was their idea to build this godforsaken place. I’ll kill anyone who says they’re from Selmea.’
She’d been about to ask if anyone knew her family, but that didn’t seem like such a good idea now. A soft hand grasped hers and an old woman whispered in her ear.
‘I’m from Selmea. Who are you?’
‘Aelia Laskarina,’ she whispered back with some trepidation.
The woman was silent for a moment. ‘Ahh,’ she finally said. ‘The Laskarina girl. You’re still alive then.’
‘Yes,’ she said defiantly. And then more contritely: ‘Yes.’
‘Good for you. But it didn’t make much difference in the end. Now we’re here …’
‘Have you seen my family? Are they down here too?’
‘I saw them at the entrance, before we descended, but I haven’t seen them since. I haven’t seen my family either. I don’t suppose I shall ever see them now.’
Aelia squeezed the woman’s hand. ‘We can’t give up yet. What about me? A few years ago, I was almost sentenced to death, but I’m still alive. Tell me something – if you could save your family by sacrificing yourself, would you do it?’
‘I’m going to die anyway,’ the woman replied. ‘I have two sons and they have families of their own. I would do anything to save them, of course I would. But what can I do? A feeble old woman?’
‘I don’t know,’ Aelia replied. But she did know. And she would have to do it. She had to do it before the demon creatures came back for her and it was too late. What Mislav had done to her was unthinkable. And the look on his face before he had done it was terrifying. His whole face had changed. And those teeth! She put her fingers to her throat. It felt bruised and tender. There was no time to waste.
She reached beneath the folds in her tunic and untied the strip of material which held the box in place. With shaking hands she took the box out, holding it tightly. If she dropped it in here she might never find it again. She was terrified of opening it, even though she knew she had no choice. But once she did open it there would be no going back.
The widow had told her that if she entered the city and found it inhabited by the night demons, she was to infect herself with the plague. Just a small piece of infected tissue was all it would take. It would surely kill her, but if the demons drank her blood, it would hopefully kill them too. She prayed the widow was right and that it was only transmitted through the blood, otherwise, opening the box would do more damage to everyone here than it would to the demons. But she had to take the risk.
Once a demon was infected, it would also pass on the infection to the humans it drank from. These humans in turn would pass it onto the other demons who drank from them, and so on. This was the part Aelia was worried about - giving the disease to other humans. But what other choice did she have? As the old woman had just said, they were all going to die anyway. Better to die trying to save everyone, than as a meal for demons. If she thought too much about it, she would do nothing and then it would be too late.
The shouting and arguing had faded away now and all she could hear were a few sobs and moans and some hushed conversation.
Aelia manoeuvered herself into a cross-legged position and held the box over her lap in case she dropped it. Stuck to the base of the box, was a tiny blade made from bone which she snapped away from the wood. She used her fingers to feel where the box was sealed and ran the blade carefully around the edge. The blade was still sticky, and she re-attached it to the box. Holding her breath, she prised off the tiny lid. She tentatively put her forefinger inside the box and felt something gelatinous and soft. Aelia gagged and tried to steady her breathing. If she threw up in here, she wouldn’t be thanked. She rested the box in her lap, pushed up the sleeve of her tunic and picked up the blade again, holding it above her arm.
Clearing her mind of the horror, she thought of her family. Of her sisters’ laughter and her mother’s comforting arms. Of her father’s good humour and of the cosy dwelling where she grew up. She thought of the cool stream where she had paddled in her bare feet and of the beautiful grey horse she had owned for one afternoon. She ran the tiny knife firmly across the soft flesh on her forearm. A warm sting spread across the skin and she dropped the blade. It was lost, but she no longer needed it. Using her thumb and forefinger, she lifted out the contents of the box and rubbed them into her fresh wound. The widow had said this was the quickest way to contract the disease. She also dabbed it onto the sore spot on her neck, but it was so painful she thought she might pass out.
‘What have you got there?’
It was the man’s voice. Was he talking to her?
‘Hey, girl, I said what have you got? Is it water? Have you got water?’
She felt a hand reach out and grab at her. And then another hand. The box and its contents fell away from her.
‘No, no. I don’t have any water,’ she said and tried to push the grasping hands away.
‘What’s this?’ A woman’s voice. ‘She has a bag.’
Someone was pulling at the leather bag, still slung across her body. It contained half a skin of water and some food. Aelia suddenly felt really thirsty. But now there were too many people grabbing at her body and her clothes. The bag was wrenched from her body.
‘Stop! Leave me alone!’ she cried. But the bodies were piling on top of her until she could hardly breathe. They were going to kill her. She was going to suffocate in here. ‘Please,’ she whimpered. ‘Please. Stop.’
Chapter Twenty Eight
Present Day
*
The man towered above her on the narrow rocky path. Maddy stared at him, momentarily turned to stone by a swift paralysing fear. It was one of the bikers, wearing a tan sheepskin coat and aviator style sunglasses. The knife in his hand caught the rays of the dying sun and made her blink, shaking her out of her paralysis. She took a step backwards, willing herself to turn and run. The man began to talk, his voice low and guttural, speaking a language she didn’t know. And she didn’t think she w
anted to know it either. Whatever he was saying it didn’t sound good or friendly or like anything she would want to hear.
After what seemed like an age, she turned and stumbled away from him. He lunged after her with the knife, but she was too quick. Going back down the way she had come was not as easy as the journey up. For a start, now she was able to see just how high she had climbed and flashes of vertigo almost made her fall. Also, the sun had reappeared from behind its haze of cloud and shone directly into her eyes, half-blinding her. After feeling cold for so many hours, now a warm fear flashed through her and the sweat prickled down her stomach, her back and under her arms.
Heavy, slithering footsteps from behind made Maddy almost throw herself down the track to get away from her pursuer. She crashed into rocks, half falling down the cliffside. As she ran, she thought that if this giant chasing her was one of the bikers, then where were the others?
She got her answer straight away. Through the laser beam rays of the sun and the mess of boulders, she glimpsed three motorbikes at the base of the cliff. Two figures stood on the ground and one sat astride his bike. All three squinted up. She was being flushed out; heading straight into a trap. It was over.
Her pursuer was slow and she could hear him muttering and cursing quite a way behind. If she was going to do anything, it would have to be now while she was far enough away from the bottom of the cliff for the others to see. Quickly, she ducked behind a large rock, squatting and holding her breath. The temptation to peep out was overwhelming, but she resisted and stayed completely out of sight.
Twenty or so seconds later, she heard him crashing down the path. She squeezed her eyes shut as her heart pounded, sure that any moment she would be discovered. He passed within a few inches of her hiding place, but pretty soon she saw his back disappearing down the cliffside. However, Maddy knew it wasn’t over; he would soon realise his mistake, so she came out from behind the rock and began to scramble up the track once more.