The Southern Book Club's Guide to Slaying Vampires

by Grady Hendrix

  The black wind pushed hard on the windows in Slick’s hospital room and the glass creaked, while inside, the air felt as cold as the inside of a refrigerator.

  “Is this going to take long?” Maryellen asked. “Monica has a Latin project due tomorrow and I need to help her build a Parthenon out of toilet paper tubes.”

  “I don’t like being away from home,” Kitty said, tucking her hands beneath her paper gown to keep them warm.

  Kitty’s gown was tied sloppily, and Patricia could see her brown sweater with two silver sequined handprints on its chest through the paper. Maryellen wore a gingham blouse and a neatly tied paper gown. The overhead fixture had been turned off and the only light came from fluorescent bars over Slick’s headboard and over the sink, filling the room with shadows. Slick sat up in bed, a navy cardigan covered in aquamarine triangles draped over her shoulders. Patricia had done the best she could with her makeup, but Slick looked like a skull wearing a fright wig.

  Someone tapped on the door, and Mrs. Greene came in.

  “Thank you for coming,” Patricia said.

  “Hello…Mrs. Greene.” Slick smiled.

  It took Mrs. Greene a moment to recognize her, and Patricia saw her eyes become stricken with horror, and then she wrestled them into a pleasant expression.

  “How are you, Mrs. Paley?” she said. “I’m sorry you’re feeling poorly.”

  “Thank you,” Slick said.

  Mrs. Greene perched on a chair, purse in her lap, and a silence fell over the room. The wind thumped at the windows.

  “Slick,” Maryellen said. “You wanted us to come see you, but I’m getting a sinking feeling you have a secret agenda.”

  “I’m sorry, y’all,” Kitty said. “But can we hurry this up?”

  The door opened again, and they all turned and saw Grace. Everything inside Patricia squirmed and twisted away.

  Grace nodded to Slick, then saw Mrs. Greene and Patricia.

  “You called and asked me to drop by,” she told Slick. “But it seems a little crowded right this minute. I’ll come back another time.”

  She turned to go and Patricia shouted, “No!”

  Grace looked back, eyes blank.

  “Don’t go,” Slick wheezed from where she sat. “Please…”

  Caught between making a scene and doing something she didn’t want to do, Grace did something she didn’t want to do. She threaded her way between Maryellen and Kitty and took the only open seat, which was the one closest to the bed. Slick and Patricia had decided it would be harder for her to leave that way.

  “Well,” Grace said in the long silence.

  “You know,” Maryellen said, “it’s like the old book club’s back together again. Any minute someone’s going to pull an Ann Rule out of her bag.”

  Patricia leaned over and pulled Dead by Sunset out of her bag. Everyone laughed stiffly, except Grace and Mrs. Greene, who didn’t get the joke. Slick’s laughter turned into a coughing fit.

  “I assume there’s a reason we’re here,” Kitty said to Slick.

  Slick nodded to Patricia, giving her the floor.

  “We need to talk about James Harris,” Patricia began.

  “I just remembered someplace I need to be,” Grace said, standing.

  “Grace, I need you to hear this,” Patricia said.

  “I came because Slick called,” Grace said, looping her purse over one shoulder. “I will not do this again. Now, excuse me.”

  “I was wrong,” Patricia said. That stopped Grace. “I was wrong about James Harris. I thought he was a drug dealer and I misled all of you. And I’m sorry.”

  Grace’s body relaxed slightly, and she leaned back toward her chair.

  “That’s big of you,” Maryellen said. “But we were all responsible. We let those books get to our head.”

  “He isn’t a drug dealer,” Patricia said. “He’s a vampire.”

  Kitty looked like she was about to throw up. Grace’s face turned dark and ugly. Maryellen uttered a single bark of laughter and said, “What?”

  “Slick,” Patricia said. “Tell them what happened.”

  “I was…attacked,” Slick said, and instantly her eyes turned red and wet. “By James Harris…Patricia and Mrs. Greene…had a photograph that…belonged to Carter’s mother…It showed James Harris…in 1928…looking exactly the same…as he does now.”

