Vampire Miami

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Vampire Miami Page 20

by Philip Tucker


  “OK.” Selah stood up. “Let’s get going then.”

  Mama B nodded her agreement, iron dreads shaking behind her, and set about packing a small suitcase of clothing and other emergency gear. Selah did the same, and moments later, Mama B was locking the door behind her and leading Selah down the hall.

  “Where y’all going?” asked a heavyset lady who’d been obviously waiting to complain some more.

  “It’s none of your business, Sally.”

  “None of my business? I don’t agree! You think you can just break the rules because it’s your granddaughter? What happened to community comes first? What happened to—”

  “Sally,” said Mama B, suddenly rounding on her and staring her right in the face, “Sally, you sure you want to push this right now? You see what I’m holding? It’s a suitcase. It’s got my clothes and toothbrush in it. I’ve packed my Bible and I’ve locked my door. You know what time it is? You know where I’m going? You even know why? No. You don’t.”

  Sally spluttered in indignation. Mama B forced her back, step by step. “So why don’t you close that mouth of yours and leave me alone, and then once I’m gone, you can say whatever that empty head of yours thinks needs saying. We clear?”

  “I never!” Sally was trying to recover, to gain some outrage, but her effort kept wilting before Mama B’s gaze. Only once Mama had turned and begun to walk away did Sally follow her once more. “You gonna just leave us here, Mrs. Brown? That what you’re aiming to do? Leave us the minute your fool granddaughter gets in trouble?”

  Mama B stopped. Selah turned and saw Sally cover her mouth with one hand, knowing she’d gone too far. Mama turned, not to Sally, but to the Palisades as a whole, stepping up to the railing and looking down upon the yard and the other open hallways as a queen might survey her land.

  “Now listen here! Listen all of you, especially those with the same fool notions and questions as Sally Carmichael here. I’ve been here fighting for you and our common human dignity for over two years now. Two years I’ve sweated with you, bled with you, been proud to be a member of this here community that we built together. I left my family for you, for the Palisades, for all the decent folk here in Miami. Now my girl is in trouble. She needs help. I left her once, but I’m not going to do so again.”

  Selah kept back, but even from her vantage point, she could see countless faces staring at them, from higher floors, from down the hall. The whole community was awake, and everybody was listening.

  “Now am I happy that my little girl has gone and got mixed up with the vampires? Am I happy to be leaving you all right now, just as we’re about to make some real changes? Hell no. You all know just how much I care. But this goes deeper. The vampires are using my safety as a means to blackmail and abuse my granddaughter, and that I will not tolerate.

  “So I am leaving. I may come back, but I doubt it. We are going to find a way out, and I swear that I will continue to fight for all of you, no matter where I end up. But now, tonight, I am going to take care of my girl, and that’s all there is to it.”

  Mama B turned away and took Selah’s hand. “Come on, honey. Let’s go.” They strode down the hall, chins up, and from somewhere, somebody began to clap. It was a lonely, startling sound, and then somebody else yelled out, “Yeah, Mama B!” And then everybody was clapping, and Selah saw tears in Mama’s eyes, though her expression did not change, and people gathered at the base of the steps so that when they emerged, they stepped out into an incredible press of hugs and good wishes. People touched their shoulders, pulled Selah in for hugs. Seeing their faces, the smiles, the tears, hearing the sincerity in their voices, their pain and loss, Selah understood, truly understood what Mama B had been doing here. Had been trying to do. What she was leaving, abandoning for her.

  She felt tears burn her eyes, but an old pain, an old knot so tight and deep that she often forgot it was there, loosened. Smoothed away, and by the time they made it out to the lobby, Mama B giving everybody instructions and last-minute orders, she felt a new sense of peace.

  They swept out into the street, a handful of people braving the dark to walk them to the jeep, and Selah saw that Cholly had joined them, that somebody else had summoned Maria Elena. Hair tied back in a braid as thick as Selah’s wrist, her friend looked shocked and excited both. Selah stepped up to her and took Maria Elena’s hands. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

  Maria Elena shook her head. “I swear, I have never met somebody with such a talent for trouble as you. Never. I thought I was trouble, but girl, you are the limit.”

  Selah half smiled, unsure if that was praise or not, but not really caring. Maria Elena grinned at her. “I don’t know half of what you’ve been up to, but if a quarter of that half is true, it’s already way too much. And why am I’m coming? What is this? Where are we going?”

  “I’ll explain in the car,” said Selah. “But, long story short, the vampires were threatening to hurt you if I didn’t do what they wanted. So I have to bring you. And where? We’re leaving Miami.” She didn’t believe it, not really, but it felt so good to say, and Maria Elena’s cry of surprise and delight gave her a much-needed jolt of pleasure.

  Cholly was behind the wheel. Selah climbed in as the final few friends gave Mama B a hug, and looked at the large man. His hair was still nappy, and he smelled of sour sweat, but it was the steady way he sat there, hands on the wheel, ready to drive Mama B wherever she needed to go that really hit her. He was watching Mama with such deep affection and tenderness that suddenly Selah understood. He looked at Selah when he realized she was staring.

