by L. M. Justus
“You know what? That sucks. That really sucks,” I said, feeling more dejected by the second. “How long are they going to leave us in here anyway? Are they going to bring us something to eat?”
A minute of silence ticked by, and I was starting to wonder if Nathaniel had given up answering my questions. Eventually, he spoke again. “You will no longer be able to consume human food,” he said. “I’m sorry.”
“This deal is getting worse all the time,” I muttered under my breath.
Suddenly, the door to the room opened with a loud creak, and the two guards from upstairs strode into the room: good old Abe Lincoln and his buddy, the tall black guy, aka the only vampire I’d seen so far without disgustingly pale skin. I guess hundreds of years of zero sun exposure would make just about anyone’s skin look pale.
Abe tapped some buttons on the small panel in the wall near the door. A numerical code maybe? The door to my cell clicked and then hissed open, sliding outwards and to the side. I stood up and held my breath.
“Follow me,” Abe said and turned to exit the room.
I felt uncertain, but leaving the cell had to be at least one step closer to freedom, didn’t it? I stepped out of the cell, carefully avoiding coming into contact with the bars and silver mesh. “What about him?” I asked, indicating Nathaniel, who watched us with no visible emotion on his face.
Abe started climbing the narrow stairwell, obviously expecting me to follow without argument. As I fell into step behind him, I was still waiting for someone to answer me. The door clanged shut behind us, and the two vampires continued up the stairs, boxing me in. Still no answer. I guessed they were choosing to ignore me.
We emerged through the door at the top of the stairs into the large chamber with the throne. It was even darker than before and the sounds of our footsteps echoed off the cavernous walls. A quick glance around confirmed the room was now deserted. I couldn’t resist my morbid sense of curiosity, checking the floor to see if our severed fingers were there, but all the evidence had been cleared away.
Abe marched across the room, and I followed him. We entered the long hallway with several closed doors down both sides. Now I knew we were only a single stairwell’s worth of stairs away from freedom. What if I made a dash for it? If the sun were up, they wouldn’t be able to follow me. I checked my watch, and it was just after four in the morning. Too early for the sun. By now, Abe had stopped anyway, and he opened one of the doors, gesturing for me to go inside.
It looked harmless enough: a smallish room with gray walls, no windows, a table and two chairs, and a single overhead light. A black duffle bag sat on the floor next to the table, but other than that, the room was bare. I stepped inside, and sat in one of the chairs when the black guy pointed to it. Abe left, closing the door behind him, leaving me with alone with the other vampire.
“So, what’s your name?” I asked, trying not to think about what was in the duffle bag. Maybe if I could get this guy to make a little small talk, he’d realize I was a nice, normal guy and he’d be less inclined to cut off my fingers and stuff.
“Dominic,” he answered in a deep baritone voice and hefted the bag onto the table.
I tore my gaze away from the bag to check out the door and see if I could tell if it was locked. “Dominic, I see. And what about the other guy?” I tried to get him to keep talking, but he didn’t seem very conversational.
“That was Anthony,” Dominic replied. I’d better be careful not to call him Abe by mistake then, I thought. Pissing these guys off was probably a bad idea. “Try to relax, Reed. I know you’re thinking of escaping, but you will never make it past the front door. I’m not going to hurt you. I’m just here to give you your first assignment.”
“Oh, right . . . okay,” I said, sinking back into my seat a little bit, not really relaxing. “Assignment?”
Dominic broke into a grin, apparently finding me somewhat amusing. I hoped this wasn’t a bad sign because the last vampire that had smiled at me had then proceeded to cut off my finger. Dominic’s smile reached his eyes though, so I was hopeful.
“This should be a simple, straightforward assignment,” he said while unzipping the duffle bag. He reached inside and pulled out a map, spreading it on the table between us. “You’re to take the city bus to this location marked here,” he said, pointing to a red dot that was drawn in. “We’ll provide you with bus fare of course. The building you’re going to is at this address,” he said. He placed a photograph of a building in front of me. The address was written at the bottom of the photo. It looked like a plain old apartment complex, nothing out of the ordinary.
