First Semester

by Jace Mitchell

  This was the first time Claire had seen Jack so serious. She was sort of taken back, but also proud of him.

  “So no, Sissy. Don’t you start feeling bad for those evil bloodsuckers. If one of them shows their head, put a stake through it.”

  Marissa gave a sly smile. “It wouldn’t kill them, you dolt.”

  Jack smiled back, his seriousness breaking. “Maybe you couldn’t kill ‘em like that, but I could.”

  “He’s right,” Claire agreed. “I don’t feel bad, and you can’t either, not if we’re going to make it out of this alive. They’re the enemy. Frank up there, yeah, I wouldn’t harm a hair on his green head, whether or not he’s from this world or not. Them? I’m going to hunt every last one of them down until I find the people bringing them over.”

  Marissa looked at her feet and nodded. “You’re right. They would have killed all three of us last night. There’s nothing to feel bad about.”

  “You're damn right, there isn’t,” Frank called from far ahead. He’d stopped and turned around, one hand on his hip, the other holding his empty glass. “No one better touch my hair. It looks too good. Now hurry up. We’ve got work to do. Or ye do. I’ve got beer to drink.”

  The three followed Frank around a corner and then down another hallway. Claire didn’t know exactly where they were since she hadn’t been in this part of the building much.

  They turned another corner and saw their trainer, Dr. Kilgore, standing outside of a room.

  “You aren’t to go into this room. Nothing good to see,” the trainer told them as they approached. “Go to the end of hallway. Door on the right.”

  Frank kept leading, and Claire looked at the closed door. So that’s where they have the vampire. It’s still in there.

  A chill rolled across her as they passed it, knowing how dangerous the creatures were. We stopped them, though, she thought. With a little forethought and courage, we stopped them all.

  They reached the door Kilgore directed them to and Frank opened it wide. “Ah, Remington, you’re a good lad.” The room was almost completely empty. A beer keg sat in the corner and there were five chairs against the wall, but other than that, nothing. Just white walls, Remington, and Lance.

  Frank grinned and walked over to the corner of the room where the keg was. He pumped it hard a few times and filled his glass.

  “I figured all that walking to get them would make ya thirsty, Frank,” Remington joked. “So we wanted to make sure you had reserves ready.”

  “You know me as well as I know myself.” Frank pointed to Claire. “Go on. I woke the lazies up. Tell ‘em what they need to know.”

  “Where’s Dean Pritcham?” Claire asked.

  “She’s still got the school to run. We had some new recruits coming in today to replace you three.”

  Jack raised both eyebrows. “Replace? That means we’re leaving, and if you think I won’t sue the federal government for every penny it earns each year in taxes, you’ve got the wrong person.”

  Lance smiled; it was the first time Claire had seen him do it. Remington showed a lot more personality than Lance, but Claire liked the smile. It lit his face and made him appear younger.

  “Anyone ever tell you that you’re a jackass?” Lance asked.

  Jack cracked his own grin. “Just these two every hour or so.”

  “No,” Remington said. “We’ve got no plans for you leaving. There are talks at higher levels than you three can imagine about what to do with you. The way you performed last night was amazing, and with the green munchkin back there throwing in his weight—”

  “Leprechaun,” Frank corrected casually before taking a sip of his beer.

  “Well, with him helping, you four were lethal. Lance and I didn’t do much except keep from dying. You three... Well, we knew what we were doing when we picked you and put you together. So just know that you’re important to the operation. No suing necessary.”

  Remington nodded toward Jack, and Claire understood he was giving them respect. Everyone in the room was tried and tested now according to the FBI agents.

  “Okay, let’s get on with it,” Remington said. He walked over to the keg and picked up an empty glass from the floor.

  Claire noticed his dress for the first time, seeing that he was in a t-shirt and basketball shorts. Tennis shoes too. She’d never seen him look so casual, not even last night at the fight.

  You don’t torture a vampire into giving you what you want wearing a suit and tie, she thought.

