by Nigel Henry
The way I see it, I've got two options: I can climb up to the fire escape and risk running into Dracula again, or I can bolt out of this alley and try to outrun a gaggle of police.
Shit.
Shit.
Shit.
I run out into the street, heading away from the cops and back toward my car. Of course, I can't go to it; last thing I need is them getting the license plate number. That means I'm going to have to get away on foot. That always works in the movies, right?
I'm running full blast down the middle of the street when I hear the first shouts.
"POLICE! FREEZE!"
"Shit Murphy, we've got a body here!"
"Call an ambulance! I'll get the runner!"
So by my count, I've got two officers tailing me, with the third staying behind. That means I've only gotta lose two. That's doable. Maybe.
I cut down Wadsworth Avenue and start trying to form a plan. I need to get away from this area, the police precinct is too close and this place will be swarming with cops in no time. There aren't any big parks nearby, so I can't shake them there. That leaves the subways. If I can get to a train station, I might have a chance.
I can already hear the first siren somewhere nearby as I pull open my phone and tap the button to call Inspector Perkins. His voice sounds panicked as he picks up.
"Ria, what the hell is going on there? There's chatter all over the radio."
"Can't talk about it now," I say between breaths. "Just meet me at 125th street! Bring some wheels!"
"How are you going to get down there?"
"Leave that to me! Gotta go not get arrested! Bye!"
Bystanders are starting to gather as I tear into a big intersection on 181st street. The sirens are louder now, and I see the first cop car pull around the corner. Shit, gotta keep moving.
The George Washington Bridge comes into view on my right, and I see the first sign for the subway station underneath it. It's a couple of blocks away. I can make it.
I'm at the end of the block when a big, muscular man steps in my path. Great, a Good Samaritan. They're useful when you need to catch a fleeing bad guy, not so useful when the fleeing bad guy is you.
He reaches out for me, and I twist and punch him in the balls before kneeing him in the face. He drops like a rock and I keep moving. Can't help but feel bad for him. He was only trying to help, and I can assume that's the last time he'll ever try again.
The subway station pulls into view. I dash down the steps and find myself inside a large, dirty, bus terminal. Passengers are milling about, waiting for their rides out of the city, and I try to blend in, pulling my hoodie back up and keeping my head down as I try to make my way to the subway.
Police burst down the steps a minute after I do, and they're pushing their way through the crowd. I pick up the pace, moving through quickly, but not fast enough to draw attention. I reach the subway entrance and head down another flight of stairs and finally find myself on the platform just as the train pulls into the station. I can get on if I hurry and play it cool.
I'm at the turnstile when I hear the robot announcer tell passengers to stay clear of the closing doors, and I hear the cops shouting behind me.
Screw it, cool time's over.
I hop the turnstile and bolt onto the train just as the doors close. I hear hands bang on the door a moment later, but thankfully the train begins to pull into the tunnel. I don't bother to look back as we leave; no sense in giving the cops a free look at my face.
I get off after two stops, knowing the police will be all over the train if I stay on any longer. I keep playing it cool as I exit to the surface. The train took me out to 145th Street and, oh hey, there's a police precinct at the south end of the subway station. Thankfully, there's multiple exits, so I'm able to get out on the northern end without being spotted. From there, it's pretty easy to slink around side streets until I get to 125th Street.
Inspector Perkins is waiting for me on 125th and Morningside Avenue, and I say nothing as I slide into the passenger seat of his unmarked squad car.
"What the hell happened up there?" he asks.
"Let's just say that New York got a whole lot more complicated."
FOURTEEN
"YOU CAME ACROSS A WHAT?"
My father's face is a mixture of surprise and horror as he questions me on the living room sofa. My mother isn't saying anything, she's just hugging me closely. Perkins is sitting in the recliner across from us.
My parents were waiting up for us when Perkins got me home, and the looks on their faces said they'd already heard the news.
"I told you, it was a vampire. Same as you see in the movies. Pale, strong, fangs, taste for blood, the works."
"But how is that possible? We've been doing this for years and we've never come across one."
"I guess they just got sick of hiding with their good friend Nessie and decided it was time to see the world," I reply.
"And you fought it?" My mother says, her voice strained. "What we're you thinking? We don't know anything about vampires. You could've been killed!"
"Hey, it's not like I walked around looking for a fight. I was just trying to get back to my car. He was the one standing in my way, drinking another human's blood."
"Just heard back from dispatch," Perkins chimes in. "The Jane Doe Ria came across is dead. Her neck was torn open. A couple of people said they saw a black male in a hoodie running away from the scene. I don't think anyone will be able to ID Ria."
"Oh come on," I groan. "I don't look like a boy!"
"That was reckless and foolish," my Dad says, and the anger is clear in his voice. My parents have a thing about monster hunting: they'd both much rather I not be a part of it, but they know I'm far safer knowing how to defend myself against supernaturals. So they trained me, but they set down some ground rules on day one. Rule number one is simple: run away from anything you don't know to kill.
"I know, and I'm sorry," I said. "But I think this changes the Tech disappearances."
"You think a vampire killed them?" Perkins asks.
"I don't think it's a coincidence that students go missing right around the same time that trolls start wandering out in public and vampires show up. Something is happening in the city, but Mark Bell's not part of it."
"What makes you so sure?"
I pull out my phone and open the photo of the letter Bell received. "This," I say as I hand Perkins the phone. "Someone's threatening to kill his family if he talks."
