by Alex Dire
“Really, Mr. Bernard,” said Darius. “You’re getting so predictable.”
“No, Darius. Not this time.” Norman drew in a deep breath. “I can’t lead this charge.”
“Wait. What?” said Felicia. Norman knew she’d sense his feelings, and the rest would sense hers. All the smiles in the room flattened.
"I'm losing my powers. Alric said it would happen. I've been feeling it. I try to glamor groups or vampires, but I…slip."
“So you’re going to run?” said Tyreese.
“No.” Norman let his glance drop to his desktop. “My whole life, I thought I was special. I could do things in a classroom that no one else could. Not even other vampires. I thought it had to do with my experiences, my ability to master the wills of my classes.” His eyes shot back up. “But that was a lie. A lie I told myself.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Mr. Bernard,” said Cindy. “You can do things I’ve never seen any other vampire do.” She turned to Norman’s own progeny. “Except Felicia.”
“Everything I’ve been able to do is going away. Soon. I don’t know how soon. I’ll be just like you. I won’t be able to lead a nation…lead a fight. I won’t even be able to handle a group of students in a Shakespeare class. I’ll be worse than useless.” Norman was putting his weakness out there for them all to see. He could barely look them in the eye. But he did.
“No,” said Felicia. “You’re—“
“Unless,” said Norman. He took a breath. Here goes.
“He’s going to ground,” said Tyreese.
Tyreese was so perceptive, so smart. Always seeing the angles. “He’s right. Unless I go to ground. Sleep like a worm. Alric said it would restore me. I would become a worm, like him. For a time, anyway.”
“What?” shrieked Felicia. “You’ll leave us? No. We need you now more than ever. Skeete’s still out there.”
“How long?” said Tyreese in a cool, even, emotionless tone.
"A month. A year. A hundred years. I don't know how this works. I'll wake when I wake. And when I do, I'll be powerful again. Then I can help. Then I can lead."
“Mr. Bernard,” said Darius. “All kidding aside. Felicia is right. Skeete’s out there. And from what you say, she’s got it in for us. All of us. You can’t be saying you’re just going to leave us?”
“I have no choice. Soon it will be too late. I’ll diminish forever. It has to be now.”
“How do you know?” said Cindy. “Does it really have to be now?”
“I can feel it,” said Norman.
“I don’t believe this,” said Felicia. “I don’t accept it. Everything is lining up against us. The government. Vampire death squads. And Skeete with that map. This isn’t you, Mr. Bernard. What are you doing?”
“I can’t do anything about that,” said Norman. “Not like I am. I have to be better. I have to be more powerful. Then I can do my part.”
“It’ll be too late,” said Tyreese.
“I hope not.”
“You know it will,” said the prescient boy.
Norman drew in another deep breath. Why didn’t they understand? He’d survived his whole vampire life because of this power. Through his classes. Through the fights with Skeete. Through his rapid rise in government. If he lost that, he had nothing. He was nothing.
“Norman,” said Rufus, stepping from behind the students. “If I might. Your…abilities have come in handy from time to time. But they are not what makes you special. They are not why I left the VU and came here.” Rufus’ words seemed to silence all noise in the room. “I am a soldier. I pledged my life to the Vampire Republic. I’ve fought and bled for it. I’ve given brothers for it.”
“I know your value, Rufus. That’s why—“
“And yet here I am. At a high school. Offering my service. To a teacher.”
“Rufus.” Norman’s breathing quickened. His old friend had saved his life multiple times without any consideration for his own. He was the most reliable friend Norman had ever had, but before Rufus’ friendship was based on his pledge and would only stretch to the boundaries of his service to the party and no further. But now. Now he was here pledging to him. To a “teacher” as he said.
"I…I thank you, Rufus. Truly." Rufus' faith and Felicia's feelings tugged at his heart and made it difficult to stem swelling tears. He fought to maintain his composure. "But it's my one trick, and I'm about to lose it. That's why I can't stay. That's why I have to go to ground. Otherwise, I won't be me anymore."
"No," said Rufus. "We'd tried to fight off Skeete for years underground in that sewer. It was a losing battle until you showed up. You rallied our pathetic group into a fighting force. That was you." Rufus tilted his head down and stared at Norman as if he was staring into his soul. "That was you."
“He’s right,” said Felicia. “That’s what you do. Even when you were just our teacher.”
“I glamored my way through class, Felicia, don’t you see that?”
“Not me,” said his young progeny. “You never needed to glamor me.”
“Or me,” said Tyreese.
“Me either,” said Darius.
“Same here,” added Cindy.
“When we left Night School,” said Felicia. “When we heard you were leaving us, we came running to the office. We came because of you. Not because of some trick, some vampire power. Because of you. You were our teacher. Our leader. You’ve led us ever since.”
“All of us,” said Tyreese.
MacManus nodded his head.
“It’s not your tricks, sir,” said Rufus. “It’s you.”
“We don’t want you for your worm powers, Mr. Bernard,” said Felicia. “We want you for you. We need you.”
