A Key, An Egg, An Unfortunate Remark

by Harry Connolly

  Evelyn laughed a little, then laid her hand on her throat. “Did I just monologue? Like, a real movie-villain monologue? Wow, I swore to myself that I never would, but when the opportunity presented itself, I simply couldn’t resist! My plan is just so damn good, and I’ve had to hold it in for so long... Letting it out felt incredible! So cathartic!”

  From his spot in the corner, Stan said, “You’re all mad.”

  Evelyn sighed and pulled the hood back over Marley’s head. “Genius is wasted on some people. Captain, have someone keep watch over them until morning, and change shifts. I don’t want your men to fall asleep during the long night.”

  “I know how to do my job,” he answered as she walked out.

  Albert wasn’t sure what to think. He didn’t have any frame of reference for what was going on, but he hoped his aunt could provide one. “Aunt Marley? Can we get a call in to the police?”

  “Absolutely not, Albert. I’m not bringing in the police. What if they shoot Evelyn or one of the gunmen?”

  “Actually,” Stan butted in, “I would be perfectly fine with that.”

  “Me, too,” Kevin added. “In fact, I’d really really really like that.”

  None of them could see the guard, but they all heard him tell them to shut up.

  “Besides, how could I?” Marley said. “They took our phones.”

  Albert kept his voice low. “Maybe the guard will lend you his if...”

  “Be quiet for a moment, please.”

  * * *

  In her office across town, Naima was packing her briefcase after another long day. She’d spent all afternoon trying to arrange a new blood supplier, and the whole evening assuring the vampires that they wouldn’t be locked in and left to starve. The newest one was especially troublesome; she didn’t have much trust in the institution, which was understandable, but still annoying. And her boyfriend! How could he have spent more than twenty years as a companion without learning how to draw blood? What had he been doing all that time?

  Her phone rang. She sighed and glanced at the screen. Strangely, the display didn’t show a number for the incoming caller. It didn’t even show that it was from a blocked number. It rang again and she put the receiver to her ear.

  The voice at the other end was Marley’s. “Naima, I need you and our guests.”

  CHAPTER FORTY

  The Spirit of Tortures Past

  Unfortunately, Marley didn’t know where she was, and couldn’t direct Naima to an address. The only thing she could say was that she was probably somewhere near the Sculpture Park. Naima set her desk phone to forward calls to her cell, then gathered the residents into a windowless van to take up a position near the park and wait.

  In the condo, Marley lowered her face to the carpet to slide her blindfold off. A gun barrel pressed against the side of her head.

  “No,” the gunman said.

  Marley stayed perfectly still. “I’m just an old woman. You’re not going to make me sit here on the carpet for hours without being able to see, are you?”

  The only response was, “Shut up.”

  They sat that way for over an hour, forbidden to talk or take off their blindfolds. Marley and Albert grew increasingly bored and even Kevin slowly became accustomed to his situation. Only Stan seemed to be struggling. His breathing became more labored and he sounded more miserable. After a long while, he began groaning in pain.

  “Excuse me,” Marley said. “Can we have something for Stan to eat? A piece of candy, maybe, or some fruit? His blood sugar is crashing.”

  “No,” the guard said. “Let it crash.”

  “But it’s a terrible way to die. I know you’re planning to kill us all, but you could at least show a little mercy.”

  “What’s this about mercy?” a new voice asked. It was Nora. She had entered the room without a sound—Albert guessed the living room door was open.

  “Who’s there?” Marley called out, pretending she hadn’t recognized her voice. “Who’s speaking?”

  “It’s us,” Nora answered.

  “You gotta go,” the guard said. “You ain’t cleared to talk to the prisoners.”

  Audrey answered in a low, whispery voice, “I’m going to get my gloat going here, and you better not get in my way.”

  “We’re just gonna talk,” Nelson assured him.

  “Are we?” Marley snapped. “I don’t see any reason to chat with people who gun down innocents.”

  “Why don’t you take a break?” Nora said, as though Marley hadn’t spoken. “Your boy is just in the hall, and I noticed nobody brought you a plate from downstairs.”

