LIFERS Chapter Twenty Two

‘It wasn’t long before I stopped running, Mister Kessler. I couldn’t accept leaving Hal behind for a second time so I went back to try to convince him, to beg him once more to come with me, but when I reached the kennels he wasn’t there.’

Celia adjusted her posture, crossed her legs and laced her fingers over one knee.

‘In these past few months I’ve visited Martinsville and I learned what Hal had done that night to stop my escape from being discovered.

‘When he reached the town hall, he made his way back to the rooms next to where I’d been kept and strangled both girls as they slept. After that he went to a downstairs cupboard where he retrieved the body of a young blonde he’d taken from Chambers earlier that night. The girl was−’

‘Chambers?’

‘Yes, it’s a room where the taken were kept back then,’ she said. ‘The girl was about my size, which, I suppose, was all that really mattered. He put her body in my bed and covered it with blankets. He then placed a candle under each of the three beds and set fire to them, so when the fire was extinguished, they would assume one of the bodies was mine. ’

‘Forgive me for interrupting,’ Larry said. ‘But you said in the last few months you visited Martinsville, does that mean you still have ties with them?’

‘I wouldn’t call them ties as such; it was merely a chance meeting. I was on a business trip in Washington, so I called there on my return journey.’

Larry nodded.

Celia continued.

‘After I left the kennels for a second time I made it to Tarboro Ridge and a few miles beyond where I jumped a freight train headed east, and when I got off I walked around until I found myself up here, by the lake. By then I had a slight fear of water, but I knew they were more afraid, and I needed to rest. I found a small boat moored to a jetty and climbed beneath a tarpaulin sheet.

‘The next thing I know the boat starts to rock and I wake to find the owners, a couple in their late-fifties, bending over and staring at me. They brought me up here to the house and the lady put me to bed where I slept for two days before waking to find the man sat at my bedside with that journal in his hands. That’s when he told me who they were. Doctor Alexander Dyson, head surgeon at Lynchburg County Hospital, and his wife, Amanda, she was the Chief Administrator there at the time.

‘He asked me if all he’d read in the journal was true, but I could tell by the look on his face that he believed every word of it, so I saw no point in lying to him. I told him everything I just told you, except where it had all taken place. They had already worked out that I was pregnant, and that’s when they told me they had a daughter who died fifteen years earlier during childbirth. The little girl she had had been starved of oxygen during labour and suffered brain damage; she died two weeks after that.’ Celia shrugged. ‘Perhaps they saw their daughter in my eyes and found solace in that, who knows?

‘And with Alexander being head surgeon at the biggest hospital in the city, he soon found a way to satisfy my dietary needs. Then, come December, I too gave birth to a baby girl, they treated me like a daughter and Marianna like a granddaughter.’

Larry held both hands up. ‘Miss Brontrose, believe me when I say that I’m as broad-minded as the next guy you’ll meet, but first you say you’re a psychic, then you tell me you’re not, and now you’re telling me you’re a vampire, and how there’s a whole town full of vampires just two hours down the road from here.’

She smiled. ‘Really, Mister Kessler, a vampire? Is that how you see me? And is that how you’d see a mosquito? Or for that matter something as single-minded as a leech? Don’t they live off the blood of others ? And does that make them vampires in your eyes?’

‘No, Miss Brontrose, they’re parasites, mere annoyances, and they don’t kidnap and kill young girls.’

‘And nor do I,’ she rebuked.

‘Perhaps you don’t, but in the very least you’re fully aware of what’s been going on out there, and that makes you one hell of an accessory. You should have gone straight to the police with this information.’

Brenda asked, ‘Why didn’t you go to the police?’

‘Because other government forces would be involved beside the police, and they'd take Marianna and I to a laboratory and keep us there until they'd extracted from us what we have. For myself I care little, for my daughter I care as any mother would.’ She turned to Larry. ‘And if you to go to the police now, Mister Kessler, I’m sure you realise that eventually the same fate would befall us.’

‘And you didn’t think to tell any of this to my partner, to warn him of what he’d be getting into?’

‘No. Telling someone was not what I’d planned on doing. As I said, I gave Mister Pieroni some information as to where he might find the girls who’d been abducted, and hopefully save some of them. If the police were to contact me through him they would have spoken to that same psychic. But like I said, I’m not covering for myself or for those in Martinsville, I’m protecting my daughter.’

‘And where is Marianna now, Miss Brontrose?’

Celia looked at her watch. ‘By now she’ll be out on the lake.’

‘So she’s not like you, then?’ Brenda said.

‘In some ways she is. But in others we couldn’t be more different.’

‘You mean she can tolerate water where you can’t?’

‘Yes she can.’

‘But you told us you weren’t injected,’ Larry said. ‘So why all the changes?’

‘Because I was born of the Jackal, therefore I am him, but it never manifested itself until I turned sixteen. Why it waited until then I believe may have had something to do with puberty. My own natural growth cycle was slowing down so the stem cells waiting to take over kicked in. Since then I’ve inherited all the wrong that Thomas Martins brought upon himself. Though I do try to hide what I am, Mister Kessler, even going as far as dental procedures to correct my teeth. You see, those of Martinsville never smile in front of strangers, but I like to smile.’