Norman's mind reeled. He began to question everything he thought had been true about his adventures with this group of students and Rufus and all the others. "I'd just be another vampire," said Norman.
“You never were that,” said Rufus. “And I’ve been around a long, long time.”
Norman thought back to that moment underground when he'd first discovered Ian and Rufus and the demoralized group of survivors. He'd tried to glamor them, to bend them to his will and follow his plan. But he'd failed. In the end, they followed him anyway, many to their deaths. "So many are dead because of me."
“Yes, Norman,” said Rufus. “They died willingly for you, and now you owe them. You must see the fight to its end.” He held his gaze on Norman. “Or many more will die.” He turned his head slightly indicating the Nymphs behind him.
The students were so young. As humans, they'd barely experienced anything; as vampires, even less. They had their training, and they had Rufus and a few others. But Skeete was out there. She had that map. Norman wasn't sure what it was for, but she seemed set so hard on getting it. She'd even abandoned her beloved Vampire Registration Bill once she had it. It must have some terrible meaning. How would these Nymphs contend with that? Could he really leave them? But without his worm abilities, he'd lose…himself.
Norman felt a tightness in his chest as if his heart was being squeezed. Felicia. She yearned for him so. For a teacher. For a father. Their eyes locked. He could see the despair on her face and feel it within himself. She was strong. But so angry. So quick to fight. She'd charge right into impossible battle and die in a blaze of rage and blood without a thought. No. She was right. Norman could not leave her. Not now. Maybe not ever. He needed to protect her. He needed to protect them all. Even Rufus. That lovable oaf so bent on sacrificing himself. What a waste that would be.
He felt his heart loosen. Felicia’s face relaxed. She knew what he was going to say before he even said it. “Okay.” Felicia ran to him and buried her cheek in his chest, wrapping her arms around him. It felt like family. Like home. “I’ll stay and fight.”
51
Legacy
Press outnumbered the observers gathered around the front steps of MLK Night School. Norman stood atop the steps at a lectern. He thought he should f
eel nervous, but he didn’t. This was the last press conference he’d ever give. Then he’d be free of the burdens of the office, free of the world for a while.
The teleprompter scrolled his message before him. He didn’t need it. “Ladies and gentlemen. We’ve been through a lot lately. I know many of you are scared. I know you never intended for a vampire to be your President. The truth is…we’re scared too. I’m scared.
“This is new for all of us. But I want to create a country, a world, where we can all be who we are AND live together. Where we can build on the strengths of each other. Where we can all be free. Maybe it’s the teacher in me, but I feel that’s going to take a lot of education. So, tonight I announce the creation of the first Night School for Vampire Education. It will begin in September and its purpose will be to teach us all. Several years ago, my kind was devastated by a vicious civil war. Few of us remain. The rest are brand new. Infants, really. Night School will take them in. Teach them about themselves and how to function in this new world. How to contribute. How to serve. When these students graduate, they’ll be leaders. Forging a new world with you. A new world for us all.”
The staff behind Norman clapped, which prompted a token clap from those in the assembled crowd.
“And to lead this school, I’m appointing a veteran teacher. A teacher who already knows this place. Mr. Blake Palleuchetti.”
Norman’s old sage stepped out from amongst the staff behind the lectern. Norman knew he could trust Blake with the school. He was not sure how, but, somehow, he knew. It was part of his mystery. Blake's secrets would come out eventually. Norman shook his hand and looked to the crowd, posing for the press. He hated that.
Blake tapped on the microphone. “Good evening. Three things. First, I’d like to thank the President for this opportunity. Lord knows I was never looking for it.”
The crowd made a low rumble of laughter. They were falling for his calming charm already.
“Second. I’m going to keep this very short. I’ve only got one summer to get a whole school up and running, and I need to start right now. My goal is to create a way for vampires to safely integrate with society, and we’re going to succeed in that goal. And third.” He scanned the audience. “I’m human.”
The crowd laughed again and applauded as Blake stepped back from the podium.
Human. Norman remembered that moment when Blake had done something to his will, made some sort of connection. Perhaps not.
The words on the teleprompter scrolled off screen and reporters started packing up their stuff. Norman looked along the row of his staff and made eye contact with one. Here we go, he thought. He stepped back to the mic. “And finally.”
The crowd, which had begun to devolve into chatter and noise fell silent. The reporters reopened their notebooks and the camera’s retrained on the podium.
“I know the chief source of fear for many of you…is me. How can I lead a nation of humans? Will I be impartial? Can I be trusted? Should you follow me?" He scanned the crowd to let his words sink in. "I feel that for many of you, the answer will be no. This is all too much, too fast."
Shutters snapped. Flashbulbs fired. “I’m inclined to agree. A human President would make this all easier. One who is smart, fair, and knowledgeable about this new world we all now live in. I know that cannot be me. Therefore, at 9:00 AM tomorrow morning, I will resign as President of the United States of America.”
Reporter’s hands flew into the air accompanied by shouts of “Mr. President! Mr. President!” The questions came one on top of the other and the sounds merged to noise.
