The Tome of Bill Series: Books 1-4 (Bill The Vampire, Scary Dead Things, The Mourning Woods, Holier Than Thou)

by Rick Gualtieri

  Speaking of China, there were mixed emotions there as well. The good being that seven thousand miles between myself and the disgust I felt at my inability to speak my mind with Sheila sounded pretty decent to me. I seriously doubted anything in the Gansu province of China would give me cause to dwell too much on her.

  Unfortunately, everything else fell into the bad category. The trip was a twenty-plus-hour nightmare of transfers, starting at LaGuardia (or as I like to think of it, Satan’s airport) and ending in Beijing. However, I needn’t have worried about being stuck in the middle row between two fatties or next to a screaming kid for the entire trip. No, because I was luggage.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  Did I say luggage? No, luggage would be too kind. After a whirlwind packing job, including making sure my iPod was charged – no way was I flying in the cargo hold for almost an entire day without some tunes – I managed to convince Ed to give me a late night drop-off. This did not put him into a good mood. If you’ve ever driven to LaGuardia, you know what I mean. It’s like the state of New York purposely decided to make one of their major transportation hubs as big of a clusterfuck as humanly possible. It was only after lots of twists, turns, and exit-only lanes that we finally managed to crawl through traffic to our destination. Things were bad enough, and we’re talking eleven PM here. I could only imagine the insanity of doing it at rush hour.

  As per Sally’s instructions, Ed dropped me off at a small private terminal. He gave me an annoyed growl as way of saying goodbye before driving off. The windows of the building were opaque, although whether this was purposeful or just layers of grime, I couldn’t tell. The doors were also locked from the inside. I stood there looking confused for about ten minutes – getting ready to pull my cell phone out and call Sally – when finally I heard a click. The doors opened. Beyond them was a figure silhouetted by the light inside that beckoned me forward. Creepy, but then again, I was a vampire. Creepiness kind of went hand in hand with my life these days. I tried to conceal my nervousness and walked in, thoughts of all the various slasher flicks I had ever seen going through my mind.

  I needn’t have worried. Vampire society wasn’t much different than ours once you got past the “blood-sucking eternal creatures of the night” aspect of it. Sure, they liked to put forth a mysterious atmosphere, but I think that was just to impress the newbs. Once you got past all that, it was surprisingly mundane. Case in point, once I entered the building, it became obvious that this was just another private terminal – small, spartan, and efficient. Once my eyes had adjusted to the light, I saw that my mysterious beckoning figure was another vampire, a rather bored looking one at that. He was wearing business casual and holding a clipboard.

  As I entered, he said in a completely disinterested tone, “Close the door behind you and give me your paperwork.” Right there and then, any creep factor dropped to zero. I was simply dealing with the undead equivalent of boarding check-in. I handed him the forms Sally had emailed over to me. He took a quick look and called back over his shoulder, “I need a box, a big one!”

  A few minutes later, a couple of shambling figures carried out what looked to be an oversized shipping crate. It was about seven feet long by three feet wide, and maybe four deep. The creatures carrying the crate were zombies. I had met some several months back. Apparently, they were the equivalent of general office staff to the vampires. Hmm, I wondered if they have a union. That wouldn’t surprise me in the least.

  Anyway, the zombies placed the crate on the floor. One of them procured a crowbar, which he used to pry the lid open. The top off, I could see the box was empty, save for some straw padding at the bottom and some black felt lining the inside – no doubt to keep the sunlight out. Looking into it, I got a distinctly sinking feeling.

  “Okay, get in,” said the bored vampire.

  “In there?”

  “You see any other box here?”

  “I thought I was supposed to be traveling in a coffin.” Either way, I wasn’t exactly going in style, but I was expecting a little better than this.

  “Coffin, crate, what’s the difference? You’ll fit and, since you’re flying freight, the accommodations don’t need to be fancy.”

  “Freight?” I asked, not quite believing what I had been told.

  “FedEx, to be exact. They’ll be loading you up in the next hour or so. We still gotta put all the export forms onto this thing, so we don’t have time for too much dicking around here. Hop on in.”

  “It’s a box.”

  “You want luxury? Next time, go first class, cheapskate.”

  That fucking bitch! She was mailing me to China. She was goddamned lucky that I had no interest in pissing off James. If not for that, I’d be grabbing a cab back to the Loft and sticking her ass in a box.

  “You waiting for an engraved invitation?” the vampire attendant asked impatiently.

  “No, I’m going.” I sighed and climbed in, trying my best to find a comfortable position to lie down in. “Just make sure my bags don’t get lost.”

