A Vampyre's Daughter

by Jeff Schanz

  He dug a pit in the sand with his hands, ringed it with smaller rocks, put a few rocks below to support the wood and allow air to flow, then snapped some driftwood into smaller pieces and layered them on top of twigs and dried seaweed. A few pieces of seaweed were soaked in the watery gas and surprisingly the fuel had enough potency to hold the flame from the Zippo. Those were placed on the very bottom which lit the whole pile. The fire burned better than he’d hoped and settled into a comfortable, steady blaze. He made a crude spit for the meat from some straight-ish sticks and old knotted fishing line that would be good for little else. Then he wrapped the fish in seaweed for flavor and stuck them over the fire. It didn’t take long before the fish was in his mouth.

  The meal was devoured quickly, barely giving him time to notice that it actually tasted pretty good. He was a much better makeshift cook than he gave himself credit for. Getting fresh water would be the next priority since the salty fish reminded him he was thirsty. But he could survive without until tomorrow when he could take water from Lia's reservoir. Or he could do something complicated like build an evaporation catcher, heat up saltwater, and catch the freshwater runoff like a still. But that could wait to be debated tomorrow.

  The fish meal done, the fire still blazing, and a rock-free area of the softer sand for a bed, with the dilapidated sails folded on top, and Brandt was almost settled. Unfortunately, he wasn’t even close to being able to sleep. He wanted to make himself rest, but he was equally worried that the circus of crazy thoughts in his head would keep him up and drive him crazy. More distractions would be necessary to get him so tired he'd fall asleep immediately. Further exploration of the cave seemed to be the best choice.

  A nasty rag was wrapped around one end of a stick, soaked in gas, and lit on fire, which allowed enough light to scan the back of the cavern. The cavern was about the size of a hotel dining hall, and for the most part, had a flat back wall. On the right side, it looked like the wall had collapsed with numerous rocks and boulders stacked around. There was a dark area on the other side of the biggest boulder, so he went over to check it out. As he rounded the edge of the boulder, he found that his light didn't illuminate the remainder of the wall. It stayed dark, indicating a recess. He walked toward it and found that the recess bent back left, behind the wall. As he got closer, the dark patch became smaller but didn't go away.

  There’s some kind of tunnel here. It looked too small to be the mythical tunnel under the island he had hoped for. And whatever this was, it was leading up, not under the island. He started to climb carefully. The tunnel was narrow, yet large enough for him so far. As he crested the steep incline, he noticed some light up ahead that wasn’t from his torch. It had to be open air. He climbed over another large ledge and lifted his torch. He could see the night sky above.

  Son of a bitch. The collapsed area was some kind of old sinkhole, not a tunnel.

  So it didn’t lead under the island, but it was at least a way to get back up to the surface. From the last two ledges, an easy foot placement and push and he’d be back on the island’s top surface. But that’s not where he wanted to be at the moment. He climbed back down.

  The torch was doused and he sat back down on his pallet of old sails and sand. His excursion up the tunnel had worn away the last vestiges of restlessness. His newly made bed called to him and his aching ribs and ankles agreed. Even as haphazard as the bedding was, it was still better than what he had suffered through on the Pakistan border.

  For a brief moment, another of Brandt’s memories that had been stored and locked away in his mental strongbox, came to the surface. Hostile men with automatic weapons. Brandt was strung up on a wooden frame, beaten and bloody. His squad-mate was strung up next to him. One of the hostiles came in with a long blade, like a sword. The man’s face was wrapped in a black cloth. All Brandt could see was the man’s eyes and the tops of his cheeks. Two mongrels paced at his heels. They growled in feral hunger. The man’s eyes squinted and his cheeks pinched up in a sinister smile as he held the wrist of Brandt’s comrade. The man pulled the blade back. Then he swung.

  Brandt shook away the memory and buried it again. He needed rest and would take a fresh look at things in the morning.

