Suburban Vampire: A Tale of the Human Condition—With Vampires

by Franklin Posner

  “Yeah, we got an understanding.”

  Elizabeth turned and left the tiny, filthy room.

  “Hey! What about my leg?” Jesse asked.

  “Stay off it.”

  CHAPTER 25

  “Did you hear?” Grace asked as she burst into Mason’s office. The sergeant looked up from his computer, surprised at her sudden appearance, but not overly shocked.

  “About Stevens?” he responded. “Yeah, what a tragedy.”

  “Coincidental, right? That just the other day, I was talking with him about Scott Campbell. And now he’s dead.”

  “Yeah, coincidental is exactly what it is, Grace. Coincidental.”

  “So you accept the official story?”

  “Of course, I do, because it’s the only story. The jail made some kind of administrative error, and Stevens was accidentally released into general population. Somebody there decided that they did not like him—I dunno, maybe their cousin worked at the Pottery Barn—and decided to do society a favor. Yeah, I’m sure that the ACLU and the DOJ are going to be looking into this, but they’re the only ones who care. Even Stevens’s mother didn’t seem interested in pursuing the issue much.”

  “And conveniently, they haven’t found the killer.”

  “No, and all the inmates are pretty closemouthed over it. It’s that code they hold to, you know. Never rat on a brother. Especially this guy, whoever he is. Pretty much everyone in jail—and out of jail, for that matter—probably considers him a hero. In any event, like I said, he did society a solid here. No more wasting money on that piece of shit.”

  “So that’s it, huh? We aren’t going to pursue this any further?”

  “The investigation looks to be a dead end. Oh sure, some heads are gonna roll over in corrections. Maybe a supervisor will be demoted, or someone will be transferred to some other facility. Someone might lose their job, but I kinda doubt it. Other than that, it’s over. Done. Fini. Got it?”

  “Mason, Scott Campbell was involved in this. I know he was. Come on, can’t you see—”

  “No, Grace, I can’t see. It’s over. Your interest in Scott Campbell is over. You are not going to push this issue. You have some actual crimes to solve and real bad guys to put in jail. I suggest you stop wasting taxpayer money and do your job. On second thought, that’s not a suggestion. It’s an order. I do not want to hear the name Scott Campbell coming from your mouth again. Is that clear?”

  “Yes, sir. Clear. I won’t pursue the matter further.”

  “Thank you! Now, get out there and do the job you do best: putting real monsters in jail. Okay?”

  Grace left the room, still in a mood. She walked right by Kevin, who had been standing outside Mason’s office. She was so upset that she didn’t even notice him there. Kevin pulled his cell phone from its belt holster and dialed a number.

  “Yeah, you guys really don’t need to worry about Montoya,” he said into the phone. “They’re not paying any attention to her crazy theories. And she’s on a shorter leash now. If she pursues this further, I’m sure there will be internal ramifications. I’ll keep an eye on her, but I’m telling you, she’s going nowhere.”

  “Did you hear?” Irene called out from the kitchen Scott sat in his room, reading some ancient forbidden vampire text (which he found quite dry and rather boring) in preparation for his trial. He figured cracking the books for a little study session might not be a bad thing in light of his upcoming ordeal.

  “What?” Scott answered as he walked to the kitchen where his mother was sitting watching her small TV set.

  “About that Stevens fellow? The man at the mall whom you stopped from killing everyone?”

  “What about him?” Scott was immediately worried that Ralph might have changed his plea.

  “He’s dead.”

  Oh. Scott thought that it sucked to be him. “How?”

  “The news said it was a clerical error and somehow Stevens got released into the main part of the jail, where all the other inmates live, and one of them killed him.”

  “Oh. That’s too bad. Did they catch the killer?”

  “No, they still don’t know who it is. I’m sure they’ll find him. I mean, it’s a jail. Where could he go?”

