Cash from the state police to call."
"About what?"
"Pare Frye. I told him she was kidnapped here in town, in front of her mother, that we found her shoes in a ditch, but the Elvis bit threw him off, and he's insisting that we expand the search statewide."
"What about the FBI? Do they know?"
"They know and they don't care."
Rich shrugged. "I don't suppose we can talk to them about vampires, can we?"
"I'm not bringing it up."
Rich sat down in the chair in front of his brother's desk, turning his body sideways and draping his legs over the chair arms. "We'll have a late lunch, then. We'll go after he calls. Sue said they'd be there all afternoon." "The old lady knows we're coming?" "I guess."
Robert leaned back in his chair, tapped a pencil on his knee. "I was thinking. Maybe Wheeler's on to something.
Maybe this is the Second Coming."
"What is this horse shit?"
"Things are supposed to get bad before Jesus returns. Read your Revelations."
"Come on. You're no churchgoer and neither am I." Robert shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "I'm not saying I believe it. But one of my officers pointed it out to me the other day. He goes to Wheeler's church."
"Jesus--"
"Exactly."
Rich looked at his brother and both of them laughed, the spell broken.
"Okay, I don't believe it," Robert admitted. "But I can't help thinking that these two things are connected, the vampire and Wheeler's Second Coming. Who knows?
Maybe Wheeler does know something we don't." "Shit."
"People are seeing dead rock stars and dead child molesters and vampires. That's not the normal course of events."
"Wheeler doesn't know his ass from a porkpie hal Even though I don't go to church, I think there is something after we die. Some sort of afterlife. But I don't think it can be understood by us. And the idea that the nature of God can be fully understood by a semiliterate Neanderthal like Wheeler... I just don't buy it."
"Oh, but you think your part-time employee's grandma does possess the secrets of the universe."
"What is it with you? What do you have against Sue?" "Nothing."
"It doesn't seem that way to me."
"That's just because you want to pork her."
[ Rich swung his legs off the chair and stood. "I don't have to listen to this."
"Oh, get off your high horse. Can't you even take a joke?"
"That wasn't a joke." "Okay, I'm sorry." "Yeah. Right."
Robert stared at his brother for a moment, then nervously cleared his throat. "I heard laughing last night, Rich." Rich glanced toward the window, not responding. "I heard the Laughing Man."
"No, you didn't." Rich shifted in his chair, looked at his brother. "I know this is some pretty scary shit, but..."
"But what."
"Look, there's no such thing as the Laughing Man, okay? Just drop it.
That's kid stuff. And it's not going to help us out here."
"Kid stuff? You saw him too, Richie. You saw him when
Morn died. You heard him."
"No, I didn't."
"The hell you didn't. Who was that then, huh? Who did we see out there?"
"Look, we were both under a lot of stress."
"We saw the Laughing Man. You know it and I know it." Robert stood.
"And I heard him again last night." "Bullshit."
"Oh. You believe in vampires, but you don't believe in the Laughing Man. You're picking and choosing your monsters, huh?"
"We have bodies that have been drained of blood. We have no proof of the Laughing Man."
"We have me. I saw him. I heard him."
"Medusa Syndrome," Rich said, looking straight at his brother.
"That's not it." ....... "No? It was when Emily saw Elvis steal her daughter. It was when Mike was living in a septic tank. It was when Sophocles Johnson was making underwear clothes."
"It's not the same."
"It's exactly the same."
"Fuck you." The phone rang, two rings, an outside call, and Robert reached over and picked up the receiver. "Carter." He glared at Rich.
"Yes," he said. "Yes." He put his hand over the mouthpiece. "It's Cash."
Rich nodded disgustedly. "Fine." He walked outside to wait in the hall.
The old lady was nothing like he thought she would be. Robert didn't know what he'd expected--a wise, saintly Buddha-esque guru, he supposed, or maybe a smug condescending know-it-all--but he had definitely not been prepared for this mild old woman who sat on an overturned plastic bucket shelling peas.
