by Alex Dire
Norman walked across the room along the side of the table, sliding his hand along its edge. He could feel the details of the ivy carvings as the tips of his fingers traced a path down the table. A wide arch led to the next room of the house, a living room.
As Norman neared the opening, he stopped. A shot of adrenaline coursed through his body. Along the wall on the far edge of the living room was a sofa. Chubs sat directly in the center. He stared past Norman, stoically. At first, Norman was relieved. The reason for his visit to the heart of the enemy was actually here and hadn’t joined the pursuit of Rufus and company. He approached with caution hoping Chubs wouldn’t attack.
“Where is he?” Norman asked. “I can save him. I can save you.”
The corners of Chubs’ mouth lifted into the hint of a smile and a soft snicker escaped his throat. “It’s too late, Mr. Bernard. I’m a monster.” Then his smile faded and his countenance revealed a sadness. “I’ve always been a monster.”
Chubs may have given up on himself, but Norman wouldn’t. This boy wasn’t a monster He was a student, Norman’s student.
“Stanley. Where’s your brother. We can save him. It’s not too late for you.”
Chubs’ eyes flicked over to Norman.
Something moved across the living room.
Norman looked over to see a staircase with two black boots making their way down. As the figure descended, more became revealed until finally, the last of the form emerged, with its shock of near-white hair.
“You can’t save them all, Norman,” said Skeete. “They’re mine now.” The corners of her mouth turned down and her eyes grew distant. “You know, I had a brother once. I would have done anything for him. I tried to. We do so much for the ones we love.” Her smile returned. “Don’t we, Stanley?”
All of the life drained from Chubs’ face as Skeete spoke. His shoulders slouched and all Norman could see in the once-raging and spastic adolescent was resignation.
“Maybe I can’t save them all, Skeete,” replied Norman. “But I can save Stanley and his brother.”
This seemed to amuse Skeete even more. “Oh Norman, you don’t think I’m going to let you take my new best friend, do you?” Skeete sat next to Chubs and placed an arm around his neck, stroking the side of his face. “We’ve become so close.” Then she directed her words at Chubs. “You don’t want to leave so soon, do you ‘Stanley?’” She slowed her speech with Chubs’ real name as if to mock it.
Chubs shook his head. Norman knew the streets had always had a tight grip on Stanley Marshall. Now it seemed that Skeete had wrestled that grip away and claimed him for her own. She had found Chubs’ only weakness and had exploited it to its fullest.
Norman realized that despite any connection he’d formed with this young man, he couldn’t rely on it any more. The rage Chubs had once summoned in Norman and his classmates’ defense was now directed against him.
Skeete had taken Chubs away from Norman. Students became like family, and Skeete was using Norman’s family against him, just as she used Daeshaun against Chubs. Hot rage filled Norman’s chest.
“I’m taking him, Skeete, and you can’t stop me.”
Skeete made a face like she was looking at a cute puppy. “Oh Norman, I have no intention of stopping you.” Then she curled her lips into a sinister smile. “Do I, Stanley?” She took a tiny nibble from Chubs’ ear as she removed her arm from around him.
46
The Math
For a fraction of a second, Norman saw debate in Chubs’ face. Then he leapt off the couch and attacked.
Norman quickly twisted his body and pushed Chubs’ chest to allow the bulk of his mass to pass him by. Chubs, although new to vampirism, had vast hand-to-hand combat experience from his day-to-day human struggles. As he sailed past, he managed to grab Norman’s wrist. They tumbled to the ground together.
Norman was older and far more powerful than this new member of the dark tribe. However, he felt handicapped. He desperately wanted to avoid hurting Chubs. He could play defense, but it would only be a matter of time before Chubs either seized on a vulnerable moment or Norman would have to use deadly force to defend himself.
They rolled over each other with their momentum. When they stopped, Chubs sat on Norman’s chest, pinning his arms down above his head.