  Settled into his castaway’s bed, he propped himself on his arms for a while, staring at the water that lapped over the shoal, trying to determine the tidal height. The point of the shore where he had made his bed looked safe enough. A line of washed-up debris marked the height of the tide, which did not reach him. The moonlight still played against the cavern walls and ceiling like a broken disco ball. It was both a calming and intriguing show, lulling him into a kind of eyes-half-closed daze. He knew his tempestuous mental dialogue would start up again soon and he wouldn’t be able to repress it in that state. That was expected and it was ok. He had lived with disturbing thoughts for a while now, and if he had to, he could live with more.

  As he wound down and became drowsy, the shackles on his mental faculties came off.

  There just are no such things as vampires. Just because Lia thinks she is, it doesn’t mean she is. It doesn’t make any real sense.

  Ok, so let’s ration this out. She has retractable fangs like a serpent. So what does that mean? Some rare condition or scientific anomaly? But some strange condition that allows a human to grow fangs doesn’t explain how her father flies.

  You don’t know for certain that there is a father, or that he flies. We only have Lia’s word for both.

  Then how did you get to the house from the ocean? You weren’t dreaming it. You flew.

  Brandt was getting twisted up in different directions. His semi-conscious mind wasn’t keeping a clear focus on one mystery at a time. Whose coffin was in the basement? Hers or her father’s? Maybe there was another coffin he didn’t see.

  The family that eats together, sleeps together.

  Cut the jokes.

  Brandt knew he had a defense mechanism of cracking jokes in serious situations. Facing danger with laughter. It was both a strength and an annoyance. An annoyance to most every one of his girlfriends, to be sure.

  Facing danger? Am I in danger?

  Brandt’s memory switched back to a few hours ago when he held a beautiful woman in his arms. Or what he thought was a beautiful woman. He wanted her. She wanted him. All he could think about was how good it was to kiss her, how good it felt to hold her. The only thing he was in danger of then was maybe falling in love. And then… everything changed.

  He thought it had changed. He wasn’t even sure of that. But she had changed. New information can alter everything you believe as quick as a finger snap. Now he needed to decide what to do about it.

  Brandt’s brain was running redline hot, and his eyes, that were begging to be closed, finally got their wish. He allowed himself to shut down, and with the fire’s warmth, he was comfortable enough to sleep.

  Something woke him.

  Years ago Brandt had trained his mind to keep a small percentage of its processes open for interpreting disturbances in his surroundings while he slept. When you are hiding in the hills of hostile territory and the enemy not only wants to kill you but wants to torture, maim, and disembowel you before they behead you, and you can't stay awake forever, you learn how to adjust your sleep patterns to be aware of subtle changes in your environment, while still managing to sleep. What it all meant is that Brandt detected that something was off and it caused him to wake up. It could've been that the sounds of a dying fire had sudden new life. It could've been the change in temperature from cool to warm. It could've been something unknown touching him. It could have been any of these things because when he woke up, all of that had happened. The fire had been rekindled and a blanket had been draped over him. His initial reaction was to assume he had managed to pull a blanket over himself, but almost immediately he recalled that he had no blanket when he went to sleep. He sat up quickly and scanned the cavern.

  He saw someone moving away from him in the dark
corner. Before he could think, in his Army Sergeant’s voice he shouted, “Stop!”

  The person halted mid-step and slowly straightened up. When she turned, Brandt saw it was Lia.

  Brandt’s mind was foggy, defensive, and frazzled. There were so many things he wanted to say. So many different questions to ask. But he just wasn’t ready to talk to this woman. Person. Thing.

  Yet here she was, nonetheless.

  His mind struggled to find anything adequate to utter. He was feeling violated for being spied on while he slept and brusque words tumbled out. “Look, I don’t know what you really are, but I need you to stay away right now.”

  She faced him and drew herself up in a proud posture. A moment ago she had looked nervous and shaken. Now she looked royal and indignant.