  “All right then,” the gunman answered. “Leave this door open.”

  Albert spoke up. “Are they the ones who shot Libertad?”

  “And Janet,” Marley answered. “Evelyn didn’t care about our blood drives, and once she had her egg she didn’t give a damn about those old lefties, either. They were shot at simply because they were seen with us.”

  “Shot at badly, too,” Albert added.

  “That’s how we deal with a vampire’s organization,” Nora said, a little annoyed. “When the head dodges us, we strike at the edges to draw them out.”

  “Called it,” Albert said.

  “Those Educatorium people aren’t part of my organization!” Marley was genuinely offended. “God forbid. We spoke to them about a murder your new friend has committed. They’re just average citizens, and average citizens don’t even believe in vampires.”

  “Like us!” Kevin chimed in. “Stan and I don’t believe in vampires, either. In fact, I can’t even believe I’m lying here on the floor, all handcuffed.”

  “That’s on you, Marley Jacobs,” Audrey said. “You’re the one who dragged them into this.”

  “And you’re the one,” Marley said, her blindfolded face turned slightly toward the sound of Audrey’s voice, “who does all the nasty things these other two don’t have the stomach for. You’re the one who gets your hands bloody.”

  “That’s me. I bat cleanup.”

  “We’re not here to talk about us,” Nora said.

  “I can see why! It must be dreadfully embarrassing.”

  “We’re here to talk about your organization. It’s over. I know you think you were doing good by running your little rest home, but you’re not going to live out the day and what do you think is going to happen then? Everything you built is going to come apart. Those vampires won’t have you to look after them, and they’re going to start hunting. In your city.”

  “Oh, go back to Memphis. You don’t care about my city.”

  “I care about these creatures getting loose. Tell us where they’re hiding. We can put them to rest before they start killing real people, and if you cooperate, we’ll spare the humans protecting them.”

  “You can’t lie to me, dear. You might want to spare the vampires’ caregivers, but you can’t. Your little Audrey is getting harder and harder to control—“

  “Don’t call me little.”

  “You can’t promise to spare anyone, no matter how innocent they are. Look at Stan over there; he’s just a man caught up in powers he doesn’t even believe in, and none of you will offer a piece of candy to ease his suffering. I’ll tell you, there are worse things in this world than vampires.”

  “Well,” Audrey said, and blindfolded or not, everyone could hear by the way she spoke that she was smiling. “I do believe she’s referring to me.”

  “Of course I am, dear. I recognized you for what you are at first glance. Vampires kill to survive. You kill for pleasure. So, no, I wouldn’t make a deal with you, even if you three hadn’t been foolish enough to side with Evelyn Thomas.”

  “You and your kind are my enemy,” Nora said. “And the enemy of my enemy is my friend.”

  “Psh. The enemy of my enemy is my ally, dear. Not a friend.”

  Albert cleared his throat. “Did you know I can see the future?”

  “That doesn’t seem likely,” Nelson said, “c
onsidering.”

  “But it’s totally true. Listen. I’m going to tune in.” He began to hum as if in meditation, then let his voice waver from screeches to hissing sounds, like a radio searching for a signal. “Wait!” he said in his best fortune teller voice, as Nora and the others shuffled their feet and exhaled in irritation. “Wait, it’s becoming clear to me. Yes. Yes! Before this day is over, you’re going to realize you that you have, in fact, picked the wrong side. You’ll have dozens—maybe hundreds—of innocent deaths on your consciences unless you switch now.”

  Nora didn’t like that. “You may—“

  “It. Is. Your. Destiny!” Albert finished.

  Marley laughed loudly and brightly. “Oh Albert, I wish I could see this side of you more often.”

  Nora tried again: “You may think you’re funny but I... you don’t have a choice here.”

  “That’s nonsense, Nora, and it’s time you acknowledged it. You think, just because we’re in a tough spot, all our choices have been taken away, but that’s not so. Tough spots are when your choices matter most.”

