Dead Souls Volume One (Parts 1 to 13) Page 32
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Ephram and the doctor stood somberly as the undertakers carried a coffin out from the surgery. Maximo and Catherine Marco followed, their faces etched with stunned grief, as if they had not yet been able to come to terms with what had happened to their daughter. Nearby, a few people from nearby houses had come to watch the beginning of Alice's final journey. Death was still a rare occurrence on Thaxos, especially the death of one so young.
Doctor Burns took a drag on his latest cigarette, but he said nothing.
Ephram watched as the coffin was taken along the street, beginning the short journey to the Marco house so that it could be laid out and the lid removed. The funeral would take place in the morning, just a few hours later, and everyone in the town would surely attend. After all, Alice Marco had been a popular girl, well-liked by everyone, and news of her death was already spreading like wild-fire. Soon the whole town would be in mourning, and Ephram realized that this was his only chance to make people understand the fact that Edgar Le Compte was the one who had caused so much havoc on the island.
“I delivered that girl twenty-one years ago,” Doctor Burns said as the coffin was carried around the corner and finally disappeared from view. “Now I have to perform an autopsy, and then I have to sign her death certificate. That's now the way the world is supposed to work, is it? The old should not be burying the young.”
Ephram merely stared at the empty street corner, imagining Alice's body in the coffin.
“Hey,” Doctor Burns said after a moment, nudging Ephram's arm. “Say something. With that look in your eyes, you're starting to scare me.”
“Men like Edgar Le Compte are not of this world,” Ephram muttered darkly, feeling the whiskey still burning his stomach. “They walk upon it and they look like us, and they speak with words that they have borrowed from our mouths, but really they have no place amongst normal, god-fearing men. They are serpents, masters of disguise, and they make their way through our lives, probing for our weaknesses and using them against us.”
“You make him sound like a monster.”
“You know the stories.”
“I know the stories about his grandfather,” Doctor Burns replied. “I know about the torture that took place up there, although I'm afraid that I draw the line when it comes to the more superstitious nonsense that gets peddled from time to time. Plus, might I remind you that Edgar Le Compte is his own man. No matter what he has done, it's unfair to act as if he should be blamed for the crimes of a man who disappeared so many years ago.”
“And yet here we are,” Ephram continued, “already burying victims. You know what they use to say about the old Le Compte, don't you? They said he was a -”
“Please,” Doctor Burns replied, “let's not -”
“They said he was a vampire,” Ephram said firmly. “They said he drank the blood of his victims, and that he never aged. They say that he came from a long line of vampires, and that they carried out rituals on the north side of the island!”
“You're drunk.”
“Have you see him?” Ephram asked. “I have. I've also seen pictures of his grandfather, and I can assure you that the resemblance is more than just a little uncanny. It's almost as if... I don't know, maybe those old stories were true after all. Maybe things are only going to get worse. Maybe we should accept that what is happening here on Thaxos is more than simply the return of a family. Maybe... it's the return of one particular man.”
“You need to go home and get some rest,” Doctor Burns replied. “Ephram, think about poor Alice. This isn't the time to be babbling about all this wild nonsense. Do you think Alice would be happy to see you in this state?”
Ephram paused for a moment as he realized that there was no way he could deal with the problem alone. There was still a part of him that felt Edgar was merely a man, but the whiskeys had loosened his mind and he was more willing to contemplate some of the wilder accusations that had, over the years, been leveled against the Le Compte family.
“Drinking isn't the answer,” the doctor continued. “Come on, Ephram, I know you're better than this. You already stink of alcohol, and you're no use to anyone if you disappear into a bottle. Have you tried talking to Isobel Cavaleri? Maybe a visit from the police would give Le Compte a good scare.”
“All she cares about is following the rules.”
“She's a good woman. She's probably just scared about a lynch mob mentality developing in the town, and I don't blame her.”
“Her hands are tied.” Ephram paused for a moment. “I need to go,” he said finally, turning and making his way along the street. His steps were tentative and awkward, befitting a man who at that moment had half a bottle of whiskey sloshing about in his gut.
“What are you going to do?” Doctor Burns called after him.
With tears in his eyes, Ephram didn't answer. He was sick and tired of men like Doctor Burns, men who believed that the danger posed by Edgar Le Compte was merely a figment of a fevered imagination. For months now, Ephram had been warning that the situation on Thaxos would only get worse, and that eventually lives would be lost. Now, finally, the first life had indeed been taken, and it had been a life that was particularly dear to Ephram's heart. By the time he reached the next street, he realized that the grief in his soul was starting to overwhelm him.
Looking up at the night sky, he saw the lights of the mansion. He knew he was drunk, but he also knew that his suspicions were well-founded. Deep in his heart, he was starting to wonder if some of the wilder stories about the Le Compte family might be true after all.