The Pardoner's Tale

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The Pardoner's Tale Page 5

by Morgan Ferdinand


  Alex started singing with me, but stopped abruptly. "Uh, you're about to be less happy." He looked over the back of the seat and pointed at the red and blue flashing lights. I pulled over.

  "Y'know how fast you was goin'?" The officer spoke with a thick drawl. I heard Alex mutter something offensive about cops and I hoped he wouldn't speak any louder.

  "I'm sorry, sir. We've been driving all night and we were trying to get to that exit up there." I pointed and smiled benignly. At least I hoped it was benignly.

  "License and registration, please?"

  "You don't need to see the registration," Alex said as he opened the glove box to reach for it.

  "What you say, son?"

  "Nothing. Just a joke." He passed the registration to me, I handed it to the officer. When the policeman went back to his car I glared at Alex.

  "You don't need to see the registration?"

  Alex shrugged. "I thought it couldn't hurt to try."

  The policeman returned. He held the registration and my license between his index and middle fingers. "You know you have two unpaid parking tickets in Kentucky?"

  Shit. The last pickup I did for Albert. "Yes, Officer. I'll mail a check as soon as I'm back home." My back itched as sweat rolled down it. It felt like there were ants crawling across my neck.

  "I'm not gonna give you a ticket. Just watch your speed. Deer cross this highway and I've seen them fuck up a car something serious."

  "Thanks. We'll be careful." I waved and watched the officer walk back to his car, then pulled out slowly. I kept a nice, steady seven-miles-under the limit for the last stretch of highway before our exit. I noticed the cruiser behind us; it wasn't until we pulled into the motel's parking lot that it continued on and away. I was tired, hungry, and I really wanted a shower. The good mood I'd been in was evaporating. At least I hadn't ended up with another ticket. "Come on. Let's get a room."

  The clerk, a bored-looking old man, sneered when we came in. "Yeah?"

  "We need one unit, just for a few hours, until tonight. We'll be checking out about eight PM."

  The man held up a hand. "Don't care. You can play your dirty little sex games and keep your dirty little secret from your wives. I still get my full rate."

  Alex stared at the old man, eyebrows raised in amusement. "Actually, I'm a vampire. I need somewhere to hide out until the sun sets again."

  "Told you. Don't care. Seventy bucks if you pay by credit. One-forty if you pay cash."

  I looked up from the newspaper I'd picked up. "What! Why?"

  "In case you wreck anything. Cash, I'm covered up front. Credit, I just bill your card." He cackled at his own cleverness.

  Alex pulled one hundred sixty dollars from his wallet and slapped them down on the counter. "Keep the change. But I'm going to destroy a chair."

  The old man licked his lips and held the bills up to the light. He dropped a key on the counter. "Unit six," he murmured, still staring at the bills.

  Alex sat down on the bed and picked up the television remote. Pointing it at the armchair, upholstered in a particularly unattractive shade of greenish-yellow, he announced the chair's fate. "I'll actually be doing you a favor by shredding you, chair. They might wrap you in something nicer if they choose not to let you go to the great refinisher in the sky." He pressed a button on the remote and made a zapping sound. "Either way, you win."

  I shook my head and dropped my bag on the bed next to Alex. "I'm taking a shower, then I'm sleeping. I can't believe how much money we just blew on this shithole."

  Alex woke me a few hours later. It was dark and the faint sound of crickets and the occasional whoosh of traffic from the highway were muffled by the nonsense Alex was babbling. Apparently, vampires can have nightmares. I couldn't understand a thing he was saying. He was speaking the secret language of dreams. Mumble, mumble shower shoes.

  Dust from the demolished seat cover caught the thin light that crept in through the poorly sealed door jamb. It had the reddish quality of sunset, so I knew we hadn't slept through the night. Although if Alex felt anything like I felt, doing that would probably be a good thing.

  More mumbles and complaint sounds from the vampire. I thought about waking him, but I was suddenly angry. It was his fault we were in this mess. It was his fault we spent almost two hundred dollars on this room. It might actually have been his fault that Albert and Linda were dead. How did I know I hadn't been tricked into this mess? I put on my shoes and went out into the parking lot.

  The lot was empty aside from an ancient Ford that probably belonged to the manager. It looked like it hadn't been driven in years and might have been rusted to the spot. A blinking red light told me that there was a security system installed and I laughed out loud. Who'd even consider breaking into that pile of junk?

  The only other sign of life was a plastic bag that skittered past, occasionally stopping its forward motion to swirl or leap into the air. I could still hear the sounds from the highway and the wind in the trees. Every little breeze seems to whisper Louise, I thought. At least I thought I thought. Turns out I'd actually sung it out loud because Alex sat down next to me and asked who Louise was.

  He hunched forward and wrapped his arms across his chest, hugging himself despite the fact that it wasn't that cold. A side effect of nightmares, I guess. I don't have nightmares. I don't dream. Or if I do, I don't remember them. Alex rocked back and forth and exhaled loudly.

  "I'd kill for a smoke," he said.

