“Don’t try to talk,” the cute EMT was saying to me now, completely ignoring the argument that her partner was having with Officer Tom behind us. “You just keep your eyes on me and we’ll get you taken care of.”
So I looked into her eyes, and I tried not to scream too much as they moved me onto the stretcher and then wheeled me toward the audience. It was remarkable that she knew what I was and that I obviously wasn’t the first vampire she had seen, yet there was no fear or anger from this angel of the night. She was so young too, but her eyes were so much older than her 22 years (I’m guessing here). All of the shit she had seen was no match for meeting yet another vampire on the job.
It was part of the training, an important part of how Harry made the system work in his city. He might be an asshole, but he looked out for his kind and managed it seamlessly so that none of us ever thought about what was going on.
I saw Sammy walk towards the crowd now, and I tried to look, wondering if Harry had personally shown up, but it wasn’t Harry she was talking to, no. It was much, much worse.
Jaime stood there at the edge of the crowd and in that one instant, my eyes caught hers just for a second, and she recognized me.
I knew in that one instant so much information had been communicated, and that she was fully aware what I had been doing in that alley. There was no hiding from it or lying to her. This was the girl who had allowed herself to love me once a long time ago, and she knew me well, better than anyone else. She knew how my mind worked and just how fucked up I was, so you damn well know that she instantly was aware that I had been in that alley to spy on her again, and she was pissed off about it. It didn’t matter that I was being lifted out in an ambulance; there was just no excuse for what I had been doing. Sammy intercepted her, but they were out of sight as the EMTs loaded me into the ambulance.
Still my heart pounded, racing as adrenaline rushed through my veins and emotion filled me with this weird kind of desperation that if I could just take it back, I could undo it, just give me a chance, and I could fix it dammit… but it was too late for me. Too late to tell Jaime what I had really been doing this time, despite the months that I had been doing exactly what she thought I was doing today. It didn’t matter that I was only trying to protect her from Beatrice and that there were a thousand other ways I could have done this that wouldn’t have put me where I was now. That didn’t matter. It wasn’t logical and safe and good, because I wasn’t any of those things. I’d just wanted to see her again, selfish as it was.
“Calm down buddy boy,” cute EMT was saying, and I realized that the machines they’d hooked me up to were spiking rapidly from my evident distress.
Then she injected my neck with a syringe and the world went away for a while.
***
“You know Harry bought the store, right?” Sammy was waiting as I got dressed. “Just went in and bought it up and now we have a vampire on staff at all times… for when Beatrice comes back for me.”
It was two days after the attack, and I had been fixed up at Madame Vera’s. Apparently they had a team of private doctors who knew exactly how to operate on vampires. They’re the guys who get called in if there is an amputation, and the limbs and patient are together. They were very expensive and only available to the very elite, the ones that I will never ever get to meet. How expensive are they? Let’s just say that when Madame Vera so sweetly paid off the bill, she had a very predatory look in her face, one that said she now owned me for a long time.
“What happens now Bob?”
“Tell me what happened with Jaime.”
She just stared at me for a long moment and then finally shrugged, looking away, obviously about to lie to me.
“Don’t worry about Jaime. There’s nothing you can do there.”
“Did she see me? Did she know it was me?”
“Just leave it alone Bob!”
“Did she even care?”
I yelled this last bit and goddammit if I wasn’t fighting back tears. I’d gone over it in my head over the past few days, obsessively playing the non-encounter over and over again, reframing it and re-imagining it so that I came out on top, I was the eloquent hero, not the poor schlub that I was, strapped to a stretcher being wheeled way. The truth always tried to reassert itself even in my deranged fantasy and the truth was simple and brutal: she had seen me and knew what I was.
I saw that truth in Sammy’s eyes now as she turned to face me, angry at me for forcing her to take on this role.
“NO!” She yelled, and it was true. “She didn’t give a shit. In fact, the only thing she asked me was if you were going to live, and when I told her yes, you know what she did? You know what she said?”
I didn’t want to hear anymore not at this point, but there was no stopping Sammy. I can even see it in my head playing out in such a typical fashion, because yes, she knows me well, but I know her better.
She had shaken her head and rolled her eyes, wishing for a cigarette, and yes she probably blamed Sammy for being an enabler, after all what was she doing there in the alley with me, right?
“Figures,” Jaime had said. “Can’t keep a good cockroach down, right Sammy?”
Jaime had walked away, leaving behind any explanations Sammy had prepared. She hadn’t wanted to know what happened because she didn’t care. Jaime was direct even if she was hurting inside. She got what she wanted and then got the fuck out. I taught her to shield herself like that from my constant fuck-ups.
Sammy left me, and I stayed there until Vern showed up to kick me out. But he did it nicely, so that was okay.
***
Harry. It’s always Harry. We were at the club this time, the staff in the background getting ready to set up for the night’s business. I followed along with him as he inspected the place and occasionally signed pieces of paper that were thrust into his face.
“I still fucking hate you Bob, just so we’re clear.”
“Yay me.”
