Vampires Don't Cry: The Collection

by Ian Hall

  I’ll never know if I actually heard the clicking of the safety on the rifle naturally, or if my vampire sense kicked in, but I took two quick vampire steps diagonally backwards. The bullet fizzled past my face, and ricocheted off down the tarmac. A second followed, but it seems I shimmied that one, too. Then I ran for cover, zigzagging as I went. I looked back to see Mary-Christine struggling in her father’s arms. She called my name, but I had so much pressure in my eardrums, I couldn’t hear much but the beating of my heart and my footsteps on the concrete. I reached the car and dived into the open back door. The smell of rubber filled the air as Reynolds floored the accelerator.

  Mandy leaned over from the front seat, scrambling for the door handle.

  “At least we know where we stand,” I wheezed as the car screeched out of the area.

  “Yeah,” Reynolds said. His hands were a blur on the wheel as he dodged cars and curbs. “There’s now two hotels we can’t go back to. Play this game any longer, we’ll have nowhere left to go.”

  Reynolds drove in silence for a while and to be honest, I actually liked the idea of just the three of us right then. No catty remarks, no female estrogen flying around us, no playing the green/jealousy card every ten minutes. It was quiet.

  “What’s the plan?”

  “I drive around a bit. Make sure we don’t have a tail.”

  “Sounds good. Mandy, look out your side for helicopters.”

  “You’re kidding, right?”

  I pulled myself upright between them. “Nope.”

  She opened her window a tad, and cocked her ear. “Shit! There is one. And it’s close.”

  We weren’t in a busy part of town, more a commercial area than residential. “Pull over.”

  I got out of the passenger side and looked up. Sure enough, a chopper circled above, confused by our sudden stop, unsure how to proceed.

  “I’ll be back in a bit.” I raced into the trees which were sparse, but enough to hide under. Right on cue, the helicopter lowered slightly. Hidden from the few cars on the road, I drew my pistol from my pocket. I walked sideways to get a better shot, then fired a whole clip at the chopper. I laughed when it took evasive action, speeding away south. I ran back to the car.

  “Take us out of the city, Frank; fifty miles or so will do; anywhere that cameras can’t follow us. Get us a small kind of budget hotel, in a small town that I can sink a few beers in the hotel room without having to kill someone.”

  Well, one night turned into two with the advent of some weird cramp that I went through in the morning. It turned my stomach upside down, then it gave me the runs so bad I thought I’d shit my life away.

  When I woke on Monday morning, I’d determined that I’d had my last day on my own meds regimen. I fished in my wallet for a card given to me a few executions ago.

  Howard Weeks. CEO Grundec Systems Analysis, Unicorps.

  It was just after eight am, Reynolds and Mandy were still fast asleep, and by all means, I should have been too, but something drove me; an urge to be right with the world, maybe. All I knew, I had to give the Helsing operation one last chance. The number on the card had a Boston area code, so I reckoned I’d have a chance to maybe get through to him before he got down to work.

  I expected a secretary.

  “Howard Weeks.”

  “Hi, Mr. Weeks, I hope you don’t mind me calling you at this time.”

  A moment of silence. “You have my direct number, so I must have given it to you.”

  “You did, sir, my name is Lyman Bracks.”

  “Good morning, Lyman, how are you?” He instantly sounded friendlier, but still cautious.

  “You said I could call.”

  “Yes, I did. Is it in reference to Saturday’s operation?”

  “Yes, sir. What do you know of it?”

  “Oh, I already have a report in front of me.”

  “Written by?”

  “David Muscat, the head of operations in Arizona.”

  I paused, not sure how to continue. “Then, Mr. Weeks, perhaps my comments are already too late.”

  Reynolds had woken, and shuffled animatedly through his bag. He made a urgent cutting motion at his neck. I hung up as he handed me another phone.

  “Call him on this.”

  “Why? What’s up?”

  “Untraceable; no GPS, military grade.”

  I dialed again. “Yes?”

  “Lyman Bracks again, sir. I just changed phones.”

  “You are being careful, I like that. Talk to me; I have an open mind.”

