"I agree," she said. "We have to talk to the chief first thing tomorrow morning. We need to get him on our side so we can let everyone in town know what's happening, get people to be careful and protect themselves."
"I only hope he believes us" David yawned. His watch read twelve-thirty. He was wiped out.
"Someone's getting sleepy." Nia stretched her arms above her head. "I could turn in myself."
"Are you staying here? I don't want you going outdoors and driving home tonight."
"I'm staying, I only need to call Mama to check on her."
He propped himself up on the crutches and moved away from the computer to prepare for bed. Brushing his teeth while leaning on one leg was a challenge. Changing into boxer shorts and a T-shirt was another trying task.
How am I going to do anything with a twisted ankle? he thought. I'm useless.
Nia dressed in one of David's Atlanta Falcons T-shirts, the bottom of the shirt ending just above her knees.
"Mama's fine," she said. "Princess is there to keep her company, so I think she'll be okay. She doesn't like me staying over here, though"
"Laying up with that no-good Hunter boy," he said.
"If only she knew. I wouldn't dare tell her what's really happening, yet. She'd commit me"
They switched off the lights and slid underneath the bedsheets. King settled near the bed, a shadowy shape in the dark room.
They held each other, and there was nothing sexual about their touching. Both of them needed the reassuring embrace and warmth of a companion's body.
David tried to avoid dwelling on what tomorrow would bring, but he couldn't help it. Would they find Chief Jackson and win his support? What about Franklin? Would he really metamorphose into ...
He pushed the troubling thought out of his mind. He sank into sleep.
He dreamed that he lay on the bed, on top of the sheets, alone. A whispery breeze stirred the curtains; the window was open. A large black bird was perched on the windowsill, watching him. A raven.
The bird hopped off the ledge and fluttered to the floor. It strutted toward him ... and suddenly transformed into a slim, tall, dark-skinned woman, exquisitely beautiful, dressed in a flowing midnight-blue gown.
Who are you? he said.
The woman only smiled. She came to the bed. She placed her hands on his ankle. Her touch was warm. He did not want to do anything to disturb her comforting touch.
A soft, bluish glow came from her hands, the strange energy flowing like electric current into his limb. His ankle tingled.
I don't know what she's doing to me, but it feels wonderful.
After several seconds, the woman removed her hands and stepped away from the bed.
Get up and walk, David Hunter, she said. Her clear, resonant voice was like the call of a goddess. She smiled. She floated toward the window ... and metamorphosed into the raven. The bird leapt onto the window ledge, turned to look at him, and then soared into the night.
Get up and walk ...
David snapped out of the dream with a start.
Nia was asleep. King slumbered as well.
Blackness filled the bedroom. The window was not open, as it had been in the dream. It was sealed shut, and the curtains were still.
The glowing red digits on the bedside clock read 1:47.
He sighed. He had never had such a vivid dream in his life. He remembered every detail of the woman: her beauty, her cool composure ... her command.
He wriggled his toes. He felt a faint tingling sensation in his ankle, but no pain.
Heart pounding, he swung his legs to the side of the bed.
The crutches leaned against the wall, but he did not reach for them. Not yet.
Holding his breath, he slowly pushed himself off the mattress, to a standing position.
He felt no pain or weakness in his ankle.
Slowly, cold sweat slicking his face, he walked across the room. His ankle supported him as it normally would.
He had been healed.
Half dizzy with wonder, he went to the window, peeled back the curtain.
The raven stood on the branch of the maple tree near the house. The bird regarded him cooly.
Like the woman from the dream.
"Who are you?" he said. "Why are you helping me?"
He would not have been surprised if the bird opened its mouth and spoke, but it said nothing.
"Thank you," he said. "Whoever you are, thank you"
The raven uttered a soft caw, spread its wings, and flew away into the night.
It was two o'clock in the morning, and Jahlil was still hanging with the crew. They were at his house, chilling on the porch, guzzling beer and nodding to a Jacktown song.