  “What I am?” She inhaled deeply and seemed to grow even taller. “I am not a thing. I am someone with an affliction. But I won’t bother you with details you aren’t interested in. Think of me however you like. Then we’ll see who is a monster and who is not.”

  Brandt's mind was still shy of full lucidity from his sudden termination of sleep. It was racing feverishly and took in what she said, barely recognizing that he was being insulted and challenged. He also barely registered the phrase “affliction.” He glanced around to see if there was anyone besides Lia in the cavern. Like her father? But he saw no one else.

  Lia took a slow step forward with a regal carriage. She crossed her hands in front of her waist. “And I have no intention of invading your privacy any further. I only wanted to bring you a few things that might make your – stay in this cave more comfortable. Despite what you think of me, I simply want to help.” She made a subtle wave of her wrist toward the ground in Brandt’s direction.

  Brandt glanced to his right. There was a basket placed on the sand next to him. It was stacked with numerous household items, topped by several vegetables. Next to that was a ceramic jug plugged with cork. And at his feet was the wadded blanket that had fallen when he had stood up.

  She had put a blanket on him while he slept, had set down the basket and jug as well, and had been leaving when he woke. It wasn’t the only explanation, but it was the one that looked the most likely.

  Did she do anything else? Was that all she came here for?

  Unconsciously, he reached for his neck and probed his skin with his fingers looking for anything out of place… Like bite marks, maybe? He found nothing.

  Lia noticed the gesture. Of course, he could’ve been rubbing away some bug bite, but in both their states, he didn’t think that excuse would fly. He dropped his hand and tried not to look guilty.

  Lia gave him an impatient look and sighed. “Well, are you just going to keep blundering through misinformed assumptions, or are we going to have a legitimate conversation?”

  He swallowed, and then found his voice. “Ok, then. To be clear, you really are a – a vampire?”

  She looked both frustrated and disappointed. “It is more complicated than that. But, yes.”

  Brandt didn’t know of a good way to accept or acknowledge when someone tells you they are a vampire. He opened his mouth to comment but nothing came to mind.

  She really is? Somewhere in his mind, there was hope that she was somehow misguided. She could have a condition that seemed like it and that made her think she was a vampire. But Lia’s answer was clear and assured. She was neither mistaken nor confused. She knew exactly who and what she was.

  Lia sighed again and took another slow step forward.

  Brandt held out his hand in the universal stop gesture. He was feeling numb. This woman that he had held in his arms, kissed, and wanted to make love to – was a member of the undead.

  Lia had not been able to hide her emotions to this point and her expression now was one of mild contempt. She didn’t look like she intended to hurt him, but she did not look friendly. She took another step forward, smaller this time. Brandt jabbed at the air between them with his open palm, shaking his head and taking a step in the opposite direction.

  She grimaced and narrowed her eyes. “You are being rude. I assure you, neither myself nor my father have any intention of ever harming you. If I did, I would have done so long ago while you were sleeping in our house for hours at a time.” Her brows went up to intimate the unspoken phrase, “so, there.” She shifted her weight and scanned the cavern for a moment before speaking again. “I assume you wish to leave this island as soon as possible and we will be glad to assist in any way we can. However, since this boat is not seaworthy, and you are stuck here, so to speak, it would be wise to come to terms with the situation and do the best you can to understand us. Avoiding or hiding from us is not going to gain you anything.” She cocked her head and lifted a brow to query if there were any argument or agreement.

  Brandt said nothing, not sure what to say in either case. His brain was struggling to catch up and was not quite there. He lowered his eyes and head slightly. It was nothing more than a reaction to his own deep thinking, but Lia took it as assent.

  Her hand waved at the box that blocked her path. It was a crate from the wrecked boat that held a few items he had been examining. “May I sit?”

  Brandt looked at the crate she was referring to. Then he looked at the basket she brought. Then at the blanket in the ground. The jug. Then Lia.

  He nodded. “Ok.”

