Her Vampyrrhic Heart by Simon Clark Page A

Brilliant lights exploded inside his head. He couldn’t breathe. His attacker was hell-bent on drowning him.
    Though he struggled, he couldn’t lift his face clear. Bubbles spurted from his lips. Cold water jetted up his nose. Then the lights inside his head grew dim. They became clots of purple. Then the purple became darker … blacker … he stopped moving. Terrifying thoughts flowed through his head:
I can’t breathe. I’m going to die.
Everything after that: darkness. Just darkness.

FIFTEEN
    A t nine o’clock Owen Westonby and Jez Pollock dropped by Kit’s house to find out if he’d uncovered the pod’s secret. Kit lived here with his mother at the end of a dirt track on the edge of the village. Owen always felt a twinge of sadness when he visited Kit. The house, which had once been part of a farm, had seen better days. Its wooden window frames had rotted. The garage roof had collapsed. Owen knew that Kit made running repairs, but Mrs Bolter often complained of the noise if he used a hammer or power drill, and she made him stop work.
    Kit’s mother was antisocial, and that was putting it mildly. When she’d too much booze inside of her she’d subject visitors to vicious rants about whatever happened to be preoccupying her at the time. Normally, Kit’s friends avoided the Bolter house. However, Kit had sent Owen a text:
Pod progress:-) Call in. Mother asleep.
    Jez spoke in a low voice as they picked their way through the gloom. ‘I bet Kit’s counting the days until he goes to university, then he’ll be able to get away from this dump.’
    â€˜I don’t suppose Mrs Bolter likes living in squalor, either.’
    â€˜You always see the best in people, don’t you?’ Jez had to lift the broken garden gate in order to open it. ‘Mrs Bolter likes living inside a whisky bottle. Get my meaning? She chose to wind up like this.’
    Owen opened his mouth to disagree; however, he saw Kit at the door, so he kept silent. He didn’t want Kit to know that they’d been discussing his mother.
    Instead, Owen hooted, ‘The mad scientist. Found out what Mr Pod is yet?’
    â€˜Shush. My mother’s in bed.’
    â€˜Are you sure you want us here?’
    Kit stood back to let them in. ‘Usually a bomb wouldn’t wake her, but best not make too much noise. I’ll only get an earful if she knows you’ve been round.’
    Both Owen and Jez pretended to zip their mouths shut. Kit smiled, though Owen noticed his manner seemed odd, as if his friend had something on his mind.
    â€˜Go through to the back room.’ Owen pointed to a door along the passageway.
    Soon they found themselves in a parlour that had been crowded with mismatched furniture. Again, Owen felt that keen twinge of sadness. The hand-me-down sofa, chairs and table signalled that not everyone led a problem-free life. He didn’t believe for one moment that Mrs Bolter was a bad person – even at sixteen he realized that given enough personal setbacks and broken dreams anyone could find themselves down on their luck like this.
    Kit indicated the sofa. ‘Grab a seat.’
    Owen and Jez sat down.
    â€˜So, what you got for us, Kit?’ Jez nodded at the metal pod that sat on the floor beneath the TV.
    â€˜It’s a camera,’ Kit announced.
    â€˜Is that all?’ Owen felt disappointed.
    â€˜Not just any camera.’ Kit knelt down beside the pod. ‘I’ve dismantled it and found a movement sensor; you know the sort, you get them in security lights. They trigger the light when something moves in front of them.’
    â€˜So, a security camera?’
    â€˜Nope. A wildlife camera. That’s why you found this baby out in the forest. The pod got smashed up, the housing’s vanished completely, but this was designed to film whatever triggered the sensor.’
    â€˜I really expected it to be a missile that’d