by Clark Hays
As Tucker watched in amazement, she passed Rex in a blur of gray. Surprised, Rex lost control, veered to the side and tumbled into a cactus. Even though his nose was full of stickers; he stood to watch Alexandra pass the rabbit too. Once well in the lead, she stopped to let it catch up, only to pass it again. On and on they ran like that until the poor rabbit gave up and plopped down, its ribs heaving from the strain. She sniffed at it and ran a few teasing steps to see if it would start again, but it refused, so she trotted back to see about Rex. She didn’t even look winded, unlike Rex, who looked like a wheezing, panting, out-of-shape pincushion.
“Damn, that girl can run,” Tucker said to Rex, who was looking at him over a row of stickers in his nose, eyes welling tears.
“C’mon, we got to get you back to the house and pick those sons of bitches out.”
FORTY-EIGHT
“I still don’t believe you,” Lazarus said.
He was immersed in his pool, cold and relaxed. Elita stretched out beside him on the sand, her back arched and head thrown back to drink in the moonlight, her breasts uncovered and sprinkled by the light of millions of stars sparkling in the darkness. A thick beach towel was bunched below her waist.
She rolled over onto an elbow and regarded Lazarus coolly. “But Lizzie does,” she said.
“She is not yet able to make those sorts of judgments,” he said.
“She believes she is.”
Lazarus harumphed and motioned for her to join him. She arched her eyebrows, shrugged delicately, the towel falling from around her, and slid into the pool.
“Oooh, it’s cold.” She shivered and then relaxed.
“I must tell you, Elita, it is not often I have the pleasure of such a beautiful bathing companion.”
She smiled. “It’s not often I have the honor of relaxing with the self-proclaimed champion of free vampires.”
“We have lost touch, you and I, over the years.”
She nodded, her face shining from the invigorating coolness of the water. “I suppose many Adamites felt the same way during the great schism of the church. Two popes and all that. One in New York, the other … where are we exactly?”
“New Mexico, my dear.”
“Oh, yes.” She dipped her head under the water and then reemerged, running her hand through her hair. She smiled, revealing her perfect teeth. “What must I do to gain your trust?”
“You can’t. Only historical perspective will allow that luxury. Come, I have something to show you.” He hoisted himself from the pool and she studied the ample folds of his body as he pulled on a thick robe. She smiled, but wasn’t for a moment fooled. There was more power concealed in that body than most vampires could dream of. More, she sensed, than even Julius. But his morality was a weak point, an Achilles’ heel, and Julius had no such vulnerabilities.
She pulled herself out to follow, padding barefoot down the hall, still naked.
They wound their way deeper into the recesses of the sandstone underground. At an unassuming metal door, he pressed a section of the wall and the door slid open to reveal a bare room lined with video equipment. There was a folding table in the middle and he gestured at one of the chairs. “Please sit.”
She did while forming a question. “Tell me. Why have you not seen Lizzie yet? You should be as anxious as Julius to see her, and yet, here it is, what, three nights gone by and you still refuse. Why? And do you have any cigarettes?”
“No. I’ll send for some, if you like.”
She nodded and he pressed a switch on the wall. “Cigarettes,” he said simply. “In the meantime, have some HoHos.” He pulled a bag out and slid it across the table. “As for your question, it’s not that easy, seeing her, I mean. She’s so young. She has no idea.”
“Of what?”
“How important she is.”
Elita rolled her eyes. “You sound like Julius. Anything to keep our queen happy.”
He shook his head sadly. “As intelligent as you are, you haven’t figured it out. Haven’t the centuries taught you anything? My God, woman, you have lived a dozen lives as blindly and stupidly as the most ignorant of Adamites.”
She blanched. “I do not need a lecture, Lazarus.”
He nodded, a peculiar look of scorn and remorse on his face. “Indeed. What you need is a heart. Look inside yourself. Hasn’t a real thought entered that pretty head of yours in the last thousand years? Haven’t you just once tried to figure it out, the purpose? This is not some silly accident we live in. It’s life. Eternal life.” He pushed the HoHos aside and leaned close. “There is a reason for this, for the evil and violence. It is no game of chance we were born vampires. We are needed, we are necessary.”
