by M. Lorrox
Rod, the bellman, returns her smile and opens the door. “Good day, ma’am.”
“So far, so good.”
In a flash of heat and pain, June opens her eyes.
She’s confused, and for a moment, she doesn’t move. I’m in the truck. Dad’s here. Where are we? She sits up and immediately regrets it. A deep, dull ache interspliced with static-shocks of pain saturate her brain. The pressure and discomfort is dizzying. She breathes and turns to her dad.
He’s asleep. His arm dropped from her when she sat up, but it didn’t rouse him. June looks out the windows and sees the rest stop, then she sees Sadie’s empty Jeep parked next to them. Where is everybody? She turns back toward her dad. Maybe I should let him rest. Suddenly her insides feel like two spikes were driven through her guts and are being wrenched and twisted apart. She winces and folds forward, closes her eyes, and tries to breathe.
The pain fades away for only a moment, and then it returns. She opens the pickup’s passenger door and steps outside. She closes it as quietly as she can, then doubles over with her hands on her knees. Damn this hurts…
June takes a few more breaths and steadies herself. She walks into the shade in front of the trucks, and as another pang tears through her, she reaches out and leans on the tree’s thick trunk. Whoa, I gotta lay down. There’s a welcoming flat and grassy area nearby. She walks over to it and lays down on the soft grass under the midday sun. The pleasant warmth from the light on her face and arms soothes her, and she stares off into the blue sky.
The Costanzas sit in the tree line’s shade at the edge of the rest stop’s wide lawn. It’s far enough from the noisy people and smelly cars that they can relax and enjoy their meal. Eddy eats a slice of pizza while he leans his back against a tree. As he takes another bite, he hears something above him, and he snaps his head upward—a string of cheese drapes across his chin. A squirrel on a branch fifteen feet above stares down at him.
The rest of the family sits and eats at a picnic table.
Eddy takes another bite, then sets his to-go pizza container on the ground. Earlier, he placed his bottle inside Sophia’s leather bag, and as he reaches for his drink, he pauses. I guess this bag is mine now. She would have wanted me to have it—to save it and use it. I can’t believe she’s gone...
He remembers the way she pleaded for him to join the hunt, the way her hand felt on his when she gave him the blood-bead bracelet, the way her head bounced after the shotgun blast ripped her skull apart.
He closes his eyes while he takes a calming breath. He lifts the bag and inspects it again. The leather is thick and well broken in, and lashed to the side is the bowie knife’s sheath. He opens the bag and pulls out the bottle, and something slides out with it.
The velvet pouch.
He takes a sip then picks up the pouch. The velvet is thick and soft in his fingers. Inside is something hard and odd shaped. He opens and upends the pouch, and an old ring falls into his other hand.
When he turns it over to see the top, he gasps. The symbol!
Instead of a stone on the heavy, warm and worn ring, carved onto its face is the Infinite Vampire symbol. The iconic ouroboros snake, wrapped around a V in the shape of the infinity symbol. Eddy holds the ring up to examine it.
The signet area with the carving is about the size of a dime, and it has a twisted rope pattern along its rimmed edge. The entire ring—symbol, ropes, and band—appears to be hand carved from reddish gold. Eddy flips the ring over to study the inside of the band. Something is written there in an ancient script.
Eddy can’t read the language its written in, but he’s seen those symbols before, and he knows what they translate to. WHAT?
Along the inside of the band, carved in Sumerian symbols from one side of the signet to the other, is the customary greeting, response, message, and motto of all vampires: “Life in the blood—death in the blood.”
Eddy tries to put the ring on. It fits the middle finger of his left hand snugly. He holds his hand up, rotates it, makes a fist, and checks out how it looks on him. This is so cool.
Out of the corner of his eye, he sees something gray nearby. “Hey! Get out of here!” Eddy swipes above the squirrel’s head, hoping to scare it away from his food.
The squirrel is a rest stop food-snatching pro, and it isn’t fazed by the near miss. It does scurry away, but it takes the half-eaten pizza slice with it, dragging the prize with its mouth.
