Wednesday night, John Henry and the Mayor landed their helicopter and walked down to the Johnsons’ house for answers. John Henry did not like the Johnsons because they were black, and this was the perfect opportunity to interrogate them. Those people were always up to no good in his opinion, and now was the time to find out what they were doing to his town. John Henry had been high in the air in a makeshift tent with Mike Chambers. They had spent the previous night and morning in the forest waiting for signs of the vampire boys. Finding none, Mike suggested his friend search by air with a helicopter. They found no signs of the boys, but found something equally interesting.
Mayor Benaford reluctantly followed behind the man. Like John, he wanted answers, but he was more concerned with the man; he was a redneck, and they could act irrationally without provocation. As they got to the door of the house, Benaford stepped in front of the tall thin man.
“Now listen here, John Henry, these are citizens of our town and you let me do the talking.”
“Fine, Mayor, get on with it,” John yelled, throwing his arms in the air.
The Mayor rang the doorbell. As he did, John removed the handgun from his belt and casually checked it.
Mrs. Johnson opened the door. “Hello?”
“Good evening, ma’am. I know it’s late. I am Mayor Benaford and this is Mr. Henry. Could we come in and talk with you about the search we are conducting?”
Mrs. Johnson looked at the two men with caution and then reluctantly opened the door wider and invited them into her home. “Come in, gentlemen.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” said the Mayor. He entered, John following behind; he did not dignify the woman with a word.
“Please have a seat. Can I get you something to drink?”
“No, thank you. Let me get to why we are here. We just flew over the town and noticed an eerie image over your home. It was some sort of design like a crest. We wondered if you might tell us about it.”
Mrs. Johnson took a deep breath before answering. “I haven’t noticed any image on the roof; can you tell me what exactly you are referring to?”
“Oh come on, you know what we are talking about –” John Henry blurted.
Mayor Benaford cut across. “Forgive my friend here. As you can see, he is a little worried about the town and its people. There is an image of something resembling a crest on your roof. We found the same image on other buildings like the store and the school. Can you explain these images?”
“I have not been on my roof so I can’t know if what you are saying is true or false. I know of no image on my roof, Mr. Benaford.”
“Can we show you the image we are talking about?”
“My husband is not at home; maybe you gentlemen can come back tomorrow in the daytime and show him what it is you speak of. He will have a better idea of what you are referring to than I.”
“Of course, Mrs. Johnson.” The Mayor rose to his feet, and so did John Henry. Mrs. Johnson led them back to the door.
When she opened the door, John Henry grabbed her and pulled out his gun. Mrs. Johnson screamed and he covered her mouth, shoved her against the wall, and put the gun in her face. “Shut up, bitch, or I will blow your head off right here!”
Benaford swung out to grab him, but the bigger man shoved him to the floor before training his gun back onto the woman. Mrs. Johnson was frightened but kept her wits about her. She held up her hands to calm him and show him she would cooperate.
“Very good. Now let’s take a look around this place and see what we can find. Let’s go. Come on, Mayor, get up so we can search this place.”
With no choice but to cooperate, the Mayor followed the two, led by Mrs. Johnson who was prodded by John Henry, into the kitchen. As they stood in the center of the room, he began to search through cupboards.
“I don’t see anything here.”
“All right; living room, then.” Yet though they searched, they still found nothing.
“Let’s go upstairs,” John ordered.
Once more, they found nothing. Now he was beginning to get frustrated.
Then, suddenly, an idea occurred to the man. “Downstairs,” he said excitably. “There is a basement down there.”
Mrs. Johnson knew she would not be able to stop them from opening the door but she kept calm and hoped for the best. She would not make trouble and if she could make it through this search without them finding the truth, she would ensure that they would never bother them again. It was worth taking the chance and not resisting; to argue would heighten their curiosity and she needed to satisfy them so they would tell the others. Coming up with an explanation for the roof would be easy, she could simply say that it was a failed art exhibition or something else that sounded reasonable. She just needed to make it through this search.
Walking down the stairs, she gently pressed her fingernails into the railing. Though inaudible to the men, they made a quiet noise, which she followed with two taps before repeating.
In the nursery, Sara rocked Marianna. She heard the noise and tapping. She got out of her seat and put the baby in its incubator. Sara went to a desk in the room and pressed a button behind the desk. Part of the wall opened in front of her, revealing four monitors. Each monitor was the feed of a camera trained on the house. The first was the house’s exterior; next the living room and kitchen; the third the entryway to the bedrooms; and finally, the fourth was the stairs and front door. On this last monitor she saw her mother being led downstairs by two men, one pointing a gun to the back of her head.
Sara had no time for fear: she leaped into action and detached the incubator from its stand and picked it up with the baby. She took them to the wall and pressed a hidden panel; an opening yawned. Sara went in to the dim tunnel with the baby. The walls were dirty and she stayed in the middle, trying not to touch them. She walked a few feet down the tunnel and sat the baby down, then returned to the nursery room to check the monitors.
