Colt Harper: Esteemed Vampire Cat

by Tyrolin Puxty

  “The council’s bats.”

  “Oh crap.” Only the perpetrator can hear the council’s wrinkled bats. It’s like a warning siren.

  “Three… two,” Lexi counts down, “one.”

  It happens quickly. The bats swoop through the trees and surround Lexi until we can no longer see her. Her screeches are frantic over the bat squawks.

  The wrinkled bats look like something out of hell. I Googled them one night when I first heard about them and was traumatized. But to actually see them in the flesh, especially when they’re about six times bigger than the ones I read about online? Vomit material. I can practically taste the bile in my nostrils.

  Jax leans against a tree to keep out of the bats’ way, sympathetic tears rolling down his cheeks. I pull Saffy in close to reassure her. She must feel like she’s gone down the rabbit hole.

  The bats disperse, taking Lexi and the bodies with them.

  “She’s gone.” Jax whispers. “Running for eternity in the valley. She hates running…”

  It’s like a black hole in our little group. I don’t care for much, but it doesn’t seem natural for Lexi to be gone. It’s like a piece of us is missing, our sweet dynamic, our comedic relief. Plus, Lexi made us look good. I mean, she wasn’t physically attractive, so we all looked fantastic next to her. I’ll miss that.

  “We need to get that boat,” Saffy says softly. “Brynn will find a way to get there before us.”

  Jax is in a state of shock. He stares vacantly at Lexi’s clearing. I walk over and pull him up, slapping him on the back. “Wake up, buddy. We need to get out of here.”

  “Why didn’t the bats come for you?”

  “Because I made the cats finish off my work. It’s a loophole I use often.” I turn to Saffy. “Why do we need a boat?”

  “Because the bunker is on an island. We can get a boat from the dock and be there by tomorrow night.”

  “Tomorrow night?” Jax lifts his chin. “It’ll be a full moon then. You’ll have to restrain me.”

  “Whatever,” Saffy says. For a moment, I see Brynn in her. That turned up nose and the self-indulged tone.

  Those genetics are stronger than I thought.

  “What’s a Tyrolin Puxty?”

  – Colt Harper: Esteemed Vampire Cat.

  hat one.” Saffy points to a boat. “Commandeer that one.”

  “I’m a vampire cat, not a pirate,” I say. “This is a houseboat.”

  “Exactly. This way we can relax while the other person, like, drives it.”

  “Drives the boat?” I repeat. “Righto, and can anybody here actually ‘drive’ a boat?”

  Saffy and Jax look down at their feet. I glance into the water and scrunch up my nose at Sean who is smiling smugly.

  “My grandfather was in the navy.”

  “Where you can sail the seven seas and put your mind at ease?” I laugh, but Saffy and Jax widen their eyes. I forget they can’t hear Sean.

  I turn my back on Sean and focus on the boat. If Sean actually knew how to operate this damn thing, I’d be able to access his memories and do it myself. Unless of course, he’s found a way to block them from me, but I can’t see how he could. I’m too esteemed to allow anything like that to happen.

  “I really don’t feel comfortable going on a boat that nobody can ‘drive’ over a volume of water this vast when I can’t swim well,” I say. “Is there another way?”

  Saffy glares at me as if I threw up in her lap. What’s her problem today?

  “You’re Colt Harper, Esteemed Vampire Cat,” she says, almost sarcastically. “Get the boat working.”

  If Saffy weren’t half-vampire cat and half-adorable, I would’ve told her to shove it. Instead, here I am, sneaking into a houseboat.

  I jump inside, unaccustomed to the slight sway. I already hate this. There’s water on the deck, and I slip like a baby giraffe learning to walk.

  “Be kind,” Sean’s reflection says in the window. “Be kind when you see them.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” I knock on the front door. When there’s no reply, I kick it open.

  Inside is an old couple, glasses on their nose, engrossed in a book. A shiver runs down my spine when a memory flashes before me. I’m in a car, viewing the street through their eyes. A white cat runs onto the road and they swerve, but it’s too late. They hit it. The vision brings tears to my eyes. It always does when I’m around a cat-killer. I want to avenge little Snowy. I bite my tongue and clench my fists, trying desperately to refrain from plunging my talons into their abdomens. It was just an accident… accidents happen… I can’t hurt the disgusting humans. I could call the cats, but I don’t generally like them doing my dirty work, unless it’s an emergency. Besides, they would resent coming anywhere near the water. They’d do it, but I’d have to deal with their unimpressed and intimidating glower.