  “Thank you, Cholly.”

  He didn’t respond, eyes troubled.

  “And I’m sorry,” Selah continued, “for what I said before. I didn’t understand. I think I do now.”

  “My pleasure,” he said, voice low. “Anything for you and Mama B.” They held each other’s eyes and then he smiled, shrugged his shoulders. “And don’t say nothing to Mama. She’d wallop me upside the head if she suspected I harbored feelings of any kind for her. I’m going to speak to her in my own sweet time when I think she’s ready.”

  Selah smiled at him, and reached forward to squeeze his great shoulder. “No problem.”

  Maria Elena threw her frilly pink suitcase into the back, and climbed in. “So, where we driving to?”

  “This place where some friends are waiting. They’re going to help out.”

  “Friends? Like who?”

  “The … Resistance,” said Selah, remembering too late how low Maria Elena’s opinion of them was.

  “Oh,” said her friend. “For real? Oh. What are they going to do? Shoot a video?”

  “We don’t know just yet,” said Mama B, getting into the passenger seat. “But trust me when I say that I am going to urge them to be as creative as possible.”

  The last of the crowd was already streaming back to the front door, fleeing the night, so Cholly turned on the rose-colored jeep and moved. He went fast, slaloming around obstacles on the road, and everybody held on tight. In motion, nobody felt like talking, partly because of how grim Mama B looked. Still, they were moving. They would meet up with Cloud. Selah didn’t know why, but she knew he’d have a plan. She just knew it.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Not ten minutes later they reached the rendezvous point with Cloud. It was a dingy motel called the Aqua Blue located up Biscayne, past the periphery of vampiric activity downtown. They pulled into a parking space and climbed out. Before they had a chance to approach further, Cloud leaned out of a window above them.

  “Selah!” His voice rang out. “You OK?”

  “Yeah,” said Selah, deciding to not elaborate. “We’re coming up.”

  They took the stairs to the third floor and then down the hall to room 306. Cloud was inside, along with Cassie and Joey. The room was cramped and there wasn’t enough room for people to sit. No lights, either; just Cloud’s flashlight, which he pointed at the wall so as to give some faint reflective illum
ination.

  “Cloud, this is my grandmother, Mrs. Brown. We all call her Mama B. This is her friend Cholly, and this is my friend Maria Elena.”

  “Hey,” said Cloud, his manner more reserved now. “Pleasure to meet you folks. What’s going on, Selah? What happened?”

  Everybody stared at her. She leaned against the wall, hands behind her back. “I can’t … I’m not going to another of those parties. I can’t do it. I won’t. It was—it was much worse than I expected.”

  Her words hung heavily in the air among them all. Cloud rubbed the back of his head, and then nodded. “Shit. I hear you. I thought you were being too optimistic back in the Gables. I’m—I’m sorry you had to go through that. Don’t worry about it. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

  “Of course she doesn’t,” said Mama B, “and you should’ve known better than to send her in there in the first place.”

  “Mama,” said Selah. But Cloud was nodding.

  “Maybe. But she wanted to help. Like nobody I’ve ever seen. We’re fighting a war here. She wanted in.” Cloud looked at Selah, his face somber. “I decided to respect her decision. I’m not going to apologize for that.”

  Mama B glowered but remained quiet, clearly still upset but not willing to pursue the matter further.

  “So,” drawled Cassie, “I’m guessing y’all didn’t just come over to drop Selah off. What’s going on?”

  “Hell,” said Cloud, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall. “If Selah won’t go back, then they’re going to come for Mrs. Brown and Maria Elena. So. You three need to disappear. Leave Miami.”

  “Yes.” Mama B crossed her arms. “Tonight.”

  “Shit,” said Joey. “We can’t just wave our hands and make you disappear in a flash of smoke, you know.”

  Cloud ignored Joey. “We might be able to work something out. Selah, since you left, I’ve been thinking hard, and I got in touch with that latest recruit of ours. Told him about you. About the strange reaction your blood causes the vampires. He wants to talk, and if anybody can help, he can.”

  “Which ‘recruit’ is this?” asked Mama B. She was not going to give Cloud an inch.

  He, however, remained relaxed, unruffled. “General Adams.”

  “General Adams?” said Selah. “The General Adams?”

  Cloud watched Mama B’s face for a reaction, but when she didn’t explode, he looked over to Selah and nodded. “Yeah. The same guy who signed the Treaty with the vamps. He wants to talk to you. So you ready? He’s waiting.”

  Rather than be upset as Selah had expected, Mama B was quietly thoughtful. With no other option immediately apparent, everybody filed out, and a few minutes later, they were in the jeep following Cloud and his friends on their bikes. Selah sat forward. “What do you think, Mama?”

  Mama B shook her head. “I don’t know, but this could work out. If it’s really him, that is. General Adams disappeared right after the Treaty was signed. So let’s hold off and see if it’s really him before we get our hopes up.”

  “And if it is? If it’s him?”

  “Well, girl, if it’s him? Then he might still have some serious connections with the military. I don’t know. Let’s take this one a step at a time.”