There was something really cool about hanging out at his house, the big chief's crib, and drinking brews like they didn't give a damn who saw them. He didn't worry that his father would catch them. Dad had been gone all day-he'd gone somewhere with that woman of his-and wasn't due back until the next morning. Dad gave him the woman's cell phone number, but said to call only if it was an emergency involving Jahlil personally. The phone in the house had rung a million times with people asking where his dad had gone, and Jahlil told them he didn't know, which was the truth. After maybe the tenth such call, Jahlil stopped answering the phone. He wasn't a secretary.
Jahlil had left the door open so they could nod to the hiphop that throbbed from the stereo in the living room. T-Bone and Poke slumped in the lawn chairs, each of them clutching a can of beer, debating whether the movie they'd watched in the den -a vampire flick with some ass-kicking action had realistic black characters.
"Look," T-Bone said, raising his beer. "Ain't no niggas gonna stay around the second it comes out that vampires is killing folks. That's why I say that movie was bullshit. Our asses would've been out the door when the first dead body turned up"
Poke was shaking his head. "I hear you, T. But man, what if those motherfuckers had sucked ya mama's blood? You'd still break?"
"Hell, yeah," T-Bone said. "Shit, I'd take her stash of cash and her car and be out"
"You've already got her car," Jahlil said.
Poke laughed. T-Bone cracked a grin. "Kiss my ass, J."
"But for real, what would y'all do if some vampire motherfuckers was here?" Poke said. He spread his hands, his puffy afro a dark nimbus. "You know, we out here in the middle of nowhere, in this little, sleepy ass town, hardly no police. What would you do?"
"I told you man, I'd be out," T-Bone said. He burped. "You think the white man would be sending the National Guard up in here? Hell, naw, ain't nothing but a bunch of niggas in this joint, don't nobody give a shit about us. I'd be flying like a fuckin' bullet down 55. Y'all fools can lay up in here and get killed."
"I'd leave, too," Jahlil said. "Don't know where I'd go, though"
"You wouldn't be going nowhere, J," Poke said. "Your pops would have you right up here with him battling Dracula." Poke performed an amazingly accurate impression of Jahlil's father. "Hold that bloodsucker down, son. Got to find my stake. Where I put it? Must be back at the station. Keep him there, be back in a sec. Don't mind his teeth"
They laughed. Then T-Bone farted, and they laughed harder, Poke and Jahlil clearing off the porch to get away from the nasty smell. They stood around in the yard. T-Bone came off the veranda and joined them.
The warm night was utterly silent. The surrounding houses were dark, too.
"Sure is quiet out here," Jahlil said.
"For real," Poke said. He swigged his beer. "I don't hear no bugs or nothing."
"Please," T-Bone said. "Y'all motherfuckers done watched that movie and got scared of every damn thing." He flicked his cigarette to the grass, stubbed it out with his foot, and patted his pockets. "I got to get me some more Kools out the car. Be right back."
T-Bone ambled to the curb, where he'd parked the Oldsmobile.
Jahlil had the strangest feeling-a presentiment of dread. It tightened his stomach as if his guts were wrapp
ed in wire.
The booming of his heartbeat might have been the only noise in the still night. The music on the living room stereo seemed to be far away.
"Hurry up, man," Jahlil said. T-Bone had opened the passenger door and was sitting on the seat, digging around inside the car.
Poke must have felt something, too. He slowly retreated to the porch.
"Stop acting like a bitch," T-Bone said. He got out of the Oldsmobile, a pack of cigarettes in his hand. Leaning lazily against the car, he slid out a Kool, lit it.
"Get back to the crib, man," Poke said, nearly shouting. He stood at the door, his eyes wide and scared.
"Both of y'all trippin'," T-Bone said. He casually took a draw on the cigarette. "If you're gonna act like this every time you see a horror flick, you need to leave that shit alone."
"Just get back up here," Jahlil said. "Something doesn't feel right to me, and Poke feels it, too"
"I don't feel shit out the ordinary, but whatever," T-Bone said. He pushed away from the car, began to shuffle toward the house.
