by Drew Hayes
But that feeling was nothing compared to the wave of nerves that washed over me when I imagined an entire clan of vampires, all of them Quinn in my head, discussing exactly how to deal with a vampire already operating on their turf.
4.
By the time we’d composed ourselves and made it downstairs, the others were already waiting, so we cut a quick pace to the diner. Though I asked, and everyone agreed it had once had a more formal name, the moniker had been lost somewhere in the sands of time. For as long as anyone could remember, it was just “the diner,” and when we arrived, I found those simple words written at the top of the laminated menus. With the yellow-painted walls and over-stuffed red booths, it could have easily fit in off any highway exit in America, save for the staff and clientele.
Since arriving at the sheriff’s office, I’d somewhat forgotten the spectacle of driving down Sunshine Lane and seeing all the different parahumans out and about. But the realization of just how far out of normal bounds we were came rushing back the moment our waitress slithered over to us. That was not creative language, by the way. Our waitress, Yenny (as she introduced herself), was a fairly normal-looking woman with brown hair and eyes a pale shade of orange. She wore a yellow shirt with white trim that matched the restaurant’s walls, and nothing else. I don’t mean to imply anything lude, it’s simply that Yenny’s bottom half was that of a bright orange snake’s tail.
Mercifully, I wasn’t the only one who was a bit surprised, as Neil wouldn’t quit staring and Albert dropped his menu to the floor as soon as he saw her. Yenny took it surprisingly well, glossing over their shock with warm greetings, and then getting down to the business of what we’d be eating.
Ordering was a quick affair. Leeroy declared that the chicken fried steak was the best thing to be had, and he was seconded by Krystal, Nax, and Sable. With no point of reference for anything else, and a keen eye that noticed some of the menu items were clearly designed for parahumans rather than mundane palettes (unless raw sparrow eggs and powdered coal were delicacies I’d somehow missed), it made sense to trust the group consensus.
In spite of the heavy burden weighing on my mind, dinner was an enjoyable affair. Periodically, new parahumans would get up from their seats or walk in, which gave us peeks at the creatures we’d never laid eyes on before. Leeroy entertained the whole table with stories of the town’s history and the various incidents he’d been called on to help with over the years. I’d never considered the possibility that a troll could hibernate, grow, and end up stuck under a bridge, but as Leeroy recounted having to borrow farm equipment to get the fellow unstuck, it seemed like the most natural thing in the world. Even Arch chuckled a few times, when he wasn’t outside taking his cigarettes.
I would also be remiss if I glossed over the food, which was incredible. Chicken fried steak was hardly a new cuisine for me—nor most anyone, I’d imagine—but sometimes the simplest dishes are the best when every element is handled perfectly. From the first bite of spiced meat, crisp crust, and decadent gravy, I understood why Leeroy had insisted we not miss this special. I would have bitten through a hundred dirty tires for a meal like that, and once again, I was grateful I had retained my taste buds despite being undead.
The experience as a whole was oddly serene, at least for me. Ever since reconnecting with Krystal at our high school reunion, I’d been drawn progressively deeper and deeper into the parahuman world. And while many of those experiences helped me meet important people in my life, they also all tended to be fraught with chaos, if not outright peril. So somewhere in my brain, I suppose I had made the connection that the more parahumans one was around, the more hectic and dangerous things would be. But here we were, eating chicken fried steak an hour before dawn, in a town filled almost exclusively with other parahumans, and it was one of the more peaceful moments of my last few years. It didn’t even feel like we were all vampires and zombies and other inhuman species. It just felt like sitting around with a bunch of friends.
By the time the food was eaten and we were heading back to the inn to beat the sun, I’d begun to consider the possibility that living in Boarback could have its merits. True, one meal did not a happy life make, but I’d promised to keep an open mind, and it was hard to deny that the town did have a charm all its own. I was so lost in thought, and in observation of the people walking up and down Sunshine Lane, that I didn’t even hear Arch speak. Krystal nudged me in the ribs, and I turned to find the vertically challenged agent staring at me, clearly waiting for a response.