  Remington filled the glass and handed it to Lance. He grabbed a third one, filled it, and took a sip. “Sorry, kids. You may serve your country, but the drinking age is twenty-one. I don’t make the rules, I just follow ‘em.”

  Jack rolled his eyes.

  Remington continued, “We know where the cult is. We know a lot more now than we did before, thanks to our friend in the other room.”

  “How did you get it out of him?” Jack asked.

  Remington took a small sip of the beer. “Well, we tried a lot of ways, but in the end, we used light. Those damned things hate light worse than Frank hates being sober.”

  “Doubtful,” Frank disagreed, leaning against the keg.

  “With enough light, they’ll tell us whatever we want to know,” Remington continued. “The cult is three people, or this sect, at least. Two men and a woman. The leading vampire was the one you killed, Claire, although the cult treated him as someone beneath them, more or less.”

  “How did they get the vampires to do what they wanted?” Claire asked.

  “Sounds like they threatened to send them back across the Veil.”

  Frank’s eyebrows raised. “That’s possible?”

  Marissa shook her head. “The vampire wouldn’t know. It’s only going to know what it’s been threatened with. Maybe it’s possible, maybe it’s not.”

  “Told you,” Lance remarked to Remington, clearly talking about how smart she was.

  “Yeah, she’s right,” Remington commented. “It doesn’t matter right now. We’ll figure that all out later. In Boston, there are miles and miles of unused tunnels. Goes back to the fifties and sixties when politicians started all kinds of projects to get elected, but they never finished them because they ran out of budget. The cult somehow infiltrated them, and that’s where they are. We got the vampire to map it out, though we obviously can’t trust it completely.”

  He paused and took a deeper sip.

  Looks like what he’s going to tell us next is harder than what he just told us, Claire thought.

  “You three, and Frank here if he wants, have to go into those tunnels. We’re not sure if they pulled over Dracula, but the vampire thinks it’s possible. Something was supposed to happen today. You’ve got to go in there, kill Dracula, and apprehend the cult members. You can kill them if you have to, but it’s much better if you bring them out alive.”

  Remington looked at the three, his eyes deadly serious.

  Frank took a sip of his beer. “Sounds easy. Just one problem, Frank won’t be able to make it. Got a date and other stuff I need to do.”

  Claire ignored him, her eyes narrowing. “Us three? That’s all you’re sending in there? We’ve got a school with nine other kids, plus three new recruits, and whatever other power the FBI has. But it’s us three you’re sending?”

  Remington shrugged, no kindness in his eyes. “Plus Frank.”

  “That’s bullshit.” The steel in Claire’s spine was firming up again. She wasn’t scared. She just wouldn’t let her crew get slaughtered. “We’re walking into forgotten tunnels in pitch black with the undead roaming around. There’s no way we make it out. Why aren’t you all coming?”

  “Told you,” Lance said. “Stubborn as a mule. We can’t go, Claire, because we don’t know what else is there. What if we can’t see them at all? You three didn’t see what we did back in that lobby, but I didn’t see fangs until the thing was attacking me. It looked normal to me. There are myths about creatures that literally tr
ick people into seeing something that isn’t there, like a beggar, or a little child. That, combined with our inability to already identify the creatures, would surely result in our deaths. That’s why you’re here. All of you. Because you can see them.”

  Remington swirled the beer in his cup, looking down at it. “The sad fact is, we’re not like you three. We saw the vampires when our lives depended on it, but now?” He looked up. “We’re not there yet. Our brains simply can’t see them like you can. Not yet. Maybe not ever. Both of us.” He moved the cup back and forth between Lance and himself. “We both want to see. We both want to be down there with you. But all it takes, Claire, is one of us to mess up once. We see someone we think is a Myther, and we kill them? Then what? Then we’ve killed an innocent, and that can’t happen.”

  Lance took a step forward. “We want to go. Neither of us wants to let you all go down there alone. That’s not the way this works, though. It’s why the government has spent millions on this school and training you three. You’re our weapon against this invasion. You’re our first and last line of defense. Right now, Remington and I can’t fight this war. Maybe not ever.”