Mrs. Johnson led the men to the door under the stairs and turned the doorknob, but the door would not open. She tried again. “It’s locked. The key is in the top kitchen drawer by the refrigerator. I’ll go and get it.” She took a step towards the kitchen, but John Henry stopped her.
“No, you won’t. Do you think we are fools? I’m not letting you out of my sight; I know how crafty and deceitful you people are. Mayor, go get that key. Be careful: the room might be booby trapped.”
The mayor looked frightened after hearing those words but went into the kitchen and cautiously opened the drawer and found the key. He breathed a sigh of relief and returned with it, handing it to Mrs. Johnson so she could open the door.
It was this that Sara saw as she looked again into the monitors. She flipped on a small light near the stairs and saw her mother look at it and smile. Sara pushed another button and a camera came on in the basement. She watched her mother enter the basement with the men behind her. The men saw an ordinary basement with boxes stacked along walls and a bookshelf with books. Nothing was unusual or out of place.
“Check those boxes, Mayor. I know something is down here and I aim to find it.” The Mayor obliged, but all he found were normal household items. “Check over there,” John Henry instructed, waving to the bookshelves.
“All right, but this is it.”
“Take them down,” shouted John Henry in frustration.
Frustrated, Mayor Benaford began tossing books to the floor – and heard a click. He stopped. He turned to John Henry, who also heard the sound and came closer with Mrs. Johnson.
“What was that?” John yelled, pushing the gun barrel harder into her temple. “Tell me now or by God, I will put a bullet hole in your head big enough to drive a freight train through. What was that?”
Mrs. Johnson struggled to get free but couldn’t. “I don’t know, I don’t know!”
The mayor examined the area and saw a crack. He looked sharper and then leaned in toward it. Was that a bright light he could see? John Henry released his grip from the woman. She saw her husband’s alum
inum baseball bat behind her. As John Henry rushed past, she grabbed it, gathered all her strength, and swung. John let out a grunt, hit the back wall and then fell to the floor. The Mayor, panicking, moved to run – but Mrs. Johnson picked up the gun and fired.
The Mayor dropped to his knees and began sobbing. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Please don’t kill me. It was him, not me. I wanted to try to solve the town’s mystery but it was him, he pulled the gun and did all of this. I’m sorry. Please don’t kill me.” The man cried and held his head down in shame, lying prostrate on the floor in front of her.
Mrs. Johnson felt sorry for the man. “Keep quiet or my people will find you no matter where you run.” She threw down the gun and walked past the man and opened the bookshelf and went through.
On the other side, Sara waited. Mrs. Johnson hugged her daughter and went to the desk. “Marianna is in the tunnel?”
“Yes. What are we going to do?”
Mrs. Johnson pressed a panel on the wall beside the desk which activated a timer. Her fingers flew across a keyboard, then numbers began counting down from 600 on the screen.
“We have to get a few things from upstairs; we are never coming back. Let’s go.”
Back through the opening, the Mayor was still on his knees, sobbing. The two women went upstairs and grabbed backpacks from behind their doors, stuffed in a few extra items, then ran downstairs.
Before going to safety, Mrs. Johnson stopped in the basement and shouted to the Mayor, who now was trying to pull the dazed man up. “This house is going to explode in ten minutes. Get out while you can.” Then she and her daughter were back through the opening.
John Henry began to awaken. “What happened? Where is she, where did she go?”
“We have to get out of here. This house is going to blow up – come on!”
Dragged to his feet by the Mayor, John once again asked, “Where did she go?”
The Mayor pointed toward the panel. “In there. Come on, we need to go!”
“No! I’m going after her.” And, pulling away from the other man, he snatched back up his gun and entered the opening. He went through the secret room and opened the door at its end.
He found himself in a long, dark tunnel. Toward its end he spotted Mrs. Johnson and another figure running beside her. He gave chase, then, when they were in sight, he stopped, aimed – and fired. Mrs. Johnson hit the floor, crying out. Sara spun and screamed. She put down the incubator to check on her mother.
“Mom, Mom, how bad is it, can you get up?”
“No, I don’t think so. Listen to me, Sara, go to the panel on the wall and open it. Press 2388, you understand? Press 2388. Take the baby with you. Hurry!”
At the same time, Mayor Benaford came through the door. He grabbed John Henry and screamed at him, “No! No, no, no! Why did you do that? She let us go and you do this!”
John Henry broke out of his grip. “That woman is a traitor to us all. They have to be stopped; you don’t show your enemy mercy! You take them out!”
Sara raced for the panel and punched in the numbers her mother gave her. She pressed 2388. Nothing happened. Frantically, she entered them again and slapped the return key. Instantly there was an explosion in the middle of the tunnel. Sara went back to help her mother, but all she could see was dust and smoke. With her abilities, she found and easily lifted her mother and carried her to the door. When they made it to the door, her mother punched in the code; the door opened. After Sara and the baby were inside, she punched in another code and entered. The door closed – and another explosion ripped right through the tunnel.
The mayor used all his strength to grab John Henry and pull him back into the basement and then out of the house. Just as they were out, the house exploded.
