The thickness of his atmosphere was so great that they had difficulty breathing.
“I would think it more logical to choose one for me and save the rest, but if you feel you should all stay,” said the vampire, and here his teeth seemed to point individually at each of them, “I am willing to work harder tonight. I am willing to work all night.”
The vampire laughed.
Jordan’s car steered into the driveway and stopped.
Jordan opened his door.
Ginny opened hers.
They got out.
The shadow in the sky drifted slowly down across the roofs, like a sleepwalker, and descended gently to the ground.
Yes, thought Ginny, not knowing what she was saying yes to, or why she felt that yes was the right syllable. Only knowing that something — some strange gravity — was pulling her toward that shadow. It was pulling Jordan, too, they were going in a pair.
Ginny wanted to call out, “Over here!” but she could not seem to move her lips.
She was not afraid, and yet she was terrorized. Her body was doing things without her, as if this had been rehearsed for all her life.
Jordan felt like paper. He was blank. Nothing was written on him. Nothing was on his last page and nothing would be on his next page.
He did not feel like a man or a boy or a human being.
He did not even feel.
He was hardly even there.
His feet continued to move, and yet he did not feel as if he were walking. He felt as if he had become sort of an amoeba with jellied expansions instead of legs. He was floating in a new kind of water.
Whatever the shadow was, whatever the shadow meant, Jordan would be absorbed into it.
Yes, thought Jordan.
Lacey could hardly absorb the vampire’s words, let alone the diluted oxygen left in the tower. That was my brother down there, thought Lacey. My brother, Kevin. What is he doing there? My brother, Kevin, who is going to be the other vampire’s victim!
Lacey and Kevin had led remarkably separate lives for a brother and sister whose bedroom doors were separated by only thirty-six inches. They shared no hobbies, they had no common friends, they participated in none of the same activities. Since Lacey had become a teenager they had hardly even had dinner together, because her schedule was not similar to her brother’s.
At family gatherings, like Thanksgiving, Lacey and Kevin sometimes discovered that they, too, were having a reunion. That they would actually have conversations in which Lacey would think — so this is the kind of guy that Kevin is! They would actually catch up with each other when the room was full of relatives, as if they, too, were distant cousins who saw each other only on holidays.
“Lace!” came her brother’s voice from outside, from the safety zone, from the ground beneath the tower. “I’m coming, Lace!”
He did not call her Lace instead of Lacey because he was fond of her and this was a favorite nickname. He called her Lace because he was cutting down on the time he spent thinking of her — one less syllable spent on a dumb old sister.
For the same reason, she usually called him Kev.
We will each die, she thought. Well, no, not die. The vampire explained that death is not part of this. But we will be finished as human beings.
Our poor parents. Tomorrow they will have half-children. Half-personalities. Half-energies.
We will live together in some sort of mental and physical fog, drained by the vampire, and we will not know. We will not remember.
Lacey stared at the vampire, imagining the “event.” The vampire stared back, also imagining it. Although with more enthusiasm.
It was evident that, this time, the vampire was not going to leave.
There would be no escape.
There would be no exit unless granted by the vampire.
And her brother was in the yard. Coming up into the house.
I must get my brother out of here, thought Lacey. And while I’m at it, I must save the rest.
Lacey examined the others. She was no longer in human time, but vampire time: time that continued for aeons in a single black night. She did not have to rush. The vampire that had slid from the shutters was not rushing toward her brother, but savoring the moment.
Lacey looked at Sherree. Selfish. Silly. But Lacey felt a strange deep love for her. The kind of love, perhaps, that parents have: an unconditional love, for whoever and whatever their child turns out to be. Lacey liked it that Sherree had come back, had danced a little jig of joy because she had been a good person after all. Lacey liked the strength with which Sherree had tried to escape, even though that had let the vampire out of the shutters.
What strange lives these vampires led: half frozen by their own hibernation, half frozen by the lack of available victims.
Perhaps all evil was like that.
Perhaps it lay in wait for you, lying behind the door, in back of the shutters, hidden by walls and strangers and habits…but it was there.
Perhaps you had only to say the words, and evil could begin growing, filling every room and mind with its sick odor and its disgusting cloak.
I know the truth, thought Lacey. I understand the world. And what difference does it make? I will never get out there to tell anybody.
Lacey studied Bobby, whose magnificent muscular body had engineered many an athletic victory. Had Bobby learned anything from the night? It was hard to tell. With a person like Bobby, you tended not to look past the physical person to locate the emotional person. Bobby would always be able to hide behind his body, so to speak. He could put his muscles and his masculine beauty out front and nobody would know who was in back.
Zach, to whom appearances meant so much: Zach, expending so much energy trying not to be embarrassed or nervous or uncool. In a way she loved Zach most, because he was the most desperate to pull it all off. She wanted him to pull it all off. She wanted Zach to have it all, and not know how frail he really was.
Roxanne, who was not frail, and who did have it all, and who knew it. Lacey decided that after all, she liked Roxanne best, because Roxanne was toughest. Strong enough to rip nails out of floors, strong enough to herd scared kids down dark stairs.
