Rory

The door of the house they stood in front of swung open with a crash. Eagerly, a woman with wavy auburn hair wearing a simple rough-spun dress moved towards Rory. She flashed a toothy smile that lit up her face. As she walked, the overgrown plants in the path parted, allowing her to pass. “It’s wonderful to finally meet you. I’m Nadine.” She held out her arms and pulled Rory into a tight embrace. The earthy scents of rosemary and sage rolled off of her in waves.

Doc said, “We were hoping you might take her in until-”

With a brisk wave of her hand and a sharp click of her tongue, she cut off his words. “I have a room all set up for her.”

“You knew I was coming?” Rory asked.

“Well, yes, and no. I’ve been waiting the past few years for the last of our merry little band to show up.”

“I’m the last of us?”

“The last witch to arrive in this time? Heavens no. But the tea leaves have been very vocal about you.”

Dazed, Rory could only nod and worry about what she’d gotten herself into.

“Why don’t you all come in and have some tea? There’s some bread cooling and stew bubbling away. Before we eat, I’ve got a hot bath already drawn and some clothes that should fit. Go on.”

Rory pulled Doc’s massive jacket from around her shoulders and gagged when she caught the odor coming off it. Sheepishly, she handed it back to him. “Sorry, I didn’t realize how bad that water smells until it started drying.”

“I’ll be sure to wash it first thing,” he said and winked at her.

Sven hopped from the cart and attempted to tidy his hair. The strands bounced back into its normal disorder despite his effort. “Found you these.” he said, pulling a glass jar from his bag and handed it to Nadine. “Just kept putting all the seeds in here as I found em. Not sure what all they are though.”

She held the jar at eye level, shaking it as she inspected the different sizes and shapes within. “There’s actually things in here that I’ve been needing. They’re mostly inert, but I should be able to bring them back around. Thank you, Sven.”

“It’s nothing. Figured I’d see if they could be any use. But, um, a couple of those seeds, if they start to… I dunno, bud, would you mind letting me know?”

“We’ll see,” she said with exaggerated disappointment. “Go on Rory, the waters going to get cold and you—please don’t take offense—you smell disgusting. I’ll show you to the bathroom. Make yourselves at home boys, just don’t start eating until we’re all at the table.”

The inside of the house was just as Rory imagined a witch like Nadine would call home. The walls and ceilings were off-white and striped with dark brown to resemble a Tudor cottage. A large brick fireplace sat in the farthest wall with makeshift wooden furniture scattered throughout the living and dining areas. Bundles of drying flowers and herbs hung from the ceilings, forcing Doc and Sven to duck and weave their way to the long table and benches. A metal spiral staircase gave access to the second floor and bedrooms with the bathroom tucked just behind it.

Rory nearly cried in delight at the clawfoot tub filled with bubbles, but let out a delighted gasp at the simple porcelain toilet beside it. “Plumbing?”

“Mostly,” Nadine said with a slight chuckle. “That feeds to a treatment area where we extract the fertilizer and the other waste is run through natural filters to use for watering the gardens. Go on, jump in the tub. Let me know if you need anything.” She gave Rory’s hand a squeeze and closed the door behind her.

Overjoyed, she stripped off the ruined clothes of her past and stepped into the intoxicatingly warm water. Her sore muscles gradually loosened and relaxed while the stench of poison water drifted off her body. Only the pleasant aromas of tea tree, mint, soapberry and rose remained. If it wasn’t for the hungry people waiting for her, she could have stayed there for hours.

But…

There was stew, she thought. Her stomach groaned in enthusiasm and she jumped out.

Folded and stacked on a shelf was the bundle of clothing Nadine had mentioned. The undergarments and socks were fairly generic, but the white rough-spun cotton shirt and black leather pants fit her curves perfectly. A pair of leather boots fit just as well. How did she know my sizes?

“Is there somewhere I can dispose of these?” she asked, holding her ruined clothes by two fingers. She expected only three people in the small living area and jumped after seeing a stranger glowering at her. The new arrival, a tall slender woman in white robes, stood with her hand on the door. Doc stood next to her, clenching his fists.