“You’re going to change into the uniform we’ve provided inside this bag when you get there. Then you’ll find apartment 2B and knock to see if the occupant is home. If not, you’ll proceed inside using this key,” he said, dangling a key in front of me before dropping it back into the bag. “If the occupant is home, you’ll tell them you’re there to install an upgrade to the ventilation system, which is being installed in every unit inside the apartment building, and it will only take three or four minutes.”
Next, he pulled out a floor plan and placed it in front of me. “There’s a ventilation grate located here,” he said, tapping the small X marked on the plan. “You’ll remove the grate, and install this device like so,” he continued, pulling a small gadget from the bag. He used a screwdriver from the bag to unscrew a grate from the wall of the room to demonstrate.
After Dominic finished his demonstration, he placed everything back into the bag, including the device, which he’d removed after he’d ‘installed’ it. It looked like he’d just hung it off the back of the grate.
I wondered if there was anything else. “So . . . do I get to ask what the device is?”
“No, you don’t need that information,” he replied, zipping up the bag. “Do you have any other questions?”
It seemed like a straightforward job all right. Almost too straightforward. I had the sinking suspicion the ‘device’ was some sort of bomb, but I knew absolutely zilch about explosives. “Who lives in the unit where I’m supposed to install this thing?”
“Just a cop, but that doesn’t really matter. As soon as the sun comes up, you can leave,” he said and moved to open the door.
Just a cop? Great. After I’d stepped foot out of this hell hole, forget the stupid assignment. I was going to hightail it as far away from here as possible!
“Oh, and one more thing, Reed,” Dominic said, turning to me. “If you don’t return, we will hunt you down, and Nathaniel will be seriously ill-treated until we retrieve you, at which point you will be punished most thoroughly. And best to make it back here before nightfall, otherwise you may be killed by another vampire because that is standard procedure when newlings are encountered without a chaperone.”
Damn. I wondered how he could say that kind of thing as calmly as though he was telling me the weather forecast. Did I even care if they hurt Nathaniel? I hated that guy! Or did I? Damn, again. I guess that’s what Nathaniel meant when he said they would use people against you, and it’s not like they could use my family against me now. I realized with a start I’d been so distracted by all the drama from the last several hours I hadn’t even thought of my family until just this moment. My brain felt like it was going to explode.
Sarah
Where was that damn hair elastic? The good white one: the only one that managed to keep her hair in a ponytail all day. Sarah scrabbled through all the junk in the top drawer of her bedroom dresser to find the darn thing so she could finish getting ready for work. Being late on her tenth day of work, not that she was counting, would be really lousy.
Oh, there! Found it. She grabbed the elastic and finger-combed her stubborn golden-brown hair into a ponytail. She stood in front of the mirror and held her hair up in one hand, the elastic in the other. She realized for the umpteenth time how the ponytail made her look at least five years younger.
She changed her facial expression to a ster
n, no-nonsense glare. Well, at least her pants suit helped her look like she meant business.
A knock at the door interrupted her inner musings, and she let her hair fall back down around her shoulders with a sigh.
“Just a sec,” she called. She walked to the door of her apartment and opened it.
A handsome young man dressed in work overalls stood waiting, holding a black duffle bag. He was about six feet tall, with light brown hair, and brilliant blue eyes. Early twenties she’d guess, maybe younger. His mouth dropped open slightly as he took her in from head to toe.
A woman? You idiot! Of course, cops can be women. And really freaking gorgeous!
Sarah’s mouth twitched. After a lifetime of hearing all kinds of thoughts that she wasn’t meant to, it was easy to disguise her telepathy. She knew she was a freak of nature. No need for anyone else to know.
“Can I help you?” she asked.
