Sheila stood there talking to our CEO. Hell, just a few weeks ago, I doubted he would have recognized her if he had run her down with his BMW. Yet there she was, looking him straight in the eye and talking as if they were old friends. I almost couldn't believe I was actually seeing her again. At the same time, though, it almost wasn’t her.
It's hard to explain, but she had changed. I could tell that just with a casual glance. Gone was her normal conservative apparel. She was dressed in a power-suit, an expensive one by the looks of it. She held herself straight and proud, an aura of confidence about her. Gone was the shy girl who had, just a short time ago, confided in me about not believing in herself. Standing there was a woman who looked like she could conquer anything that stood in her way.
Despite all of that, though, she was still the most amazing person I had ever seen...just more so, if that was even possible.
I stood there gawking like a complete idiot for what could have been hours for all I knew. She said her goodbyes and then her eyes shifted in my direction. Normally I would have picked that moment to dive into an unoccupied cubicle; however, I had changed too. With the fate of the world resting upon my shoulders, the very least I could do was stand my ground and say “hi.”
When she saw me, she broke out into a big smile and I could tell it was genuine. She was just that type of person (or it could just be wishful thinking on my part).
She walked over and I suddenly felt my veneer of bravery collapse (guess I hadn’t changed that much after all). It was as if the cool, confident part of my brain decided that now was the perfect time for a nap. Fucking asshole subconscious!
“So...you’re back?” I stammered, feeling sweat break out on my forehead.
“Hi, Bill,” she said, the warm smile never leaving her face.
“Sorry. I mean, it’s great to see you again. I didn’t know if...well...I would ever...”
She giggled at that. “You can’t get rid of me that easily. I’ve just been really busy.”
“I can imagine,” I replied, having no real clue. “So are you...they said efficiency experts...and...”
“Yes, and yes.” She reached into her breast pocket (oh, those heavenly breasts) and produced a business card. “Check it out.”
“I will,” I replied, absentmindedly sticking it into my own shirt pocket. That could wait until later. No way was I wasting a moment of our time together staring at a stupid business card.
We stood there in awkward silence for a few moments. Could it have been that she was as nervous as I was? Nah, not the way she looked. She was probably just thinking of a way to escape from my...
“You know, its weird running into you here.”
“Yeah, I know. The whole work from home thing...”
“No. It’s just that...this is going to sound a little bizarre, but I had the strangest dream about you the other night.”
“Really?” (please let it be a sex dream)
“Yeah. You were in the woods and these things were chasing you. Weird huh?”
I blinked stupidly at that for a moment. “Uh yeah...weird.” Holy crap, hadn't I dreamt of her too just a few nights ago? Well, OK, I tended to dream about her all the time. Still, maybe this was the sign I was looking for, the one that proved we were connected by fate. Yeah, I like that. Works for me.
“So, anyway,” she continued, “were you on your way out?”
“Um, yeah...just popped by to see Jim.”
“Well then I guess luck is with me twice today (it is?). That was my last meeting. Maybe you can walk me to the train.”
Maybe? Maybe!? If Alex, Turd, and Francois all appeared and said that I could do so, but only if I fought them all first, I’d dive right into that shit without a second thought.
So of course, I answered, “OK. I guess so.”
* * *
Someone pinch me. This must’ve been a dream. No, fuck that! Don’t pinch me, because I didn’t want to wake up. The walk to the train didn’t end there. We kept talking and laughing...and, well, just kept going. Eventually it turned into me walking her home. Holy fantastic fantasies, Batman.
Along the way, I learned a few things. Sheila’s little efficiency operation wasn’t quite so little. Hopskotchgames was just one of her clients. In a short time, she had used her contacts to get a foot in the door at several other companies all across SoHo. She now had a small staff and had even managed to secure a modest amount of venture financing.
“...and it’s mostly because of you,” she finished as we neared her apartment. We had been walking for a while, taking the scenic route so to speak. The sky was fully dark by the time we approached her stoop.
“Me? Yeah, I doubt that.”
“Don’t.” She stopped and looked me in the eye, serious. “You said it yourself. Sometimes we just need someone else to believe in us before we can believe in ourselves. You’re the one who gave me that push.”
“You would have gotten there yourself...”
“That’s just the thing,” she said, interrupting me. “I don’t know that. My other friends, my family...” she trailed off. “It’s hard to explain, but I know what I believe.”
“Oh,” I replied stupidly.
“I just wanted to say...thank you,” she finished, stepping closer, now edging into my personal space. Every wuss instinct in my body (of which there are quite a few) screamed at me to run.