  Scott thought about that for a moment. A clerical error sounded too convenient. He wondered if this had anything to do with him and who would feel the need to kill this guy for him. Scott concluded that Jack had to be behind this somehow. But why? Was he trying to protect me? Why would he protect me? After all, Scott was just a plaything to him. He had turned Scott on a lark. He had said so himself. So how could Scott be so special that Jack would kill for him? It surely couldn’t be out of the goodness of his heart.

  “Scott?”

  “Yeah, Mom?”

  “Before you go to work, could you go to the supermarket? We need eggs and milk.”

  “Uh, sure, no problem.”

  Scott slipped into a new after-work routine, that of training with Jeremiah. Every night that week, Jeremiah would push him to his limits and past them. Scott was becoming familiar with his speed and physical strength, and with the fact that his speed and strength were so far beyond anything he had previously believed himself possible of achieving that it really blew his mind. However, Jeremiah also taught him how to conserve his power, that he did not need to go full on every time. He introduced Scott to various fighting styles, both armed and unarmed. They met in a dojo that specialized in mixed martial arts after hours when no one else was around.

  “You are led to believe that the best fighter is the strongest or the fastest, when in fact the best fighter is the one who is most bloodthirsty. The one who fights as if his life depends on it, as if there is nothing more to lose,” Jeremiah said. “In mortal combat, you cannot simply be content with putting your opponent down. No, you must destroy him. Destroy him, or flee. When your life is on the line, there is no middle ground. You either win and live, or lose and die. It is a hard reality. Mortal men fall into two camps: those who must have this drilled into them and those who already have it. And most who have the innate ability to do violence are psychopaths. It is this predilection for violence that allows cruel men to dominate weak ones. However, there are some who have the ability to do violence and are able to use this talent to protect the weak, to fight for them. Sadly, the weak man often puts this second, more benign man of violence in a category with the psychopath, as he sometimes cannot tell the difference. I am here to help you learn how to use your propensity for violence for a greater purpose than your uncontrolled appetite.”

  “Okay, cool, so when do we start?” Scott asked.

  Completely by surprise, Jeremiah delivered a jab straight to his solar plexus. Scott flew across the room and hit the solid concrete wall. He collapsed to the floor and then tried to catch his breath, when he again remembered that he had no breath to catch.

  “We just did.”

  “Ow! Not fair! I wasn’t ready!” Scott said as he slowly got up. “Think you broke my back there. It’s better now.”

  “Combat is not fair. What did I say about ruthlessness?”

  “Yeah, you gotta be ruthless. I get it. But Jeremiah, that’s not me. I’m not ruthless—”

  Scott did not complete the sentence as Jeremiah delivered another unexpected blow, a solid haymaker to his jaw. His head violently twisted as bones loudly cracked. Scott collapsed to the ground, expecting his jaw to have been shattered by the blow. When he found that his jaw was just fine, Scott once again got up. Very slowly.

  “Come on, Scott, I know you have taken some martial arts before. Didn’t you do any sparring?”

  “Yeah, tae kwon do, but they pulled their punches.”

  “I am pulling my punches. Believe me when I say I could do far worse.”

  “Okay, fine, Morpheus. Thanks for being so gentle.”

  “Morpheus? Why do you call me the god of sleep?”

  “Uh, dude, The Matrix? Haven’t you ever seen The Matrix?”

  “No.
What is this matrix you speak of?”

  “Dude, it’s only like the greatest movie in ever! Well, the first one was. The sequels were kinda lame, though.”

  “I do not often view movies.”

  “Seriously? Two thousand years old, and you don’t get out to see movies much? We are so going to have to change that.”

  “Very well. As the one who is responsible for your guardianship, I will go and see movies with you.”

  “You totally have to come over to my friend Tim’s one night. He has, like, the best collection of science fiction, fantasy, and horror movies in the world.”

  “You would invite me to meet with your friends?”

  “I would, Jeremiah. There’s something different about you. You’re not like the other vampires. And by the way, I’m saying that as a friend. Not hitting on you or anything. I’m totally straight. I mean, not that the gay thing is wrong—just saying.”

  Jeremiah laughed. “I understand your meaning. I should like to meet your friends sometime.”