The young man wiped his face with one hand and cleared his throat before replying. “Uh, yeah. I mean, yes! Yes, I’m here to install an upgrade for your ventilation system.” He gave her a faltering grin.
“Sorry, I’m not interested. Thanks any–”
“No, wait . . . wait!” he said, taking a breath. “It’s a standard upgrade we’re installing in every unit of the building. You don’t have to pay for it or anything. It’ll only take three or four minutes to do, tops.”
Relaxing, Sarah stepped back and held the door open further. “Okay, Mike. I’m going to hold you to your three or four minutes though because I have to go to work.”
“Mike?” the man asked in surprise.
“That’s what it says,” Sarah replied, pointing to his chest.
“Oh,” he said, after a quick glance down at the name patch on the front of his overalls. “These aren’t mine . . . I just borrowed them for today. My name’s Reed.”
“Ah, I see,” she said.
She watched him brush past her and march across her living room, skirting the modern black coffee table between the matching black leather couches. He dropped his duffle bag on the floor near the wall under the window. Then he crouched down, unzipped the bag and pulled out a screwdriver.
Satisfied he didn’t need any further assistance, she went to stand in front of the mirror on the other side of the room, next to the entrance of her small kitchen. After raking her hair back into a ponytail once again, she secured the elastic and pulled it tight. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Reed watching her.
Idiot! she heard him think when he turned away. She didn’t bother suppressing her smile. While she tried not to read people’s thoughts on purpose, to respect their privacy, sometimes she couldn’t help ‘overhearing’ things.
Her hair done, she finished her preparations slipping her sidearm into the holster hidden under her suit jacket. She strolled over and leaned on the side of her couch, the leather squeaking beneath her. Reed froze.
He looked up at her. “Uh . . . you can continue getting ready or whatever . . . don’t worry about me,” he said.
Sarah shrugged. “I’m done. I figured that maybe I’d learn a thing or two from you about ventilation systems. Honestly, I’m a little curious to know how you upgrade it by installing something behind the vent. Can I see that device?” She held her hand out.
“Um . . . I’m not sure that’s such a good idea . . . it’s kinda fragile. It would be really bad if it broke,” Reed said, moving the device further away from her.
Time to practice her stern face. “Hand it over,” she stated firmly.
Reed swallowed. Sarah wondered if she should delve into his mind to figure out what he was up to. She didn’t like invading people’s privacy like that, but it was becoming clear he was up to something.
He held out the device, handing it over with obvious reluctance. With a jolt of surprise, she recognized what it was. “Do you know what this is?” she asked him.
After a moment of hesitation, he replied with a genuine look of pure innocence on his face. “No. They only told me how to install it,” he muttered, looking at the floor.
“It just so happens that I’m a cop,” she said, her anger building. “And I do know what this is. This device is for transmitting audio and visual information. In other words, it’s a bug.”
Oh . . . shit!
She snorted as she heard that thought loud and clear. No kidding, you little sneak, she thought. Sarah stood up and unsnapped the holster of her sidearm. She pulled out the gun and released the safety in one swift, practiced motion.
“Now, here’s what’s going to happen,” she said, enunciating every word. “Slowly . . . very slowly, stand up,” she demanded. “No sudden moves.”
His eyes wide, he didn’t look away from the gun she pointed at him. He stood up and raised his hands.
“Good. Now move over to your right, and park your butt on my couch. Then you can tell me why the hell you’re planting a bug in my apartment.”
“Oh my God, I’m in so much trouble!” Reed mumbled. He shuffled to stand in front of the couch. He glanced at the door, clearly contemplating escape. And Nathaniel too! What am I supposed to do now?
“Park your sorry ass down,” Sarah barked at him. “Don’t even think about running. And who’s Nathaniel?”
A quick blur, a small whoosh of air, and the next thing Sarah knew she was pointing the gun at her empty living room.
What the hell?