She looked like a turtle, he thought. Her face was wrinkled her almond-shaped eyes unblinking, and her small fragile head looked as though it could be recessed into her body on its retractable neck. She spoke no English at all beyond the word "Hi," and all communication was directed through Sue, who translated for both sides, but Robert was surprised at how much respect he immediately had for this old lady.
There was something in her soft, almost musical voice, in the matter-of-fact way in which she continued to shell the peas as she spoke, that gave him a feeling of confidence in her. When he looked over at Rich, he could tell from his brother's expression that he felt the same way. Sue's parents had ignored them as they'd walked through the kitchen to the back of the restaurant, continuing their cooking chores as though nothing out of the ordinary was happening, as though this sort of thing occurred all the time. Robert found himself wondering if they knew about the vampire at all, or if this was some thing between grandmother and granddaughter.
Rich did most of the talking asking questions and writing down the answers in his little notebook, but finally the old lady turned to face him. She said something to Sue, and the young woman translated. "She wants to know why Pee Wee Nelson is not with you. She calls him the 'tall man." "
Robert shrugged. "Should he be here?"
"My grandmother wants him to make baht gwa, a mirror. She says we need it to right the cup hugirngsi." Sue paused. "She dreamed of Pee Wee the other night."
Robert didn't know what dreaming about Pee Wee had to do with anything, but he knew enough not to say so. "What kind of mirror is it?" he asked.
"A mirror with eight sides." Sue spoke rapidly in Chiand the old lady nodded, tracing an octagon in the nese, air.
"You want us to bring him over here?"
Sue spoke again in Chinese; again the old lady nodded. "Yes."
"Does she know where the vampire is? Does she want to... ride around with us? We can take her to the spots where he struck, where he killed people. Maybe she can get some vibes or something from that."
Sue translated, and the grandmother smiled, revealing small stained teeth. She spoke rapidly to her granddaughter, and at length. "It does not work that way," Sue explained. "Di Lo Ling Gum does not depend on the material world. It does not matter where she is. She can learn as much sitting here as she can seeing the bodies of the dead. When she is to know the cup hugirngsi's lair; it will be revealed to her."
"Isn't there any way to, push it along?"
Sue shook her head. "I already asked her that. She says no."
"So more people could die?" "More people will die."
"And there's nothing we can do?"
"Tell them to protect themselves. Tell them to wear jade. Tell them to place willow branches on their doors and windows."
"But there's no way to know where he will strike again?"
Sue translated, her grandmother answered, and she shook her head.
"No."
"Will you come with us to the town council meeting on Thursday?" Rich asked. "Will you tell this to the council, so we can come up with some type of civil defense measures?"
This time, Sue did not even have to ask her grand mother. "Yes," she said. "We'll come."
Corrie sat in her car across the street from Taco Bell, looking through the front windows at Rich and that slut, sitting across from each other at one of the tab
les and eating. Jesus had been right. Rich was slipping it to that Oriental whore. No wonder he'd been so eager to get rid of her, to pack her off to a new job so he could set up his little teaching scare and pick up a young bimbo.
Of course Jesus had been right, she told herself. Could
Jesus ever be wrong?
No.
She knew that now.
But there had been some doubt. What interest could the Son of God possibly have in the minutiae of ordinary lives like hers and Rich's?
Why would He spend His valuable time playing fortune-teller for her when He could be ending world hunger and revealing the cure for cancer?
It was blasphemy to think that way.
She stared at the Taco Bell window. Behind the hot pink words painted on the glass that advertised the "Fiesta Deal," she saw Rich laugh, nod. In her mind, she saw him going down on her, burying his face between her legs and licking her wet pussy while the slut moaned and thrashed beneath him, her slitty eyes closed in ecstasy.
He would pay for his adultery.
And she would definitely pay. Jesus hated chinks. He had reserved a special place in hell for those slant-eyed heathens. And there was no way the Son of God would tolerate this sort of harlotry in the town of His rebirth.
