by Night, H. T.
What he was was anyone’s guess.
“Where’s your father now?” I asked.
“He left last night for Mount Shasta.” And then she looked at me with huge, rounds eyes that were quickly filling with tears. “And he took my little sister with him.”
I frowned, letting this sink in. I had planned to leave tomorrow night, without Parker, but I could see I wasn’t going to be able to shake her. Not with her sister in potential danger. Shasta was about nine hours from Seattle. If we left right away, we could get there by morning, and I could crash during the day.
I grabbed my keys. “Let’s go.”
“Let’s go where?”
“Road trip.”
Chapter Ten
Parker didn’t protest.
As I threw together my travel bag, she told me a little about her mother. And people call me a monster.
Apparently, Pops had a heavy influence on his wife, and she was the true tyrant in the house. Parker had suffered many beatings growing up and had rarely, if ever, been given any kind of freedom. Her mother had not always been like this. The change had only come within the past seven or eight years, which, coincidentally, was about when her father launched his cult.
Now with her mother passed out—apparently, she always passed out after taking her nightly dose of medication on top of the booze—Parker had taken the city buses to find her way.
She didn’t admit it, at least not yet, but I was certain she had followed me during the week. I knew she didn’t drive, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t followed me with a friend. Which meant that a friend now knew where I lived, too. I would have to find out who this friend was. I have my ways, but hopefully she’d just come clean. And if her friend was trustworthy or just minded her own business, then we wouldn’t have a problem. If the friend came snooping around, we’d have a problem.
Or, rather, they’d have a problem. A very big problem.
For now, though, I let it go. We had a more pressing matter. With my bag in hand, we hit the road. It was coming on 11 p.m. and I was going to have to eat some road to get there before dawn...and to check into a nice hotel with even nicer curtains. Thick curtains that kept the sun out.
Parker didn’t complain about not having enough clothes. She didn’t even ask to use the restroom. Instead, with her jaw set in grim determination, she sat by my side in my Mustang as I headed south through the bright lights of downtown Seattle.
* * *
Parker slept most of the trip.
Me, I was wide awake and feeling more alive than ever. I wondered what awaited us in Mount Shasta. That her father was dealing with something unknown and nefarious was a given. The evidence was there. The body, in particular. It had been drained dry, according to Parker.
I looked over at her now as we wound through the deep-cut canyons that would eventually lead to Mount Shasta. She was still sleeping, her head propped against the seatbelt mechanism. Not comfortable, but she didn’t seem to care. It was pitch black out and I shouldn’t be able to see her, but I could. The night was alive to my eyes, filled with light and color unseen to mortal eyes. I saw her every feature clearly. She was a pretty young girl. Too young for me, but someday she’d make a geeky teen boy the happiest geek on earth.
Had she known who—or what—was sitting next to her, I wondered if she would sleep so contently. Then again, when you’re raised by monsters, and her father was very much looking like something out of a Dean Koontz novel, perhaps an everyday, run-of-the mill vampire wasn’t a problem.
There had been a time in my past when Parker should have feared for her life. I have gained some semblance of control over the creature inside me. I didn’t have to kill to feed, and this epiphany had been a long time coming.
Many had died by my hand. By my mouth.
But never again.
Or so I hoped.
With the sky beginning to brighten in the east, and as my energy began to wane, the stunning Mount Shasta appeared on the far horizon. The mountain with presence, as I thought of it, and I was not the only one. Down through the ages, many had ascribed power and legend to the mountain, and for good reason. The mountain loomed above the smattering of foothills and lesser mountains like a white god. Its barren white slopes, striking in their purity, resonated on a soul level that needed to be witnessed to be felt.
Even in the darkness, with dawn on the eastern horizon, the upper slopes glowed with a radiance that seemed supernatural, and as the mountain loomed before us, we pulled into Mount Shasta City and to the first inn I could find.
Chapter Eleven
We got lucky.
Despite there being a New Age festival going on in celebration of the mountain, the inn had received a cancellation just hours before, and we were able to procure a room with two beds. And not just two beds, two bedrooms.
I did not return to high school to sleep with students. In fact, I had no interest in such activities. Such physical desires had died in me long ago. No, I enrolled in night school for the experience only. The same reason I do anything. For the experience.
I had been turned long ago at a young age, and it’s amazing what staying out of the sun does for your skin. That, and being immortal, of course. Had I looked any older, I would have enrolled in college, but I looked like an eighteen-year-old, which just so happened to be my age on the night my world had forever changed.
And I don’t mean that figuratively.
But that’s another story for another time. Although physical activity never exhausted me, I used the excuse of having driven all night and a need for sleep. This was partially true, of course. I had a need to sleep. A strong one, although it wasn’t so much sleeping as...biding my time, as I thought of it. Whether or not I actually slept was open to debate, but I saw myself as lying in a sort of catatonia. Somewhere between living and dead, surely, as my body waited for the sun to go down.
Yeah, I’m weird.