  “I have probably got a different take on the contents of the report.”

  “Having read David’s account of your involvement, I’m quite sure you do.”

  “I have information regarding Dave’s handling of the operation that is, slightly suspect.”

  “Give me details. Keep it short.”

  “Okay. Dave knew that Amos Blanche was still alive, now calling himself T.J. Candy. I overheard a conversation in which he admitted taking money from T.J. Candy. On the night before the execution, I removed canisters of poisonous gas from the viewing area, placed there by Amos’s sidekick. We averted a major loss of Helsing life. Mandy Cross, the vampire to be culled, was a plant by myself and Dave’s daughter, Mary-Christine. We had planted her to infiltrate the execution, to do a switch and eliminate Amos Blanche. We succeeded. Mandy Cross cut Amos down, and delivered the death blow. A couple of days ago, David Muscat had a sniper fire at me when he snatched his daughter back.”

  I stopped. I had given him enough.

  “The report says different, Lyman.”

  “Oh, I’m quite sure it does.”

  “Give me an hour, then call me back.” He sounded very matter-of-fact. “It will take time to verify your facts.”

  He hung up.

  I woke up to an empty hotel room. That part of me that’d always be suspicious of Helsings panicked that I just been ditched. Then I saw Lyman’s note propped up against my bedside lamp:

  Quick run for vitamins. BRB.

  XO,

  Lyman

  “Oh - now you’re all hugs and kisses,” I sighed at the note. If Mary-Christine had still been around it’d be “regards” or “yours truly.”

  Eh. Boys.

  I stopped in mid thought. I liked Lyman Bracks. I liked him a lot. I determined to watch out for that one.

  I made the assumption that I would be a little gamey so I dipped in for a quick shower, giggling to myself about the crowd control issue in the last hotel’s bathroom. I knew I shouldn’t have messed with Mary-Christine so hard; but she played such a pissy little princess it was hard not to. Let’s just say I didn’t mind so much that she’d gone back to Daddy Muscat – things were sure a lot quieter without her.

  Of course remembering that whole ordeal in the bathroom got me thinking about Lyman’s situation and my own experience when Alan first turned me; about three days of feeling totally crappy. Sweating a lot. Constantly running to the bathroom. Fever, chills. Just like coming down with the flu.

  Alan had explained it to me. Something about it being natural; that your vampire metabolism needs to flush out all that human junk. Your new-and-improved immune system attacks human cells like a disease and runs on hyper-drive until every last trace is gone.

  From what I could tell Lyman showed signs of the hostile takeover from within. Only it seemed to be taking a lot longer. His Helsing blood probably proved harder for the vampire cells to kill; kind of a built-in chemotherapy or something.

  I didn’t envy him. It’s not an experience I’d want to have again; sure as heck not to have it dragged out over a period of weeks.

  With that happy thought in mind, I went for a pick-me-up. Reynolds had done me a solid by scoring that blood. Every time I took a gulp of the cool, thick liquid I thought of him. I’m not so sure it was such a good thing. I mean - Reynolds equals food? Not a healthy association for when my ready supply ran out…

  But, one look in the mirror and I kne
w he didn’t have much to worry about. Still no fangs and only flimsy nubs for nails. As I stood and really looked myself over…not the Mandy I used to know. I wasn’t supposed to be aging, but the mirror on the wall told another story. Not that I looked thirty or anything grotesque like that. Just…blah…

  “What happened to you?”

  The question, asked in my own mind, startled me.

  My reflection and me had been kind of on the outs for a while now. Seemed I could no longer look at myself in the mirror without despising myself in some form or another.

  “What’s your problem?” I snapped back.

  “You sold out, Mandy Cross, turned away from your destiny,” I heard a scoff so close, I’d swear it sat right up at my shoulder. “You could’ve been great.”

  “What’re you talking about- I…we…took down Amos Freaking Blanche!”

  “Amos Blanche was a great vampire!”

  I shook my head, disbelieving the thought could have germinated in my own brain.

