by C. M. Murphy
"That can be true and a vampire can be hunting us," Leo said.
"I'm lost," Doug said.
"What psychosis?" Alma asked.
"We have trouble recovering from our deaths," Leo said. "It is not surprising. Many people, even those who cannot remember past lives, have trouble with how they died."
"Even more lost," Doug said.
"Have you ever had something go wrong, and it is not a big deal, but it feels like so much more?" Leo asked, looking at Doug. He was met with a blank stare. "Okay, tell me something small that makes you more angry or sad than is necessary."
"I'm an even-tempered guy," Doug said.
Alma laughed. "Not when someone tries to cut you in line like that guy at the movies."
"That's different. That guy just marched right up to the front of the line, and we'd been waiting for our turn in line for five minutes, and he wants to take our spot. He's supposed to go to the back."
"Ah, that's a good one," Leo said. "What happened when he tried to cut? What did you do?"
"I told him where the end of the line was, and the guy apologized and went to the end of the line."
"But you were really angry, right?"
"Well—" Doug said.
"Yes!" Alma said. "You glared at that guy in the popcorn line and barely calmed down until we were seated for the previews."
"He was a jerk," Doug said, folding his arms across his chest.
"Tell me more about how you felt," Leo said.
"Who does that guy think he is? It's like he's completely oblivious to everyone else," Doug said.
"Did you feel invisible?" Leo asked.
"No," Doug said. "He saw me. He saw all of us in line; he just didn't care. It's like we didn't matter. None of us mattered."
Leo looked to Cassidy, and both of them nodded.
"What?" Doug said, feeling the annoyance of remembering that jerk at the movies and feeling weird about Cassidy and Leo's knowing look.
"That is a big one. We all have it," Cassidy said.
Her statement eased Doug's agitation as Leo continued. "We all think these thoughts like, 'we're invisible' 'we don't matter' 'no one understands us,' etcetera. And it bugs us, because at some point in one of our lives someone didn't see us, or didn't value us, or misunderstood us, and we died. So it rests in the back of our brain, and when it happens, it gives us a shot of that fight-or-flight reflex, because we feel death.
"For people like Cassidy and me, it's even worse because we remember the details of our deaths. So we get even more frightened and angry. Over a few lifetimes, it can turn into a psychosis. Which brings me back to our friend in Bangkok. He had it bad. One of his thoughts was that they were 'out to get him' and that he'd been 'singled out.' He'd been a slave, and one particular master had singled him out and a fellow slave had indeed been out to get him.
"They tortured him mercilessly before he died. And then, in the next life, something very similar happened. The thing about these ideas is that the way we react to try to prevent what we fear from happening seems to make it happen even more. For instance, say you're worried you'll be abandoned, because in one life you were left behind in a storm and died. Well you may try too hard to keep people from leaving you, and in trying too hard and being so desperate, you drive them away."
"This is interesting," Alma said, "but what does this have to do with the vampire?"
"Not much, but a little," Leo said. "Cassidy was a doctor then, and I'd studied philosophy. This was before psychology, which we both studied afterward, but anyway. We had been drawn to medicine and philosophy, because we'd each been troubled by these problems and we were working through them, and we wanted both to help others like us, like Bo, and help ourselves by learning more. We could not help Bo. In the end he sort of turned suicidal, but wouldn't bother killing himself because he'd come back.
"Now, we get to the vampire. When Hooman awakened me, we got to talking about all of us that we haven't been able to find. They do not check in with any of the vault locations to get their money. And we got to remembering Bo. It turns out Hooman had seen Bo the day before he died, and he was in very good spirits. And you know why?" Leo asked.
They all shook their heads.
"Bo said he had a friend who was going to help him. He said this man was like us, but he didn't die. He just lived on, and the man said he could help Bo die for good. He gave him a card and described what the man looked like in case Hooman ever needed the same service, and then he never heard from him again.
