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

by Franklin Posner

  Jeremiah could swear he saw a grin break on Elizabeth’s face, but he said nothing as she continued escorting Dawn to the lot.

  “Scott, we should go,” Jeremiah said. Scott stood there looking at the charred, burning remains of the boat.

  “I guess this is some kind of justice,” Scott said. “But it doesn’t compensate for all the destruction Jack caused. Or for all he took from me. This will never bring me back my soul, will it?”

  “Ah, Scott,” Jeremiah said, gently placing his hand on Scott’s back. “The fact is, no one truly knows what happens to the soul. Does a vampire truly lose it when he turns? Some say that conversion does not really cause the loss of the soul; rather, it allows the darker parts of one’s humanity, the things that were hidden deep inside, to be unleashed. Whether either is true, I cannot say. Some things have to be taken on faith.”

  “Thanks, Jeremiah, that’s kind of encouraging. But what about food? Will I never be able to enjoy my mom’s cooking again?”

  “That I cannot help you with.”

  “Oh well, that’s less encouraging.”

  “I apologize.”

  “Ah well, there’s nothing you can do about that, I guess.”

  They began walking toward the lot when Scott once more looked back upon the smoking, burning wreckage in the slough. “Still, that was kind of cool, the whole explosion thing, wasn’t it? Where does Elizabeth get all those cool weapons?”

  “Let’s go, Scott. Now.”

  “Oh yeah, okay, now…”

  CHAPTER 35

  Police and federal agents swarmed the old Amalgamated Cast Parts Plant that early morning, investigating the explosion. Elizabeth used her contacts in the Portland Police Bureau and various alphabet-soup federal agencies investigating the scene (some of whom happened to be House-loyal vampires themselves) to create the public story that the explosions were caused by multiple gas leaks at the abandoned factory. The cover would appease the local media and not create too much suspicion among the populace. Likewise, Elizabeth crafted a story for Dawn: apparently, she had been kidnapped by some violent, drug-crazed sex offenders, and somehow the police were alerted to her plight. When law enforcement engaged the criminals, they chose to end their careers in a hail of gunfire. Elizabeth also used her contacts to pad the story and sell it to the media.

  Scott drove Dawn home. Since they were both worn and still in shock from the events of that morning, they did not speak to each other during the long drive from North Portland to her home. Eventually, Scott pulled up in front of the Rhinebeck residence and walked Dawn to the door. He knew her family would be consumed with fear about her and that she needed to be with them.

  Dawn opened the door to find her father and mother, their faces streaked with tears, on the other side. They warmly embraced their daughter. Scott heard her tell them that she called him, knowing that he was a trustworthy friend, and asked him for a ride home, which was a lie, of course, but her parents did not question it. Scott heard her parents tell her how frightened they were, how they had been praying for her safety, how they were terrified by the news that Todd’s body had been found in the Dumpster at the restaurant, and how so very thankful they were that no harm had come to her. Scott was also thankful, and while he stood outside, he also said a little prayer of gratitude to God. He then turned to leave.

  He had just reached his car when Dawn called to him. “Scott!” She pulled away from the embrace of her parents and exited the front door. “My parents would like you to come in!”

  Scott shook his head. “They have to be the ones to invite me in since it’s their house. It’s a vampire thing. But I don’t think they’d like to give access to their home to a vampire, anyway.”

  “I won’t tell, I promise. Your secret is safe with me.”

  “I know it is.” Scott turned to leave once more, but again Dawn stopped him.

  “Scott, I never said thank-you!”

  He stepped toward the young woman. He looked into her eyes, her eyes filled with hope, with promise—and was that desire he saw, or was he just imagining things? She moved forward, her face tilted to meet his. Scott bent forward, noticing Dawn’s trembling lips. And then he kissed her. Gently. On the cheek.

  “Seeing you here is all the thanks I need,” Scott said. “I’ll see you in church.”

  He walked to his car and did not look back, but he knew Dawn was watching him.

