by Alex Dire
“What exactly are you proposing?” asked Walsh.
“Fear. Control.”
“I'm listening.”
“There’s fear out there and Kramer is not exploiting it. Neither are you.”
Walsh remained silent. He gave a slow nod.
“You read about those teens the other night. Butchered by an unknown vampire. Vigilante squads have started forming. They use wood. Silver. Nobody wins in that kind of situation. You need to take a stand.”
Wash raised an eyebrow. “And...?”
So dense. If she didn’t need this one, she’d lunge across the desk and rip out his throat. That, however, would have to wait until later.
“A Vampire Registration Bill.”
“How would that work?” replied Walsh.
“Pretty simple, really. Round them up, and register everyone. Track them with tech. Know where they are.”
Walsh pursed his lips. “It might whip up sympathy. There’s a strong undercurrent of that going on, in case you hadn’t noticed. They did save the president.”
“How you got this far is amazing to me. Fear, sir. Fear is the thing.”
“Hmm.” Walsh looked away, bringing a hand to his chin.
“You can spin it as a way to keep vampires safe from vigilante groups. You can even announce it that way publicly. There are other ways to get your true meaning out to the right constituencies.”
Walsh dropped his hand back down and leaned forward. “For their…your own protection.”
“Stop saying ‘your.’ I want them dead just like you. If I’d wanted a weakling, I would have gone to Kramer.”
“It could peel off enough sympathizers to make a difference,” said Walsh. “I hadn’t thought of it that way.”
“Everyone wins.”
Walsh placed his hands together fingertip to fingertip. “I don’t think so. You people are smart. Some of you are…how old?”
“Don’t you see that none of that is of consequence. It’s a matter of your own survival.”
The senator’s mouth turned flat.
“Look. I came in here without an appointment. I got past all your staff, your secret service contingent. I could have just killed you. Any of us can.”
Walsh's face slackened.
“You’re not ready for us, Walsh.” Skeete leaned in. “None of you are. There’s no other choice.”
Walsh leaned back as if repelled. His mouth opened and bobbed.
For such short lives, they certainly waste enough of it in their excruciating, slow heads.
Walsh stood up and extended his hand. “Ms. Daniels, I’m not sure what your real motives are.”
Fool.
“But I think we can work together.”
Skeete smiled and shook the candidate’s hand. “I believe you’ll find we will both come out of this ahead.” That was a lie. She was certain Walsh would not survive the relationship. No matter, she was closer to her prize. She’d worked her whole, miserable long life to kill every vampire in existence and now she was on the verge of making it happen. What was one human life? Even if he was the president.
11
Remainders
Norman opened a draw in the kitchen of the condo and withdrew a wad of cash holding it out to Felicia. “Stop at Fiore’s and pick up his remainders. Always give back.”
Felicia shook her head. “Why, Mr. Bernard? We can make it so they don’t remember.”
“We don’t take, Felicia. We exchange. We’re going to be living among them now. Better get used to it.”
“Shiite. I liked it the old way better,” said Macmanus.
The nymphs left the condo and went out into the night to practice their feeding. Norman resisted the urge to supervise. They’d have to learn to do this on their own. Gradual release, they called it in the parlance of his trade.
Moments later, the phone rang. Rae’s voice frantically blurted out words on the other end. “Norman. Turn on the TV.”
“What is it?”
“Just turn it on.”
Norman grasped the remote and flicked on the power.
The image of Walsh sparked to life with a lower thirds graphic displaying his name. He spoke at a podium in the rotunda of the state capital where he did so much of his campaigning these days.
“…which makes no one safe. Groups of citizens have formed vigilante squads who patrol the streets. They’ve tortured and murdered several vampires. We’ve found that they’ve even killed innocent humans in tragic cases of mistaken identity. Indeed, no one is safe. Citizens deserve to be safe in their homes. Let the police monitor the streets. No one should be forced to resort to vigilantism to feel safe. Vampires should not fear being hunted down. Each side is afraid of the other and the consequences have been terrible. I fear they’ll only get worse.”
