The Last Family Road Trip

by Matthew S. Cox

  Crap. I force myself not to scowl, and look away from my family at Cody, Ben, and a pair of adults I assume to be their parents, crossing the grass toward us. The woman looks a little younger than Mom, with jet black hair and enough cheap jewelry to stock a Renaissance Faire booth. Denim jacket, tie-dye skirt, sandals, and giant moon earrings only add to the effect.

  The dad’s wearing an Army jacket, green camo pants, and a camo ball cap with a Remington Arms logo on it. He’s fit in a ‘suburban dad that goes to the gym sometimes’ way, though I’m sure he sees himself as the last human left alive after the nukes come down. Dude’s carrying three knives, a canteen, and a whole bunch of other little things on his belt I don’t recognize. That certainly explains where Cody gets the whole ‘soldier’ vibe from.

  The family approaches our campsite. Most of the jewelry on the boys’ mother looks like new-agey Wicca stuff: pentacles, moon symbols, other rune-like things I have no clue about, and beads. So many beads. I’m momentarily glad the sun’s on me, otherwise her aura of essential oils and incense would shred my nose.

  “’Sup,” I say, begrudgingly standing out of politeness.

  The woman gives me an odd stare. Neither suspicious nor terribly warm. It’s hard putting a meaning to her expression without reading her mind, but I’d say she looks like she walked into a room and can’t remember why.

  “Made friends already?” asks Dad, smiling. He stands and offers a hand toward the boys’ father.

  “Went for a walk the other night. Ran into Cody and Ben.”

  The parents introduce themselves as James and Melanie Peters. Mom and Dad shake hands. Mrs. Peters takes one look at Sophia in her pink dress with silver lettering ‘SMOL’ on the chest (the O is a kitten face) and melts. I’m sure if Soph was six instead of ten the woman would’ve started making baby noises at her.

  Sierra shoots me a ‘boys, really?’ side stare.

  Trying to be subtle, I wave at her from my hip like I’m refusing an offer of Brussels sprouts.

  “So,” says Cody, approaching me. “We haven’t had any luck finding the vampire.”

  Ben holds up a crude stake they evidently made themselves from an almost-inch-thick branch.

  Sophia sputters into choking. A piece of tofu hits Sam on the chest and falls to the table.

  “You two seriously believe in vampires at your age?” scoffs Sierra. “You’re like old.”

  Cody shows no sign of embarrassment at an eleven-year-old calling him childish. Ben blushes a little.

  “Stakes don’t work on vampires,” says Sam in a matter-of-fact tone. “It’s a trick so they can kill you.”

  Sierra picks up the piece of tofu and throws it at him, bouncing it off his head while trying to laser-burn ‘dude, shut up!’ into his shirt with her eyes.

  “Vamp—” Sophia coughs and pats herself on the chest. “Vampires are only in games and movies.”

  “They’re real,” says Cody with an ‘I’m gonna find and kill it’ gleam in his eye.

  “The ring’s dormant,” mutters Ben, examining his hand. The fat ring isn’t glowing anymore.

  Hmm. Does that mean I don’t ‘count’ as a vampire when I’m offline? And ugh. ‘count?’ Really? I’m spending too much time around Dad. The bad puns are happening all the time now and I’m seriously not trying to do it. There’s also my not knowing what the range is on that thing, since it kept glowing when they walked away. And I got a weird feeling at night. What the hell was up with those creepy ass frogs? Maybe it’s picking up some other nocturnal creature that’s quite a bit nastier than me?

  The parents’ conversation takes an abrupt ‘needle-scraping-off-a-record’ stop when Mrs. Peters waves her arm past her face and says, “I feel a strange energy here.”

  Mr. Peters doesn’t react to the ‘spooky-time’ outburst, though it’s unclear if he believes her or thinks she’s weird. Any rational person looking at her outfit and mannerisms would probably assume she’s overindulged in weed.

  “What is it, Mom?” asks Ben, wide-eyed.

  My sisters both look at me like they’re afraid of getting in trouble.

  “Something dangerous and unseen lurks nearby,” says Mrs. Peters, gazing into space and waving her left arm sideways as if moving a curtain out of her way. “It is close… and quite powerful.”

  Sam swallows the last bite of his sandwich—and farts.

