by Bekka Black
EVIDENCE OF MEDICAL INTERVENTION: NONE
EVIDENCE OF INJURY: PUNCTURE WOUNDS OF NECK: On the left lateral neck at a point 8” below the top of the head and 2 1/2” to the left of the midline, situated in the mid-region of the anterior border of the left sternomastoid muscle, there are two circular, punctate defects approximately 1/4” in diameter. The wounds are symmetric, identical in appearance; it cannot be determined whether the wounding implement consists of a weapon with a double tip, such as a barbecue fork, or whether the injuries represent two separate wounds with a single-tipped weapon with a slender, pointed weapon, such as an ice pick.
A near-bloodless wound track is noted extending into the soft tissues of the neck for a total depth of approximately 1”, penetrating both the internal and external jugular veins on the left side of the neck; there are multiple overlapping defects in both veins, suggesting multiple incomplete withdrawals of the weapon before it was thrust back in again.
The surrounding tissues are nearly bloodless, with minimal extravasation of blood. The lack of damage to the tissues and surrounding skin, and the presence of only two defects makes it unlikely that the injury represents an animal bite; however, swabs were taken of the skin surface and submitted for DNA/forensic biology analysis in the customary manner.
The decedent is effectively bloodless; the body has no lividity, and there is no free blood in the vessels, including the aorta and vena cavae. The viscera are strikingly pale, as is the brain, and there is subendocardial hemorrhage in the left ventricular outflow tract and mucosal petechiae in the renal pelvic mucosa, consistent with terminal hypovolemic shock. By X-ray, there is no retained foreign body in the neck. There is no evidence of cardiac air embolism.
From: Mina Murray
To: Jonathan Harker
Subject: Re: I’m so sorry
Sent: June 25 3:52 PM
* * *
Jonathan,
We have started to investigate ourselves. Here is your status report.
Step l: Get autopsy report from one of the victims of the attacks near the cemetery where Lucy and her mother are buried.
Abe got one. Cause of death: massive blood loss. Only wound: two punctures in the neck. Someone or something is puncturing their necks and draining their blood. They are dying from loss of blood.
Step 2: Get into crypt.
I visited Lucy’s father. He’s a mess. First his wife and now his daughter. I sat with him for about an hour. I don’t know if he’ll get through this. I’m going to keep checking in on him. It seemed to help, at least a little, but it’s so hard to see how broken he is now.
He loaned me the key to Lucy’s crypt. I didn’t tell him why I needed it, and he didn’t ask.
Step 3: See if Lucy’s body is still there. I know, it’s crazy, so don’t lecture me.
Abe and I met in front of the crypt, by the marble lamb. It’s where I used to meet Lucy. I went there so many times with her visiting her mother’s grave that I half expected her to show up. But she didn’t.
Just like Lucy used to do, I unlocked that green metal door, and Abe and I stepped in. It was warm and stuffy inside, and it smelled terrible, like death. All the flowers that went in there after the funeral were dead and brown.
We had to leave the door open to let it air out. I tried not to think about how it must be Lucy making that smell. Lucy, my best friend since kindergarten. It didn’t feel real, but it is.
Abe brought a crowbar, but when we got to her coffin, we froze for a long time. (I mean, breaking open a coffin? I’ve never done anything like that before. What if we got arrested? What if I had to see her body again and it was all rotted? It all felt so wrong and sad and messed up.)
If it had been me, I would have left. But not Abe. He is a man of action.
He broke open her coffin.
It was empty. No Lucy and no Mr. Bubbles.
The logical explanation is that someone stole her body, which is creepy enough, but…if someone took her body, why did they take Mr. Bubbles, too?
In the back of the crypt, where the really old bodies are, we found a large box made out of a black wood and filled with dirt. Remember the ebony boxes the Count had you ship from Romania?
Mina
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From: Mina Murray
To: Jonathan Harker
Subject: Re: I’m so sorry
Sent: June 25 7:26 PM
* * *
Jonathan,
Abe hired some guys to take out the box, and we took a boat into the harbor and dumped the dirt into the ocean (yes, we had to pay them extra as it’s illegal apparently). Afterward we burned the box and scattered the ashes. Some sources say that a vampire must sleep in the soil of his native land to regenerate. I know I’ve gone beyond crazy. It’s all adrenaline and insanity now.
When you get this, call me. I need the address of the house the Count bought in Manhattan. We’re going to see if it has the other two dirt boxes.
I know, it all sounds super nuts and probably is. But, if I’m wrong, what harm can there be in throwing away dirt? (except for the illegal part and also that we’re clearly stealing it, so delete this email)
Call.