“Sorry, what was that?”
Arch didn’t roll his eyes, yet somehow, he still gave off the same feeling as if he had. “I was letting you know that I’m going to be borrowing Albert and Sable for a training session while those who need it grab a nap. Since you don’t need sleep, I offered to let you come along and watch. Though, at the moment, I’m rethinking the wisdom of that decision.”
“I’d love to, but . . .” I glanced up at the sky, which was already growing gray as the stars faded, declaring retreat against the overwhelming forces of daytime.
“This place is underground,” Arch assured me. “Sunlight restrictions aside, it’s more prudent to have a training facility away from prying eyes. Despite how Mayberry this place might look, it was founded as a sanctuary, and nobody knows the importance of a place to hide like parahumans.”
Arch’s reference to Mayberry caught me off guard, although it shouldn’t have. I often forgot that though he looked comparable in age to Neil and Albert, he’d been alive for at least a century, or so I guessed from what I’d gotten through context. He never discussed his exact age, and I made a point not to pry where agents were concerned.
“I like to think of it more as a place to shelter while problems are handled,” Leeroy added. “But it works just fine for sparring grounds and a gym these days.”
After a moment’s consideration, I nodded. “Sure, I’ll tag along. I’d like to see as much of Boarback as possible. That’s what I’m here for.” I gave Krystal a quick kiss, which she used as an opportunity to show approval of my choice by squeezing my, um, rear, and then bid farewell as she and Neil began heading up to the Bristle Inn.
“I’ll show you all down there.” Leeroy headed toward the police station, while I marveled at the fact that he hadn’t said “y’all,” despite the rustic surroundings. The sheriff of Boarback might live here, but he definitely didn’t hail from this region of the world. Then again, with how long some parahumans lived, it was entirely possible that the place he’d called home didn’t exist anymore. Countries fell all the time, back in the older days of history.
Nax walked with us to the station, then peeled off as he proclaimed that “someone had to be on duty,” and that, by process of elimination, that was him. Duty didn’t seem that bad, though, as he immediately went to his desk in the middle of the room and kicked up his feet, eyes on the old television in the corner.
We were taken through one of the doors near the back of the station, which led to a staircase. This wasn’t a small set that took us a basement, however. These were slick, worn, and went on for so long that not even I could see the bottom, which was not a common occurrence. All us of proceeded down, Leeroy in the lead, followed by Sable, then Albert, then me, with Arch bringing up the rear. While some neurotic part of me wondered if he was taking the back position in case we were threatened from behind, the more logical part of me had a hunch that it was because these steps were a little slippery, and if anyone went tumbling, they’d take his smaller frame down with them.
It was impossible to gauge how far down we’d gone by the time we reached the bottom. I only knew that I wasn’t too worried about stray beams of sunlight getting in anymore. Leeroy yanked a lever near the bottom of the stairs, and a new set of bulbs flickered on, hung at irregular intervals through the rough corridors sprawled out before us. They seemed to twist and turn in all directions, but Leeroy didn’t hesitate as he continued on, taking us through one turn after another unt
il we arrived at our destination.
The cavern was vast—by underground measures, at any rate. It was roughly half the size of a football field, with a domed ceiling that rose twenty feet in the air. A small rack of weaponry—swords and maces and the like—was set up at the end furthest from the entrance. Halfway between the rack and the way in were what looked an awful lot like benches etched into the very stone of the cavern.
“No way this is natural.” I didn’t mean to say the words out loud, but the sound of Leeroy’s chuckle informed me of my slip-up.
“You hit the nail on the head,” he said, grabbing me by the shoulder and leading me over to the benches while Arch took Albert and Sable toward the middle of the cavern. “Artificially carved, save for a few of the tunnels near the entrances that were used as a starting point.”
“Was this made for the town?”