A knock at the door interrupted him. Carlos entered and glaring at Elita with undisguised hatred, dropped a pack of clove cigarettes on the table and a book of matches. As if an afterthought, he also dropped a silk robe onto her lap.
Elita slipped it on, noticing that despite his hatred, Carlos clearly was not as disinterested in her as Lazarus.
She smiled and pulled the robe tight, accentuating the curve of her breasts and the silhouette of her nipples. She used one lacquered nail to split the package, slowly extracting a cigarette, lighting it and blowing a stream of clove-scented smoke at him.
“Carlos, you remembered,” she said, but her taunt lacked conviction. He smiled tightly and left without saying a word.
“You still enjoy your silly games,” Lazarus said. “I’m surprised you have yet to realize your power extends far beyond your sexuality.” He sighed and leaned back in his chair, took a bite of cupcake and contemplated the moist crumbs and cream filling. “Tell me something. Did Julius explain the rationale behind his desire for Lizzie?” asked Lazarus.
“At first I thought it was simply to have a queen by his side, but now I realize it was something much more practical. World dominion.”
Lazarus laughed. “Exactly. A new dawn for our kind. No longer confined to the shadows. An earth of vampires, that sort of thing.”
“There’s a certain beauty to it,” Elita said casually.
“But that’s where you, and he, are wrong. There would be no beauty. There would be nothing but evil, awful, terrible torment. We have a role, you and I, and those like us. We consume evil. It is our legacy. Those that live forever must necessarily be evil. There is no other choice. We have a taste of the infinite, reaffirmed in us every sunset as we travel back into our bodies. There is no need to seek higher meaning. We have no time limit. We live forever, and in doing so, we are answerable to no one. Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the law.”
“Aleister Crowley,” Elita said.
“Yes. A human who wished he was a vampire, that human moral concerns need not apply to him, just as they do not apply to us.”
“And what is the problem?” she asked.
“The problem is we do have a purpose, and Julius has strayed far from it. Malthus brought a message of hate, just as Jesus and other Adamite prophets brought a message of love. We must hate so that love can exist. We must be evil so that good may exist. Ours is to contain the darkness that others may contain the light. Without the light, though, we cannot see it, and this world would not be worth living in. Without friendship and love and laughter and joy, how could we go on in our lives of death and decay?”
“All just words, Lazarus,” Elita said. “Words like those Julius speaks. Words that don’t matter in the end. Words don’t keep your mouth full of blood, your gut full of blood. I know my purpose when I see the fear in their eyes, taste it in their agony. That is my purpose.”
“Then you are worse than an animal.”
She laughed, a throaty laugh that ricocheted through the room. “More words. What good are they?”
“Not words, Elita, faith. I can’t convince you with my words, but I can with my faith. I have faith we are not mere predators with minds. I have faith we do serve a purpose, that we are not killing machines driven on by urges we cannot control. I hav
e faith this immortality, this power, is not ours by accident. We have a reason, Elita. It may be unclear, but we have a reason.”
He leaned back and laced his fingers together behind his head, staring at the ceiling. “You remain in this world, you are here with me now, because I have faith in you. Don’t look so surprised. I need you.”
“Me. What could you possibly need from me?”
“Look around you. This is my war room. It is from here the battle against Julius, when it comes, will be waged. But at another level; it will be fought from here.” He thumped his fist on his chest and the undead heart beating below.
“My heart against Julius’ mind, his ego. His thoughts against my faith. When the heart and the mind are at war, there can be no winner. I imagine neither of us will survive. But you will. You always survive. And if you survive, the faith must survive with you.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, I have no faith,” she snapped.
“But you have the capacity,” Lazarus said gently, “I know you love him, in your own fashion. Why else would you have stayed with him all these years? And I know you believe in, if not protecting the world, at least preserving the status quo. Why would you have tipped me off seven hundred years ago with MaryAnne. Those things would not be possible without heart.”
