by Bill Myers
“We’ve still got another alley scene to shoot. She can be rehearsing for it there. No one will question that. But someone will have to go over the lines with her to make it look good.”
“That’s perfect,” Ryan exclaimed. “Jaimie and I will be rehearsing alone in the alley. Then, when we think the time is right, I’ll leave as if I’m going to get us a can of pop or something, and Jaimie will wait there alone.”
“I could be standing just inside the warehouse door,” Becka said.
“And I’ll head down the block like I’m leaving,” Ryan continued. “But then I’ll double back, and when the vampire goes into the alley, we spring the trap.”
Becka nodded. “As soon as the vampire starts toward Jaimie, I’ll throw open the door and pull Jaimie inside, where it’s safe.”
“Meanwhile,” Tim said, “I’ll be waiting in the truck. And when he goes into the alley, I’ll quickly back up and block the entrance.”
“Right,” Ryan agreed. “As soon as I pour the water, you start the truck. And when I get the crucifixes all laid down, you back it up.”
The thought of using superstitious solutions still made Becka uneasy, but Ryan seemed so set on them . . .
“I’ll put the word out as soon as we fill Jaimie in on the plan,” Tim said. “It sounds pretty foolproof. Simple and straightforward.”
But even as he finished the sentence, a worried silence settled over the group. What would happen to Jaimie if they failed?
“It’s not a bad plan,” Ryan offered.
It was Becka who said what they were all feeling: “For Jaimie’s sake, it had better be a great one.”
“This place gives me the creeps,” Rebecca said as the front door to the warehouse creaked open. “I’m glad you’re here with me.”
“It’s not so bad,” Tim said, shining his flashlight around the room. “It’s just old.”
It was a little after seven o’clock, and most of the cast and crew were at dinner. Word had spread that rehearsals for the upcoming alley scene would take place in the alley next to the Dominski warehouse. Tim had worked out an arrangement with the manager and had even sent a couple of electricians over to the alley to rig up some rehearsal lights. Then, while everyone else was eating dinner, he drove one of the production trucks over to the front of the alley. Once it was in position, he and Becka entered the warehouse.
After fumbling for the light switch, Tim finally turned it on. “There. Not so bad, huh?”
Shiny metal rectangles hanging from large wooden pegs on the wall filled the front part of the musty old shop. Some of the rectangles were copper, some were bronze, some polished chrome, but all were about the same size. “Wonder what these are for,” Becka said as they walked by.
“They look like handles to me,” Tim said. “Yeah, that’s what they are. See, this piece here fits over the rectangle, and the other end attaches to the box.”
“What box?” Becka asked as they rounded the corner toward the part of the shop that faced the alley. She hesitated a moment. It was dark in there, and she wasn’t about to go in first.
“Don’t you know?” Tim said as he turned the corner, shining his flashlight. Becka waited as he took a couple more steps into the room. “Didn’t you see this place before?”
“Not really,” Becka said. “I just talked to the manager about it. When he showed me the door, we were outside in the alley.”
“So you don’t know what they make here?” Tim said as he reached the wall, searching for the light switch. As he did, his flashlight exposed glimpses of metal boxes stacked about the room.
“I tried to look up the word that comes after Dominski on the sign out front in the hotel bookstore, but the closest I got was some kind of container. I figured it’s the Dominski Container Company or something like that.”
“Close,” Tim said as he found the light switch and turned it on. “It’s the Dominski Casket Company.”
Becka’s mouth dropped open. All around her were stacks and stacks of metal caskets. All sizes and types, waiting to be shipped out.
“Listen,” Tim said, “I’d better be going.”
“What?” Becka croaked. “Can’t you stay, you know . . . a little longer?”
There was no missing the amusement in Tim’s voice. “You’ll be okay, kid. Ryan and Jaimie will be heading into the alley any second. I’ve got to take my post inside the truck before someone sees me.”
Becka forced herself to swallow and tried to nod. As long as the light was on, she didn’t feel too bad. Still, she found herself whispering a quiet prayer that the caskets with their long lids wouldn’t suddenly start popping open.
“Okay, then.” Tim turned and started for the door. “I’ll be shutting these lights off now and — ”
“Shutting the lights off?” Becka interrupted, her voice cracking even more.
“I have to. You can see the light under the door from the alley. It could scare him off before we even spring the trap.”
“I’m not too worried about scaring him off,” Becka said. “He doesn’t seem like he’d be that easily scared.”
“True,” Tim said. “But a vampire’s senses are supposed to be highly attuned, so we’d better be extra careful.”
Becka wanted to say something, but at the moment she didn’t much trust her voice.
Seeing the expression on her face, Tim reached into his satchel. “Don’t worry,” he said, “I brought an extra flashlight.”
Becka gratefully accepted it, but as Tim turned off the lights and left, she began to shiver. She tried to tell herself it was just the cold, but of course she knew better.
The front door closed with a dull thud. The sound echoed about the caskets.
She was all alone. Everything was silent.
For a moment she thought she heard something. A quiet rustling over in the far corner.
Probably just a rat, she thought. But for some reason, the idea gave her little comfort.
