by Thomas, Ally
Taking the photo from Nathan, I looked at the image on the paper. A woman naked and tied up, hands and feet bound behind her back and buttocks, a gag in her mouth, her body bruised and beaten, her face clean and untouched. Her long curly brown hair had been pulled back. An expression of ghastly horror covered her face. I knew the person I was looking at in the picture. The green and black snake tattoo on the outside of her upper right arm was one Stephanie had gotten before her journey into bloodletting, when she had been completely human.
“Grace knows the good times we have in the evening. This evening has been superb. We’d love you to pay us a visit. I’m sure Stephanie would love to see you.”
Nathan rattled on as Grace and Lynn gathered around me, staring at the photo in disbelief. I heard Grace’s thoughts. How could that be her?
A million questions and possible answers raced through my head as I gazed calmly at Nathan. I sensed his disbelief. He didn’t think I was a vampire at all, that I had made up all of my tall-tales. Indeed, indeed, I thought to myself.
Quickly I handed the photo of Stephanie in bondage to Lynn. She snatched it from me and shoved it in her jeans pocket.
“We’ll relieve you of this for the time being,” I said to Nathan, ignoring his grimace.
Grace telepathically shared with me more questions and advice about not harming Nathan. Even as my thirst returned and I debated making a scene amid the crowd of people wandering around Union Square, I knew the best course of action. Fear. Fear always worked with these non-believers.
With my vampire speed, I snagged Nathan by both hands, pulling him to me in a wicked embrace. I glared at him, knowing my eyes radiated the green glow of death they tended to do when I was pissed off and ready to go in for the kill.
After trying to wiggle out of my grasp for a few moments, he calmed as he looked into my eyes. My few inches of height helped to my advantage. He stood frozen.
“People are watching and filming this,” I heard Lynn say.
I shifted gears and returned to Happy Rayea. Speaking loudly so the crowd could hear, I said, “Kidnapped my sister, Stephanie, have you? Why my friend what possessed you to do that? Of course, I’ll pay you a visit. I’m looking forward to meeting your friends and family.”
I dropped Nathan’s hands, watching him stumble and nearly fall down in front of the three of us. When he regained his balance and stood, I smiled at him. My fangs clearly were visible for the world to see. “Run along now. Run along.”
Nathan fled my presence in horror. I thought of Jeremy and the few others bystanders I had frightened nearly to death when I revealed myself. It always took my breath away, even for a few seconds. Why did Nathan have Stephanie? Was that truly her in the photo?
As I heard Lynn begin to clap and smile, making a big deal about how awesome that ‘enactment’ was, I glanced over at her.
“Oh yes, that’s from Rayea’s new book. We just love to see her in action, don’t we?” She continued clapping loudly. “Bravo. Bravo. Bravo.”
The crowd responded and cheered.
“What are you doing?” I whispered.
“Saving our asses,” Lynn declared. “We need to go.”
Grace latched on to my arm. “Put your fangs away and smile!”
As the girls led me toward one of the exits, I wondered again what had just happened. Blick breaking up with me over the phone. Adoring fans wanting my autograph. Displaying my fangs in public and not getting bashed for it. Stephanie being kidnapped by that waste of space who had already harmed Grace. My life was fucked up. Truly fucked.
“How can this night get any worse?” I asked.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Lynn and Grace exchanged looks at one another. I blocked any thought that Grace may send my way. I didn’t want to hear it. I already knew.
Z.o.m.b.i.e.s.
Chapter 9
Cease and Desist (Satan)
***
“To live without hope is to cease to live.” ~ Fyodor Dostoevsky
***
Having allowed my new friends to retire for the night, I gave them money for cab fare and the books they wanted as well as a new perspective. The drops of blood I had been feeding them all night had not brought on the changes in them I had wanted. The herbal smoke they took daily probably countered it, I had surmised. But I didn’t let that dampen my outlook. I had been successful.