Her door flapping open caught her attention. She tried to understand what had just happened and raced to the door, threw it open and dashed into the hallway. She looked to the left and then the right, but the hallway was deserted. Undaunted, she sprinted towards the stairwell, opened the door, and scanned the area up and down. Nothing. Not even the sound of retreating footsteps. How on earth had he vanished into thin air?
Shoulders slumped, she returned to her apartment feeling baffled. She closed the door behind her and locked it. The duffle bag was still on the floor, so she crossed the room and knelt down beside it to inspect the contents. A map, with her building marked on it, a set of keys, a photo of her building, and a floor plan of her apartment. Plus the screwdriver on the floor and the discarded bug sitting on the side table next to the couch. No identifying information whatsoever.
How the hell had he gotten all these things? She probably should have called 9-1-1. She definitely should have dug into his mind for some clues. Too late now, she thought. She’d bring this stuff in as evidence, but she had a feeling she might never find out what Reed had been up to, if that was even his real name. Boy, she’d been a sucker for those innocent-looking baby blues. Damn!
Reed
What a colossal screw-up, I thought, as I plopped down on a worn wooden bench across the road from a gas station. There were quite a few people milling about downtown San Jose, stopping in at the local café, window shopping, or entering one of the shiny glass high-rise buildings. Just business as usual for the rest of the world.
I had high-tailed it out of that woman’s apartment as fast as my vampire legs could carry me, which was pretty damn fast. No doubt she was wondering what the hell had happened. I didn’t know what to do now. I was so dead. Worse than dead probably.
I watched a dark green Chevy sedan turn into the gas station and park off to the side of the pumps. A middle-aged guy got out and sprinted into the convenience shop. He left the car running, probably planning to buy a pack of cigarettes or something. I had one of those crazy thoughts like when you imagine yourself climbing over a balcony railing and jumping, or swerving into oncoming traffic on purpose. The kind of thought you never actually follow through on, but you scare yourself for having thought it at all.
Something inside me snapped. I was desperate, and for the first time ever, I acted on the impulse. I dashed across the street to the idling car. Almost as if someone else was in control of my body, I opened the car door and jumped in. I put the car in reverse, backed up, and drove away. I was already in so much trouble; it couldn’t get any worse, could it?
>
I wasn’t very familiar with San Jose, although I had visited both San Jose and San Fran a couple of times. I also didn’t drive very much, because I took a bus to school or hitched a ride. Hopefully, I could figure out how to get on Highway 101. Then I’d be set.
I headed south and found signs for the 101 right away. Before I knew it, I was on my way home, or to what was left of my home.
Less than two hours later, I turned up the gravel driveway in my stolen car to the charred remains of my house. I brought the car to a stop and stepped out. As I walked toward the front door, the only sound that broke the silence was my footsteps crunching on the driveway.
The fields of our avocado farm remained untouched by the fire. The cattle smell from our neighbor’s property combined with the stench of ashes and soot. The house wasn’t burnt down to the foundation; enough of the blackened skeleton remained that the overall structure was still there, although the roof was gone. The place was deserted and yellow police tape marked the perimeter.
Who knew if and when people would return to investigate further? No amount of investigating would reveal the truth though, unless I told my story. I wondered what would happen if I did. Or what if I waltzed into my school and sat down in calculus class to announce my new status as the local vampire?
I stepped gingerly through the former front door and scoped out what was left of our possessions. Pretty much everything was burnt beyond recognition. I moved further into the entryway and took a tentative step on the first stair leading to the second floor. The staircase didn’t seem like it would fall apart, so I continued up. I found one of my sister’s hairbrushes melted into a plastic bottle of hairspray like an abstract piece of modern art. After several more minutes of searching, I discovered the ultimate treasure in my parents’ room: a photograph frame that lay face down on the dresser. The frame itself was worse for wear, but by some miracle, the picture inside was still in relatively good condition. A family photo, taken this past summer at the zoo during our trip to LA. I removed the photo from the frame, and stuffed it carefully into the back pocket of my jeans.