Then there were the coffin lids. What would happen if one or two or a dozen started opening?
Maybe it was her overactive imagination, or maybe it was the rodents she heard scampering around the coffins, but more than once she thought she saw moving shadows.
Of course, when she shined her light in that direction, she saw nothing.
She just hoped it would stay that way.
Carefully, she approached the inside of the alley door, shining her light over every square inch of floor in front of her.
She could see a small slot between the bars on the door and pressed her face against it to peer through and view a small portion of the alley. The lights the crew had rigged up cast a dim glow outside, but the shadows overpowered the light.
Becka took a breath to steady herself and wondered when Ryan and Jaimie would show. Her heart pounded already, and they’d barely begun. She wanted this whole thing to be over as quickly as possible. In fact, she wished she had never even given in to the plan.
There was another noise behind her. Faint scampering.
She spun the flashlight around, but nothing was there. The strange noises worried her the most. And, of course, the caskets. And, of course, the shadows she kept thinking she saw move atop them.
Then she heard scraping gravel. And voices.
Becka eased closer to the door. Through the slot, she could see Ryan and Jaimie approaching.
Finally.
As they approached, Jaimie rehearsed her lines. Pretending to be the character in the film, she walked through the alley with a slight swirl and sashay. It was easy to imagine her in the long and flowing dress she would wear in the actual filming.
“Why are you so shy, David?” she said, hardly glancing at the script. “Do you no longer desire me because of my wounds?”
For a moment there was silence as Ryan fumbled for his place in the script. “Of course I do,” he finally said, slightly overacting his part. “It’s just that I . . . I don’t want to . . .”
“Well, come closer, t
hen,” Jaimie cooed.
Becka felt herself bristle at the sound of Jaimie’s voice. Even now, as they waited for the vampire, it was obvious that the girl was coming on to Ryan.
And she knew Becka was watching.
Becka could see Ryan moving next to Jaimie. His voice caught as he spoke. “My feelings haven’t changed, but I don’t want to take advantage of you. I don’t want — ”
“You’re not taking advantage of me,” Jaimie said. And with that she reached up and caressed Ryan’s cheek.
As Becka watched the scene, her anger grew. Did Jaimie really have to pick this scene to rehearse? And did she really have to touch Ryan like that?
As if reading her thoughts, Ryan cast a glance toward the door. “I . . . uh, I only hope that we can resume our romance the way it was before that terrible attack on you.”
Jaimie took a step toward him and reached up to slide her arm around his neck.
Becka couldn’t believe her eyes. The girl was about to kiss him!
But at the last second Ryan backed off.
“What are you doing?” Jaimie asked.
Ryan fumbled through his script, looking for the line.
Jaimie shook her head. “Ryan, what are you doing? You’re not supposed to pull away. This is where I bite your neck.”
“It is?” Ryan looked confused.
“Yes, this is where I start to cross over and become a vampire. You don’t pull away until you feel my lips on your neck . . . Then you pull back.”
“Oh yeah, uh, okay.” Ryan nodded.
For a brief moment Becka thought about throwing open the alley door, grabbing Ryan, and letting the real vampire attack Jaimie. Her self-control got the better of her, but barely.
“You know what?” Ryan spoke just a little too loudly, as if he wanted to be overheard. “I’m pretty thirsty. Do you mind if I get something to drink?”
He was moving to the next step of the plan. Becka glanced at her watch. It was a few minutes earlier than they had scheduled, but for obvious reasons she was grateful he had decided to move things up.
Jaimie said what she was supposed to say, “All right . . . but would you be a dear and bring something back for me? I want to block out the scene a bit on my own. You know, walk it through and decide where I’m going to say what.”
“Sure,” Ryan said, once again just a little too loudly. “I’ll run down to that store in the next block and be right back. You’ll be okay . . . all alone . . . the only one here in the alley.”
Becka almost smiled. Ryan was doing his best, but Tom Cruise he wasn’t.
“I’ll be fine,” Jaimie said.
“Okay,” Ryan said. “I am leaving now. Don’t worry; you will be all right.” With that he turned and headed down the alley.
It was time for Becka to make her move. Carefully, and ever so quietly, she unbolted the alley door so she could fling it open and yank Jaimie in when the vampire attacked.
She glanced down at her fingers and noticed they were already trembling.
Outside in the alley, Jaimie pretended to rehearse her lines as she walked and paced out the scene.
Other than her soft tones and the slightest scuff of her shoes in the alley, everything was very quiet.
The trap was set and waiting.
Then Becka heard it. A dragging, shuffling kind of sound. Something moved down the alley in their direction.
She grabbed the door handle and held her breath.
Through the crack, she could see Jaimie’s body tense. She’d heard the sound too.
The noise stopped.
Jaimie lowered her voice to a mere whisper as she recited her lines, pretending she hadn’t heard.
A full minute passed, and everything remained silent.
Maybe he’d moved on. Maybe he’d sensed it was a trap.
Jaimie turned and stole a look up the alley. Becka heard her gasp, then saw her draw her hand up to her mouth.
He was there!