  The old couple’s expressions remain blank when they look at me, as if waiting for me to introduce myself.

  “Hello,” I say. “I’m Colt. So ah, what are you reading?”

  The man calmly checks the front cover. “A Tyrolin Puxty trilogy.”

  “A who?”

  “That’s the author. Tyrolin Puxty.”

  The woman leans over. “Dear, it’s pronounced Tier-roe-lynn.”

  “Tomate-o, tomato.” The man rests the book on his lap. “What can we do for you, Colt?”

  “Um.…” I click my fingers. I’d love to drink their blood, but that’s counterproductive. “I’m here to steal your boat.”

  The man takes his glasses off and leans forward. “Are you a pirate?”

  I dart my eyes. “Would it make any difference if I was?”

  “No, I’m just curious.”

  “Well then, sure. I’m a pirate. Yarrr… and stuff.”

  “Where’s your eyepatch?”

  “I don’t fit most stereotypes.”

  “Stereotypes are there for a reason, are they not?”

  I blink. This is the strangest robbery I’ve ever been part of. “Buddy, I have a deadline. A pirate kind of deadline, so if you could hand over your boat, that’d be swell.”

  “Dear,” the woman says to her husband, “I’m awfully fond of our home. I have no intention of leaving.”

  “Well, he seems pretty adamant. We shouldn’t upset a pirate.”

  “Mr. Pirate,” the woman addresses me. “Would you be willing to take us with you? We’re retired so wouldn’t mind sailing with you.”

  I hate the word flabbergasted… but it’s probably the best word to describe my current state. “Can… can either of you sail this boat?”

  “Of course,” the man says.

  “Good, then. Onward, Captain.” I awkwardly salute the man who shakily stands. Slightly stooped over, he walks to the… I guess it’s called a steering wheel. The woman shakes her head and continues reading, completely unfazed by the whole experience.

  I’m losing my touch.

  I poke my head through the door. “Hurry up, Jax, Saffy. I got us a crew.”

  They jump onto the boat, visibly perplexed when they enter. It’s only now I notice how terrible the decor is. Floral furniture, pale blue walls, scruffy carpet.

  “No blood?” Saffy asks. “I thought you were going to kill them. Not that I condone killing; I just assumed you’d get our cats on it…” She sniffs and her eyes widen. “They killed a cat.”

  “Yeah, I know. I’m doing all I can not to rip their hearts out.”

  “They killed a cat,” she repeats robotically. “I… they…”

  “You’re probably feeling the need to avenge Snowy, but it’s not worth it. Breathe through it, Saffy. Listen, the old guy has set up at the… the steering wheel thing.” I turn to the old woman. “These are my fellow pirates, Saffy and Jax. I didn’t catch your names.”

  She doesn’t glance up from her book. “He’s Terry, I’m Robyn. Now would you mind keeping your voices down, please dear? I’m just about to find out why the professor turned Ella into a doll.”

&
nbsp; “Terry and Robyn,” I repeat. “There you go. Our enthusiastic, completely lax crew who aren’t the slightest bit alarmed that we barged into their home. Just a normal day, right?”

  “Oof!” Jax trips face first into the sofa as the boat lunges forward. “More normal than ours so far.”

  I grab onto Saffy for support, but our balance is naturally better than Jax’s. I mean, come on. Put a dog on a wire and a cat on a wire. Who do you think will fall first?

  “Terry doesn’t know where to take us.” Saffy digs her nails into my shoulder.

  “Then we’ll tell him,” I say.

  “We shouldn’t be using people like this. They’re innocent.”

  “We’re not hurting them. They wanted to go sailing. They’re clearly bored and delirious, all right? They’ll drop us off at your treasure, then sail back here. No harm, right?”

  Saffy folds her arms, darting her eyes around the room. “I suppose so.”

  “Go chat up Terry. He’s a good guy. You can show him where to go.”

  She nods unsurely, then joins Terry at the steering wheel thing. When she’s out of earshot, Jax widens his eyes.