“No!”
Charlie turns to him. “What is it?”
Eddy points to the squirrel. “This stupid rat stole my pizza!”
Minnie squeals with joy, and Sadie laughs. “Well, Eddy, you better go get it!”
Eddy watches the squirrel drag the pizza along the dirt and up a nearby tree, backward. Eddy sighs and smiles. “Actually, I’m not even mad; I’m kinda impressed.”
Charlie laughs.
Eddy slings the leather bag across his shoulder and stands. “I’m going to get another slice.”
Sadie frowns. “Make it quick. We have to get back on the road soon.”
Eddy nods as he walks away. After a moment, he feels the heavy ring on his hand. He takes it off and replaces it into the pouch. I wonder why she had this with her.
Back at the picnic table, Minnie’s eyes flash wide. “Mommy?”
“Yes dear?”
“Can I give the rest of my sandwich to the squirrel?”
She laughs. “No dear, it’s your sandwich. Eat it.”
“But he’s hungry.”
“The squirrels have plenty to eat, and besides, you’ll be hungry if you don’t finish it.”
“Okay, fine.” Maybe if I don’t finish in time, then I can give him the rest!
Minnie takes the tiniest bite from the sandwich.
A car with a loud muffler drives by and rouses Skip from his nap. He doesn’t open his eyes; he only shifts his body. He’s cramped, and his legs are stiff. He moves his arm and doesn’t feel June beside him. His eyes shoot open, and he learns he’s alone in the truck. He glances at Sadie’s Jeep. Empty.
He sits up and looks out his windshield, first toward the shade under the tree, and then he sees his daughter laying out beyond it in the sun.
“June!” He rushes out of the truck and sprints over to her.
She hears the pickup’s door shutting and opens her eyes, squinting into the light. “I’m over here.”
Skip leaps and slides on his knees to her side, shading her with his body. “You have to get out of the sun!” He rips off the t-shirt that he put on hundreds of miles and a half dozen hours ago and spreads it over her face.
June flails her arms up. “Dad, stop it!”
“You burn extra fast now, June, you can’t go into the sun without protection, not even for a second.”
Oh. She sits up in a flash and almost knocks Skip over.
His eyes are wide, and the tiniest little droplets of sweat are forming on his temples. He rushes to spread the shirt out in the air above her. He stares into her eyes. They’re mostly bright green, but they have streams of silver that collect together like tributaries and flow into a ring outside the pupil. They used to be brown, like Monica’s. Now they’re...vampire eyes?
June breathes slowly. “Dad, I feel really awful.”
“Let’s get into the shade.” He drops the shirt onto her and brings her arms up to his chest. “Stand up, sweetheart.”
As she stands, he presses her arms against his chest, blocking the light from her. He holds her close as he walks her into the shade. He sets her beside the tree, leaning her back against the trunk.
She pulls her knees to her chest and pulls Skip’s shirt off her head. She winces. “Dad, there’s something wrong, everything hurts: my head, my stomach, ugh...” She leans forward and catches her head with her hands.
Skip crouches next to her. No, no, no! I
’m not losing you! “June, listen to me, okay? You need to drink some blood.”
She musters the strength to look at him and shake her head.
“You have to, June!”
She squints and blinks and shakes her head again. “My eyes are being weird.” Another shockwave of pain rockets through her. “Ah! My god, what’s happening to me?”
Skip runs to the truck, yelling behind him, “June, you might be dying; you need to drink it!” He opens the passenger door, rips the cooler out, then runs back to his daughter. “It’s the only way!”
She watches him run toward her in a haze and blur. “I think I’m going to pass out.”
“No you’re not! Stay with me!” He grabs a pint of dog blood and lets the cooler drop to the ground. He drops to his knees, pokes a hole in the bag with his keys, and spills some blood onto his pants. “June, open your mouth; you’re going to drink this.” He holds the bag near her face.
She watches the bag drip thick blood down the side of his hand. That’s so gross. She brings her eyes up to her dad’s. “I can’t. I—”
Her eyelids droop, and her head starts to fall.