  Jack reached up and touched Claire’s shoulder.

  Her anger was hot, but it cooled some at her teammate’s touch. “This feels like a suicide mission.”

  “Lass.” Frank had turned back to the keg and was refilling his beer. He spoke as if he hadn’t a care in the world. “This isn’t impossible, and if you’re nice to old Frank, I’ll cancel my other plans and go down there with the three of ye. We can beat Dracula.” He turned around and leaned against the keg. “I saw him once.”

  “Bullshit,” Jack said.

  “I tell ye true.” Frank took a short sip. “The old-timers like him all live in one area, and I saw him at the market. He doesn’t look like any of those cute vampires from downstairs or the ones in that book Twilight. This man is a scary one, at least looks-wise.” He pointed a finger at Claire. “Now ye may be scared, lass, that you’ll die if ye go down there. I’m not. I took one look at that old man and knew I could square up with him anywhere. Vampires have nothing on us leprechauns. He doesn’t want any piece of Frank, that I tell ye true.”

  “You scared, Claire?” Jack asked with a hint of humor. “Going to let the creature who can’t see over the counter at the bank be braver than you?”

  “Fear’s got nothing to do with it, and you all know it. I don’t want to send you two down in there if there’s no way we’re coming out.” Claire kept her eyes on Remington. “I want to hear you say it since this is your operation. You tell us you really believe we’re getting out.”

  “I believe it.” Remington’s eyes kept a level look at Claire. “I’ve got faith in the three of you, and even the green thing behind me. No doubt about it. I’m not sending anyone to die.”

  “Green thing. You’re a bunch of colorless wannabe giants.” Frank lifted his arm into the air, showing off his skin. “I’ve got the greatest pigment out of all of us.”

  Claire took a step back and her two partners turned to her, forming a circle. “You two are in? You’re both willing to go down there and fight this thing?”

  “If we don’t,” Marissa countered. “Who will?”

  That’s the truth, Claire thought. Because the fate of this city is coming down to us three. No one else is showing up. No one else is going down into those tunnels.

  She looked down at her shoes and nodded, mainly to herself. “You’re right.” She raised her head and looked past Marissa and Jack to Remington. “Okay. We’ll do it. But I want more than stakes and garlic.”

  Remington winked at her. “I thought you’d say that.”

  “What’s this?” Claire asked.

  “This is a part of the university we don’t show to very many people,” Dr. Pritcham answered. “In fact, you’re the first people besides the FBI and me to see it. Not even the professors have been here, save one.”

  “Okay?” Claire’s eyebrows were raised as she looked at the doors in front of her. “What is it?”

  The doors weren’t like any other doors inside the university. While the rest opened and closed on hinges as you would expect house doors to do, these were sliding glass doors like you’d see at shopping centers. The glass was an opaque gray, and Claire couldn’t see anything on the other side.

  “This is where we work on more advanced items. Things that we haven’t had to use yet, but we think we might.” Dr. Pritcham held a small remote in her hand. The doors still hadn’t opened. “What you’ll see in here are a lot of prototypes. Regardless, you’re not to tell anyone of this. No one else in your class is to know about it.”

  She turned around and looked at the three students standing behind her. Frank and the FBI agents made up the rear.

  “You understand?” she asked. “The secrecy of these weapons is paramount.”

  “If you trust us to go kill Dracula,” Jack said, “then you’ll have to trust that we won’t tweet about your gadgets.”

  A faint smile pricked at Dr. Pritcham’s lips. “True enough.” She turned back around and faced the door.

  “Frank!” Claire called over her shoulder. “Keep your hands in your pockets. Don’t even think about grabbing anything that’s not yours.”

  “I’ll stun him if he tries,” Lance told them.

  Not sure if he’s kidding, Claire thought. But it would serve Frank right.

  “Ye all have the wrong idea of me.” Frank waved his hand. “I’m an upstanding citizen.”

  Dr. Pritcham pressed the button on the remote, and the opaqueness of the doors fell away as they slid open to reveal a man standing directly on the other side.