Mina
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Text message from Mina Murray to Abe Van Helsing
From: Mina Murray
To: Jonathan Harker
Subject: Re: I’m so sorry
Sent: June 26 2:41 PM
* * *
Jonathan,
It was good to hear your voice, but you sound terrible. I’m sorry I cried on the phone. It’s been hard losing Lucy and then you. Except for Abe, I’m all alone. I miss the Three Musketeers. Here’s your status report. It’s all I can give you right now:
Abe and I went to that address. Door was locked. But Abe called a locksmith who was only too happy to break us in. He didn’t even ask for ID! Abe is really most amazing. I was a nervous wreck. I’m such a goody-goody at the weirdest times.
Inside we found no trace of the Count, but we did find another box of dirt. We had it hauled off and dumped it in the harbor like last time, (expensive!) Whatever the Count was using it for, that’s over. There is only one box left. I don’t know if we could afford more. We both had to stop by the ATM to get enough for this round. There goes months of baby-sitting money. I thought of asking Mom for money, but how can I possibly explain why I need it?
I don’t know what to believe anymore but am acting on faith. What disease do you have? Did the nuns really cure you? Where are Lucy’s body and Mr. Bubbles? Where is the Count? What killed Lucy?
Just found out that Renfield died last night. I called his father, which was just as terrible as you can imagine. But it was the right thing to do. You should call him, too. I know you probably won’t, but you should. Be prepared for him to cry into the phone. And try to suck it up and not cry yourself. I managed but have had a stomachache ever since.
According to the attendants, Renfield talked to himself just before he died using two different voices. One voice begged the other voice for something, and the other voice was angry. The attendants weren’t worried about it. (What would worry them, I wonder?)
Around midnight there was a tremendous banging and crashing. The attendants rushed to check. When they unlocked the door, Renfield was lying in a pool of blood, barely alive.
He was alone in a locked room, so they think he had some kind of fit. They think he smashed himself against the wall a couple of times, then somehow managed to fall out of bed and break his back, (like that sounds logical)
Before Renfield died, he told the attendants the following:
Renfield: Tell Abe Van Helsing that he must find the last box. He must destroy it, to destroy the Count and Lucy and to set me free. Kill the master and the undead fledglings die; the living fledglings are released.
How could Renfield even know about th
e dirt? Unless the Count knows and told him.
And it’s that “unless” that scares me. But Abe is remarkably brave, and I’m sharing his courage. My courage comes and goes. Right now: courage = gone.
Mina
From: Jonathan Harker
To: Mina Murray
Subject: Re: I’m so sorry
Sent: June 26 5:13 PM
* * *
Mina,
I am glad that you are corresponding with me at all. It’s a lot.
I wish I could get out of this damn hospital bed to help you. But my energy level is so low that I need help to get to the bathroom. I have faith in you though. I always knew you were strong, but I didn’t realize how incredibly strong until this happened. You are doing better on your own than you ever did with me.
If anyone can do this, you can. You brought me home from Romania. Dad says you practically did it single-handedly.
Know that I’m always here for you. No matter what happens.
I love you.
J
Text message from Mina Murray to Jonathan Harker
From: Abraham Van Helsing
To: Mina Murray
Subject: Call me, please
Sent: June 27 3:03 AM
* * *
Mina,
When you wake up, please call me and I will come and fetch you. I think we should not be separated from one another. No one should die alone as Renfield did. And, on a lighter note, I also miss you.
I could not sleep, so I went to the university laboratory. I have been checking our blood samples against normal and there is something wrong with the RBCs of Jonathan, Lucy, and Renfield. Not, thank God, with yours or mine yet.
I looked into bats for you. Blood-borne illnesses can be transmitted by bat bites, and not only rabies. In fact, it is now theorized that the Ebola virus lives in species of African fruit bats. They are called a reservoir species because they can carry the virus without immediately dying. Ebola is, of course, quickly fatal to humans (and a host of other mammals as well).
I wish I had a sample of one of the bats. And I still have no idea how the caskets of dirt fit in. Perhaps the Count has pet bats and they feed on something in the soil?
Or if we are willing to throw science to the wind: Renfield is right and we are dealing with something that can’t be cured by scientific means.
Call me, please.
Returning to my microscope,
Abe
Text message from Mina Murray to Abe Van Helsing
Text message from Jonathan Harker to Mina Murray
Text message from Mina Murray to Jonathan Harker
From: Mina Murray
To: Jonathan Harker
Subject: We’re here
Sent: June 27 5:11 AM
* * *
Jonathan,
We stopped by the Count’s Manhattan apartment on the way here (now that we have a key, it’s not that hard). That place is HUGE. Last time I was so focused on getting out that box of dirt that I didn’t notice.
Abe collected up all the shipping paperwork, so I looked up the container number there.
We snuck in at the docks. There were probably security cameras everywhere, but Abe cut a hole through a fence with bolt cutters and we crawled in.
The container is locked, but Abe’s working on it with the bolt cutters. I’m being lookout.
We’ll never get the box of dirt to the water in that amount of time. We’ll have to burn it. It’s just a matter of getting it done before the Count comes back or a security guard catches us. And not incinerating ourselves in the process.
