Chapter 19
Southbound
Marcus Amilius stood across the street from what had once been the Stratosphere tower in Necropolis and Las Vegas before then. An explosion from some large source nearby had knocked the tower over and shattered its top into another burning building creating a visual effect akin to a monstrous still-burning torch laid across the city.
Kicking chunks of concrete debris out from under his shoe, Marcus studied the site, letting the scent of the air tell him more than it would ever tell any mortal man. He could smell the sweat of a man who had walked barefoot. He could still smell the man’s blood on bits of broken glass along the road.
He knelt down and picked up a piece of the glass and tasted the sticky dust-covered dried-up blood. Human—yes. He hadn’t been wrong. But odd, nonetheless. It wasn’t purely human somehow. It was different. Marcus decided he would keep this little bit of information to himself until he could be alone with his Queen. Then he would put the question to her wisdom to unfold. He turned then, walking away from the trampled tower. It was time to find out just where the rest of these cowards had gone.
* * *
Pushing the soil with ease, Jack dug his way out from the hole he’d buried himself into. His target had likely gained some ground on him thanks to the bloke in the leather, so he decided to head into the nearest town and look for some fresh game before continuing the real hunt. He retraced his steps back to the diner Toby and Cayne had eaten at. Mostly fat old truckers and middle-aged waitresses lined the place. Nothing enticing to Jack’s very particular palette. Between the new moon and the cloudy sky, darkness engulfed the rural countryside.
Jack had driven his little jalopy of a car to the place, but decided to run instead to try and work out some of the nervous energy he’d built up lying in that hole in the ground. He’d barely slept. The old wives tales about vampires falling into a deep sleep in the daylight hours weren’t as true as Jack would have liked. He often found that when he was uncomfortable it took some time to finally fall asleep, but he would never sleep in. He’d always wondered why his internal clock had been so consistent. It never had been when he was still human. Human? I’ve never truly been human, eh? Jack laughed to himself as the lights of a nearby town peeked over the tall hill he was running up.
* * *
Toby awoke to find Dustin asleep sitting upright in a chair by the door, Jonathan's crossbow lying across his lap. Thin streams of bright sunlight snuck in from around the four corners of the square piece of plywood nailed over the only window in the room. Toby eased himself down from the top bunk landing on the bottoms of his shoes with a hollow tap. Dustin's eyes fluttered at the sound and he looked up at Toby with an expression like a man staring into a spotlight right in front of his face.
Toby smiled as Dustin moaned in an exaggerated deep growl. "Why you gotta go and wake me up for?"
"Sorry. I didn't think it would be that loud. We probably have to leave soon anyway."
"Yeah, probably. Don't mean I wanna get up just yet, though." Dustin grinned mischievously and stretched as he got up from the chair. A knock at the door caught their attention and Jonathan peeked his head in at them.
"You guys wanna get cleaned up and get some breakfast before we head out? It's gonna be a long trip."
The shower rooms were crude, much like an older version of what Toby dealt with in the Imperial orphanage. But breakfast was far superior. Big fluffy waffles, bacon, sausage, toast and eggs. When they were done eating, Toby was afraid he wouldn't be able to get up from his seat. After the grand welcome the day before, Toby was surprised to find that there was no send off of any kind as the three of them got in Jonathan's truck to leave.
Conversation was light for the first hour or so of the trip. Toby watched the sun get higher and higher in the clear blue eastern horizon above the trees and tops of houses, barns, and bare fields as they drove along the highway. Traffic was also light in those early hours just late enough to be after the morning commute and early enough to be well before lunch. A few tractor trailers and the occasional minivan seemed to be as busy as it would get.
After that first hour went by, Dustin and Jonathan seemed to take to each other well, having long conversations about guns, music, and movies. Toby mostly listened, but added his opinion here and there on the subjects of music and movies where he felt comfortable doing so. Otherwise, he stared out the side window and let the two men talk.
It was late in the afternoon before they stopped to get gas. Dustin and Toby went inside to use the bathroom as Jonathan manned the pump. As soon as they walked into the gas station, Toby was reminded of just how surrounded by the enemy they were. The sound of Imperial praise music filled the intercom speakers. Years ago, the lyrics had barely meant anything at all to Toby. But ever since he'd been old enough to make sense of them and then after his father had been taken from him and Toby was put in that orphanage, the lyrics of those songs haunted him often.
This particular song was a new one he'd heard a lot in the past few weeks. The lyrics were typical really:
Lord I praise your name up to the sky,
If you asked me to, I would lay down my life and die,
For you, Lord Caesar,
All for you
Having believed his father dead in Necropolis at one point, the song struck a dissonant emotional chord in Toby. It gave him a fearful kind of chill yet lately, he'd often found the song stuck in his head. It was almost an anthem to him, an anthem built on irony and anger. As Dustin led the way down a narrow hallway past the register, Toby wondered what it was like for his father to meet face to face with such a purely evil and psychotic man as the Emperor. He wasn't sure why he'd never thought of it before, but the thought left a bitter taste in his mouth and a sharp pang of guilt for all the time he had been so difficult toward his father for what he thought was going on.