"Hooman thought he was crazy, but when Bo never came back, he had always wondered. Like us, he thought maybe his line died out due to the cholera, or he'd started forgetting. But he said he met another former patient of mine, Victoria, two years after I died in Las Vegas. And that patient said she'd met a man who said he would help her die, and she described him as looking the same, and she has not come back either."
"What did he look like?" Alma asked.
"That is what is interesting. He looked just like the man I saw on the street that turned Marcus into dust. Middle-aged, receding hairline with brown hair, white guy. Not too tall or short. Not too fat."
"That could be anybody," Doug said.
"Except the man who killed Irene, you, and my mom," Alma said.
"It is not?" Leo asked, dumbfounded by her revelation.
"The man who killed Irene—she called him James, and he had a full head of black hair, looked thirty-five years old, and was at least six feet tall."
"So there is more than one," Leo said. "That makes sense, but—" Leo stopped himself from finishing that thought. "It is time for another drink."
Chapter Fifteen
Alma sat legs crossed on the white carpeted floor of Professor Cassidy's study and attempted to meditate her way into controlled time travel. Her back ached, and the relaxing sound of trickling water from the small fountain annoyed her. Alma opened her eyes and glared at Leo meditating across from her. His serene expression combined with his relaxed yet perfect posture irked her.
"This isn't working," Alma said. "Why can't I lie down and do this?"
"It is meditation, not napping," Leo said, opening up his eyes.
Alma's promise to her aunt not to fall asleep echoed in her mind. This was craziness—ineffective craziness. "I told you the other times, it just happened. I would hold an object, and it would happen. It worked fine."
"You wandered randomly throughout time and space and almost got trapped, possibly smothered by the floating tendrils of power from one of who knows how many vampires," Leo said.
"Is that how he works? Can he just reach out to Alma through space and kill her? Why did he have to kill the other people in real life? What changed?" Doug asked.
"I do not know," Leo answered.
Doug rolled his eyes.
"I appreciate your attempts to help, but this meditation isn't working, and you didn't really have any information about James that I could use," Alma said as she stood up. Pins and needles rushed into her left foot. It had fallen asleep.
"James?" Cassidy asked.
"I told you his name before. James is the 'vampire,'" Alma said, making air quotes with her hands, "who killed Irene and most likely the same one who killed Leo and my mom. Although, according to Leo, it could be some guy named Marcus."
"Marcus was the man who I saw killed by the vampire," Leo corrected.
"You said James knew Irene," Cassidy said, ignoring Leo.
"They seemed like old friends. He worked for her in some way." Alma tried to reach into Irene's memories, but for some reason she couldn't anymore. The initial rush of recollections she got in when she entered the house had faded to nothing.
Cassidy gasped. "I think I remember a man named James at Irene's Bon Voyage. Nobody else had met him before, but I overheard him tell someone else that he was a student of Irene's."
"Bon Voyage?" Alma asked.
"It is like a wake, but for those like us," Leo said. "Sort of a 'bye for now' and a business mee
ting about where we're putting the deceased's assets until they come back."
Cassidy rushed across the room to one of her many wooden bookshelves and squatted down to open a closed drawer at the bottom. "I might have a photo. I thought he was one of us."
Alma went over to Cassidy, who'd picked up a yellow Kodak envelope. "About five years ago I found an old camera and a bunch of rolls of old film. I had them developed." Cassidy rummaged through the pictures.
"This is it," Cassidy said, handing the photo to Alma.
"It's him," Alma said.
"And he knows how to find us," Leo said.
"How?" Doug asked.
"At the Bon Voyage we openly discuss the Vaults," Leo said.
Alma turned to Cassidy for explanation.
"It used to be places where we hid gold and other bits of wealth for our next life, but now we do it with corporations and whatnot. But if James was there, he knows all about it."
"We are," Leo paused, "what is the saying? Like the ducks waiting to be killed."
"Sitting ducks," Doug said.
Leo pointed at Doug and nodded. "Yes."
