Necroscope II Wamphyri(Vampyri) - By Brian Lumley Page 0,168

to get the hell out of there - if and while he can! So that's the four of us tied up for the night.' He looked round the table.

'The rest of you can concentrate on the proper running of this place before it comes apart at the seams. Every man Jack is on duty full time as of now. Right, are there any questions?'

'Are we the only ones in on this?' John Grieve asked. 'I mean, are the public, the authorities, still entirely in the dark?'

'Totally. What do we tell them - that we're chasing a vampire through the countryside from Devon to British West Hartlepool? Listen, even the people who fund us and know we exist don't wholly believe in us! How do you think they'd react to the facts about Yulian Bodescu? And as for Harry Keogh... of course the public is in the dark about it.'

'With a single exception, anyway,' said Layard. 'We've had the police alerted to the fact that there's a mad killer on the loose - Bodescu's description, of course. We've told them he's heading north, possible destination the Hartlepool area. They've been warned that if he's spotted they're not to apprehend him but get in touch with us first, then the Special Branch lads who are up there on the job. As and when Bodescu gets closer to his target, then we'll be more specific. That's as much as we dare do for now.'

Roberts looked from face to face. 'Any more questions?' he asked. There were none

3.30 A.M. at Brenda Keogh's tiny but immaculate garret flat overlooking the main road through the town and, across the road, an old, old cemetery. Harry Jnr lay in his cot sleeping and dreaming baby dreams, and his father's mind slept with him, exhausted from a struggle he now knew he had no hope of winning. The child had him, it was as simple as that. Harry was the baby's sixth sense.

In the wee small hours of the misty morning, with dawn still half a night away, a thicker mist was forming in slumbering minds, bringing horror as it swirled and eddied in subconscious caverns of dream. And out of nowhere, telepathic fingers were reaching, probing, discovering!

Ahhh! came that gurgling, clotted mental voice in the two Harrys' minds. Is that you, Haarrryyy? Yesss, I see it is! Well, i'm coming for you, Haarrryyy - I'm coming.

for... you! -

The baby's scream of terror ripped his mother from her bed as if it were the hand of some cruel giant. She stumbled to his tiny room, shook herself awake as she entered and went to him. And how he cried, cried, cried when she took him in her arms, cried like she'd never heard before. But he wasn't wet, and no nappy pins were sticking in him. Was he hungry? No, it wasn't that either.

She rocked him in her arms, but still he sobbed, and his little eyes wide and wild and full of fear. A dream, maybe? 'But you're too tiny, Harry,' she told him, kissing his hot little head. 'Far too tiny and sweet and so very, very young to be dreaming naughty dreams! That's all it was, baby, a naughty dream.'

She carried him back to her own bed, thinking: Yes, and 1 must have been dreaming, too! She must have been, for the baby's scream when it woke her hadn't sounded like the scream of a child at all but that of a terrified man.

It was 3.30 in London, where Guy Roberts and Ken Layard, assisted by the telepaths Trevor Jordan and Mike Carson, had spent the last ninety minutes trying to 'get through' to Carl Quint - without any success that they could measure.

They were working in Layard's private locations room, an office or study set by solely for his use. Wall racks carried maps and charts of the entire world, without which Layard's work for INTESP would be almost impossible. The map which had been spread on his desk for the last two hours was a blown-up aerial recce photograph of the Russo-Moldavian border, with Chernovtsy circled in red felt-tip.

The air was blue and acrid from Roberts's endless chain-smoking, and steam whistled from an electric kettle in one corner where Carson was making yet another cup of instant coffee. 'I'm knackered,' Roberts admitted, stubbing out his half-smoked cigarette and lighting another. 'We'll take a break, find somewhere quiet and try to snatch forty winks. Start up again in an hour's time.' He stood up,