Jane Jones

by Caissie St. Onge

  seventeen

  I flew through the front doors of Port Lincoln High without looking back to see if Timothy and Dr. Erdos were keeping up. The slap of my sneakers echoed off the walls in the dim and deserted entrance hall. I charged up the stairs two at a time, never letting up despite the burning in my atrophied legs. When I got to the doorway of Ms. Smithburg’s class, I saw Astrid’s long, shimmering waves but could not see my brother. As soon as I threw open the door, Astrid jerked around to face me, and there was Zach, his neck squeezed under her arm with his own scrawny wrists bound behind his back. “Jane,” he rasped, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

  A moment later, Timothy pelted into the room with Dr. Erdos right behind, gulping and gasping and clutching his weathered briefcase with one hand and his chest with the other. I remembered what it felt like to have a pounding heart and was glad for once that mine could not. Astrid’s perfectly glossed lips broke open into a vulgar grin that revealed her perfectly glistening white fangs. “Jane,” she exclaimed in faux surprise, “you came! And you brought friends! How sweet.”

  “Astrid,” I commanded, “let him go.” She tightened her hold on Zach’s throat, causing him to make a strangled gagging noise. I looked to Timothy and Dr. Erdos. Astrid was certainly a more powerful vampire than I, but between the three of us, surely we could take her. Or could we? Perhaps Timothy and I put together were no match for Astrid, and Dr. Erdos was just a person. There was even a risk that he would be bitten, and that his incredible formula for curing vampirism could die with him. Still, I thought we should go for it and I tried to convey my idea to Almos and Timothy with my eyes, but it was Astrid who could read me. She scanned the desks around her and snatched up a sharpened pencil, aiming the point directly at my brother’s heart. Funny, it had never occurred to me that I should be afraid of pencils, but now that I thought about it, they were nothing more than little wooden stakes you could write with. I dropped the idea of overpowering her.

  “What do you want?” I asked.

  “I just want what you want, Jane,” she replied, trying to sound innocent. “It didn’t take a genius to figure out what you and Timothy were up to.” Well, that was obvious now. “And when I put two and two together and realized today was the big day, I said to myself, ‘Ya know what? I’ll have what she’s having!’ ” She tilted her head to me, awaiting my response, but it was Timothy who spoke up.

  “Astrid,” he said, gently, “I know I’ve hurt you, and I can see that you’re upset. Why don’t you let Jane’s brother go, and you and I can discuss it.” He reached his hand toward her, nervously, but still much like a prince offering to dance with a lady. Astrid scoffed. It was not attractive.

  “Shut up, Timothy,” she sneered. “And stop flattering yourself. I’m not doing this because I looooove you,” she said, glowering. “I’m doing this because I hate Jane. Little Miss Perfect Vampire with the loving family and the great grades plus an undead and a real live boy falling all over themselves to be with her. She simply can’t tolerate drinking one drop of blood and she has a fake eating disorder! Poor baby.” It was no surprise that Astrid hated me, but when I heard the reasons why, it actually sounded like she was kind of jealous. Of me! I would have liked to enjoy that feeling for a second, but Astrid’s testy tirade wasn’t over just yet.

  “Everybody else might be buying your bull, Jones, but not me. I was in the middle of trying to come up with a brilliant plan to wreck your brilliant plan, when your dumb little brother fell right into my lap. What’s his name? Zach? Well, I like to call him Chip, because he’s my little bargaining chip.” Astrid gave Zach’s neck another squeeze for effect, then laughed as Dr. Erdos raised his eyebrows at Timothy. I tried to think of what I should do, inching backward toward the teacher’s anteroom office, wondering if there was something, anything in there that I could use.

  Astrid continued her assault, saying, “Honestly, Tim, I don’t give a shit what happens to you. I just want the cure and you’re gonna give it to me or I’m gonna give Jane’s brother to someone who’s going to do very bad things to him.” I froze as everyone’s eyes turned to me to see how I would respond. I tried to sound tough.

