by Dan McGirt
Palin’s bus was parked outside. That drew comment. The ruins of Walmart were still smoldering despite the rain. It would take days to dig through the rubble. Chief Finch wasn’t answering questions, merely directing people to take a seat and wait.
Several tribal elders from the nearby Quixote reservation arrived. After a hushed conference with Finch, they sat stone-faced and silent at courtside.
At last, Palin entered from a side door. Her boots clacked on the floorboards as she strode to center court. She wanted to make the right impression here, so she wore camouflage tights with the Glocks slung low on her hips, her favorite vampire-fighting black t-shirt, and those gold hoop earrings she got for her birthday.
No one said a word.
Palin raised a wireless microphone. “Hello, Twinkle! It’s good to see ya all here! I got to meet some of ya earlier down at the Walmart and let me just say how sorry I am about what happened there. So many good folks that were victims of a terrible supernatural evil and my heart just goes out to the families. Yeah, it does.”
The crowd made no response.
“Anyhows, I’m sure the good folks at Walmart will build you a new store, so don’t you worry about that. What I want to talk to ya about is why all this took place and what you can do, together, to make sure nothing like this ever happens again in your little town.”
“Where is Mayor Grissom?” someone shouted.
Palin nodded. “Thank you for your question. Mayor Grissom is permanently indisposed and one of the things I should have mentioned up front is I am temporarily filling in as your mayor here.”
“Can she do that, Chief?” another Twinkler called out.
“She can,” said Finch glumly. “Just hear her out.”
Palin beamed. “Thank you, Chief. And let me say how much I admire and appreciate the good work our brave law enforcement personnel do every day. Let’s have a hand for Chief Finch and his department.”
Palin held the mike awkwardly in the crook of her elbow and clapped, the sound explosive through the speakers. After a brief hesitation, some of the townspeople joined in. The applause didn’t last long.
“Thank you,” said Palin. “Now as I was saying, the problem you have here in Twinkle has to do with the infestation of supernatural monsters such as vampires and werewolves and the like. Okay, I see by your faces some of you are shocked by my statement. And some of you, I just betcha, are only pretending to be shocked. Shame on you!”
Palin read the faces of the crowd. Some were confused, others openly skeptical. There were angry scowls here and there. A few folks looked at her like she was mentally disturbed. She gave them a moment to digest her words, to whisper and grumble and shake their heads.
“Are you for real?” called a voice from the back row.
“Yes, I am,” said Palin. “And so is the danger of the vampires and werewolves living among you!”
One of the Quixote elders stood. “Sarah Palin. I have something to say to you and the people of Twinkle.” His voice was slow and rhythmic. “Long before the white man came, all of this land that the eye can behold, from the great water of the west to the mighty snow-capped mountains of the east, was a gift from the spirits of the Earth and Sky to my people, the Quixote. In those days, the Quixote made their living by catching from the rivers and streams our brother, the Fish, who—”
“Not to rush you there, tribal elder,” said Palin, “but sunset is coming and I really need to wrap things up here.”
The elder frowned. “Sarah Palin, the strife between you and our brother, the Wolf, in the land called Alaska, is known here. But I say that between you and the Quixote there is no quarrel. What you call the ‘Wearing of the Wolf’ is to us a sacred bond between Man and Wolf. It has come to the attention of the tribal elders that some of our young men, acting with the rashness of youth, abused this sacred bond by attacking you unprovoked in the company of your enemies, whom my people call the Cool Ones.”
“That came to my attention too,” said Palin.
“Then please accept my apologies on behalf of the Quixote and our thanks for sparing their lives. They have learned a valuable lesson about not sticking their wet noses into the business of others and not getting involved in the quarrels of the white man and the pale man.”
“Apology accepted!” said Palin. “So long as the ancient treaties are respected, I’ve got no problem with what you do on your reservation. Dance naked. Open a casino. Turn into a wolf. It’s only when folks cross the line that I get that itchy trigger finger. So long as you keep your boys under control then we’ve got no beef at all!”
