The Crimes of Orphans

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The Crimes of Orphans Page 4

by Obie Williams


  “No, of course not. At times I just wonder what…what God saw in me that made Him decide I was the man for this duty.”

  “You’ll have to take that up with someone holier than me,” the man said, rising to his feet. “I’m no priest.”

  “You do see the irony in you saying that, right?” Michael asked, amused.

  “It’s not lost on me,” the man said. He took a step to leave, then stopped again. “Whatever the reason this thing fell to you—holy or otherwise—I feel I should point out once more that going through with it will throw away countless resources of almost limitless potential. Resources that could be very useful to you as Lord of Chicane.”

  Michael dropped his gaze and was silent for a moment. When he finally looked back up, candlelight reflected in the glassy tears that had filled his eyes. “I have no choice,” he said, barely above a whisper.

  The man just shrugged. “Your money, your call.” And just before disappearing into the shadows towards the rear exit of the chapel, he added, “I won’t contact you again until after the specialist’s job is complete.”

  When Michael was sure the man was gone, he stood and went to his usual spot on the long prayer kneeler that sat facing the pulpit. There, he carefully removed his suit jacket, tie, and shirt, meticulously folding each and stacking them neatly on the cushion next him. Then, from the narrow recess under the kneeler, he retrieved a long willow switch. Though he would receive absolution from Father Francis come morning, he must still carry out his own penance in the manner his mother had taught him. So ingrained were her teachings that he had calculated his punishment within seconds of committing his transgressions. One lash for his loss of patience with a mother and her child, two for neglecting the virtue of charity by not immediately offering care for the child in the mother’s time of need, and five for laying his hand on a woman in anger.

  As Michael carried out his punishment, each sharp smack of the switch across his back was followed almost immediately by the appearance of a reddening weal. But though he had engaged in this form of contrition since before he could remember, he had only a few very faint scars to show for it. On many occasions, he had chided himself for lacking the strength of will to more permanently mark his flesh with proof of his devotion to the Lord.

  Maybe soon, he thought to himself as he put away the switch and gingerly put his clothes back on over his stinging wounds. My will is about to be tested more than it ever has before, so maybe after it will be strong enough.

  He relit his lamp and blew out candles on his way towards the front of the chapel. Pausing at the door, he looked back up towards the altar, its large crucifix nearly imperceptible in the darkness. A brief prayer asking for strength passed noiselessly over his lips, and then he slipped outside into the night.

  V

  Back in Richard’s bedchamber, Amelie laid her head softly on the bed by her father’s side and looked up at him with mournful eyes.

  “What am I going to do without you, Daddy?” she asked, trying to keep herself from crying as she spoke. That was certainly no way for the first-ever Lady of Chicane to act.

  Offering her a reassuring smile, Richard reached over and ran his fingers through her hair. “You are going to do wonderfully, my dear. Don’t you worry.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want to hold an election? Perhaps Charles could run. Surely he would—”

  “No, no child. This is the way it should be. There is too much risk of corruption with an election. I was fortunate to win, but such luck may not happen again. It’s only right for the role to be taken by those who were raised to do it. I believe the time has come for the position to be held by two instead of one, and a woman’s touch would certainly do this city some good.”

  “But I’m still so young, Father,” Amelie said, her voice almost pleading.

  “I see the woman you’re turning into, and she’s going to do great things,” he said tiredly. “You remind me so much of your mother, you know that?” His reminiscence had taken on a melancholy tone, the mark of a man not long for the world.

  She smiled in a sad sort of way at the compliment and looked down at her hands. “But what of Michael? You seem so certain he is right to lead by my side, but sometimes I feel like I barely—”

  “You needn’t worry, my dear. I know that you and Michael have yet to form a bond, but you no doubt will when working so closely together. You are very different people, and I’m not such a fool to think you won’t conflict on a great many things. But with your combined effort, I’m certain you will turn Chicane into the holy land that it was meant to be.”

  “But Father, I—” Amelie began, her eyes starting to glimmer with tears.

