The Source

by J B Stilwell

  Taking a deep breath and the high road of not starting the evening with an argument I say, "Yes, but she doesn't exactly project an air of helpfulness. I'm not sure I would even feel comfortable in approaching her to give me the Heimlich maneuver."

  Rick tilts his head toward me. "Then, my dear, you would choke to death. Sometimes your comfort is just not worth it."

  I huff with my bottom lip slightly pouty, "Point taken. But don't expect me to get all buddy-buddy with her."

  "Of course not. She's here to observe. Not socialize. You only have to worry about that with me."

  Rick grins as if he knew the butt of the joke and said butt was me. I choose to ignore it.

  I open my notebook, ready to start working instead of talking.

  "So, I did a lot of thinking out loud earlier today. And there are some more things that I would like to know more about with regard to the way the sun kills vampires."

  "Okay," Rick says as he turns to lean his back against the center island, hands resting against the edge of the countertop.

  "I know that we had originally talked about the possibility of the reaction being a severe type of allergic response. But is it really? I was in the shower and the water was really hot and I noticed how red my skin was getting, which made me think more about something more mundane - like what if it is more like a burn and not an allergic response? I just really don't know how it affects vampires because I've never seen it."

  He turns toward me with his hip still against the island, smirking, "Do you usually do most of your critical thinking in the shower?"

  "What does that have to do with anything?" I say as I cross my arms against my chest.

  "Sorry, distraction. I'm a visual thinker." Rick smiles. "So how do you propose a way to observe the effects of the sun on a vampire?"

  I can feel my jaw clenching as I hug myself even tighter, "I don't know, maybe participant observation? You participate and I'll observe."

  Rick continues to smile, "I'll resign myself to less fatal ways of getting hot."

  I put on my most charming smile, "Oh, it doesn't have to be fatal. We just need a small piece of your flesh to see how it reacts to the sun."

  "If I could interrupt your pseudo-sexual banter, I may have a solution," interrupts Ms. Montgomery.

  I turn to her and exclaim, “I beg your pardon? It's not sexual!"

  "Well, at least it's not pseudo," Rick counters as he turns to face Ms. Montgomery.

  She continues to sit as she looks at both of us, "Regardless of what you all want to tell yourselves, I am suggesting that you might view some of the archive footage we have within the facility."

  I walk over to the table to give her my full attention and put some distance between Rick and me. I have the feeling that if I get too close right now, his participation might indeed be fatal – in the deadly to my restrained libido type of way. "What kind of footage?"

  "FOHVA has been collecting data since its inception. Part of what we have procured is video of certain events considered of benefit for further research." Ms. Montgomery leaned back in her chair without offering any further information.

  I look at Rick then look back at her, "And some of this video is of vampires being exposed to sunlight?"

  "There are a few, yes."

  Rick walks passed me closer to the table, "And just how did FOHVA procure these videos?"

  Ms. Montgomery looks at him with absolutely no expression on her face, "I'm not at liberty to discuss such things even if I did know the exact circumstances under which the footage was shot. I can assist you in obtaining these videos if it will help with your work on the project."

  Rick lets out a breath that I had no idea that he was holding. Wait, vampires breathe? Or maybe he was just forcing air out without the need to rid his body of carbon dioxide. Whatever. I'll ask that question later.

  "Can you please get us the videos, Ms. Montgomery?" I say, proud that I could force myself to be gracious toward someone who was as sociable as a cold fish.

  She slightly nods her head, "I will make the call. The videos will be here within ten minutes. Should I assume that you would like to peruse all of them?"

  I can see Rick's back stiffen. "Yes, Ms. Montgomery, that would be helpful," I replied.

  Rick looks at me, "While we're waiting, I'm going to get something to eat." He then briskly walks out the door.

  I look at the door, then at Ms. Montgomery. She goes back to her archiving work as if nothing has happened. I, on the other hand, am completely baffled by what has just happened and why Rick has responded the way that he did. And I definitely don’t want to think about what him "going to get something to eat" entailed and why it was happening right now.