  “Yikes.” He scratches behind his ear.

  “I know, right. Talk about on edge. That treasure must mean a lot to her. Man, I wonder how big it is. And whom did she rob to get it…” And how many fish pies it’ll buy me, but I don’t voice that. Sensitivity, right?

  “Not all treasure is silver and gold.” Jax sighs. “So, is there a way we can visit Lexi in the valley, do you think? She’s going to get so skinny…”

  I glance at Robyn who is nose deep in her book and lower my voice. “You really miss her?”

  “Like a sister. She stroked my abs and spooned me at night. It was awkward as hell, but she made me laugh, even when she didn’t mean to be funny. She’s no monster, Colt. She shouldn’t be in the valley.”

  “She killed dozens of people less than an hour ago.” Saffy slinks up behind us. “We’re all monsters. We all deserve to be in that stupid valley.”

  “Someone’s chipper.” I grin. “Terry on the right course?”

  “Yeah, he’s pretty excited.” She motions at Robyn. “You think we should be talking like this in front of her?”

  “Don’t worry. She’s reading Tyrolin Puxty.”

  “What’s a Tyrolin Puxty?”

  “Something strange, I’m sure.”

  “Hmm. Well, I’m going to sleep. I’m all sorts of exhausted.” She takes a seat next to Robyn and pulls her knees to her chest, her blinks heavy. “At this speed, we’ll arrive tomorrow.” She pauses. “I’m… I’m sorry for speaking so curtly. Just tired, you know?”

  “We get it,” Jax says. When the boat hits a small wave, he jumps in his seat, frantically clawing for support. “We’re sinking!”

  “We’re fine, buddy,” I say. “Hey Robyn, what do you do for entertainment on this thing?”

  She grumbles nonsensically, reaches over, and throws a book at my head. “Read.”

  Jax picks it up and flicks through. “Do you even like to read, Colt?”

  “Hate it,” I say unequivocally. “Sleep seems to be the most viable option. It’s either that or throwing up.” I clutch at my stomach. The sea definitely isn’t my friend.

  “I’m gonna go with the second option before I go with the first.” Jax jumps up and runs toward the deck, tossing his cookies over the side. He sounds possessed. His whole body convulses and disconcerting growls and heaves escape his throat.

  I calmly join Jax on the deck, lean over, and throw up.

  Quietly.

  Seamlessly.

  Because Esteemed Vampire Cats do everything with decorum.

  “Why must there always be a twist?”

  – Colt Harper: Esteemed Vampire Cat.

  dream a lot. Mostly of fish pies, wool, and decapitated heads. Everything’s underwater in my dream. Everything’s moving, rocking, swaying.

  Then I see something familiar, something pleasant. A stream of blood, cascading down the decapitated heads, into my pies, and settling in the wool. Red sure is a beautiful color.

  I dive into the lukewarm blood and float downstream, purring when it smears my arms.

  “You’re going to get us killed,” Sean’s voice echoes.

  I blink, and I’m in a cramped hall of mirrors. Sean is glaring at me through the reflection, his eyes dark and his head twisted.

  “You’ll kill us both,” he says again, his voice autotuned or something. “Get off the boat. Turn around.”

  I go to speak, but I can’t. I try to feel my throat to work out what’s happening, but I don’t have any hands. Or a throat. Or a body.

  I’m in my true form. Just mist, forever changing color, forever floating aimlessly through the universe. I need to get back into Sean before I die! I already feel weak and dazed.

  “Leave me,” Sean says, his voice distant. “Before you kill me…”

  His voice fades, the mirrors disappear, and before I know it, I’m nothing.

  The boat hits a wave and I jolt. I hate houseboats. If the water isn’t completely smooth, the tiniest bump can feel like an earthquake.

  It’s dark outside, and it’s hard to see beyond the deck. The wavelets hit against the boat, an ominous sound in the night.

  There’s music playing, an old song from the fifties I can vaguely recall. Nobody’s around. I wonder for a moment if I’m dreaming again, or if the Bakhtak is messing with me, but there’s no mistaking it. This is real life. Whatever “real” is.

  I stand, a little uneasy on my feet.

  “Jax? Saffy?” I call. “Robyn? Terry?”