“Then I have said what must be said.”
The Quixote left.
“Okay then, so never mind the werewolves,” said Palin. “Let’s focus on the vampires.”
“It used to be that everyone knew what to do if you suspected that vampires might be real,” said Palin. “If you thought one might have moved into your neighborhood, you found yourself a cross and a sharp wooden stick and you took care of the problem. Sure, the authorities probably wouldn’t believe you, but citizens just stepped up without waiting for the government to come bail them out. That’s what our pioneer forefathers did! That’s what the old Hollywood used to teach us, back when the good folks at Universal and Hammer Films were sending out the right kind of message. But somewhere along the line, sadly, America lost its way when it comes to vampires.”
The Twinklers sat forward now in rapt attention. Even the most skeptical were intrigued in spite of themselves.
“Maybe it started with Count Chocula and that mathy fellow on Sesame Street. I don’t know. But somehow we got this notion of vampires being not dangerous. And that’s a dangerous notion for our nation. Because, believe me, the vampires are dangerous, no matter what the mainstream media and today’s Hollywood elite would have you to believe.”
Stella could take no more. She was sitting near the back row of bleachers with her friends from school. Now she stood and shouted, “You killed my boyfriend! You’re a horrible person!”
“Now, Stella,” said Chief Finch, “You calm down.”
“She killed Edmund, Daddy! Don’t you even care? Why are we even listening to what this crazy horrible boyfriend killer says? You should arrest her right now!”
“I can’t, sweetie,” said Finch. “I wish I could. We can talk about it later.”
“I won’t sit down!” screeched Stella. “I won’t sit down! I won’t! I won’t! I won’t!”
“Chief, I’ll just address this if I might,” said Palin. “Because it illustrates exactly the problem I’m talking about. Too many of our young girls and even grown women have made vampires out to be this romantic ideal of the perfect man. And if a bloodsucking predator or a rotting corpse is your idea of the perfect man, then sure, there ya go. But just speaking as one wife and hockey mom, I prefer a hot-blooded man over a cold stiff. And I think you do too. If ya know what I mean.” Palin winked.
“Who cares what you want?” said Stella. “You killed my boyfriend!”
“Now remind me which one was he?”
“Edmund Mullins! Don’t you even remember who you kill?”
“Not always,” said Palin. “But, as I think I mentioned previously, your Edmund there was a hundred years old, honey. You’re what? Seventeen? That is not a healthy relationship! So really, I did you a favor breaking it off. I think your father here will back me up on that.”
“Er...we’ll talk when we get home, Stella” said Chief Finch.
“I can’t believe this!” Stella burst into tears and ran from the gym.
“Moving on,” said Palin. “The reason I called this meeting is that most of the vampires in these parts answer to one called the Professor. You might know him here locally as Professor Mullins. Harmless old retired math scholar, right? No, not at all. Let’s just say me and the Professor go way back and he is not going to pass up an opportunity like I’m giving him, being here on the Twinkle peninsula. He’s called up all his little fi
ends and they’re coming for me. They’re coming here. They’re coming out of the shadows where they lurk and the holes where they hide. And why? Because I make them crazy stupid and they just can’t help themselves!”
“You’ve doomed us all!” shouted a distraught grey-haired woman.
“That’s right!” said a heavyset man. “Yeah, I knew about the vampires. We all know! But we have a sort of unspoken understanding. We don’t bother them and they mostly feed on drifters, truckers, and tourists. Now you’ve ruined everything.”
“Okay, we’re getting somewhere!” said Palin. “Now an angry vampire army of indeterminate size descending upon your isolated town may seem like a crisis, but crisis is just another word for a blessing in disguise.”
“You’re insane!”