  No, Dawn, this probably shouldn’t happen. I’ve endangered you enough, don’t you think? And that is what you’ll get with me: a life filled with danger, and darkness, and all sorts of nastiness. Okay, so maybe I’m being a bit melodramatic. The point is, Dawn, you’re a young woman with your life ahead of you. And I’m a vampire. With, hopefully, a real long life ahead of me. These things never work out. You deserve a nice, happy life, with a nice, happy guy who can give you a nice, happy family and that kind of nice, happy stuff. That ain’t me. I mean, I think I’m pretty nice, but the family thing is right out. Still, and I can’t believe I’m saying this, because you’re the prettiest girl who has ever shown an interest in me, but I think we should just be friends. Okay?

  Scott got in his car as the sun began to peek over the looming visage of Mount Hood far to the east, its purple hue turning to brilliant red and orange and then to a bright blue as the rain and the clouds of the previous night retreated. This is going to be a good day, he told himself.

  Scott’s mother was also quite beside herself when he came through the door at such an ungodly hour of the morning. He explained that he had responded to Dawn’s plight and was helping a friend, which seemed to soothe her somewhat. She then was concerned about Scott’s lack of sleep; he assured her that a nap would help take the edge off.

  Work was, well, work. Typical Simeon IT department’s soul-crushingly boring work. But it was routine, normal, everyday, and Scott appreciated it as a change from the insane, nightmarish events of that morning. Until the phone call came. It was Father. He wanted to meet with Scott on Saturday. Scott had originally planned on a lazy, uneventful Saturday where he could just lay about the house watching hours of sci-fi shows and playing video games. This hope was now crushed.

  Saturday came, and Scott found himself driving to the West Hills again. As he parked his Mustang along the House’s long driveway, he was approached by a man who looked entirely blue collar, wearing jeans, cowboy boots, a sport jacket, and a plaid shirt. To the ordinary eye, this man would look entirely normal. But Scott knew the true nature of this working-class stranger.

  “Hi,” the man said, “my name is James. It’s a pleasure to meet you. No—it’s an honor.”

  “Likewise,” Scott responded. “What do you want?”

  “I represent the Improver Council, and I have just come out of a meeting with Father and the remainder of the House administrators, where I expressed my profound regret about the events that happened over the past couple of days. I have also expressed that these events should not reflect on the true nature of the Improver movement and that it was simply the act of a rogue extremist element within the Improvers, which allowed itself to be manipulated by the terrorist known as Jack. I also expressed my gratitude to Enforcement for bringing that terrorist to justice. I did this in the hopes that there would be no misunderstanding between the House and the Improver Council.”

  “Oh. That’s nice.”

  “And further, I wanted to extend to you my regrets as well as my thanks for your actions against Jack. I am hoping that there will be no misunderstanding between yourself and the Improvers.”

  James offered his hand, which Scott shook. “Thanks for the sentiment, but I really gotta run—”

  “Mr. Campbell, might I have a second of your time?”

  “Fine. Keep it brief, though. Father wants to see me.”

  “I appreciate that. Mr. Campbell, you are a singular figure in the history of vampire kind. I don’t know if you are aware of your importance to us as a whole. Anyway, that kind of prominence should not be con
sidered lightly. We at the Improver Council would be so honored if you would make yourself acquainted with our cause.”

  “And what cause is that?”

  “Freedom. Freedom for vampire kind to be what we were meant to be.”

  “You mean freedom to be monsters?”

  “We don’t appreciate the term ‘monster,’ as we find it somewhat pejorative. I mean, if that is how you see it, I would like to dissuade you, if possible.”

  “No, it’s not possible. What you want is the freedom to feed on whoever you want. The freedom to kill people at will. The freedom to enslave and dominate people. Is that close?”

  “That is…close, although I’d prefer not to put it in those simplistic terms.”

  “Then what terms would you put it in? Look, James, you seem like a nice guy, but if the freedom you seek is the freedom to kill and destroy, then you can count me out.”

  James looked crestfallen. Scott had nailed him down; he could not deny what Scott said. “I’m sorry that you see it that way. I apologize.”

  “Yeah, well, like I said, I have a meeting.”

  “Very well, then. Have a good day, Mr. Campbell.”