Jaimie, who was several yards from the warehouse door, began backing up.
“Who are you?” she called out. “What do you want from me?”
Becka could hear nothing in reply. The vampire did not respond. Instead, the scraping of gravel resumed.
It was approaching.
Becka scrunched to the side for a better look but could see nothing.
More scuffing sounded as Jaimie continued backing up toward the warehouse door.
It was obvious the vampire was moving in.
Then through the crack, in the shadowy light, Becka saw him! The same creature she had seen attack Jaimie in the alley their first night in Transylvania. The same creature she had seen suspended in midair outside her hotel window.
Jaimie continued backing toward the door, only eight feet away now.
The vampire appeared to be in no hurry. In fact, he matched her step for step. Every time she took a step backward, he took a step forward.
Jaimie glanced toward the door. It was obvious she was thinking of making a run for it. It was also obvious that at this distance the vampire could overtake her before she made it.
In the dim shadows, Becka could see Jaimie starting to tremble. She wondered if the girl would even have the strength to take the last remaining steps.
“W-why . . . ,” Jaimie stuttered. “Why are you doing this? Why me?” Her voice cracked with each syllable.
But the vampire did not answer. He did not even blink his fierce yellow eyes.
He just kept approaching.
She was five steps away now.
Becka’s grip tightened on the door. Any second now.
There! There it was. The sound of a truck starting up!
The vampire spun around.
Becka pressed against the door for a better look. In the distance she could see Ryan’s form spring into view. He dumped the large pitcher of water across the alley entrance.
The vampire growled, distracted.
This was the moment. Now Jaimie was to break for the door. But she appeared paralyzed, unable to move.
“Come on, Jaimie,” Becka whispered. “Move! Get closer. Get closer.”
Jaimie stumbled backward another step. Then another.
Good. She was within reaching distance.
It was now or never. Becka slammed against the door to throw it open.
But it was stuck!
She threw her shoulder into it again.
It wouldn’t budge.
She pushed harder, banging against it with all of her might.
It didn’t move.
“Rebecca!” It was Jaimie. Crying for help. She had arrived at the door and was banging on it. “Let me in!”
Becka panicked. Through the slot she saw the vampire make his move. His cape billowing out behind him like giant wings, he started toward the girl.
“Becka!”
Becka slammed against the door again.
Jaimie continued banging. “Help me!”
Then Becka saw it. One of the bolts was still locked in place. With trembling hands she clumsily pushed it aside and threw open the door.
The vampire was nearly there.
Jaimie screamed as Becka grabbed her and yanked her inside.
She reached for the door to pull it shut, and for a brief second, she stood face-to-face with the vampire. He was three feet away, reaching for her. His eyes glowed with hate. She pulled the door with all of her might.
It slammed shut with a loud thud . . . which was immediately followed by another thud as the vampire slammed into the door.
Becka fumbled with the bolts, sliding them into place.
“There!” she cried.
SLAM!
The vampire hit the door again with such force that she thought she saw the steel actually give a little.
Both girls turned and raced toward the front of the warehouse. They flew down the hall, running for their lives as the vampire slammed into the door a third time.
Within seconds, they made it to the other side of the
shop and out the front entrance to the street.
Immediately Becka spotted Ryan laying down the last of the dozen crosses. He jumped out of the way just as Tim finished parking the truck, sealing off the alley. Tim climbed out of the truck and yelled, “You girls okay?”
Becka nodded and shouted, “Have you got him?”
“We’ve got him,” Tim shouted as he headed around the front of the truck. “He can’t get out.”
“Let’s take a look,” Ryan said.
The alley was completely blocked by the long truck, so they had to crawl over the front bumper to squeeze inside.
“Where is he?” Becka asked. She was more than a little nervous as she arrived at Ryan’s side.
Their eyes scanned the dim alley. There was no sign of the vampire. Anywhere.
“Look at that door,” Ryan said, motioning down the alley to the steel door. “It’s really bent up.”
“Shine your lights in all the dark areas,” Tim ordered. “Make sure he’s not hiding.”
Both Becka and Ryan pointed their flashlights into all the shadows.
Nothing.
“Wait!” Ryan yelled. “Over to the left. Something’s moving!”
Becka moved her beam to join his. He was right. Something was moving in the shadows.
Suddenly their beams caught it in the light.
“It’s a bat!” Tim cried.
And it was. Exposed now and in the light. The creature’s wingspan was nearly a yard wide, and the thing flew straight at them.
“Duck!” Becka shouted.
Jaimie screamed as they all hit the pavement.
But the giant bat rose and headed over the truck. They spun around and watched it fly high over their heads and deep into the night.
Everyone was breathing hard, but it was Ryan who finally spoke. “We lost him.”
“And he was real,” Becka said, shaking her head in amazement. “There’s no question about it now. He’s a real vampire.”
7
The words hung on the screen for what seemed like an endless length of time.
Vampires do not exist.
Rebecca simply stared at them. She couldn’t believe Z was so stubborn. It reminded her of the arguments she used to have with her dad. Back when he was alive. Back when he knew he was right and stuck to his guns regardless of what she said.