Lacey admired strength. I won’t have any ever again, thought Lacey. Once the vampire takes me, strength will be gone forever.
She studied Randy, although he was safe without her.
Randy, who was everything the vampire had accused him of: dumb as ever, a sixteen-year-old show-off who didn’t know when to stop. But Lacey loved him for wanting to be a hero. She loved him for being crushed when it turned out his bravery saved only himself. If all the world wanted to be a hero, perhaps evil would never come out from behind the shutters.
I just hope he doesn’t drive too fast when they speed away from the mansion, thought Lacey. I just hope they catch Kevin and take him with them. They have to do that. My parents have to have one whole child.
“Take me,” she said to the vampire.
In a businesslike way she said to the rest, “Hurry on. There’s no time to waste. My brother is down there. Take him home with you. Get going.”
Chapter 13
THIS TIME IT WAS for real. They would go. She would stay.
The others touched Lacey. Stared. Rested a hand briefly on her shoulder. But they did not hug or kiss. They were too stunned. Too fearful.
“But we won’t remember you!” cried Sherree. “I have to remember you! I want to be a better person. I want to have you to go by.”
Her gift to me, thought Lacey. I accept. If she were permitted to remember, she would remember me, and be a better person for it.
But they won’t remember. They will walk out that door and not remember. All their lives, as they go on in safety and joy, it will be because of me. And they won’t remember.
Lacey thought of herself as dead, lying in a cemetery, but with a blank stone because nobody remembered. She was just a granite slab to mow around.
She did not cry. She had made her dec
ision. It felt firm and right to her, though sad.
She thought of the days in which we honor the vanished: Martin Luther King Day, Memorial Day, Veterans Day, Presidents’ Day. I never honored anybody, thought Lacey. I just went to the sales at the department stores.
I forgot them. I live because they died. And I forgot them. As I will be forgotten. As I will forget myself.
Lacey felt that being forgotten was worse than anything.
To be good, and do right, and yet disappear with the rising sun.
Bobby cleared his throat. “Lacey?” he said.
She managed a smile.
“I wish we could go out. I always wanted to go out with you.”
Lacey was amused. Bobby actually believed that it would make her feel better to know that he, Bobby, had considered her as a date. Not asked, of course. Not actually phoned. But taken it into his mind.
“Thanks, Bobby,” she said, being just a fraction sarcastic.
Athletic swing intact, Bobby turned to leave.
Roxanne whispered, “Oh, Lacey! I guess I should have volunteered. It’s all on you. It’s so unfair.” She tried not to cry.
Lacey could have been mean. She could have said, Yes, you should have, you rotten person!
Lacey wanted to say it. But even though nobody would remember, and the words would be erased as if they had never been spoken, she did not say anything mean.
“It’s okay, Roxanne,” said Lacey kindly. “Just be sure you get Kevin.”
Roxanne had a task to do now, and it strengthened her; Roxanne was a girl who needed a purpose. She moved quickly toward the door.
Zach did not get close to Lacey. He gave her a sort of salute. She understood that he was eager to forget, that Zach, too, knew he should have volunteered, should have fought, should have remained steadfast against this vampire. Zach was practically leaning down the stairs, getting himself out the dining room window, so ready to forget that it might not work for him; he might be the only one to remember.
What will be worse? thought Lacey. It will be terrible to forget…but to remember: To remember all that you could have done and didn’t…perhaps that will be worst of all.
Randy gave her an awkward pat with his bunched fist, the way boys greet each other. It was hardly the motion for a date to give the girl he was leaving behind. He knew it after he’d done it, and was upset, and did not know what to do next.
He’ll never know what to do next, thought Lacey. He’ll be one of those people that’s always a social nuisance. But he tried. He’ll always try.
She hugged Randy, and only Randy.
Randy was deeply moved, even thrilled.
She was a human sacrifice who accepted him, Randy, for her last human touch in the world.
Zach was not leaning toward the door in order to forget. He was leaning in order to remember. Zach’s well-ordered family used many Post-it notes on refrigerator doors and medicine cabinet mirrors and car dashboards so that they would forget nothing in their busy lives. He had, of course, a thin pad of adhesive note squares in his pocket and a tiny pencil, so he could jot down important thoughts and destinations.
To be sure he did not abandon Lacey here, Zach had written instructions to himself.
Call Police.
Call Fire Department.
Call Mr. and Mrs. James.
Lacey is in the Mall House alone. Get her out.
Zach would have been crushed to find how low an opinion of him Lacey had formed.
Sherree liked simple solutions.
When Sherree was depressed, she made no attempt to solve her problems. She just went shopping.
When Sherree felt less successful and less interesting than other girls in her class, she made no attempt to study harder or develop hobbies. She just put on her favorite music and danced.
She was not in a position to go shopping tonight.
Nor did dancing seem like a solution to Lacey’s internment with the vampire.
There were only two other things on earth that interested Sherree: boys and cars.
The boys had been spectacularly unsuccessful at rescuing anybody.