  “You will make me proud. Both of you,” Richard whispered as his eyes slowly drifted closed.

  Sighing deeply, Amelie blinked back the tears and once more laid her head by her father’s side. Her hand found his and squeezed it firmly. She wished that if she held on tight enough he might just never leave her. As her own eyes grew heavy, a single thought danced tauntingly across her mind just before slumber dragged her down as well.

  How can I be a leader when I’m barely even a woman?

  THREE

  I

  Lita let out a low whistle as the three approached Rain’s vehicle outside the Red Mare Tavern. “This is one helluva car, Vampire. How’d you two manage to get your hands on it?”

  “Bought it in 1963, the year it was built. Stored it a couple of decades later. Got it out a few years ago,” Rain replied. He unlocked his door and then paused, looking to the two as they went around to the passenger side.

  Lita furrowed her brow as she glanced at Rain’s very human adolescent brother. If he wasn’t lying, then her theory that he had recently become a vampire was out. “You’re saying you stored this thing for almost two centuries and it still looks this good?”

  “We had to do some work on it, but it runs really well now,” Alex said. “Would you like the front or back seat, Lita?”

  “She sits in the back,” Rain said sharply, shooting his brother a look before slipping into the driver’s seat.

  “Back it is,” Lita muttered. She opened the back door and took a seat, plopping her bag down next to her. Alex sighed and found his own spot up front with Rain.

  Lita looked around the interior, marveling over the pristine condition of the black leather seats. “Is everything in this beast original?”

  “Everything but the engine,” Rain replied with a touch of pride in his voice as he brought the car to life. It idled quietly but vibrated enough that it seemed to have some real power under the hood.

  Alex slipped his harness on as the car warmed up, then turned halfway around, craning his neck so he could look at Lita. “You may want to put your seatbelt on.”

  She looked around, then back to him. “There aren’t any back here.”

  “Oh, right,” Alex said and pursed his lips. “Well, I’m sure you’ll be fine. Don’t worry about it.” He turned back around and slipped down in his seat, glancing up at his brother. Rain was staring at the windshield where light droplets of water were beginning to land.

  Suddenly, Rain dropped the car into gear and took off without warning, kicking up chunks of dirt and grass behind the vehicle. Lita felt her neck tense as her back slammed into the seat. She dug her nails into the leather at her sides.

  “Christ, Vampire. We’re not all immortal you know.”

  Rain glanced contemptibly at her in the rearview mirror, but she didn’t see it. She saw nothing, in fact, but an empty driver’s seat in its limited oblong view. She pondered on this, an aspect of their kind she never quite understood. It was on the tip of her tongue to ask, but she fell silent, turning her gaze out the window as rain started slipping down it in rivulets.

  II

  They soon made their way onto a dirt road that passed through the large expanse of woods that blanketed this part of Ayenee. Following their present path forty miles northeast would land them in Mapl
e City. Another thirty miles past that, the road would turn to cobblestone, and Chicane lay five miles further on, its huge expanse coming up flush with the Atlantic on Ayenee’s eastern coast.

  South of The Red Mare wasn’t much to behold. A few small towns and communities here and there, the most notable being Bartle, but even it was barely half the size of Maple City, which was the third largest in Ayenee after Silver City and, of course, Chicane.

  West Ayenee was mostly mountainous, and towns were sparse. There were rumors, though, of a sizeable community on the west slope of Primrose Mountain. It was supposedly a place of peace and kindness, the type that Chicane only pretended to be. The people were said to be solemn, introspective folk. Lita had heard it compared to a place once known as Tibet, and she thought it sounded nice, but also painfully dull.

  The far southeast of the young continent was known only as the Blacklands. It was a place still charred and barren from the bombs of the Last War. Nothing lived there, and no sane soul would ever think to venture that far.

  III

  Lita snapped out of her daze as the sudden sound of rushing wind filled the car. Rain had cracked his window and lit a cigarette.

  “Those things are bad for you, you know,” Lita said.