When they were done in the bathroom, Dustin looked around for a snack for a few minutes while Toby just stared out the window, wondering how much longer it would be before he could see his dad and hug him. Apologize—thank him. Talk with him for hours. He wanted so badly to just be in the man's presence. He felt safe with Dustin and Jonathan, but without his father there was a nagging fear building up inside. He wasn't used to worrying about adults, even though he'd had his share of doing so in the past year.
Dustin decided on a single serving bag of chips and a hot dog and the two made their way to check out. The man behind the counter was dressed in a white T-shirt and jeans and wore a long necklace made up of leather string and multi-colored beads of various shapes and sizes. He was staring at a television just out of view from Toby. Dustin stood waiting for a few minutes as the man, appearing to be mesmerized by what he was watching, seemed to ignore him. Dustin gave a loud prompting fake cough and the man reached forward and grabbed the items Dustin had laid out on the counter without looking at them and began to scan them.
"You believe this shit on TV, man? It's crazy enough the Emperor had vampires holed up somewhere, now he's got them stationed all over the place. They're not sayin' it on the news, but what the hell happened to this big attack against Necropolis? If you ask me, something went really wrong and we're all screwed."
Toby and Dustin shared glances at each other while the man talked.
A man standing by the donut stand nodded. “The cops also got the state lines blocked up. They ransacked my whole truck and patted me down and everything. I think you might be onta somethin’ there fella’.” He wore a greasy old blue baseball cap with a matching windbreaker, and blue jeans. A small tuft of gray hair stuck out from the loop in the back of his hat when he turned to rummage through the donuts some more. The man behind the counter just sighed in reply and then finally looked up at Dustin.
“That’ll be seven dollars and eighty-six cents.”
Dustin paid the man and he and Toby left for the car. Once inside they told Jonathan what they had heard.
Jonathan started up the truck stari
ng forward in deep concentration. “I’m not surprised. And I’ll just about bet you they’ll have them goddamn vampires there at night. But they can’t cover the entire boundary line of every state. A lotta roads cross from state to state and some of them aren’t so well known. Dustin, you wanna take over driving soon?”
“Sure, you gettin’ tired?”
“Yes and no, but more importantly, I wanna look over some maps and get us a few alternative routes ready ahead of time.”
* * *
Hank's eyes blasted open. Above him he could see a faintly lit gray-metal ceiling that was otherwise void of detail. After well more than a day without it, the thirst for ancestor blood was taking its toll on his body. He wasn't sure if what he had just experienced was real or a dream. There was no smell of smoke and no longer a sensation of burning. After being with the Queen he had dreamed of a checkpoint along the highway in broad daylight. Two police officers checked the truck and when they found there were vampires inside, they shot the driver in the head, set the trailer on fire and locked Hank and the others inside to die.
All around him were bodies lying in bundles that might have been made of stone had he not known any better. The dim blue light seeping into the cracks of the back doors of the trailer told Hank that it was not yet too late. The truck bumped along for now, but it would soon come into dangerous territory.
Hank struggled to his feet and limped over to the cab-end of the trailer and began beating on the featureless gray wall hoping someone behind it would hear him. After a few minutes of hammering on the trailer, the truck began to slow and Hank could feel it's movement veer. Then the truck shook in large intervals as it pulled off the road.
After what seemed like an eternity had passed, one of the back doors of the trailer slowly squeaked open and a fearful young stubbly face under a blue baseball cap peeked inside. It took Hank a moment to remember the man likely couldn't see in the dark quite as well as he could. Hank broke the silence that was coming to a head as blue cap’s eyes bobbed up and down and side to side.
"The road will be blocked at the state line of New Mexico, I can help us get past it."
Hank’s voice seemed to startle and confuse the man, so Hank walked up to where he could be seen.
“Oh, phew. I didn’t see you at first, pal. You trying to give me a heart attack?”
Hank smiled. “Not at all. Just wasn’t sure how best to get your attention.”
“What’s this about a road block?”
“Are you alone up there?”
“Yeah, why—“
“I’m gonna need your uniform then. And you’ll have to sit tight back here a while.”
Panic screamed out from every inch of the man’s face at Hank’s words.
“Don’t worry, once we’re past the state line I can stop and we can swap back. How many miles do we have left to go?”
Chapter 20
The Open Road
A good hour or so of nothing but sand and stone had passed when the road started to climb and curve ahead. Near the top of the hill on the opposite side of the road, sunlight glinted off of a large sign for various Arizona trinket shops and the promise of a gas station that was probably as empty as the view had been since Hank had taken over driving. He was glad the original driver, Ted, had decided for Hank to drop him off. It would work better for the plan Hank had in mind. He downshifted to compensate for the upward slope. As he neared even with the sign, the top of another sign peeked up from behind the road that was about to angle downward beyond the other side of the hill. The words “Welcome to New Mexico” slid up from the ground and alongside them the tops of two police cars blocking the road ahead.
“Well, I’ll be damned. Maybe it’s time for me to start reading fortunes.” Hank laughed nervously as he began slowing the truck down. Two policemen that uncannily resembled the two men from Hank’s vision stepped around the side of the truck as it rattled to a stop. Pushing down on the emergency brake, Hank opened the window and said hello.
