by Ian Hall
Within an hour, a dark figure tapped on the glass of the back door.
Frank Reynolds was a kinda heavyset guy, maybe forty or so, and he carried a large, black rucksack. He held his card up, then made a shush signal. I nodded, and let him in.
He took out a pad and wrote:
Turn off all computers and pull the plugs from the wall. Everything.
I nodded, and took off upstairs first, then down to the basement. Once I returned, Reynolds had a large box plugged into the kitchen socket.
He nodded and held his thumb up. His eyes were questioning.
I nodded.
He flicked a switch on, and the box hummed.
He waited a second. “Ok, Mr. Bracks, How can I help you?”
“We can talk?”
He laughed. “Oh, hell yes. Any transmitter in a hundred yards is now fried, or jammed stupid.”
I lay tucked away in my cubbyhole in the attic. So far, no little fury creature had offered itself to be sacrificed. It’d been hours .The hunger felt already severe; to the point I was thinking hard about prowling the alleys for a nice hunk of homeless meat.
All of a sudden I became aware of this buzzing that seemed to be crawling all over my skin. It took a few minutes before I realized it was an actual sound. A buzzing sound, all around me.
Like tiny little ghosts darting around my peripheral vision, voices I could barely make out drifted in and out of the crawling hum. I felt so drained, my vampire hearing couldn’t strain enough to make out any words.
So, I crept out and stopped at the staircase. The noise sounded even worse out there. But, the voices were clearer. And I could easily smell human blood; so close, yet so far away. My mouth began to sweat in anticipation. Literally - I had to wrap my arms around the banister to keep myself from flying off toward that scent.
Lyman was talking, “I have a few theories as to who may be interested in tracking me, Mr. Reynolds…but, nothing concrete.”
The food answered him, “It’d help me to know who you think it might be…and why they have you tagged, Mr. Bracks.”
“The who is your business. The why is mine.”
Lyman sounded tough, self-assured, his inner-vampire talking for sure! It made me smile despite the fact that I felt about to collapse.
“You’re not giving me much to go on here, son.”
“Isn’t that kind of the point of what you do, Mr. Reynolds? Start from scratch and build from nothing? I mean - you’re the P.I.”
That perked my ears way the heck up. Seriously - why would Lyman be all the sudden into hiring a private investigator? And one that smelled like bacon?
“That is what I do, Mr. Bracks. And if I do say so myself - nobody else in Gregor can get the job done better.”
“If that little device is any indication, it seems like you’ve definitely got the tricks of the trade down.”
So that’s what that creepy-crawl thing was! Some fancy P.I. gadget. I’d thought I was going into some kind of vampire shock!
“I look forward to doing business with you, son. We’ll be in touch.”
I heard footsteps, then just as quick as it’d come on, the buzz on my skin stopped. Mr. Reynolds soon retreated out the door and his yummy scent followed him. Not a minute later, Lyman appeared at the bottom of the steps.
“Holy crap, Mandy!” he came rushing up at me. “You look like shit.”
I growled, “That’s not something you should say to a vampire…”
“It doesn’t look like you’re in any condition to do much about it just now.”
Lyman lifted me up by the arm and half-carried me to his bed. He eased my head back on the pillow and covered me up; until then, I hadn’t even realized I’d been shaking.
“You still haven’t fed, have you?” he wiped at my cheek with his sleeve. “You’re literally foaming at the mouth!”
My words sounded far away. “That human smelled amazing...”
For a guy, Lyman had a total maternal streak running through him. It reminded me of my mom the way he swept the hair back out of my face, his expression all doting and concerned.
“I can’t believe I’m going to say this,” he told me, “but I’ve got to get you something to eat.”
“I’ll be okay. Why do you need to hire a P.I. anyway?”
“We can talk about that later. First things first.”
Lyman split from the room like a man on a mission. His footsteps were hard and heavy as he made down the stairs. Right before I passed out, I heard the front door slam.
I stood at a crossing point of my life. Either save Mandy, or let her do something really stupid. I drove to the only pet store in town, and bought half a dozen mice. The weird thing, they were even labeled as “Feeder Mice”, presumably for snakes, unless the manager knew more about real life than most.
They scratched around in the cardboard box all the way home.
Mandy just bit and sucked. After the first one, I left the room. I actually felt very pleased that the whole thing revolted me. I grabbed my ‘meds’ and had them along with some Diet Coke, then got stuck into the Helsing Diaries in the safe room. After a while, Mandy appeared behind me. I stepped away in fright. “What the!”
“Easy, Red!” she grinned, holding her hands up. “I thought you could detect me with your vampire powers?”
“Obviously not.” And I stopped. “I’ve just had my meds. And I can’t feel a thing.”
“So when you’re high on meds, your spidey-sense doesn’t work?”
“And I was low on them when I went to Sedona.”
“When Alan’s mom didn’t recognize you as a Helsing.” She stepped forward. “Don’t mind me.” She literally sniffed me from head to toe, and trust me, when she passed my crotch, my mind did wander a little bit.
“I can detect you as a Helsing, but it’s certainly not as bad as before, you know, before the incident.”
I turned to her. “Can I try?”