  “Hello, Dr. Pritcham.” The man’s accent was crisp and English. “I am glad you have brought me some students.”

  “This is Dr. Mitchen.” Dr. Pritcham stepped to the side, letting the three students get a look at him. “He is in charge of research and development. This is his laboratory. The people you see behind him are his engineers and technicians.”

  Claire’s eyes grew wide as she looked past Mitchen into the room. This isn’t a room, she thought. It’s a freakin’ factory.

  Rows and rows of long tables lined the floor. Some had computers on them, others workstations, and still others what Claire could only think of as “robotic engineering.” People were constantly moving through the place. Claire couldn’t count how many people were in it. Some were hunched over desks working. No one was paying attention to the group at the door.

  “Ho-lee-shit!” Jack’s eyes were as wide as Claire’s. “Why haven’t we gotten any equipment from here before now?” His voice sounded far away as if he couldn’t fully focus on what he was saying.

  Remington had the answer. “The moment we understood we were facing vampires, we got to work on weapons that could stop them. However, it took us some time to get it right.”

  “A few weeks isn’t too long if I do say so myself.” Dr. Mitchen’s voice sounded cheery. “I’m very glad to meet you three. Dr. Pritcham has told me a lot about you. I certainly hope our additions to your arsenal will help bring you home safely. I believe they will.”

  “Pleased to meet you four.” Frank stepped up beside Claire.

  Dr. Mitchen’s face grew confused, and he looked at Pritcham. “You didn’t say four, and he’s certainly an odd-looking chap, yes?”

  Dr. Pritcham smiled and glanced at Claire.

  Frank stepped forward, his fists balled. “‘An odd-looking chap?’ Is that what this Brit just said?”

  Claire reached forward and lightly touched his shoulder. She met Mitchen’s eyes. “He’s a leprechaun.”

  Mitchen stared for a moment, his eyes narrowing. Finally, he shook his head. “You’re pulling my leg, aren’t you?”

  Claire looked at Frank. “It’s up to you if you want him to see you.”

  “I could attack him, I suppose,” Frank mused, staring up at the man.

  “Attack me?” Mitchen asked.

&nbs
p; “Then you could see him,” Claire said. “He is a leprechaun, though.”

  Mitchen kept looking at Frank. “It’s amazing. I believe you, but I can’t see him. No green skin. Just an odd-looking man with a large nose.”

  “Call me odd again and I will attack ye,” Frank grumbled.

  Mitchen nodded, although Claire didn’t think he was listening to Frank much. He’s realizing he’s actually in front of a Myther, she thought. For maybe the first time.

  “Dr. Mitchen?” Remington asked. “Do you think we can get started? Sort of have a city to save.”

  “Ah, right,” Dr. Mitchen responded. He pulled his eyes away from Frank, breaking the spell that had taken hold of him. “Just so remarkable,” he commented again. He looked at the three students and clasped his hands together in front of his chest. “Right, right. Vampire hunting. Let’s go. I think you’re all going to like what I have here for you.”

  “This is like some James Bond shit,” Jack enthused as the group walked through the doorway. “What’s the guy’s name from James Bond? The one with all the gadgets?”

  “Q, I think,” Marissa answered.

  “You think he’ll get mad if I start calling him that?” Jack asked with a grin.

  “Oh, just try to pay attention,” Claire grumbled, though she thought the place around her too wondrous to feel any actual animosity.

  They made their way past multiple rows of tables, and Mitchen pointed toward the back wall. “There’s a door to the right over there that will take you to our server room.”

  “Server room?” Jack asked.

  Mitchen kept leading the way. “Precisely. We need a lot of compute power to do the things we’re doing here. We didn’t feel safe using a private company, so we built our own.”

  Claire had no idea where they were going.

  Another minute or so passed with the group winding by various tables and people. Claire stared at the things they were working on. Some looked like odd-shaped guns, others little more than circuit boards. She had a million questions but knew to ask any right now would only slow the whole procession down.