Norman lowered his head and focused on the crowd. The voices became distinct as the details of the world sharpened. The wills of the crowd hovered before him, spastic and red. He pushed into them. Reaching with his own will, gripping. He felt the slippage. He knew he was making the right decision. He gripped harder. He closed his eyes. They were his.
Norman opened his eyes again. “One question at a time, please.”
The audience fell silent. Norman pointed to a woman holding a notebook and pencil. “You.”
“Mr. President, who will take your place?" asked the reporter.
“I’m glad you asked,” said Norman. “Succeeding me will be my Vice President, of course.”
Chatter surged through the crowd again. Puzzled looks sprouted on the assembled faces.
Norman couldn’t help but smile. “Allow me to introduce Vice President Alejandro Garcia.”
Garcia was the only politician, possibly in the world, who might bring a sympathetic point of view to the office. Norman knew the local politician could never get elected outside his own quirky district. He thought himself rather shrewd for appointing the state representative in a hushed assembly of Congress. They'd have ratified anyone who didn't have fangs. He fought back his smile and stepped away from the podium.
Garcia emerged from the gaggle of aids and shook Norman's hand. A blinding explosion of flashes greeted them.
Garcia spoke through his smile. “I still can't believe you got General Sykes to go along with your plan.”
“He wanted me gone very badly. He'd have done nearly anything if I'd grant that wish.”
Garcia chuckled. “Be careful what you wish for.”
“Indeed.”
Norman leaned to the microphone. “Thank you, Vice President Garcia.” He stepped away.
Garcia moved to the lectern.
“No, Mr. President. Thank you.” Garcia winked.
Norman detected a hint of that oddball character he’d met in the office of the state house. Oh dear. Don’t blow this.
Garcia straightened up and spoke into the mic. “I’d be happy to take any of your questions.”
A reporter shouted. “We’ve all heard the rumors, Mr. Vice President. Why did President Bernard choose you?”
Norman didn’t need to be here anymore. This was no longer his show. He stepped back toward the great doors of the old school building. He reached behind and grasped a handle, opening the door just enough to squeeze through. A member of his security detail stepped toward him. “Sir.”
“Stay,” said Norman in his special way.
The guard complied.
Norman slipped through the doors and into the school, pushing the portal closed behind him and leaning back against it. He breathed deep. The smell of public high school. It comforted him. He savored it. But just for a moment. His footsteps echoed off the lockers as he walked with quick strides back toward his office. He had packing to do.
Norman wasn't sure how he'd find Skeete, or what he would do when he did. But he knew he had to, that everything depended on it. That task, however would have to wait another day. He needed to rest...and feed. It was getting late. He hoped Fiore's was still open.
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Also By Alex Dire
NIGHT SCHOOL SERIES
Book 1: Vampire Awakening
Book 2: Vampire Legion
Book 3: Vampire Ascendance
FREE NIGHT SCHOOL STORIES
New Blood: Adrift in a Vampire War (prequel)
Young Blood (the story of the nymphs)
HUNTED BY MAGIC SERIES
Demon Marked (Coming Soon)
Demon Blood (Coming Soon)
alexdire.com
[email protected]
Back of Book Stuff
This third installment of Night School marks a major change in my life. My family and I have moved from our beloved Jamaica Plain neighborhood of Boston.
I first came to Boston with my wife in 2002. I was changing careers and had entered an accelerated teacher prep program. We were both looking for a different type of life than that afforded in our suburban hometown where we’d grown up. We wanted to experience a city and have some fun while we were young and mobile.
After much research and trips around the country, we settl
ed on Boston. Our plan was to stay in the city for three or four years and then either move out of the suburbs or back to our home state of Connecticut. We ended up staying for thirteen years.
By the end of our run in Boston, we both had new careers. I was now a veteran teacher and my wife had gone to grad school and emerged an occupational therapist. We also had two delightful toddlers.
Ultimately, the pull of family overcame our fierce desire to remain in Boston. We really wanted our kids to grow up around their grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins. The people we love are all too mortal. It was important to us to be around them while we still could.
In thirty years I’ll never lament working in this school or that school. But I really think I would regret not spending time with my mom and dad while they’re still here.
So, now we live in Connecticut again. It has been a large adjustment. We so enjoyed walking around our old Boston neighborhood to visit the grocery store or the pharmacy or the hardware store. Now we’re chained to our cars. No more running into neighbors on after dinner walks.
But we’ve gained so much as well. Nothing can replace the squeals of joy from my two boys when grandma and grandpa ring the doorbell. We receive so much love from our families, I wouldn’t change things if I could.
I’ll be doing my writing next to my kitchen window in suburban Connecticut from now on. I’ve said goodbye to my little urban classroom filled with its rambunctious and awesome adolescents. I’m teaching in a different world now. Though a part of my heart will always remain back there, in my school lacking in resources but fueled by passion. I’ll hold on, though, to that little piece of me that idealistically charged into urban education all those years ago. That piece of me that’s a little like Norman Bernard.
www.alexdire.com
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