19. Come what come may

"In the dark, dark wood, there was a dark, dark house..."

"Miss Drusilla?" Captain Grunwald entered the cell with one of his men. "May I speak to you?"

The lady in white was sitting on the cot with her eyes on the floor and rocking back and forth. Her long dark hair concealed her features while she sang.

"And in that dark, dark house, there was a dark, dark room..."

"I wonder if you'd be able to contact your boyfriend and-"

"And in that dark, dark room, there was a dark, dark cupboard..."

"Miss Drusilla, I want to know if you-"

"And in that dark, dark cupboard, there was a dark, dark shelf..."

"It's useless, Her Captain, she's not cooperating tonight." The corporal refused to take another step forward.

"Are you scared? You have your talisman with you, don't you?" he grinned. "She can't do us any harm."

"And on that dark, dark shelf." She stood up very slowly and began to sway from left to right. "... there was a dark, dark box..." Her feet were light on the ground. She stopped right in front of them.

" Hasn't it been enough with the innocent bystanders that we have provided for you?" Captain Grunwald kept his ground. "Miss Drusilla, I require just a little cooperation here. I need to know-"

"And... in that dark... dark... box...," her voice was now a whisper. "... There was... A Ghost!" She lifted her face. The first thing they noticed was that her features had hardened. Her eyelids were missing and her eyes were yellow. White long fangs replaced her perfectly straight teeth. Although she kept her voice in control, once in a while, she growled.

She transformed so fast that it made them both soldiers step back. They quickly produced the relics they were carrying under their shirts. She stopped but still grinned. Behind her, they saw a shadow moving towards them. Drusilla stared at Captain Grunwald.

"Why, Captain, are you scared yet?" She kept her gazed on him. "Your mamma is calling you... She made cupcakes for you and your little friends... Go to the highest tower, she's waiting for you..."

Grunwald began to picture his mother on the roof with a tray of cupcakes. He could almost smell them. Deep inside, he had the urge to run upstairs to meet her... Only discipline and the amulet helped him to keep his head clear.

"Enough!" He straightened up. "If you don't want to cooperate, we'll cut on your rations."

"Poor, little soldiers," she pouted. "Ten little soldiers all in a row. A shot rings out-"

The ghost of the castle appeared as a shadow that charged against the corporal and crushed him against the wall. He fell down dead instantly.

"... down to nine..."

This time, Captain Grunwald retreated and locked the door. "That was an impressive trick, but ineffective. I'll bring you more blood but you must start working for us. We know how to deal with your boyfriend. We may hurt him if we want to."

"Can I watch?" Her face softened back to her natural beauty. "I haven't tortured him in a long, long time."

()o()o()

"You're barking, Spike. Utterly barking mad!" Newkirk could hardly breathe after a titanic race around the city. Although he did not know much about vampires, he could see that his traveling companion was holding back to give him time to catch up. "What the bloody blazes are you doing up there?"

Spike looked down at the young corporal. He chuckled and shook his head. He hardly remembered what it felt like to be about Newkirk's age and mortal... So many limitations... He sat down at the top of the Hangman's bridge to contemplate the view by the river. "We're looking for a bloody island, aren't we?"

"You can't see the city from there, that roof is too low!"

"But it's a hell of a view, all the same," he whispered. Spike would never tell that deep inside, he still kept some traits of his previous life as a poet. Those were the things he did not like to brag about. They did not match his tough guy image. "There are no islands in the city. Shouldn't we go to the docks?" He stood up on the edge and jumped.

Newkirk closed his eyes and dodged. Spike landed on his feet, right next to him "Nice trick, do you fly too?" He was not impressed anymore. After a while, Spike could be rather annoying.

"No island around here."

Newkirk took a deep breath and prayed for patience. "Don't take it so literally. The diary talks about places in the city. Island is just a code for something else. Look around you. What d'you see?"