  I go onto the deck and stop at a strange, dark puddle. I bend over, instantly recognizing that delicious metallic smell. It’s blood. I continue down the deck, raising an eyebrow at the lone arm gripped onto the railing. Looks like one hell of a shark jumped on board and went on a rampage.

  The arm is wrinkled, with long fingernails and an old-fashioned wedding ring. It’s Robyn’s. Talk about random. Someone chopped off this woman’s arm and didn’t take her ring? Idiots. I pocket the ring and flick the arm into the water.

  I turn the corner and open the lavatory door to find Jax crouching on the toilet, trembling and whining.

  “Jax?” I block my nose. “Ugh, get out of there. What the hell happened? I missed all the fun! Why didn’t you wake me up?”

  Jax shakily leans on me for support, his face pale and his teeth chattering. “It, it, it, oooooh, it was aw, aw, aw, awful Colt! Therapy. Therapist. Need. Need now.”

  “Buddy, I don’t like dealing with emotion. Spill!”

  He’s practically a blur when he shakes. He grips onto my wrists, digging his nails into my skin. “It’s Saffy! She, she, she just went ballistic! The talons came out, her eyes glowed, and she ravaged Robyn and Terry!”

  Aw. I’m really touched by that story. My beautiful little Saffy is finally coming to terms with her inner vampire cat. Maybe one day, when the council isn’t so targeted on us, we can hunt and kill together. It’d be super romantic.

  Wait. The council. I shake Jax. “The bats! Did the bats come for her?”

  “N-n-no. She’s sailing the boat.”

  “Why didn’t they take her?”

  “Maybe because she’s only half-monster? St. Damian said that the council are deciding what to do with her. Besides, it’s her first offense. She’d only get community service.”

  I push Jax away, laughing when he stumbles backward into the toilet. I storm through the boat and find Saffy sitting in Robyn’s chair. She wasn’t there before. I perch beside her, a little unsettled by her matted hair, bloodstained face, and peaceful smile.

  “Ah, who’s sailing the ship?”

  She points up ahead at a lifeless body, posed at the wheel. “Terry has it under control.”

  “That’s nice,” I say. Saffy sounds like one of those evil children in bad horror flicks. “So… what did I miss?”

  “I ate Robyn,” she says m
atter-of-factly. “Not the hands though. I don’t know where those have been. All I know is, they have blood on them from hitting Snowy.”

  “Understandable. And Terry?”

  “I was too full to eat him, so I set him up to sail while I took a break.”

  “Right…” Her eyes are vacant. “Not that I have any problem with killing humans, Saffy, but I gotta ask, what the hell happened?”

  “I was hungry.”

  “I get that, but there’s a fridge on board.”

  “I wanted blood.”

  “Fair enough. Cravings are cravings.” I fidget the way Jax does when he’s uneasy. “But why couldn’t you hold back? I know it’s our instinct to avenge cats, but you have to fight it! At least, until everything calms down.”

  She throws her hands in the air, emotion finally filtering into her voice. “I was pissed off, Colt! I don’t know what’s happening to me! Ever since I met you, this inner vampire cat has unleashed!”

  “It’s probably pheromones,” I say. “I’m the last vampire cat on earth. Nothing would’ve triggered you before. I never really knew my kind before chasers wiped them out, but I befriended this hippie cult who explained a lot to me. Vampire cats generally work well alone, but our pheromones basically screw us over. It can enhance a vampire cat’s abilities, or weaken them. Just luck of the draw. Being around you seems to have weakened me, which is so not cool. Anyway. I liked the little hippies. They made me laugh. They always wore black robes and painted angular rainbow patterns from their chin down to their chest to promote acceptance and light. I used to go on their retreats to the mountains. The 98-year-old always instigated somersaults down the mountain. We used to play games like describing your surname without saying it. Roy Wright had the easiest; ‘not wrong.’ Harper was a bit of a challenge.” I clear my throat when Saffy gives me a look of a hardcore Dance Mom whose kid came in second. “But that’s a story for another time. What were you saying?”

  She huffs. “The longer I’m with you, the more I want to kill and eat and climb. Can’t climb a stupid houseboat though, can I? They’re rocky and awful. I want a damn tree!”