by Jim Cogan
“I’m sorry, I’m pretty open minded but that story is the biggest heap of-.”
“I’m still talking, Mr Jerome, don’t interrupt me again, okay? So, this is the deal – two simple choices. One, you come and work for me. Two, you end up very dead, very soon. You have twenty four hours to consider it, after which you will have to make your choice and one of those two things will occur.”
She stood up, making like she was going to leave. I sat there for a few seconds, attempting to process what she had just said. Eventually I got up and strode around to my drinks cabinet at the far wall. I fixed myself a generous glass of whiskey.
“Miss Valance. Do you have any idea how utterly preposterous what you’ve just told me sounds. Seriously, what do you take me for?”
“You’re human, Mr Jerome, you’re frail and slow compared to us, but above all, your biggest weakness is that you can’t comprehend a race like ours could exist amongst you, feeding off your kind. It has been this way for centuries, we’ve existed almost like parasites at times. But things are changing, we are close to taking our rightful place in this world, right at the very top of the food chain. One day soon we will have the numbers and the infrastructure in place. We are going to take control, and we will farm your puny species just as you farm cattle. Soon, Mr Jerome, and when that time comes, the safest place for you to be is in my employment.”
I looked at her. Such beauty, poise and grace. How could she be so completely unbalanced as to believe the crap she was spouting. My mind couldn’t entertain such things, it was the stuff of bad drive-in b-movies. I let a smirk cross my features.
“No offense intended,” I said – mimicking her from earlier, “but I do believe that you are completely out of your pretty little, deluded mind, Miss Valance.”
And that was the moment, right there, when everything – my life, my outlook on the world, the whole lot, was changed forever.
In an instant Shelley Valance became a blur to my eyes. She had been stood across the room from me, a good ten or so strides away. Within a fraction of a second, impossibly quickly, she had crossed the room and was standing in front of me. Before I could react she grasped my throat with one of those dainty hands of hers and with unfeasible force she lifted me clean off my feet and slammed me violently into the wall.
Her grip tightened, I began to choke and gag. Then she moved her face just inches in front of mine – her features, that only moments ago had been beautiful and feminine, had become contorted and hideous, like some kind of demonic abomination, but worst of all, her eyes – they were wild with fury and glowing luminous green. And when she spoke, it was with a tone and timbre that shook me to my very soul.
“Twenty four hours, Mr Jerome!”
And with that, she opened her mouth to bare a pair of terrifying oversized fangs and made a guttural hissing sound - then she released me, turned around and vanished out through the open office window with a swiftness that defied believe.
I slumped to the floor, shaking from the pure shock of it all and gasping for breath.
CHAPTER 8
I was at a loss as to what to do. Rarely in my life had I found myself backed into such a corner.
The streets of the dirty city, while not being that safe at the best of times, suddenly seemed to me like a terrifying and deadly place to be. By day, they held threat in the way of danger from ordinary mortals, but now the nights filled me with a new dread generated by the knowledge that there were creatures out there that didn’t conform to the normal notions of reality.
I decided to see the night out in my office, planning to leave at the crack of dawn. I couldn’t risk staying any longer just in case Vitalli wasn’t keen on honouring Valance’s 24 hour window and sent some goons here to find me.
I tried to grab some sleep – in the absence of anything to lie down on besides the cold floor, I reclined in my office chair. Somehow I managed to drop off eventually – but rest was not forthcoming – because that’s when the nightmares first began.
It was always the eyes first of all. I’d be dreaming, though not aware that I was dreaming, then I’d notice the colour. The shade of green, it would start almost imperceptibly, clouds of faint smoke, the clouds taking on a tinge of emerald. Then it would become more intense, like someone was putting a green filter over everything. Generally at that point the whole background of my dreaming environment would suddenly turn pitch black, and out of the gloom, closing in from a distance, would be a terrifying pair of luminous green eyes. And as they got closer there came with them the low guttural sound, almost a hiss. And when the eyes were almost upon me, a glint of light and there were those terrible fangs. At that point I’d always awake with a start, out of breath – my heart pumping and sweat pouring down my face.
That night I tried to sleep twice. At around 3am, after suffering the nightmare for the second consecutive time I decided to dose myself with copious amounts of coffee to avoid the need for sleep altogether.
*
The Holy Church of Santa Justina was steeped in history. The city itself was founded on the patch of land that the modern day church stood – there had been a place of worship there for almost two centuries, beginning with a simple shelter that the early settlers could congregate within – ultimately leading to the imposing stone structure that now towered before me.
I was not, nor ever truly had been previously, a man of great faith, but I had gotten to know the local priest, Father Laurie McBride, pretty well from my time as a cop. I had attended a couple of his services at the behest of others, and as a part of my duties I had attended one or two funerals.
I don’t really know what brought me there that day – I guess when you see things that can’t be explained by rational means you actively seek out alternatives?
The church doors were wide open, almost welcoming. I checked my watch - it was just before 10.30am as I strode somewhat uncertainly inside.
