Stake

by Kevin J. Anderson

  EIGHTEEN

  Lexi opened the front door only to have a badge flashed in her face. It was more startling than intimidating.

  ‘Detective Todd Carrow,’ said the man in a gruff voice. ‘Looking for Alexis Tarada with some questions.’

  She felt as if she were in a scene from some cop show. ‘That’s me.’

  She kept him standing on the porch, just as she had with the pizza delivery man. The detective was less impressive than his badge, only a few inches taller than Lexi. He wore a dark gray sport jacket, slacks, white shirt, tie. His dark brown hair was dusted with gray, and a few extra pounds rested heavily on his face and belly.

  ‘What is this about?’ With a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach, she wondered if Holly Smith had filed a complaint. She tried to keep a poker face.

  Carrow said, ‘I’m here to follow up on a tip you sent after reports of the stake murder.’

  Surprised and relieved, Lexi let him in. ‘Yes I did. Always happy to help.’ She suddenly frowned as another thought occurred to her. ‘Wait, I left my email and cell phone, not my home address. How did you find me?’

  Carrow attempted a wry smile in response to the question. ‘I’m a detective. They teach us those kind of things. I feel obligated to track down all possibilities.’

  ‘Good to hear. I always advocate keeping an open mind. Did you find any other evidence of vampires?’ She led him inside to the living room, where he took a seat on the sofa. She went to the adjacent kitchen. ‘I don’t have any coffee made. You’ll have to put up with my meager skills as a hostess.’ She could easily brew a mug for herself and the detective with the single-cup machine. Blair was sleeping late, exhausted from having gone out with his new flame Cesar every night since their first date. He was walking on air … whenever he wasn’t sleeping in.

  The detective pulled out a notebook. ‘As you might guess, we received a lot of crank calls and tips after the stake killing. I’m checking up on all of them.’

  She bristled and replied with brittle sarcasm, ‘And I was one of the crank calls?’

  ‘You did tell us to look for other vampires rather than the killer himself.’ He shrugged as if the conclusion was self-evident. ‘I looked at your website and found it … imaginative. You have a lot of followers who believe extreme stuff.’

  ‘I’m skeptical of most of it, but I won’t dismiss everything outright.’ Lexi found it hard to warm to him. ‘And yet you’re here, so maybe something rang true in my message? Did you find anything suspicious about the stake victim? Are you sure he was human?’ She knew she was going overboard, but she wanted to push him to think out of the box.

  ‘No, Miss Tarada. The victim was perfectly normal in every respect, except for the pointy piece of wood in the middle of his chest.’ Carrow flipped a page in his notebook. ‘I’m here because yesterday we found the head of a previous murder victim, Patric Ryan. Your tip to us – long before we discovered the head – was to look for garlic in the mouth.’ He leaned toward her. ‘That’s exactly what we found. How did you know about the garlic? Want to tell me why you suggested that detail? Do you know something about the two victims? What made you think the cases were connected?’

  Lexi placed her hands on her knees. ‘I didn’t say they were connected. I suggested that you check. One guy is murdered with a stake through his heart, another guy has his head cut off. It’s only natural to wonder if there’s garlic in the mouth.’

  Carrow paused with his pen and he looked at her, raising his eyebrows. ‘Natural? My instinct was to think they were gang mutilations, meant to send a message and incite fear.’

  ‘And vampires wouldn’t even occur to you,’ she replied, not making it into a question. ‘I have a unique perspective. You’ve seen my site. I think about these things every day.’ She felt her cheeks flush. ‘I sent you the list of commonly known methods for killing vampires. If there’s a severed head, of course you look for garlic in the mouth. But you probably weren’t thinking about real vampires.’

  ‘Not one of my concerns on a regular basis. It was our first severed head.’

  ‘And so you have a hard time connecting the dots. It’s the reason I called in to the tip line – and I was right, wasn’t I? You need to think about vampires more often, or you won’t solve this case. It’ll give you an entirely different perspective. And if the victims were real vampires, then the man who killed them might be a hero, not a murderer.’

  Carrow seemed taken aback. ‘A hero? You clearly didn’t see the crime scenes, Miss Tarada.’