Walsh paused and looked up from his notes. “And so, tonight I’m announcing my proposal for a Vampire Registration Bill. I’m calling for all vampires to be registered and tracked with a sub dermal chip.” He paused once again. “This will allow law enforcement to know the whereabouts and numbers of all vampires. For us this means we can feel safe. We can be sure that no vampire is lurking about our neighborhoods waiting to…” He paused to let the audience imagine the rest. He was good. “It also means that vampires can feel safe, with no need to prove their intentions. Everyone wins. Everyone is safe.”
Dear God. Matt had been right. This could only end badly for Norman and for what remained of vampiredom.
“I have drafted the bill. Senators Jennings and Ganim will submit it tomorrow morning. It will be ready for a vote by inauguration day. This is our most pressing national security issue. I promise to the American people, that when I’m elected, it will be the first thing I sign. I also promise I will not sign any other legislation until this bill passes. It will be my top priority.” Shutters clicked rapidly and flashes flooded the podium with flickering light. “It will keep us all safe. Humans and vampires. It will prevent bloodshed. It will allow us to go back to our lives. Thank you.”
A rush of reporter’s voices rose up with questions. Norman flicked off the TV.
As soon as the screen blanked out he felt it. A tingling. Danger. This was different, though. Normally it was a narrow-pointed feeling. It gave a sense of direction and intention. Now he felt a vast prickling across his mind and body. A low-level surge from all around as if he were surrounded by a danger that lurked just under the surface of everything. And he’d just sent the nymphs out.
Norman dashed out the door to meet them at Fiore’s. Moments later, he arrived to a shop empty of all but young Fiore.
“Norman,” said the baker. “So glad to see you. Late for your usual visit.”
“Have you seen…” how should he put it, “any kids?”
Fiore stopped swirling his rag around the counter. “No. What kids?”
“Sorry, old friend, no time.” Norman dashed out the door whirring around the corner to his alley. No one was in there except for two passed out indigents. Norman sniffed. The familiar smells of sweat and urine. No nymphs.
His mind raced. Where could they be? Then another sensation pierced through the ambient danger that seemed to exist wherever he ran. Fear. Felicia’s fear. He felt it and followed. The growing terror led him deeper into the neighborhood where more derelict buildings stood. He heard voices and followed them to another alley. A large group of people stood at the alley’s entrance and looked in. Norman shoved his way through. Another smaller group stood facing the back of the alley. They held home-made sharpened wooden weapons of various kinds.
At the back, against the wall, huddled his nymphs. They could fight their way out of this, but they hadn’t. They had backed up all the way. They looked frantically around. There was no fire escape to climb. No windows to grab on to.
Norman looked on in horror. The nymphs stopped searching and began assuming defensive fighting postures. They knew how to fight. Nebulous had seen to that. But he’d never wanted them to use their ski
lls like this. Against humans.
Then Felicia changed her demeanor. She tipped her head down and stared into the band of wood-wielding humans that closed on them. “Turn and go. There’s no reason for you to be here.”
That’s it, thought Norman. Confidence. Perfect.
Most of the small posse turned and walked out. Five remained.
Felicia stood and repeated her command, but the five continued their advance. At first, Norman put it off to a novice mistake. A failure to grasp. However, some of them had left. She must have done it correctly. Norman realized these five humans were already seduced. By who? He looked around the crowd seeking out another vampire. Who controlled their wills? Who had set them against his nymphs? This was getting too complicated. Vampires had infiltrated these vigilantes. It was going to end in blood and all these witnesses would report it to the news. Walsh's bill would gain support. The timing couldn’t be worse.
