Easy Street, Unpaved - A Vampire's Change of Fortune (Hugh- Vampire. Hunter. King.)

by Wills, Robert P.

  The side and rear windows exploded out as the taxi cab screeched forward- panicked driver accidentally hitting the accelerator. The cab careened down the alley several feet, made a sharp right turn and slammed into the side of the building hurling Hugh off the cab.

  Thanks to the collapsing of the roof and windshield – and thanks to safety glass – Hugh rolled mostly unharmed off the cab, bounced off the brick wall and onto the pavement. In a flash the cab driver exited the Taxi and moved to Hugh. “You all right, Mister?” the man asked in heavily accented English. Hugh tried to stand and the helpful taxi driver shoved him back to the pavement. “Stay put Mister. I’ll call the hospital!” The taxi driver turned to retrieve his cell phone from the cab as Hugh moved to a kneeling position.

  “You should lie still”, said the man who had gotten out of the cab. He too, being helpful, shoved Hugh back to the pavement, “and wait for the paramedics. Moving around could get you killed, you know.”

  Hugh looked up at the man and then past his shoulder to the window five stories up- Hugh’s former perch. There was a police officer peering out it. “What’s going on down there?” the Policeman called.

  “That cab just hit this man, officer!” the bystander called up.

  “That, I did not do!” interjected the cab driver. “He hit me!”

  “How could he have hit you? What, did he fall from the sky?”

  “Do you need an ambulance?” the officer called down.

  “That’s exactly what he did!” countered the cabbie.

  “Want me to call an ambulance?” the officer tried again.

  “Yes!” the bystander and cabbie shouted together.

  “I’m fine!” countered Hugh. The situation was becoming infuriatingly absurd. Hugh tried to stand as the bystander grabbed him by the shoulder.

  “You should really sit still, buddy. You might have stuff broken inside that you don’t even know about.” He turned and looked at the cab driver, “You should sue him and the company.”

  “He fell onto my cab! I should sue him!”

  Hugh watched the officer in the window reach for his radio on his shoulder as he pulled his head back inside the apartment.

  “Sit and wait for the ambulance” the bystander ordered as he once again shoved Hugh to the ground.

  Hugh grabbed the man’s arm and gave it a sharp twist. The crack was audible as a spiral fracture ran from the man’s elbow to his shoulder. “You wait for the ambulance”, Hugh growled as he moved to a standing position. He was still holding the man’s arm above his wrist as he used it to steer the man back to the cab’s crushed hood. “You have stuff broken inside, I think.” With that, he gave the man’s arm another twist. With a moan, the man passed out.

  “You!” interjected the cab driver, “let go of that man and wait for the police to come!”

  Hugh took a step towards the cab driver who quickly got inside his cab. As he pulled the door shut he began to honk the horn.

  “What the hell is going on down there?” shouted the officer from the window. Hugh looked up at him. “You stay put. I have a car coming right now”, he commanded.

  Hugh looked at the unconscious man then the cab driver. The cab driver honked the horn again. He was on his cell phone but Hugh could not hear him over the din.

  “Stay put!” commanded the officer in vain as Hugh abruptly turned and jogged out of the alley.

  Hugh turned down the street after exiting the alley. It was time for another move, he thought to himself as he slowed his pace to match the people around him. There would definitely be descriptions and composite drawings of him and unfortunately, they would be with him clean shaven. Having something to shave off would have been convenient. As he worked his way to his apartment, Hugh passed a barber shop. He ducked inside.

  “We’re closed”, said the lone barber- a septuagenarian- who had been folding a smock, “You’ll have to come back tomorrow.”

  “How about I pay you fifty bucks to just shave my head? Nice and quick.”

  “Why you want your head shaved?” asked the barber. He had stopped folding the smock but was still holding it. The easy fifty dollars was enticing.

  “I lost a bet and I have to get my head shaved before I can go back into the bar. How about it, Pops, help a guy out.” Hugh smiled weakly at the man- or at least he hoped that was how the smile looked.