‘What dental procedures?’

‘Do you really want to go into that now?’

‘Yes, I do,’ insisted Larry. ‘I’d like to know everything there is to know about you people.’

Celia sighed. ‘Very well. After I read the journal I came to understand why all the changes were going to take place. The modified stem cells my father created all those years ago had only one directive, to survive, and to do that they needed fresh blood cells in order to replicate successfully. Therefore I would require the right equipment, so the stem cells started to make their changes. My teeth began to taper within a few months of me escaping Martinsville. Had I not had them surgically altered they’d be a third longer and very pointed.’

Larry looked to see a perfect set. ‘So why haven’t they grown in that manner since you’ve had them altered?’

‘Because as far as the stem cells were concerned their work was done, biologically the teeth you see don’t belong to me, whereas the stubs beneath them do. And as I still ingest blood, the stem cells can only assume that no more changes in that respect need take place.’

Larry again raised both hands. ‘Okay, let’s say I can accept the fact that your blood needs the blood of others in order to survive, in order for you to survive, but what about the water, Miss Brontrose?’ He pointed to her scarred forefinger. ‘Why does it have such an adverse effect on you?’

‘According to the journal, and during his early experiments, my father discovered his modified stem cells were inhibiting his lab-rats’ ability to absorb potassium from their diet. And although the condition isn’t fatal in itself, it can cause hypokalemia, leading to heart failure. So in a bid to overcome that obstacle, he introduced a minute quantity of potassium into his formula. His notes go on to say how he later discovered the stem cells would not only regenerate the body’s cells endlessly, giving him the longevity he strived for, but they had also reproduced the added potassium in great quantities.’ She raised one eyebrow. ‘Chemistry 101, Mister Kessler; what happens when potassium and water are combined?’

Larry nodded. ‘A violent reaction occurs.’

‘And Marianna hasn’t suffered these changes?’ asked Brenda.

‘She has inherited some, but none with the same detrimental effects that I have. If you care to look at the last two entries in the journal, Mister Kessler, you’ll notice they have been written by me.’

Larry flicked to the final entries and began reading aloud.

‘”On December 5th 1936, unknown to Thomas Martins, his daughter/granddaughter came into this world, whom I named Marianna, and today is her sixteenth birthday. Just how many of my faults she has, or will inherit, remains to be seen. Marianna knows every aspect of my past, and is fully aware that it could be her future.

Alice Robertson.

‘A year has past since Marianna’s 16th birthday, and to date she has shown no adverse affects with regard to her lineage, quite the contrary in fact. She suffers neither bruising nor abrasions, and her strength and ability to ward off all infections have left me in no doubt that I need not be concerned for her future. This morning, as in countless mornings previous, Marianna swam the lake and her skin remains smoother than glass. So it seems Thomas Martins was after all correct. He had indeed found what he was looking for, his fountain of youth. But it was not for his generation, nor the next to embrace without consequence.

Alice Robertson.”’

He looked up. ‘Alice Robertson?’

‘If you move the letters around a little you’ll find me in there somewhere. I rearranged my name in case they tried to trace me.’

Larry stood and walked across the room to look from one of the windows. ‘So how did you know we were working on Alicia Vincent’s case?’

‘Her mother appeared on CNN saying how the police had no clues as to her daughter’s or the other eight missing girls’ whereabouts, so she decided to seek the assistance of a private investigative company called K.P. Investigations. That is you isn’t it, Mister Kessler?’

He turned to look at Brenda. ‘I saw it too, Larry. CNN labelled the report, “Our Missing Angels”.’

To Celia, he said, ‘So how could you be so sure these people from Martinsville were abducting the girls? And how did you know about the chloroform?’

‘Do you remember the disappearance of a number of young girls during the June, July, and August of last year?’ she asked.

‘Yes I do, from May through July; eleven girls went missing, and all in the Winston-Salem and Greensboro areas. The press labelled them “The Salem Slayings”. Remains of two of the girls were found in a basement beneath the house of Michael James Ward. He confessed to taking all eleven but refused say where he’d buried the remains of nine of them. And he’s still sitting on death row. Why do you ask?’

‘Very good, Mister Kessler, but Ward took and killed no more than two of those girls, which is the reason only their remains were found in his basement, the rest of them were taken to Martinsville. He wouldn’t say where he’d buried them because he didn’t take them. He no doubt claimed to have murdered all eleven girls so he’d gain the praise of sick, like-minded individuals. You see, where two deaths make you a murderer, eleven make you an infamous serial killer. And as for the chloroform, I used to live in Martinsville; I knew what went on there.’

‘So,’ Brenda said. ‘If you knew but didn’t tell anyone about those killings, why are you telling us about these?’

‘Because after they'd taken the girls that Ward claimed to be his, I knew I was the only one who could stop them.’
‘And just how were you going to do that, Miss Brontrose?’ said Larry.