Haniel shook his head no as he looked at his father and then returned the telephone back into its cradle hanging on the kitchen wall. "She said last night that she wasn't sure she could get together today, Dad."
James sat at the small kitchen table and tried to hide his impatience. "I know, son. I know. It's just...I feel her power growing. I sensed her power this morning."
"Dad, she put on the watch and nothing happened. We made out for Christ's sake."
"Maybe you were too forward, and she doesn't want to see you anymore."
Haniel paused to think about that and shook his head no again. "No way. She's just busy. Besides, she can't be at full power. Your vision said we had until her birthday. That's over a month away. Unless your vision was wrong." He knew his father would never admit he was wrong.
"You need to respect me. You need to respect what we seek. This is enlightenment for crying out loud!."
Haniel wasn't in the mood to hear about enlightenment. All he wanted to hear was Alma's voice.
Doug and Alma said their goodbyes. Leo and Cassidy needed to get on the telephone and talk to the other IMs about changing how the Vaults were set up. Doug drove down the hill into the Valley. When they hit Ventura, he remembered they hadn't eaten all day.
"Did you want to get tacos?" he asked.
"Can we just get drive-thru burgers?" Alma asked. "I want to be home when Tita Win comes home. She says she has a friend that might be able to tell me something."
"What friend?" Doug asked.
"I forget his name. He came to town for her birthday, and I think he likes her," Alma said.
Doug waggled his eyebrows and turned into the drive-thru. He ordered their usual, and they drove to Alma's pretending like everything was normal, even though it wasn't.
They pulled into the driveway and noticed Win Win's car.
"Your aunt's home early," Doug said, glancing at his watch. Knowing that Alma wouldn't be alone, he thought it would be best for him to eat quickly and leave to check in with his boss.
"Yeah. Let's eat fast and then go see what's up," Alma said.
"I've got homework. Would you mind if I met your aunt's friend at another time?" Doug asked.
"No problem," Alma said.
"Alma!" Tita Win shouted, peeking her head out of the house. She gestured for Alma to come inside with a low wave of the hand, a Filipino way of getting attention. Hailing someone with the hand held high was rude and unnecessary. "I have someone for you to meet."
"Doug and I were going to eat our burgers. Can I come after?" Alma asked.
"Aye! Eat in here. Come on," Win said, holding the door open for them.
Alma couldn't deny her aunt, and, as an extension neither could Doug. The two of them walked into the living room to find a distinguished gentleman sitting at the dining room table. He stood upon seeing Alma.
"Charles," Win said, beating Alma and Doug across the living room to meet her friend. "This my niece Alma, who I'm sure you know all about from The Observatory, and this is her friend, Doug."
Doug and Taylor traded shocked looks at Win's introduction. The two hadn't recognized each other by sight, having only seen each other in photos and not expecting to meet at this moment. Plus, there was the additional shock of Win Win's casual mention of The Observatory that neither could figure out.
Win laughed.
"Sit, everyone. I'll get dessert for us all."
Tita Win left, and they all sat down at the table as directed.
Awkward silence.
"Will you be staying for Tita Win's birthday party next weekend?" Alma asked Taylor, breaking the silence.
Taylor smiled. "I hope so."
Win Win emerged from the kitchen with a homemade Buko Pie, a Filipino dessert made with coconut.
"I'm stuffed from our late lunch, Winifred," Taylor said.
Alma smiled at how Charles Taylor called her aunt Winifred. The homemade pie was a sign that Taylor was a special guest, and hungry or not, Tita Win's pies were irresistible.
Doug tried to act natural, but he worried that Alma's aunt might at any minute blow his cover.
Win served the pie and then sat down next to Charles. The odd foursome ate in silence for a few minutes.
"How did your research go with Cassidy and Leo?" Win asked.
"Nothing major," Alma said, not knowing what to say.
"He knows all about this kind of stuff," Win said, gesturing to Taylor. "He can run that brain scan for you, too. But you know you're not crazy, don't you?"