Norman heard the creak of the stairs across the living room. Chubs, apparently not used to such sensitive hearing, jerked his head toward the stairs to look. Skeete was making her way back up.
“Have fun, Chubs,” she said. “Come upstairs when you’re done.”
Norman felt Chubs’ grip relax a tiny amount. Skeete’s words had ripped him out of the moment. She really had her hooks into him. His eyes glazed.
“Stanley, you don’t have to do this. We can save Daeshaun.”
Chubs looked back down into Norman’s eyes. His eyebrows wrinkled. Norman saw him thinking.
“I know he’s in this house. Let’s go get him. Together.”
Chubs remained silent. Norman searched his face for clues to his thinking. He saw questions. Questions meant possibility.
“It’s not too late,” added Norman.
These words seemed to have the opposite effect on Chubs. The emotion drained from his face.
“It’s always been too late for me, Mr. Bernard.” Resignation returned to Chubs’ face.
Damn it.
Before Chubs had a chance to re-tighten his hold on Norman’s wrists, Norman slid his hands free and rolled him over. Now on top, he stood, lifting Chubs up over his head and hurling him across the room. Chubs flew with tremendous velocity, striking the living room window and smashing through.
Before Chubs hit the ground outside, Norman had already dashed halfway up the stairs. He stopped at the top, confronted by a hallway with three doors along each side. At the other end of the hall, there was another set of stairs leading up. He listened closely for Skeete and whatever else might confront him. He heard movement through the middle door on the left. Then, at the edge of his ability, he heard the faint sobbing.
Norman let out a sigh. He allowed himself to feel relief for only a moment. Then, he dashed toward the stairs on the opposite end of the hall, following the sound. As he did so, he heard the thud of Chubs hitting the street outside. Chubs groaned in pain.
In the middle of this thought, a door on the left swung in and Skeete exploded out, sending them both crashing through the opposite door.
Norman landed on his back and slid to a stop on the hardwood floor. Skeete rolled to her feet, raising up her right hand which clasped a short, ornately carved stake.
Skeete dropped down onto Norman, swinging her arm into killing position above Norman’s heart. There was a time when this would have been the end of Norman. Skeete was so much older, more powerful, and vastly more experienced. However, her new invincibility had robbed her of some of that power. Norman managed to lift a shoulder off the ground, placing it in the line of Skeete’s attack.
She drove the stake down with brutal force. She wasn’t toying with Norman any more. She was killing him.
As the point pierced Norman’s shoulder, it felt as if a hole was being torn rather than punctured. He felt every fiber and splinter ripping its way into his muscle. Blood gushed out covering the stake in red ooze.
He clenched his teeth with the intense pain. He felt the wound weakening him. Normally, healing would begin immediately, but not with a wound filled with wood. Norman would not be able to deflect another blow in this state. He tried to grip the stake in panic, but couldn’t break Skeete’s grip.
This was where Skeete would typically add a snarky remark, something about Norman’s luck or a jab at his manliness. However, he saw only murder in her eyes. She was done playing with him. She wanted to be rid of him.
Norman wriggled his body, trying to shake her loose. He pulled his shoulder, but the pain of the wooden point surged from his shoulder through his whole body.
He pulled at the stake for a second blow. It had
, however, become lodged in the joint at Norman’s shoulder. She tugged hard at the blood-slickened stake and her hand slipped off.
In one motion, Norman lowered his shoulder back to the ground and grabbed the stake. As he moved, he felt the wood tearing at his flesh. His relaxed shoulder joint released its grip on the point and Norman quickly withdrew it. He swiped it across Skeete’s face, leaving a line of blood that crossed from her left ear in a diagonal line that went through her eye. She fell back, screaming in pain and covering her bleeding eye with her hand.
As her weight fell off Norman, he sprang to his feet. He knew the wooden stake wouldn’t kill her, but it would slow her down. That’s all he needed.
“Don’t you ever get tired of this?” Norman said.