  Rain glanced over his shoulder briefly, giving her a narrow look.

  “Alright, I suppose not,” she murmured, then tugged her bag over and reached inside. “Well, two vices for one I guess.” She pulled out her bottle of vodka and took a strong chug. Alex looked back as she did, and she held up the bottle to offer some, but he silently declined.

  “So where are you from, Lita?” Alex asked pleasantly, trying to lighten the mood in the car a bit. “What do you do besides tend bar?”

  Lita sneered, “Well, I come from a little shithole tavern where I serve drinks and break up fights. Occasionally I jump into freezing cold lakes to save stupid little boys’ asses. But my favorite thing to do is throw nosey blonds from moving vehicles.”

  Alex frowned and turned back around. Obviously conversation was out of the question. He looked up to see a small smirk on Rain’s face, and he shot him a dirty look.

  After a moment, however, Lita sighed and leaned forward. “Look, I’m not here to make friends. You people were just a matter of convenience. But if we’re trying to kill time, then let’s stay away from the personal and see if I can’t maybe learn something here.” Looking to Rain, she smacked him on the arm. “You. Why don’t you reflect?”

  Rain looked to his arm, then to Lita. “What?”

  Sitting back, she said, “Well, I figure this might be the only time I run into a mildly personable vampire. You know, the kind that doesn’t try to bite you, if there is such a thing. Figure I should learn a bit about them. Give me a leg up next time I have to kill one.”

  “Hmmm,” was all Rain said.

  “So? What’s with the lack of reflection?”

  Rain kept his eyes on the road, not answering her. Alex stared at him for a long moment before finally speaking up himself. “I believe it’s about cosmic balancing of advantages.”

  “What are you talking about, kid?” Lita asked, then took another tug off her bottle.

  Alex turned around to face her better. “Well, vampires have an advantage in that they can look human, disguising themselves to trick their prey. So the universe said, ‘Okay, you can have that, but you don’t get to show up in mirrors. That way humans have a way of figuring you out.’”

  “I suppose that’s as good of an explanation as any. But what’s with the dust thing? Why do they break apart when you take their heads off or put a wooden stake in their heart? And why a wooden stake?”

  “Well, really, any sharp weapon will work if you do enough damage. Wood just works best. Vampires are unnatural creatures, so they can’t handle the natural properties of wood.”

  Lita pondered this a moment, then nodded. “Alright, what about turning into dust?”

  “As I said, vampires are unnatural. The body is just a vessel. It resembles the person it was, even has their memories, but it’s just a creature inside, and a mystical one at that. No conscience. It’s a so…so…” he paused, looking to his brother.

  “Sociopath,” Rain said.

  “Right. A sociopath. Anyway, like most mystical entities, the creature is made of energy. The stake, fire, sunlight, or decapitation releases that energy from the vessel, and the release is so powerful it destroys the body.”

  Lita blinked. She wasn’t easily shocked, but was genuinely surprised at how intelligently Alex spoke for someone his age. If he really was only fourteen, then whoever raised him must have kept him very focused on studies. She glanced over to Rain. “So then what’s your deal? You don’t seem like a sociopath. An asshole, maybe, but not a sociopath.”

  Alex opened his mouth, then looked to Rain.

  “I thought you wanted to keep this non-personal,” Rain said flatly. He paid his brother a glance, and Alex turned back around and slipped down in his seat.

  Lita looked back and forth between the two, then sat back herself. “Fair enough,” she said. She took one last gulp off her bottle before capping it and shoving it back in her bag, then folded her arms over her chest and turned her gaze out the window once more.

  IV

  As they entered the outskirts of Maple City, Lita looked up to see that the rain had stopped and the sky was growing brighter blue with each passing second.

  “You might want to pick up the pace a bit. While the sight of you bursting into flames would be interesting to say the least, I’m not a big fan of fire, and it would be a damn shame to see this car ruined.”

  Rain frowned. “How far from here do you live?”

  “Not far. Another half mile. Take your next right up here.”