  “That’s some bet you lost”, replied the barber as he snapped the smock open. “You got some nice hair going on there. How about I hit you with a number one all over? So you can keep a little bit. Will your pals go for that?”

  Hugh moved to the chair, “That works for me.”

  The barber held the smock in front of himself, unmoving. “You said fifty bucks.”

  Hugh nodded, “That I did.” He reached into his pocket and took out the wad of bills he had just acquired. They were all twenties. “Here’s sixty, you get a ten dollar tip for talking me into keeping a little hair.” Hugh handed the old man three twenties as he sat down.

  “Don’t get too comfortable. This won’t take long.” The old man smiled a broad, mostly toothless grin at Hugh as he moved the smock around onto Hugh’s lap. He snapped the buttons behind Hugh’s neck. “You don’t even need paper since it will only be long hair coming off.” The old man paused again. Hugh was worried he would make a comment about the mirror and his subdued form in it. “Block or fade?” he finally asked.

  “Fade”, answered Hugh. “Say, I hate to rush a barber- that’s usually dangerous, but I got to get back to the bar quick like.”

  The old man moved past Hugh to the counter and pulled a battered electric razor from a hook. He opened a drawer and rifled through it, pulling a small black plastic attachment - a number 1- from it. He snapped it on the razor and thumbed the switch. The razor buzzed to life. “A Fade’s even quicker. Like I said, don’t get too comfortable.” The man smiled at Hugh again as he spun him around in the chair, putting himself between Hugh and the mirror. With deft strokes, Hugh’s hair began to drop to the floor in long bunches. “Another few months, and you coulda done that Locks for Love thing”, said the man as he worked around Hugh’s head. “Shame for all this hair to go to waste.”

  Hugh nodded. “Yeah, well, when you lose a bet, you got to pay up.”

  “That’s right honorable of you”, said the Barber, “most young folks now a-days would have just welched. ‘specially with hair like you got.”

  Hugh shrugged. “I’m old fashioned, I guess. I suppose it…” he began.

  “Done”, interrupted the Barber. “Don’t want to rush you off, but like I said, I’m closed and I want to get home.”

  Hugh stood and turned to the man. There was an impulse in the back of his mind to just kill him. “Thanks” he said simply as he turned and walked of the shop and onto the street. To the old man’s credit, the entire dealing had taken less than five minutes.

  ix

  Hugh looked to the left down the street, in the direction of the old woman’s apartment. No one had followed him. Screeching tires made him look right.

  “FREEZE!” Commanded a voice. Hugh turned to look at two police officers, each standing behind their open car doors, guns in their hands trained on him.

  “Step to the front of the car and keep your hands where we can see them!” Said one officer.

  “We have the 10-66 in custody”, said the other into his radio, “in front of “Barney’s Cuts on Jackson Boulevard.” The officer moved around the car door, gun still pointed at Hugh.

  Hugh stood rock still, hands at his sides. From past experience, he knew the bullets would not kill him but they were painful and the scars took years to disappear. His antics at Gettysburg had taken until the turn of the century to finally fade from sight.

  “Put your hands on your head and move to the front of the car”, commanded the first officer. The second was at the fender now, still keeping the car between him and what was obviously a deranged vigilante.

  “I think there has been some
mistake, officer”, said Hugh as he slowly raised his hands above his head. Feigning innocent and misdirection could help diffuse the situation. “Listen, I paid for my haircut and everything. You’re probably looking for someone else skipping out on a haircut. It’s a big city after all.” Hugh managed a smile, “Ask the old man inside.” He gestured with his thumb at the shop behind him. “He’ll tell you I paid.”

  Hugh appraised the two policemen. The older one seemed to be the one driving. Maybe training a rookie? That could be helpful. Both officers also had their trigger fingers along the slide of their guns. They were ready for action, but not that ready.

  “I’ll talk to the old man, you keep him covered”, said the younger officer as he moved from behind the squad car’s fender, “just to make sure he’s OK.” The officer crab walked past Hugh, keeping him in his sights as we went.

