The Glass Vampire

by David Page

  Beneath the segment on the missing vampires, a smaller article entitled, “Vampires take jobs from Migrant Workers,” discussed the problems that the vampire rights movement had caused among the farm laborers of Washington’s wine country. A third article talked about the historical benefits gained from direct interviews with vampires. Richard shrugged. At least the news wasn’t all bad.

  He tossed the paper to the floor, slid lower on the bed and closed his eyes. He had a good three hours before his shift started. Perhaps some sleep, however uneasy, might help him to focus on the problems that plagued him. He concentrated on slowing his breathing and allowing his mind to drift. Soon, his conscious mind slipped into unnerving dreams where his young teenager assailants chased him across the medieval French countryside with pitchforks and shovels….

  2

  Richard awoke to the shrill wailing of his tracking bracelet’s alarm clock. He opened his eyes wide, all thoughts of his situation flying from his mind. It was ten-thirty PM. He had slept longer than he had intended.

  "Damn." He sprang from bed, grabbed his coat and darted out the door, heading this time for the rear of the building, chancing that the teenagers had left by now.

  His guess was proven right as he exited the building and found the alley devoid of any threats. He sprinted with mere human speed, past the dumpster and out onto sidewalk and into the night.

  As it had been earlier, the traffic on Stone Way was light as he headed south towards the nearest bus stop. The road sloped gently towards Lake Union. A mix of old bungalow style houses, 1970’s apartment buildings and newer more modern condominiums stood to either side all the way to the marinas and shipyards at the water. Beyond the distant docks, several boats bobbed on the water, barely visible in the dim light provided by their running lights and the luminescence coming from the houseboats that nestled against much of the lake’s shoreline. Far in the distance, the skyscrapers of downtown winked at him like the lights on a Yule tree. Richard had often marveled at the beauty of that particular view.

  He reached the small, open bus-stop canopy but did not go inside. Although it was still cloudy, it was not raining. And even if it had been, vampires were not permitted to enter the structure per Seattle City ordinance number 1876.

  He did not have to stand there long. Mere moments after he arrived, his carriage approached. He could see that it was crowded, with a person in every window and the indistinct shapes of people standing in the aisle. He swallowed nervously, wondering if he would make it onboard. The massive green and yellow double-sectioned bus pulled up with a hiss. Its front doors opened and a heavyset dark-skinned man turned towards him. On his console next to his steering wheel, the red indicator flashed. Richard frowned at the light.

  “I’m sorry, son. There isn’t any room for vampires.” The man’s voice was calm and even sympathetic. He waved to him. “You’ll have to catch the next one.”

  Richard sighed. There was nothing he could do.

  “Close the door!” one of the female passengers shouted.

  “Yeah, leave his bitch ass there!” a young man added.

  A chorus of angry shouts and jeers followed.

  “You’d best back off a few steps.” The driver closed the door and the bus pulled away.

  “See you later, vamp!” a young woman shouted out the window.

  “Sinner!” another chimed in.

  And then they were gone and Richard remained standing there. The woman’s ‘sinner’ comment was almost amusing… almost. Humans were quick to use their own religious beliefs to justify their own sad or terrible behavior. They had apparently forgotten how religion had brought such wonderful things to the world as the Crusades, the Spanish Inquisition, and the Salem Witch Trials. And even in a modern world where people used religion as an excuse to blow up innocent civilians, they still failed to see the irony and the hypocrisy.

  He shook his head, silently wishing that he could find a way to make every one of them pay. He would show them how to repent…

  The next bus screeched to a halt in front of him, the doors opened and a gaunt looking man in a tilted driver’s cap stared at him without comment. Richard took this as an invitation, not that he needed one. He made sure his tracking bracelet was out of site beneath his coat sleeve and climbed aboard. Trying his best to appear inconspicuous, and hoping the passengers hadn’t noticed the red indicator light on the driver’s console, he moved along towards the vampire section at the rear.

  Men and women representing a broad span of ages spread out through the cabin. Most of them wore coats of one type or another against the fall chill and the strong possibility of rain. They ignored him, instead looking out the windows or at the floor in an apparent effort to be antisocial. Halfway back, however, a young girl with golden pigtails glanced up at him with wide blue eyes and smiled.

  Richard paused, pleasantly shocked by her innocent kindness. He nodded to her.

  Her look dissolved into a frightened stare and she pointed.

  “Vampire!” She began to cry.

  “Leave us alone, devil!” Her mother put a protective arm around her and glared at him.

  “I…I’m sorry,” Richard stammered. “I was only being polite.”

  “Get away from us!” An elderly woman waved an umbrella at him.

  “Yeah, get out of our section!” A man in a business suit ordered, hefting a laptop menacingly.

  Ignoring the old woman and resisting the urge to strangle the man with his neck tie, Richard bowed his head and hurried to the rear of the bus where a small section of very uncomfortable, plastic seats awaited. A V on the floor marked it as the vampire area. Sitting in the rear was historically humiliating and Richard had to wonder what Rosa Parks or Martin Luther King might have said about putting vampires there. Regardless, at least he was allowed to ride for free. All he had to do was scan his bracelet on the way out. The government spun this as a perk, however it was clearly an additional way for the Department to verify his location against its internal GPS system.