Leeroy gave his large head a mighty shake. “Other way around. Part of why we picked this spot was because these tunnels were here. They were originally home to . . . well, maybe you’re happier not knowing. Something that had to be rooted out. Anyway, the Agency doesn’t forget about useful assets, especially when all they need is a few light bulbs and minor remodeling to be made livable.”
“Prudent, and cost-efficient,” I noted.
“Doesn’t matter where you go in the world, governments are always looking to pinch their pennies as hard as possible,” Leeroy said. We arrived at the stone bench and took our seats while Arch continued instructing Albert and Sable. I didn’t entirely grasp what he was telling them; all I could discern was that he kept moving their arms and legs to slightly different angles than where they’d been. My best guess was that this was some sort of stance advice, though I confess that even that assumption was predicated on watching a cornucopia of action movies.
“This will be interesting.” Leeroy was watching the same spectacle I was, but he didn’t seem nearly as befuddled by what was going on. “Not even I’ve gotten to watch a sparring match between weapons of destiny in a long while. They always put on a good show.”
I was going to ask what he meant, but before the words could form in my mouth, Arch had backed up and the match had commenced. After that moment, the question was no longer necessary. I understood exactly what made their tussle interesting.
5.
Neither Albert nor Sable were attempting to injure the other. Their movements were slow and deliberate. This seemed to be about control more than anything else, as their respective weapons would draw near to the other’s flesh without ever touching it. The sword and axe did clash, however, as each used their respective tool to block the incoming strikes. It was those moments that made this different from any battle I’d ever seen, in cinema or reality.
When the blades of two weapons of destiny collided, they sent ripples out through the world. I realize that sounds as though I’m saying there were flashes of light and waves of sound, which there were, but please understand that there was also something more. At every clash, the very world around them seemed to warp and distort. It was for less than a second, and if not for my vampire eyes, I doubt I would have even seen it. Yet it was undeniably there. Like stones across a lake, these two weapons would ripple through everything around them as they made contact.
“As much as I would like to trust Arch not to put anyone in danger . . . is that safe?”
“Safe is a relative term in our world,” Leeroy replied. “If you mean, ‘are they guaranteed that nothing will go wrong,’ then the answer is no. One of them could slip and lop the other’s head off, or they could cause a tear that turns them into slugs. Neither is likely, mind you, just possible. But if you mean, ‘is this safer than them never having the experience until they fight an unfriendly weapon and get caught off guard,’ then I’d have to say yes. Education is always safer than ignorance.”
He had me there, although I did scoot further back in my seat at the word “slug.” We sat in silence for some while after that, watching his deputy and my assistant trade blows, halted occasionally by Arch scurrying in and moving someone’s foot or elbow. It was strange to see Albert wielding a blade, all the more so because he actually seemed competent with it. If there was anyone less inclined to violence in the world than me, it was Albert. His avoidance wasn’t from cowardice, however. The young man just genuinely seemed too soft-hearted to hurt anyone. I’d only seen him swing that sword one time with intent, and it was when Neil’s life was on the line.
“Krystal tells me you two might be hunting for a house around here soon.” I started at the voice, having grown so engrossed in the fight that I forgot Leeroy was sitting next to me. His eyes had turned away from the match. Now, they were taking me in with careful observation, which made my slight jump all the more embarrassing.
“It’s in discussion,” I told him. “She clearly loves it here, and my current home may not be as safe as it once was. Plus, your town does seem quite idyllic.”
“Don’t let her rose-colored glasses fool you. We get our share of problems same as anyone else,” Leeroy replied. “The Agency likes to dump the more problematic potential recruits here for training. Sometimes it works out fine, like with Krystal and Nax, but not every parahuman with power and attitude problems ends up on the straight and narrow. I’ve got two deputies for a reason.”
“Still seems safer than a town where hostile, territorial vampires are moving in.” I hadn’t actually intended to spill my problems to the sheriff, but if Krystal had told him that we might be moving, it seemed a fair bet she’d also let him know why. Since he didn’t seem at all surprised by my statement, my hunch appeared to be right on the money.