And Parker didn’t need to know any of this, either. Which is why once we got to the inn, she crawled immediately under the covers of the bed in the front room, not even flirting, while I slipped into the back room, pulled the drapes tight, and waited for dawn.
I didn’t have to wait long. Soon, I was out to the world. Or perhaps dead to this world in which I barely belong.
* * *
It takes a lot to stir me from the dark places I go during the day, and Parker, mercifully, had respected my wishes to sleep during the day. It wasn’t until evening, just before the sun had officially set, that she had finally roused me awake.
I drifted up from the dark depths to see her smiling face hovering over me.
“Boy,” she said. “You are almost impossible to wake up.”
I sat up. The returning of consciousness was always a bit disconcerting. I distinctly had the feeling of being away from my body. Where I was, I hadn’t a clue, but I was somewhere...and most certainly not in this room.
“Yeah, well, I sleep deeply.” Understatement of the year.
“You don’t snore or anything. I mean, you were just lying there...like a corpse or something. I couldn’t even hear you breathe.”
Which is why I suspected most vampires of the world avoided sleeping in hotel rooms with curious teenage girls. Myself, I’ve never tried a coffin, although I could see the value in it. Peace and quiet, although you could be mistaken for a corpse...and find yourself buried six feet under.
“It’s not nice to watch people sleep.”
“I’m bored. And hungry.” She got up and was about to throw open the curtain in my bedroom.
“Stop!”
She whirled, gasping. “What? What happened?” One of her hands had still snagged one corner of the curtain, and the light that suddenly filled the room, although faint, was enough to make me recoil. She dropped the curtain, frowning.
I said, “Sorry, but I have a...condition.”
“Condition?”
“Sensitive skin. I can’t be out in the sun for long.”
&
nbsp; “But there’s no sun. In fact, the sun is almost set.”
“It hasn’t set.”
“How do you know.”
I knew. Trust me, I knew, but I said, “You can still hear the birds. C’mon, let’s eat. Now, get out so I can change.”
She left, but on the way out, she looked back at me once, frowning. “Need any help?”
I couldn’t tell if she was concerned or being coy. “Got it covered. See you in a few.”
I smiled, got dressed, and removed a very special packet from the cooler inside my suitcase. The packet wasn’t as cute as Parker, but it was nourishing all the same.
* * *
The town of Mount Shasta City is quaint.
It sits at the base of the south face of the mountain. Mount Shasta is famous for its weird cloud formations that surround the peak, and that night was no different. Streaks of velvety contrails spread from the peak in three or four directions, as if the mountain were wearing a crown of thorns. Additionally, a weird, stacked plume rose directly above the mountain, sort of capping it.
I caught Parker staring at the mountain, her mouth slightly open. The mountain was stare-worthy; indeed, as we cruised the streets looking for a place to eat, I often saw people standing in doorways, smoking and staring...or walking and staring. Or just standing and staring.
The mountain was their deity. And if it wasn’t, it was damn close.
We found a Mexican restaurant called Lalo’s that had a full bar. The full bar part was important. We were seated next to a display of crystals that were for sale. I knew that Mount Shasta was a mecca for New Agers and their crystals. You can’t have a mountain that resplendent, with mystical stories that reach down through the ages, without somebody selling crystals. Apparently, the restaurant was cashing in on the hype, along with eight-dollar mixed drinks.
The crystals caught Parker’s eyes and she studied them intently. One in particular. A beautiful, violet-colored geode within a darker shell.
We ordered drinks and I promptly ordered a Bloody Mary. The waitress asked to see my ID and I showed her mine. It was a fake ID, and when the waitress was gone, I said as much to Parker. She snickered. Fake IDs were cool to teens...and absolutely mandatory for immortals.
When the waitress returned with our drinks—orange juice for Parker—I pretended to sip on the Bloody Mary. Pretended, because I couldn’t drink it. We next ordered food—or, rather, Parker did. I made an excuse that I was never hungry upon awakening and Parker bought it. She ordered a cheese enchilada and the waitress scooted off.
I next asked Parker if she wouldn’t mind getting a map of Mount Shasta from the car, a map I had printed out at home prior to leaving. She shrugged and I gave her the keys, and as soon as she left, I went to work. I slipped out of the booth and to the nearby bathroom, bringing my drink with me. Once in the bathroom, I dumped the contents and refilled it with a packet of blood I had stashed inside my jacket.
By the time Parker came back with the map and my keys, I was sitting again at my table, happily drinking from my freshly-topped-off glass of hemoglobin.
“Breakfast of champions,” Parker said, noting how I downed the drink.
“Better than bacon.”
“Nothing’s better than bacon. Except a kiss in the rain.”
“You’re too young to be romantic,” I said.
“And you act like you’re a million years old.”
“No. Just a few hundred.”
I grinned and she glared at me a moment, and then decided it was a joke.
“Now,” I said, spreading the map in front of us on the table. “Show me where Cloudland is.”
