Draven got the last drop of water and handed the jar to her, and she took it and set it on the floor without paying no mind. “Anyhow, Angela was the youngest of Mama’s kids that lived, so she done loved her the best, I reckon. And Angela was real pretty too, and kinda sickly. Me, I can do a man’s work right alongside Larry, but Angela was always getting sick with every little thing. She was kinda quiet-like too, round other people, least. Round me she was just funny as you please, and real nice. She couldn’t have stood for what they done to you.”
Sally looked at the mangled body in the cage, but she had to turn away. It was too gross to look very long. “But Mama weren’t the only one took a shine to Angela. She just got prettier the older she got, and the boys started paying attention. Me, I never had many boys coming around, but from the time she got about twelve years old the boys was always trying to talk to Angela and showing off for her. But she didn’t pay them no mind. She just wanted to read all the time and talk to me and not bother with no boys excepting the ones in her romantic stories.”
“Yes, I have noticed you can read.”
“Yup, I sure can. Pappy teached all us to read. I like those thrilling type books, but Angela, she loved the romantic ones. But when it come to real life, she didn’t care none about any of the boys ‘round here.”
Sally paused and thought back, chewing on a hangnail while she gathered her thoughts. She liked talking to the bloodsucker. He was a good listener, never told her to shut up. And he didn’t know her stories, neither. He waited patient and didn’t rush her or ask annoying questions. But she knew he was paying attention, not like when she talked to most men and she knew they was just waiting for her to shut up so they could get to the dirty stuff. Draven watched her face, and his own face was quiet and expectant. He’d been real pretty when they found him, and she hated that he looked so awful now.
“Anyhow, it weren’t just the boys that liked my sister. Some of the older ones liked her, too. The ones that didn’t have wives would come and try to tell her all they could give her. And one of them with a wife.
“See, back then, this was near about eight years ago, my aunt and uncle and cousin all lived with us, too. It was a tight fit, but we was family. Well, anyways, Uncle Tom always did take a shine to Angela. Only nobody knew just how much, excepting me, seeing as how I shared a room with her. Course Angela hated him to pieces, and me too, seeing as how I had to try and protect her when he’d come sneaking around trying to get dirty with her. I still kinda hate him.”
“How old was your sister?”
“She was fourteen, I reckon. Yeah. I think my aunt got to figuring out what was going on, and Uncle Tom and she was always fighting, and it was real ugly. It was just about then that the bloodsucker come ‘round. I never seen him, only Angela did. She was always kinda strange and romantic, you know, inside. And one night she said she had a dream that a boy was calling to her, and she went outside, and there was this real beautiful boy with yeller hair and the oldest eyes, real sad like an old man lived inside, even though he was young. I mean, not a little boy, but Angela’s age or thereabouts. She told me about the dream, and she kept smiling off in her head. She looked just like an angel when she talked about him.”
“It was not a dream then?”
“I don’t reckon it were. It was real peculiar how it happened like that. I mean, none of us ever saw him excepting Angela. I think it was winter then, ‘cause she’d just turned fourteen and her birthday was in January. She kept saying how strange it was, how she’d have dreams about this same boy near every night. In her dreams he’d always call her and she’d go out and they’d walk in the snow, and he’d feed her icicles or something, and it was all this sweet stuff you’d read in one of her romantic books. I never thought it was really happening.
“Then it got weirder ‘cause she’d say something, like how they walked in the snow, and her socks would be wet, or she’d have dirt on her boots that weren’t there before, or one night she fell and she had a scrape on her knee in the morning. Everybody thought she was just making it up when I told them, but I was kinda worried, ‘cause I thought she was sleepwalking and might get froze out there one night.
“Like I said, my aunt and uncle were having these problems, and then my auntie took the baby, that would be Sissy, and moved out to another house. And then it got real bad with Uncle Tom hassling my sister all the time. But she didn’t even act like she cared no more. She was always just smiling off all dreamy and tired, waiting for night so she could go back into her dream.”
“Did it not concern your mother and father that your uncle was hurting their child?”
“She weren’t a child, and I don’t think they believed it nohow. But it weren’t so strange a thing to happen, you know. Lots of things like that happen out here. Ain’t nobody to be accountable to, and not too many folks around to choose from. I’m just saying what happened. Uncle Tom, he always said stuff like, Angela didn’t like none of the boys ‘cause she was saving herself for when she was old enough to marry him, and he’d take care of her and all that. But he didn’t know Angela’d found herself a boy and she was already in love.
“We all thought it was a dream, though. I mean, we’re always worried about bloodsuckers, and once I convinced Mama and Pappy that she was sleepwalking, they checked all over her but there weren’t no bites or nothing. They tried putting locks on the outside of the door, but somehow, they always got opened. That bloodsucker was letting her out, but we didn’t know it. I don’t know how she was so quiet, but she was always real small and graceful-like, so I reckon that’s how.