He leapt onto her, driving the stake deep into her chest, where it pierced her human heart. It might not finish her, but it would hurt like hell. He rose back to his feet as she screamed and writhed. He left the stake in her chest. Her body would heal from the wound, but it would take longer with a piece of wood in it.
At the edge of perception, Norman heard Chubs outside, getting up off the pavement. Norman would have to move. With inhuman speed, he dashed to the end of the hall and ascended the stairs in two bounds. At the top was a small foyer with two doors on each side. Norman paused for an instant to listen. Behind one of the doors, he heard gentle sobbing.
He crept inside. Daeshaun sat in the corner of the room, hugging his knees. In these last few days, the horrors that this boy had seen must have far surpassed the experiences his older brother had gone through on the streets.
Norman heard Chubs on the front steps. Skeete’s screaming had ceased. They would both be on him soon. He mustered as kind a face as he could and put his finger to his lips. The child looked up at him and stopped crying. Norman wasn’t sure if it was out of fear or if the boy remembered him. He picked Daeshaun up in an awkward grasp. How do you hold a child? He dashed to the single window of the room, carrying the boy over his shoulder like a sack. He flicked the window open with one arm and leapt out.
As he hit the street, he caught a faint exchange of words between Chubs and Skeete inside.
Skeete’s voice had regained some vigor. “My hero. Nice of you to show up. Your teacher went out the window. Why don’t we kill him together? It’ll be a family project. Don’t worry, your brother’s upstairs with two…babysitters.”
As Norman put distance between himself and number 227 Amory, the words faded out. He knew this last statement was a lie. There was no one left in the house. He wondered if he should just stop and show Chubs that he’d rescued his brother. Perhaps he would be able to talk to him then, to enlist him.
But the glow on the horizon brightened. In a few moments, the sun would peak over the treetops and buildings, and he’d become a pile of ash. Norman might have just enough time to reach the rendezvous and find some shade, if his mental calculations were correct. He was an English teacher, though. Math was never his strong suit.
47
Border Skirmish
Norman leapt over the tracks of an old freight line as he returned to the derelict warehouse district of the city. He sped around a corner and slowed. The narrow street had tall buildings on either side, whose shadows preserved the night’s darkness for a few extra moments.
He saw the old building where he’d taken Richie all those weeks ago to practice avoiding daylight. As he neared, he saw his students on the roof of the building. Moments later, they noticed him and waved frantically.
Stay down, damn it.
Norman spotted a Corps V. vampire posted outside the building. The short sentry had apparently heard the commotion on the roof and was looking up to inspect. He began climbing the ladder to the roof. In a few moments, he’d be up and it would be over for the students.
The small child over his shoulder, prevented Norman from intervening. If he put Daeshaun down, Skeete and Chubs would snatch him up in seconds. Perhaps it wouldn’t be a bad thing for Chubs to stumble upon his brother. He’d see Skeete’s lies and have Daeshaun back. No, too risky. Norman needed to keep the child close and out of danger.
He watched helplessly as the vampire guard climbed the ladder toward his defenseless students. Norman looked eastward, searching for the sun, hoping it would prevent the vampire from reaching the building’s apex. He grew frantic as the Corps. V reached the final rung. The sky brightened, but Norman couldn’t yet see that deadly point of light that signaled sunrise.
The vampire reached the top and looked over the edge of the building. His face tightened in anger. He hissed and his fangs descended as he leapt from the top of the ladder onto the rooftop and out of Norman’s view. The students were doomed and with them, the hopes of his friends inside the warehouse.
Unable to hold back, Norman ran to the bottom of the ladder and put a foot onto the first rung. He shifted Daeshaun’s weight and heaved himself up onto the ladder.
Before he could take the next step, he heard a voice screaming out from above. He knew it was one of his students. How many would he lose before he could get to the top of the building? He looked up, desperate to see what was happening. A familiar face peered back.