  I continue to stand by the table not knowing what I should do at that point. I wring my hands in nervous confusion. I turn and walk back to the island, open my notebook and begin preparing a section to take notes on the videos. There are many things that we need to look out for, such as smoke and fire. That would be an indication of burning, or at least cooking, like an egg on the sidewalk in the middle of summer. If something like an extreme rash developed, that might be indication of an allergic reaction.

  From what Rick had previously said with what the remains look like after a sun death, it seemed to make more sense that it was some type of combustion. Maybe it doesn’t have anything to do with an allergy at all.

  The door opens as I am writing all of my thoughts down. I look up to see a rather plain young man enter the suite, hand Ms. Montgomery some plastic cases, then promptly leave.

  Without looking up she says, “Here are the videos you wanted to see.”

  I look around without moving away from the island. Taking a deep breath to cleanse me of my sporadic immaturity I ask her, “Do we have a way to view the videos in the suite?”

  She looks up and replies, “On the back wall there are sliding closet doors. Within you will find a large stand equipped with a television and DVD player.” She goes back to working on her computer. I suddenly feel like I have been a huge inconvenience for interrupting her. I try not to make any more noise as I head to the back wall.

  As I slide the closet doors open to retrieve the television stand, I hear the door of the suite slam shut. I look over my shoulder and see Rick walking toward the back wall. I lock my fingers around the sides of the stand, looking down at the floor. The discomfort of before made it hard to look him in the eye for some reason. He steps close to me and simply says, “Did we get the videos?”

  I nod while glancing up at him. “Ms. Montgomery has them.”

  “Alright,” he exhales, “let’s get this over with. I’ll get the television and DVD player set up. You go get the discs.”

  Still feeling weird while he acts blandly, giving direct orders, I choose to just follow them. I realize that if I feel uncomfortable not knowing what is going on, that may be an indication of even worse feelings if I did know. As mom would say, best to let sleeping dogs lie. Not really in the mood to get “bit” for trying to “wake” him up.

  I walk over to the table and without saying a word, Ms. Montgomery hands the discs to me. I take them, say a near silent thank you and walk back over to Rick and the television stand.

  Rick takes one of the DVDs and places it into the DVD player. He then uses the remote control to close the DVD tray and turn on the television. The screen flickers with static as if the video had been copied from some other media source. The black-and-white non-coloring suggests that the footage was quite dated, possibly thirty years old or more. It is very hard to determine what is going on because the scene appears to be so calm. An empty parking lot on a sunny day. Suddenly someone walks into focus on the screen. In no more than ten seconds the individual begins to smoke as his skin turned dark. Amazingly his form began to seemingly melt before finally exploding into piles of what looks like dried and wet bits of flesh.

  I look at Rick. His jaw is clenched as he watches the television screen. I turn back toward Ms. Montgom
ery and ask, “What went on in this video? Do we have any information on the circumstances surrounding these deaths?”

  Without looking away from her computer she says, “I have no information on the circumstances or how the videos were obtained.”

  Rick seemingly clears his throat, “It’s just a theory, but it appears that the video was taken before vampires were accepted into society. During that time whenever one of us was ‘found out,’ sometimes it was easier to commit suicide than withstand human torture.”

  I look back at him, my brow furrows. “Human torture? If vampires were not known to the general population, what would have been the reason for torture?”

  “Torture in the sense of scientific experimentation. Humans didn’t know about us, that we were more than just legend. So when one of us was discovered, there was an urge to study us...scientifically.”

  I stand there looking at the screen when he turns to me, his face completely blank. “For some, the sun was a more attractive option than being cut up on a table.”

  “Yet, aren’t we here to do the same thing? I mean, study vampires scientifically?”