The taller of the two cops stepped up onto the side step of the truck his face buried in his clipboard. “Cargo? Destination?”
Parts and technical crew for the forest moon was Hank’s held-back knee-jerk reaction.
“Darvender Industries—foam products—egg crates and sound-proofing foam—stuff like that. I’m headed for East Texas. We have a big client in Sulphur Springs waiting on me to get there later this evening. I sure hope I’m not too late.”
The cop gave Hank an annoyed look that said he didn’t care one way or another if he was late. And then as he looked in Hank’s eyes, his intimidating expression melted into one of surprise.
“Buddy what the hell’s wrong with your eyes?”
Hank was ready for this. His eyes had been turning more and more black whenever the thirst took over too strong. Knowing he might have to explain the situation to someone sooner or later, he had done some extensive research to try and find some kind of illness that fit his quite visible symptom.
“Glaucoma. The eye drops darken my eyes.”
“And they let you drive?”
“Yeah, I haven’t wrecked the truck yet.” Hank laughed. “I guess I’m lucky.”
The cop didn’t return his laughter. “License, registration, insurance?”
“Yeah, just let me get my registration and insurance papers from the glove box.” It was only a matter of time now. He had no other choice but to give them the license in his wallet. The real one. He could only hope he wasn’t on some wanted list or reported dead. He pulled out his wallet and handed the officer his ID.
The door to the glove compartment fell open like a heavy brick when Hank pushed the button to unlatch it. Inside he saw a mess of papers and something much more interesting that he hadn’t expected to find. A single small clear vial with thick dark liquid swishing around inside, smearing the glass as it went. Hank grabbed it along with the papers and set everything beside him, letting the vial roll under his leg. After a minute of rustling through the papers, he found the requested documents and handed them over to the officer. The man looked them over briefly then glanced up at Hank.
“All right. I’ll be right back, sir. Sit tight.”
“Will do,” Hank said, watching the man as he hopped down to the ground from the side of the truck. As soon as both cops were in the squad car, Hank pulled out the vial, popped it open, and chugged its contents. Cheers. Looking at the cops as they moseyed back over to the truck, Hank had a moment of guilt strike at the thought of what he was about to do. He told himself it was necessary. He knew from his visions it was one of many very tough choices he would have to make. In time, they would all blur together into the moral obscurity of war.
There was a clicking sound from the taller officer.
“Mr. Evans, you sure are a long way from home. I’m gonna have to ask you to step out of the vehicle and open up that trailer right now.” The cop had his pistol drawn and pointed with both hands right up through the window at Hank’s head.
Hank nodded, unbuckled his seatbelt and gently eased his way out of the truck and raised his hands in the air. As soon as he stepped onto the ground, the officer patted him down quickly and forcefully, pulled out the ring of keys that had been in his pocket, then turned Hank around facing away from the cops and shoved him forward toward the back of the truck.
“Go on and open that trailer, Mr. Evans. I’ve got a bad feeling about this. Don’t give me a reason to shoot. Understand?”
“Yes.” Hank stepped forward slowly until he felt the cold pressure of a barrel pressing against his back. He picked up his pace in line with the force of the officer’s weapon. When they came to the back of the trailer the officer handed Hank the key ring back and told him to open it up quickly and quietly. Hank took a deep breath and mentally prepared himself for his next move.
The key turned and a deep metallic squealing thud sounded from inside the doors and in what had to have been a blur of motion, he took the gun from the officer’s hand an
d shoved him inside, closing the door and locking it behind him. Within the trailer, the man began to scream out in a high pitch drenched in terror. Hank climbed the trailer like a monkey in a tree, seeing the other cop in his sonar vision bursting around the side of the truck.
He thought about letting the man live, just getting back in the truck and driving onward. But he knew he couldn’t do that. It was too late to save him. If he let the man go, he would surely inform the Emperor. The cop fumbled with the lock trying to break it open with his hands as if that were possible. Hank watched him a moment and then when he’d decided now was as good a time as any, he dropped down onto the man and swiftly twisted his neck until it cracked and the man fell limp into Hank’s arms.
Hank stood there holding the lifeless body for a long while, his tears soaking into the man’s curly greasy blond hair as the other cop pounded against the inside of the trailer screaming for help. He’d only ever taken the life of a vampire before. He’d never killed another human being. And yet… he was no longer human either. Or vampire. He was something else entirely. A deep emptiness followed this realization. A dark feeling much like loneliness. But he’d been as lonely as any man could ever be before. This was something new. Something far more desolate.
Something dead.
* * *
When George Nelson arrived at 336 Weston Road, he wasn't at all surprised to find his old house burned to the ground. The remaining foundation was covered over with old debris and weeds grown over from years of neglect. George knelt down and wept. He could remember the last night he'd spent in his home. He might have been lonely but he'd always had a home to go to. Now he was left with nothing. His old fellowship, his home, and even his country were all things of the past now. He gripped some crumbled drywall in his hand and crushed it into dust in his hand as he thought of what all he had lost.
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