If it came to a fight, there needed to be no witnesses. Norman, now at the front of the onlookers, turned and faced them. He honed his focus and saw their wills, wild, red hot and uncontrolled, so easy to manipulate. But wait. A few orbs hung cool and blue in the air. More slippery. Vampires. He could control them, too, at least some of them. But humans and vampires at the same time? He’d never done that. He focused and gripped the humans, then bore down reaching for the vampires. Before he could complete the effort, he felt a few of the humans slip from his will. He bit his cheek in effort. Two more slipped away. He'd never had trouble grasping the wills of humans before. What was going on? His focus broke. The world phased back in.
“Get back!” Norman shouted. He opened his mouth to reveal his huge canines, letting out a melodramatic hiss. The group backed up in unison. He could almost feel their fear. He lunged forward. The group fell apart and ran. Except for the four vampires he’d sensed.
They broke from the crowd and ran at him. Norman retreated into the alley. He leapt over the small clique and landed with his nymphs.
He turned to face the advancing humans and vampires. Two of the vampires were huge. Corps-V regulars. Norman feared they were Skeete’s super mutants. He'd known some of the near indestructible genetically enhanced vampires had managed to survive the battle at the White House. This would change the dynamics of this fight. The group that advanced stopped several feet away. A stand-off ensued for a moment.
Norman turned his head to the side. “Watch out for the people.” Then he looked at his opponents. “Do what you like with the rest.”
Norman charged, sprinting into the biggest soldier. The Corps. V, faster and better trained, caught him and threw him over his head and back toward the mouth of the alley. Strong, but not very strategic. Felicia charged in right after Norman, taking advantage of the soldier’s exposed abdomen as he threw Norman overhead.
She tackled him to the ground and punctured his gut with her nails, tearing out a hunk of flesh and intestine. The solder growled and fell to his knees. His face contracted in pain as he tried to hold in his guts.
The rest of the nymphs charged in behind, colliding with the onrushing group of marauders.
Norman dashed back into the fray. One of the humans lay against the wall, out cold. Two others poked at Macmanus with their make-shift stakes. He easily batted them away clearly taking caution not to kill them in the process.
The other soldier held Tyreese and Declan. One in each hand and raised them off the ground. He slammed them down with savage force. Norman could hear their ribs crack over their grunts of pain. The soldier then stomped onto Declan’s chest, collapsing it. Blood spurted from the boy’s mouth. His crushed lungs could produce no shriek.
Norman struck the soldier from behind like heavy lightning. They tumbled. The soldier hit the ground face first. But he was so fast. He leapt back up and faced Norman before the teacher could get to his feet. The Super-V stood, spitting teeth through his crushed face.
He withdrew a small wooden knife from his belt and flicked it. Norman was fast, but not fast enough. The knife sliced through his throat. Blood sprayed like a fountain. The life drained from Norman’s limbs and he crumbled to the ground.
“I’m going to watch you suffer before I kill you. You owe a great debt.”
Norman reached to his throat and pulled at the knife. His weakened fingers gripped the handle. He felt every fiber of the wood tear its way out of his neck.
Just as he’d slid the knife out, he flung it back at the large vampire. It fell short. Norman was too weak from loss of blood. He felt the wound healing, however, and his power returning. Everything was easier when you didn’t have a damned piece of wood sticking out of you.
He rose as the Corps V. charged at him. He braced himself for the impact. It struck with ruthless force.
The two tumbled together. Norman stopped against a soft form on the ground. His attacker sprang up to his feet, ready to strike again. Norman lay face to face with Felicia, prone and injured with a boot against her neck. Her eyes were filled with water and fear. She moved her mouth, but no words came through. Her abdomen was torn open and blood-soaked gristle lay strewn about her.
Norman couldn’t believe she was still conscious. Her fear radiated from somewhere deep within him. Somewhere that kept them connected. His own fear joined it. He couldn’t let her die like this. He’d saved her from death once. But he couldn’t save her from this kind of death.
Norman scrambled to his feet, but before he could get his bearings, a soldier kicked him with savage force, sending him smashing against the wall. His head rang and pain blackened his vision.