  “Not the same context,” he responds. “Vampires are known. With knowledge erases the probability of secret experiments with no regulation, so system in place to prevent gross misconduct by those performing the studies.” He lifts one of his shoulders, “At least, that’s the belief amongst vampires. I hope we’re not wrong.”

  I nod solemnly and gesture toward the television so we could begin the next piece of video. Rick points the remote toward the DVD player and pushes play.

  The next piece of footage was just as dated and showed several vampires tied together in a pile with a bunch of rabid-acting humans circling around them. It appears that they were in a clearing, surrounded by woods. The sky was light, but the sun was not yet visible. The humans were screaming obscenities and calling the vampires such things as bloodsuckers, demons, leeches, freaks, animals and monsters. Not very creative, but frightening to say the least. Their actions are what is more disturbing. The fact that they had these vampires tied up in a pile hurling insults is one thing. It made it exceedingly worse to see some of the humans spitting on them and throwing what appeared to be excrement on them to "make them smell better."

  As we continue to watch the events play out, the sky began to get lighter and the sun started to peak over the tops of the trees. As the first rays began to heat the vampires' shit-covered flesh, smoke began to rise as agonizing screams overcame the hateful taunts of the humans who had begun chanting "vamp barbecue."

  The ultimate end is the same as the previous footage. The vampires appeared to melt en masse before exploding into millions of bits like wet death confetti raining down on the celebrating perpetrators. What appeared to be a few flakes of dried, ashen flesh floated up with the wind current leaving nothing but a puddle of gore.

  Rick pauses the video and stands silently while staring at the screen. I again don’t know what to do with myself. Should I say something? Will that just be more aggravating? Will staying quiet make it seem like I'm an unfeeling bitch? I just don't know what to do in these situations. But like Rick told me before, discomfort is no a reason to NOT do something.

  I start simple. "Do we need to watch more or do we have an idea of what we need?"

  Rick forces a caustic laugh. "Oh, I have plenty of ideas. It's just that none of them will help the project."

  Without saying another word he pushes the play button. The next footage appears to be more recent. The video is clearer and the color is more vivid. There was a solitary vampire in a white room. She appears dazed, looking around as if she had no idea where she was or how she got there. She began walking around the room, feeling the walls as if she were willing a door to appear.

  Suddenly there is a sound as if a large door was sliding open, only it wasn't a door - it was the ceiling parting in the center, slowly letting sunlight into the room. The vampire began to scramble, trying to meld into a corner before she began scratching at the walls desperately trying to create a way out. Unfortunately the structure was reinforced and all she managed to do was rake bloodied hands up and down the white wall, a ghastly request for help written in the corner of her own personal execution chamber. As the sunlight began to hit, she started screaming before melting to nothing but pieces of what appeared to be scorched tissue, bone and bloody tangles.

  Rick stops the video, slams the remote on the island and stalks over to Ms. Montgomery, "Who in this facility has more information on these videos?"

  She glances up at him without a quiver in her voice, "I honestly do not know, but Mr. Caulfield might be able to answer your questions."

  Rick storms out of the room slamming the suite door.

  Ms. Montgomery looks up at me. I wring my hands as the corner of my mouth twitches.

  "Um, I guess it's time to take a break," I stammer, "I'm going to go get something to drink."

  Without saying a word, Ms. Montgomery looks back at her laptop screen and returns to her work. I slowly walk past her, nervously glancing at her as if she might jump out at me and say, "Boo!" Things have suddenly gotten so tense that if we didn't get a reprieve, air itself will strangle me.

  Feeling like I’m ungracefully walking through a pool of water, I make it to the suite door and slip out into the hallway. No one is lurking around, so I cautiously make my way toward the pop machine near the cafeteria. I keep trying to figure out how things went so badly, so quickly. I realize that watching the footage must have been difficult for Rick. That was pretty damn obvious from his reaction. But I'll admit that I don't understand it. I've seen horrible things happen to humans, and I haven't stormed away from everything because I couldn't handle it. Maybe women really are the stronger sex. Or maybe not. If I’m honest, in these situations I might smile pretty, but later I would be in the shower crying uncontrollably.