No! I wouldn’t do that this time. There might never be another opportunity like this (especially if we all wound up enslaved by Bigfoot).
“You’re welcome,” I said, leaning in closer (and barely believing I was doing so).
This was it. Time to go for the kill, figuratively of course.
Our faces began to approach one another (Oh, yeah, T-minus seven to kissy face!). I looked deep into her eyes. I still couldn’t believe how much she had changed since last I had seen her. Everything about her was different, more confident: her demeanor, her attitude, her clothes, even her eyes seemed to have changed. Gone was the subtle grey they had been. Now they seemed to sparkle, almost like silver.
Our lips were about to touch (YES! This is it!)...
Wait a second...silver eyes!?
*KER-BLAM!!!*
One second I felt all tingly, almost like I was on fire. The next, I actually was on fire.
An explosion of white flame flared around me and I was catapulted backwards. The next thing I knew, I was lying in a pile of trash all the way across the street. Flames covered the front of my body, but through them, I could see her. She stood there, in shock but completely unhurt. A soft white glow surrounded her body. No fucking way!
Unfortunately, it wasn’t over for me. My body subconsciously reacted to the pain. I felt my eyes blacken against my will. My fangs and claws both extended as she started crossing the street toward me. But, I wasn’t done yet.
Oh, no! Not now!
Whatever dark power flows through a Freewill such as myself began to assert itself. I could feel the beast in me pushing its way out. I was starting to change.
“Stay back!” I warned.
But, Sheila just stood there, a mixture of confusion and fear upon her face.
“What are you?” was the last thing I heard her say before I stood and ran like my life depended on it. Both of ours may have.
* * *
“What the fuck happened to you?” Sally asked, taking the cucumber slices off her eyes long enough to give me the once over.
The worst of the damage had already healed, but I was covered in soot and my clothes were charred tatters. Fortunately, the change had subsided before fully taking hold. Getting away from Sheila had apparently been the key to that.
“She’s the Icon!” I shouted, near hysterics.
“Alfonzo, can you leave us for a moment?”
The effeminate little douche made a sniffing noise, but did as told. He walked from Sally’s office and shut the door behind him. Once we were alone, she sat up and said, “Now say that again.”
&nb
sp; “Sheila is the Icon.”
“Who?”
“That girl I like.”
“Oh, her,” she replied offhandedly. “How do you know?”
I gestured down at myself. “She blew me across the street.”
“She blew you on the street?”
“Across!”
“That is a bit different. Well how did it happen?”
“I tried to kiss her.”
“Really? You dog you!”
“Not funny, Sally.”
“Sorry,” she said, holding up her hands in a placating manner. “Well, it could have been worse.”
“Worse?”
“Yeah, you could have been banging her.”
“Not helping,” I growled. I got up and started to pace, tons of thoughts racing through my head, none of them good. “It’s all coming true.”
“The prophesies?”
“Yes! Me leading our armies in battle, and now this. Despite what I said to Christy, I actually did it. I created the Icon!”
“I’m sure you didn’t create her.”
I trudged over and explained everything. How I had believed in her and how that had somehow sunk in and caused a chain reaction. At last Sally’s eyebrows raised in surprise.
“I take it back. You did create her. Damn.”
“Damn is right.”
“I’m so sorry, Bill,” she said, suddenly losing the attitude.
“So am I.”
“No, I mean I’m really sorry.”
“Why?”
“You have a thing for her, don’t you?”
“You have no idea,” I sighed.
“Well, I’ve been doing a little digging. After that whole situation with Decker and Gan, I had Colin send me any information in the archives about this.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Sorry I didn’t tell you, but it all seemed like bad fairy tale bullshit.”
“What did?”
“The Freewill and the Icon...you’re arch-enemies.”
“Historically, yeah. I know that.”
“No, eternally,” she said, dead serious. “There are more prophesies about this than you know...hell probably lots more than I could uncover. But, they all say the same thing. You’re either going to kill the Icon, or the Icon is going to kill you.”
“Are you sure?”
She just nodded in reply.
I had no answer to that, not even a clue. I leaned forward on her desk and lowered my head, not wanting to think about it. As I did, something slipped out of the remains of my vest pocket. It fluttered down to the desk.
It was Sheila’s card, somehow undamaged. Perhaps enough of her aura had remained to protect it. Either way, Sally picked it up and read it.
“No fucking way.”
“What?” I asked.