  “I do have to go,” Grace said.

  “Grace,” Slick said. “If we were…ever friends…I need you to hear me now.”

  Grace didn’t say anything, but she stopped edging toward the door.

  “I had…the photograph and clippings…Mrs. Greene collected,” Slick continued. “Patricia came to me…because she and Mrs. Greene thought it proved…he was Satan’s agent…They wanted to go into his house…find evidence that he’d hurt children…but my pride was great…and I went to him and tried to bargain…I told him if he left town…I’d destroy the photograph and keep his secret…he attacked me…he forced himself on me…His…I’m sorry.” She tilted her head back so her tears didn’t cause her makeup to run. Patricia handed her a crumpled tissue and Slick dabbed it beneath her eyes. “His discharge…made me sick. No one knows what it’s doing inside me…the doctors don’t know…I didn’t tell anyone what he did…because…he said as long as I kept quiet…he wouldn’t hurt my children.”

  “Mrs. Greene and I went into his house,” Patricia said, picking up from Slick. “We found Francine’s corpse packed in a suitcase and shoved in his attic. I’m sure he’s gotten rid of it by now.”

  “This is in poor taste,” Grace said. “Francine was a human being. To use her death as part of your fantasy is grotesque.”

  Patricia pulled out the snapshot she’d taken the night before. It showed Korey’s thigh. The flash made the bruise and puncture mark livid against her washed-out skin. She held it out to Grace.

  “He did this to Korey,” she said.

  “What’d he do to her?” Kitty asked, softly, trying to see.

  “He seduced her behind my back,” Patricia said. “For months he’s been seducing my daughter, grooming her, feeding on her, and making her think she liked it. He says he has a condition where he has to use a person to clean his blood, like dialysis. Apparently it creates a euphoric feeling in the person. They become addicted.”

  “It’s the same mark they found on the children in Six Mile,” Mrs. Greene said.

  “It’s the same mark Ben said they found on Ann Savage after she died,” Patricia said.

  “I thought he would leave our children alone if I kept quiet,” Slick said. “But he took Korey. He could come after any one of us next. His hunger knows no limits.”

  “Before we just had suspicions,” Patricia said. “Francine was gone. Orville Reed killed himself, Destiny Taylor killed herself. But Kitty and I saw Francine’s body in his attic. He attacked Slick. He attacked my daughter. He’s grooming Blue. He wants me.”

  “Did you really see Francine’s body in his attic?” Maryellen asked Kitty.

  Kitty looked down at her paper-shrouded knees.

  “Tell her,” Patricia said.

  “He’d broken her arms and legs to stuff her inside a suitcase,” Kitty said.

  “How much more evidence do we need that none of us are safe?” Patricia asked. “The men all think he’s their best friend, but he’s taken everything he wanted right out from under our noses. How long do we wait before we do something? He is preying on our children.”

  “Call me old-fashioned,” Grace snapped. “But first you tell the police he’s a child molester. Then you tell us he’s a drug dealer. Now you say he’s Count Dracula. Your fantasies have come at a great cost to the rest of us, Patricia. Do you know what happened to me?”

  “I know,” Patricia said through gritted teeth. “I know, I messed up. Oh, God, Grace, I know I mes
sed up and I am being punished for it, but we ran away when things got hard. And now we’ve waited so long that I don’t think there’s a normal way to get rid of him. I think he’s ingrained himself too deeply into the Old Village.”

  “Spare me,” Grace said.

  “I am crawling on my knees begging for your help,” Patricia said.

  “Don’t tell me the rest of you believe this nonsense?” Grace asked.

  Maryellen and Kitty wouldn’t meet her eyes.

  “Kitty,” Patricia said. “You and I saw what he did to Francine. I know how scared you are but how long do you think it will be until he figures out you were in his attic, too? How long do you think it will be before he comes after your family?”

  “Don’t say things like that,” Kitty said.

  “It’s true,” Patricia said. “We can’t hide from it anymore.”

  “I’m not sure what you’re asking us to do,” Maryellen said.