  “I’m not going to ask you again, Sir” said the first officer, “move to the front of the car and put your hands over your head.”

  Hugh glared at the officer. “My hands are above my head and I was waiting for that other officer to get past me before I moved so I wouldn’t get shot”, and unable to control himself, he finished with, “stupid.”

  The officer’s hands visibly tightened on the pistol grip. “Fine, he’s gone. Now get your ass to the front of the car.” He leaned his head over to his radio microphone, “This is Mike Fifteen, Code 20 at our location.

  “You don’t need backup, Officer”, offered Hugh as he took a step forward towards the front of the car.

  “FREEZE!” shouted the policeman, gun shaking in his hands.

  Hugh dropped his hands to his side, “OK, I’ve had about enough from you”, he snarled, “first it’s put your hands up, and I do but it’s not good enough. Then it’s walk to the car, then it’s don’t walk to the car. Freeze. Don’t freeze. You need to make up your damned mind before I make it up for you.” He took another step forward towards the car, but it was a little to the side, toward the officer as well.

  “Get your hands up!”

  “What, and move to the car? Or you do want me to stand still?”

  “MOVE TO THE FRONT OF THE CAR!” the officer shouted. His finger was now on the trigger. “Nice and slow!”

  Hugh took another step towards the front of the vehicle as he raised his hands slowly to his sides. He was almost in line with the car’s headlight and his hands were held out wide to the sides instead of overhead. In a way it seemed like he was complying with the Officer’s commands, even though he wasn’t. One more step and the only thing between him and the armed officer would be the door. Behind him, Hugh heard the jingle of the bell as the younger officer exited the shop.

  “The old man says he’s fine. And this guy paid for the haircut. Sixty bucks!”

  Hugh took his last step forward. “See? I paid for the haircut, and I tipped that old man really well. I didn’t do anything wrong. Now I just want to get going.”

  The older officer stared at Hugh down the sights of his gun. “Keep your hands where I can see them”, he commanded.

  “Carl, what’s up?” said the younger officer.

  “I don’t have a good feeling about this guy, that’s all.” Carl took his eyes off Hugh for a split second as he talked to his partner. In that moment, Hugh charged the officer and gave the door a vicious kick. The door snapped back onto the officer, knocking the wind out of him. As he loosened his grip on his gun, Hugh grabbed it. With his shoulder he pressed the door against the man. The officer’s body was pinned but his arms were free. He flailed frantically, “Shoot him!”

  Hugh looked at the younger officer. He had holstered his pistol when he entered the barber shop. Now he was fumbling to draw it. Coolly, Hugh took careful aim and shot him in the head. The pinned officer flailed with more vigor as Hugh pressed even harder on the door. “Looks like your training is done for the day, Carl”, he growled in the man’s face. Panicking, the man clawed at Hugh, drawing blood. Rage seemed to fill every crevice of Hugh’s body. Still pressing against the door, he put the pistol under the trapped police officer’s chin, met his eyes, and pulled the trigger. The top of the officer’s head exploded outward as Hugh was already moving away from the door to allow him to crumple to the ground.

  Hugh reached down to the fallen police officer and removed the extra clip from his belt. He did not even look back as he walked to the now-dead younger officer. As he took the man’s gun and extra clip, he looked into the Barber shop. The old man had watched the entire incident. Hugh took a step towards the shop as the sounds of sirens pealed through the city air. Fighting against the waves of rage, Hugh turned and began to run down the street away from the sirens, pistol in each hand. He knew that the police cars would stop where the other car was, giving him precious moments to make his escape. Even with success so near, the hatred that possessed him still made it hard to think.

  He came to an intersection and stopped to decide which way to go. Once again he could hear the sirens. They were getting closer. The old barber must have repaid the sparing of his life by pointing the police in the right direction. As he spun in a circle to decide which way to go, a passerby bumped into him.

  Without thinking twice, he emptied one of the pistols into the woman and then dropped it on the pavement beside her. Other people in the intersection ran in all directions from him and the now dead woman. Hugh grimaced at his unfortunate reaction. He gave the woman a swift kick as he moved west- into town. The sound of sirens still hung on the air and he knew that this particular intersection would be swarming with law enforcement officers trying to put him behind bars for a very long time.