She flipped over the card so I could read it too. I knew she was talking about the title, but the tagline did it for me. It confirmed what I already knew; that this was entirely my fault. I had done it. In trying to be supportive of my dream girl, I had somehow turned her into perhaps my greatest nightmare.
Iconic Efficiencies
We believe you can do better
-Sheila O’Connell, CEO
No fucking way, indeed.
I sank back down in the chair opposite Sally. Sometimes when life decides to shit all over you, it takes a mega-dump. I had seen some dark moments since becoming a vampire, but this was the first time when I could see absolutely no hope on the horizon. Damn. To say that it sucked to be me would be the understatement of a lifetime.
“I have no idea what to do.”
“Same here,” Sally said, sitting across from me. After a moment, she added, “But we’ll figure out something.”
“We?”
“Of course. Partners forever, right?”
“Seriously?”
“One-hundred percent.”
To my surprise, I actually smiled at that. “You know, Sally, for all the times you’re a complete bitch, I could really hug you right now.”
“You could try,” she replied with a smirk. “But I’d kick your ass.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. It was a good feeling. I decided to enjoy it because it would most likely be the last real laugh I was going to have in quite some time.
THE END
Bill Ryder will return in:
Holier Than Thou: The Tome of Bill, part 4
Coming soon
Can’t wait for more Bill? Follow his ongoing misadventures on Facebook at http://www.facebook.com/BilltheVampire
About the Author
Rick Gualtieri lives alone in central New Jersey with only his wife, three kids, and countless pets to both keep him company and constantly plot against him. He has won no literary awards and has received exactly zero accolades for his work in the past, present, and (most likely) future. When he’s not busy monkey-clicking out words, he can typically be found jealously guarding his collection of vintage Transformers from all who would seek to defile them.
Defilers beware!
Rick Gualtieri is also the author of:
Bill the Vampire (The Tome of Bill, Part 1)
Scary Dead Things (The Tome of Bill, Part 2)
Bigfoot Hunters
The Poptart Manifesto
To contact Rick (with either undying praise or rude comments) please visit http://www.poptartmanifesto.com
Bonus Chapter
Devil Hunters
A Tale of the Crypto Hunter
Prologue
“Is this going to take much longer?” Sophie Guiterrez asked, breaking the silence that permeated the dense forest. It amazed her that such a primal wilderness could exist here. She could barely believe that their destination, Atlantic City, was less than an hour’s drive away. There: crowds gathered upon the boardwalks and in the casinos; traffic snarled the streets, making parking anywhere except a garage a chancy proposition at best. Desolate was the last word anyone would use to describe it. Yet, despite its close proximity, Sophie felt as if it were nearly a world away. She wondered if her husband, John, felt the same way, but decided against asking him. Any distraction could mean a further delay in their plans. Considering he wasn’t even supposed to be here, she didn’t want to risk it.
“I just have to get a few more samples,” John called back from over his shoulder. He was kneeling at the bank of a small creek, little more than a trickle through the forest really, gathering water into a small container. Once done, he would seal it, mark it, and then place it with the other half-dozen or so samples he had already collected.
Grunting unhappily to herself, Sophie found a good-sized stump to sit down on. She knew John was passionate about his job. She just wished he would occasionally direct that passion elsewhere. That thought brought a small smile to her lips. If all went as planned, soon enough that would be the case. A suite at the Borgata awaited them, as well as a long weekend away from both of their jobs. It was their first real vacation since getting married nearly a year ago. At the time, money had been tight so they had forgone a proper honeymoon in favor of a cheap motel in the Poconos. However, better times had fallen on them as of late and though it wasn’t exactly an exotic getaway, the accommodations awaiting them were quite adequate.
Besides, it’s not like we plan on going out much anyway, she thought. For the past several months, she and John had been unsuccessfully trying to conceive. John claimed it was probably just stress from both of their jobs: he a government employee with the New Jersey Department of Environmental Protection, she an elementary school teacher in the Jackson Township school district. She couldn’t entirely disagree with him on that. He worked endless hours, while she had a long commute and unruly students on the best of days.
Still, it was beginning to worry her. They both wanted children, of that there was no disagreement. Unfortunately, in the back of her mind Sophie was starting to wonder if they might need to consider other options. Though she hadn’t discussed it with John yet, she knew fertilit
y problems ran in her family. Her mother had gone through menopause early in life, just barely in her mid-thirties. Even worse, Sophie’s sister, Julia, had undergone a hysterectomy a few years back due to complications with ovarian cysts. Deep down, Sophie wondered if they shouldn’t even now be considering a specialist.
The Mourning Woods - 03 Page 33