‘I believed if I gave them what they needed to survive then they wouldn’t have to go looking for it elsewhere. I thought I would be able to control them to a point where they’d stop taking young girls. And up until two months ago everything was fine.’

‘I knew I’d heard your name somewhere before,’ Brenda said. ‘“The Brontrose Purification Laboratories”, you own one of the biggest blood purifying centres in the US, “PuriCell”.’

‘That’s correct, Miss Wise.’

Larry raised an eyebrow. ‘Blood purifying?’

Celia nodded. ‘We clean blood, Mister Kessler, two-hundred and fifty-thousand litres every month.’

Larry came back to sit in his chair. ‘You clean blood?’

‘Yes, we clean it because not all the blood that people donate, or to be more precise, sell these days, is infection free. It would cost far too much to screen every last drop, so companies like BPL clean it. We run the blood through a thermal regulator which increases its temperature to thirty-nine point nine degrees Celsius, and that kills any virus the blood might contain. But any hotter than that and the Cellular Enzymes begin to falter and the blood dies.’

‘And is this where you get your personal supply from?’

‘No,’ Mister Kessler, I use the blood of cows, pigs, or fowl. Though I do recommend the pig, it tastes the closest.’

Larry ignored the sarcasm but couldn’t resist the comeback. ‘So how does that work, then,' he said. 'Do you fly off and raid the local farm every night?’

‘It works because the Centres for Disease Control and Prevention in Atlanta need animal blood to run tests on for cross-infection of influenza to humans,’ she said. ‘And they too need a supply of uninfected blood. So we clean that, also.’

‘And your kinfolk, did they get a chunk of this animal blood?’

‘Please don’t call them my kinfolk, Mister Kessler, and Yes; I sent them blood, but it wasn’t from any animal. They would only agree to what I asked if the blood was human. Then two months ago they started to take the girls again. So I saw no point in sending any more to them.’

‘But why take the girls if they had this free supply.’ He inclined his head. ‘It was a free supply, wasn’t it?’

‘Yes.’

‘Well then, why would they feel the need to go hunting so to speak? I mean, if you’re larders full of eggs, why raid the chicken coop?’

‘Unless all the eggs in your larder are rotten,’ Brenda said.

‘Is that it, Miss Brontrose? You sent them infected blood and they discovered it and started taking girls again?’

Celia raised her voice. ‘Certainly not. I wanted to stop them after the “Salem Slayings” so I agreed to send them eighteen-thousand litres every month. But if an infected batch got through to them, I didn’t know about it.’

Larry thought he’d match the new decibel level. ‘You didn’t know about it because you sent blood you hadn’t cleaned, they found out, thought you were trying to kill them off, so they decided to go back to their old tricks. Is that pretty close to the mark, Miss Brontrose?’

‘Like I said, I wouldn’t know.’

Larry stood and added another decibel to the volume. ‘Well here’s something you really need to know. We’re calling the police, and you’re going tell them everything you just told us.’

Celia also stood; she picked up the journal and moved over to the fire. ‘I’m sorry, but I’m afraid I can’t let you do that,’ she said, as the journal hit the flames. ‘I will assist you all I can, but I will not allow you to put Marianna’s life in any kind of danger. Because believe me when I say this, Mister Kessler; she is far more precious than you or anyone else could possibly begin to imagine.’

Larry and Brenda looked at one another. Brenda raised a shoulder. ‘It’s better than going to the police with an insane story like this and no proof, Larry,’ she said.

Larry turned to Celia. ‘Damn right you’ll assist, you’re taking us to Martinsville, right now.’

‘So be it,’ she said. ‘Just give me time to change and then we can leave. And by the way, Miss Wise, Martinsville is what you might call a little rugged. Perhaps I could find something for you to change into?’

*

Brenda had chosen her attire for specific reasons, and although the offer was a kind one, she felt Celia Brontrose’s wardrobe might not have the same desired effect she strived for. So she either takes the chance of ruining a great pair of shoes, or walks around for the rest of the day dressed as Ellie May Clampet.

‘That’s very kind of you, Celia, but I’ll pass if you don’t mind.’

‘As you wish. Now, Mister Kessler, do you have any more questions you’d like to ask before I leave you?’

‘Yes, as a matter of fact there is one question. If I needed to kill you, how would I do it?’

Brenda couldn’t believe he’d just asked that. ‘Larry…’

‘It’s okay, Miss Wise, it’s a fair question.’ She looked back to him. ‘We’re not indistructable, Mister Kessler. But unlike you, when we’re wounded we tend to recover within hours; at the very most, a day. But if that wound is severe enough to stop the heart, we die, and, once fatality has occurred, the regeneration properties of our stem cells die with us, leaving no trace of what we once had. So, in answer to your question, you would need to stop my heart in order to stop me,’ she said. ‘Or I’ll just keep getting up and coming back for more. Now, is there anything else before I go?’

Larry shook his head. ‘No.’