Skip catches her head by the hair and pulls it back. Her bottom lip hangs open a mere fraction of an inch, and Skip points the hole in the bag toward her mouth and squeezes hard. The blood spurts out at an angle, sending one stream out and onto his chest, and another stream to the side and into her hair.
He repositions the bag and squeezes again. This time the blood hits its mark and trickles into her mouth. Some blood went down the wrong pipe, and she autonomously coughs and spasms her head, then she swallows some of the blood.
Skip adjusts her head as he opens her mouth with the bag, sticking the edge of it between her teeth. He squeezes it, the blood flows in, and she swallows.
After a few sips, she opens her eyes and blinks a few times. She grabs the bag with her hands and bites into it, tearing it open. She pours the blood into her mouth and gulps it down.
Skip collapses beside her. He drops his arms and his eyes to the ground. He sees his blood-covered hands resting on his thighs. His chest has a streak of blood sprayed across it, and his pants have collected rogue drips and spills. He slowly lifts his head to see June.
Blood runs down the side of her mouth and down her chin. Her hair is matted from where he grabbed it and from where the blood hit it, and she clutches the bag up to her mouth like it was caught prey—preventing any escape.
When she sucks all the blood out and flattens the bag, she tosses it to the ground by her side. Without looking up, she holds her hand out toward her dad. “More please.”
Skip grabs another pint from the little cooler. He pauses while he hunts for his keys to poke a hole in the bag; he dropped them on the ground after he poked the other hole.
June snatches the bag from his hand and bites into it with her canine teeth. It spurts blood out the side of her mouth until she squeezes her lips onto it. A spoonful of blood escapes, and it plops onto her jeans.
Skip finds his keys and leans against the tree next to June. He pulls his knees up to his chest, like her, and drops his head between them. “I’m glad you’re alright June. I love you so much.”
June tosses the second bag onto the other empty one, then starts sobbing.
Skip bounces and twists onto a knee, facing June. “What’s wrong?”
Her tears rewet the blood on her face. “I’m not me anymore. I’m drinking blood! What kind of monster am I?”
Skip pets her head and smooths the mashed hair. “You’re not a monster. You’re my daughter, and you’re alive, you just—” don’t say gross, “—you just have a different sort of appetite now, I guess.” He scoots away from the tree and sits facing her. “I’ve been thinking about it; tons of cultures drink cow or other animal blood as a custom. Maybe it’s just scary because it’s new to you.”
June calms and finds her dad’s eyes. “People really drink blood?”
Skip nods. “Yes, and they have for thousands of years.”
June imagines hairy cavemen and women in a dark and dank cave, drinking blood out of bowls made from skulls by a pitiful campfire.
Somehow it doesn’t reassure her, and she starts crying again.
Skip can’t help but cry with her. He wipes his eyes and sees the empty bags of blood. He picks one up. There’s a few drops stuck in one corner. Through the bag, he works them into a miniscule pool with his fingers. “June, I’ll drink some too. It’s perfectly acceptable for people to do it; it’s just uncommon.”
She shakes her head. “Dad, you don’t have to do that.”
“Shush.” Dirt sticks to the opening June drank from, so instead of using that opening, he decides to just bite a new hole on the other end, where the blood is. He forces a smile as holds the bag up in the air like a bottle of beer. “Cheers.” He bites and yanks at the bag, and sucks in the blood. He swallows it. Oh. That wasn’t so bad. He smiles. “See, just like if you cut your lip. Same thing.”
June buries her head. “Except it’s not your own blood; it’s blood from someone else.”
Skip tilts his head and frowns, then he inspects the bag. It’s labeled with a code and an icon of a dog, but there aren’t any words. He puts his hand on her knee. “June, this isn’t human blood; it’s from the vets. This is donated canine blood.”
She sniffs. “It’s not from people?”
“I swear, it’s from a dog.”
She takes a deep breath. “Somehow that seems better.”
Skip nods. “How are you feeling?”
“Better, but…do you have any more?”