“So after a while she started being real tired from all that staying up all night sleepwalking or whatever she was doing. But she was always the weak one, so we just let it pass. Mama kept saying she’d grow out of it. But she didn’t. She’d wake up every morning and tell me about how much she loved this boy and how they walked around together or did other stuff, and then on in the springtime she said he took her out under the full moon and did the nasty with her. I thought she was just making it up to make me jealous, you know, how she met this sweet boy who was so pretty and all, and they was doing stuff all the time that I wasn’t doing when I was twenty dang years old.
“But I could see how happy she was all the time, just smiling away. I kinda thought she might be starting to believe her stories or dreams were real. She was so in love, like he was a real person. Course I didn’t know he was. I thought maybe she was going crazy, you know, she’d got a fever that done fried her brain.
“Pretty soon after that, she started getting funnier in the head than she already was, and she said she was gonna run away to live with this dream-boy. Course then I knowed she was crazy, ‘cause how can you live with someone from a dream? But she weren’t saying it was a dream no more. She got real tired, though, and real sick all the time, so she could hardly get out of bed, but she’d still go out at night. Then one night she told me that her boy had said he was one of you, a bloodsucker. I told Mama and Pappy straight away, and they checked her all over, but again, she didn’t have no bites.
“She was real mad at me, and she said she weren’t never talking to me again, and anyway her boy didn’t bite her, he had some other way of doing it. I don’t rightly know what he did. She said he did it when they was kissing, and I asked if he bit her mouth and she said no, he just kinda sucked the breath out of her. I don’t know what all y’all can do, but that’s what this one did.”
“He didn’t draw from her?”
“That’s what she said. I mean, she didn’t talk to me for a good week, but after that, she had to. She always was real forgiving, and I reckon she just wanted someone to talk to about it. She was so excited. By then she was stuck in bed all the time, and Mama and Pappy started guarding the door at night so she couldn’t go out. I think they halfway believed her by then. We all did. She was so sick.
“Then one night she woke me up and she said she’d been with him, and he’d fed her a peach and told h
er it was the last thing she’d ever eat, ‘cause he was gonna make her into a bloodsucker, too. She made me promise not to tell, and she promised that once she was changed over, she’d come and change me. We’d get to live forever and do whatever we wanted, and nobody could come around trying to get dirty with us when we didn’t want. She said the first thing she was gonna do was scare Uncle Tom so bad his thing fell off. You know, his man-thing.”
Draven made a face. “I knew what you meant.”
Sally smiled. He still had the ability to look disgusted by something so small, after all they’d done to him. That were pretty dang amazing, in her mind. For a bloodsucker, he was a pretty nice man, even though he’d bit her three times now. She didn’t think much of holding grudges, though, and it hadn’t hurt much nohow. When she used to fight with Larry and he bit her, it hurt a lot worse.
“I don’t reckon I know how to explain how Angela could make just about anybody do anything for her. She was real sweet and pretty, and when she asked, you just wanted to do it. She got me all excited about living forever and never having to worry about planting and making the dang garden grow or nothing. She made it sound like we’d just walk through the orchard in love for all eternity. I reckon that’s what that boy told her.
“So the next night she woke me up again, and she said she had to go meet this boy and he was gonna make her into one of y’all, and she gave me a big hug. I asked if she was scared and she said no, she couldn’t wait, and she’d come get me as soon as she’d changed. But she never did come back, and we found her in the morning under that big tree out yonder in the yard.”
Sally finished and sat thinking, and the bloodsucker didn’t say nothing from his cage. When he spoke, his voice was real quiet so she could hardly hear him. “The birds of morning sing outside.”
Sally put the empty packets in her pocket and stood up. Course he wouldn’t have nothing to say about her story. She didn’t know what she’d expected nohow.
“Wait,” Draven said. She looked down at him. He was so pathetic she almost did want to put him out of his misery. Pappy called it ‘putting them down’ when he had to get rid of animals that were too old or sick, or just too many. “Thank you,” Draven said.
“For what?”
“The food.”
“I thought you was just gonna kill yourself anyway.”
“I was. But you stopped me.”
“I did? I can’t get you out of there. They don’t even let me have the key no more. Only Pappy has it.”
“Why? Did they find out I… bit you?”
“No, but some of them boys was coming in here doing stuff to you while nobody else was here. They’re supposed to wait ‘til everybody decides on what new thing to do.”
“What were they doing?”
“I think they was breaking your bones with a sledgehammer.”
Draven didn’t say nothing for a second. He looked down at the twisted lower half of his body, the filthy brown shorts that had been white and the oozing wounds in his legs. Sally tried not to look. “Yes, it looks like that happened,” he said.
“Don’t it feel like it?” Sally asked, her voice cracking a little. She tried real hard not to cry again.
“Yes,” he said softly. “It feels like it, too.”
She bit her lip but tears squeezed out her eyes, anyway. “You was right,” she said. “They’re just gonna keep on ‘til you die.”
“Yes. That’s likely true. But perhaps not.”
“Ain’t none of them gonna change their minds.”
“Perhaps you’ll change yours.”
“Don’t count on that, neither.”
“I won’t count on it. But I can hope you will.”
