by Cooley, Mike
Tommy eased the truck onto Lake Drive and followed the stranger. “You said his name is Bryn?”
“Yeah, Bryn. I don’t remember what Celeste said his last name was. Doesn’t matter. I shall refer to him as ‘dickhead.’” Jason chuckled. “Don’t get too close.”
Tommy kept his speed low and pulled over to the side of the road when he was within a block of Bryn. He turned off the ignition, pocketed his keys, and grabbed his beer. “Should we follow on foot? It looks like he’s headed for the lake.”
“Yeah, good idea.” Jason opened his door and hopped out, then waited for Tommy to join him. “Where is Debra tonight?”
“I told her I had ‘man stuff’ to do. Which means she thinks I’m playing poker, watching football, or at the stripper bar in Corwin. Her mom is making dinner, and they are staying home. What about Celeste?”
“Haven’t seen her. I’ve been hanging with Suze at Brinkman’s Pub down in Corwin. She’s not really my type, but she’s nice to look at.”
“Big titties,” said Tommy, raising his beer and clinking it against Jason’s.
“Hell, yeah.”
They kept their distance, walking along the sidewalk behind Bryn. He never turned around. He was a couple of blocks away and still heading east toward the lake. It was nearing midnight and the sky was clear. Stars twinkled against the blackness and the smell of the water grew stronger.
“Where do you think he’s going?” Tommy asked.
“He has to be staying somewhere in town. I imagine he’s going there.”
“Do you think he’s dangerous?”
“Debra said he has ‘powers,’ but she wouldn’t tell me what kind.” Jason laughed. “Powers!”
“I don’t believe in that shit.” Tommy finished his beer, looked around for witnesses, and then tossed the bottle into a shrub. He wiped his hands on his jeans to dry the condensation off them.
“Speed up, he’s almost at the lake. I don’t want to lose sight of him.” Jason increased his pace, and Tommy matched him.
“What. The. Fuck.” Jason slowed and ducked behind a tree near the edge of the water.
“He’s walking into the lake,” said Tommy. “Into the fucking lake!”
“I know, man. I know. Keep it down.” Jason’s eyes got big as he peered around the tree and watched Bryn walk deeper and deeper into the water until the waves closed over his head.
Jason walked over to the edge of the lake, and watched the ripples dissipate until the water was smooth. Tommy stood next to him with his mouth hanging open.
Chapter 12
The streak of light grew closer and brighter. An ominous roar filled the air. Bryn was running as he always did. Celeste stood in the forest, holding her breath, reaching for him. She couldn’t feel the ground beneath her feet. The trees towered over her. Bryn’s eyes were wide with fright.
And then the dream changed.
The forest shimmered and vanished. A bleak industrial complex appeared, covered with a plume of smoke. The air smelled of burned bodies. Out of a cloud of smoke, a man appeared. He was shirtless; his pants were ripped and bloodied. His chest had large gouges torn into it, blood was running from his eyes and his hair was burned off . He was muscular, and his hands were clenched at his sides. There were burns all over his skin.
“Who are you? Where is Bryn?” Celeste asked.
The man blinked and stopped, unclenching his teeth. His piercing gaze searched and found her. He squinted. “Are you a ghost? Am I dead? My name is Simon. There’s been an explosion. Many are dead. Birds dropped from the sky. The ground is radioactive.”
He was speaking English but his accent was strange—Russian or Czechoslovakian, thought Celeste.
“I am a ghost. What year is this?” Celeste held her arms out. They were transparent like the rest of her body. She floated above the ground, casting no shadow. But she could smell death, and she could hear Simon’s voice.
“Why would a ghost care? It’s 1986, of course.” Simon wiped the blood away from his eyes. The wounds on his chest were closing over and the burns were fading. “What is your name?”
“I’m Celeste. What have you done with Bryn?”
“I know of no one named Bryn. Where are you?”
Celeste backed up. “I shouldn’t say.”
“Take my hand.” Simon’s brown eyes sparkled with madness. He reached for her.
She took another step back.
