Excerpt: Dick Turpin and the vampire footpads

“Just one thing sir, if you don’t mind me asking… when were ya thinking on turning me?”
Dick stood routed. He was at a loss for a moment and then inspiration cut in, “let’s see how the next job goes,” he said
Ned said “Tha soon. Aw thank ya Dick, you won’t regret it, but we will have to find another lackey. Those coffins are heavy, so he’ll have to be someone strong.” He added.
Dick was desperate to leave. With every sentence he was digging hisself a bigger hole.
“We’ll sort that out when the time comes,” he said after a moments’ thought and without another word strode out into the muted light of the woods. He made a show of pulling the hood up on his cloak and tried to look as though he feared the sunlight as he rushed away toward the open fields.
Dick had to admit that at the moment he really thought a horse might be advantageous. He looked carefully around to see if Ned had followed him, but there was no sight of him, so Dick dashed out of the woods and across the sunlit field that led to Crooked Beech Farm. He had decided to go there first and if he couldn’t persuade the old farmer to loan him a horse, then he was fully prepared to pay for one, although he didn’t like the idea much.
As he neared the hedge that separated the field from the farm proper, he noticed four horses tethered to the gate. They were a strange sight as they were as different from each other as they could possibly be. One was large, black and looked like a warhorse, the next was almost as big and skeletal, just skin and bones. The third’s coat was patchy all over and looked to have sores dotted about its back. The last one was an albino, but smaller than the others and more to Dick’s liking. All four animals stood perfectly still. They appeared not to notice him approaching. Dick couldn’t believe his luck. Why pay for a horse when he could easily steal one. All thoughts of approaching the farmer disappeared at this new stroke of good luck. The only thing that worried Dick was which one should he steal? He discounted the skeletal one and also the one with sores. He figured neither would last out the week and then he’d have to steal another one. Besides he wanted his newfound gang to be impressed. If he was going to pretend to be the real Dick Turpin then he felt he should have an impressive horse. The obvious choice was the big black warhorse, but Dick didn’t fancy trying to steal such an imposing animal. He was a coward at heart and figured the smaller of the two would be an easier target. He hadn’t counted on the fact that the creature had the most disconcerting blood red eyes and that once Dick was upon its back, it could turn it’s head completely round and glare at him. His first thought on encountering those glowing orbs was “I’m going to fall off at any minute.” He didn’t count on the voice in his head either, that said
“If you fall off, you will die,” the horse was still staring at him. Then the voice said, “If you jump off, you will die, if you kick my side or whack my rump, you will die”
Dick was beginning to get the picture.
Finally the voice in his head said, “So - you had better hang on for dear life and think about where you want to go. I will do the rest.”
Dick thought about the Crooked Billet. There was a blast of cold wind in his face and the earth moved. When Dick opened his eyes, he was seated on the floor in front of the door to the taproom. The pale horse with the ruby eyes was on its way round to the stables to house itself until Dick required it again. Dick struggled to his feet, vowing that he wouldn’t call upon the animal again. He looked around to see if anyone had noticed the ignoble way he had dismounted, but he couldn’t see anyone around, so he dusted himself off and headed inside, promising himself a good jug of ale to calm his nerves.