25
Byron had compiled a list of all the missing people in Princeton in the last fifty years. Ten people had gone missing, a lot for a small town of less than a million. It didn’t take much time to compile the list. But the surface story rarely satisfied Byron. His determination and diligence made him the perfect man for the assignment.
Two other Enforcers had joined Byron a few weeks after his initial investigation started. Along with Byron and Milton, they rounded out the team for the assignment. Byron instantly disliked one of the men, both because of the disheveled paunchiness around his middle and the fact that his name was Caleb, a name as weak as the man himself looked. Caleb combed over every piece of information as meticulously as he combed his few strands of blond hair over his bald head, which furthered Byron’s dislike, since Byron had already gathered and studied the data.
The other man, Drake, was tall and angular in build and movement. He kept to himself most of the time and spent his nights out of the office, talking to people and inputting his research into the case files before leaving in the morning. Byron neither liked nor disliked him. He respected Drake’s methods, but after a few attempts at getting to know him, Byron gave up and left the man alone.
Byron found himself without companionship most nights, and he missed his life back home, where he’d been surrounded by others more often than he liked. He missed strategizing in the games he and Draven had played, talking to Draven, having the younger man look up to him. He missed the respect he’d earned working for many years for the Enforcement office, and the Enforcers he’d spent time with, their talk and the way they confided in him and asked his advice. And he missed his wife and children.
Whenever he grew particularly homesick, he turned on his communications screen to call his family. The case had begun to frustrate him, though from the outset he’d known it could take years. He had barely touched the surface. He thought about venting to his wife, about seeing his children’s faces. But before he called, the usual ads popped up on his call screen. Though he usually ignored ads, tonight one caught his eye.
“Is your plain old turbine an eyesore?” the screen asked Byron. “Do you avoid going out in your backyard when company is over because you’re embarrassed to have such an ugly lawn ornament? Have we got the solution for you! Whatever your style, whatever your taste…” Here, the screen showed two images that reflected neither style nor taste. “…We’ve got the answer that will turn your ugly wind turbine into a reflection of your unique personality. Custom made to fit your needs or simply choose from the large selection available at your favorite power supply retailer. Try a classic Furr-Bine, Color-Bine, Deco-Bine, or one of our all-new lines, Glitter-Bines and Shine-Bines, brought to you by Furr-Bine Industries.”
The ad disappeared and Byron’s call list came up, listing available contacts at the moment. But the ad had distracted him. He’d kept an eye on Meyer Kidd until the boy left town a month after Byron talked to him. Byron had checked into the boy’s story and it seemed honest enough. Meyer had registered when he left, putting his destination city as Texas, and he had registered his arrival the next day, having traveled by private aircraft back to his Texas mansion.
Byron looked down the contact list and saw his family listed as “available, home.” Glancing out the window, he saw that the light had only begun to push into the sky. He sighed and changed his screen from contact mode to search mode. Byron punched in Meyer Kidd in the information search and waited for the system to find the boy. The same story he’d read months before filled the screen. The boy himself, or his company, had supplied most of the information in his public file. More propaganda than biography.
Byron found the information he needed, switched his screen back to contact mode, and instructed the device to make contact. A few seconds later a yellow message popped onto the screen. “Contact Accepted” flashed, and then Meyer’s face came onto the screen. He had the same slicked-back hair as before, shiny with hardened gel and lined from the stroke of a comb through it. He was as pale and childlike as Byron remembered.
“Hello there, Enforcer. What a pleasure,” the boy said with a smile. He sat back away from the screen and waited for Byron to show his respects.
“It certainly is,” Byron said. “How’s your business?”
“That’s…good to know.”
“So, Enforcer. To what do I owe the pleasure of this little chat?”
“I thought I’d check in with you. I have a fondness for children.”
Meyer laughed. “Ah, I see. I can assure you, sir, I am no child.”
“I suppose you’re right. Well then. Can I ask you a few more questions about your sapien, Herman?”
“Of course you may.”
“How old was Herman when you last saw him?”
“Oh, he must have been…around his twenties, I suppose. Late twenties, probably.”
“I see. And how long did you own him?”
“I’m sure you can check in the system, sir. As you know, I am an important man with lots to do.”
“Yes, I know. So. How long?”
“Perhaps ten years.”
“Did you bring him to Princeton each of these ten years?”
“Yes,” Meyer answered. “Why?”
Byron smiled. “Just getting the facts. No need to get defensive.”
“I’m not defensive.”
“Then you have nothing to worry about. Unless you’re lying to me. You know it’s a crime to kill a human, and an even greater one to claim they’ve disappeared so you can gather insurance money on one.”
“I didn’t kill him,” the boy said, his voice shrill. “I would never kill Herman. He was my favorite pet.”
“Accidents happen, Meyer.”
“Stop saying that,” the boys said. “I didn’t kill him! I would never kill a human.”
“Yes, you quite like them, don’t you?”
“They are delicious.”
“And why didn’t you have one with you in Princeton this year?”
Blood Thirst Page 12