Norman fought to stay conscious. His wounds healed, but more slowly. He needed to feed. Laying still, Norman spied Tyreese and Declan on the ground motionless. Macmanus fought off the three regular vampires with a stake.
Norman’s attacker stood next to the brute with his boot on Felicia’s neck. A silent form rose off the ground from behind them. Cindy. She leaped foot-first at Felicia’s captor.
The other soldier spun faster than wind, catching Cindy’s boot and twisting her leg. She dropped with a screech.
All the nymphs were down.
Macmanus was pinned against the wall, his arms held by three vampires.
The super-V’s had a weakness. What Norman wouldn’t give for some of the serum right now. His nymphs were trained, and could hold them at bay, if they only had their weapons.
Norman’s advice to remain peaceful was costing them dearly now. This was his fault. He'd underestimated the hate for vampires out there. He never imagined Skeete would strike the flames of hatred.
Norman felt his throat close as if Felicia's pain was his own. He felt her silent plea for help. No. This couldn't be happening. He couldn't let it happen.
One of the regular vampires shouted, “Well? What are your orders?”
A soldier replied, “Enough fun. Lets get this done.”
In an instant, the two super-V’s had sharpened wooden knives in their hands.
In an instant more, they’d kill half the nymphs and himself. Norman tried to push himself to his feet. He knew he couldn’t take them, but he had to try. But his strength leaked out with his blood. He slumped to the floor. Felicia's silent plea tugged at him. I'm sorry. I've failed. His vision grew dark.
Suddenly, something moved at the opening of the alley. A figure in a hoodie slid in, blending with the darkness of the wall. A spike of hope. Norman flicked his eyes around the alley. His enemies hadn’t noticed.
Norman smelled something. The attackers all froze, sniffing and looking about the alley. Dog. He’d hated that smell once. Now it was starting to grow on him.
12
Night Terrors
Two wolves sailed through the air into the alley, landing on the mutated Corps. V soldiers. They struck with precision, their large muzzles around the vampires’ necks. As the soldiers fell back, the wolves tore at their throats. The vampire’s raised their arms in defense, exposing their abdomens. The canines back legs gouged out their guts, sendi
ng strings of intestines splatting to the ground.
As they hit the pavement, the wolves sprang again at the regular vampires who backed away. Two humans leapt into the way, intercepting the wolves, but were quickly tackled. The wolves leapt again, leaving the humans bleeding from scratches on their faces.
Their wolf claws found their marks, shredding the vampire flesh with ease, spraying blood like fountains from their bodies. The dogs chewed out their throats and then turned back to the enhanced soldiers.
Charging once again, they landed atop the soldiers who attempted to rise while holding in their innards. One went down. The second managed to get his fingers around a wolf’s leg and flung him to the dark end of the alley.
He then gripped the other wolf’s scruff and flicked him to the side of the alley. The wolf struck the wall and fell to the ground, but instantly sprung back to its feet. The wolf’s partner bound from the darkness, joining his pack mate. They growled, blood and saliva dripping from their teeth. The other vampires backed away toward the mouth of the alley.
“Abort,” gurgled the larger of the two soldiers through his ruined throat.
The regular vampires turned to make for the alley entrance, the soldiers right behind. The two wolves converged on the leader. They took him down and tore savagely at his flesh, and muscles, and organs. One dug its snout into his chest and wrenched out his heart. It beat twice before the wolf squeezed the bulbous muscle between its teeth. Chunks of heart tissue fell to the ground as blood spurted out through torn arteries. The second wolf nipped at hanging bits from the muzzle of the other. They chewed momentarily and swallowed the shredded organ.
They turned to pursue the mouth of the alley, but the enemies had escaped in a blur of retreat.
The two beasts circled around Norman. One had swirling blue eyes. By now, though, Norman recognized the coat.
“Juda, Adrian. Thank you.”