“Sure.” She lifted her arms, and I smelled her all over.
“Nothing.” I shook my head.
“How often do you take them?”
“Every four hours.” I looked at my watch: Eleven a.m. I was due more; I had taken them at seven, when I’d gone to the coffee shop.
“What’s with the private detective?” she asked, looking through the new photographs.
“Well, last night, when I felt low on the meds, I heard a radio transmission, way out on the street. I worked out that I’d been followed. Reynolds came around this morning and gave the place a sweep for bugs, but didn’t find any.”
“Bugs? Man, are you being paranoid?”
“No, just careful.”
“I mean, I’ve always used the back door, and always parked way down the street.”
“I know. I don’t think it’s you they’re looking at. I mean, let’s face it, if a possible vampire was going steady with your daughter, wouldn’t you be a bit upset?”
“You think it’s Mary-Christine’s dad?”
“Can’t think of anyone else.”
“Shit.”
We’d spent a good few hours on the Diaries, when Mandy came across a very interesting find. I turned around to see her looking up at the light, holding two of the diary pages together. “What’ve you found?”
“The lines on the pages don’t align,” she said, moving one carefully.
“And that means?”
“That they’re probably from different notebooks.”
“Ok.”
She looked at me with a fair bit of animation. “So we collect the pages with the same line pattern, and we’ve got one diary. Then we arrange it in order, we’ve got a story. No more puzzles.”
So we spent a while sorting the notebook pages into piles, when Mandy pointed out the time. “A quarter to four, almost an hour beyond your meds.”
“I’ll turn my back, see if you can creep up on me,” I grinned, realizing how dumb a game this actually was.
Well, she never got through the d
oor. I could hear her come down the stairs, and I could hear her bare feet on the cellar carpet. I could hear each step.
“Smell me,” I said. I mean, we were like two chimps from the ‘Planet of the Apes’ movies, sniffing each other like idiots. The crazy thing was; I could smell her. I could smell the blood on her lips. I could smell her underarm odor, and I could definitely smell her crotch. Man, this was weird. Of course, Mary-Christine caught us right in the worst position.
“What the fuck is going on?”
I didn’t startle, I’d heard her approach. I just hadn’t thought of the consequences of getting caught with my head in Mandy’s crotch.
“I can smell stuff.”
“Oh, is that what you call it?”
“No, seriously, Mary-Christine.” I walked over to her. “I’m late taking my regimen.” I sniffed her hair. “Chemistry; I can smell the acid you used.” Then her mouth. “Spearmint gum.”
“Duh!” she said. “Even I could have told you that.”
“Yeah, but you used the gum to cover the smell of the pizza you had for lunch, and Peach yoghurt.”
The look on her face told me I’d hit the bull’s-eye. I walked out into the cellar proper, out of the safe room. “Mandy, come over here, tell me what you smell.”
Mandy approached, sniffing as she came.
“Before, just after my meds, she could smell a Helsing,” I said, watching her get closer. She came right up to me, sniffing all the time, and I could see the quizzical look on her face. Then she stuck her head right under my arm.
“Nothing,” she said, turning to Mary-Christine. “In fact, he actually smells very vampirey; if that’s even a word.”
Mary-Christine came over, and did the same. “I just smell you - a bit musty.”
“That’s it!” Mandy said. “That’s the vampire smell. Because we’re dead, unless I shower on a regular basis, I can get real, well, ‘ripe.’”
Then my phone went; Dave Muscat.
“Yes, sir?”
“Are you forgetting we leave at five-thirty?”
“No, sir,” I lied. “I’m almost packed, I’ll come around early, don’t worry.”
He hung up.
“Well, you better get home and get changed,” I said to Mary-Christine. “I’ll get my meds, and get packed.”
Mary-Christine left us in the cellar.
“And you’ve got to not be seen around the house.”
“Yeah,” Mandy said, with a hint of a gleam of amusement in her eyes. “I’ve got a good idea where I’ll be going this weekend.”
Spike was already in his apartment by the time I got there. He had blankets pinned up over the windows, all the lights were out, and he paced the floor, talking to himself. One look at him and I knew he’d had a hell of a time up in Utah.
When he saw me, you’d have thought I’d been a ghost. He just froze there for about a solid minute, clutching at the sides of his head and moving his mouth in some kind of silent confession.
I told him the only thing he needed to hear, “I know what you’ve been through…and it’s not your fault.”
Like a puppet with cut strings, he fell on his knees.
“What am I?”
“You’re a vampire, baby. Just like me.”
His tortured face turned into a caricature; an alarming mix of rage and awe.
“You did this to me?”
I shrugged and plopped down on the floor next to him with my back against the sofa and legs crossed out in front. Just like a kid miming his parent, Spike rearranged himself to match my posture exactly.
“You were in our way - mine and Lyman’s. I mean, I guess I should have just killed you but it seemed to me you’d be more useful this way.”
I’d kept my tone super calm; Spike did the same.
“I was more useful as a killer?”
“More like a robot. ‘Cept I didn’t do such a good job programming you.”
“And now this is just what I am?”