“People keep saying that,” said Palin. “But what I’m giving you is a once in a lifetime opportunity to take back your town and no longer have to live in fear of monsters. You see the vampires only thrive where there is fear and ignorance. If you stop being afraid, if you stop ignoring them, if you all stand together, you can win! You can take back Twinkle! You can take back the night!”
“No, we can’t.”
“Yes, you can! Vampires pick off their victims one by one. They divide and conquer. But they can’t take out a whole town. Well, okay, it did happen that once in Maine, but that was years ago. Anyways, denial is no longer an option for ya. You can either knuckle under and go on being juice boxes for the undead or you can stand up for yourselves.”
“You’re asking us to go up against vampires! That’s suicide!”
“All I’m asking you to do is make a statement. My crew will handle any fighting. Unless someone has a better suggestion?”
A scowling dark-haired man dressed in jeans, a dark jacket, and old, rundown cowboy boots stood. “I have a better suggestion.” He turned to address his fellow Twinklers in the bleachers. “Palin is the problem. She’s the one who brought trouble to our town. Who poked at what ought to be left alone and upset the balance we had here.”
Nods and murmurs of agreement rippled through the gym.
“So,” continued the dark man, “the only logical thing to do is seize the outsiders and crucify them on the goalposts as a blood offering to appease the powers of the night. Then things can return to normal.”
“And you there, sir, I didn’t catch your name?” said Palin.
“Flagg. Randy Flagg. I’m the science teacher here.”
“Well, Mr. Flagg, that is a very interesting suggestion you make, but I’m gonna have to put the kibosh on it.” Palin’s hand strayed to her gun belt.
“We must seize the harlot and sacrifice her on the altar to save ourselves!” said Flagg.
“Randy, sit down and be quiet,” said Finch.
“But—”
“Now.”
“Sorry, Chief.”
“All righty,” said Palin. “I’ve said about all I have to say. As you can see, twilight has come again. So it’s time for me and my crew to go out there and face off with those vampires as best we can. Think about what I’ve said here, look into your hearts, and do what ya think is right for your town, your families, and most of all your precious children who are the next generation and bright hope for the future of this great nation of ours that we all live in. I hope to see ya outside real soon!”
Joe met Palin at courtside. “They’re here, boss,” he whispered in her ear. “Maybe a hundred.”
“My goodness!” said Palin. “That’s quite a turnout!”
Joe handed Palin her favorite AA-12 combat shotgun with a 32-round drum. “I loaded the FRAG-12’s boss. Alternated HE and the UV rounds.”
“You’re a sweetie!” said Palin. “I hope you dropped a Sparkler in.” She punched his shoulder playfully.
“Maybe,” said Joe.
“Well let’s go light it up!” said Palin. “Can’t keep the Professor waiting.”
AXEL met them outside. GOGO was on the bus. The gymnasium sat just beyond the end zone of the football field. Despite the field lights being on, an unnatural mist reduced visibility to less than three feet. Slipping on her visor, Palin saw dozens of figures darting to and fro across the field, none of them staying still long enough for a clear shot.
The vampires were getting smarter. In showdowns like this they usually liked to bunch together en masse for the intimidation effect. It looked cool, but made for easier targeting.
Of course, if you keep shooting the stupid ones, eventually only the smart ones are left, thought Palin. “We’ll engage here and give the local folks time to think things over,” she said. “If it goes like I hope, it shouldn’t take long. If not, we’ll fall back to the bus and try to draw off as many fangheads as we can.”
“What if they don’t follow us?” said Joe. “The locals are sitting ducks in there.”
“Honestly, Joe, if they’re not gonna lift a finger, I’m done with ‘em. It’s a long ball game. We can’t win every inning there, can we?”
The Professor spoke without showing himself. “It was most kind of you to assemble all of the cattle in one pen for us,” he said.
“Well, as that great American writer Mark Twain said, sometimes it’s best to put all your eggs in one basket and watch that basket!” said Palin.
“Shall we begin?”
“Ready when you are.”