He grabbed her hand and she gasped. She struggled to pull free and then realized she was in her bed at home, thrashing in her sheets. Simon was gone. Her heart raced. Only the adrenaline of the dream remained, and the smell of death.
Chapter 13
Celeste peered through the window to see who was knocking, then unlocked and opened her front door. “Come on in, Deb. I thought we were going to meet at Perky’s?”
“I got up a little early, and I wanted to talk to you about something I didn’t want anyone to overhear.” Debra sat at the small table in the kitchen. Celeste grabbed two coffee cups, filled them from her four-cup carafe, then pulled up a chair and sat across from her. She poured cream in hers from a small silver cup and then handed the cream to Debra. “What is it?”
“Well, it’s about Tommy and Jason.”
“They do something again? Get arrested? Public indecency?”
“Nothing like that. They were out drinking in Tommy’s truck last night, and they followed him.” Debra poured cream in her coffee, then stirred it with a metal spoon.
“Followed who?”
“Bryn.”
Celeste clutched Debra’s hand. “Oh, no. Did he hurt them?”
“No. They kept their distance. They don’t think he saw them.”
“Then what happened?”
“Tommy said he walked into the lake.”
“Into the lake?”
“Jason and Tommy hid behind a tree and saw him. They were drinking, but Tommy swears they didn’t imagine it.” Debra sipped coffee and leaned back in her chair. She was dressed in a red blouse and black skirt. Celeste called it her ‘hot librarian look’ since Debra worked in Corwin four days a week at the library.
“What, exactly, did he say happened?” Celeste’s eyes were wide as she leaned forward.
“He said Bryn walked straight into the lake and just kept going until the water closed over his head. They stood at the edge for twenty minutes, waiting. He never came up.”
“Wow.” Celeste leaned back and exhaled slowly. “Bryn is undead—or something. I don’t think he has to breathe. And he has no pulse. But he’s warm. And he’s gentle.”
“Don’t you think it’s strange?” Debra asked.
“Everything about him is strange,” said Celeste. “Thanks for telling me.”
“Anytime, Celeste. I worry about you. It was bad enough when you were dating Jason, with his racist relatives and all. But now, I don’t even understand what your boyfriend is.”
“He’s just a man who got hit by a meteor in 1813… and survived.”
“Are you listening to yourself?” Debra laughed. “How is that even possible?”
“He cares for me, Debra. I can tell. And, well, he has no relatives.” Celeste smiled.
“That’s a plus.” Debra pushed her chair back and stood up. “Damn relatives are a major pain in the buttocks.”
“See you at Perky’s later?” Celeste asked.
“Maybe. I have to work this afternoon, and Tommy has one hell of a hangover, so he needs a little TLC.” Debra blushed.
“Sex and Tylenol?”
“What better cure is there?”
Chapter 14
Bryn emerged from the lake dripping wet. The sun had set twenty minutes earlier, and Celeste was standing at the edge, waiting. He was wearing a blue, button-down shirt and black jeans. His clothes dried in moments as his skin drank in the water. His eyes scanned from left to right and stopped on Celeste. She was wearing a white chiffon dress and black pumps. Around her neck was a jade necklace that matched her
eyes. It had been her mother’s.
“I have something important to tell you.” Celeste took Bryn’s hands in hers and pressed against him.
“What is it, my love?” Bryn slid his hands down to her waist and held her. He looked into her eyes like he had known her forever.
“You know how you said you were the only one? The only latent?”
“Yes. I’ve never met another. And the odds are against it. You must have the gene, and then you must die horribly. I haven’t managed to make a test for the gene yet. I’ve studied genetics but I can’t fit a genetic lab into my van. I’m certain the gene is rare.”
“There is another. I’ve seen him in my dreams. His name is Simon, and he walked out of the Chernobyl disaster in ’86 without a scratch.”
“Simon? What are the dreams telling you?” Concern replaced the calm on Bryn’s face.
“He saw me, Bryn. And he’s coming.” Celeste’s eyes showed fear.
Bryn wrapped his arms around her and held her tight. “Don’t worry. Everything is going to be all right.”