  “Astrid,” I said, “I didn’t know it was possible for someone to be a vampire and a witch. But that’s what you are. A witch. But with a B.” I wasn’t sure, but despite his terrible position, I thought I saw Zach actually roll his eyes at that one. Astrid didn’t seem as rattled as I’d hoped either, but before she could reply, a loud bang startled us all as the door behind me burst open. I never had a chance to turn and see who it was, but from the hands that had suddenly wrapped around my throat, I got a pretty good idea. Then I heard her voice and I knew for sure.

  “Welcome to my class, everyone,” said Ms. Smithburg. Ruth Pike. Besides the choking, I felt a cold jabbing a few inches below my jaw. I strained my eyes to see the source, and once they focused, I could see that my American history teacher was holding a syringe filled with red fluid. Blood. Probably not the rare Bombay blood that I drank in small amounts to survive either. I was guessing it was just the regular kind of blood that I was allergic to. Even if I had thought to bring in the bag with my medicine in it, which was still sitting on the backseat of Dr. Erdos’s rental car, the amount of blood aimed at my jugular looked sufficient to render me incapacitated in a pretty bad way. Probably worse off than old Turner Pike.

  So, this was great. Out of six people in a room, the two of us who were Joneses were both in headlocks with deadly implements aimed at us. It was something of a standoff. Astrid looked like she was about to have a temper tantrum.

  “What are you doing here?” she shrieked at Ms. Smithburg. “I told you I would take care of it!”

  “I know you did,” Ms. Smithburg replied, “but I have trust issues. Forgive me, dear. I’ll take young Mr. Jones off your hands now.” But Astrid didn’t budge. Now the allies looked like enemies too.

  “You were right not to trust her,” I croaked. “She was never going to give him to you.” Timothy and Dr. Erdos looked at me, wild-eyed. At some point, both of them had put their hands up like this was a bank robbery. It wasn’t exactly confidence-inspiring.

  “Lame’s right,” Astrid hissed. “I know I told you that I would help you get the kid, because I wanted to stick it to his dear, dear sister. But then I thought, What’s in it for me? I don’t even take American history, so it’s not like you can even give me an A for my trouble. Even if you could, it’s not like I care about my grades, right? Then, when I figured out that Jane and Timothy were cashing in his fortune to pay for this doctor’s cure for vampirism, I decided I wanted that and the brat was the perfect way to get it.”

  I couldn’t see Ms. Smithburg’s face, but I could feel her rapid exhalation on the top of my head as she said, “A cure? For vampirism? That cannot be.”

  Dr. Erdos spoke for the first time since he’d entered the room. “No, it is true. I have been vorking many years and my treatment is effectiff.” I’d have preferred it if he’d saved the sales pitch for another time, but I guess I couldn’t blame him for being psyched about his discovery. He continued, “Is prohibitively expensive for many of your kind, but Timosee”—he nodded to Timothy—“was able to come up with ze necessary funds for two doses, for him und young Chane.” Then, ever so slightly, it felt like Ms. Smithburg loosened her grip around my neck.

  “But Jane is sick with a rare condition. Did she tell you that?” Ms. Smithburg asked Dr. Erdos. For a second, I thought the woman who was threatening to end me had a change of heart and was now trying to protect me. Only for a second, though. Until Dr. Erdos nodded and replied.

  “Ze treatment offers complete rewersal of the wampirism,” he explained. “It restores the subject to the same degree of health zey enchoyed as human.” I knew word of mouth was the best advertising, but I really started to wish that Dr. Almos Erdos would shut his big one. He smiled patronizingly at Ms. Smithburg and she slackened her grip even further. Then she remembered herself and clamped
down on my neck tighter than ever.

  “Then give it to me,” she said, “and I’ll let young Jane go.” Timothy looked at me, but I had nothing for him. This was a lose-lose situation. Actually, it might have been a lose-lose-lose situation, if that was possible. Timothy’s shoulders sagged and he gestured in resignation to Ms. Smithburg.

  “Give it to her,” Timothy said to Dr. Erdos, who reacted with a look of utter shock. “Do it!” As Dr. Erdos carefully withdrew the two glass vials from the safety of his jacket’s inner pocket, Astrid’s face crumpled into a mask of bitter hatred.

  “What?” Astrid wailed. “You have got to be effing kidding me!” I swiveled my head to see my baby brother, still completely at Astrid’s mercy, and she frankly didn’t look all that merciful right now. I mouthed a silent prayer that an opportunity to rescue Zach would present itself, and fast.