  The general lived in North Miami, close to where the Wall hit the coastline. A small neighborhood, overgrown and abandoned. No lights, no movement. Nothing to call attention to the fact that such a controversial figure might be living there.

  They pulled up before a small house, and Cloud parked his bike in the street, raising his hand to prevent anybody from driving onto the driveway. Everybody got out, and Cloud pressed a buzzer hidden under some plants by the mailbox. “He’s got real-live claymore mines buried around his garden. It’s death to walk up to his front door without his turning off his security system first.”

  Selah shifted her weight from one foot to the other. They were all here because of her. She studied the front of the modest little house. Saw a vague reflection off glass hidden in the palm tree above them, and stared up into a security camera. Well, at the least this guy was smart or resourceful enough to have electricity.

  The front door opened, and warm light streamed out over the garden. “Cloud,” rasped the man in the doorway, “come on up. Don’t step off the path.”

  Cloud took the lead, and they filed down the path and in through the front door into a small living room. The house was clean, neat, and sparsely furnished. The front windows were carefully blocked with heavy drapes so that casual passersby would not notice the electric illumination within, though the general had his lights on dimmers so that everything was lit in a soft, honeyed glow. The walls were bare of pictures or paintings, no knickknacks or curios on the shelving, no rugs or other homely touches to be seen. The general was clearly a man of minimalist, even austere taste.

  Their host was a white man in his sixties, trim and lean with iron-gray hair cut close to his scalp, a long, hard face, and eyes that glittered like ice struck by the sun. He scanned the street carefully after they’d all entered, and then closed the door and shot home a series of deadbolts. Turning, he walked past them into the living room and turned to survey the group, hands on his hips.

  Cloud was clearly the one most at ease with the situation, and sat on the arm of the couch. “General, this here is Selah and her grandmother, this is her friend Maria Elena, and I didn’t catch your name.”

  “Cholly.”

  “Cholly. Things got rough tonight and Selah’s in need of a plan B.”

  The general studied her. Selah shot a glance over to Mama B, who gave her a quick nod. It really was him. General Adams.

  “Good to meet you, Miss Brown. And the rest of you. Please, have a seat.” He sat in a rosewood rocking chair, and everybody settled themselves on couches or armchairs. Except Cholly. He remained standing by the front door. “Cloud tells me that your blood has a unique effect on the vampires who drink it,” said the general without preamble. “Can you explain further?”

  “Actually,” said Mama B, “we have very little time. We need to know if you can help the three of us get out of Miami by tomorrow night. That’s what we need to be speaking of.”

  The general turned and looked at Mama B, who raised her eyebrows at his scrutiny and stared right back. Selah had never seen anybody match up to the intensity of a full-on Mama B stare, but the general weathered it like a rock might the pounding of the ocean. He held her gaze with his own quiet intensity, and for a long moment the air between them nearly crackled with tension. Selah leaned back, half expecting something to explode, but at last the general smiled, or grimaced, which might have been the best he could do.

  “We are talking about your chances of escaping, Mrs. Brown. It all depends on Selah’s blood, and perhaps, your own. Have you ever been bitten by a vampire?”

  Mama B stiffened. “Of course not.”

  “Interesting. And a pity. To your knowledge, has anybody else in your family?”

  Selah looked to her grandmother, who shook her head. “No, I don’t think so. At least, not that I know of.”

  “The reason I ask is because if Selah’s blood does indeed have a unique ability to … whatever you want to call it—exchange qualities with the vampire that drinks of it—then we may have an incredible weapon on our hands.”

  “Weapon?” asked Selah.

  “Yes. Do you know why I signed the Treaty?”

  Selah suddenly felt like she was back in school again. Except the general’s stare put Mr. Condarcuri’s best glare to shame. “Um, because we were losing?”

  “Close enough. We weren’t losing, but we weren’t winning, either. We thought in the beginning that it would be simply a case of hunting the vampires down wherever we found them and killing them. It wasn’t. They went on the offensive. You will recall how soon into the War President Andrews was embraced. Two months later, they got to Vice President Connor, and then right after that they took out Speaker of the House Jiminez. That’s not
to mention members of the Cabinet, state governors, military leaders, celebrities, anybody and everybody who was a public leader, a source of strength. I was a two-star general at the start of the War. I was made a five-star general mostly because everybody above me had been turned into a vampire.”

  Selah nodded. That sounded familiar. General Adams leaned back in his chair. “That’s why I signed the Treaty. Anarchy was spreading through the country. Recall the riots in LA, Detroit, and DC? Further, we were losing all the strong and spirited men and women who actually had the backbone to risk their lives in fighting the vampires. The last batch who stepped into office were terrified, were willing to sign a peace settlement at any cost so that they wouldn’t be the next victims. Which was the vampires’ plan all along.

  “So how did the vampires win? By embracing our leadership. By removing any effective leader any time they manifested themselves. We couldn’t protect them, and after three years of attrition, there was nobody left willing to fight on. That’s when they asked me to draft and promote the Treaty. To stick my neck out and take all the blame, for the sake of the government, to save our country from complete chaos.”

 

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