Wish me luck.
Mina
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Text message from Jonathan Harker to Mina Murray
From: Mina Murray
To: Lucy Westenra
Subject: I’m sorry: Part I
Sent: June 27 7:28 PM
* * *
Lucy,
A lot has changed for me in such a short time. I’m not even sure what to say. But I know I owe you an explanation for what happened last night, even though I don’t understand everything. Or anything, really.
We came looking for you and the Count, Abe and I. It was the middle of the night. We wanted to find and destroy the Count’s last box of dirt and end the nightmare. I’d been bitten by that point, but I’m sure you know that. I wasn’t fully turned, and I was sick and weak in a way I hope never to be again. I also had to hide it from Abe. You know how he is.
So we went to the yard and broke open the lock on the Count’s container. That smell is terrible for…
I was going to write “humans.” I guess that’s right.
Abe threw up. He even swore in Dutch, which in spite of everything was kind of cute. Anyway, we had to wait for it to air out. A human frailty that cost us time.
Inside the container we found the last box of dirt. Near the top, where you must have rested your head, was Mr. Bubbles. That’s when I started crying. I knew it meant that you were there. That you were a vampire. And that we would have to kill you. Hard to believe that a little stuffed kitten could mean so much.
But the security guard caught us. Officer Quincy Morris asked us to freeze and put our hands in the air.
Of course Abe and I did, being good citizens.
But you and the Count didn’t, did you? I saw you rise up behind the security guy, past his car.
Abe crossed himself, as if that would have helped. I just stood there staring at you. You were both so terrible and fierce. But to tell the truth? You were beautiful, and I was grateful for a second that you were not dead.
His blood was in my veins, and it started to burn. So I knew it was real and I was in the middle of it and I might never get out. I was scared, but I was also grateful that I might be with you, like all my life, and you would lead me into trouble and out of it again.
That was when the security guy, Officer Morris, shot the Count. How can you blame him? He was scared out of his freaking mind. It didn’t do anything, of course. The bullets just went right through him and pinged off the metal containers. I was scared out of my mind, too. Bullets still kill humans.
The Count put a stop to it. He grabbed the security guy and threw him into his windshield.
Officer Morris lay there like a sack. I almost sensed that he was dead then. I’d never seen anyone killed before. It wasn’t grotesque or loud or even all that bloody, like it is in the movies. It just…was.
Abe grabbed my hand and pulled me away. We ran together. But even after all that, I wasn’t sure that I wanted to run away from you two. I wanted to talk to you. To ask you how it was.
I have to go now. I just heard something. But I’ll send you the next part soon.
Mina
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From: Mina Murray
To: Lucy Westenra
Subject: I’m sorry: Part II
Sent: June 27 8:03 PM
* * *
Lucy,
I’m back. Nothing important. I think my senses are heightened. I’m on edge after last night.
Where was I? We were running.
Abe and I ducked behind Officer Morris’s car. Abe wanted to get inside and drive off. Sensible man, Abe.
But you know what? I knew that if the Count got away I would become a vampire, like you. I was scared but not scared enough. Abe wanted to wait for full daylight, but I asked him to come with me right then so I didn’t have to face you by myself. He took my hand, and we stood up together. The sun had already risen, and I saw you standing in the shadow of the Count’s container. Abe and I were in the sunlight. I know you know this part, but I want you to see it through my eyes anyway.
Abe drew a circle around us with a piece of wood from his pocket and filled it up with liquid. He told me to stay in the circle but didn’t explain why.
It didn’t make sense to
me. The only thing that made sense = you. My best friend was far from me and standing next to a vampire in the dawn in a godforsaken industrial wasteland.
I ignored Abe and I held up Mr. Bubbles for you to see. I wanted you to come take him back. I wanted to tempt you into the sunlight. You kept pacing back and forth in the shadow. I saw that you wanted him, but you were afraid. The Count just watched everything with his thousand-year-old smile.
Suddenly you did run across the sunlight to me. You looked at me and your eyes were gone. You didn’t know me. But you’ve known me all your life. Then you looked at Mr. Bubbles and you really SAW him and for a second I thought everything would be all right again.
You grabbed Mr. Bubbles and I grabbed you. Abe lit the liquid and it blazed up and we were caught in the center of a ring of fire. You couldn’t get out. The Count couldn’t get in. And your eyes were gone again.
You were desperate. You always were, though. I thought you would kill me then, but I held you still enough for Abe to get out his stake. He tried to drive it in, but he wasn’t strong enough.
By then you were suffering and screaming and I knew I had to end it. I didn’t want to. You might have been strong, but you were broken and hurting. I could feel how angry the Count was. He and I thought the same thing: you couldn’t be mended.
So, I helped Abe.
The stake went in and you looked so surprised. But the screaming stopped. You just stared at me as if you’d never seen me before. Never believed that I could do something like that. Even to save my own life.