  As Dr. Erdos proffered the test tubes to my captor, she flung the syringe of blood to the floor and released me with a violent shove. I fell in a heap at Timothy’s feet, fighting to catch my breath. We all watched in awe as Ms. Smithburg held the two glass tubes in either hand. She used her fangs to uncork one and drank the entire contents in one greedy gulp. I glanced briefly around the room and couldn’t help noticing that even though things had gone horribly wrong for us, Dr. Erdos looked weirdly thrilled. His eyes were wide and he beamed as he clapped his beefy hands together in anticipation. Then the sound of breaking glass recaptured my attention as Ms. Smithburg tossed the empty vessel on the floor, where it burst into tiny glittering splinters of glass. She wiped at her mouth with the back of her hand and gave a throaty, evil chuckle.

  “I hate to drink and run,” Ms. Smithburg said, “but if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be bringing this home to my husband.” She held the second tube aloft and the late-afternoon sun shone through the clear solution inside.

  “Oh, no,” Dr. Erdos said, cutting short Ms. Smithburg’s moment of triumph. All of our eyes turned to him. “I’m afraid zere isn’t time for you to go anyvhere. Unless you can get to him wizin—” The doctor checked his watch. “Wizin eight minutes? Othervise, it vill no longer be effectiff.” For a second I stared at her, wondering how she would react. I knew that she knew there was no way she could make it to Fairhaven within eight minutes. Then I remembered to give Dr. Erdos a super-dirty look for not just letting her go. He shrugged at me as if to say, Sorry, Chane. I’m un blabbermouse. I shook my head in disbelief.

  “Tough luck, Teach.” Astrid’s mood had vastly improved in the last few seconds, because she’d seen her opportunity. “Interested in making a trade?”

  “No!” I shouted, but it was futile. I watched in horror as Astrid lowered the pencil from where she’d been poking Zach in his ribs and handed him over to Ms. Smithburg in exchange for the remaining vial of Dr. Erdos’s cure. Ms. Smithburg held my brother in front of her tightly, as if he was shielding her from imminent danger. Astrid pulled the rubber stopper out of the vial and held it up.

  “I’d like to propose a toast,” Astrid brayed. “To Timothy and Jane and the good doctor who made this all possible. I think what I’m going to do is drink this, right? Then, I’m going to take off for Hollywood and become a famous actress. Then, after six or seven years, when I’m in my prime, I’m going to go vampire again. Ha-ha! I’m going revamp! Then, I’ll be eternally beloved and hot.…”

  For someone who only had a few minutes to play with, Astrid sure was taking her ridiculous time before drinking the damn thing. Obviously, she was ramping up the drama. I hated to admit it, but she probably would make a great actress. I tore my attention away from Astrid’s spontaneous monologue to check on my poor little brother. Intent on coming up with a last-ditch plan to get him away from Ms. Smithburg, it took me a moment to realize what I was seeing. And what I was seeing was something incredible.

  The arm that Ms. Smithburg had wound around Zachary’s throat was no longer alabaster and smooth. It was dark. Black, in fact. And was that faint smoke rising from the surface of her skin? I blinked my eyes to make sure I wasn’t hallucinating, but it was true. As everyone was watching Astrid ham it up, I was watching a horrific color creep up Ms. Smithburg’s arm, while the ends of her fingers took on the look of a burnt log in a fireplace, right before the embers collapse into ash.

  “So, bottoms up!” Astrid concluded, and made a big show of raising the test tube higher, then bringing it to her lips. Impulsively, I sprang up and slapped the vial out of Astrid’s hand, spilling its entire contents as it crashed to the floor. Astrid roared and lunged at me, but I dodged her blow.

  “Zachary!” I yelled. “Run!” For a brief moment, my brother looked at me, confused; then he put his head down and threw his weight against Ms. Smithburg’s cruel embrace. A cracking noise rang out and we all stood in stunned awe as her blackened arms snapped off like brittle branches and clattered to the floor, then crumbled. Astrid forgot all about trying to murder me as Ms. Smithburg’s body, inch by inch, rapidly became petrified, then desiccated. The affliction traveled up her neck and she was able to see with her own still-working eyes as the lower part of her face became coal-like, then broke away. When the transformation was complete, Ms. Smithburg’s figure stood there for a moment, resembling a wooden mannequin or totem that had been burned; then she fell into a mound of dust.