  Wow. Nine full seconds. Impressive.

  Sierra gags. Mom blushes. Dad’s face turns red from how hard he has to fight to not die laughing. Mr. Peters grins.

  “Aww, man.” Cody pulls his shirt up over his face. “Little dude is noxious.”

  “Wow,” gasps Sophia, staring at Mrs. Peters. “She is psychic.”

  9

  A Little Good, a Little Bad

  I didn’t think this vacation could get any more awkward than sharing a bedroom with my parents.

  Turns out, it can.

  Dropping an ass bomb that bad within fifteen minutes of meeting a new person causes most normal people to forever remember you as ‘that kid who farted,’ usually followed by going the hell away. Alas, Cody, Ben, and their father find my brother’s mastery of gastrointestinal warfare techniques hilarious. Somewhere between Sam inadvertently endearing himself to the Peters clan and the brothers insisting on talking to me like we’ve known each other for years, the dads get the bright idea to keep hanging out today… ‘since the kids are friends.’

  Neither of my parents mentions that I’m eighteen. I’m pretty sure the brothers and their parents believe me to be like fifteen. And it’s far too damn bright out for me to give them all the idea to forget we exist.

  So yeah. We’re hiking up to the caverns and I’m basically being forced to hang out with a pair of teenage boys who both think I’m cute—and who’ll probably try to kill me without a second thought if they ever figure me out. As to which one is more irritating, Ben’s crush or Cody’s weak Rambo impression, it’s a toss-up.

  Lucky for me I’m an Innocent. Going out in the day probably takes me off their suspect list for vampires. And wow, not a single joke about sparkling.

  From Dad I mean.

  Though, I could tell them my age, but that might get them thinking ‘wow, she looks way young for eighteen—gotta be a vampire!’ Sigh. It doesn’t help that the sun’s being a bitch today. I really want to pull my sweatshirt hood up and put on sunglasses, but it’s weird enough that I’m wearing a sweatshirt in almost-August. Then again, we are kinda high up elevation wise. Not that I’d call this place cold, but it isn’t exactly hot enough that everyone’s staring at me like the crazy girl for having so much skin covered.

  We pass a sign with a warning about heart problems or breathing difficulties. My heart’s faking it and I don’t need to breathe at all. Does that count as ‘difficulties?’ I smirk at the sign. Mom points out the 300-foot vertical climb warning as well as 600 steps inside the cave.

  Dad, of course, thinks he’ll be fine.

  We head up a paved path flanked on both sides by shrubs and stacked stones. The width of the trail is enough for two people to walk abreast, and Ben falls in step at my right with Cody behind us.

  While we walk, Mr. Peters tells my dad about his ‘prepper’ habit. The man sincerely thinks civilization is going to end within the next ten-to-fifteen years, so he’s been training to survive… and also teaching his boys how to survive. Dad asks what he thinks will cause the apocalypse, and suggests zombies. I know his tone, and he’s totally playing with the guy despite sounding serious to normal mortals. Mr. Peters takes the bait and starts discussing his opinions on why a literal zombie apocalypse might actually happen. Most of it sounds like he expects the CDC to make a zombie virus and lose control of it.

  E-freaking-gads. No wonder those boys are wound so tight.

  Of course, I am a vampire… so maybe I shouldn’t be so quick to dismiss something like zombies as BS. If someone tried to tell me vampires are real before Scott killed me, I would’ve thought them n
uts.

  Ben and Cody chat about their attempts so far to find ‘the fiend’ in the area. The littles are a few paces behind us, small enough to walk side by side on the path. The four parents follow a short distance behind them. Dad insisted on all the kids being in front. He said he wanted to make sure none of us pass out from the climb or get lost, but I think he really wants to take pictures. Guess I can’t blame him. I mean, I’ll need something to look at and cry over when I’m centuries old. Trying to imagine my siblings as elderly people is bizarre enough, but thinking about looking at photos of them as they are right now when they’re long dead is a whole new level of depressing.

  It’s almost tempting to ask Aurélie to show me how to make vampires so I can keep my family with me forever… but no. I can’t trap the sibs as children for eternity. Talk about selfish. And gawd—the arguments. The way they can bicker at each other sometimes? Having to put up with that forever? No thanks. And I’m fairly sure Sophia would hate me. If the way she takes care of her stuffed animals is any indication, she’s totally going to want kids someday.