As the Costanzas return to the vehicles, they can hear Skip and June talking.
Eddy’s pace quickens. “June’s up.”
Charlie puts his free hand on Eddy’s shoulder, slowing him back down. “You might want to ride with us for a while. Let those two talk.”
Eddy purses his lips, then nods. “That’s probably a good idea.”
Charlie winks at him.
They come around and see the pickup’s passenger door open, the cooler on the ground, and the two sitting in the shade. Sadie shoots Charlie a concerned glance. “I’ll help Minnie into the Jeep.” She grabs the umbrella as Charlie transfers Minnie into her arms.
Eddy notices that Skip took his shirt off. That’s...odd.
Charlie notices too, and he starts to jog the rest of the way. When he reaches the oak tree’s shade, he can’t help but slow and laugh. “You have got to be kidding me.”
Skip twists to face him. “What?”
“What do you mean ‘what?’ You two are a mess! You’ve got blood, literally everywhere!”
June raises a bloody hand to wave. “Hi guys.”
Skip stands.
Eddy laughs too. “Yeah, you just have to drink it, not bathe in it.”
Skip takes a step toward them. He looks furious. “She got out of the truck when I was asleep and went in the sun.”
Charlie’s smile crumbles. “WHAT? For how long? June, do you feel burnt?” Her skin doesn’t look red, but maybe it doesn’t show because she’s Aniyunwiya?
June plants her hand down on the ground and stands up. “It couldn’t have been more than ten or fifteen minutes.”
Eddy steps toward her. “But you drank some blood from the cooler first, right?”
June shakes her head. “No, my stomach and head were killing me, so I got out and laid down.”
Skip picks up his shirt from the ground. “In the sun.”
Eddy turns and runs to the Jeep. “Mom!”
Charlie takes a step toward June. “You should lie down. You’re probably going to have to take a blood bath to heal your skin. Hopefully you didn’t get too badly burnt. I think this is going to be alright.” He turns to Skip. “I’m sorry bud. We should have stayed.” Skip drops his eyes to the gr
ound.
June brings one hand to her hip and motions with the other. “Guys, I’m not burnt.”
Sadie comes rushing over and places her hands on June’s shoulders. “Oh, my dear, it’ll be alright, we have to get you undressed, boys, disappear. Skip, get the rest of the blood from the back of the Jeep.”
June pulls herself from Sadie’s grasp. “I’m fine, I’m not burnt, what’s the big deal?”
Sadie turns to Charlie. “I’m confused. Eddy said she was in the sun for ten or fifteen minutes without drinking any blood.”
“I was.”
They all turn to her.
Charlie walks over to her and holds her at the shoulders. “You were laying in the sun, for that long, just now?”
June throws her hands up. “Yes. That’s what I said.”
Charlie lets her go. “Will you lift up your sleeve?”
She pulls one of her very short sleeves up and over her shoulder.
Charlie turns to Sadie. “She’s not even more tanned, or...anything.”
Sadie shakes her head. “That’s... Charlie, that’s impossible.”
“I know.”
Skip clears his throat. “Please someone tell me what’s going on, she was sick and almost passed out, so I rushed and got some blood for her.”
Eddy speaks up first. “That’s from the turn; she was weak and needed blood.”
Charlie breaks eye contact with Sadie and locks them onto Skip. “You did good buddy, you did. I’m sorry I laughed, really. But the thing is Skip, June should be seriously sunburned right now—I mean, second degree burns—but she’s not.”
Skip puts his shirt on. It sticks to the blood on his chest and smears it. “Sooo that’s a good thing, then, right?”
Sadie walks over to June and runs a hand through her blood matted hair. “It’s a miracle.” She smiles at her.
June glances around at everyone staring at her, then she looks at Sadie. “What does it mean?”
“I don’t know dear. I really don’t know.” Sadie steps to June’s side and puts her hand on her shoulder. “But I don’t think you should worry about it at all; it’s a good thing. Let’s clean you up.” Sadie hugs her closely and stage whispers to her, “You look like hell.”