“I hardly think so,” said Jason. He was standing a few feet away, his hands loose at his sides. His tank top was greasy and his expression was defiant.
“What are you doing here?” Celeste turned.
“I came to see what kind of man—if he is a man—took my girl away from me.” Jason’s words were slurred, and he stumbled as he approached. Celeste could smell whiskey on his breath.
“My name is Bryn. And I didn’t take her away.”
“That’s right, Jason. You know we weren’t right for each other.” She stepped in front of Bryn and stretched her arms out to keep him back.
“I’ll fight you for her,” said Jason, ignoring her words.
Bryn took a step to the left and then one toward Jason. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“That settles it, then!” Jason lunged at Bryn with a wild, right-handed swing, missing by a mile. Bryn stood his ground. Jason swung with his left and connected with Bryn’s ribs, which was like punching a brick wall. He yelped in pain and looked at his hand suspiciously.
“You should leave now, Jason. Bryn is immortal. What damage can you possibly do?” Celeste pointed toward town.
Jason pulled a knife from his black leather boot and shoved it at Bryn’s chest. Celeste gasped. The blade ripped a hole in Bryn’s shirt and broke off on his skin, leaving Jason holding the handle.
Bryn grabbed Jason by the arm and tossed him toward the lake. Jason yelled obscenities as he arced through the night sky and landed with a huge splash forty feet from shore.
“He can swim, can’t he?” Bryn asked. A smile played across his lips.
“Yes,” said Celeste. “Let’s go.”
“Tell me more about Simon,” said Bryn. He took Celeste’s hand in his and led her north.
Behind them, Jason thrashed and screamed, working his way to shore. His fingers were bruised from punching Bryn, and he was angry. He dropped the handle of the broken hunting knife and kicked with his legs, trying to calm down. The water was warm, but his clothes were soaked and heavy. He turned over onto his back and floated, gasping for air. “Undead motherfucker!”
Chapter 15
“So you’re officially dating a dead guy from 1813?” Debra asked.
“That depends on your definition of dead,” said Celeste.
“Not breathing?”
“Check.”
“No pulse?” Debra opened her bottle of milk.
“Check.” Celeste smiled.
“Can’t do it?”
“Negatory.”
“Wait a minute. You’re ‘doing it’ with a dead guy?”
“Can we stop with the ‘dead guy’ talk? He’s a latent. I would explain, but that would take too long, so just think of him as a vampire that doesn’t need blood.”
“What kind of vampire doesn’t like blood?” asked Debra.
“Oh, he likes it. He just doesn’t need it to survive. He absorbs water… or something. He’s pretty secretive, but I think he has powers.”
“Mmm, powers. I like the sound of that,” Debra took a sip of milk.
“Here’s a pic I took of him by the lake.” Celeste handed her phone to Debra.
“He sure is buff for a dead guy.” Debra whistled. “Is his cock as hard as his abs?”
“Bad girl!” Celeste grabbed her phone back and jammed it in the pocket of her jeans.
Debra laughed and took a bite of her chicken salad. They were sitting in the park across from the library in Corwin, eating lunch together while Debra was on break. Celeste was sipping lemonade and eating yogurt. The park had a small fountain that attracted birds and wooden tables to sit at.
“What time do you have to be back?” Celeste asked.
“I’m supposed to be back by one, but a few minutes here or there won’t get me fired. They need a redhead if they want any guys to come in ‘looking for books.’”
“You’re supposed to be offended when they leer at you.” Celeste finished her yogurt and looked at her watch.
“Every girl needs a little leer now and then,” said Debra. “I’ll just dick punch them if they get fresh.” She finished her salad, closed the plastic lid, and then packed it back into her lunch cooler. “How is Jason handling all this?”
“Bad. He tried to stab Bryn last night.”
“Fuck! What happened?”
“The blade broke off on Bryn’s skin, then he threw Jason in the lake.”
“Damn.”
“Seriously.”
“Well, I better get back in there and try to educate the unwashed masses.” Debra stood up and brushed the crumbs off her skirt.
“You should really wear glasses,” said Celeste. “Hot librarians wear glasses.”