  "I haven't got any on me, though there might still be a pack in my bag."

  "Do you mind if I look? I mean, I don't want to go digging through your personal things--"

  "What personal things? It's clothes. Shirts and socks. A bunch of fucking demons in fucking iron balls. Everything that was personal got left behind." Bitter? Me? I stared at my feet and in my peripheral vision I saw him stand and turn. I heard the click of the motel room door. I hunched forward and rested my chin on my knees. What a huge fucking mess.

  I saw the toes of his sneakers appear at the edge of the curb, then his feet stepped down and he sat next to me, his shoulder touching mine. I didn't look up until he nudged my shoulder and handed me the lit cigarette.

  "There's about half a pack left. Figure if we share them we can make them last longer. Get another pack on our next stop."

  I took it from his fingers, had a long drag, and handed it back.

  "Well, they would last longer if you didn't burn half of it down at once."

  "I took my half up front. The rest is yours."

  The sun got lower and the breeze got stronger. The first hint of autumn was in the air and it made me shiver. I've always preferred autumn to all other times of the year but I had a bad feeling about this one.

  We sat there while Alex smoked the last of the cigarette, tucked it under the toe of his shoe, and ground it out. "We should get going." I said, but made no move to stand up.

  "Look, Nick, I was thinking. Now might be a good time to go our separate ways. I've gotten you into enough trouble and if I take off on my own, maybe they won't kill you. Maybe they'll get wrapped up in hunting me down that they'll forget about you, or decide they don't care anymore." He stood up and stretched, then offered me his hand. I couldn't tell if he was offering me a hand up or wanted to shake my hand goodbye.

  I stood up and faced him, shoving my hands in my pockets. "It doesn't work like that. They'll keep coming after me just for helping you. Just for working for Albert. Just in case you gave the key to me. You didn't give the key to me, did you?"

  "No. It's right here." He pulled out his key ring and held it up by the wooden skeleton key that I'd assumed was just a fob.

  We walked back into the room and gathered up our things. Alex settled the strap of his bag across his chest and checked his pockets. "We should keep the room key just to piss that guy off."

  "What's this thing you have with keeping keys? I don't think so." I held out my hand for the motel room key and Alex dropped it in my upturned palm. We i
gnored the stares from the clerk when we returned it. Let people think what they want. That's my general rule. Nothing they could make up could be anywhere near the truth.

  "Hey," started Alex as we pulled out of the motel parking lot, "do you think if we gave Xyj'Ru the key back he'd let us go?"

  I counted seventeen seconds before he spoke again. "No, huh. I didn't think so."

  The truck stop restaurant was packed with drivers getting ready to start their day. They put away eggs and pancakes and steak and ham. The whole place smelled of bacon, coffee, and maple syrup. Hunger battled with exhaustion. I hadn't realized just how hungry I was until we were actually faced with food. I touched the wallet in my front pocket and wondered how much longer the money would hold out.

  We were seated in a booth tucked in a corner near the kitchen. Our waitress was a girl whose tag read Anna. The sea foam-green waitress uniform looked good against her olive-toned skin and drew attention to the fact that her eyes were a pale blue (on the other waitressómiddle-aged, fleshy, and paleóit only made her look ill). Alex and I exchanged a glance when we noticed the silver crucifix that hung from a thin chain around her throat. Alex smirked slightly and rolled his eyes.

  "Good morning, gentlemen, and what can I get you for breakfast?" Her voice was warm and friendly, the complete opposite of the other waitress' phlegmy, raspy voice.

  "I'll have the lumberjack platter and coffee. And your phone number." Alex gave her a smooth wink. She rolled her eyes, but laughed.

  "How do you want your eggs, sir?" She was good. A complete professional.

  "Scrambled. No, wait. Over light. But make the bacon extra-crispy." He looked at me and said "There's less grease that way. It burns off." He patted his stomach. "Can't afford any extra fat, you know."

  It was my turn to roll my eyes. Alex, despite a healthy appetite, was thin. He had almost no body fat and had definite muscle tone despite the fact that I never saw him working out. I don't have that sort of luck. I ordered a steak (rare) and an egg-white omelet. Alex made a little gagging noise. The idea of not having yolks repulsed him. The onions and green peppers I asked to be included made him cringe.

  "Onions and green peppers?" He hissed at me once Anna the waitress had gone to put our order in.

  "I like onions and green peppers!"

  "You don't have to deal with onion breath in your face afterwards."

  "I won't breathe on you."

  "I wish I could believe you."

  "Oh come on. My onion breath can't be as bad as your Kung Pao Incident."

  "My Kung Pao incident? That's great, coming from you, mister Burrito Night."

  "I told you not to put so many beans in th--" Our argument was cut short when Anna returned with two mugs of coffee and a little dish of creamer tubs. She had an odd sort of smile on her face as she put the things down.

  "Gentlemen, your breakfasts will be out in a few minutes. Just give me a call if you need more coffee or if I can get anything else for you."

  "I'd still like your phone number?" Alex asked.

  "Oh, you!" She laughed lightly and touched Alex's shoulder before she walked away.