  “Won’t be a problem,” he started tossing them in with me. I didn’t pack heavy, but still. What had merely been an uncomfortable fit was now a tight uncomfortable fit.

  “What the fuck, man?!” I cried in outrage.

  “Sorry. Your papers specify one and only one box. Take it or leave it.”

  Sadly, that last part wasn’t really an option. Before I could say another word, the zombies placed the lid back onto the crate and began nailing it shut.

  There was a knock on the top of my makeshift tomb, and I could hear the attendant say, “Whatever you do, don’t try to get out until they open it up. Once you’re in China, a truck will take you to your destination, and your contacts will release you. If you try to get out beforehand ... well, let’s just say the Chinese can be a little trigger happy.”

  Great! “What if I have to go to the bathroom?” I yelled back.

  “Heh! I hope for your sake you didn’t drink anything before getting here.”

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  My iPod made it about three quarters of the way through the flight before finally crapping out – not that I had much of a chance to relax and enjoy the music. The loading process alone was brutal. I must have been dropped at least three times. As for the flight, aside from some brief layovers to refuel, it was a real motherfucker. The pilot was either a daredevil or an idiot, as he seemed to make it a point to head straight into whatever turbulence he could find. Even had I not been afraid of flying before, I sure as shit was afterwards.

  When my music finally died, I did the only thing I could think of to pass the time ... mentally kill Sally over and over again. By the time we landed and I could feel my box being unceremoniously loaded onto a truck, I had come up with some pretty ingenious scenarios for her untimely demise. Ultimately, though, I kept coming back to using a wood chipper to do it. There’s nothing like the classics.

  The truck ride took another eternity, during which I had to assume we were either moving along unpaved roads or the driver had a serious fetish for potholes. Straw or no straw, all I knew was that my entire backside was full of splinters. I was just about to start hoping that one of them would eventually be long and sharp enough to pierce my heart when the truck finally stopped at long last.

  I could feel my temporary tomb being lifted up and then dumped onto the ground. Jesus Christ! Was it too much to ask for somebody to tape a fucking “Fragile: do not drop” sticker onto me?

  What followed was some muffled conversation. I couldn’t make it out. No surprise there. I was in China, after all ... or at least I hoped I was. It would be just my luck to have been delivered to the wrong place. There could be some poor schmuck in Alberta, Canada thinking he was about to unpack his new end table when whoops ... sorry, but we shipped you a pissed off vampire by mistake.

  The muffled conversation started to sound like a minor argument for a few minutes. However, finally it abated, and I could hear the truck start up again and drive off. I pati
ently waited for what would happen next, hoping against hope that there wasn’t a “Do not open until X-mas” sign on my new home.

  For the first time in over twenty-four hours, though, luck was with me. I heard the top of the crate being pried off. I just hoped it wasn’t high noon outside.

  The top began to move and I could see bright light starting to stream in. Oh shit! As it was lifted off, I gave a yell of panic and reached up to shield my face.

  A second or two passed and I finally noticed I wasn’t going up like wood shavings doused in gasoline. I slowly lowered my arms and realized the light was artificial. As my eyes adjusted, I made out James’s face, as well as those of a few others looking in at me. Most of the new faces looked bemused, no doubt at my little panic attack. However, James’s expression was a bit more perplexed.

  “Dr. Death?” he asked in his Bostonian accent, using my old coven name. “What are you doing here?” Despite his apparent confusion, he reached down and offered me a hand. I took it, as being wedged into a tiny box for over a day didn’t exactly leave one all that limber.

  As I slowly peeled myself from my wooden prison, I replied, “You sent for me. I’m here.”

  “No. I didn’t.”

  “Yeah. Sally told me you did. I just spent the last day wedged into that thing because I thought it was an emergency.”

  “Why didn’t you book a private charter like we normally do?”

  “That was an option?” I started to feel a different kind of smoldering going on behind my eyes.

  “Of course. This isn’t the eighteen-hundreds, you know. We only do that vampire in a casket thing on short hops or emergencies. Ghastly way to travel.”

  “Yes, it is,” I agreed dryly. “Let’s back up for a second. You didn’t send for me?”

  “Why would I? I shot Sally a message asking you to contact me, but I was expecting a call or maybe an email. Certainly not you arriving all gift wrapped like this.”

  “But she said...”

  “She must have heard incorrectly,” he replied dismissively. Somehow I doubted that. “Oh well, I guess you can stay for a bit. But there’s dangerous work afoot here. I’m afraid no more than a day or so, and you’ll have to head back.”

  “Please tell me you’re not stuffing me back into the box.”

  “Of course not. As long as you have your passport, it shouldn’t be an issue.”