Corrie smiled to herself. A month ago, a week ago even, if she had learned of her husband's unfaithfulness, it would have devastated her. tut she was stronger now. The Lord had given her strength.
Let them do what they wanted. Let them consort in public. Let them fuck in the middle of the street for all she cared.
She would have the last laugh.
I Jesus would see to that.
She took her hands off the steering wheel, pressed them together, closed her eyes, and began to pray.
The Rio Verde Town Council met on the third Thurs day of every month.
More than one council member over the past few years had tried to get the meeting day switched from Thursday to Tuesday since Thursday was a good night for TV. But the mayor, who owned Desert Ac cess Gable, and Councilman Jones, who was the manager of Radio Shack, had always successfully defeated such efforts, citing tradition and stating that if an individual believed that television was more important than town business, then that person did not belong on the council.
The two men also mentioned at each of these junctures that, if desired, shows could be videotaped and watched at a more convenient time.
With VCRs and blank tapes purchased from Radio Shack, Rich had always thought, and though he'd never said a word about it, he had stored that idea away as the basis for a future editorial.
Tonight, though, the meeting concerned nothing so frivolous.
Tonight they were here to talk about vampires.
For the first time since the water-rate increase controversy two years back, the council chambers were filled, although this time the mood was tense, the room over flowing with frightened people who ordinarily had no interest in civic affairs. Townspeople filled all of the extra seats, and the crowd spilled outside to the front of the building where a large group had gathered to listefi to the proceedings through the door. Most of the people, Rich noticed, looked tired, nervous, on edge. He saw homemade crosses hanging around necks, smelled garlic mixed with sweat.
In addidon to the mayor, council, and town manager, the leaders of most of the churches were here, as were most of the members of the Chamber of Commerce, including Hollis and several of his cronies. Rich sat between Robert and Sue, who was seated next to her father and grandmother. In the audience he could see the FBI agent and the guy from the state police.
"I should've prepared something," Sue said. "I hate talking in front of crowds. I'm going to freeze up."
"You may not even have to talk at all," Rich told her. "We'll see how things go. Robert has some prepared statements, so do I, if we need them, and if that's not enough to convince people, we may ask your grandmother some questions so they can get it from the horse's mouth.
Basically you'll just be a translator."
Robert leaned behind his brother and addressed Sue. "Don't forget, we already have a head start. People read your story in the paper. That already gives us some legitimacy."
Sue nodded and said nothing.
The meeting was called to order, and in a frayed and worried voice Mayor Tillis announced that the usual reading of the minutes would not take place today so that they could proceed directly to the matter at hand.
He looks old, Rich thought. Old and scared. "We're here to talk about vampires," the mayor said. He scanned the room, waiting and prepared for a reaction, but there was none. No one smiled, no one laughed, no one spoke. There was only a hushed and fearful silence. "We will hear from our police chief," the mayor said. "Robert Carter." "
Robert stood. "Thank you."
He began with the discovery of Manuel Torres's body and Donna Sandoval's assertion that she saw Tortes walking with Caldwell Burke, and continued through to the abduction of Pare Frye, spelling out the events clearly and
In' chronologically. He mentioned the expert opinion of
Woods, who nodded in agreement, and went into just enough detail on the murders to let people know what they were dealing with.
Rich glanced over at the FBI agent and the state policeman, to see how they were reacting to this. Both had been invited by Robert to the meeting, but neither had been told in advance what exactly was going to be discussed. The state policeman was openly smirking, feeling smugly superior to the rural bumpkins surrounding him, but the FBI agent had no smile on his face. He appeared to be genuinely interested in what was being said.
Rich fried that in his mind for later.
Robert put down the paper from which he'd been reading. "Hard as it may be for us to believe, we have a vampire here in Rio Verde. I know such things aren't supposed to exist, and two months ago I would've bet my bottom dollar that they didn't, but I believe now that they do. And that's why I wanted to speak today. One is here. And it is killing people. Our people. I think we need to figure out a strategy for dealing with this creature, for protecting ourselves from it and killing it."
