by J. X. Evans
“No doubt it is…” the man proclaimed in a mildly amused manner as he walked around the bar and towards Zora, extending the open palm of his right hand “The name is Pericles, you can call me Perry if you prefer it…and to tell you the truth I prefer it myself.” He said with a genuine smile on his face.
Zora stared at him for barely a second before giving him her own open hand to clasp “Zora” she proclaimed in a matter of fact way. She now saw his eyes better under the light of a dim lamp. He wore a pair of dark brown contact lenses and he had the densest eyelashes she had ever seen in a man.
“Beautiful name, can I offer you something to drink or eat maybe?” he asked, prompting her to seat on a tall stool by the bar. “I make a killer omelette with cheese, spinach, turkey and mushrooms. Put it between two pieces of grilled bread with my secret yogurt sauce…yum! I was about to grab a bite myself actually.”
“No, I think not.” answered Zora, even though she was kind of hungry and she loved all those things put together or separately, she wanted more to be done with this farce of a task which was so beneath her capabilities and her training and her mood. “I think it would be better if I did not delay or stray from the mission.” She said rising an open palm to put a stop to his attempts at providing hospitality.
“Are you sure? You must be tired after the trip and you still have road ahead of you. I don’t think anyone would give you trouble for it. You can always say there was traffic or some other kind of delay.” Perry said, his smile wavering only the tiniest bit by the flat refusal of his friendly gesture of hospitality. “Would you prefer something else maybe? I have a couple of pieces of apple pie left over and well, coffee obviously.”
Zora just stared at him blankly for a second or two, the noise of cars and people from outside being the only sounds wavering around the empty room.
Perry loosened his tie a bit and he let the matter drop. He cleared his throat in a mild manner “Ahem, very well then, follow me if you please.” he said moving towards a set of stairs leading to the basement.
Zora made to follow the man. At least it would be over soon, and then she could make a plan for her future as a Knight of the Order, she did have some way to go, just like the man said.
8. TAXI RIDE
Rob was waiting, just sitting in his chair at the hospital’s cafeteria. Half-looking at the entrance, marking who came and who went, checking faces, and half-looking at his phone screen, where he was playing Pokemon yellow on a Gameboy emulator. A little more than two hours had passed and he had started getting bored about one and a half hours earlier; one can face off against only so many Zubats in his life before he starts losing his mind after all… Monsters sharing the world with the humans and we want to capture and use them to fight one another… Good one.
A man walked in through the door like so many others had earlier today. He seemed a bit out of place for some reason, maybe a bit anxious? But many people feel like that in hospitals. But he, unlike the others, walked towards the direction of the morgue, Rob had noticed that generally people do not visit the morgue often.
He was more or less an average person, medium height, around forty years old with sparse dark-gray hair and a little chubby. He was dressed in a puffy blue and white coat and jeans. Rob got excited on the thought he would finally do something other than wait. Well…excited is a strong word. He blinked his boredom away and turned the game off after hitting the save button. No more than five minutes passed and the same man came up the stairs with a medium sized cooler on one hand. Fully loaded too judging by the way the man walked, leaning to the opposite side to counterbalance the weight of the box.
Rob got up, gathered his gym bag from the floor and followed the man out of the hospital. The man walked over to a small green Citroen, parked in the hospital’s parking lot and by the time Rob passed him by, the man was already opening the trunk of the car, placing the cooler in it and rearranging some other stuff and bags. Rob got out of the man’s line of sight and half ran and half sprinted towards a stopped taxi on the far corner of the road outside the hospital’s main gate. The fat taxi driver stood watching him, leaning against the open driver’s door and smoking a cigarette. The driver got that Rob was heading towards him and got in the car. Rob reached the taxi, opened the back door and sat in the comfortable back seat of the yellow Mercedes. The whole car ricked of years of cigarette smoke seeped into the old fabric of the seats and tapestry; and the little green Christmas tree shaped car fresheners, hanging from the rear view mirror did little to mask the heavy odor from Rob’s delicate sense of smell. He had been through much, much worse though.
“Why the hurry pal?” the driver asked, one hand out of the open window holding, the light cigarette despite the cold air and the light rain that had just started to fall.
“Start and I’ll tell you on the way. Make a left here.” Rob said marking his target’s car in a line of vehicles stopped at a red light.
“So where are we going?” the driver asked before long in his gruff voice.
“I will be telling you were to turn on the way. If that is alright with you.” Rob said eyes constantly on the green Citroen, while making himself comfortable in the luxurious car’s seat.
“It kind of isn’t…are we following someone?” the driver asked, glaring at Rob from the rear view mirror, obviously kind of understanding what was going on. “Whoops, it looks like we are not going to make that traffic light in time.” He said in a ridiculous, theatrical voice, slowing the car way down.
“Ok yes we are, drive faster. It’s the green Citroen over there, three cars ahead of us.” Rob said, somewhat annoyed.
The taxi driver took a long drag, smiling around his cigarette and on the exhale he said, “I was not born yesterday you know. You can’t fool me and I do have certain ethics and values. I am not really comfortable with the whole deal.”