Father McBride was stood casually in front of the alter, greeting the odd parishioner who presumably had dropped in for a quick prayer or two. He was a tall, heavily built man, now in his mid-fifties, a full head of silver-grey hair and very deep set features.
“Good morning, Father.”
“Why, Johnny Jerome, isn’t it? I haven’t seen your good self in a few years. What brings you here, my son?”
“I’m sorry to arrive out of the blue, Father. Could I possibly grab a word with you? In private, maybe?”
“Well of course, son, this way.”
For a horrible moment I thought he was going to take me to one of those confession booths, but obviously he knew me better than I thought, instead taking me to discreet corner of the church, free of other parishioners.
“Now, what’s on your mind, Johnny? You look deeply troubled.”
“It’s fair to say I’m a bit troubled, Father. I’ve had some business go a bit off the rails these last few days. But that’s not my problem.”
“Then do tell, please.”
“Well, this might sound really daft, but do you believe in demons?”
“Hypothetical or physical?” Not quite the response I was expecting. I guess that’s why I liked Father McBride – like me he was a sucker for detail.
“Well, physical – I think.”
“Have you been unwell at all, Johnny? Or hitting the drink a bit hard?”
“Father, I know what I’m asking is, well, irregular, but I can assure you I’ve not been unwell nor do I drink any more than the next man.”
“So, you’ve seen something you simply can’t explain, and that something is – shall we say, unpleasant in its nature?”
“You got that right.”
“There are lots of things that can’t easily be explained. I’m a priest, my job is all about trying to teach people of things that can’t rationally be explained by science or other orthodox means. Do you believe in angels, Johnny?”
“What? Angels, Father – I don’t know-.”
“I believe in angels,” he inte
rjected, “I know I’m supposed to, it goes with the territory I guess, but trust me – I do believe in them. Now, the concept of angels – from the point of view of a scientific, rational mind, is completely ridiculous – I mean the more you think about them the more ludicrous they seem, right?”
“Uh...”
“It’s okay, I’ll take your hesitation as kind of agreement. Anyway, so I believe in Angels, 100%, right? And if I believe in angels then, by definition, I surely have to believe in demons too, right?”
“I guess.”
“Right! So, if you’re being plagued by demons, I guess you’d better hope that you’ve got an angel looking out for you?”
“Have I?”
“No idea, Son. You’ll truly not know the answer to that until you next run into this demon of yours again. But if it’s any help, I pray to God that you have.”
I didn’t expect Father McBride to have any real answers for me, but it was nice of him to not tell me that I was crazy – and in some small way, it have me some reassurance for what lay before me.
*
*
Once back on the streets I started feeling vulnerable again. I was pretty inconspicuous at the best of times, it comes with the territory – you’ll never successfully follow someone secretly if you can’t blend into the background, but while this might work for me for a little while I knew that with the sheer volume of folks after me it was only a matter of time until I was found.
I’d opted to go on foot, figuring that there would almost certainly be eyes on my car. It was a warm day, the kind of day a guy might like to take off his coat and carry it under his arm to let himself cool off. I could afford no such luxury so I sweated and sweltered in the heat with coat done up, my collars turned up and my hat firmly planted on my head and tilted down almost obscuring my eyes.
I’d carefully considered my next move. Valance hadn’t given me much room for manoeuvre. There was no way in hell I was going to work for her and her kind – that would be like striking a deal with the devil himself. I dare say the pay and perks would have been good, but I’d be selling out my own species, for Christ’s sake. And if Valance got it all her own way and the vampires did manage to take over, how long would I be useful for? I was willing to wager that I’d be living on borrowed time, and as soon as I was no longer considered usual then she wouldn’t think twice about putting me on ice. Or worse than that, winding up on one of her ‘blood farms.’
She obviously valued my services as a potential employee enough to even bother making the offer, after all - she could quite easily have murdered me right there in my own office. I figured she gave me the twenty four hours because she was totally convinced there was nowhere in the city I could hide out at or could try and make a break for it and jump the city altogether.
I decided to test the theory, so I stopped at the next public phone I came to. Cautiously, keeping an eye out all around, I dialled a number that very few people in the city knew about. I was calling just about the only place that could be classed as neutral territory. I was calling the Speakeasy.
After five rings the phone was picked up and a familiar voice answered.
“Y’ello?”
“Mack. This is Johnny. Johnny Jerome.”
“Oh. Hi Johnny.”
“Listen, you might have heard, I got a bit of a situation happenin’ here.”
“Yeah,” I heard Mack give a definite sigh, like he knew what was coming. “I’ve heard about it.”
“I see news travels fast. Anyway, I was wondering if, what with the Speakeasy being neutral and all-.”
“I’m sorry Johnny, no can do.”
“Hey, Mack, what gives here? We go back a fair way, don’t we?”
“We do, Johnny.”
“But?” I knew there would be a ‘but’ in there somewhere.
“But, this ain’t the old days no more, Johnny, times have changed. There is one defacto mob in Santa Justina these days – one mob, with one boss.”
“Vitalli?”