Chapter Twelve
Combining the map with the information I’d received when registering for Cloudland, I figured out it was a little south of town, in the hilly area called McCloud. And there were clouds around the mountain. And it was even a cloudy night.
So The Answer wasn’t very original. I guess he put all his creative energy into concocting ways to kill people.
That draining of Cindy’s blood still bothered me, and caused me to be even more uneasy about this whole set-up. The fact that I’d just polished off a glass of the stuff reminded me how weird it was. Sure, it was “natural” to me after all this time, but I still understood that I was a freak of nature.
For the first time, I wondered if maybe I was getting into a situation that was a lot more weird than it appeared. Which was saying something.
“So we just drive up to the gates?” she asked. “I flash my cleavage and get us in that way?”
“One, you don’t have much cleavage, and two, I am an officially registered guest of Cloudland. So I go in alone.”
Her eyes widened. “You dragged me all the way down here to sit on the sidelines? It’s my dad, remember? I owe it to Cindy to get to the bottom of this, plus I need to save my sister.”
I held up the palm of one hand. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Get off the martyr train.”
Her brown eyes were flashing fire now. “I need revenge.”
“That’s not a very healthy attitude, and if you loose your cool, you will make mistakes.”
“Jesus, Spider, I don’t understand you. Nothing works on you. I flirt, I show some skin, I try to rile you up, I’ve done everything but hit on that hunky guy at the end of the bar.”
I didn’t even bother to look, and that made her madder than ever. “What is it with you?”
I shrugged. “You asked for my help.”
“But what do you get out of it?”
I tapped my empty glass with one gray fingernail. “Cheap thrills and a bar tab.”
The waitress came over and asked if I wanted another. I thought about ordering just to give the appearance of being one of the crowd, but the bar was already filling up and getting noisy. Apparently the New Agers weren’t so different after all.
After I sent her away with a big tip, I leaned toward Parker. “So, why do you think your sister’s here?”
“I called her four times while you were asleep. No answer. She always returns my calls.”
“Do you have a photo of her?”
Parker shook her head. “No way. I show you, you cut me out of the action.”
“Actually, I want you to come, but you have to do it my way. Do you trust me?”
She pouted a moment, and then nodded. “I guess I have to.”
She fished in her purse and brought out a small school picture and laid it on the table. I studied it. “Looks like you from two years ago?”
“Exactly. Not hard to find her, huh?”
“So we find her. Have you ever ridden in the trunk of a Mustang?”
* * *
My hunch was right that Cloudland would have a pretty sophisticated check-in system. The gatehouse featured two guards, and the one who came to my car window wasn’t carrying a gun, but I figured they had some heavy artillery inside. I showed him my “Summer Rain” identification, as well as my receipt.
“Summer,” he said. “That’s a weird name for a boy.”
“I’m not a boy, I’m a man,” I said.
His bulldog face went a little hard and mean so I let him win by saying, “My parents were raised in Big Sur. You know, hippies.”
“I hate hippies. We get a lot of them around the mountain.”
“You’re lucky you have a nice, high fence topped with barbed wire all around. Nobody gets in or out without your permission, right?”
His sunglasses were as blank as his face as he shined the flashlight into the car’s interior. These guys were even more paranoid than I thought.
“Open the trunk,” he said.
“Excuse me?”
“It’s in the rules where you registered. Says ‘All guests are subject to search at any time.’ Can’t have no drugs or alcohol on the premises. No laptops, magazines, cell phones, pagers, Kindles, iPods, none of that junk.”
I guess I should have read the rules, but you know how those things are. Pages and pages of legalese. Who has ti
me for that?
“I’m pretty sure that’s a violation of my Fourth Amendment rights,” I said.
“We don’t got no amendments at Cloudland,” he said. “And my job is to search every vehicle that enters the grounds, or it doesn’t enter the grounds. And I like my job, you know what I mean?”
“I imagine there’s not much other work around here except selling crystals to hippies,” I said, stalling for time.
“Open it.”
I shrugged and hit the release. As the guard with the bulldog face went to the rear, the other guard stepped to the doorway of the gatehouse. He was definitely packing.
Bulldog rummaged around a little, but the only thing I had back there was a spare tire and a tool kit. We’d left the luggage in the hotel, along with our tech toys. Since all guests of Cloudland were required to exchange their clothes for the obligatory tunics and baggy knickers, as well as ceremonial robes, there was no sense bringing anything but a toothbrush, and I was surprised they even allowed that.
“Looks clean,” he said.
I smiled, but not too much. I didn’t want my pointy teeth to show. “Where do I park?”
“Hold on a second,” said the second guard. He was chubby and had probably been a real cop in a former life, because he waddled toward me with an air of practiced authority. If the other guard was Bulldog, this one was Pit Bull Mix.
“We don’t get many boys here,” he said.
“So I’ve heard,” I said. Thanks to my “bloody Mary,” I was pretty sated at the moment, but his big fat neck looked inviting, and I could see his purple carotid artery pulsing out a Morse code of juiciness.
“You’re not one of them funny boys, are you?”