Her chin trembled slightly and tears fought their way to the corners of her eyes, but she swiped them away viciously. “You are out of your mind. A dreamer. A hopeless romantic. I tipped you off because I was jealous, petty as that may sound. When Julius denied me the chance to share in the girl’s blood, when it became clear that he and I would no longer be equals, I decided the girl had to be removed. It was jealousy,” she said. “You are so wrong about me.” She stood and dropped her cigarette and ground it out with her bare foot, then stormed off, slamming the door behind her.
He could hear her retreat as it grew distant. “For your sake, I almost wish I was,” he said softly, reaching for another HoHo. He touched the button in the wall. “Carlos, it’s time.”
FORTY-NINE
“I apologize for making myself so scarce,” Lazarus said. “Matters concerning our safety demanded my attention.”
It was the start of a new night and Lazarus was speaking to Lizzie and Tucker, who sat before the open fire, Rex and Alexandra curled together at their feet. Elita sat across the room, glaring at Lazarus as he spoke. Dad and Sully were playing checkers, but stopped when Lazarus entered.
He walked quickly to Tucker and offered his hand. “You must be Tucker.” His grip was firm and cool.
“Yep. And you must be Lazarus. The real Lazarus? I mean, the one from the bible?”
“The same.” Tucker whistled under his breath and Lazarus moved to Lizzie, who stood. “Elizabeth, what can I say? I have waited a long time.”
Lizzie said nothing. She was too nervous to speak. Lazarus drew her into his massive arms and hugged her tightly. “I’ve missed you, child. Not a day passed I did not think of you.”
“Then why didn’t you contact me sooner?” she asked.
He nodded gravely. “I was tempted. Sorely tempted. But Constance, your mother, thought it best to keep you far from the world of the undead for as long as possible.”
“Great plan,” Tucker mumbled.
“Ah, my cynical friend.” He turned to face Tucker, a wry smile on his face. “How unfortunate for you to become enmeshed in our world, especially poised at the brink of such change. But how lucky you are to receive the love of Lizzie. You must agree, she is an exceptional woman.”
“No argument there,” Tucker said.
He bent over to pet Rex. “What a charming animal, already becoming close with my favorite hound.”
“Careful,” Tucker called, “he don’t cotton much to vampires. He might,” Rex rolled over and let Lazarus scratch his tummy. Tucker sighed. “He might slobber all over your hand.”
“I wish that this was a social visit,” Lazarus said. “We could talk about old times and drink too much, stay up until dawn. But unfortunately, it is under much more regrettable circumstances.”
“Regrettable?” Tucker blurted out. “We got most of the vampires in the world chasing us. A month ago I thought all I had to worry about was someone using my toothbrush and drinking my beer, and now I don’t even know if I’m going to live until tomorrow, and you say it’s regrettable. I thought I was good with understatement.” Lizzie elbowed him in the ribs.
“What? What?” he asked.
“Mr. Tucker is right,” Lazarus continued. “By my reckoning, Julius will be here by tomorrow night. He may already be close.”
“Why don’t we just ask her?” Tucker said, glaring at Elita. “I’m sure she knows his plans.”
She smiled slowly, infuriatingly, at Tucker.
“Elita has switched allegiances,” Lazarus said.
“Never switch horses in midstream,” Tucker said. “That’s what my dad always told me.”
“He also told you that headlights on a dark road were giant, man-eating insects called hootenhoppers,” Lizzie said.
“You told her about that?” Tucker asked Dad, who nodded sheepishly in response. “Well, I never believed it. Not for long, anyways,” Tucker said.
“From what Sully told me, Elita could have killed him and your father both,” Lazarus said.
“Stop talking about me like I’m not here,” Elita said. “You’ll hurt my feelings.”
“As far as I’m concerned, you ain’t here,” Tucker said.
“Tucker, stop it,” Lizzie said. “She’s one of us now. Trust me.”
“It’s not you I don’t trust,” he said. “You didn’t try to poke a hole through me.” Elita eyed her fingernails circumspectly and beamed over at him. “There’s no way I can trust her. You can’t teach an old dog new tricks.”
As if to emphasize his point, Rex sat up and scratched, then plopped back down beside Alexandra.