  “Well, it’s settled. Hey, Tim puts on a Halloween bash every year. Next week is Halloween, so if you don’t have any plans…what do vampires usually do for Halloween, anyway?”

  “I have no plans.”

  “Isn’t Halloween a big vampire holiday?”

  “No, you’re thinking druids. Vampires don’t have holidays. Halloween is just another day. We usually avoid it, in fact.”

  “Really? Why?”

  “You have seen the costumes: the Dracula costumes. It’s stereotyping. We consider it offensive.”

  “Well, now that you mention it, I guess it is. I mean, I never go around in a cape.”

  “We should talk about your fashion sense sometime, and how you have none.”

  “Really funny, Drac.”

  Scott laughed along with Jeremiah but soon ceased. Jeremiah could tell that something was nagging at Scott from deep within. “You are disquieted. What’s wrong?” Jeremiah asked.

  “This whole vampire thing. It’s still pretty weird to me. And there’s no way I can tell anybody about what I’ve become. But hiding it, well, it’s been rough. I’ve been thinking that there’s gotta be someone out there I can talk to about what happened to me. Someone I can be really honest with. Someone not a vampire.”

  “Ah. You seek counseling.”

  “Yeah, that’s it, I guess. A vampire therapist, a guidance counselor for the undead. Now, there’s a horror story for you.”

  “I thought I held that role for you.”

  “You’ve been great, Jeremiah, really, you have been, it’s just…you gotta admit, this is a pretty exclusive club we’re in. And sometimes, I just feel like talking with a nonmember about club business, you know?”

  “Are you acquainted with any holy men? Some of them, if they truly deserve the title of ‘holy,’ are quite good at listening and would not refuse anyone who needed their help. Although this is certainly not always the case; I’ve had more than my share of holy men who’ve wanted me dead.”

  “Well, there’s my pastor, Larry Parker. Though he’d probably say he wasn’t especially holy himself. Still, he’s helped me through some tough times. He’s not quick to judgment but always willing to listen. Do you think he’d be okay?”

  “I do not know, as I do not know this Pastor Larry Parker. Regardless, if you chose to reveal your inner self, you need to use discretion in whom you reveal it to, for they must conceal the same truth as you do now. If you tell this Pastor Larry Parker, he must agree never to reveal what you have told him. Is this understood?”

  “And if he does?”

  “Then you eat him.”

  “Jeremiah! I could never eat my pastor!”

  “I am kidding! Somewhat.”

  “Funny. I get that. Oh, by the way, Jeremiah?”

  “Yes?”

  “What’s that behind you?”

  Curious, Jeremiah turned to look, only to fall victim to the oldest trick in the book as Scott landed a powerful right hook to the side of his face. Jeremiah twisted around in a pirouette of pain as he went airborne and then crashed onto the matted floor. He lay there, taking his time to recover.

  “Ow. You okay, Jeremiah?”

  Jeremiah held up his hand and extended his thumb. “I’m all right!” he squeaked.

  Grace followed Scott from Simeon College to the dojo. She was not able to observe him any further after he entered the building, nor was she aware of any of his other movements, contenting herself to observe his car. When he left the dojo, she again followed Scott at a distance as she had before. She parked several houses down like before, observing, taking the occasional picture. She knew this was not enough. She knew that she had to let him know that someone was watching him, that someone was on to him, even if it was only her. She decided that she would make her surveillance more obvious and moved her car to the end of the street, adjacent to Irene’s property. She knew that this was a risk she had to take, as not only her job, but her life was potentially on the line here. Unfortunately for her, Scott retired early that night and was not even aware she was there. She determined she would arrive earlier the next night and face the demon.

  CHAPTER 26

  This particular night, Jack did not use a boat to arrive at the cast parts factory building up along the slough in the far northeast of Portland, deciding that he preferred a drier mode of transportation, the ever-present rain pushing him into this decision. He liked boats, but he preferred not to get his hair wet.

