by M. Lorrox
Silence.
“June?”
“I think that’s a bad idea.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“Eddy, you don’t know that!”
“Trust me, I do…”
“It’s a risk you don’t need to take. Why are you doing this?”
Why? “June, I can help! I can protect…them, and you, and our families, and the town. I can help protect everyone.”
“DO NOT say you’re doing this for me! It’s too dangerous Eddy. Besides, I don’t trust those cousins… Hold on, is Sophia going to be helping?”
“Yeah, it’s her and the cousins, Jess and Joe, and me and Tomo.” Eddy listens; he can hear June breathing on the other end.
“Eddy, it’s a bad idea. Don’t do it.”
He shakes his head and flirts with his temper. “You don’t understand. I need to.”
“Eddy, I have a bad feeling. Will you just come home instead?”
Her voice cracks. Eddy can’t tell if she’s upset or just breathing fast. It makes him nervous, it makes him scared, and it makes him sad. “June, no, I can’t. I gotta go. I’ll call you after, okay?”
“Just, be safe, Eddy.”
-click-
Eddy looks at his phone. She hung up.
Sadie typically spends her Sundays without Minnie. She takes the day to herself, usually enjoying a long bath while reading a book or listening to music. Sometimes she takes the Jeep out for some exercise—driving up into the mountains to hike—and sometimes she uses the time to stay connected with friends. Modern, instant ways of messaging are lovely for staying in touch, but Sadie feels like these are just too easy and that too often nothing of value is even said through them. But handwritten letters take time, they take thought, and they just seem to mean something more to her.
Sadie has many old friends from her lives in Europe, and even some who are still living in the Finger Lakes region of New York State—where she helped the wine industry take root—before she moved to the South and its warmer climate.
Corresponding with her oldest friends has always been a special joy Sadie reserves for Sundays, when she can be alone. Even though she has the house to herself today and she’s drunk about a gallon of her favorite peach tea, her mind has been anything but settled. She is writing letters, but she writes them to other elders, who aren’t necessarily her close friends.
Sadie is logged in to the private portal to verify the addresses of the allies she’s been touching base with, some she hasn’t seen in almost a decade. The most powerful group within the House of Elders, the High Council, meets monthly, but the elders themselves meet much less frequently. There’s a general assembly every ten years, but between them only select members and committees meet with the Council when needed. Matters that require a decision by vote would be communicated to all elders, and traditionally the votes would be cast by letter.
Humans require much more active participation in their governments; they tend to squabble over insignificant matters. Vampires have learned long ago that without sacrifice and cooperation, they would never survive. The old world was very harsh to the vampires, but the House of Elders allowed them all to work together toward their ultimate aim: survival.
Sadie is not currently serving on any committees, and so she has not met in person with any elder, besides Mary, since the last general assembly eight years ago. She does keep in touch with her allies though; being an old vampire from an ancient and prestigious family carries significant weight. She is well respected, and her network is wide, powerful, old, and—perhaps most significant—many of them are in her debt.
She plans to keep it that way.
When she campaigned for the right of knights to be able to choose when to accept new squires—or not—she did so with her logic, her oratory skills, and her political genius; she didn’t rely on her owed considerations. The measure passed, but only at the very last minute.
Sadie maintains her favoritism within the House of Elders through effort and tactics. She makes it a point to know everyone, to share with them in their joys, to condole them during their sorrows, and to be their friend in between.
When she has a personal agenda, however, she has been known to travel into questionable moral territory for short visits.
Sadie smiles as she starts a note to an old friend and powerful ally.
Raúl is a Lucas, and his family is as old as Sadie’s. The Lucas family honors the old ways and takes history and traditions very seriously. They were one of the biggest opponents to Sadie’s proposal of allowing knights to choose when to accept new squires. Indeed, Raúl opposed almost all modern adaptations to the traditions of the vampire world that he and his family treasured so highly. When he ultimately voted in favor of the measure, it was clear that more than the family’s ideals were on his mind. Sadie happened to have made close allies with many of the Lucases’ friends in the Americas, and she happened to implore the Lucas family to let her stay with them at their estate in Spain for a few weeks before the vote was to be cast.