  "I think she likes me."

  I leaned across the table and whispered to him. "I think she thinks we're gay."

  "I call bullshit."

  "No bullshit. I think she thinks we're gay! I'm telling you. Watch. Listen!"

  Anna was talking to the man at the cash register. Her posture had shifted slightly and she looked a little less perky. A line creased Alex's forehead as he listened to their conversation, inaudible to anyone else because of the din around us. "--seems really nice and he's kind of cute, but I think they're-- you know. A couple." She gestured quotes when she spoke the words "a couple."

  Alex slumped back in his seat and tapped his spoon against the table. "Well, fuck me."

  "That'd really confirm her suspicions." I hid my smirk behind my coffee and ducked the spoon that came flying at my head.

  After breakfast, we had time to kill. Baltimore was only a few hours away at this point, but we were both tired. Rather than waste more cash at another motel, we opted to slum it for one night. Alex marveled at the fact that I don't carry credit cards. I pointed out that he didn't even have a bank account.

  Vampire, two. Werewolf, one.

  I took my computer and used the truck stop's wireless connection to send money from my bank account to a Western Union pickup in Baltimore. Our half-baked plan was to take the key and see if I could figure out what was so important about it. Remember I said that Xyj'Ru wasn't bound by iron? Maybe the key unlocked the one thing that could contain him. One thing I was certain of; it wasn't sentimental value that drove him to find the key. Demons don't do sentimental. Except around the holidays, when sentiment can make people angry.

  So we slummed it in the trailer section of an eighteen-wheeler parked in the truck stop lot. Aside from a few cardboard boxes that had been flattened (possibly by previous "tenants" of these four-star, luxury accommodations) it was empty. The cab wasn't connected and judging by the amount of trash that had built up around the tires of the trailer, it hadn't been moved in a while.

  "It's not exactly a room at the Ritz," Alex said as he stood in what was roughly the center and turned in a small circle to take in his surroundings.

  "We're not exactly dressed for the Ritz." I put our bags down in a corner and stretched. "It's shelter. And it's only temporary. Just for one night. It's also better than trying to sleep in the car."

  "Your fault for buying a Jetta. Next time get something like a Buick. Much roomier for living in." Alex tied a sock to the handle on one door and pulled them both shut, wedging the sock between them so they didn't meet flush. He tested to ensure that they could be opened again.

  "You might have waited until I'd gone outside," I said. Our voices were hollow and echoed in the large, empty, metal box. "What if that hadn't worked and we were shut in here?"

  A shaft of sunlight squeaked between the two doors and cut a sharp diagonal across his face. He flashed a grin and slammed the doors closed completely.

  "Are you out of your fucking mind?" Something like terror rose in my throat. I suddenly regretted the onions and green peppers. I was alone with a vampire who was a hunted man. What if he'd decided that we really should go separate ways and killing me seemed like the way to a safer escape. "A-alex?"

  Alex crossed to the far end of the trailer and made a run for the door, slamming into it with his shoulder. The doors popped open and he grabbed wildly, catching the edge of one of them and laughing gleefully as he swung back and forth before the door finally came to rest against the back of the trailer. He stepped back inside, panting and red-faced. "How about that!" He was giddy.

  "Well, that was certainly noisy." I stared at him, nonplussed. "Did that demonstration have a point?"

  "No. Well, it was fun. But I was just testing."

  "Testing to see what it would take for me to actually want to kill you?"

  Alex went to the front of the trailer again and sat down on one of the squashed boxes. He leaned against the wall and took his shoes off, putting them next to his bag. He was sulking.

  I sat down on the edge of the trailer, letting my legs dangle over the edge. "Nothing like watching the morning sun cast its cheery glow over the Dumpster."

  "That's like fucking poetry," Alex said, his words bouncing around the container before reaching me. He might have been speaking from miles away. I heard the nearly-silent whisper of his bare feet padding across the floor. He sat down beside me and lit a cigarette. "And look! There's rats." He handed the cigarette to me.

  "You know what bothers me?" Alex said. "The word ëimmortal.' I'm not immortal. It seems like the word has started to mean ëreally hard to kill.' I mean, if I were immortal we wouldn't be doing this, right? I'd just stand up and say, ëBitch, I'm immortal! I can't die!' and have Xyj'Ru for lunch. But I can't do that. I'm not immortal. I'm not even really hard to kill. I'm probably incredibly easy to kill." He s
ighed, his shoulders drooping.

  We continued to pass the cigarette back and forth. "How come you haven't ever killed me? I mean, I'm completely responsible for this."

  "You make a good point. Do you want to die now, or tomorrow morning?"

  "No, seriously, Nick. Why haven't you killed me?"

  "Wolves are pack animals. They need the company of others. It's one of the reasons why dogs were so easy to domesticate. Shifters are no different; at least not the wolf shifters. The people who shift to solitary animals are usually fine on their own."

  "So why not just find a whole flock of other wolf shifters and live communally ever after?"

  "Pack."

  "Whatever. You're avoiding the question again."

 

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