I locked the front door to the Red Skull. Max had become a bother during our night of partying, so I knocked him on the head and retired him to the storeroom. He’d see the party soon enough. Several patrons of his were already starting to get out of hand. Effortlessly, the savage rage latched on to them. The zombie phase would come next. I predicted an early dawn event of raging proportions. I smiled to myself and hailed a taxi.
When my phone rang, I picked it up. I knew who it was. My now being on Earth was a violation to G and the council. His son, the ever-popular J wanted to share with me how disappointed they were.
“You’re plan won’t work, Lucifer. Stop this now and leave.”
“J, how good to hear from you. I do believe I have no idea what you are talking about.” The tone of my voice purred into the phone. Always act ignorant with these folks. It’s the best course of action.
“I’m warning you.”
His audacity infuriated me. I had to teach J a lesson he would never forget. “Excuse me, you monkey twaut. I created the sound of madness, wrote the book on pain. And yet, somehow I'm still keep coming back. Why do you think that is? Let me explain this to you, you fuck. Do you really think I'll let anyone have my daughters. Now or ever? You, Mister Golden Armani Boy or that mutt friend of yours? You forget who you are talking to AND you forget your place.”
“My father will not allow you to re-enter Earth. That’s the agreement. Anywhere else is fine. We can monitor that. Earth? Absolutely not.”
Tapping the cab driver on the shoulder, I motioned him to stop. I handed him a hundred dollar bill and exited the cab. He was dazzled with my generosity and I needed some good vibes to finish my conversation with my shit brain friend on the phone. Leaning up against a lamp post, I pulled out the lighter I had stolen from Nathan. A keepsake. Flicking the lighter on and off, I stared at the flame. I wanted the fire power abilities my oldest daughter had. Someday I’d procure those too. Forcing my tone to soften, I replied to J.
“Let’s meet and discuss this like common folk. I can do that. Can you?”
“What is there to discuss, Lucifer? She wants nothing to do with you. You know that.”
“Really? She has never told me that. I would need to hear it from her lips.”
“Indeed,” J snapped back.
Such a haughty twit, I thought to myself. I shoved the lighter into my front pocket and reached for the other device I had stolen at the Red Skull, Max’s electronic tracer. Snapping it onto my phone, I switched the conversation over to speaker. “I’m so sick of your tombstone mentality. Life is full of more possibilities that you give it credit for.”
“Look, we’ve tried to be diplomatic about this. Having family issues is never easy, but harming mankind won’t be tolerated. It is Rayea’s decision to return to you or not. You can’t force her. None of us can.”
“We’ll see,” I replied as I added a wicked laugh in his ear. The trace was complete and I knew of J’s location now. I only hoped the mutt was with him as well.
Chapter 10
Unleashed (Rayea)
***
“There are just some songs that make you want to beat zombies with pool sticks.”
~ Unknown
***
Around midnight, we finally got to Max’s new place, the Red Skull. I didn’t bring up the subject of Stephanie because I didn’t want to discuss it. Grace finally let me alone as we neared the Red Skull. Max’s former bar, the Golden Skull bar, located at the corner of Clayton and Haight in San Francisco, had been an old neighborhood bar where tourists stopped by for a quick drink and locals called it their h
ome away from home. I regretted being a part of the bar’s demise. After it burned down, a result of my flammable vampire abilities and the fight Stephanie and I had had, Max had built a new place. The Red Skull.
As we walked over, Grace and Lynn had told me how popular it had become and how gorgeous the place was. “Glowing red lights on the walls, dark red carpet everywhere, black seats, chairs and tables. It was a fabulous layout, Rayea. Great location. Downtown near the Financial district. That’s primo real-estate, you know?” Lynn had said. Grace agreed with her, so I was rather excited to see the place when we got to the front entrance. But it was locked. A steady stream of people attempted to open the door as we stood and looked on.
“That’s odd,” Grace said. “I hear people inside.”
“Me too,” Lynn added.
Having frequented Max’s bar before and knowing his habits, Max didn’t lock the door unless there was trouble. I glanced over at Grace. She read my thoughts.
“You thinking what I’m thinking?” I asked her.