  Lexi pressed. ‘Now that you know, maybe it’ll help you think outside the box. Did the blood analysis show anything … unusual?’ She wasn’t sure exactly what kind of test would identify a vampire by blood type, but surely there would be some anomalies. ‘Any possibility that either victim might have been a …’ It sounded silly as soon as she said it. ‘A real vampire?’

  The detective struggled to maintain his composure. ‘Don’t be ridiculous. We did standard tests, but the cause of death seemed pretty obvious. Headless victim was a drug dealer, and his blood samples showed traces of crystal meth in his system, no big surprise. Stake victim was clean, nothing unusual. We’re trying to figure out if he was connected to drugs or gangs in any way.’ He huffed. ‘To the best of our knowledge, neither was a real vampire.’

  Lexi wondered why Carrow had even come here. ‘I’m not sure standard tests would be sufficient.’ She remembered all the arguments Stoker1897 had made, trying to establish a compelling case. ‘If vampires do exist, they’ve hidden in society for quite a long time, so any differences would be very subtle.’

  ‘R-i-i-i-ght,’ said Carrow.

  Lexi persisted, even though she saw he wasn’t actually open to possibilities. ‘Have you looked into the activities of the two victims? Imagine that they might have been vampires – or at least looked like vampires to the person who killed them. I suspect that neither one had any close family. They probably worked entirely at night, were never seen during the day.’

  Carrow was clearly put off-balance by her unexpected line of reasoning. ‘Yes, on both counts. But drug dealers often have business hours after dark, and Stallings was a night-time clerk at a twenty-four-hour convenience store. I’m sure if I dug through his employment records, I could find a day shift here or there, but doing that would take a lot of hours and manpower, and for what purpose? I’m trying to find a killer, not raise suspicion about the victims.’

  ‘Unless they really were vampires,’ Lexi said. ‘The victims are what connect the killer. Why did he pick them?’

  Carrow was growing impatient with her. ‘And maybe I’ll run tests for werewolves next time I pull over a drunk driver during a full moon.’

  Lexi hardened her voice with sarcasm. ‘If it’s a werewolf, then he wouldn’t be driving during a full moon. He would be fully transformed.’

  Carrow clearly shut down. ‘Write all you want about monsters and ghosts and aliens on your website, but I’m dealing with a real murderer who’s killed two victims so far.’

  ‘Maybe more.’ Lexi reminded him of the other suspicious bodies she had found listed in the police database. ‘And you might want to have a second look at your missing-persons list. A real vampire hunter might not leave all his kills out in the open.’

  Carrow changed the subject and pressed, ‘Did you have any personal contact with Mark Stallings? Or with Patric Ryan? Were you one of Ryan’s customers?’

  ‘I don’t do drugs, though my housemate makes an excellent basil martini.’ Seeing his expression, she answered him definitively. ‘No, Detective. I never met Stallings, never purchased drugs from Ryan. I don’t have any connection to either victim. On the tip line, I was pointing out what seemed obvious to me but something I thought might not occur to you. I’m glad I did.’

  Frowning, he shifted on the sofa. ‘You’re not going to convince me that vampires are walking among us.’

  ‘I didn’t think so, but at least I raised the question. Now
it’s on you. And remember, even if you don’t want to believe in vampires, the killer certainly does.’ She rose, signaling that the interview was over. ‘Let me know how the investigation turns out. I’d be happy to post an interview with you on HideTruth.’

  He looked as if he had swallowed a pickled onion whole. ‘Don’t think so, Miss Tarada. CSPD policy.’ He rose to go. ‘I will grant you the possibility that some nut job believes in vampires and is choosing victims based on what he considers to be suspicious nocturnal activities.’ He closed his notebook and headed for the door. ‘Vampires don’t have to be real, but the killer certainly is.’

  NINETEEN

  Branches snapped and twigs whipped in his face as Lucius charged through the forest, pursuing the eleven-year-old. He carried a menacing cudgel and bashed it against a pine bough, a loud threat that rattled the branches.

  The terrified boy sprinted ahead in his wild and unplanned escape. His shoes scuffed the carpet of brown pine needles, and he slid down an embankment, catching his heels on a speckled granite boulder. The boy sprang up again and changed direction, following the terrain, choosing the path of least resistance. He had dark hair, almond eyes, and a face filled with fear.