The woman narrowed her eyes at Rory and hissed at him. “There. Do you see now? Our world is different from hers. She’s already willing to waste valuable resources.”

“We’ll fill her in on everything. But for now, she needs time to rest. Let her eat and sleep. You don’t understand-”

“No, Doctor James,” she said. “You don’t understand. The world is a dangerous place that cares nothing for little girls and their beauty sleep. She’ll go tonight. She’ll secure the count. And then, and only then, will she be allowed back into Alma. Am I clear?”

“Oi, crystal clear you ripe-”

“Sven.” Nadine’s expression was a hard mask as she shook her head at him.

“Good. I’m glad we’re all in agreement.” Her disapproving gaze lingered on Rory as she left.

Like a mother hen, Nadine sprung into immediate action. “Doc, there’s a basket of wash in the back, take Rory’s soiled things there, please? Rory, help me dish out this stew for you all to eat on the road. Sven, is Betts ready for another journey already?”

“Not seein’ much other option.”

“All right. Give her some water, at least, before you go. Grab some apples and carrots for her too.”

“First off, who the hell was that? What does she mean by secure the count?” Rory asked, wrapping a loaf of bread in cloth.

“It’s a disgusting task and I’m sorry you’ve been asked to do it.” Nadine took a breath. “You have to count the corpses of dead Blueskins.”

“Excuse me?” Blood rushed to Rory’s head, causing it to throb painfully.

“I’ll explain on the way. We need to go,” Doc said. He grabbed the basket of dinner and headed out behind Sven.

“I’m not going anywhere until someone tells me who the hell that was telling me where I need to go when I’m tired and hungry and-” No one listened and that pissed Rory right off. “What the hell is happening?” The power of her voice erupted, adding regret to her list of already too many emotions.

“That was the Catherine. You’re being sent to count the vampire’s kills because she is a manipulative bitch,” Nadine said and covered her mouth.

Rory moaned. “I didn’t mean to use it. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Nadine forced a smile, smoothed her skirt and took a deep breath. “These things happen around here. But we’ll work on that when there’s time. For now, you three need to get going.”

Pushed through the door, Rory climbed back into the cart between Doc and Sven. They ate in silence as they traveled. The only noise was the scraping of spoons on bowls. The stew was a little slice of heaven, full of tender carrots, bites of potato, and lean meat. She cleaned her dish with the last crust of still warm bread, sucking away any gravy left on her fingertips.

“Look, I’m sorry things went this way for you,” Doc finally said.

“What is it exactly I’m supposed to do? Count dead bodies? Why?”

“The vampires keep Alma safe. Each kill in Alma’s service is placed in a spot where someone from camp comes out to count each week. We take anything useful off the corpses and burn the rest.”

“And why?” Sven said. “Well, that’s a mystery, but I’ve got a theory on that bit. See, vampires need blood, yeah? Who’s got blood, you ask? Well, humans do. And there’s a lot of them all around Alma. See, I think there’s tunnels underneath where the vampires wait till some poor bastard goes to bed. Then they pop outta their secret bunker and drink you like afternoon tea. Hell, maybe they even have a go at the old lady while they’re there. I wouldn’t put it past the sick fucks.”

“But if they kill them, why isn’t there room for new people in Alma that often?”

“Didn’t say they drank ‘em dry, did I? Just a nip, like tea. If I’d said ‘like they was poppin’ off to the pub’ then they’d be dead. Keep up.”

Doc shook his head. “C’mon, Sven. Enough with the conspiracies. You’re going to have poor Rory thinking Alma is a vampire feeding ground.”

“Isn’t it?” Sven asked.

“Who do you know of that’s been drank? Huh?” Doc crossed his arms.

“You’re assumin’ they’d remember, mate.”

Rory glanced sideways at Doc and asked, “Has anyone found tunnels? I mean, Nadine told me about the drainage system, so if that was the case, wouldn’t they have found some when it was built?”