“It could be just a private party,” Grace commented. “Max locked you in a few times when you had celebrated too much with his special brand of Tequila.”
Lynn nodded. “I remember a few of those times.”
“I had writer’s block. It happens. This seems different. It’s a Friday night. Who shuts down at midnight on the weekend?”
Lynn and Grace nodded. “You’re right,” Grace said. “Something is going on. Is there a backdoor?”
When we heard a scream coming from the inside, we rushed around to the back of the building, passing more people strolling along on the side streets. The new location was extremely busy, I noted. As Grace and I forced the door open, we noticed that the hallway was clear. Max pounded on the storeroom door. “Anybody there? Help! Help!”
“Check on Max,” I said to Grace. Lynn went with her as I barred the backdoor with a long steel bar. We didn’t need anyone coming in or out until we figured out what was going on. We’d have utter chaos in seconds.
Another scream alerted us to danger in the front area.
Max waved at us in frustration. Jeremy, his teenage son clung to him. Max Edwards, the bar owner, often wore faded concert T-shirts with cut-off jeans and gray hiking sandals. Tonight he was in khaki shorts, funny looking shoes, and a long button-up short sleeve shirt that had his name embroidered on the left pocket. His long white hair fell over his shoulders.
I registered his attire. It was bowling night. Twice a week with his best friend, G.
“Get out there please. I don’t know what is happening. The people are going mad.” Max’s speech was frantic and rapid.
Immediately, I knew I needed to access the situation and calm Max and his son down. I motioned to Grace. “Can you take a look?”
Grace nodded, standing up. Lynn was about to follow her. “Lynn,” I warned. “Stay here with me.”
She rolled her eyes at me and bent down to comfort Jeremy.
“I’ve got to call G, Rayea. He’s picking me up. I don’t want him walking in on this.”
My throat tightened at that possibility.
“Max, it’s okay. We’ll handle this. Let’s get you guys out of here, so you can call G.”
Max snapped back at me. “No, I’m not leaving. Destroy another one of my bars if you must, but we have to contain this now.”
That’s when my jaw nearly dropped. I knew by his comments what was happening in the other room. I gritted my teeth, wishing I had gotten here earlier instead of playing around like the famous writer in Union Square, handing out autographs and taking photos with fans.
“Your father was here. This is his doing. He was handing out shots to a large group of kids. I saw him! He was squeezing off drops of blood from his fingers into the glasses, Rayea. This madness is because of him.”
Lynn gasped at Max’s declaration. Her eyes widened in confusion. “How is that possible? Real fucking zombies? No way!”
“They may be zombies. I don’t know,” Max continued. “But we can’t let them out on the street. That’s why I tried to stop your father, but he knocked us out. We just woke up here.”
Grace returned, standing next to me. “The front door is locked too. Looks like he did us a favor, Rayea. At least we are shut in.”
“And he wanted you to know about this, Rayea. Why else would he leave Max and Jeremy alive?” Lynn said as she stroked Jeremy’s sun-streaked hair.
He remained stunned and speechless, gazing at his dad.
More screams and this time moans surfaced from the main room.
“Okay, we need a plan.” Glancing around Max’s storage room, I looked for anything that could be used as a weapon.
“What about these?” Grace asked, picking up some shotguns propped up against the wall.
“I have some shells,” Max began. “But it may not be enough. I’ve got some swords underneath some boxes in the closet there. Use those.”
“Gunshots will draw attention to us,” I stated. “Let’s find the swords.”
Grace and Lynn searched for the weapons.
I handed my phone to Max. “Call G or anybody else you think can help us, okay?”
He nodded. “Please be careful out there.”
Glancing down at Jeremy, I wanted to ask him if he could fight. It wasn’t an option. The kid was too freaked out to be of use to anyone. Lynn nudged me. I grumbled under my breath.
“Don’t be like that,” she scolded. “I’ve been practicing.”
“What?”
Grace grunted. “We need to go now.” She shoved me and Lynn towards the end of the hall, facing the main door to the back entrance of the bar. I surmised what Lynn’s comment meant.