  I arrive at the pop machine and get the appropriate amount of change from my pocket. Sugar and caffeine would be the perfect antidote right now. At least that's what I told myself. I bend to get the bottle from the machine, and then suddenly jerk around to face the wall. I'm freaking myself out now. I could have sworn someone was behind me. No one here except for me and my trusty Coke.

  Shaking my head, I take a deep breath and make my way back to the suite. I walk only about a quarter of the way back when I see Tucker walking in my direction. I consciously make myself slow down, if only to figure out what will I say if he tries to talk to me. It seems that his pace actually picks up and before I know it he is only a couple of yards in front of me.

  "Emma, thank God I ran into you."

  I slowly continue to walk with full intentions of continuing right past him. "I really messed up," he says, "what I did was reprehensible, an invasion of privacy. Just because I like you gives me no right to abuse my position to track you down to try to convince you to spend some time with me."

  I continue walking around him, "Tucker, you scared me. Everything you have done has made me uncomfortable. I feel weird just being around you."

  "I'm sorry. I never wanted you to feel that way about me. I’m not very good with people in general, much less women." He continues to walk beside me, retracing his steps. "Women usually overlook me, as if I don't exist. I didn't want to take the chance that the same thing would happen with you."

  I look at him as he eagerly searches my face to see if I would accept his apology. His entire appearance is absolutely pathetic. His clothes are disheveled and I question whether or not he has bathed. The hair that used to neatly lie in a ponytail at the base of his neck now looks like a home for wayward rats. I can’t believe it, but I actually start to feel badly for him. He obviously had a rough night and from what he said, what he had done did really bother him.

  I slowly come to a halt, "I appreciate your apology. I can't help feeling weird though. I'm not used to this kind of thing. It will take some time for me to get back to normal. I'll come talk to you when I'm ready."

/>   I begin to walk toward the suite again when he rushes up beside me, practically begging, "How long do you think it will take you to get back to normal?"

  I take a deep breath, hanging my head as I try to think of the best thing to say. I look back up into his face. "A few days...maybe a little longer. I promise, I will find you when I'm ready. Now I need to get back to work."

  I walk away from him. I fight the urge to look over my shoulder back at him. I’m afraid of what I might see - either him already being gone or still watching me. I don't know which scares me most.

  Chapter 10

  I open the door to the suite to see that Rick still hasn’t returned, and Ms. Montgomery is still tirelessly working. I slowly walk in, wrapping my hands around my bottle of Coke. I don’t really want to just sit around waiting on Rick to get back. I need to do something to feel useful. I don’t really want to watch more of the videos because I’m not really getting what I need from them. I need to be able to look closer, to have an almost telescopic view of how the vampires’ skin reacted to the sunlight. What I need was to be able to zoom into the footage. This may prove futile given the quality of the video, but it’s worth a try and will keep me from just standing around like an idiot.

  “Um, Ms. Montgomery?” I stammer.

  “Yes?” she replies without turning from her laptop.

  I smile in my nervousness, trying not to trip into a giggle fit. “I was wondering, would there be a way...some equipment in the facility that we could use to zoom in on the footage that you obtained for us?” Although feeling foolish, I’m proud of the fact that I actually asked instead of just looking around the room like a robber who doesn’t even know what she’s looking to steal.

  She looks over her shoulder, “That computer in the corner,” she nods her head toward the machine, “it has movie editing software that will allow you to zoom in, cut footage, and save what you need.”

  Not wanting to press my luck in asking her to show me how to use the program, I just nod a thank you then walk to the television to retrieve the disc. The clickety-clack of her keyboard lets me know that she has promptly returned to her work. What is it that she’s recording when we’re not even really doing anything? Is she writing about more than just her observations of the project? Is she critiquing us as individuals? Best not to think about it right now or it will drive myself crazy.