She brought her and Charlie’s son Jonathan along on the trip. He was five or six at the time, and he became quick friends with Raúl’s daughter, Patricia. The two spent a good deal of time together those weeks before Sadie was to sail back to the Americas. Sadie assured Raúl that she would encourage their children’s friendship and that perhaps in time it could develop into something deeper. That is, of course, if he was to be brought up like a gentleman.
With his ballot, Raúl Lucas presented a plea to the House for change: “Against the outdated and barbaric practice of forced indoctrination and violence that is no longer necessary in the modern age’s growing safety, stability, and foresight.” A few other holdout traditionalists followed suit with his progressive vision, and the measure passed.
Only Sadie and Raúl truly know the extent of the discussions they had when she visited with Jonathan. To everyone’s joy, the two children did later develop a romance, and Jonathan proposed. Patricia insisted on traveling and living among different cultures of the world before marrying, so Jonathan decided to set out and explore with her. After a decade of travels, their relationship was stronger and definite, and they wed. Raúl Lucas was pleased.
Sadie closes her note warmly and respectfully, and leaves a space for a signature. She prints out the letter and signs it like Raúl would—the old way. In the top drawer of her desk she finds a small, old brass needle. She pushes it into her thumb, and she withdraws it with a bright blossom of red blood. She squeezes her thumb, forcing more blood out of the wound before it heals, and then presses the bloody pad onto the paper. Only for you, Raúl.
After letting the page dry, she scans it and attaches it as an encrypted file to an email to Raúl. She smiles. The flavor of the old, but faster.
She sends the email, returns her focus to the tea in her mug in front of her, and considers whom to write next.
Tomas manages to get a ride into Asheville to meet up with the others. He’s not pleased when he meets Eddy.
“Hey, man, what’s the deal? Getting here wasn’t easy.”
“Well, you got here.”
“Yeah, but I had to get my mom to come out because my brother left early to go hiking. She was kinda ticked off; it’s her birthday weekend.”
Eddy is frustrated. “Tomo, you didn’t have to come. I was just trying to include you.”
Tomas shakes his head. “Never mind... What are we doing here?”
“We’re waiting to get picked up by Craig and Bill, the cousins. Then we…” Eddy squints his eyes and furrows his brow. “Actually I don’t know, exactly, just that we’re going to take out some zombies.”
Tomas looks concerned. “Yeah, I don’t like NOT having a tight plan. Dude, zombies kind of kill people—a lot of people.”
Eddy reassures him with a hand gesture. “Well, Craig and Bill and Jess and them all, they have it all figured out. It’s just that I haven’t asked them about all the details yet. I do know that we’ll be spl
it in two cars, so you and I can ride together.”
Tomas fidgets, trying to figure out where to put his hands. “Well, I want to help, but, umm—” He glances over his shoulder looking for Jess or Joe. He doesn’t see them. “This is serious, dude. It’s dangerous.”
DUDE. I’m a vampire. It’ll be fine. Eddy nods to show he understands, then smiles and leans closer to Tomas. “Trust me, I’ve got your back. This is going to be a walk in the park.”
Tomas can’t help but frown and look away. He glances down at his feet. He realizes that didn’t dress for killing zombies; he dressed to hang out with his friends. He wore his new school sneakers—a clean white-and-red pair of running shoes with bright-red laces. He looks back up to Eddy. “Tell you what: if I go zombie, take me out before I mess up my kicks.”
Eddy laughs at him, assuming he is joking. “Deal, bro!”
They walk out of the bookstore as Joe jogs by. “Eddy, we gotta go!”
Eddy looks up, surprised. “They’re here?”
Joe looks at Tomas. “Hey, Tomo.”
“Hey, Joe.”
Eddy asks, “When did they get here?”
“Like ten minutes ago. We texted you, c’mon hurry up!”
Joe leads the way as Eddy and Tomas follow behind, weighed down by their backpacks. Outside, Craig has parked his Explorer illegally in a bus lane, and he has the flashers on. Jess is sitting up front with him, leaving the backseat empty.
Jess hollers out the window when she sees them coming. “Jeez, Eddy, what the hell? Hurry up!”