  No one spoke for a while. Then Albert and Marley heard the sound of a candy wrapper crinkling, and a heavy tread on the carpet. Nelson said, “Here you go, man. Open up.” They heard the sound of a piece of hard candy clicking against teeth.

  “What’s going on?” the gunman said, having clearly just returned.

  “Think about my offer,” Nora said. They filed out.

  “Well,” Stan said, after he’d recovered a bit. “At least I won’t have a tummy ache when they shoot me to death. Thanks.”

  “Shut up,” the guard said.

  The hours crawled by, and the four of them eventually fell into a fitful sleep.

  Stamping feet and an approaching argument woke Marley. As she sat up, she made a point of rubbing the blindfold against the carpet to dislodge it.

  She had time enough to see that dim light shone through the narrow gaps in the drapes—morning was almost here—before Evelyn burst into the room.

  “This is why I didn’t want you to kill her last night. Search her! Marley, did you think you could play games with me? Did you think you could do anything but waste a little bit of my time?”

  Three gunmen immediately began tearing through Marley’s pockets, ripping the sleeves of her jacket, yanking off her socks and shoes, and tearing the pockets of her pants. The men searched her thoroughly, but didn’t find anything.

  Then they searched Albert in the same rough way, then Kevin, then Stan, yanking their pockets open and pulling off their shoes and socks.

  “Nothing,” the captain said.

  “No! That’s not true! She found it in the storage unit! I saw her!”

  “Either she led us to another fake, or there is no correct one, because it don’t work.”

  Evelyn’s eyes were wild and her voice raw. “I don’t accept that! I can’t afford another delay! The egg is in place and will be discovered if we leave it for too long. The time is now!” She rushed out of the room, returning a few seconds later with a cast-iron skillet and a bottle of expensive olive oil.

  Marley turned pale.

  “Aloysius warned me about you,” Evelyn said. She spun the top of the bottle off and poured two fingers of oil into the skillet. “So I did some research. This is what happened to Gustavo, isn’t it? Your fiancé? Someone—the police never figured out who—poured boiling oil over him, then into his screaming mouth.”

  “Don’t do this, Evelyn.”

  Evelyn’s voice trembled with stress. “I don’t want to do it, Marley, but you’re not leaving me any other options! Your nephew is going to die screaming right in front of your eyes.”

  “Aunt Marley!” Albert called. His voice was even shakier than Evelyn’s. “Aunt Marley, it’s okay. It’ll only hurt a little while—“

  Evelyn stood and started toward the kitchen, skillet in hand. “If that’s your decision, then fine.”

  “Under my jacket!” Marley said. “It’s under my jacket.”

  Evelyn dumped the skillet on the coffee table and flipped Marley’s jacket open. There, folded in half and as big as life, was the envelope they’d found in Stan’s storage unit.

  The captain rounded on his men. “How could you have missed that?”

  “They didn’t,” Evelyn snapped. “It wasn’t there before. Haven’t you been paying attention? Now guard them while we wrap this up.” She turned to Marley. “If this is another fake, so help me...”

  Marley couldn’t meet her gaze.

  Evelyn and the captain left. a few minutes later, a sudden strange feeling washed over them. It felt as though the entire universe was a guitar string, and a giant hand had plucked it.

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  We Know the Rules

  “Earthquake!” Kevin yelled.

  “I only wish it were,” Marley said. She rolled to her knees. Voices down the hall were shouting in alarm, and the guard raced out of the room toward the sound.

  “Oh, good,” Stan said, rubbing his face against the floor to push his hood off. “They’re leaving us alone.” The others began to do the same thing.

  “Not for long,” Marley told him. “They’ll be coming back to kill us any moment, so let’s move. Quietly! Quietly!”

  She shuffled toward the kitchen on her knees. Kevin scrambled after her the same way. Stan, feeling weak and exhausted, rolled across the floor, bumping against the coffee table and couch in the corner.

  Albert rolled back onto his shoulders, swept his handcuffed hands under his legs to the front of his body then rolled forward to gain his feet. “Come on, you guys.” He lifted Marley off her knees, then helped Stan up.