  James walked away as Scott headed into the House. The damage caused by Jack’s attack had either been repaired or was in the process of repair. As usual, Father was seated at the head of the long table, and a few other vampiric dignitaries were seated around the table, including Chang, his arm and leg since returned to him, looking none the worse for wear. Elizabeth stood behind Father, as was her usual province. Scott took the seat at the foot of the table like he had during his trial.

  “Thank you for coming, Scott,” Father said. “We are glad you could be here. There are a couple purposes behind this meeting; the first is to offer you our gratitude for your actions on Thursday night and Friday morning. The killing of Jack was regretfully necessary, and we honor your role in it. All reasonable vampires owe you a debt that cannot be easily repaid.”

  “Thank you, Father. But you realize, I didn’t do this for you or the House. I did it for me. Well, me and a human girl whom I care about.”

  “Be that as it may, your actions were noble and honorable. We are proud to have you as a member of this House. Now, the second issue is one of concern to us. We know that you have stated in the past that you wish to use your vampiric abilities to benefit the humans. While we avoid harming humans as much as possible, we are not their servants. This must be distinctly understood. We just want to be sure we knew where you stood and where your loyalties lie.”

  “Father, thanks for those nice things you’ve said. It means a lot to me. Really, it does. Anyway, you want to know where my loyalties lie. I meant what I said when I told you that I would like to use my powers for good—to help people, not to eat them. You know, at first I thought this whole vampire thing was a curse. And, truth be told, I still kind of do. But with this curse comes abilities that totally blow my mind. I mean, I can do so much more, be so much more, than I ever could before. This path was given to me, here, now, for a reason. What that reason is, hell, I don’t know. Am I some vampire messiah or dark warrior or whatever? The hell if I know, and in fact, it doesn’t really matter to me. What matters is what I do with what I have been given.

  “A wise man once said, ‘With great power comes great responsibility.’ Okay, that was from Spider-Man. Whatever. It was a good movie. Anyway, the point is, you wonder where my loyalties lie. I understand the House has jurisdiction over vampire matters. That’s fine and dandy. But I can’t say my loyalties lie with the House. And they sure don’t lie with the Improvers. My loyalties lie on the side of righteousness. I know, as a vampire, I’m not exactly righteous. But that’s where my heart is. I know, my heart is dead; just roll with it, okay? Anyway, I will always try to do the right thing, even if it is unpopular. Even if it’s illegal.” Scott rose from his seat. “If you have a problem with this, oh well. You’ll get over it. Or not.”

  Without further explanation or argument, Scott walked out of the House. The vampires assembled around the table just sat there in shocked silence. Nobody noticed that Elizabeth was smiling.

  Grace sat alone in her dining room with a bottle of Fat Tire in one hand and a wooden table leg in the other. She had found the table leg discarded by a neighbor, who fancied himself a “do-it-yourselfer” but who always seemed to have a pile of partially finished wooden table legs lying in his discard pile (apparently he wasn’t a very successful do-it-yourselfer). Despite its flaws, it was perfect for her intents. After all, she had used pieces from the neighbor’s pile before. The last time she did, she was unsuccessful. Perhaps the next time, she would succeed. She had to.

  Grace put the beer down and flipped open her Benchmade Folder and began whittling the table leg into a stake. You think being suspended will stop me, Scott Campbell? You think a restraining order will dissuade me? Then you have no idea who you’re dealing with. I know who you are, I know what you are, and I will stand against you, because no one else can. Only know this: The next time we meet, I shall not fail. The next time we meet, so help me God, I will end you.

  Sunday morning came, as it always did, with Irene awakening Scott. She was all ready for church and told Scott to get up because he was driving. She hadn’t been taken for a proper spin in the Mustang yet and was insisting that today, after church, was the day. Scott agreed and planned to take her to lunch down along the Sandy River and then out on the scenic Historic Columbia River Highway. He got up and noticed that unlike the last several Sundays, he was actually looking forward to attending church. He did not know why he felt that way (Could it be Dawn? he wondered. But no, somehow he didn’t think that was it), just that he did feel it.

  The service began with Pastor Larry praising God that their Dawn had been delivered from evil. Never mind that no one knew she had assisted in her own rescue, having slain a couple of vampires herself. Dawn and Scott both knew, and that was enough. Dawn had taken her seat with the choir and opened the first hymn, an old favorite of Scott’s from back when he was still human:

  It is well,

  With my soul,

  It is well, it is well

  With my soul!