“Sorry!” Eddy hops in the back with Joe and Tomas.
Craig pulls out quickly, and Jess turns around to face the backseat. She’s wearing her grumpiest face. “Dude, we texted you, like, three times.”
Eddy throws his hands up. “I didn’t see ’em. I was talking with Tomo—sorry!”
“Well, we’re going to be late.” Jess turns back around and checks the GPS.
Craig checks his mirrors as he starts to speed. “Roger’s gonna be pissed.”
Eddy sighs, then looks at the GPS. It says they’ll arrive at their destination in thirty-five minutes. “Where are we going? And we’re meeting Sophia there?”
Jess rolls her eyes. “Yeah, she’ll be there, lover boy.”
“Hey!” Eddy doesn’t like where this is going. “I’m just curious what the plan is. Where are we going?”
Craig looks at Jess. “You didn’t tell him the plan?”
She looks back at him “What am I—in charge of this thing?”
Craig sighs. You’ve got a lot to learn, girl. He glances toward the back of the truck. “We’re meeting my buddy Roger. He’s got a big-ass SUV—can’t remember what kind, some foreign job—but anyway, he’ll be driving that, and I’ll be driving ol’ Colombo here.” He rubs his hand along the dash.
Tomas can’t help himself. “Colombo?”
Craig laughs. “Yup, Cristo Colombo, the explorer… You get it?”
There’s a collective moan of recognition.
Craig nods and chuckles. “Anyway, we’ll have two squads. Each squad will have a driver, a radio-op/navigator, and two shooters.”
Jess turns to the backseat and picks up where Craig left off. “Eddy, it’ll be me, Joe, and Bill in the car with Roger, and then you, Sophia, and Tomo—” she smiles and shakes her head in a funny way, “—in Colombo.”
Eddy looks at Tomas. “I guess you’ll be the navigator then?”
Tomas shrugs. He’s relieved. It sounds like a decent job; at least I won’t have to shoot anybody. He looks into the front at Jess. She’s cracking her knuckles. He sits up straighter. “Cool, I’ll be navigator. I’m glad to help.”
Craig elaborates. “The navigator and radio operator will be like a copilot, and will handle the communication between the squads with the walkies.” He relaxes as he checks the mirrors again, finally subduing his frustration at being late. “This is gonna be awesome!”
Joe turns to Eddy and Tomas. “I’m also going to be a navigator/radio-op. Oh, Craig, are the walkies in the back?”
“Yeah, in the black bag, uh, on the driver’s side.”
Joe unbelts himself and leans over the middle seats. The last row of seats has been folded down, leaving a large flat area that is filled up with bags of gear. There’s a large container of water bottles, a few gun cases and ammo cans, a toolbox, the kids’ backpacks, and a small black bag in the corner, on the driver’s side. Joe rummages through the bag and finds the walkies. He comes back to his seat and hands one to Eddy. “Check these out. Aren’t they sweet?”
Eddy looks at the walkie. It looks modern and smaller than he expected. “Huh, what’s their range?”
Joe shrugs.
Craig answers. “About twenty miles! The trucks shouldn’t ever be that far apart, so we should be good.”
Eddy looks more closely at the walkie-talkie. Miles apart? What the hell are we doing miles apart? Where are we even going? “So, uh, I still don’t know what we’re doing or where we’re going.” He hands the walkie back to Joe. “Jess, fill me in please?”
She turns around again to face him. She’s more relaxed now and even shows some excitement. “Okay, so here’s the plan: the two trucks are gonna split up, drive all around the edges of the towns west of Asheville—blasting music, honking the horn, and sniping the zombies. As we go—”
Craig cuts her off. “The militia does this over in Knoxville. Roger told me about the strategy. He’s mapping the routes we’ll take.”
Jess continues. “The gunfire should draw more zombies out toward us, and we just keep driving and sniping. Like old-school gladiator carriages with the spear thrower in the back, but with scoped rifles, walkie-talkies, and, uh—” she smiles and throws a thumb over her shoulder to the dash, “—faster, stronger carriages. We’ll rack up the bodies.”