  Depressing thoughts plus the repetition of walking over hilly scrubland makes the rest of the world around me blurry and indistinct for a while.

  “You okay?” asks Ben, pulling me back to reality.

  A well-timed giggle from Sophia helps cheer me up.

  “Yeah, fine,” I say.

  “Cool,” says Cody, sounding a little out of breath. “You look kinda bummed.”

  I shrug without taking my hands out of the sweatshirt pockets. “Just thinking about summer almost being over.”

  “Yeah, that sucks.” Ben tries to smile, but he’s too out of breath.

  “Ring glowed again last night.” Cody plods along, looking around like he expects a vampire to come out of nowhere at any moment.

  Chris, the tour guide, is mid-twenties with short sandy blond hair in a brush cut. Dad thinks he looks like Iceman from Top Gun, but I don’t see it. Sierra called him a ‘surfer dude lumberjack,’ which is a little more on point. Sophia’s on edge, but she’s been somewhat fearful of hipsters since Eleanor St. Ives’ two minions attacked us right outside dance class not long ago.

  I should’ve asked them if the ass-kicking was gluten free.

  “Wow,” says Cody. “You do like yoga or something?”

  “What?” I glance over at him, unable to help myself but squint at sun glare off the hill behind him.

  “You’re totally like not out of breath. Not even sweating.”

  Ben looks up at me, blinking as if he hadn’t noticed.

  “Nah, not yoga. Taekwondo,” I say… a little too fast.

  “She quit when she was thirteen.” Sam looks over at us with an expressionless face. “Only did it for a year.”

  Sophia’s so into dance class this hiking is easy for her, but her body language says she’s totally done with walking. Sierra’s handling the hike almost as well as I am. She doesn’t appear tired in the least, though she is sweating somewhat. And Sam? He looks like he just bounced out of bed and ate an entire box of sugar bomb cereal.

  All three of my siblings brushing off the exertion of the hike makes me not stand out so much compared to the Peters boys.

  “Well, I did a bunch of hiking with the Girl Scouts, too.”

  “She quit that at twelve,” adds Sam.

  Dad, wheezing, emerges from the bend behind us, staggers a few yards, and sits on a boulder. Mom walks into view a few seconds later. She’s not as destroyed as him, but the look she’s giving him suggests he will be making reparations for this trip idea at some point soon. She flops down to sit beside him. Mr. Peters arrives next, unfazed by the uphill walk. He’s not buff or anything, but I bet he could do this hike three more times.

  Mrs. Peters strolls around the curve last, giving me a strange glance as she goes by.

  I hope my expression doesn’t make it too obvious I’m miserable. It only feels like I’m standing with my face inches from a raging pizza oven. This place has no damn cover.

  “So, yeah, there’s definitely a fiend of the night here at the LC Caverns,” says Ben.

  “Okay.” I hold my hands up. “Let’s assume for a second that you’re not crazy and there are monsters. What exactly do you two plan to do to it? You’re fourteen.”

  “I’m fifteen; he’s fourteen,” says Cody. “And we’re prepared. We’ve hunted the fiends before.”

  “Oh?” I raise both eyebrows. “Please tell me you don’t have a crossbow that chucks stakes.”

  Ben snickers. “No. That sounds lame as hell.”

  “What kind of loser would use something like that?” asks Cody.

  I bite my lip. “Umm. Saw it in a movie once when I stayed up too late.”

  They laugh.

  The brothers keep quiet for the remainder of the two-mile hike, focusing too much on walking uphill to talk. It’s kinda cool not getting tired. Even though my vampire stuff isn’t operational when the sun’s on me, I don’t really turn ‘alive’ or anything.

  The cave entrance looks like a big crack in the side of a white stone hillside. It’s low enough that adults (and me) have to duck to get in. However, it’s like stepping out from the gates of Hell into central-air-conditioned paradise. Because my eyes have a habit of flaring red whenever I ‘come online,’ I fake a mild sneezing fit with both hands over my face.

  A few people glance at me, though it’s nothing more than reacting to an explosion of sneezes. It’s a little claustrophobic in here, but I’m too busy being thrilled at not having sun baking me alive to care.