“I will do everything I can to hunt Beatrice down and end her. Even if it means protecting you. Sammy, I like her, so we’re going to take good care of her, but you’ve still got to earn it kiddo. Since Beatrice is looking to make your life miserable, my theory is that she’ll follow you wherever you go, so you’re leaving town for a while. Get as far from here as possible and make sure to let her know where you are. We pick a spot, our rules, and when she comes for you, we close in and kill the bitch.”
I wasn’t too sold, but at this point I really didn’t give a fuck. I was still thinking about Jaime and how much I had fucked everything up.
“You sure she’ll fall for it?”
Harry pressed his thumb on an iPad that one of the managers presented to him and shooed him away, swiping through another iPad. He was a busy man and clearly didn’t have time for this shit, my shit.
“Worst comes to worst, it gets you and her out of my city and you get murdered in a very public and brutal way… but it won’t be my problem. Best case scenario, she falls for it, hook line and sinker, and we reel her in. It’s the best option you currently have. I bought the store to keep tabs on it, and Sammy is going to be working there as usual, so if Beatrice feels so inclined to visit Sammy some more, we got that under control, so you don’t have to worry about protecting Sammy anymore.”
Considering the bang-up job I’d done with that, right? That went unspoken, loud and clear.
“And I do appreciate it, believe me, I really do. But while we’re on the topic of you buying the store and protecting me and Sammy and all that good stuff… do you think I can get a raise?”
Harry shouldn’t have expected anything else from me. Why did he always look so surprised? The manager that had been heading for us saw the look on Harry’s face and decided he had urgent business elsewhere. Harry stepped forward, pushing me awkwardly back against the nearest bar. He loved to get right into my face as an intimidation tactic and boy did it work.
“You’re fucking kidding me right?”
“Tec
hnically I’m away on ‘official company business’ right now, and honestly I’m broke as fuck, while being used as bait for the ‘company business,' so I’m thinking that’s definitely gotta be worth something…”
Harry stepped away. Clearly I was giving him a headache,
“Get the fuck out of here Bob.”
“Fuck you Harry!”
I was on my feet and yelling before I even knew it. It surprised the shit out of me and Harry both. It wasn’t something I had planned, but I was damned if I was going to back down now. Harry turned back to me, a storm brewing with his emotions, ready to smack me down for talking to him that way in his club, but I decided that I really didn’t care anymore. What did I have to lose anyway?
I dodged as he grabbed for me, dancing away with an agility I didn’t know I possessed. He caught me on the second try though, so I wasn’t that fast or graceful, especially with my feet dangling inches off the ground.
“Go ahead and beat me up if it will make you feel better. Please fucking do it. Pound my head into the carpet until I’m a bloody mess just an inch away from dying. I know you’re thinking it, and I know you want to do it so fucking bad, but I’m still going to tell you the same thing now as I will when I wake up in three days… a week, a month or however long it takes me to recover from whatever the fuck you’re going to do to me. You wanna know what that is? It’s easy. Fuck you. Because I’m going to fight you, and I’m going to fuck you up because I’m not going out without causing some damage. And I’m going to be giving you the middle finger the whole way out.”
He hit me then, just drew back and punched me hard in the stomach, sending me flying back into the bar, smashing everything that lay in my path. I struggled to get up, but couldn’t because it hurt too much. Harry may have ruptured something inside. I spat blood confirming my diagnosis, but you know what, I still didn’t give a shit.
Besides, that had been one of Harry’s weaker punches.
I laughed and struggled to speak, blood running down my face.
“You’ve gotten used to me just taking shit, because surprise, surprise, I’m a fuck up. I know I’m a fuck up, believe me, I know, cuz I’m the one who has to live with me. All of the mistakes I’ve made, I get to look them in the face every single fucking time I look in the mirror and ask myself just how the fuck did I get here. Well, I know exactly how I got here, and I’m not proud of it all, but at least I’m here to tell you personally that I’m still alive despite myself. I’m proud of being a fuck up who’s survived this long, and that should tell you that at least I’m very fucking good at staying alive.
“So go ahead Harry, fuck me up, kill me and bring me back just so you can kill me again, but right now, here’s my middle finger… and look: here’s the other one.”
Now that I had committed ritual suicide, time to sign the note.
“So give me a raise motherfucker, or go fuck yourself.”
***
I’m still surprised that Harry didn’t kill me.
I’d like to say I got out of there without more of a beating, but you don’t know Harry.
And then… then I went to Texas.
***
Here’s what you don’t do with someone you’re using as bait. Don’t give them $20,000 in cash, a brand new BMW and a trunk full of guns. This does not end well in most cases, especially for someone like me.
For a while, I just sat in the car, drinking it in, feeling the reality of it all and trying to shut it out for a little while, at least long enough to enjoy the bounty of awesomeness that this fucked up situation had pushed into my lap. Have you ever sat inside a BMW or one of the luxury cars that are way out your price range? You really should do it at least once, especially if you can’t afford it. There are no force fields that activate after automatically scanning your wallet to decide that your bank account couldn’t possibly afford the car, and thus keep you out of the car. Anybody can walk into a Mercedes or BMW dealership and just sit in one of the cars. If you handle yourself right and do not under any circumstances indicate to the salesperson that you cannot possibly afford the car, they will even let you take it for a test drive. And it will be awesome. From the moment you sit in the car you completely and totally get it, just how fucking awesome it would be to have this kind of toy all of the time. It’s not like sitting in any other car: it’s a fucking experience, a reminder that you’ve made it, and you deserve this kind of luxury.