Eddy nods in approval. Not a bad idea. Seems safe, seems efficient, seems like, yeah, a good idea. Every zombie put down can make the difference—can save a life.
Eddy remembers Charlie’s instructions on strategy. Step one: Secure the ground. In this case, I guess the ground is the truck. “How are we shooting them? Out the windows?”
Craig glances back with a smile. “Two shooters riding in the back, each at a window, and there’s always the sunroof in case we get a congo line goin’.”
It’s conga. Eddy looks up; there’s a sizable sunroof that someone could stand up through.
Joe looks at Tomas, laughing and singing the beat of the song while alternating his shoulders back and forth. “Duh-duh-duh-duh-duh—da!”
Tomas shakes his head, unimpressed. Ay, caramba.
Eddy is imagining shooting zombies from the windows, and then he imagines the truck stopping at an intersection or something and zombies climbing onto the truck. “What if they catch up and climb on the car?”
Tomas looks out the window, imagining clawing, decaying ex-humans outside the glass. What did I get myself into?
Craig acts like it’s a stupid question. “Ummmm, you push the button and roll up the windows? If anything bad happens, we can just stay in the trucks and drive away.”
Eddy considers that scenario. If things get dicey, they roll up the windows and drive away. That seems fine; the zombies won’t be able to bust through the glass. He thinks about the next of Charlie’s battle logistics.
Step two: Acquire strategic advantage. What are our advantages? Me and Sophia—two vampires that are good at killing things, two trucks with drivers, two shooters in each vehicle to cover one another, and a dedicated navigator and radio operator who keep the vehicles in communication and on the right track. That sounds pretty strong, and we’re against some brainless zombies that have no armor, no ranged weapons, and they’re on foot. Eddy nods. I’m liking this more and more.
Step three: Final assessment. What can go wrong? Well, if anything does, we button up the windows and drive away. What else? Think…
Eddy looks around—first at the truck, then at the people
inside. Someone could get hurt. Maybe an accident or something? Maybe hitting a bump and somebody hits their head? Eddy clears his throat. “I’ve got one more question. What if something goes wrong inside the truck?”
Jess looks back at him. “Like?”
“Like an accident and somebody is hurt, or we’re stranded or something.”
Joe holds up the walkie-talkie but doesn’t touch the Talk button. “-Krghrrghh- Eagle to Nest, Eagle to Nest, we need evac at oh-eight-hundred.”
Craig bursts into laughter. “Right idea, Joe ma man, but ‘oh-eight-hundred’ means eight a.m.!”
Jess laughs and shakes her head.
Joe also laughs. “Oh! Well, you can tell me what to say then!”
“Will do, little buddy, will do.”
It seems that the only people not laughing are Tomas and Eddy. Eddy looks over at him. “Tomo, what do you think?”
He looks out the window. This can be it. This can be the moment when we make a difference. Jess will see, Eddy will see; they’ll all see. ¡Pero, mierda! Qué locura. He takes a breath and turns to Eddy. “It sounds like it’s well thought out. I mean, what do you think?”
Eddy’s lip curls into a grin. “It seems good to me. We can do it.”
It’s late in the afternoon when Mary collects her things and prepares to leave. While she packs, she thinks about the family that has hosted her: her old friends Sadie and Charlie, their darling daughter, and their rebellious son. In another life, she was in a family not too different.
She sighs. Not all stories have happy endings. Sometimes life just sucks. She looks at the desk where she set down her golden snake pin. She picks it up and studies it, the detailed body and sharp needle glinting in the light. She positions the pin on the left side of her chest. Right over the heart. She stabs the needle through her shirt but nicks herself. “Ah!” She pulls the shirt away from her body, tearing the needle from the skin. Don’t bleed on the blouse! She pulls the collar down, looking inside at the material. Oh, good. Didn’t.
A tiny drop of blood forms on her skin at the tear. She watches it for a few seconds, and then the wound closes and heals over. She works her hand inside her shirt, rubs the needle to make sure no blood lingers there, then smears the blood dry onto her chest. She takes her hand back out, the fingers with a small red stain on them. She licks them and rubs in saliva, removing any visible trace as her fingers dry.