“Right. And what he says goes, you understand? He says you don’t come in here. He says this place ain’t neutral as far as you’re concerned.”
“And what about you, Mack, what do you say?”
“I say, Gianni Vitalli has put a price on your head so big that every two bit creep and hood in the city will be queuing up to put a cap in your ass – no matter where the hell you are. And it’s not just the hoods, it’s the cops too – all the dirty ones at least, so pretty much most of ‘em. You got no allies, Johnny, I don’t know what you got yourself into, but you’ve pissed Vitalli good and proper and from where I’m standing, you’re in some pretty deep shit.”
“So that’s the way it is, huh?”
“I’m afraid so, Johnny. If you want my advice, do what you can to get the hell out of the city. Rent an unmarked car in a false name, wear a disguise and put as many miles between you and this place as you can, ‘cos if you stay here – well, you’re basically a dead man.”
I thanked Mack for his advice and got off the phone. Things were bad. It seemed in the daylight at least that Vitalli wouldn’t honour Valance’s offer, he’d have hoods all over the city looking for me, and cops checking every exit out of the city too. I could probably give them both the slip easily enough, after all – this was just as much my home turf as it was theirs – but come sundown, well, that was a different matter. A whole different kind of individual would be stalking me then, and I had nowhere to hide.
*
The remainder of the day was one of frustration and desperation. I did give Mack’s advice a go, but it seemed that luck had completely deserted me. I tried three different car lots to see if I could anonymously rent a vehicle to escape the city in. The first had nothing available, the other two were quite blatantly under surveillance by hoods – it appeared that Vitalli was onto this tactic and figured I might show up at some point. There were no other car rental places within walking distance of my location, I was stuck in the city.
The evening was closing in, and I truly did not have a plan how to deal with it. I took on an almost resigned air as I tramped the streets. While still trying to look anonymous, I decided that my best chance of not being attacked by a vampire would be in very public areas in plain sight.
As the sky became dark and the city took on its neon tinged night look, it seemed to become all the more menacing. I was still playing on home turf, but the city itself seemed out to get be now as well.
Being stalked by vampires is an incredibly unsettling situation – mostly because you never are truly sure if they’re there or not. That shadow out of the corner of your eye, well – it could simply be a shadow of something totally innocuous, and it’s just a paranoid mind creating threatening illusions. But when you think you detect similar shadows almost around every corner you turn down, frankly it’s terrifying.
It took about an hour after darkness fell for it to become completely conclusive that a vampire was tailing me. I’d stuck to my plain sight strategy, but all the while I felt the tension rising.
Then, all it took was a moment. One single moment when there just happened to be no-one within a hundred yards of me. I was positioned on the sidewalk of a main road, well illuminated, I detected a blur of movement to my right then found myself being bundled with extreme force, off the sidewalk and into the looming shadows of an alleyway.
In a split second I had been thrust to the very end of the alley, right to the darkest corner, totally beyond the sight and certainly the help of anyone who might be wondering past on the main road.
At that point I was finally permitted a glimpse of my assailant – he was tall – around six feet, but built fairly averagely. Had he been human I’d have backed myself to have been able to kick his ass from one end of the alley to the other, but I caught sight of the now familiar green glow emanating from his eyes - I knew this guy was no average Joe. As if to demonstrate that very point he ‘flickered’ again right in front of me, and at incredible spee
d, delivered a sharp punch to my stomach and followed it up with an equally unstoppable forearm smash to the side of my face. I was on the ground in a heap before my body could even fully comprehend how much both those events actually hurt. It’s fair to say that they hurt a hell of a lot.
“So, you’re the schmuck that put a couple of Vitalli’s clowns in the hospital, eh?”
I couldn’t reply, all the wind had been knocked out of me.
“Well, Mr Jerome – my name is McLane, and firstly, I’m going to make you wish you were dead,” he paused and gave an evil grin, revealing a glint of the fangs, “and then I am actually going to kill you.”
“Valance - she offered me a deal!” I just about managed to blurt out through gritted teeth.
Another blow, I think it might have been a boot to the ribs, flipped me over and left me spread-eagled on my back.
“All deals are off, Mr Jerome, and frankly – I think Mistress Valance must have had a momentary lapse in reason to have offered you anything. It would appear she has come to her senses – she was very clear about what was to happen to you when I spoke to her.”
The jumped up punk was really starting to annoy me now, I figured if I was going to die I’d at least go out fighting – and having satisfied my curiosity as to what happens if you try and shoot a vampire. I produced my gun and aimed it in the direction of McLane – or rather, in the direction of where McLane had been just mere moments before. A blurred hand fizzed past my face from behind me and with the greatest of finesse, plucked the gun from fingers. I tried to turn and rise – only to briefly witness McLane towering over me and a quick silver-tinged flash as the bastard pistol whipped me with the handle of my own god damned gun. I hit the floor yet again.
“Pathetic, Mr Jerome, you got anything else?”
Now he circled me, he was the kind of sadistic bastard that got off on this kind of shit, but even he must be getting a bit bored of this now. I was certain that the end must be near.