Lizzie took him by the arm. “The voices told me to trust her. So I will. End of story.”
He sat down, his shoulders slumped.
Lazarus pulled up a rocking chair made of twisted, unfinished pine. “The voices, you say? Then I was right. I was right.” He clapped his hands together in glee and looked at a confused Elita. “You see, I was right.”
Elita lit a fresh smoke and tried her best to pretend she was alone in the room.
“The only voices I hear are the ones telling me I’m loco for sitting here waiting for Julius to come traipsing in and rip us all into shredded wheat,” Tucker said. “This place looks like something out of Better Homes and Gardens. I mean, sure, you got a big fence and some high-dollar machine guns on the wall, but goddamn it, we’re talking about pissed off vampires here. What the hell are we doing sitting on our thumbs and waiting?”
Lazarus grimaced, as if the seriousness of the subject pained him. “There is no safer place in the world. Don’t let appearances fool you. This entire compound is built with one thing in mind: defense against the vampire. As you already know, the entire structure is surrounded by a minefield. The thermite mines have delayed delivery systems that trigger at waist height. Quite nasty. The machine guns you noticed on the turrets are laser-targeted 40-mm miniguns, firing at a rate of close to a thousand rounds a minute. Not to be grisly, but they are capable of inflicting such damage as to be almost lethal to a vampire.
“The entire perimeter area is monitored by a variant of global positioning grid technology. If a leaf falls, my men know it. And I have quite a contingent here. Four hundred strong and equipped with some of the finest military hardware money can buy. Incendiary, wooden-tipped projectile weapons. You name it, we have it. Does that make you feel better?”
“A little,” Tucker said. “But I don’t understand why we’re just laying low. Doesn’t that make us sitting ducks? Sounds like you got quite a fortress all right, but it strikes me that just staying ahead of Julius until her, you know, monthly, womanly thing is over, that might be easier. Why not put us on a plane to Katmandu?”
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Lazarus started to respond, but Lizzie interrupted. “Julius knows where I am all the time,” she said. “He can sense me. There is nowhere to hide.”
“I was not aware you knew,” Lazarus said quietly.
“I’ve been experiencing some profound shifts in my perceptions. I can sense him as well,” Lizzie said.
“Is he close?” Tucker asked. “Can you sense him right now? Is he outside listening?”
She shook her head. “Unfortunately, it’s not very accurate yet. Only occasional whiffs, so to speak.”
There was a heavy silence in the room, and underneath it a mixture of fear and resignation. The knowledge that Julius was aware of her exact location at all times hammered home the reality — he was coming, and there was no place to hide.
“I think I’d feel better if I could call in a friend of mine,” Tucker said at last.
“An Adamite?” Lazarus asked.
“Of course an Adamite. I don’t have any vampire friends.” He looked at Sully who frowned theatrically. “No offense. That’s changing. But my buddy is kind of a genius when it comes to weapons. Couldn’t hurt to have him on our side for this.”
“That’s right,” added Dad. “Maybe he can bring down some of the local militia. Them boys are fearless.”
Lazarus shrugged. “Make the call. I can send a plane. They can be here by morning.”
“I’d appreciate that. And a cup of coffee.”
“Me too,” Dad chimed in, “and could you put a dollop of whiskey in there?”
Lazarus nodded and spoke softly into the wall speaker. Moments later, Carlos carried in a tray with drinks. He handed the coffees to the Adamites, a hot chocolate with peppermint schnapps to Lazarus, a carafe of blood to Elita, and a porcelain teapot with a matching cup to Lizzie. “It’s ginger tea. I heard you complaining about a touch of indigestion.”
“Carlos, that’s so sweet. Thank you.”
“There are a few things from the past I should tell you about,” Lazarus said, wiping whipped cream from his lip. “This is not an entirely new scenario. Many years ago, a situation nearly identical to this developed. A young woman believed to have the power was turned by Julius. Julius wanted her power then as badly as he wants yours now. I was unaware of his plans until the last moment. If not for a tip,” he shot a look at Elita only Tucker caught, “things would be very different today.”