  The congregation stood, their voices rising from the tiny chapel to the heavens. Scott found himself moved by the music, but whether it was the voices coming together in chorus or if it was the words of the old hymn that moved him more, he did not know. All he knew was that he found himself, for the first time in a long, long time, standing with the congregation as they were joined in song.

  I need to be here. And what’s more, I am needed here. This is exactly where I should be.

  Scott still didn’t sing, though.

  EPILOGUE

  “Mmmm, this is a tasty Manhattan,” Professor Malheur said as he sat in the booth in the darkened lounge, the piano at the bar playing softly in the background. “One of the better Manhattans I’ve had in Portland, in fact. Can you guess where the absolute best Manhattan I’ve ever had was?”

  “Um, Manhattan?” responded his guest that sat across from him.

  “Goodness, no. Miami. Little Havana, in fact, if you can believe that. It was in an after-hours nightclub behind this little bodega that served the best Cuban-style sandwiches I’ve ever had. Anyway, I have no idea what they did to make it so different. I think it was something with the bitters, but I’m not sure. I have never come anywhere near to replicating that distinct flavor. But anyway, enough about mixed drinks. You look like hell, Jack.”

  “Thanks,” Jack said as he held a wet bar towel to his reddened face. “That’s what happens when you jump out of the path of an RPG at the last second.”

  “Yes, you’ve got an exciting mauve glow going on your face. Are you using aloe vera? I recommend aloe vera.”

  “No, that’s fine. It’ll heal soon enough. It’s a damn sight better than it was yesterday. I was downright crispy.”

  “Yes, I’ll bet you were. Oh, thank you for joining me at this lounge; it’s on
e of my favorite haunts. Although I’ll bet a honky-tonk or dive bar is more your style, isn’t it?”

  “Hey, free beer is free beer, wherever it is.”

  “Now, why did you want to meet me?”

  “Well, if you didn’t know, I need to get out of town. Lay low. Enforcement thinks I’m dead, and I don’t want them to find out otherwise. Not at least until I get a chance to regroup.”

  “I see. And you plan on regrouping?”

  “Hell yeah! I still plan on taking the House down. But I’ll need your help.”

  “Yes. And what makes you think I should help you? After all, you failed me.”

  “Hey, now, Malheur, there were circumstances beyond my control.”

  “Jack, your excuses are so much bullshit. You failed me. You did not deliver Mr. Campbell or what he has.”

  “Not this time, but I won’t fail you again. What’s the big deal about some stupid old box, anyway?”

  Malheur struck the table. “It is not some ‘stupid old box,’ as you so eloquently put it. It is the box of Huginn and Muninn. And it contains a key. A key I would very much like to have. Mr. Campbell holds this box.”

  “A key? To what?”

  “To power untold, Jack. Power beyond your feeble vampire mind.”

  “Look, I’d really like in on this. If you could give me one more chance, I swear, I won’t fail you again.”

  Malheur sat back in the booth. “I know you won’t, Jack—or at least, you’d better not. No, everything is coming together. I can feel it. The first sign was the coming of the foretold one. The next is the werewolf. Then shall come the box with the key. Then the end shall come. And when it does, Jack, it shall be glorious.”

  Malheur swizzled his drink, then took another sip.

  The Laurelhurst district home that Zed Mitsubishi shared with his sister and her boyfriend was large and old. Despite the fact that it had been updated several times, to bring the wiring and plumbing up to current code and to clear away any remaining asbestos, it still had some quaint, old-fashioned features, primarily an old root cellar. The old cellar did not get much use these days, except for storage. It was deep, largely unfinished, and surrounded by stone walls. The only weak spots were the double wooden doors at the entrance. But Zed fitted a metal grate—easily removable, by human hands—inside the cellar, in front of the doors. The space was now almost perfect for his needs. Zed made sure the grate was securely in place and then went over to the main support pillar, around which a heavy iron chain was looped. He made sure the chain was securely placed around the pillar and then checked the heavy-duty padlocks. They had held before; surely they would hold this time. But since the full moon was almost upon him, it did not pay to take half-measures.