  As the bus pulled away from the curb, he glanced at his bracelet. It was ten forty-nine. He would never make. With little to do about his tardiness, he settled in and frowned out the window. A short while later the bus driver deftly maneuvered the massive vehicle up to a stop near a pedestrian overpass on highway ninety-nine. The doors opened and a man in a faded, but thick winter coat climbed aboard. He slipped on one of the steps and barely caught himself. He recovered and then staggered towards the rear as they pulled away from the curb.

  Richard did not need heightened senses to recognize a drunk. The man, probably homeless, could barely stand, and the stench of alcohol and body odor quickly filled the entire bus. The vagrant continued back passed the other passengers. They did their best to completely ignore him and even the little girl did not pay him any attention. Finally, he reached the last row before the V section.

  Now that he was closer, Richard could see the man’s leathery, weather beaten face. His eyes were clouded, his hair stood up in all directions and half of his teeth were missing. He peered at Richard from beneath bushy eyebrows, looked at the section sign and then back at him.

  “Vampires,” he mumbled and proceeded to spit at Richard’s feet. Without waiting for a response, he spun wobbly on one heel, stumbled back into the middle of the bus and then collapsed sideways across three seats.

  Richard leaned back, his eyes suddenly moist. Once, he had been hated and feared only by the rare ‘believers’ for who and what he was. Now, he was hated and feared equally by everyone. To have such negative emotion constantly directed towards him was disheartening and for a moment, he again wondered if it might have been better if he had died in the camps along with so many others. Even as he thought it, however, his soul railed against it. He had to survive, had to save her.

  He focused on the trees on the hill to their right and listened to the drone of the bus, trying to find a moment of peace in its steady rhythm. He found none.

  3

/>   "You know that I supported Craig's decision to hire you, Richard… but this is the fourth day in a row you've been at least three minutes late for work." Joe Drew stood between the large plate glass windows and the oval conference-room table. The man would have stood several inches shorter than Richard were it not for his spiked hair. The blond spears protruding from his head contrasted humorously with his zigzagged wool sweater, bellbottomed jeans and cork sandals.

  Richard nodded his understanding and glanced out the window. Several skyscrapers, lit up like Christmas Trees, formed a colossal frame around the dark waters of Elliot Bay. If he had been alone, he might have found the view soothing, but with Joe standing there, his goatee fixed in place around a mouth that rarely smiled, it offered him little solace.

  "I understand your position, Joe, however I feel inclined to mention the trouble I had with-"

  “Richard.” Joe put up one hand. "I don't care why. If you're having trouble getting here for your shift, then you need to leave earlier." He brushed the front of his sweater and walked around the table.

  Richard forced himself to remain where he was. This was the part where Joe would pretend they were friends. He knew from experience that it was in his best interest to play along with the man. He did his best to appear repentant, nodding his understanding and frowning as if frustrated with himself. Sure enough, Joe reached over and put an arm around his shoulder, guiding him towards the door.

  "Look, I understand that Vampire Americans have gone through a lot since the Announcement, and am also aware that the recent vampire disappearances might have you on edge, but unless you want your coworkers to start thinking of you as an Affirmative Action Employee, you need to ignore that other stuff, focus, and get your shit together. Okay?"

  Richard resisted the break the man's nose. Even without super strength, he was still a former knight and vassal of William the Conqueror. It might have been a thousand years since he had trained on the grounds of the White Tower, but he had never let his fighting skills slip. He was quite capable of crushing the cartilage on Joe’s smug face. Of course, he was also smart enough and wise enough to know the futility of such a move. The Department kept a cell with his name on it, waiting for the day that he went too far. And in light of the missing vampires, he hardly thought antagonizing the few people who treated him like a human being was a good idea.

  "I'll do better. Thanks for your understanding." A little validation of Joe's ‘people’ skills couldn't hurt. "It's nice to work for such an open-minded individual."

  ***

  Richard walked meekly out of the conference room and charted a course down the narrow aisle between dark offices on the right and a massive cubicle farm on the left. A single bank of fluorescent lights and several computer monitors cast a sickly glow and drew long shadows that reached towards him with dark fingers.

  Just ahead, a small area of light pressed back the night. A small square of tall cubicle walls stood apart from the rest of the floor, rising above the surrounding offices and workstations like the tower of Saint Rule’s Church. This structure, however, had no ancient stones, no religion, and no history. The walls were too high for Richard to see over, but he could hear the patter of keyboards and muffled booms as the other support representatives went about their nightly ritual of blasting through mindless computer games.