Spike shrugged. "Water, the channels-"

"The bridges, Spike. The entire city is a bloody island, you twit!"

"Hey, belts up! I ain't having a blinder here neither," yelled Spike. "If you say this is an island, it's an island. Now what, genius boy? Enlighten me."

Newkirk turned around. "We need to decide what island to follow." His brow wrinkled while he thought. "Let's see... Strasse is road... what's the German word for island?"

"Beat me, Island Strasse?" Spike shrugged. "I told you, I don't speak Kraut."

Newkirk was about to beat this vampire senseless when his eyes read a small sign at the top of a building. EILANDSTRASSE. "Blimey!"

"Blimey o'reilly!" Spike chuckled. "Now what, Sherlock?"

"We need an oak tree."

"A real tree or a let's-pretend-it's-a-tree tree? How do you say oak tree in German, anyway?"

"Eichenholz, but I sup-"

Spike made a sudden move to cover Newkirk's mouth and pull him into an alley.

"Hey!"

"Shh!" Spike turned to the street. "Night patrols. Curfew... there's a war, you know?"

Newkirk held his breath. He felt useless without his hearing. Time with Spike had made him forget about that. Newkirk was sure that he would not last long on his own. He looked on the vampire as his only connection with the world. Spike kept his eyes on the street as the predator waiting for his prey.

In the wink of an eye, his face changed radically. There was a growl before he jumped over two soldiers walking down the street. He bit the first one on the neck while the other tried to find his voice to scream. Seconds later, the first soldier fell as Spike held the other one's head backwards and drank from his neck too.

Newkirk did not move. In his head, he was still processing the out-of-this-world events he had been witnessing. In a matter of days, he had interacted with all kinds of non-human creatures who had done unspeakable things to his body... And yet, he could not believe that someone looking like a regular bloke could drink all that blood out of a man.

Spike walked towards him and Newkirk stepped back. "What is it?" he asked. His voice sounded deeper behind the fangs. Newkirk pointed at his brow and eyes and Spike laughed. "Oh, sorry." He changed immediately to his normal alluring self. "It's my game face," he shrugged. "Get used to it."

Newkirk smiled while his heart slowed down. "I'm sorry I called you a twit."

Spike was still laughing when his eyes locked on something. "Newkirk? How do you say oak tree in German?"

"Eichenholz, just like the bloke in the diary," he said turning in the same direction. A few buildings in front of them, there was an old house with a nice carved sign: Otto Eichenholz - Buchhandlung.

()o()o()

Corporals Hans and Fritz drove down the street looking for prospects. This had been their third time out and by the way things were going, it would not be their last.

"She's insatiable tonight." Hans shook his head. "I'd like to go to sleep before dawn."

"At least, we're not the main course. That cute monster has killed four guards in less than two days. Good thing that we had so many people in this town." Fritz kept looking around.

"Yeah, better them than us," Hans laughed. "Let's go down for a couple of blocks. Let's see if we're lucky and still find some lost souls out."

OOO

Hogan changed into civilian clothes, finished his tea and went out. The manor had beautiful gardens behind and in front of it. Any other time, he would have liked to go and sit there. But tonight, he was out only to look for Newkirk. The sole idea of his corporal running over the city with a vampire was disturbing. He had an uneasy feeling about the things that might happen to him.

The night was not too cold. Hogan chose a street and walked on. Everything was quiet; just as he liked it; it helped him think. There was not a soul in the street after curfew, only him.

Suddenly, Hogan heard steps behind him. He did not stop, or run. He kept walking until he reached a darkened area on the sidewalk. He blended with the shadows and waited. His heartbeat accelerated with expectation as he put his hand under his coat, looking for his gun. He did not want to use it, but he was ready all the same.

"Colonel Hogan?" The familiar voice was soft and shy, just to put Hogan at ease. "Please, don't shoot."

Hogan smiled and put his gun away. He came out and touched Schultz on the shoulder. "What are you doing here," he said as the sergeant started and turned.