  “Amos Blanche was a killer…”

  “And so are you, Mandy Cross; even if you don’t want to believe it.”

  Unbidden, Miranda’s dark-painted eyes popped up in my head. Then, black ponytail. On some continuous slideshow, images of my torture played in my head. Flash: nail peeling from skin. Flash: eyes taped open, burning lights. Flash: fangs ripped from sockets…

  I closed my eyes, only serving to intensify the gruesome mental pictures. With each new flash, the anger I’d been forced to bury scratched closer to the surface.

  “That’s it…” my mind told me, “keep the hate alive, Mandy Cross.”

  Flash: cold, metal probe thrust inside me…

  The anger’s hand broke through, clutching me by the throat. A purely feral thing, a longing to un-tame me. For the most fleeting moment, I wanted it to win - to break me, to run free. It took all I had, but I threw a chain around its neck and pulled it back under.

  “You are better than this!” I shouted into the mirror, pounding my fist on the dresser and rattling the glass.

  That face just glared back at me, an expression of alarm. I smelled Helsing coming off the elevator and worked fast to set the record straight.

  I swore an oath under my breath.

  “I’ll never forget. Or forgive.”

  Sighing with relief, my reflection turned away from me and towards the opening door.

  I walked to the gas station nearby and bought another dozen vitamin packs. They didn’t do me that much good, but I squeaked by. The hour went by super-fast. By the time I’d gotten back to the hotel, Mandy had showered, and had already taken a blood pack, though she seemed off - agitated. I told her about the phone call.

  “You’ve got a heck of a faith in the company.” She sunk back on her bed, her blonde hair wet on the pillow.

  “It’s the only way I can get the regimen, Mandy. I feel like shit, and maybe that sick thing yesterday was a bad reaction to these vitamin packs. I need to get well.”

  I picked up the phone. “Well, here goes nothing.” Reynolds and Mandy got close enough to the phone to hear.

  I dialed. “Good morning, Lyman.”

  “Sir.”

  “I have verified David’s various phone conversations with T.J. Candy.”

  “Okay.”

  “David states that he removed the gas threat himself.”

  Of course he did. “Did he say where they were hidden?”

  “In the ventilation system.”

  Reynolds quickly moved away “The magnets,” he whispered.

  “Did he say what they were fixed to?”

  “Hmm. Hold on just one moment.” There was a beep beep of someone dialing. “David, The gas agent; how was it fixed in the ventilation system? Are you sure?” Pause. “Ok. Thank you. Bye. Lyman, he said he didn’t pay attention.”

  “They were fixed to magnets, Mr. Weeks. To keep them upright and stop them falling down the shafts.”

  “I have actually heard enough, Lyman. Two witnesses have already told me of Miss Cross’s involvement, and her bringing Amos down. It seems he had successfully put you and Miss Muscat out of action.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Tell me, how did you find Amos?”

  Well, that brought out the long story of Mandy finding the pattern in which the vampires operated, their building up in the country, and their subsequent closing in on a city. I told him everything. The target, Phoenix, the satellites; Winslow, Harris, and the others. He listened, and to be honest, I think he believed me.

  “I am going to ask you for a huge favor, Lyman.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I would like to meet you, and if possible, Miss Cross, also. Do you think you could do that for me?”

  “Public place only.”

  “Of course, I understand your reticence. Fooled once, et cetera.”

  “If we are harmed in any way, I have the means to ensure that the story hits the public.”

  “Oh, there is no need to resort to threats, Lyman, but I understand your sentiment. I will arrive by myself. You see, I already trust you. Is there anywhere you have in mind?”

  “Get ready to travel, Mr. Weeks, I will have a location in ten minutes.”

  “Lyman, I am already in the air.”

  I hung up. “He wants somewhere to meet.”

  Mandy slid off the bed. “And you’re just going to trust him?”

  “Look, babe, we have to have their freedom to work. We can’t fight two enemies; it’s not safe.”

  “I agree,” Reynolds nodded. “A dog has one master.”

  “And I need proper meds. I’ve went off them twice now, and it’s been a cluster-fuck both times. I want to do this, and I need a location quick.”