Hurry up! Jahlil wanted to scream at him.
T-Bone walked slowly, pants sagging, cigarette dangling from his lips.
A black Labrador exploded out of the bushes at the edge of the yard. Quick as a panther, it leapt onto T-Bone and knocked him to the ground.
T-Bone screamed, arms and legs flailing.
The dog was on top of him, snarling, flashing teeth tearing into his shoulder.
Jahlil ran forward a few steps, stopped, ran forward-and then stopped for good when another vicious dog ran around T-Bone's car. It was a muscular rottweiler, with red eyes, drooling lips, and teeth like glass shards.
But the woman was the most frightening of all.
When the rottweiler came, she sprang out of the boughs of the elm tree next door, landing on the ground with the agility of a wildcat. She wore a dirty hospital gown, and her face was filthy. But Jahlil knew her. Her name was Shenice, and she had won the town beauty pageant a couple of times.
There was nothing beautiful about her anymore. She looked like a monster.
Hissing, she came after him.
Jahlil scrambled inside the house. He slammed the door, locked it.
His heart pounded so hard he thought he might pass out.
Where the hell had those dogs come from, and why were they so mean? It was like they were rabid or something. And the woman ... shit. What was wrong with her?
Poke was already inside. He sucked his thumb like a baby.
"We've got to help TBone," Jahlil said. "We've got guns in here. I'll find them" He started to run down the hallway.
Poke's eyes glistened. He shook his head back and forth, his thumb stuck in his mouth.
"Get it together, man!" Jahlil said. He grabbed Poke's arms and shook him. "You better not punk out on me!"
"Get off me!" Poke pushed Jahlil away. Poke went to the door and peered out the square window.
"Too late, man," Poke said, in a stifled sob. "We're too late for T-Bone"
"What're you talking about?" Jahlil shoved him aside and looked.
T-Bone's car was parked outside. But the dogs, and the woman, were gone. And so was T-Bone.
Pearl had decided to pursue a dangerous endeavor.
Since she had spoken to David Hunter, she had considered taking this step. Each day, the malevolent force had tightened its stranglehold on Mason's Corner. People had begun to disappear. Domesticated dogs had become like crazed beasts. Her own cats, evidently having a premonition of doom, had run away into the wilderness and had not returned.
And Pearl understood that the worst was yet to come. That was why she had to take this risk. She had to do it for the welfare of the people.
She was going to covertly immerse herself in the source of the evil that threatened the town. To learn its secrets.
Outside in her backyard, under the silvery light of the moon, she sat on the cool grass. The fragrance of fresh roses scented the breeze. Folding her legs underneath her Indianstyle, she drew in a deep, invigorating breath.
Her heart hammered. The danger of seeking a doorway into the mind of another, even furtively, was that the entity could detect the invasion, penetrate her consciousness, too, also without her knowledge, and use her thoughts against her. She knew the potentially disastrous consequences. But she was prepared to sacrifice herself if doing so would save lives. To whom much is given, much is expected, her mother had taught her.
She closed her eyes. She opened her hands and rested them on her knees, palms up.
She cast her consciousness into the night as though her mind were a sieve, a vast net intended to capture only one thing ... something out there cruising the psychic atmosphere like a cold, deadly shark.
After several minutes of intense, silent concentration, she found it.
Her lips parted, and she spoke one word in an anxious whisper:
"Diallo..
That night, their army grew.
Kyle, the female valduwe, and the hounds traveled throughout the city, "recruiting," as Kyle had come to playfully consider their work.
Kyle commanded the dogs and the female to hunt together, apart from him. There was no chance that they would go astray. Diallo's life force ran deep in their souls. They could no more disobey him or his father than they could resist the urge to feed.
Alone, Kyle recruited soldiers. Moving with the stealth of a spirit, he invaded houses, preying upon man and woman alike. He sucked each person's blood to the point of deathand then he withdrew, as his father had taught him, confident that the vampire's bite would perform its powerful magic.