  “You said you wanted to live where people watched out for each other,” Patricia told her. “But what’s the good of watching if we’re not going to act?”

  “We’re a book club,” Maryellen said. “What are we supposed to do? Read him to death? Use strong language? We can’t go to Ed again.”

  “I think…we’re beyond that,” Slick said.

  “Then I don’t know what we’re talking about,” Maryellen said.

  “The last time we did this we learned one thing,” Patricia said. “The men stick together. Their friendship with him is stronger now than it was then. There’s only us.”

  Grace hitched her purse’s shoulder straps higher over her shoulder and regarded the room.

  “I am leaving now before this becomes even more absurd,” she said, nodding to Kitty and Maryellen. “And I think you should both come with me before you do something you’ll regret.”

  “Grace,” Kitty said, low and calm, staring at her knees. “If you keep acting like I’m feebleminded, I’m going to smack you. I’m a grown woman, the same as you, and I saw a dead body in that attic.”

  “Good night,” Grace said, heading for the door.

  Patricia nodded to Mrs. Greene, who stepped into Grace’s path, blocking her.

  “Mrs. Cavanaugh,” she said. “Am I trash to you?”

  Grace did a double take, the first one any of them had ever seen.

  “I beg your pardon?” Grace asked, all frozen hauteur.

  Frozen hauteur didn’t cut much ice with Mrs. Greene.

  “You must think I’m trash,” Mrs. Greene said.

  Grace swallowed once, so outraged she couldn’t even get the words lined up on her tongue.

  “I said no such thing,” she managed.

  “Your actions aren’t the actions of a Christian woman,” Mrs. Greene said. “I came to you years ago as a mother and as a woman, and I begged for your help because that man was preying on the children in Six Mile. I begged for you to do something simple, to come with me to the police, and tell them what you knew. I risked my job and the money that puts food on my table, to come to you. Do you even know my children’s names?”

  It took a minute for Grace to realize Mrs. Greene was waiting for an answer.

  “There’s Abraham,” Grace said, searching for their names. “And Lily, I think…”

  “The first Harry,” Mrs. Greene said. “He passed. Harry Jr., Rose, Heanne, Jesse, and Aaron. You don’t even know how many children I’ve got, and I don’t expect you to. But you owe me. You protected yourself, but you didn’t do a thing for the children of Six Mile because they weren’t worthwhile to you. Well, now he’s coming after your children. Mrs. Campbell’s daughter is one of you. Mrs. Paley is supposed to be your friend. Mrs. Scruggs saw Francine’s body in his house. What are you made of, Mrs. Cavanaugh, that lets you walk away from your friends?”

  They watched Grace cycle through a dozen different emotions, a hundred possible responses, her jaw working, her chin clenching, the cords in her neck twitching. Mrs. Greene stared back at her, jaw outthrust. Then Grace pushed past her, threw open the door, and slammed it behind her.

  In the silence, none of them moved. The only sound was wind whistling through a chink in the window’s weatherstripping.

  “She’s right,” Slick said. “All of us…got scared and sacrificed the children of Six Mile…for our own. We were…embarrassed and frightened. Proverbs says…‘Like a muddied spring or a polluted fountain…is a righteous man who gives way…before the wicked.’ We gave way…We wanted to believe…that Patricia was wrong because it meant we didn’t have to do…anything hard.”

  Patricia decided it was safe to push them to the next step.

  “I don’t know if the word is vampire or monster,” Patricia said. “But I’ve seen him like this twice and Slick has seen it once. He’s not like us. He can live for a very long time. He’s strong. He can see in the dark.”

  “His willpower can make animals do his bidding,” Mrs. Greene said.

  Patricia looked over at her, both of them thinking about the rats, about the way the house smelled for days after, about Miss Mary in the hospital, unconscious, her wounds stained with iodine, breathing through a tube. Patricia nodded.

  “I think you’re right,” she said. “And he needs to put his blood through people to live. They get addicted to him. Right now, Korey would stab me in the back for him to suck on her again. That’s how good it feels. He’s gotten everything he wants, so why would he stop by himself? We need to stop him.”