"I'm supposed to keep an eye on you and Newkirk, remember? The Englander is not here, I can't lose you too."

"It's okay, Schultz. We're not escaping, I promise."

Schultz noticed Hogan's glance at his rifle and he laughed. "I wasn't planning to shoot you." He looked around at the empty streets. "Are you looking for Koshchei's soul too?"

"Isn't everybody these days?" Hogan resumed his walk. "You don't have to come with me. I'll just find Newkirk and we'll be at the manor tomorrow morning. Really."

"I believe you, but I don't think you can comply. This is a very dangerous task. You might get hurt or worse." Schultz walked next to him. "I can go with you and pretend that you're my prisoner if we meet some patrol on the way."

Not a bad idea, Hogan thought. At least, he would not get bored. Only a couple of steps later, something caught Hogan's attention. It was a small card, from an old deck. He picked it up and smiled.

"Eureka!"

"What's that? A ten of diamonds?" Schultz took it and shrugged.

"Not just a ten of diamonds, Schultz. It's Newkirk's. He must have come this way." He looked around for more cards.

"There's another one over there." Schultz pointed several meters in front of them.

Hogan was about to pick up another card when he heard someone running after them. Schultz turned in that direction.

"Could it be Newkirk?" he asked.

Hogan squinted, shaking his head. The man running towards them was shorter. He wore a white raincoat, visible miles away. "Mr. Jones."

"Herr Schmidt?" Schultz said. He grinned at Hogan's stare of surprise. "Come on, Colonel Hogan. You know I never forget a face, if I don't want to. That's the same man you called Olsen back in camp. I know he's not even German."

Hogan chuckled and waited for Mr. Jones to get closer and regain his breath. The inspector breathed deeply several times, then, he pointed at Schultz with his head.

"Does he know?"

"No," Hogan and Schultz answered at the same time.

"And I don't want to know," the sergeant nodded.

"What are you doing here, Mr. Jones?" Hogan asked.

"You didn't think you would bring me all the way here to stay in that manor reading first editions, do you?"

"Of course not," Hogan shrugged. "All right, you may come, but please, don't ask questions." He turned and kept walking. Several footsteps later, he picked up another card.

"What's that?" Mr. Jones asked.

"Questions, Mr. Jones." Hogan dismissed him with a wave of his hand. "The trail is leading to that castle over the hill."

Schultz picked up another card. "There's another trail of cards following down that street."

Hogan studied the situation. "Newkirk was here. He probably went to the castle first and then, that other way..." He frowned.

Before he could get to any conclusion, a black car turned the corner. Hogan pushed Schultz and Mr. Jones into an alley. Two men in Gestapo uniforms came out.

"Hey, you, come out here, now!" Corporal Fritz's voice was harsh and mean. Hans did not talk much. He preferred the quiet approach.

"They didn't see you," Hogan whispered. "Schultz, you must follow the trail down the street. Find Newkirk."

"But, Colonel..."

"Shh! Just do as I say." Hogan walked into the open. He would not offer resistance. Staying alive was the priority. There would always be a way to escape.

Schultz stayed in the shadows for a while after the two men took Hogan. They did not use pistols or brute force, they used a handkerchief and chloroform. "Das ist nicht gut," This is not good, he said. He turned to see Mr. Jones struggling to write down some notes in the dim light. Schultz shook his head, "gar nicht gut..." not good at all.

()o()o()

Spike leaned on the door and yawned. Newkirk had been testing the lock of the bookstore for almost ten minutes. "Are you going to open it anytime this century? I don't think the war will last that long."

"For someone who has all the time in the world you are terribly impatient." Newkirk took his lock picks. He still hesitated a little more. The pain in his burned fingertips increased.

"What? Is this a new technique on picking locks? You wait till it opens by itself? Do you want me to kick it open?"