By dawn, he was satiated. But his hunger would return, soon. Their mission was just beginning.
Chapter 14
he next morning, Monday, David and Nia went to talk to . Chief Jackson.
David hadn't gotten much sleep. After the miraculous healing of his ankle, he had awakened Nia, and they had speculated about the identity and motive of the mysterious black woman who had appeared in his dream. Although they reached no conclusions, he was too excited and intrigued to easily sink back into sleep. He lay awake, his thoughts circling ceaselessly, and soon after sleep finally took him, it was time to wake again. They wanted to catch Chief Jackson in his office before he got bogged down in day-to-day issues.
It was Labor Day. Throughout Mason's Corner, David saw people cutting grass and firing up barbecue grills, gearing up for holiday cookouts. It made him edgy. If the residents only knew the trouble that was building, they would be hitting the highway to get the hell out of there. It made him more determined than ever to win Jackson's support.
They parked on Main Street, in front of the police station.
"He's there," Nia said, indicating a man's side profile, visible through the blinds on the front window. "Thank God."
"Let's go sell him," David said.
Inside, Chief Jackson sat behind a small desk on which were piled folders, scattered papers, and an old computer partially covered by files. A teenage boy who bore a strong resemblance to the chief sat beside Jackson's desk. Deputy Dudu, whom they had met at the hospital yesterday, was at his own desk, paging through a file.
None of the three looked happy to see David and Nia. Anxiety lined their faces. They seemed to sense that the visit heralded bad news.
Chief Jackson cleared his throat. "Morning, folks. Guess y'all ain't here paying a social call."
"We've got something critically important to tell you," David said. "I only ask that you let us tell you everything before you interrupt for questions."
The teenager began to chew on his fingernail. The deputy closed his file, leaned forward.
Chief Jackson tipped back in his chair, steepled his thick fingers on his stomach. "All right. Got my attention. Take a seat and start the telling."
David and Nia began to tell the story, beginning with the appearance of the Frenchman, Kyle's assistant, who asked two men to help him dig on the Mason property. David spared only the d
etails of his personal investigation into his father's life, as he was still unsure how his father was connected with what was happening. They spilled everything else to their audience, including their conclusion that they were dealing with vampires. There was no point whatsoever in hiding the truth.
Chief Jackson remained silent throughout their speech. At various points, he idly examined his nails or looked out the window. The teenager and the deputy, however, were captivated.
"That everything?" Jackson said. His face was unreadable.
"Yes, sir," Nia said. "That's what has been going on here. It explains the disappearances, the attack at the hospital. Everything."
"Got that Bible with you that figures in the tale?" Jackson asked.
"I sure do" David pulled the Bible out of his duffel bag and slid it across the desk.
The chief slowly flipped through pages, humming a song. Then he closed the book. He took a sip of coffee, frowned as if not liking the taste.
"Well?" David said, putting the Bible back into the bag. "Do you believe us?"
"I got a lot of respect for the Hunter family," Jackson said. He nodded at Nia. "The James folks, too. But y'all are way off base on this. I ain't never heard so much foolishness in my life."
"We aren't lying," Nia said. Veins stood out on her neck. "Didn't you hear us tell you what happened at the hospital, how Doc Bennett was bitten by that girl? How she went into a frenzy?"
"Girl was sick." Jackson shrugged. "Folks act up when they get sick."
"Even if it's just a sickness, and it isn't," Nia said, "you should call a town meeting, pass out flyers, get volunteers to go door-to-door, warn people. This isn't going to go away, it's only going to get worse"
"Ain't a good idea to get folks all riled up 'cause a girl got sick," Jackson said.
"Doc Bennett can back up everything we've told you," Nia said. "He's in the hospital right now. Call him."
"You said Doc Bennett was sick," Jackson said. "Don't wanna disturb a sick old guy to ask him about some nonsense, he needs his rest"
Nia swore under her breath.
David spread his hands on the desk. "Chief, be straight with us. Do you think we've made up all of this?"
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