Her Vampyrrhic Heart by Simon Clark

Bolter’s fatal accident. The floodwaters have long since vanished, yet the mystery that originated on the night of the flood endures.
    The green bus arrived. Kit slipped the book into his rucksack and stood up as the door opened. Owen Westonby stepped out. As soon as Kit saw the expression on his friend’s face he knew something was wrong.
    A second person alighted from the bus, too. For a moment, Kit didn’t realize the significance of the stranger. It was only when the girl remained standing there instead of walking away that Kit realized that Owen hadn’t come alone.
    â€˜Kit. This is Eden Taylor.’ Owen wore an expression that combined blushing shyness with absolute delight. ‘Eden, this is Kit Bolter.’
    The beautiful, fair-haired stranger gave him a warm smile that must have melted many a heart. ‘Hello, Kit. Owen said it was alright if I tagged along, too. You don’t mind, do you?’
    Recovering from his surprise Kit smiled, then told his first lie of the day. ‘No, I don’t mind you coming along.’
    â€˜Thank you, Kit, nice to meet you.’ Eden’s voice radiated ‘posh’; she politely held out her hand for Kit to shake. ‘I’m rather looking forward to this. I must say I’ve never explored this part of the valley before.’ Her smile was perfectly complemented by twinkling blue eyes. ‘After you, Kit.’
    Kit led the way. Neither Eden nor Owen could see his expression of sheer, thunderous anger. Fortunately, they couldn’t read his mind, either, as these thoughts stormed through his head:
What’s Owen playing at? Why did he bring that girl with him? A stranger, for God’s sake! She’ll ruin everything!

TWENTY-FIVE
    E
den is paradise.
Owen Westonby smiled as the words entered his head.
Eden is paradise.
Not just the Biblical garden but the girl … because here she is: a beautiful girl called Eden.
Today was the kind of day when he wanted to start a diary. Mainly to write all kinds of things about Eden Taylor. As he walked beside her, with Kit marching away in front of them across the field, Owen found himself writing the diary entry inside his head.
Saturday, 18 November: the strangest and most amazing thing happened today. As I waited for the bus a girl walked up and started to talk. She’d been with the group of girls yesterday when Shaun played the prank with the chalk outline of a body and the police crime scene tape. Today, she just came right out with: ‘Hello, I saw you yesterday, didn’t I? When that idiot jumped out of that big salt tub thing? I’m Eden Taylor. I’ve seen you around the village.’
    They’d quickly hit it off. She told him she was sixteen, went to a school near Whitby, had a black and white mongrel called Prince and hated the boring winters in Danby-Mask. Her mother owned an exclusive hotel in London, and had begun renovating a newly acquired one in Scarborough. ‘That’s why we’re living here,’ she’d said as she regarded Danby-Mask with those vast, blue eyes. ‘Don’t get me wrong. It’s such a pretty village. But what does one actually do to avoid dying of boredom?’
    Without really intending to tell her what he’d planned for that afternoon it had spilled from his lips anyway.
    â€˜A monster hunt? Gosh! That sounds exciting.’
    For a moment he thought she was being sarcastic, but she genuinely appeared thrilled. Of course, he immediately invited her along.
And why the hell
not?
he thought.
Nearly every other guy who’s sixteen has a girlfriend – so why not
me?
When she’d stood chatting happily at the bus stop his heart had begun to beat louder and louder until it seemed he’d got a machine gun blazing away inside his ribcage. He thought she’d put her hands over her ears and cry out ‘What on earth is that noise? It’s deafening.’
    Of course, only he could hear his own