“Nah. They’re a tricky lot. Or maybe someone did find some, and they was tricked out of seein’ it.” Sven nodded to himself in agreement. “Yeah. That’s probably what happened.”

“Thanks, Sven. I’ll be sure to check the house for vampire trap doors,” Rory said.

“Good to get a second pair of eyes on that. Couldn’t find any in Nadine’s place, but that don’t mean they aren’t there.”

“Did the Catherine explain why we needed to go tonight?” she asked, feeling the need to change the subject. The thought of vampires hiding in underground tunnels would only keep her awake at night. Regardless of how little sense it made.

“It’s a bloody suicide mission.”

“Sven, that’s enough. While I don’t disagree about the situation, it’s what we have to do. Sooner we get this done, the sooner Rory can get used to her new surroundings. Groaning about them doesn’t change the orders.” His shoulders slumped and he let out a deep sigh. “We do this fast enough, we’ll be done and on our way back to Alma before full dark hits. Sven, are you okay to help down there? I just can’t do it anymore.”

“Dreams again?”

Doc said nothing, only grunted and pulled his hair back with a length of leather.

Silence fell upon them again. All around her, the shadows lengthened as the evening grew longer. Behind each tree, her mind summoned the image of the man at table five hiding in wait. A twig snapped underneath the cart’s wheel and she envisioned the figure of a red eyed stalker racing behind them.

Bett’s slowed to a stop, and Rory’s heart hammered in her chest. Her stomach flopped, threatening to lose the meal she’d just given it.

“Let’s get to it then,” Sven said. He jumped from the cart and stretched.

“If something happens, yell for me and I’ll be down there in a flash.” Doc’s face had grown pale with a haunted look in his eyes.

“Are you okay?” Rory asked.

“Yeah. I’ll be fine. Just seen a bit too much death in my day.”

She gave his hand a quick squeeze and jumped down to meet Sven.

“Take these,” Sven said, handing her a military duffel bag and one of the cloth napkins from dinner, doused with strong menthol. “Check pockets and take boots. Find any clothing worth keepin’, take them too. It sounds like a shite job and it is, but the last store sellin’ Levi’s closed shop a few hundred years ago.”

She fumbled the bag onto her shoulder and made her first mistake of the night, looking up. The mountain soared over her, making her feel smaller than she’d ever felt in her life. Dazed and sick, she wanted nothing more than to lie down and go back to sleep. Possibly even wake up in her little apartment.

“We’re wasting daylight. Tie that round your face and follow me.”

Solemnly, she nodded and tied the scented cloth into a makeshift mask.

He pressed forward, taking careful steps down a sharp incline. Behind him, she slipped on a loose rock, but maintained her balance. The area with the stored corpses came into view and she gasped at the number of motionless bodies.

They really are blue. Before when they’d mentioned Blueskins, she thought they might have been bluish or they had tattoos, but they were a solid blue. “I don’t think I can do this. It’s just too many,” she said, swallowing hard.

“Ever seen a dead body before?”

“No.”

“Well, now you’ve seen like fifty or so. I reckon you’re a pro. You take left, I’ll take right.”

“I mean…”

“Fine then, you take right, I’ll take left.” Sven walked over to the first corpse and began to rummage.

Carefully, she stepped to the furthest corner, deciding she could work her way back to the path and run as fast as she could back to the cart. She hadn’t even seen her room yet, but she longed for the blankets that would cover and hide her away from this.

Rory reached towards the closest body, a man with white hair and beard that made him look like an overgrown version of a cartoon from her childhood. She recoiled, realizing she hadn’t built up the nerve to touch him. She rolled her shoulders, bounced on her heels and hovered her hand towards the dead man. His fingers twitched and grabbed her wrist in an iron grip. Terrified, she tried to scream, but the man put a blue palm against her mouth.

He spun her to face Sven, who wandered around the piles of dead, oblivious to her plight. Another Blueskin stood up behind him with a rock in his fist. She bit down on the hand holding her mouth. “No,” she shouted, before stars burst in front of her eyes and sharp pain followed. Warmth trickled down the back of her neck and Sven grew further and further away until nothing remained but black.