"You're not helping, Spike... A broken door might get unwanted attention, don't you think?" Newkirk inserted the pick in the lock but as soon as he twisted it, the piece broke. "Bloody hell!" He stepped back and kicked the wall. Pain consumed most of his frustration, but he had to bite his lip to suppress a scream.

"Just brill! Now you can't walk either," said Spike rolling his eyes.

Newkirk sat on the ground and pouted. "I used to be good at this... I used to be good at so many things," he sighed. "This is ridiculous. I'll call the witch, tell her she won." He had not thought of getting up when a superhuman strength pulled him up. He felt his feet lifting off the ground.

Spike held Newkirk by his neck. "Listen, now, Peter Newkirk. I've got all the time in the world and the only thing I like in this rubbish life is my Drusilla. If she dies, nothing else matters. You die, your precious Colonel Hogan dies... your friends at the Stalag and all this entire bloody world could go to those wankers for all I care. You brought me this far to find that bloody egg and that's what we're going to do." He changed into his game face. "Do I make myself clear?"

"Absolutely, mate. Whatever you say." Newkirk spoke between gasps. "C-can you put me down? I think I'll try again now."

Newkirk got another lock pick and began to work on the door. The pain did not matter much all of a sudden. Although it took him a little longer than usual, the lock finally gave in. He could at last breathe.

"Pain as a motivator," Spike sneered. "Never fails."

"Those long fangs of yours helped too." Newkirk opened the door.

They entered the place slowly. It was dark but the lights of the street illuminated parts of it. Books were scattered on the floor as though a twister had passed through. The shelves were half empty and the few books remaining had been torn apart.

"And you were concerned about a broken door." Spike looked around. "D'you see any box or egg? I think we're barking up the wrong tree, so to speak."

Newkirk closed his eyes and counted till ten. Riding with vampires was more annoying than he had thought. If he could, he would lose Spike at the turn of a corner. He opened his eyes again to see the barrel of a rifle inches away from his nose. The man behind it was talking to him. The few words he could catch from his lip reading, advised him to stay as still as possible.

"Easy, gramps, we're not what you think," said Spike.

"A Luftwaffe officer and a British corporal. You're trespassing on my property, looking for something. Maybe a box."

Newkirk turned to Spike and both shrugged. "All right, that's what we look like, but with good reason." Newkirk kept his hands up. "How did you know what we're looking for?"

"Are you blind? Someone came earlier and turned everything upside down."

"And that box, is kind of important for you?"

"Not as much as you. Breaking in like thieves..." the old man cocked his rifle. "First, the Nazis, then that giant in white, now you two... Everybody looking for a box all of a sudden. Well, I don't have it." He kept his weapon ready. "It hasn't been here in years... the previous owner got it in the flea market but after he died,-"

"White giant you said?" Newkirk just prayed he was misreading the words.

"Wait, what's that noise?" Spike turned to the aisle.

"Don't move!" The old man said.

"What noise? I can't hear, rememb-?" Newkirk realized that there was a clicking sound. "How come I hear that? Did I get me hearing back?"

"No, you haven't." Spike stared at the shelves. "Did you mention a white giant, Herr Eichenholz?"

"He came early this morning smashing everything around... I shot him..." he shook his head. "But I'm not Eichenholz-"

"There it is again." Newkirk turned. "But, how come I hear it? I can only hear you because you're not alive."

"Neither is he." Spike stepped back when a huge man, all dressed in a white Cossack uniform, moved towards him. "White Dawn, it's past your bedtime, innit?"

One gloved hand grabbed Spike by the neck. Next thing the vampire was flying across the store and through the window. The white Cossack came running from behind to grab Newkirk by one arm. The Englishman crawled away but White Dawn pulled him by his ankle. Newkirk fell face down on the floor. He looked for anything to anchor himself to but he found nothing. He was hopelessly dragged towards that white creature waiting behind him. Newkirk was sure of one thing only... this was going to hurt.

tbc

Happy reading! See you later... or maybe sooner ;)