  Astrid looked from the pile to me to Timothy and back to the pile, breathing through her mouth without speaking. I’m sure she was just trying to think of the nicest possible way to say, “Thanks for saving my miserable life, Jane. You really shouldn’t have.”

  I hugged Zach to my chest with one arm, and reached my other arm out to take Timothy’s hand and squeeze it. It was impossible to look away from the heap of cinders that was once Ms. Smithburg. We stared in disbelief, when suddenly, the top layer of my powdered history teacher began to swirl and dance as if it were still somehow alive. But it was only being blown by a breeze from an open window. A window that Dr. Almos Erdos had opened sometime during the chaos. A window that Dr. Almos Erdos had used to escape.

  eighteen

  Timothy and I ran to the open window in what was the former Ms. Smithburg’s former classroom just in time to see the nondescript rental car that had driven us to the school scream out of the parking lot with Almos Erdos (probably not his real name) at the wheel.

  I barely had the courage to look Timothy in the eye. If it weren’t for me showing him that ridiculous Internet article in the first place, we never would have gotten mixed up with a phony doctor who claimed to have discovered the cure for vampirism, when what he’d actually invented was “liquid stake.” When I put two and two together, based on his delight at Ms. Smithburg’s ingestion of his potion and his quick escape once it had vaporized her, it was now obvious to me that he was a freelance vampire hunter who was out to find a couple of bloodsucking suckers and kill them, while making a quick bundle of cash to boot.

  On the other hand, if it weren’t for that article and a big chunk of Timothy’s fortune, my family would be fleeing for Zach’s life now. My emotions were mixed, but my guilt was full strength.

  “I’m so sorry,” I whispered hoarsely, staring at the empty lot below. Timothy put his hand under my chin and raised my face. He grabbed the sides of my head and leaned in, pressing his full frigid lips to my forehead. The wave of energy that passed from him to me was complex, and I could pick out notes of sorrow and disappointment and maybe even a bit of relief. We gazed at each other, ignoring Astrid’s haughty and snotty muttering across the room.

  “I’m going to follow him, Jane,” Timothy said, “so he doesn’t try to do this to anyone else. I don’t know when I’ll be back, but I hope you’ll be here.” I nodded and watched as he slid out the window and scrabbled down the fire escape in pursuit of the Hungarian murderer and swindler. Then he was gone.

  I turned away from the window, and my little brother, Zach, gave one of those half smiles that isn’t really happy at all but is used to convey pity. I was feeling slightly pitiful,
so I was more than grateful to accept. Astrid, on the other hand, wasn’t feeling quite so generous.

  “FYI, you still make me sick,” Astrid informed me. “And all of this doesn’t mean we’re friends, got it?”

  I got it loud and clear. I’d saved her life, but she would continue to make mine as miserable as she could. I didn’t even bother saying a word to her as she left the room, though perhaps with a bit less swagger than she once had. Perhaps.

  I knelt behind Zach and worked on freeing his hands, which were bound behind his back with strong athletic tape. Once he was loose, I stood up and rubbed his wrists, then hugged him, then leaned back to look at his cute little face, then hugged him again. It was when we were hugging for the second time that we heard the unmistakable squeak, squeak, squeak of sneakers running down the hallway and past our door. A second later, the squeaking stopped, then reversed back toward us just as quickly, until the footwear in question was planted in the doorway, and standing there inside it was Eli Matthews. He let out a small whoop of relief.

  “Eli, what are you doing here?” I asked, shocked to see him. He held up a freckled finger to ask for my patience while he gulped at the air. Then, slightly winded, he began.

  “After … after what happened yesterday (pant, pant) in your kitchen, and when … and when you didn’t make it to school today, I was (deep breath) I was worried,” he said, gradually regaining his composure. “So, I swung by your house … after school. And your parents … your parents were freaking out … because they said you and Zach were both missing.” He put a hand up to his chest, as if he could slow his rapidly beating heart by stroking it like a cat. “So, I offered to help them look for you.”