“That does look a little worrying,” Leeroy agreed. “But let me ask you this, Fred. As a businessman, if you were to move to Boarback, what is one of the very first things you’d do?”
While there was a laundry list of answers to that question, it was clear Leeroy was angling for something specific. I took my time, thinking through every step in moving my business, and almost immediately, I realized what he was trying to say. “I’d look into any other accounting firms in Boarback.”
“Because you were planning to kill them?” Leeroy squinted at me in a way that only police seem to be capable of, like they’re joking, but don’t want to let on that they’re joking in case you’re willing to accidentally incriminate yourself. If you’ve ever been pulled over for speeding, then you know the exact look I’m talking about.
“Of course not. Because they would be my competition, and the more I understand about them, the better prepared I’ll be. I’d need to know what services they offer, and more importantly, what they don’t offer, as well as what failings they have that might entice their customers to look my way. It’s the basics of business.” His point was obvious; however, there was one glaring flaw in the comparison. “I don’t think these vampires are trying to start their own accounting firms, though.”
“No, they’re trying to move into a territory with a strong therian presence, an ancient dragon, two agents, and a fellow vampire who’s allegedly made alliances with all those powerful people. That sound like a hospitable place to you? It’s a big country, you know. Plenty of spots with easier pickings. Why do you think these vampires are coming to your town, fully aware that they’ll be under the scrutiny of much more dangerous beings?” Leeroy turned back to the watch the fight; evidently, he didn’t expect me to come up with an answer anytime soon.
“Because it’s safe.” I caught a bit of surprise in his eyes as Leeroy glanced at me, but kept on going. Now that the pieces were starting to line up in my head, I couldn’t keep them from tumbling out. “Yes, Winslow is very dangerous if you’re the sort of parahuman who breaks the law, but the flip side is that all those therians, and agents, and Gideon mean that if you keep to the treaties, then you don’t have a lot to fear. A few months ago, a therian tribe tried to overthrow Richard, and they were crushed in a single night.” Actually, they’d been wiped out completely, but I preferred
not to think about that part. Not that I, or anyone else, could have saved them. They attacked the King of the West directly, and no one stops Gideon when he’s moved to anger.
“A tribe tried to take over Richard’s spot, huh? Because they just wanted it so bad?”
“No, they were driven . . . out . . . of their home.” I’d forgotten about that detail, amidst all the kidnappings and overthrow attempts. “Are you saying these vampires are refugees fleeing from something?”
Leeroy leaned back, pressing his bulk against the stone wall. “I’m saying there are a lot of ways for a territory to get taken. Maybe you cut off a food source, or drive the locals into a frenzy, or compromise people’s safety at home. And if you’re smart, you can do it just legal enough to keep the law off you, be they agents or cops. Wouldn’t be the first time one group of parahumans has tried to expand their holdings by pushing all the others out. Course, shit like that won’t fly in a well-organized town like the one watched over by Gideon. Dragons are damn fine negotiators; the rules they play by are different than everyone else’s. He doesn’t need to wait for the law.”
It made sense, looking at it from that angle. But there was still one glaring flaw in the hypothesis that I couldn’t get past. “Krystal would know about that, if it were the case. She wouldn’t feel the need to worry about me.”
“Because every fear is always rooted in rational thought and logic?” Leeroy lifted an eyebrow at me and shook his head. “Krystal Jenkins is a good person, a tough lady, and one of the better agents I’ve gotten to train in a long time. That said, she is absolutely terrified of losing people once she lets them in. Can’t blame her, given her history, but it clouds her judgment sometimes. I’m not going to say these vampires have pure-hearted intentions; they might very well want to put you under the boot or leave your head out to meet the sun. But then again, they may just be trying to make sure you won’t have them all slaughtered by your therian friends for stepping on your turf.”