  Thinking it fostered a better team atmosphere, Joe had removed most of the inner walls leaving a large open area around which Richard and his coworkers performed their duties. Richard rounded the corner and saw that his fellow employees clustered near a single PC on the left wall. Standing stiffly behind them in his trademark gray suit, Ray, their team lead and intermediary between them and Joe, watched with casual interest. He turned and offered Richard a half smile. Of all of his coworkers, Ray was the only one who ever treated him with anything resembling respect. More exactly, he treated him like a member of the group. Richard was uncertain as to his motives, but thought it possible that on some level Ray felt as out of place as he did. The man insisted on dressing in business attire for the graveyard shift, something that the other Big River employees frowned upon. There seemed to be a secret mandate for them to dress like slobs.

  Next to Ray like some kind of yin yang mirror image, Bob stood in his dirt-smeared Hawaiian shirt. He watched as Stan, the widest member of their team played a first person shooter computer game in front of them. Richard nodded curtly to Ray and ignored the rest, crossing instead to his seat on the opposite corner. His desk space was Spartan at best, having only a few procedural memos hanging on his one wall. In part, his choice of décor was motivated by his desire to remain as inconspicuous as possible among his peers, but since the Announcement, he barely had any possessions with which to decorate.

  He removed the figurine of the knight from his pocket and set it on the desk next to his monitor. He switched on his monitor, logged into his phone and slipped his headset into place. It was true that vampires were invisible to video as well as still photography, but their voices carried quite nicely over phone lines making them ideal for technical support positions. That, coupled with their inability to venture forth in the daylight, made them perfect candidates for the graveyard shift. Thus, upon his release from the camps, he had endeavored to learn all he could about technology.

  "Turn the corner, turn the corner!" Bob shouted.

  An explosion shook the room as Stan's subwoofer magnified the blast of the rotary cannon his computer-generated character fired.

  "What is this evening’s game of choice?" Richard swiveled his chair to face his teammates.

  "Where is the dirt-bag?" Stan's voice was frantic and Richard could hear his thick sausage fingers pounding on the keyboard as he continued to shoot.

  Bob raised his hands. "Slow down, he's in the next room! I've cleared this level already. Watch out, he's a fast blood sucker!"

  Richard frowned. They had to be playing "Department, the Early Years." It was their favorite game, perhaps because they knew it annoyed him, or perhaps because hunting vampires was just trendy. He pushed off the ground moving his chair backwards until he could see their game screen.

  "Should I use the BFG instead of the rotary cannon?" Stan slowed his character's movement, stopping in the middle of a brown, stone passage.

  No doubt the game’s fictitious hero hunted vampires in some cold, wet dungeon. Everyone seemed to think vampires lived only in ruins or dank crypts. It was true that the foolish ones did, but they never survived very long. Occasionally, during times of strife, Richard had hidden in a basement or two, but that had always been a last resort.

  "They're playing Vampires, again." Ray loosened his tie and lifted it up above his neck, pretending to strangle himself with it.

  Richard smiled at the joke. "So I gathered." He turned back to his monitor, grabbed his mouse and launched his email.

  "Look out!" Bob shouted.

  The cannon blasted again, each shot echoing across the floor. Richard supposed that there were no other employees in the building to care about the noise.

  "He's moving too fast. I can't hit him."

  "Turn, turn!" Bob ordered.

  After one final explosion that shook Richard's chair and caused his computer screen to flicker, the game went silent.

  "Shit!” Someone, presumably Stan, pounded their fist on their desk. “The bastard got me again!"

  Richard ignored them, turning his attention instead to his email. With the exception of some spam advertising the latest sexual performance drugs and mortgage lenders, his inbox was empty. He sighed, feeling his soul sink a bit lower. He had not expected to find any email, really. Vampires were forbidden from having communications with one another and all of his human friends had abandoned him, or he them, after the Announcement. Every now and then, however, he received communications from scholars seeking firsthand accounts of various historical events. Richard realized that these learned men and women had no interest in him as a person, but it was still nice to receive attention.
He was only too happy to tell them all he knew about a particular subject.

  A drawer slammed behind him. "This game is so unrealistic. Vampires can’t fly, and even if they could, how hard could they be to kill?"

  Richard's inner voice told him to let the comment lie, but at least part of what Stan had said demanded a response. He turned towards them and smiled. "While it is true that vampires do not have the ability to fly, if this was at all realistic, you would have perished ten seconds into the game."

  "Really?” Stan's voice dripped with venom. His chair groaned as he swiveled towards him. The fluorescent lights glittering off his thick glasses. “Did you tell that to the government when they released their virus and captured your ass?"

  Richard clenched his fists and felt his face flushing with near human color.

  "Yeah, Richard, all your magical powers didn't help you there." Bob laughed.

  Richard slowly exhaled, never taking his eyes from them. Their ignorance screamed for a response he knew he could never deliver.

  "All right, guys, that's enough. We're all part of the same team." Ray stepped between them.

  "Yeah, yeah." Stan turned back to his machine, unimpressed.

  Ray’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly and his smiled slipped almost imperceptibly. It was the first time in several months of working together that he had ever noticed such an expression on the ever-cheerful man.

  “Do you know what, Stan?” Ray’s tone was calm and measured. “Maybe you should get back to work and quit with the slacking.”