“I am so fucked,” I said out loud then, catching my eye in the rear view mirror. I could tell you more about the car and how much it blew me away, about how much I wanted to have someone with me right now so I could have sex in the backseat of the car. Hell, I would have sex in the front seats and on the hood of the car because it would just be so fucking cool to do it.
I’d pulled out my cellphone and was looking through my contact list for someone likely, when I realized that the phone didn’t match the car. I was still using an iPhone 3GS, and here I was sitting in one of the coolest damn cars on the planet.
“No, you’ve got to go.”
My eyes wandered over to the pile of cash on the passenger seat, and I couldn’t help but smile., a great big shit-eating grin that split my face from ear to ear.
The endless possibilities of what I could do with all of that money, all $20,000 of it in large unmarked bills… oh the possibilities were begging to be discovered. See, there is one thing about having your hands on all of that money. The main thing being that it was something that most people may have experienced only once in their lives. My first experience was when I had been laid off four years ago from my graphics design job with a successful internet company. I’d cashed out my 401K and just gotten the hell out of town $12,000 lining my pockets, but I was aware then, very conscious that it really wasn’t that much money and just to survive was going to take more than that in the long run. But it was sure nice to look at. Now when that huge pile of money sitting there isn’t yours, and it’s not a loan or anything that anyone at all has indicated they expect you to return… well that just changes everything.
Plus I was sitting in a brand new top of the line BMW SUV.
As long as I had a target on the back of my head, I figured I might as well enjoy some of the perks, right? I mean, I could literally die at any second, murdered in my brand new car, and that just didn’t seem fair.
One hour and five thousand dollars later I was wondering what the fuck had just happened to me.
In a flash, I could understand how so many lottery winners could end up broke months later. They’re just not used to having that much money, and the ability to just say yes to impress the cute girl in the Apple Store was too much temptation. Plus the girl at the suit store was a redhead and needed a closer look…
I glanced at the brand new and expensive watch on my wrist, ready to get moving, ready to leave town, but procrastinating like a madman. I wasn’t quite ready to leave town yet. Maybe a couple of stops…
***
“You look like shit,” Sammy was working the early shift and it was just past 8PM. “Why the hell do you need a suit for?” She didn’t look too surprised to see me, but that may have been due to the new security system that had been installed. Sammy had four angles alone on the exterior of the store showing on a monitor behind the counter. The cameras were tiny unless you knew what to look for, but they were very effective. She’s had plenty of time to prepare herself to look overly bored at my arrival.
“You shouldn’t talk to your new manager that way.”
I liked my new suit. It was very damn cool looking if I say so myself. Sammy hardly blinked. She could always tell when I was fucking with her.
“Fuck you. You’re not my new manager.”
“I am totally your new manager. Harry promoted me. He punched me a few times first but totally promoted me. I think I’m growing on him: he ruptured my spleen or something, but he hardly left a bruise this time.”
“Then fuck you: I quit.”
“Just like that
?”
“Am I getting a raise?”
“Well, since I’m not your new manager and you just quit—“
“I’ll un-quit if you give me a raise.”
“I’m going to Texas.”
“Is this because I quit or…”
“Or.”
“Is this the part where I’m supposed to risk life and limb and volunteer to come with you even though I know that psycho is hunting you and will most likely track us down in a week or two and kill me first so you can watch? Are we at that part already?”
“Well, when you put it that way…”
Sammy just gave me a look.
“I’m going to go fuck myself now.”
“You should do that. “
I turned to leave and paused, looking around at the place I’d spent so much time in over the past couple of years. God what a dump, but it was home in the weirdest way— a fleshlight smacked me in the head, and I turned, protesting. What had I done this time?
“Don’t fucking do it Bob. Don’t make this goodbye. You’re just going to depress the shit out of me.”
“You gonna be okay?”
“Didn’t you hear? I got promoted to manager, and I got a raise. I’m gonna be fucking great. Plus I got Boris to keep me safe.”
“He’s here all the time?”
Sammy made a whirling motion with her finger, and I turned around—
Boris, the bald six foot tall highly trained killer, was standing right behind me. He was definitely a vampire, and he didn’t like me one bit. Didn’t matter though, since we were hardly going to be pounding beers anytime soon.
“You look like trouble. I don’t like trouble.”
Uh-oh. I was already backing up, shaking my head in the negative, not liking where this was going. I waved to Sammy.
“Remember that thing you said earlier?”
“What? About you going to fuck yourself?”
“Yeah. That one. I’m going to do that now.”
I escaped out the door but then popped right back in, unable to give Sammy the last word. I was fucking scared all of a sudden and I didn’t want to not have the chance to say goodbye. Yeah, Sammy was a bitch, and abrasive as hell, but she was still my friend and no one was ever going to take that from us.
So You Might Be a Vampire Page 29