So Sherree thought car.
She would drive the Land Rover right up the porch and into the house. A Land Rover was the kind of vehicle that could knock down walls, weak ones, at least, and this house was destined for that anyway. It would surely distract the vampire to have a car driving into his home. Sherree would lean on the horn and attract lots of attention and people would come and finish the rescue for her.
It would be very exciting.
Sherree had always wanted to drive in a demolition derby, and, of course, she belonged to a family where the slightest scratch on a car sent them into frenzied phone calls to the body shop, so this was a childhood dream come true.
Randy had a different view of the situation. He had brought a camcorder and, stupidly, left it in the Land Rover. But the point was, the camera was there and waiting for them. He was sure that vampires were afraid of having their pictures taken.
He would advance on them, holding his camcorder like a shield before him, and film them, and they would flee.
Lacey would be his forever.
Lacey.
How brave she was.
She could have been one of those pioneers who, deciding to cross the Rocky Mountains come hell or high water, had pushed the family’s belongings in a handcart, and carried the babies on her back, and brought with her the seeds to plant the first garden.
No wonder the vampire was pleased that Lacey had accepted the offer.
She was the only one in the room worth having, even by a vampire’s standards.
Randy thought about his and Lacey’s future together. He didn’t care what the vampire said; Randy would forget nothing. And Lacey would not forget, either; Randy would be her hero, and she would adore him.
Randy thought of the dates they would have, and the way she would look up to him.
Roxanne held the hammer back in her hand. Her mother was Irish, and paid close attention to any troubles in Northern Ireland. When those guys attacked one another, they liked to smash kneecaps. From what she had heard, this was a painful and lasting way to cripple somebody. The vampire was now fully fleshed out. Roxanne would kneecap him.
Roxanne pretended to walk toward the door.
She shifted over a little, though, getting closer to the vampire even as Randy was hugging Lacey good-bye.
Her hand tightened on the hammer.
She was wildly proud of herself. Violence! That was what would work. Lacey was being kind, but kindness, in the end, would only lead to her destruction. Roxanne would use what television had taught her to use: a weapon.
Bobby swaggered.
He tried to take up a lot of space. He flexed his arms and fingers as often as he could to warm up. He didn’t like the fact that this heavy action he had in mind had been preceded by such weakness on his part, but there was nothing he could do about that now.
He had Lacey to save and he had revenge to take.
And he was, Bobby knew for sure, the only one with a workable plan.
He would rip the cloak off the vampire.
The cloak was obviously part of the creature, and in some way his powerful, protective part. And yet it was separate. The vampire liked to uncover only his teeth and his hands and parts of his face. Bobby would shred the thing.
Even if it did not destroy the vampire, which Bobby was sure it would, it would give everybody lots of time to run out while the vampire tried to save himself and wrap himself back up.
Strength and determination flew down Bobby’s veins and arteries and coursed through his muscles. Bobby felt like a giant, a linebacker, a soldier for hire. There was nothing he could not do.
Lacey ran a hand down Randy’s chest.
Randy’s chest swelled with pride. He had never felt so strong and so needed. I’ll save you, he thought, careful to give no hints. He must not let the vampire know what he was up to. The vampire might
try to foil him. The vampire might even rush the “event” along, giving Randy little time to save Lacey.
Lacey put her head against Randy’s chest, and Randy nearly melted. He was so distracted, he nearly forgot his master plan.
“Don’t worry, Lacey,” he whispered. “Everything will be all right. I promise.”
Lacey looked up, gave him a gentle close-lipped smile, and stepped away from him.
The vampire’s fingernails were weightless.
They scraped over Zach’s clothing, dipped into his pocket, and removed his notes.
“You won’t need these outside,” said the vampire softly.
He chuckled. He was enjoying himself.
Oh, it had been a night to remember, all right. But the one who would remember, the one who was having the most fun, the one who was playing the longest game, was the vampire.
Zach could not believe he had been noticed.
Had been stopped.
“Go,” said the vampire to Zach, and the word was so intense, so meaningful, that Zach could do nothing else.
He went.
The doorway was open. It was possessed by nothing. Zach did not stumble. Zach did not falter, and his feet found the way in spite of the darkness.
Then the vampire caught Sherree’s hand. Her clenched fist fell open at his touch and she whimpered when he took the car keys. “No,” she blubbered. “See, I need the car keys. I took them from Randy because I need them.”
“Don’t worry,” said the vampire. “Once you are out of the mansion, you will forget why you needed them. You’ll hunt for a while, all of you feeling in your pockets to see who has them.”
The vampire, still holding Sherree’s hand, tossed the car keys out the open tower window.
“Eventually,” said the vampire, “you’ll see them in the grass. You’ll wonder why Randy dropped them there, and what took the five of you so long to see them.”
Randy thought: How will I even be able to open the Land Rover? I have to have the keys!
He willed himself to remember that the keys had been thrown into the grass, so that he could find them quickly, open the car, grab the camera, race back inside, scare off the vampire before the vampire could…
Fatal Bargain Page 10
