Tenacious Link

Terry S. Bowers

September 26, 2000

Awareness of his surroundings returned slowly, as the sun slipped lower on the horizon then disappeared altogether for a short span of hours. With the darkness came a growing dread, and the re-affirmation he was not hallucinating, was not entangled in a bizarre, insanity induced fantasy. He was still confined in a borrowed coffin, chained securely against any hope of escape, and well hidden in a cellar room where few would ever think to look, if they even knew about him. Parallel time had proven to be more dangerous to him than any threat he'd faced in his true time band, and Barnabas Collins began to despair of ever being able to return to the time stream in which he belonged, the time stream where he had friends and people who would care for and protect him, where Julia was waiting for him...

Loomis was late this evening. He was usually standing over the coffin, taunting him, teasing him and ultimately releasing him from the confines of the coffin to the less limited restrictions of the room from which he could not escape. If he were in a good mood, or pleased with what he had written that day, Loomis would allow Barnabas to feed. He would bring with him a rat or a small rodent, something that would sate Barnabas' need for blood enough so he could get on with what Loomis demanded he do - tell the writer his life story so Loomis could exploit Barnabas for his own gain; so he could tell Barnabas Collins' life - and non-death - in book form. Will was certain it would be an even bigger best seller than his first book, The Life and Death of Barnabas Collins had been. How Loomis proposed to dispute the facts as he'd written them in that biography Barnabas did not know, nor did he care. He was cooperating because he had no choice. If he opposed Loomis in any way, Barnabas knew the man would destroy him. Barnabas did not wish to end his existence that way, or in parallel time. What he did wish... really made no difference just then.

Knowing it to be a futile gesture, but needing to try anyway, Barnabas pushed up on the lid of his coffin. It did not move, and his hands were uncomfortably close to the cross Loomis had fixed inside the lid for added protection. Barnabas lowered his hands and closed his eyes. Not for the first time he told himself he should have listened to Julia, should have let her find some way to help him, but his fear of harming her, of savagely attacking her and taking her blood had caused him to act rashly, impulsively.

Julia... The minute taste of her blood had almost been more than he could stand. She had been willing to give him as much as he needed, and he would have taken all she had. Barnabas stopped himself before he'd begun, knowing the end result would be her death and, unwilling to accept the responsibility for having harmed her, for having killed her, Barnabas panicked and fled.

Barnabas, come home. The thought brushed across his mind like a tender caress from a gentle, loving hand. Barnabas' eyes shot open and he looked around the dark confines of his coffin. He knew Julia was not there with him and yet... he was sure he had heard her voice, whispering to him, imploring him to come home. Julia... Could it be...

Grateful to have something else on which to concentrate, Barnabas focused his mind on Julia's words. He could feel her in his mind, distant, almost out of reach, but still discernable. He had known his vampire mind created a telepathic link with Julia when he tasted her blood, just as it did with all his victims, but he'd not realized - even hoped - the link had survived his transition to parallel time. But it had! There was no other explanation. He could feel and hear Julia in his mind through his link with her. A wave of relief washed over Barnabas. He was not alone in parallel time. Julia was with him.

Knowing the link was not very strong because he had not enforced it through use, had tasted only a drop of her blood, Barnabas tested its potential. He focused his mind on the connection he had with Julia and tried to influence her with the full strength of his vampire abilities. He waited for a response, but none came. Barnabas hoped the connection was not fading or that it only worked one way. No, he had to believe it worked both ways; he just had to discover the limitations. He'd never before experienced a link so tenuous, yet so tenacious. It was a link he wanted to strengthen and develop. Barnabas knew he had time, knew when a victim's mental defenses were at their lowest, as if waiting for a message to be sent from vampire to victim. No, Julia was not his victim, she never would be his victim, but the link was there and he would not ignore it.

Hearing Loomis' footfalls growing nearer, Barnabas knew he would have to explore the link's potential later. For now he would try to send Julia a simple message. Again Barnabas focused his mind, made the link as strong as he could, and said to Julia, I miss you, Julia. I will try to come home.

Hoping the thought somehow reached Julia, Barnabas turned his attention to the sounds of Will Loomis releasing the chains on his coffin. Now Barnabas believed he could endure most anything, knowing he still had a link to Julia, knowing he was connected to her in a way that was more intimate and private than anything he'd ever before thought possible.

I miss you, Julia. The thought brushed across her mind like a gentle, tender caress from a lover's hand. Julia paused and caught her breath, raising her hand to rest at the base of her throat. She knew the thought had come from Barnabas, knew the thought had been conveyed to her through the vampire link their minds shared. Barnabas was not completely cut off from her, he was not totally alone in parallel time; she was not irrevocably separated from him by the barriers of parallel time as she had feared. Relief washed over Julia Hoffman and she slowly smiled. Barnabas knew and recognized their unique link, and he missed her. Somehow, they would find a way to bring him home.