  I was silent for a moment, and then averted my eyes.

  “You didn’t bring your passport, did you?”

  I quickly shook my head.

  He chuckled and patted the top of my packing crate. “Well then, I’m afraid we’ll probably need to hold on to this.” He then turned to the others and said something I couldn’t understand, probably in Chinese. A round of hearty laughter followed.

  “I assume that was at my expense.”

  “Sorry, my friend,” he replied with a smile. “But things have been fairly stressful here. I’m afraid we take our laughs when we can get them.”

  Speaking of here, I finally took a moment to look around. I was in what appeared to be a large circular tent. It was mostly bare except for some other crates off to the side. Apparently, this place was for storage. James was dressed warmly in what I guessed was native garb. His three companions, all males of distinctly Asian origin, were dressed similarly.

  “Care to introduce me to your friends, James?” I asked.

  He raised an eyebrow.

  “I abolished that rule months ago,” I explained. “I didn’t think you went by Ozymandias anywhere else.”

  “Ah, yes. I heard you had overthrown Night Razor. Congratulations on that, by the way. Oh well, I suppose you’re right. James it is. However, I hope you don’t mind if I keep calling you Dr. Death. I know it’s hokey, but after a while, I found myself growing used to it.”

  “Knock yourself out.”

  “Excellent,” he replied and then turned to his companions. “May I introduce you to Nergui, Bang, and Cheng-gong.” I tried not to smirk at that second one. I bet he was a real hit with the ladies.

  The one called Nergui turned to me and bowed. “It is an honor to meet you, Freewill Dr. Death.”

  “Thanks! Nice to meet you, too.”

  James then said, “Nergui is the only one who speaks any English, so I’m afraid you won’t get much conversation out of the other two. Unless, that is, your Mandarin is up to snuff.”

  “I’m lucky to speak English,” I replied, nodding in the direction of the other two.

  “Well, why don’t you wait here for a bit, and we’ll see what we can do for lodgings for the night.”

  “Sounds good, as long as you can point me toward the nearest bathroom first.”

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  James gave me instructions to wait where I was with Nergi and then left with the two non-English speakers. He said it was in case I had any questions, but I had the feeling it was to keep an eye on me and make sure I didn’t wander off. He needn’t have worried too much. I wasn’t quite up for any major exploring. Being a native of New Jersey and a current resident of Brooklyn, anything below the rating of suburban was more or less alien to me. I had no intention of walking around the wrong tree and winding up hopelessly lost.

  In the meantime, I slowly made a circuit of the tent and tried to engage Nergui in small talk.

  “So ... how long have you been here?” I asked. Yeah, it was lame, but sue me. It’s not often I found myself stuck in a tent in deepest darkest China talking to what I presumed was a Mongolian vampire.

  “It has been my honor to serve the Khan for these past three and a half centuries,” he replied in a neutral voice. Okay, so I was dealing with another heavy hitter here. If James wanted me to stay put, there was no way I was getting away from this guy.

  “That’s Ogedai Khan, right?”

  “We do not address him by his former name. He is simply the Khan,” Nergui said with that same tone. I wasn’t getting much of a read off this guy. Hopefully I wasn’t going to say anything to insult him. I’d hate for my first outdoor view of China to be of my face getting bashed against a rock.

  “Sorry. Not trying to be insulting. I’m just curious,” I said, trying to covering my ass. Nergui simply nodded. “Is he really the son of Genghis Khan?”

  “Indeed. The Khan is the chosen son of the great Temüjin. He keeps his spirit of conquest alive in our hearts, if perhaps not in our actions.”

  “That is so freaking cool!”

  “Explain this ‘freaking cool’ you speak of,” he said, again without a trace of emotion. Damn, this guy could teach Ed a thing or two. He was stone cold. Of course, maybe I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions. It could just be that I was a stranger and he was speaking in a non-native language.

  “It’s a phrase from my country. It means it’s really great to know, I guess. I mean, it’s not every day you get to talk about a person straight out of the history books in the present tense.” Yeah, I was rambling.

  Nergui nodded again. “You are young, Freewill. In time, these things will become common for you.”

  “I guess it’s safe to assume you know all about this whole Freewill thing.”

  “Many do. It has been a long time since one such as you has been seen. Our seers have spent much time trying to divine what it means.”

  “I don’t think too much of it,” I said dismissively. “Luck of the draw, I suppose. I got turned, and it just happened to be a coincidence.”

  “No such thing,” he said with an air of finality.

  I decided not to argue with him for obvious reasons. Time to change the topic of discussion. “So, Nergui, right? What do you do for the Khan?”