  “There’s touristy leaflets by the front lobby.” Reynolds headed for the door. “I’ll see if they suggest anywhere.”

  Mandy shook her head. “I still say he’s worth holding onto. His head is so level.”

  I sat on the second bed. “How are you, anyway?”

  “Oh, I’m good enough.”

  “If Reynolds finds a suitable place, will you do the vampire scout for me?”

  “You got it,” she agreed, with a gap in her smile.

  We chose Atlanta Zoo in Grant Park for the meeting, and we spent a little bit more time on preparation than for the last meeting. Reynolds circled the whole area three times, taking notes of faces, and as three o’clock approached, Mandy did two lightning sweeps, which spooked the animals and the surrounding birds, ever so slightly.

  Howard Weeks looked in his sixties, white, thinning hair, dressed in a suit, like I imagined he would be. I’m not saying that I wasn’t nervous, but our groundwork put me at more ease than I should have been.

  “Mr. Weeks.” I shook his hand.

  “Lyman. It seems that you are one extraordinary individual.”

  For some reason, I actually believed him. “You’ve travelled a long way to say more than that.”

  “Oh, yes. Is Miss Cross joining us?”

  “She’ll be along shortly.”

  “I see. I come to parley; to offer the olive branch that David Muscat should have.”

  I nodded, looking around the exhibit. Reynolds would alert me if he saw anything untoward. “I’m listening.”

  “David Muscat has been suspended from the Helsing program until further notice.”

  Mandy suddenly appeared at Weeks’s side. “I heard that.” She smiled her best.

  “Miss Cross.” Weeks held out his hand, and Mandy seemed instantly charmed. “Let me apologize immediately for the mishandling of the whole operation. The use of excessive force and torture against your ‘kind’ will not be tolerated in future. You have my word.”

  “A Helsing’s word is not usually trustworthy.” She leant forward and sniffed. “But you’re obviously not a Helsing, so therefore you know that I could have your throat open in seconds.”

  “I have no doubt as to your capabilities, my dear. I will make an offer
to you. Join my team, and you can accompany any vampire to their examination and execution; witness the new regime for yourself. I’ll even invite you to help write the new rulebook.”

  Mandy looked at the man hard. For a second I thought she would refuse. “You got a deal.”

  “Welcome aboard.” He rummaged in the outside pocket of his jacket. “For you. For expenses.” He handed Mandy a Visa card. “There will be an amount put on the account every day.” He looked at me. “One for you too, Lyman, if you’re in.”

  “What do we get, apart from a card?”

  He handed me a small package. “These tablets will be sufficient to last you until you return to Gregor.”

  Meds. Oh, boy how I needed those.

  “I take it you have met our Doctor Brennan?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Marc Brennan; he’s a GP in Unicorps, in Gregor; he treated you once at least.”

  “Ah, yes, if I ever got told his name, I forgot it.”

  “Well, you asked what you got out of the deal. You get the doctor, and all our medical facilities. We need to monitor your condition, simply because it is so rare. And you need us, because the normal medical system is just not set up to deal with your particular problem. Working in the field, you get our resources, our execution chamber, and our experience, and the freedom to operate with total autonomy.”

  I looked at Mandy. She shrugged noncommittally.

  Then I posed my next question to Weeks. “And what do you get?”

  “Oh, we get your considerable expertise, we get updates on your operation, and we get any information that you dig up in the future. If your information is correct, we need to work together, or Phoenix will be a bloodbath.”

  Lyman had just signed us on to the Helsing payroll. Sure - I’d gone along with it. And it wasn’t for the Visa card. It was the “Get-Into-Helsing-Central-Free” card that interested me.

  Miranda.

  After leaving Weeks at the zoo, we swung by a little diner so Lyman and Reynolds could grub out. Nobody really had much to say. Lyman carved huge chunks of meatloaf out at a time, shoving them into his mouth, grunting, like he hadn’t eaten in days. Reynolds just kept his head down and concentrated hard on his pasta, trying not to be a witness to the ruthless meatloaf mauling.