“I assure you, I have no ill intensions in mind.” Rob said, picking a nail on his right hand
“Of course, of course. No one does. Big guys like you usually have violets in their hearts… Look, I am a bit torn here and I am thinking… if you want me to keep up with him, it is going to cost you. It’s for the shake of my morality.”
“Alright, just don’t lose him.” Rob said, trying to hide his anger and frustration, thinking of the children… and his truck… ‘Stupid, fucking cow.’
“So anyway. What did the guy do to you?” The driver asked, content with himself and certain of his morality’s sanctity.
“Nothing, it’s all good. I just want to make sure that he is not getting himself into any trouble. That’s all.”
“He is a friend then?”
“Kind of…” Rob said, scratching his beard.
The driver turned to look at Rob and whispered in a hushed, serious conspiratorial way, “Is he fucking your wife?”
Rob sighed, ‘Ah, why couldn’t I just say that he is a friend?’ “Yes, you got me. I think he is fucking my wife. I am not certain yet…but I am going to find out after I have a little talk with him. Just that. No need to worry about your morals.”…the non-existent ones apparently.
“Ha, tough luck buddy you can’t trust fucking women at all these days, they have no morals. Fucking sluts, one and all. That’s why I divorced mine. Now I’m good.” The driver said loudly in his gruff voice, making angry gestures with his right hand throughout the sentence to emphasize his point. “I mean, they were sluts back then too, but now they knew their fucking place at least…this is what we get for going soft as a species.”
The guy was getting on Rob’s nerves at a ridiculous rate and he was really considering doing the world a favor and giving the guy a lesson in life... But he needed to find out were that cooler was going. It could potentially be important. “Yeah…” Rob answered under his breath, his eyes on the green Citroen. “Yeah, I get you.”
“Like I said though pal. I hate to take a hurt soul’s money but as I said I wasn’t born yesterday. I am a church going man and I have some c
ertain policies. And as I do not know where this guy is going and when he is going to stop I’ll take my money now. Two hundred euros, pay up.” The driver said bringing his hand behind the head of his chair, open palm facing up, creating a nice plateau for the money. “Unless you want me to park the car and you will have to get lover-boy another way.”
“Are you crazy? I am not carrying two hundred euros on me!” Rob said, yet again not believing the words coming out of the man’s mouth.
“How much do you have then?” the driver asked in a displeased tone through clenched teeth.
“Much less.”
“Take your wallet out and count it. Or this is as far as I go.”
At that moment the green Citroen made a stop outside a Chinese restaurant, and the man from the hospital came out of the car and started walking towards the restaurant.
The cab fare meter indicated fourteen euros and change. The numbers on the machine were running faster than Sonic the Hedgehog and seemed hungry for shiny gold coins. Even more so than the greedy blue speedster himself. So Rob tossed a ten euro note at the rude driver and got out of the car, even though the actual fare should have been somewhat less than that.
And Rob was heading for the restaurant through the light drizzle before the despicable driver even had a chance to say anything.
“Fucking extortionist. My clothes will smell like I just came out of a forest fire... Stupid idiot.” Rob was mumbling under his breath in slowly evaporating anger, even as he was trying to locate the man from the hospital among the sparse customers in the restaurant. Rob turned around and through the window he saw another, different man getting into the green Citroen and driving away…a man that had gotten out of the restaurant when he had opened the door to get in. And all that he noticed of him was that he was wearing a blue baseball cap. The other man had stopped here so that another driver could take the car… “God dammit” Rob half-shouted, clenching his fists in rekindled frustration. He looked behind his right shoulder once again to see the man from the hospital emerging from the bathroom door and running into the kitchen. He had probably seen Rob’s little display of negativity and realized he was being followed. Well he might have even noticed him from the hospital. A 2.1 meters tall man with chest the size of a small closet and a full beard, wearing a leather duster is not exactly the definition of inconspicuous.
Rob charged after him, the cooks gasping in surprise and moving out of the way as the man ran through their meager ranks, out through the unlocked back door. And then again as the far larger Rob rushed in after him, tossing a pan full of hot oil to the floor with his hip. All of the surprised cooks jumping out of the way and one of them even climbing up on top of the counter, squashing some of the sticky rice balls he was preparing with his buttocks. The man was running faster than expected for a guy his age and built, but then again anyone can surprise even themselves when adrenaline kicks in. And Rob was a very adrenaline inspiring man for sure.
The backdoor led them to a narrow little alley and the man was running head over heels towards the main street, maybe sixty meters away. Rob grabbed his gym bag from his shoulder and tossed it underhand, aiming for the gasping man’s legs. The bag hit his left leg midstride, right behind the knee. And he greeted the pavement up close and personal with his face and a yell of surprised pain. He tried getting up, running on all fours for a moment, falling back down again and then he started calling for help, but Rob was already on him. Rob closed the terrified man’s mouth with a big, heavy hand and hauled him up by the back of his jacket. Only a little more strongly than a mama cat might haul her baby kitten, but by the way the man was acting one might have thought that someone was gutting a pig.