  Chris the tour guide rambles on with a brief introductory spiel while giving us all a chance to catch our breath from the hike. After a few minutes, he leads us down a long, narrow stairwell cut into the rock with a black pipe railing on the left. Weird rock formations glow all around us, radiant in the glow from hidden electric lights. Some look like tall, thin cakes, others like spilled icing.

  Eventually, the left side opens out into this enormous hole. Chris spends a while talking about ‘the pit,’ a hundred-foot vertical drop, before we move down the rest of the stairwell. At the bottom, we squeeze through a narrow passageway and around a bend into an enormous cavern.

  We’re left to explore the massive chamber on our own for a little while. Chris mentions the chamber dead ends on the other side, with only one way out… and reminds everyone that camera flashes are prohibited. No idea why, but… He also points out a formation of rocks near the ground that he calls ‘cave popcorn.’ I guess it kinda looks like someone spilled a giant bucket of popcorn on the floor. It’s neat, and the place is pretty, but I’m not quite sure it’s thirteen-hours-on-the-road cool.

  “Okay, everyone,” says Chris after about ten minutes. “To illustrate how dark it really is down here, we’re going to cut the lights for a bit. Again, please remember that the use of camera flashes is prohibited.”

  “Why would anyone take a picture of dark?” asks a random man.

  Ooh. Opportunity knocks. I lock eyes with Chris and give him a mental prod not to turn the lights back on until I un-prod him. A moment later, all the color leaves the world. People gasp in surprise. One guy mutters, “Whoa, it’s dark.” Sophia whimpers.

  Since no one else in here other than me can see a damn thing, I zero in on the biggest dude in the tour group. He’s probably in his forties, about six-foot-four in a John Deere cap and flannel. Good enough. A short flight puts me in front of him. While hovering, I stare into his eyes and knock him into a fog.

  Careful not to brush against his wife, I clamp on and get a mouthful of… pancakes. Probably because Sierra made me think ‘lumberjack’ before. Having to endure the brutal sun on the way to the cave took a lot of energy. I would’ve had to feed later tonight anyway, so this is an awesome little convenience.

  The wife goes to wrap herself around him, so I float up and away, hovering horizontally beside him like some kind of hybrid blimp-leech for the last few sips before I seal the bite and glide away.r />
  “Dude,” whispers Ben. “It’s lit up again.”

  “Rad. Of course… the bloodsucker would be in the caves.” Cody looks around, despite not being able to see much more than the violet glow radiating from Ben’s hand.

  “See that?” Ben waves his ring hand toward where I was standing before. “Sarah? Where’d you go?”

  I zip over and land a couple feet away, then walk closer, pretending to wave my hands around so I don’t walk into rocks. “Trying not to kill myself in the dark.” The ring is throwing off quite a bit more light than it did the other night. “Whoa. That thing’s really lit up. Does the brightness mean anything?” With the boys focused on the ring, I lean around Cody and lock eyes with Chris, releasing my command to keep the lights off.

  “Yeah,” says Cody. “We think that fiend is in here. The brighter it gets, the closer we are.”

  The ring didn’t glow this strongly the other night when I stood right next to it. I rub my chin, looking back and forth between the brothers. “Are you sure?”

  A few people yelp or gasp when color returns to everything—the lights turning back on. Cody cringes, squinting at the sudden brightness. The man I fed from stands there gazing into an alternate world. Oops. In my haste to get back over to the boys, I forgot to un-derp him. Hopefully, it’ll wear off in a minute.

  His wife pats his cheek, saying ‘Hank’ over and over.

  “It could be like how powerful they are, too,” says Ben. “Remember in Virginia City, it lit up weaker in some rooms than others. Maybe stronger ghosts.” He glances around. “Mom would probably know.”

  People explore the Cathedral Chamber a bit more, taking pictures with their cell phones.

  “Don’t tell her yet.” Cody shakes his head. “If she thinks it’s too strong, she’ll make us leave.”

  “Well, if monsters happen to be real, and that ring is suggesting there’s a powerful one here, you probably shouldn’t mess with it,” I say.

  “It’s fine.” Cody pulls the neck of his shirt down to reveal a metal pentacle amulet. “We’re warded. Vampires can’t do anything to us.”