“You see that, Mayor?” John demanded. “Proof! There is all the proof you need! Those are dangerous people and we have to find them and kill them! We are having a town meeting tomorrow and we are going after every last one of them traitors.”
The man limped away, leaving the Mayor alone. What had happened? What was his next move? This town wasn’t his; it hadn’t been for years. He had no idea about this tunnel system, and it certainly was not put in place overnight. He tried to think back to a time when heavy machinery operated in the area, hoping that would give him an idea of how long it had been, but he could not recall seeing any.
There was pain in his hand; he looked down and saw blood. He walked toward the school, hoping he could find someone in the neighborhood who was home and could help him.
After entering the outer room, Sara called for help, and when help arrived she took the baby to the nursery and went to check on her mother in the infirmary.
Lisa was the top human medical professional on duty. As she talked to the woman who was slipping in and out of consciousness, she removed the bullet from her back and examined her thoroughly. When she was awake, Mrs. Johnson kept asking about her daughter and Marianna.
“They are both fine and resting. Now you rest so I can repair the damage.” Lisa gave more instructions to her assistant: “Prepare a syringe with T-95 and go and get Bethany for the conversion.”
Mrs. Johnson caught her by the arm. “No! I will not submit to conversion.”
“If you don’t, you will die. The only thing keeping you alive is TX-27 and it will leave your system in a matter of minutes. With all the blood you have lost, your body cannot repair itself and you will not survive.”
“I know, but it is my wish and it will be honored. Bring my daughter to me, quickly.” She lay back and closed her eyes, trying to gather as much strength as she could in order to face her daughter and give her the bad news.
Lisa gave her another shot of TX-27 to keep her alive a little while longer and then left the room. She found Sara waiting in a chair. She went to her with sadness on her face; she was not good at giving bad news and wanted to telegraph what she had come to say to the young girl.
“Is she better?”
“No. Come with me. She is calling for you.”
Hand in hand, Lisa and Sara walked down the hall. They stopped outside of the door and Lisa spoke to her again. “Your mother is dying. We can save her but that would mean by conversion and she has decided against the procedure. She is asking for you.”
Sara was processing the information when she walked through the door and saw all the blood surrounding her mother. She cried; her yelp awakened Mrs. Johnson, who turned to look at her. Sara ran to her crying, “Momma, Momma, don’t die, don’t leave me!”
Mrs. Johnson reached up and touched her daughter’s wet face and put on a big smile. “Baby, you know I love you. I was born human, and that is the way I will die: human. We have talked about this before as a family and you sat on the couch and you told me you understood. Were you lying to me back then?”
Through her tears, Sara shook her head.
Her mother was getting weaker and her voice faded. “Your father is far away in Alaska. He is being told as we speak. I’m sorry I have to leave you, but you are not alone, you hear me? You are not alone! I want you to stay here where you will be safe. Do not go to the surface for any reason. Keep doing your job and protecting the children; they need you more than ever. The townspeople will try and find them and this place. Do everything in your power to keep them safe. I have always loved you and have always been proud of you. You are my angel and if there is a way for me to watch over you from beyond, you know I will. I love you so much, baby girl.”
Sara bent down and hugged her mother. “I love you too, Momma.”
“No, you don’t, there is not that much love in the world.”
“You are right about that.” Sara sniffled and with a cracked voice said, “That is why I am going to the moon. I’m taking my love to the next level just for you, Momma, nobody but you.”
Shakily, the two women clasped hands. “Sing with me, baby,” Mrs. Johnson whispered. “One last song to welcome me home. Lay the flowers on my chest…”
Sa
ra began to tear up.
Mrs. Johnson started her favorite Spiritual again, “Lay the flowers on my chest.”
“Lay the flowers on my chest,” Sara echoed.
“Tell the world I’ve done my best.”
“Tell the world I’ve done my best,” sang Sara in a low shaky whisper.
“Father, Father, can’t you see.”
“Father, Father, can’t you see.”
“The army’s not for me.”
“The army’s not for me.”
“Daughter, Daughter, don’t you cry.”
“Daughter, Daughter, don’t you cry.”
“You know I have to die.”
“You know I …” That was all Sara could manage before her tears overcame her. Mrs. Johnson wrapped her arms around her daughter and after a short embrace, her arms dropped to her sides and she was gone. “I love you, Momma, and I will miss you.”
Sara cried some more and lay her mother back down. She wiped the tears from her eyes and wiped them from her mother’s cheeks. Sara fixed her mother’s hair, combing through it with her fingers and kissed her on her lips.
Sitting beside her mother, Sara watched her. It was almost as if she was sleeping.
The door swung open loudly. It was Malcolm; he had come as fast as he could, desperately hoping the rumors were not true. But when he saw her, he broke down. “No, no, no, it can’t be! It can’t be!”
Slowly Lisa and the others started coming back into the room; each hugged Sara and told her how sorry they were. She wasn’t alone. She had a large family around her that would protect her and love her with everything they had.
Chapter 25
Cavers: A Vampire Tale Page 35