  He wasn’t sure if inviting a vampire to sit down on a crate in a cavern constituted the infamous invitation of a vampire into your home. He hoped not. But he somehow doubted that old story myths would apply to a real-life vampire. Of course, up to this moment, he doubted that vampires existed anywhere besides stories.

  “Thank you,” she said. Lia whisked her dress forward and sat primly as she had done at his bedside not so long ago. She folded her hands in her lap and looked at him expectantly. “I didn’t want to impose on your time or privacy, and if all you’d like me to do is leave, I shall honor your wishes. But since you are awake and I am here, I will be glad to answer any questions you may have.” Her tone was dry and begrudgingly pleasant. “I assume you have questions?”

  CHAPTER 9

  Do I have questions? Of course, he had questions. Ridiculous questions. Insane questions. Lots of them. And yet, what came out of his mouth was…

  “Uh,” he mumbled numbly.

  Lia sighed. “Perhaps I should summarize?”

  Brandt nodded slowly.

  Lia closed her eyes for a moment, gathering her calm. “It is not what you think. It is a complicated affliction and requires a lengthy explanation. But to start with the basics, there are two different types of vampires, as are both my father and myself. He is undead, I am not.”

  Brandt stared at her while she spoke. He was still having a hard time believing that the sensuous mouth he was kissing just a few hours ago drank blood.

  She hasn’t said that. Stop being an idiot. Ask her. And listen. She wants to tell you. She’s not going to hurt you.

  Brandt was finally regaining his composure. The last image in Brandt’s mind was embracing her near the cliff and her fangs coming out. Brandt said, “Before, when we were – together – when your fangs came out, were you about to bite my neck?”

  Only a moment ago she sat in front of him looking indignant and daring him to ask her whatever he wished, now she suddenly looked horrified. It resembled that same expression she had when he first saw her fangs.

  She drew her hands up to her face, only making it as far as her chin. “No! Absolutely not! I would never do that. Ever!”

  Why was his question such a shock to her? She assumed he had preconceived notions about vampires, yet she was aghast that those notions would suggest that she might try to bite someone? She shivered and closed her eyes.

  In a much smaller and softer voice, she said, “You really do think I’m a monster.” She rubbed her neck with her hands and seemed to regain her courage. “I do not feed from humans. I refuse. I have not had human blood in ma
ny, many years, and I don’t intend to ever again. Everything I need is here. I feed from the animals. My chickens, goats, and sheep. It doesn’t harm them and I maintain my dignity.” She forced back her sniffling and said, almost inaudibly, “I don’t want to hurt anyone. Ever again.”

  Brandt heard her every word, even the soft ones, but wasn’t sure what he should believe. Wouldn’t a vampire try to deceive him? Wouldn’t they try to gain his confidence and then lure him into – whatever it was they wanted to do to him?

  You are being such a paranoid moron. Look at her! That is the same woman you wanted to sleep with just a little while ago. Shy, sweet, awkward Lia. She’s confiding in you, and you’re worried she’s going to try to suck your blood? You’ve spilled a lot of blood, you know. And killed a lot of people. Maybe she’s the one who should be afraid of you.

  Brandt must’ve had a strained look on his face while his inner voice chastised him because when he refocused on Lia, she looked worried that he may not have accepted what she just said.

  It’s just Lia. Not a monster. Just Lia. Talk to her.

  Brandt lifted his fingers in an appeasing gesture. He nodded slowly, “Alright. I’ll believe you.” That “I’ll” came across more unconvincing than he intended, so he hastily corrected, “Do believe you.”

  Lia’s face slowly went from cold pale to warm neutral. The corners of her mouth twitched in anticipation of a smile, which she had resolve enough to pin back down. She wasn’t going to flip back to her usual sweetness that easily, Brandt guessed. And he wasn’t certain that was what he desired, anyway. But sitting across from her, seeing her beautiful face glow with the hint of happiness over something as simple as his belief in her words, made him doubt his own resolve. As he stared into her extraordinary eyes, it made him wonder what it was that he was actually trying to accomplish by staying away from her.