  Marley led them around the counter into the kitchen. “Crouch down.” They did. “And keep quiet.”

  “Why are we hiding on the kitchen floor?” Kevin asked.

  “To create a two-second delay in finding us, obviously,” Stan answered.

  “Hey.” Albert’s whisper was sharp. “She asked for quiet. Let her concentrate.” It clearly took some effort, but Stan shut his mouth.

  Marley knelt at the edge of the kitchen counter, peeking into the living room through a shelf crowded with empty glass bottles. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Then another. Two gunmen ran back into the room. “Who told you to leave your post?”

  “I heard you call for me, sir.”

  Audrey rushed into the room, plastic bags in her hands. She knelt on the carpet just opposite the space where Marley and the others had spent the night, then laid out her plastic bags one by one.

  “It wasn’t me. Now help her clean up this mess.”

  “Sir, we should just shoot them. This isn’t decent.”

  Audrey turned her back on them. Her eyes were bright and her smile savage. “Bullets draw police the way dead rats draw maggots,” she said. “You don’t have to watch if you’re squeamish.”

  She leaned forward, plastic bag in hand, and mimed placing it over someone’s head. She pulled the drawstring with exquisite care. The bag fluttered to the carpet. She did it again, and again, and again.

  “Thirty seconds to unconsciousness,” she said. “Three minutes to death.” Audrey’s face was alive with delight, and she giggled at something only she and the guards could see.

  “Sick,” the guard said.

  “The old ones are always the most terrified,” Audrey said, unable to look away from the blank wall. “You’d think it would be the young ones, but it’s not. Look at her face. None of the others are as frightened as she is.” Her voice turned whispery soft. “And I’m going to be the last thing she sees.”

  Marley controlled her breathing and held her eyes shut tight. Creating a false image of herself was hard enough, but creating one for four people—and having them all interact with a real human being—was a serious challenge. Finally, the thirty seconds was up, and her false images didn’t have to do anything but lie there, fluttering the illusory plastic bags with their illusory dying breaths. Finally, Ma
rley made them all become still.

  Audrey didn’t seem to want to move, as though she was kneeling in a church service she didn’t want to end.

  “That’s four minutes,” the captain said. Audrey sighed and left the room. She was almost glowing.

  The captain clapped the guard on the shoulder. “Not going to be sick, are you?”

  “Of course not, sir. Still, we should have just shot them. Anything else is un-American.”

  The captain guffawed. “Collect the handcuffs, then we meet downstairs in the front room.” He left.

  The guard knelt on the floor, tiny key in hand. As he tried to uncuff the first pretend corpse, he dropped his key. Cursing at himself, he grabbed it up, unlocked and pocketed the phantom handcuffs, then walked out of the room, shutting the door behind him.

  Marley concentrated for just a moment more, then opened her eyes and collapsed onto her side.

  “Aunt Marley!” Albert whispered. He caught and steadied her.

  “I’m all right. It’s just a strain to create a large and complicated trick; I need to prepare and to recover. Get to the window, dear, and tell me where we are.”

  Albert did exactly that, yanking back the drapes to the french doors and staring past the balcony into the faintly glowing light. “We’re several floors up, maybe four or five, too high to read the street sign, but there’s a Romio’s Pizza on the ground floor of the building catercorner from us. There’s a lot of traffic headed south.”

  * * *

  Out in the van, Naima’s phone rang. She answered it immediately. “Hello?”

  “It’s Marley. We’re in a condo, possibly on the fifth floor, directly catercorner from a Romio’s. We need you.”

  “That’s just down the block from here.”

  “One potential spell-caster all in white. Up to ten gunmen in black tactical. Three hunters.”

  “Hunters!”

  “You know the rules.”

  Naima dropped the phone into her pocket and started the engine. Behind her, the vampires fell silent in the darkness. At this very early hour, traffic was only just beginning to get heavy. She swerved away from the curb, nearly colliding with a Mazda, and raced toward the building up ahead.