  “Again,” Maryellen said, “we’re a book club, not a bunch of detectives. If he’s so much stronger than us, this is futile.”

  “You think…we can’t match him?” Slick asked from her bed. “I’ve had three children…And some man who’s never felt…his baby crown is stronger than me? Is tougher than me? He thinks he’s safe…because he thinks like you…He looks at Patricia and thinks we’re all a bunch of Sunshine Suzies…He thinks we’re what we look like on the outside: nice Southern ladies. Let me tell you something…there’s nothing nice about Southern ladies.”

  There was a long pause, and then Patricia spoke.

  “He has one weakness,” Patricia said. “He’s alone. He’s not connected to other people, he doesn’t have any family or friends. If one of us so much as misses a car pool pickup everyone starts dropping by the house to make sure we’re okay. But he’s a loner. If we can make him disappear, totally and completely, there’s no one to ask questions. There may be a hard day or two but they will pass, and it will be like he never existed.”

  Maryellen turned her face to the ceiling, arms out in a shrug. “How are you sitting here talking like this is normal? We’re six women. Five women, because I don’t think Grace is coming back. I mean, Kitty, your husband has to open jars for you.”

  “It’s not…about that,” Slick said, eyes blazing. “It’s not about…our husbands or anyone else…it’s about us. It’s about whether…we can go the distance. That’s what matters…not our money, or our looks, or our husbands…Can we go the distance?”

  “Not with killing a man,” Maryellen said.

  “He’s not a man,” Mrs. Greene said.

  “Listen to me,” Slick said. “If there were…a toxic waste dump in this city…that caused cancer…we would not stop until we closed it down. This is no different. This is our families’ safety we’re talking about…our children’s lives. Are you willing to gamble…with those?”

  Maryellen leaned forward and touched Kitty’s leg. Kitty looked up from studying her knees.

  “You really saw Francine in his attic?” Maryellen asked. “Don’t lie to me. You’re sure it was her and not a shadow or a mannequin or some Halloween decoration?”

  Kitty nodded, miserable.

  “When I close my eyes I see her in that suitcase, wrapped in plastic,” she moaned. “I can’t sleep, Maryellen.”

  Mar
yellen studied Kitty’s face, then leaned back.

  “How do we do it?” she asked.

  “Before we go any further,” Slick said. “We have to see it through…and then never talk about it again…I have to hear it from each of you…After this there’s no…changing your mind.”

  “Amen,” Mrs. Greene said.

  “Of course,” Patricia agreed.

  “Kitty?” Slick asked.

  “God help me, yes,” Kitty exhaled in a rush.

  “Maryellen?” Slick asked.

  Maryellen didn’t say anything.

  “He’ll come for Caroline next,” Patricia said. “Then Alexa. Then Monica. He’ll do to them what he’s done to Korey. He’s just hunger, Maryellen. He’ll eat and eat until there’s nothing left.”

  “I won’t do anything illegal,” Maryellen said.

  “We’re beyond that,” Patricia said. “We’re protecting our families. We will do whatever it takes. You’re a mother, too.”

  Everyone watched Maryellen. Her back was stiff and then the fight went out of her and her shoulders slumped.

  “All right,” she said.

  Patricia, Slick, and Mrs. Greene exchanged a look. Patricia took it as her cue.

  “We need a night when everyone’s distracted,” she said. “Next week is the Clemson-Carolina game. The entire population of South Carolina is going to be glued to their television sets from kickoff until the last down. That’s when we do it.”

  “Do what?” Kitty asked in a very small voice.

  Patricia took a black-and-white Mead composition book from her purse.

  “I read everything I could about them,” she said. “About things like vampires. Mrs. Greene and I have been making a list of the facts they agree on. There are as many superstitions about how to stop one as there are how to create one: exposure to sunlight, drive a stake through its heart, decapitation, silver.”

  “We can think he’s evil and not an actual vampire,” Maryellen said. “Maybe he’s like that Richard Chase, the Vampire of Sacramento, and he just thinks he’s a vampire.”