“Keep calm and stay quiet.” Rob whispered into his ear. The man ignored him and Rob banged him lightly against the wall, turning him over and grabbing him by the front of his jacket. That caused the man to quiet down a bit. “And now talk.” Rob growled in his face.
“Wha-, what do you want me to say? Who are you? Why are you chasing me?” the man asked in a panicky voice. Hyperventilating and covering his face with his hands, in a futile and unnecessary attempt to protect himself from potential blows.
“HELP” the man yelled towards the restaurant employees that stood staring through the small door… they ignored him. No doubt they had already contacted the police, which meant that Rob had not much time before they reached the site of the ‘crime’. A single minute could have been enough to get the information, if he wanted it to be, but he thought it best to play it safe and calm, like always.
“Walk with me. Stay calm and don’t try anything funny.” Rob told the poor man as he led him down the alley, picking up his bag on the way, to find some place a little less crowded for their talk. Half pushing the man and half guiding him. After walking a couple of blocks, Rob led the whimpering man down another alley, behind a couple of big plastic dumpsters under the shadow of an old house and its perilous looking, close to crumbling, old balcony. He bid him stand there where the persistent yet light rain drops could not reach them.
“Please don’t hurt me.” the man said, sliding down the wall and finally leaning against it, knees tucked tight all the way to his chest.
“I don’t want to hurt you. You will just give me a little help, that’s all. I will let you go and we will probably never see each other’s face again…What is your name?” Rob asked in a calming tone, bending his knees and lowering himself so that their eyes were at a level to one another.
“George.” He breathed out in a little bit calmer tone.
“Ok, George. I want you to tell me, what was inside that cooler you had in the trunk of your car, and where it was you were taking it.” Rob said, still in a calming voice and George was visibly starting to relax a little bit, breathing in a more regular and light pattern.
“Heh, d-drinks for a party, I stopped by the Chinese restaurant to get some dumplings.” George said, giving Rob a trembling smile.
“Drinks…what kind of drinks would you pick up from a hospital? The human body has only so many storable fluids and none of them seem very appetizing for a party. But then again it might just be me.” Rob said, lifting an eyebrow. George swallowed audibly.
“It’s ok, I know. Say it.”
“Blood?”
“That’s right George, it was blood. And where is this blood taken to?”
“Look I don’t know, I swear I was asked to bring it here and then I gave the car to another guy, that’s all I was meant to do.”
“Hmm, so no dumplings. I will let this one pass since it amused me. Just this once though.” Rob was not completely certain about him not knowing where the cooler was supposed to be taken to, but it was good to get him talking. Start with the easy way. Get what you can the easy way and worry later about the hard way. ”Who put you up to the task?”
“I don’t know.” George declared with every ounce of sincerity he could master. Then Rob gave him his hard stare and George’s façade turned to runny jelly.
“Look, I can’t say man, they will kill me if I do.” And Rob punched a hole through the plastic dumpster to his right, shouting “WHO?” Spit spewing all over George’s frightened face, a couple of smelly trash bags rolling out of the hole on the side of the dumpster, along with a generous portion of the watery slime the garbage and the rain water had created in there loving embrace in the bottom of their love bed that was the dumpster’s bottom.
“So-, some guy named Du-Duncan or something showed up one night and told us to he-help him and he would reward us.” George half screamed turning his face to the opposite direction, lifting his hands to protect his face from blows that never came once again.
“When did he show up, what did he look like? SPEAK DAMMIT!” Rob pressed the man.
“About three months ago. A black guy, dressed fancy, completely bold.” George responded at once, looking from the corner of his eye to the dumpster and the foul smelling slime that had spread to partly cover his pants. Probably afraid of hi
s head being the next target of Rob’s fist and not wanting it to end up looking like the poor dumpster.
Rob calmed himself down a bit, he had a name and he had a description. And he believed him. “He is a vampire right? What is the reward he promised you?” Rob had an idea but he didn’t want to even think about it.
“If you know about them then you should know they are amazingly powerful, you should let me go. It is not worth it man, I will say nothing of you.” George said, suddenly feeling a little safer apparently…for some reason.
“I asked you a question.” Rob growled, his eyebrows shaping the Nike logo, and George seemed to lose the new found and completely nominal feeling of safety he picked up just half a moment ago.
“He said we could be like him if we wanted to, just do some work for him first. That’s it.”
It was just as Rob had feared, it did not take much imagination to figure it out though. It is prohibited for vampires to create other vampires, prohibited by the laws of the accords. Vampires can live forever (at least no one in known history had ever died from natural causes) and the turning process is extremely deadly according to the bestiaries that the Order has created over the years. So the reward was either an extremely high chance of dying (if not something worse) or being turned into dinner, since Rob figured that most vampires would not hold people like George in much regard. They would probably not feel even a little bit of shame about going back on their word… Probably. And they were also stealing children for some reason. To turn them as well? No child could survive the turning process. No child ever has.