He seemed more confused than angry. Not that I could blame him. I mean - when Alan turned me, he’d at least given me the courtesy of telling me what the deal was. After the fact, of course, but that was how Alan worked.
I’d left Spike all alone, thinking I’d been so clever n’ all. Thinking I had it all under control. That’s the thing about vampires, though; out of control just kind of goes with the territory.
I decided I owed it to him to try and help him come to terms with what he’d become, give him the chance to decide on his own just what kind of monster he was gonna be.
“I can’t turn you back,” I told him, “but I can help you get a handle on it.”
Spike looked like a little child who’d been caught playing with himself. He wanted information, but more than that, he wanted validation; that he wasn’t some kind of freak pervert.
I told him what my mom told me the day I got caught.
“It’s a natural thing; you’re just learning about yourself…”
Okay - once I said it, I realized it didn’t really apply to this particular situation.
“Natural? There’s nothing ‘natural’ about what I did to those people.”
Suddenly I’d gone from this guy’s lover-slash-changer to his priest. I figured I’d just let him get it all out. Y’know bare his soul.
“What’d you do?”
“There were six of them,” he told me, his voice just kind of floated on a cloud of words. “I was in this little diner called Barb’s. There was this chalkboard out front that said ‘Thursday Special: Barb’s World Famous Meatloaf.’ I thought, ‘man that sounds good’ and I went inside. Just me, a couple waitresses, the cook, and a dishwasher in the back…and this little old couple sitting off in the corner. I was so hungry, Mandy - so fucking hungry I couldn’t stand it.”
Spike stopped for a second; I could tell he replayed the whole thing through his mind like a movie. Then he chuckled to himself. That kind of caught me off guard.
“I swear - all I wanted was the fucking meatloaf…”
I finished his story for him. “But soon as you smelled the humans, you went nuts.”
“The things that I did to them…and the more blood I drank, the more I wanted. And the stronger I got.” He yanked the collar of his shirt down, exposing his shoulder. “The cook came at me with a cleaver - stuck it in me right here. Look - not a fucking scratch anymore.”
“Yeah. The more you feed, the quicker you heal.”
“I was super-fucking-human, Mandy!”
Spike’s eyes were wild and filled with wonder. Guilt shed from him like a snake’s old skin. Underneath he could see the shiny new scales of vampire life. The power. The thrill. The freedom from human rules.
As he unloaded, I saw he liked the idea a little too much for my taste.
I gave him one last chance to redeem himself. “Did you stop after that?”
“For two days, I locked myself in my hotel room. The hunger had gone away and I thought I was better. But then the goddamn maid - she came to the door and asked me if I needed fresh linens.” His eyes were bright with this memory. “She was really pretty, curvy; I didn’t kill her right away.”
“Hmm. I bet she was more than accommodating, too.”
“The second I got her through the door it was like she became this wild little animal. It was the most intense, most vicious, amazing…”
I decided I really didn’t need to hear any more after that.
Spike’s head detached easily enough, despite all his “super human-ness.”
I looked down at his dead eyes, and gave his disconnected head a bit of solid advice.
“Never tell a girl you’ve slept with that another girl was the ‘most amazing’ you ever had, you prick.”
I put Spike’s remains to good use. His blood tasted thick and nourishing from his recent feeding frenzy. I figured the Helsings would never need to know about this little slip in my diet. Besides - it wasn’t like he was human anymore; I’d kind of done their work for the
m.
And since I felt all nice and strong from feeding - and the Helsings were out of my way - I figured it was as good a time as any for another road trip.
The Corporate and the Trash
From the get-go, the atmosphere in the car seemed charged at the very least. Dave said little, but he did inquire how the meds regimen was working out. Roni said less than she’d ever said before, I’m not even sure she said a dozen words until the airport. Mary-Christine was my only source of chat, and we kept it low, just under the noise of the engine.
I rechecked my meds four or five times, I had no intention of losing or forgetting them, and I also decided to err on the Helsing side, so to speak, and over-medicate myself, rather than risk falling short.
The airplane trip gave us more privacy, and although we weren’t as buzzed as on previous trips, we still were in our own world for almost three hours. I reckoned it would be the best it was going to be on this trip.
When Dave announced that instead of a family suite, he had got adjoining rooms, I wasn’t a bit surprised. I just smiled, said ‘no problem’, but the smile slid from my face as I walked into the room. I was an outcast-unclean here, too.
To my surprise, Mary-Christine followed me. “I’ve been rehearsing this speech in my head coming up the elevator, but it still doesn’t sound right,” she said. “Give mom and dad some time, consider how they feel, all that crap. But that’s what it is, Lyman!” She held me tight, looking up into my eyes. “It’s just crap. I’ve got to face things: this could be you forever; on medication, and doing fine.”
The two of us lay on my bed until the call came for dinner. Man, what a fun occasion that turned out to be; the four of us at one table. I refused a dessert just because I wanted out of the restaurant quicker. When I got into my hotel room, I locked all the doors, and tumbled into bed. If it hadn’t been for the simple fact that I decided not to, I would have cried that night. Cried for my lost life, for my lost parents, and for my lost future. I mean, there seemed no way that Unicorps would sponsor me for college now. My life felt full of uncertainty.