  Lucius roared after him, ‘You know what I’ll do when I catch you, Joshua!’

  The kid ran with greater energy. When he screamed again, Lucius barked, ‘That’s a useless waste of breath. Unless you’re near people, unless you’re close to the Bastion camp, nobody can hear you scream.’

  The boy fell silent, but kept running at breakneck speed.

  Lucius bounded over a fallen tree, and when his hiking boot cracked down on a rotten limb, he stumbled, caught his balance, and ran after his quarry. Lucius kept his body toned, and his leg muscles were hardened from regular hikes. Joshua would burn out soon enough, but Lucius could keep going all day. It was only a matter of time. The energetic boy had a lot to learn about survival.

  Joshua sprinted along a dry seasonal streambed choked with rocks and deadfall.

  ‘Run and dodge!’ Lucius called. ‘If you don’t stay ahead, if you don’t get away, then you’ll die.’

  The boy came upon an overgrown hiking trail, a forgotten path that threaded through the national forest. No longer needing to fight through underbrush and boulders, he put on a burst of speed, but wasted time by repeatedly looking over his shoulder. His skin was flushed and red with exhaustion, his brown eyes wide with terror.

  He pulled ahead, but only for a moment. As soon as Lucius reached the trail, he also picked up speed. He raised his voice in a taunt. ‘The trail might look like a good idea, boy, but my stride is longer than yours.’

  Joshua kept running, but he was panting hard. He couldn’t continue at this pace for long. Lucius closed the gap within seconds. The boy glanced over his shoulder, reeling with fear.

  ‘Each time you do that, you lose half a second!’ Lucius snapped.

  Joshua plunged along the straight path, when he should have dodged into the underbrush, since his smaller form could slip among branches and trunks that might hinder a bigger man like Lucius. He would have to hammer his lessons into the children. ‘I’ve got my eyes on you. I’m fixed on you – and I won’t get distracted.’

  The kid screamed again. Lucius was growing impatient. Time to end this. He drew upon his reserves, extended his stride, and reached forward with a swift surge. He grabbed the collar of Joshua’s shirt and yanked him to a stop. The boy struggled and thrashed, but Lucius had him now.

  He raised the ominous wooden club, leaned closer to the terrified face. Pine needles and dry leaves studded Lucius’s wild hair and beard, and his eyes were fierce. He pressed his face close, curled back his lips to show imaginary fangs. ‘Boo!’

  Joshua laughed, and Lucius let him go. Heaving deep breaths, the boy sat down on a fallen log. ‘I did better this time, didn’t I?’

  ‘But I still caught you. If I were a real monster, I would’ve torn open your throat to drink your blood.’

  The boy didn’t look afraid at all. ‘You’d protect us. I know you would.’

  ‘Believe whatever you want, but never let down your guard. In the end you are responsible for your own survival.’ Lucius tossed the stick into the trees and pulled Joshua to his feet. ‘Let’s get back to the camp. Hurry, now. Mama should have the midday meal ready.’

  The boy’s expression fell. ‘Can’t we just rest for a while?’

  ‘If I hear you say anything like that again, I’ll make you run all the way back.’

  Without further complaint, Joshua straightened and walked along the trail. Lucius kept pressing him. ‘Were you paying attention as you ran? Can you find your way back?’

  The young man frowned, insulted. ‘I can always find my way back! Even if I have to spend a night or two alone out in the forest, I know how to take care of myself. I know how to build a fire, and I know how to hunt.’

  Lucius grinned. ‘Good. I don’t want to teach those lessons all over again.’

  Together, they made their way through the trees. Before long, they could hear the sounds of cooking, low conversation, an axe cutting firewood in the Bastion camp. Resplendent in her new fleece, Mama was adding noodle soup packets to a large pot over the campfire, then burning the wrappers in the coals. Several other children ran about the camp, playing or helping with chores. Their ages ranged from toddlers to Joshua, the oldest. Two young men, fourteen and fifteen, were considered adults in the eyes of the Bastion, and they had normal duties. Many of the younger ones had never been to the city, which they viewed as a scary place infested with apocalyptic dangers, not to mention the more mundane terrors of civilization.