“Grace, have you been teaching Lynn to fight like one of those people in The Walking Dead?”
Grace grabbed her sword, swiveled her hips out, sword raised and ready to slice and dice. “Yes, I have. Deal with is, Boss lady!”
We all erupted in laughter for a second until the moans and now pounding on the main door stopped us.
I raised my sword too. “I love you guys,” I blurted out. “Just don’t die on me tonight or any night.” I rushed forward and waited at the main door as Grace locked Jeremy and Max in the storage room.
***
Nothing could have prepared us for the scene we witnessed as we shoved our way through the main door and bolted it behind us. Mentally I thanked Max for using heavy locks on all his doors as well as reinforced hinges. No one would be able to get out and we wouldn’t be able to leave.
“Stick together,” I whispered. “Maybe we can make it to the front there and fight on the bar.”
“Good idea,” Grace muttered.
Lynn also stuck to her word and shadowed me. I wasn’t sure if it was out of fear or loyalty. Probably the former and not the latter, I thought to myself.
Too many zombie movies had filtered into my head, so I decided moving at a snail’s pace through the crowd would work. I thought of one movie in particular, Shaun of the Dead, where the friends pretend to be zombies as they wandered through the undead confusion.
To my relief, as we crept through the people, I realized that many people had not fully transformed yet. They stood motionless with blood pooling in their savage vacant red eyes. Unseeing and blind.
Once we climbed up on the bar with our swords out ready, only a few rushed at us. Their transformation had been faster and while they struggled to see, bumping into chairs and tables, they finally found us.
“What’s wrong with them?” Lynn asked, holding her sword tightly.
Her knuckles were white.
“The dosage they got. A drop or two of demon blood didn’t fully change them.”
Michael materialized in between Grace and me. I couldn’t believe my eyes. He crouched next to us like a golden ninja. Clothed all in black, tightly fitting long sleeve shirt and pants, heavy black boots with an array of knives and small guns attached to his outfit. Michael’s face was bronzed by the sun. He h
ad a stubble beard, a generous mouth, straight nose, and an adorable cleft chin. His bright, clear blue eyes were as blue as the ocean outside Blick’s home. I growled at my remembering Blick again.
Pulling my tall, handsome archangel friend into my arms, I hugged him.
He laughed. “Easy now. You are engaged.”
I flashed my teeth at him. “Apparently not.”
Seeing Michael’s frown, I raised my hand. “Later.”
He nodded. He was armed to the teeth. When he removed a super long sword from the holding sheath on his back, I could have sworn I heard Lynn gasp.
“We’ve been on your father’s trail since he appeared on the grid again. He’s trying to create an army, but it’s not turning out that well for him,” Michael said.
“Go figure,” I laughed as I thought of Satan’s ridiculous schemes. But as I looked out at the dozen or so people wandering around confused and disoriented, I realized the horror they had walked into. No one deserved an existence like this. We had killed a lot already as the tainted blood had consumed them. Seeing these people in some sort of lifeless fog made me shutter.
“I’ve got to fix this,” I said as I leapt off the bar. “Grace?”
“What are you doing, Rayea?” Grace screamed.
I turned around in the sea of confused souls, looking back at my friends.
“Get back here, Rayea. Now!” Lynn jumped up and bolted over to where Michael stood on the bar.
“I’ve been trying to figure this out all evening, ever since I saw that photo of Stephanie that Nathan showed me. Why did Stephanie look human again? What had happened to her Medusa appearance?”
“No,” Grace yelled at me. “That photo is a fake. You know that, Rayea. It’s not real. It can’t be.”
Michael placed his hand on Grace’s shoulder. It appeared he wanted to calm her down. “She’s our maker, Grace,” he said. “The healing properties of her blood are the reason you are alive.”
“You guys are nuts!” Grace yelled.
Taking out a small blade, Michael reached for a whiskey glass from the bar. “May I?” he asked Grace as he motioned to her arm. “A simple test can tell us.”