Free Vampire Dreams (Bloodscreams #1) by Robert W Walker Page B

been found, Stroud, and--”
    “Found, really? Alive, you mean?”
    “In one piece and alive, yeah! We got damned lucky, damned lucky. Course men like you and me, we always think the worst ... but you can never tell, now, can you? Hard work pays off.”
    “What about the other boy?”
    “Other boy? Oh, Ronnie Cooper?”
    “Yes, did Timmy Meyers offer up any information about the other missing--”
    “I really don't think the two cases are, you know, related. Anyway, Timmy's not talking. He's kinda in what you'd call ... shock.”
    “Shock?”
    “'Fraid so.”
    “Where is he now?”
    “Banaker has him under observation.”
    “I see.”
    “Best facilities in all the county.”
    “Yes, of course.”
    “That's right.”
    “Unharmed?”
    “Narry a scratch on him. Physically, he's none the worse for wear. Emotionally, well ... boy spent a rough night.”
    “Where'd they find him?”
    “Up near Twin Bluffs. Hell, nobody was even lookin' up that way when--”
    “Who found him?”
    “Some of Banaker's people, on their way toward the Institute, found him wandering around, lost and cryin'.”
    “I see.”
    “Well, all's well that ends well, Doctor Stroud.”
    “But what about the other boy?”
    “Lost cause, that one. Been too long in them woods. If anyone ever does stumble onto the body ... won't be recognizable.”
    “Well ... I guess we can all breathe easier.”
    “You bet we can.”
    “What about the bones, Sheriff?”
    “What about 'em? Banaker's explained that to you, hasn't he?”
    “Ahhh, the graveyard theory.”
    “Not no theory.”
    “Oh, right, city records ... all that.”
    “Right. Well, rest easy.”
    I was, until you woke me,  he wanted to say but instead replied, “Did your people get the package out to Chicago, the UPS package?”
    “Hey, not to worry.”
    “Thanks.”
    “Thank you, Doctor Stroud, for showing such civic duty.”
    “No more'n anyone else would do.”
    He laughed lightly. “Your old grandfather would've sat up there in that house and done nothing, not a damned thing.”
    He hung up before Stroud could protest what seemed to him to be a slur against his kinsman. The man he had known would not have idly sat by while the entire town was on a night search for a missing boy. Unless the old man changed near the end. Unless his personality had altered.
    The thought shook Abe Stroud along with the memory of finding the secret chamber below the manse.
    It seemed, for the moment, that all the trouble that had rocked Andover and its people was contained now, wrapped up neat and tidy by Briggs and Banaker, as tight and proper as the package Stroud had sent off to Chicago for examination. So why was it so difficult to put it from his mind?
    Something like a nagging whisper in his ear, so strong he felt as if someone were standing over his bed breathing into his ear, except that the exhalations were chilling instead of warming. Something suggested itself to him and made him sit up in bed. He wanted to see and talk to Timmy Meyers.
    Fifteen frustrating minutes later he learned by phone that no one was permitted near the boy, not even his parents, as yet. It seemed the boy's condition was far worse than Briggs had allowed. It seemed total isolation was necessary, according to Banaker, if the child was to regain his former strength and identity. According to reports circulating about the Institute, the boy had gone into a kind of walking coma, unable to speak or feed himself. Such a condition was typically brought on when the mind shut down in the face of unacceptable horror and fear.
    Abe Stroud felt he understood the child's plight. He placed himself in the boy's position and he experienced the old wounds that had once threatened to lock him away deep within himself to emotionally bleed to death deep inside a silent frame.
    Stroud got up suddenly, tossing the covers aside, but when he stood, he found himself in a cold, chilling, and damp circle. He involuntarily shivered and looked