  Rain sped up a bit. “We’ll drop you off and find the nearest inn.”

  Lita shook her head. “No good, Vampire.”

  “Stop calling me that.”

  “Well I’ll be inclined to change it to ‘pile of ashes’ if you try to get to an inn. The nearest one is five miles away. You won’t make it before daybreak.”

  “I could put you in the trunk again,” Alex said sympathetically. Rain sighed.

  Lita groaned and pinched the bridge of her nose. “No, no. You two can come up to my place, crash until dusk, dammit.” She honestly wasn’t sure why she was being this charitable. It generally wasn’t in her nature.

  Alex looked over his shoulder at her, surprised. “Are you sure?”

  Lita sighed. “Yeah, it’s fine.”

  Rain reached up and adjusted the rearview mirror so he could see her. “Thank you,” he said. Lita nodded in return.

  Moments later, they pulled up in front of a five-story red brick building. Some parts of Maple City were actually quite nice, reminiscent of late-1950’s Old World construction. This neighborhood was not one of them. A burnt out car sat across the street, and a man was either passed out or dead just up the sidewalk.

  “Pull into that alley on the right up there,” Lita said, pointing past Alex. “There’s an inlet on the left-hand side halfway up. This car should fit, and it’ll keep it out of sight. That is, if you fancy ever seeing it again.”

  Rain followed her directions and parked the car where she said. Getting out quickly, he followed Lita into the alley, holding up a hand and squinting as he looked out towards the street. The sun was creeping their way.

  “Come on,” Lita said, “there’s a back door over here. It’s in the shade.” As they followed her, Alex stayed close to Rain, who looked weakened by this low morning light.

  Slipping through the back door, they entered what appeared to be the rear part of a lobby, hidden in darkness behind a winding staircase. Rain sighed and leaned against a wall.

  “You alright?” Alex asked.

  Rain nodded. “Fine. Just need rest.”

  “This way,” Lita said as she approached a doorway under the staircase. It had a large metal grating over it and she slid this open, th
en stepped into the cramped metal box inside. Rain followed, but Alex hung back, eyeing the device warily.

  Seeing his hesitation, Rain said, “Alex, it’s alright. It’s just an elevator. I’ve told you about them before.”

  “How sheltered is he?” Lita whispered, but Rain ignored her.

  Alex took a couple of steps forward, looking over the box curiously. “It works on pulleys, with counterweights, right?”

  Rain looked to the large lever that stuck up from the floor, on which Lita’s hand was resting. “Yes. This one’s a very old design. It doesn’t run on electricity.” Alex finally nodded his approval and stepped inside. Shrugging off the interaction, Lita slammed the gate shut and pulled the lever. The car shuddered as they began their ascent.

  “It only gets stuck sometimes,” she said with a wry smile. Alex swallowed hard.

  A single chime of a bell announced their arrival to each floor. On the third such chime, denoting the fourth floor, Lita pushed the lever forward, bringing the elevator to a halt. She snatched up her bag and pulled the gate open. Alex was the first one out. Though the mechanics of the device intrigued him greatly, he didn’t like putting his faith in any machine whose inner-workings he hadn’t seen with his own eyes. Lita motioned to Rain and he exited next, with her taking up the rear.

  They made their way down the hallway, which was dimly lit by small oil lamps attached to the wall between each door. At the second door on the left, a red one marked 406, Lita paused to fish a key from her bag. Rain sighed tiredly and leaned against the wall next to the door.

  Finally seizing upon her key, Lita jammed it into the lock. The deadbolt groaned as it turned, then the door creaked in its own way, crying out their arrival as she opened it.

  “Home sweet home,” she muttered as she stepped into the complete darkness inside the apartment. “Come on in. It’s not much, but there’s a spare bed. You two will just have to cuddl—” Lita froze two steps into the apartment. With impressive speed, she drew her handgun and pointed it at the nearly imperceptible figure of a person sitting on the couch that faced the front door. “Show yourself!” she commanded.

 

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