The lights went out.
The argument in the gym was heated. The flash and bang of the firefight outside made Twinklers wince and hunch down in their seats. Children were crying. Grown-ups were shouting. Then the lights went out. Coach Walters found a flashlight and a box of emergency candles, which he distributed over the objections of the fire marshal.
Mr. Flagg renewed his pitch for leaving Palin and company to their fate. Chief Finch, to his own surprise, found himself championing the view that the town should take action. Despite living in Twinkle all his life he had honestly not realized there were vampires and werewolves about. He wasn’t even sure he believed in such things.
Bigfoot was another matter.
He had seen Bigfoot once, on a camping trip when he was fifteen.
But vampires? It was tough to swallow.
Yet, despite a lawman’s natural skepticism, Finch accepted Palin’s story. Lots of odd occurrences over the years made sense if what she said was true. On top of that, it seemed that many of his fellow Twinklers had known for some time. Even been working with the things, like Mayor Grissom. That was even more shocking.
Then there was the matter of his daughter dating one of them right under his nose.
I’m the worst father ever, thought Finch.
He had to admit this was the main reason he had an urge to go out there and help Governor Palin shoot vampires. But it would be a meaningless gesture unless the rest of the town joined him.
“Listen folks,” said Finch. “We can argue all night, but that’s the same as doing nothing. I say we put it to a vote right now. Majority rules and we all go along with the decision. We’ll vote by show of hands. Fair enough?”
It was agreed. Twinkle put its fate to a vote.
The field was littered with the ashes of fallen vampires. Others writhed and howled in agony as they were cooked from the inside out. A single UV grenade round contained millions of ultraviolet nanolasers that mimicked the effects of full sunlight. Palin and the Metal Storm batteries on the bus were laying them down hard. AXEL was wreaking the usual havoc with her sword and Joe had, inevitably, dropped his guns and gone for the wrench. He was somewhere around the forty-yard line, covered in reeking, steaming ick.
“Time to fall back!” said Palin. “We’ve given Twinkletown long enough to make up their ever-lovin’ minds! Fall back to—belay that! Looks like the white smoke at last!”
Chief Finch emerged from the gym. Alone.
Palin emptied the AA-12’s drum and somersaulted across the turf to reach him.
“What’s the good word, Chief? Things are a little hairy out here.”
> Finch shook his head. “The town voted to sit this out. I couldn’t stand it so I came to do what I can.”
“Well, I’m real disappointed to hear that, Chief. I had my hopes for Twinkle. But sometimes change is just too hard for folks set in their ways.”
“I know,” said Finch. “Listen, Governor, I need to go find my little girl, if you’ve got things under control here.”
“Sure thing! Can I give ya a lift home? We were just about to leave anyhows.”
“My squad car is in the parking lot,” said Finch.
“Actually, it’s that burning wreck on the roof of the field house over there,” said Palin. “Which is why I offer.”
“Then I’ll take you up on that ride, thanks.”
“Well, let me get the team together and—wait! What’s that sound?”
It was singing.
Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star, to be precise. It was coming from inside the gym.
The door opened and the townspeople streamed out, single file, holding lit candles as they sang Twinkle’s unofficial anthem. They packed the end zone.
“What is this?” said Finch, flabbergasted.
“When you walked out here alone, some folks started to feel a little sheepish,” said Coach Walters. “A few of us decided to come with you, never mind the vote. And then a few more, and a few more, until—well, it’s the whole town, Chief! We’re with you!”
“Even Flagg?”
“No, he vanished in a puff of green smoke. Darndest thing.”
The shooting stopped. The vampires pulled back, awaiting new instructions from their master.
Finch turned to Palin. “Now what?”
“Now it’s up to you,” she said. “It’s your town.”
“Vampires!” said Finch. The word felt awkward in his mouth, despite everything that had happened. “Vampires! You’re not welcome here anymore! Twinkle is our home and we want you out!”