"No, just weird," Alma said.
Win laughed. "That runs in the family!"
Doug looked to Taylor to try and figure out how Win knew about his boss and gauge whether or not the woman knew the truth about him. Doug had barely even remembered his boss's first name was Charles.
Taylor shrugged his shoulders when he thought Win and Alma weren't looking. He wondered, too, how long Winifred Fernandez had known the truth about him and why she'd chosen now to reveal it.
Win Win laughed some more. "Aye! Everyone is so quiet. Okay. I'll talk. Charles," Win said, gesturing to Taylor, "is what they call a Witness. He works for this place called The Observatory. They study people like your mom and me, and now I guess you."
"What do you mean study?" Alma asked.
"They follow us around. Report what we do. Do we see the future? Do we heal? Remember past lives? Things like this. Sometimes they make friends with us to get more information like Charles did with me."
"It wasn't just to get information, Winifred," Taylor said.
"I know. Sometimes it's to protect us." Win Win said.
Taylor stopped himself from saying it wasn't just that either. Now wasn't the time.
"Who was the Witness that was supposed to protect my mom?" Alma asked, angry at the idea that someone might be spying on her.
Win didn't answer. Doug remained quiet.
"What does this Observatory want?" Alma asked.
"Nothing," Taylor said. Alma glared at him.
"They're scholars. Mostly good men, but their origins weren't necessarily as pure as most of them think," Win explained.
Doug sneaked a questioning glance at Taylor, but the man didn't catch it. Winifred consumed all of his attention.
"What have you heard?" Taylor asked.
"My grandmother told me as a little girl. Your organization was formed by two men. One was a scholar, but the other was a balbal or some say wak-wak. Here they say vampire."
"Vampire!" Alma exclaimed.
"That can't be true!" Doug accused.
"But it's not like the vampire you see in the movies. No fangs. No cape. No changing into a bat."
Alma directed her full attention to Charles Taylor. "Do you know that vampires hunt the very people you study? You may not want anything from us, but your vampire founder is using you to set up his own personal buffet."
"How do you know? He could've been the vampire that killed my mom," Alma said.
"No, it wasn't the same vampire," Win Win said. "My lola, your great-grandmother, took care of Livius."
"His name is Livius, not James?" Alma said to Win. Her aunt nodded. Alma sighed and slumped her shoulders.
"What makes you think a vampire named James killed your mother?" Taylor asked.
"Not just Mom. Irene Polk and Leo Upton, too."
Charles Taylor's eyes grew wide. "Are you sure? Do you know what he looked like? How do you know this?"
"You're the spies. You tell me," Alma said.
Doug's heart sank with guilt. He thought he was one of the good guys, but he wasn't.
"This James," Charles said, his voice soft, but his forehead furrowed with concern. "Was he tall with dark hair and blue eyes? Handsome even?"
"Yes," Alma said, leaning forward with interest. "Are you tracking him? Can you tell me where he is?"
"I don't know. He went missing after Irene died," Charles said.
"What do you mean missing?" Doug asked.
"We lost track of James Hanker when Irene Polk died. He was her Witness."
Chapter Sixteen
Alma stood up. "Get out and take whomever my witness is with you."
Doug's stomach dropped into his socks.
"Alma, it's okay," Win said.
"No, it's not. His association is the reason why Mom is dead, and the rest of us are in danger. The only reason you're not dead is because he stopped being your Witness."
"There's nothing we could have done to prevent your mother's death. Your mother foresaw that," Win said.
"That's not true," Alma said. Her mother foresaw them together. "Her Witness probably led him right to her."
"We've been hunted for years," Win said. "Sit down, Alma. I know it's hard, but they mean no harm."
"But that doesn't mean they don't do any harm," Alma said.
"She's right," Taylor interrupted. "But let us—let me—help you."
Alma sat down. "Fine, tell me everything you know about vampires."