“Off with you,” Debra said, making shooing motions with her hands. “I don’t take advice from girls without the common sense to date the living.”
Celeste laughed and embraced Debra. “Don’t work too hard, hon. See you soon.”
Chapter 16
Bryn pulled Celeste’s chair out from the dining room table and gestured for her to sit. “Please.”
The table was made of walnut and had six chairs around it. It was rare that more than two or three people came over for dinner anymore, but Celeste didn’t have the heart to put any of the chairs away. They reminded her of the good times, before her mom had died. Above the table was a brass chandelier with crystals hanging from it on silver chains. It was an antique, like many of the furnishings in her mom’s house. The kitchen was behind Celeste through an archway, and the living room was behind Bryn. The walls of the dining room were adorned with family pictures.
Bryn sat down in the chair opposite Celeste. “What is this?” He gestured toward a half-full, fluted glass near his plate.
Celeste smiled. “It’s my blood. You said you found human blood… intoxicating.”
“Well, I didn’t mean you should cut yourself.” Bryn frowned and looked at her for signs of injury.
“It’s a gift. Try it.” Celeste rubbed the Band-Aid on her left arm. “And I made lasagna. A very small portion for you, so you can get the flavor. And a larger portion for me. Because I’m not dead.”
“That’s very thoughtful of you, Celeste.” Bryn met her green eyes and lifted the glass to his lips, taking a sip. He savored it while keeping his eyes on hers.
“What do you think?” Celeste blushed. She hadn’t thought the sight of Bryn drinking her blood would have such an effect on her. Her temperature was rising. His eyes were deep like pools of dark water. She felt drawn to him. She imagined his lips on her body.
Bryn’s face lit up. “You are the most exquisite thing I have ever tasted, Celeste. Complex. Beautiful. Nirvana.” He took another sip, then set the glass down and sampled a small bite of lasagna. He wiped his lips with a napkin and smiled.
“I’ve grown fond of you over the years, Bryn. Seeing you in my dreams. Wondering if you were real or just my imagination. You’v
e been with me for so long.” Celeste looked down, blushed, and then looked back at him.
“And I you. You are the angel that appears before me when I’m in trouble. The first angel I ever saw. A vision coming to me out of nowhere.” Bryn reached out a hand, and the glass of blood slid across the table into it. He raised it in a toast, and then bowed his head in respect.
“Out of the future,” corrected Celeste. “But then you had no way of knowing that.”
“Yes.”
Celeste ate lasagna and drank Pinot Noir. One of the many things her mom had left her was a full wine cellar, and she was still working her way through it, saving the bottles for special occasions.
“Do you still drink wine?”
“Sometimes,” said Bryn. “It doesn’t have the same effect on me that it does on humans.”
“So you can’t get drunk?”
“I’m getting drunk right now.” Bryn’s lips parted. “On you.”
“I find you very interesting,” Celeste’s eyes twinkled.
“And I find you very desirable.”
Celeste blushed. “Is my blood having an effect on you?”
“Your blood, your body, your eyes, your lips. Come sit on my lap, kiss me, and find out.” He laughed, set down the glass, and slid back in his chair.
“You’re bad.” Celeste licked her lips. Desire raced up and down her body. She pushed her chair back, stood, and headed toward him.
Chapter 17
Jason sat next to Suze in a booth against the back wall in Brinkman’s. Tommy was sitting across from them. They had glasses of beer, and a pitcher of Miller Genuine Draft sat in the middle of the table. Unlike their usual haunt—Rock and Bowl in Lanston—Brinkman’s wasn’t a bowling alley and pretended to have a little class. But the class was about as thick as the dust on the windows.
Corwin was bigger than Lanston, but not by much. It was large enough to have a police station, a library, two churches, and four bars. Unlike Lanston, Corwin had no lake, but the Willow River ran along the western edge of town. It was logging and mining country, although the mines had been abandoned years ago. The town relied on tourism to survive. Every gas station sold bait, and there were antique shops that sold everything from decorative wagon wheels to ceramic mugs. The restaurants had fish fries on Friday nights, and the bars had pull tabs and meat raffles.