  Time to go.

  Hugh continued directly to his apartment. Taking the stairs two at a time, he kicked open the door and entered. The apartment was dimly lit and sparsely decorated- a bed, table and one chair, a dresser, and an unplugged refrigerator were all that were in the apartment. Hugh moved to the bed and pulled a battered antique leather suitcase from under it. He had had it for over 100 years; it was his only material possession. He swung the suitcase around and flipped it open. It was half full of Krugerrand. Opening the dresser drawers, he quickly emptied the entire contents of the dresser onto the gold coins. Even if he had more time, High would not have even considered folding. After a quick check of the room, Hugh moved to the bathroom. He grabbed a straight razor and his other toiletries and moved back to his suitcase. Unceremoniously he dumped those items onto his clothes.

  Hugh did a quick circuit of the room to ensure he had not left anything behind. On his way out, he reached under the small wooden table and peeled a battered leather envelope from the underside of it. He opened it and looked inside. It was full of money- twenties and tens. Nearly a thousand dollars in easy-to-spend cash. As he moved to the door he stuffed it down the front of his pants.

  Hugh had moved innumerable times in the past four centuries. He had lived in this town on and off for almost eighty years. This time it was for five- the longest he had ever been anywhere for one stretch. He had enjoyed not only the bustling night life for its easy marks for petty crimes, but also the size of the town - almost a city by most standards - allowed him a certain level of anonymity. Careless tourist hunters that conveniently disappeared in the wilds were also an added bonus. However, just to be on the safe side, he spread out his eating habits to several of the surrounding villages, nearby and even far away towns- usually a month at a time, but he always returned. Now it was time to find a new home at least for a few decades.

  x

  Hugh picked up what he hoped was a casual jog, moving towards the center of town and the cover of more people, although at this time of night there would be few. As he went, the sirens became louder. He slowed to a walk and fell in behind a group of teenagers or at least close enough to use them for cover but not enough to rouse their suspicions. .Ahead he saw a police car stopped in the middle of the street, lights flashing rhythmically. Two officers were on either side of the street watching the sidewalks. The
net was set!

  As casually as he could, he turned and retraced is path. Since he had taken a couple of turns, he was not moving directly to the intersection where the dead woman lay, but it was still in the same general directions. He turned up the collar of his jacket and shoved his hands into his pocket, one holding the pistol, the other the spare magazine. He increased his pace in hopes of moving past the eastern edge of the apparent dragnet. Again, the sounds of sirens moved closer from in front of him. The death of the two in the apartment, the two officers, and the most recent pedestrian - all within the past hour - had attracted the attention of every police officer in the city. Suddenly a familiar loud squawk of a horn broke through the cold night air. Now the fire department was involved. Hugh frowned and moved to a jog again. As he came to another intersection he looked right and saw the fire truck he had heard- blocking an intersection. Firemen were moving out in all directions from it. Heading south was now out of the question.

  Hugh realized he was being channeled north and west. He was already near the edge of town and soon he would be faced with pine forests and open still snow-covered fields. To make matters worse, a wet snow began to fall. Hugh looked up at the heavens. He cursed as he began jogging again.

  The authorities assumed that facing certain death in the wilds, their murderer would turn themselves in. Hugh planned on neither of those fates. He stopped jogging and moved against a storefront. The situation needed assessed and jogging through it was not the way to do it. While deciding his next course of action, a battered pickup truck rolled down the street in his direction. Its exhaust clattered and coughed as the truck moved along. Over that, the blaring radio could be heard. Hugh could see there were two young men in it, apparently unaware of the drama unfolding around them. Hugh stepped away from the building and into the street. He waved down the truck. Dutifully, the youth driving slowed. His copilot rolled down his window. “What’s going on?” asked the youth closest to Hugh.

  “We’re looking for someone”, lied Hugh, “there’s been a shooting you know.”