  Mama saw Lucius and Joshua emerge from the trees and raised her spoon in greeting. ‘You’re back! How did he do?’

  The other children came running. ‘Is he dead?’

  ‘Did the monster eat him?’

  Lucius responded to the children with a grave nod. ‘He’s dead, alas, but I think some good soup will revive him.’ He tousled Joshua’s dark hair with a big hand.

  ‘I got farther than last time.’ The boy couldn’t keep the pride out of his voice.

  ‘But you’re still running wild and acting on panic,’ Lucius scolded. ‘We face many threats from the outside world, and we have to be ready for them. For instance, vampires are not wild beasts. They’re intelligent – and so are you. You have to think if you’re going to get away from them. And stop wasting time looking behind you. Look ahead!’

  All the children listened, and Joshua nodded.

  He looked at an eight-year-old girl helping Mama with the soup. ‘Tomorrow it’s Lily’s turn. This will be your first monster chase.’

  The girl’s eyes were huge. ‘Am I ready?’

  ‘You’re ready to start.’ Lucius gave her a hug.

  Mama ladled up a plastic cup of soup. Lucius stepped forward to take it, but she handed it to Joshua instead. ‘He needs the nourishment, since he’s dead and all.’ Mama gave the boy a maternal smile. He took the soup and slurped it from the edge as he shuffled off toward his family’s tent. The other children followed him, jabbering with questions.

  Watching them, Lucius felt a genuine spark of hope. Mama said, ‘You’ve made sure they’re raised right.’

  ‘I do what needs to be done. It is what it is.’ Lucius was determined that all members of the Bastion would survive whatever holocaust mankind might inflict upon itself.

  The world outside was a dangerous place with myriad threats, and his people were the only ones to see it. Like vampires, for instance. For the most part, they would remain in the cities, an easy feeding ground, but Simon Helsing’s brash activities would have raised an alarm through whatever communication network the monsters had. Some of the lampir knew about the Bastion, and sometimes vampires even ventured into the deepest forest.

  Lucius made sure his people were ready. The cost of failure was unthinkable.

  TWENTY

  The Sarka Imports warehouse was surrounded by a c
hain-link fence topped with barbed wire, like a military installation. At night, garish floodlights illuminated the premises but also intensified the shadows. Helsing knew that artificial light did not have the purifying qualities of direct sunshine and had no effect on a vampire. This one maintained his camouflage as a night security guard.

  Douglas Eldridge. Helsing had chosen him as his next target.

  Sarka Import Specialists was in a rundown, half-empty business park just off Fillmore. The Sarka warehouse kept its windows covered, its doors locked even during the daytime. Other than the name on an unobtrusive sign, the building gave no information about the company or the business conducted inside.

  Helsing knew that Sarka Imports brought in unmarked crates labeled with only code numbers or SKUs. Most of the crates originated in Eastern Europe, which in itself was a red flag, but he had plenty of other evidence. He wasn’t able to access the company’s shipping manifests, though he could imagine what sort of materials might benefit a secret society of vampires. Native soil perhaps for when they bedded down during the day? Coffins dug up from unhallowed graveyards and shipped to a new home? Maybe they just wanted their favorite pastries from Transylvania?

  He still didn’t know which legends were true and which were part of the disinformation campaign spread by vampires over the years. He had laid out superstitions and ‘common knowledge’ about vampires, some of which was obviously false. According to one tale, if a vampire was pursuing you, a wise victim could throw a broom or scatter a handful of grain in his path, and the monster would be compelled to count the strands of the broom or the number of grains. So, lampir were insufferably OCD? Helsing didn’t think so, and he wouldn’t count on that as a defense.

  Religious symbols – crosses, holy water – purportedly worked, but that may have had more to do with the core faith of a victim rather than actual supernatural powers. He had seen photos of some of his prime candidates, including Eldridge, which called into question the rumor that vampires did not show up on film. Or did a digital photo have entirely different rules? And mirrors … He had seen some of his own targets reflected in mirrors, so maybe they had a defense against that as well.