Declan stood at the top of the wall, holding the Corps. V vampire above his head. He gave a heave, sending the vampire plummeting down the side of the building. The short Corps. V bounced against the side of the building twice before landing on his face. The impact snapped his neck at a grotesque angle. Norman shuddered at the contorted form.
He heard another scream from above. Declan ducked down and out of his view, yelling in pain. The sun had risen.
“Declan!” he shouted. “Get down here now!”
Declan reappeared, his face smoldering. He kept his head as low as he could, but Norman could see flecks of light burning his face and head as he bobbed up and down. Norman saw that he worked hard to slide Felicia safely over the edge of the building and onto the ladder. He then climbed over the edge himself into shadow and began to descend.
Norman stepped down and placed Daeshaun on the ground. “I told you to wait inside,” scolded the teacher.
Felicia reached the bottom. “We did, but it was just a bunch of vampires in there. Creepy.”
Norman felt relieved that they’d been up there to protect his class and ashamed that he was not.
Declan finished his descent, his head still smoking. “That’s Chubs’ brother. What’s he doing here?”
“No time,” said Norman. “Let’s get in…”
Suddenly the freshly recovered, Corps. V guard leapt onto Norman’s back and bit savagely into his shoulder. Blood spurted from wound, drenching the short vampire’s face.
Norman writhed, trying to shake the little enemy loose.
Declan peeled him off with a growl. “I thought I told you to drop dead.”
He smashed the vampire back down to the ground. Felicia leapt on the enemy and thrust a stake into his chest. He screamed and expired.
Felicia had always been a fast learner and perhaps Declan had few surprises in him as well. No time to dwell on it now. The sun was up. They had to get inside.
48
Morning
Norman lead them around the building to the green door. He tried to be stealthy, but the rising sun urged haste. Had the Corps. V horde arrived as planned? Had they found and killed his friends? Was Norman too late?
He slowly twisted the corroded knob. It groaned as Norman eased the door open. Norman slid his head in the opening and peered inside.
In the center of the open area of the warehouse, a huge horde of Corps. V vampires. A few turned to see him.
“It’s the teacher!” shouted one.
Norman’s instincts engaged in a very brief fight-or-flight debate. It was extremely one-sided. Stay, fight, and probably be killed, or run into the sunlight and die instantly. If he stayed, at least he might take a few with him. He didn’t know what to do about Daeshaun. There were simply no options left so he gently maneuvered him off to
the side of the door.
“Stay outside,” he said mustering as much gentleness as the circumstances would allow. “Hide.”
Daeshaun stood and blinked up at Norman. Norman placed a hand on his shoulder. “We’ll come back for you. Go.”
The boy flitted away along the side of the warehouse.
Norman threw open the door and stood in the entryway, framed by reflected light cast by the rising sun. Declan and Felicia moved in behind him.
“Are you ready? Stick to the plan and we might just get through this.” Norman didn’t really believe it, though. It had always been a risky plan. Facing the Corps. V horde, Norman questioned it more than ever.
He strained to see into the shadows across the warehouse. Rufus crawled out from under an old, metal shelving unit that had fallen and now leaned against the wall. Behind Rufus was the rest of the tiny VR contingent.
The Corps. V began to hiss and growl. Norman heard the soft, wet sound of fangs descending.
“My name is Norman Bernard. I never took sides in this war…until now. I’m giving you one chance to surrender. If you refuse, we will kill you all. No one will be spared. Either way, the war ends today.”
Three huge, muscular Corps. V made their way to the front of the group. The largest had a completely shaved head and a military tattoo on his arm. Norman put on his teacher face, hiding his fear as he realized that he now faced three Corps. V army regulars.
The tattooed soldier spoke. “My name is Helmut. I don’t know who the hell you think you are, but you got one thing right. The war ends today. First, I’m going to kill you. Then, I’m going to tear your head off and use it to beat those two children to raw meat. After that, I’m going to kill them and the rest of your pathetic friends.” In a blur he swung his arm, flicking something that had dangled from his belt.
