"You know how you can feel that someone's looking at you?" mumbled Maladict. "Well, it's like that, times a thousand. And it's not a... a feeling, it's something I know."
"Lots of people are looking for us, corporal," said Blouse, patting him kindly on the shoulder. "It doesn't mean that they'll find us."
Polly, looking down on the gold-lit woodland, opened her mouth to speak. It was dry. Nothing came out.
Maladict shook the lieutenant's hand away. "This... person isn't looking for us! They know where we are!"
Polly forced saliva into her mouth, and tried again. "Movement!"
And then it wasn't there any more. She'd have sworn there had been something on the path, something that merged with the light, revealing itself only by the changing, wavering pattern of shadows as it moved.
"Er... perhaps not," she muttered.
"Look, we've all lost sleep and we're all a little 'strung out'," said Blouse. "Let's just keep things down, shall we?"
"I need coffee!" moaned Maladict, rocking back and forth.
Polly squinted at the distant pathway. The breeze was shaking the trees, and red-gold leaves were drifting down. For a moment there was just a suggestion... She got to her feet. Stare at shadows and waving branches for long enough and you could see anything. It was like looking at pictures in the flames.
"O-kay," said Shufti, who'd been working over the fire. "This might do it. It smells like coffee, anyway. Well... quite like coffee. Well... quite like coffee if coffee was made from acorns, anyway."
She'd roasted some acorns. At least the woods had plenty of them at this time of year, and everybody knew that roasted, ground acorns could be substituted for coffee, didn't they? Polly had agreed that it was a worth a try, but as far as she could recall no one had ever, given the choice, said "No, I will not touch horrible coffee any more! It's a Long Black ground-acorn substitute for me, with extra floating gritty bits!"
She took the mug from Shufti and carried it over to the vampire. As she bent down... the world changed.
...whopwhopwhop...
The sky was a haze of dust, turning the sun into a blood-red disc. For a moment Polly saw them in the sky, giant fat screws spinning in the air, hovering in the air but drifting slowly towards her -
"He's having flashsides," whispered Igorina, at her elbow.
"Flashsides?"
"Like... someone else's flashbackth. We don't know anything about them. They could come from anywhere. A vampire at this stage is open to all sorts of influences! Give him the coffee, please!"
Maladict grabbed the mug and tried to down the contents so quickly that they spilled over his chin. They watched him swallow.
"Tastes like mud," he said, putting down the mug.
"Yes, but is it working?"
Maladict looked up and blinked his eyes. "Ye gods, that stuff is gruesome."
"Are we in a forest or a jungle? Any flying screws?" Igorina demanded. "How many fingers am I holding up?"
"You know, that's something an Igor should never say," said Maladict, grimacing. "But... the... feelings aren't so strong. I can suck it down! I can gut it out."
Polly looked at Igorina, who shrugged and said, "That's nice," and motioned to Polly to join her a little way off.
"He, or possibly she, is right on the edge," she said.
"Well, we all are," said Polly. "We're hardly getting any sleep."
"You know what I mean. I've, er... taken the liberty of, er... being prepared." Wordlessly, Igorina let her jacket fall open, just for a moment. Polly saw a knife, a wooden stake and a hammer, in neatly stitched little pockets.
"It's not going to come to that, is it?"
"I hope not," said Igorina. "But if it does, I'm the only one who can reliably find the heart. People always think it's more to the left than - "