Matt Calderon raised his hand and began speaking in a too-high voice even before the mayor nodded toward him. "Why don't we feed him someone with AIDS?" Calderon asked. "We could test everyone, maybe find someone staying at the ranch, and when he bites into that AIDS blood, that'll be the end of him."
"Vampires don't get diseases," the mayor said. "They're already dead.
That's a nitwit idea."
Hollis stood and began to speak, though he had not been recognized.
"There are no such things as vampires," he said. "I wish you'd all stop--"
He was drowned out by the loud sound of angry disagreement from the assembled crowd. "If there's no vampires, who killed Terry Clifford?" someone asked. "I saw one!" Buford exclaimed from the back. "Me too" someone else echoed.
The mayor pointed at Hollis. "Sit down," he said. "We're not here to debate the existence of vampires. That's something all of us except you seem to agree on. We're here to decide how to protect ourselves against them. How to kill them, if possible."
The questions came fast and furious. Where did the vampire live? What did it look like? How old was it? Had any of the victims become vampires themselves? Robert answered as best he could. ' "How are we going to kill him?" Buford asked. ""That's the main thing we need to know. Silver bullet? Stake?" "Yeah!" someone said, "Stake him!"
Robert glanced over at Sue. She took a deep breath, nodded. "I'll let Sue Wing tell you about that," he said.
Sue stood. She was isibly nervous, her hands trembling, but she nodded to the mayor and the council, then turned to face Buford. "What you call a vampire, we call a cup hugirngsi in my culture. It's basically the same thing, but the difference is that we do not believe that the cup hugrngsi has anything to do with Christianity. It is not a monster that preys only on the members of one religion. It kills anyone. It kills animals. It even kills plants.
It exists and it has always existed, and that's why the symbols of Christianity won't stop it. You can't use holy water or crosses like you can in the movies. Jade--"
A tall cowboy standing next to the door smiled patronizingly at Sue. "I read that article too, and, no offense, babe, but what we got here's an American vampire."
Lee Hillman nodded. "This thing's a bloodsucker, not a rice eater."
There was a chorus of good-natured chuckles.
Sue felt the blood rush to her face, her cheeks burning with anger.
"Listen, you ignorant redneck, s--"
"There's no call to use language like that," the mayor said sternly.
"This isn't a game!" Sue said. "Don't you realize that?"
"I don't know who you think you are---" Councilman Waiters began.
Pee Wee stood, his frame dwarfing all those around him. "Let her speak," he said, and the argument quieted down. He nodded toward Sue.
"Go on."
"What you've seen in the movies is wrong. The cup hug/rngsi doesn't care about Christian symbols. It was around long before Christianity.
But it is afraid of jade. It can be hurt by the wood of the willow tree. It can be turned back with the baht gwa, amirror with eight sides. These are what you need to be arming yourselves with." She looked around the room, saw hostility on some faces, indifference on others, interest on only a few. "We can kill it," she said, and she purposely made her voice softer, more sympathetic. "But until we do, you need to protect yourselves and your loved ones. My parents have a willow tree. I think a few of you ranchers have some too. Use the branches to make spears. Wear jade or carry it with you. Do not go out at night."
Rich nodded. "If we just behave sensibly, if we just act on what we know, we can get through this thing."
"How did a Chinese vampire get all the way over here in America?"
Councilman Jones asked suspiciously.
"They brought him!" a woman yelled. "Her family brought him with them!"
"There's no such thing as a "Chinese' vampire," Sue said. "There are only cup hugirngsis. They're the same everywhere."
"Then how come your stuff works against him, and ours doesn't?" a man called out.
"I don't know," Sue said patiently. "Information gets changed over the years, over the miles. Somehow you got the information wrong. It's like that kid's game where you start a message at one end of a room and whisper it to the person next to you, and by the time it gets to the other end of the room, it's screwed up." She looked down at her grandmother, placed a hand on the old woman's shoulder. "We know about these things because our culture is thousands of years old. And continuous. We've learned a few things over the centuries. America is only a couple of hundred years old."
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