  He got out of the chauffeured black Chevrolet Caprice and entered through the main entrance of the old factory and headed into the spacious lobby, where he was directed down a hall and into a meeting room. Alice, Dave, and some other vampires, presumably all members of the local Improver Council, sat around the table. Alice had an angry scowl on her otherwise distinguished face, but then, Jack thought she always looked that way. Jack was not offered a seat, nor did he take one.

  “What the hell were you thinking?” Alice hissed. “An attempt on the life of Father? Really, Jack? If you really wanted to bring the heat down on us, you did a very good job.”

  “And,” Dave added, “the killing of Mr. Stevens. Do not deny that you were involved.”

  “Guys, guys, guys,” Jack said, “just hold on a minute. Now, I cannot confirm or deny that I may or may not have had a hand in the unfortunate events of late. But you cannot deny that they got the attention of the House.”

  “Yeah!” Alice said. “They got the attention of the House, all right. Enforcement is out for blood. Our blood. We have you to thank for that.”

  “Yeah, maybe the attention is a bit negative. But you can’t make a soufflé without breaking a few eggs, now, can you?”

  “A bit negative? A bit? You’ve unleashed an entire shit storm of negative attention!”

  “Alice is correct,” Dave said. “And because of your reckless actions, the council is now engaged in damage control, seeking to undo the harm you’ve done. It will not be an easy task.”

  “Right,” Alice said. “Your unsanctioned operations have subjected the Improvers to a level of scrutiny that we have not dealt with before. We always operated under the House’s radar. We are not ready for the onslaught that will result.”

  “Well,” Jack spat, “maybe we need to stop operating under the House’s radar. Maybe we shouldn’t give a shit what the House thinks. I mean, listen to yourselves: Damage control? Unsanctioned operations? My God, you sound just like Father. More bureaucratic bullshit. More keeping the vampires in line because, oh, maybe they’ll misbehave, Lawd have mercy! I thought we were the rebels, and this was the revolution! Instead, you want to take half measures. Don’t upset the apple cart too much, because, oh, it might piss Daddy off. None of you really wants to take action. None of you truly wants to set us free!”

  “That is not true,” Alice said. “We do want to be free, to be who we are meant to be. But we need to be cautious here!”

  “Bitch, please. I want to fuck shit up. I w
ant to take this battle to the House. I want to be a vampire. Not some bureaucratically controlled bag sucker. But I guess the rest of you don’t mind begging for Father’s crumbs. Pathetic.”

  “Jack,” Dave said, “you espouse a course of action that will lead us to disaster without popular support. And you are fully aware of the only way we can get that support.”

  “Campbell. Oh, I get it! You’re still pissed about Scott Campbell. Well, I’m working on a solution to that problem. Soon, our would-be messiah will be in our hands, gladly serving the cause of the Improvers. And I will be the vessel through which the prophecy is fulfilled,” Jack said as he genuflected to the vampires present.

  “Very well,” Alice said. “If you think you can get Mr. Campbell to join us, then by all means do. If he even survives the Inquisitor, which is a very big if. Then, we can talk about taking further actions against the House. Until then, you are not to engage in any action that is not sanctioned by the council. Do you hear me?”

  “Like a bell, Alice. I swear, I will be a good boy from here out. Scout’s honor.”

  “Good. Then we are done here. You are dismissed, Jack.”

  Jack once again bowed in an absurdly dramatic fashion and then left the room.

  “I knew we shouldn’t have trusted him,” Alice said. “I knew it.”

  “He’s still of use to us,” Dave said. “And he has access to the chosen one. Let us allow him to procure Scott Campbell for us. And until then, we go on the defensive and seek to avoid Father’s discernment.”

  Alice sighed. “Very well. You’re right. We need Jack—for now. God, I hate damage control…”

  Jack rejoined the two vampires who had been waiting for him in the black Caprice, still parked in the far corner of the mostly empty parking lot of the factory. He took a seat in the spacious rear of the large car, the other two vampires turning around to greet him. One of them placed a laptop on top of the front seat, facing it backward so Jack could see the screen. The vampire opened the Picture View function and began to show Jack the series photographs they had taken during the past few days.