"So why hasn't he show this to us yet?"
"Probably because it says his family will be killed if he did.” I turn to my parents. "I think Mark is being set up as the fall guy here, and I think it's by a teacher."
"A teacher?" Mom asks.
I nod. "Mark said Camila was sleeping with a teacher and that Marcela knew about it. I think the teacher is trying to cover his tracks."
"Got any suspects?" Perkins says.
"As a matter of fact, I do. The math teacher, Mr. Foster. What do you have on him?"
"Don't know the specifics off the top of my head, but we ran background checks on all of the teachers after the second disappearance. They all came back clean."
My father rubs his head. "You're sure, Steve?"
"If one of them had come up bad we'd have been all over them."
"Let me look into Foster on my own," I volunteer. Mom opens her mouth to say no, but I don't give her the chance to speak.
"I know you're worried about me, but I'll be careful. If I find something, I'll let you all know before I make a move. We can go in as a team."
Mom and Dad exchange unsure glances. Sometimes I think they're not quite sure what to do with the fact that I'm grown up. I can make my own calls and trust my own instincts.
"Fine," Mom says finally. "See what you can find, but be careful."
"I will."
Inspector Perkins gets up. "I better be getting back to the precinct. I'll do as much damage control as I can."
"We'll get y
our car," Mom adds. "And we'll look into the vampire sighting. It might turn out that vampires are behind all of this, and we need to find out how to fight them."
We get up and usher Perkins to the door. He shakes my dad's hand and hugs my mom before turning to me. "Try to stay out of trouble for the next few days."
"Will do," I say, knowing full well I can't guarantee that for sure.
FIFTEEN
OKAY, so I've decided to keep do some digging on Mr. Foster. First thing's first, I need to know where to dig. All I know about the man is that his last name is Foster and he likes to take the train to lower Manhattan. Not exactly enough to bust a guy.
I start to work on my plan as I drive to school the next day. I need to get more information on him. My mind drifts back to my conversation with Will from two days ago. If I can get him a first and last name he should be able to dig up all sorts of personal details on Foster.
But what kind of details am I looking for, exactly? Inspector Perkins already said the NYPD did a background check on Foster and came up empty. So what exactly am I hoping Will can find that the cops couldn't?
But it doesn't matter, does it? Even if all I get is Foster's address, that'll be enough for me to go pay him a visit after hours. One that won't end with detention. You know, unless I'm forced to kill him in a classroom. In that case, I'd be lucky to get off with just detention.
I'm still lost in thought when I pull into a parking spot near the school. Luck being what it is, Marisol just happens to be walking by, and she's looking at me like I'm Justin Beiber as I get out of the Honda.
"You've got your own car?" She asks, barely able to contain her awe.
"Yup, it's a hand-me-down, but it's got Bluetooth and everything." Everything including a hidden compartment in the trunk for storing various instruments of supernatural death. Not that I get to carry them with me or anything, it's just a fun fact.
"We have got to go for a ride one of these days! There's this great mall like twenty minutes north."
My face falls. Not the mall. I love shopping as much as the next girl, but if you think I'm a fan of being trapped in someone's sick idea of an amusement park, you've got another thing coming. Malls are the worst; you've got no idea who's alive or dead in them. Literally. A few years ago we had to get rid of a revenant that was haunting a Claire's. How in the world does a revenant get to haunting a Claire's? Malls, that's how.
"Yeah, totally," I say, hoping I don't sound half as horrified as I feel. Marisol's about to say something when I hear Ariana's voice from behind.
"Ria! Hey!" She shouts as she and Will run to catch up to us. Marisol's face instantly curdles as if she's been forced to spend an hour smelling rotten milk.
"Don't tell me you hang out with them?" She says with obvious disdain.
Before you can say "catty", Ariana's right back at her. "Bitch, what the hell are you doing here anyway? We're all about to go to school. Isn't that, like, a vampire walking into a church."
I chuckle without thinking about it before catching myself and looking at Marisol guiltily. What can I say, now that I know vampires are real, the thought of them walking into a church is kinda funny.
Marisol looks me up and down before huffing. "I'll see you around, Ria. Wake me up when you're done with these losers."
She strolls off, and I give Ariana a confused glance. "I'm getting the feeling that I'm walking into the middle of some deep-seated drama."
"Oh, don't mind Marisol," Will says. "She's just a witch."
"What? Really?"
Will looks at me like I've grown a third head. "No. I was making a joke. You've heard of them, right?"
"Oh." What do you want from me? If vampires are real, what else is out there that I haven't come across? I'm trying to keep an open mind here.
"Anyway, did you hear about what happened last night?"
"No," I say, playing dumb. "What?"
"Word on the street is that Emilio Castro went missing," Ariana says.
"Who's Emilio Castro?"
"God, you are new," Will notes.
"Yup, you don't stop being the new kid in week two."
"Emilio is...was—"
"IS!" Ariana interjects forcefully.
Will raises his hands. "All right, sheesh! Emilio is Marcela's ex-boyfriend."
I try to play dumb and look to Ariana. "Marcela? Your Marcela?"
She nods. "Word is he hasn't come home since Friday."
"Have his parents called the cops? Flyers? What can we do?" I look to Will. "You're a hacker; can't you build an app that'll locate him."
"First of all, if I could, I damn sure wouldn't still be here. I'd be on a beach somewhere enjoying all the money I made from selling it to the government. And secondly, I don't think there's anything we can do."
"That's four kids now. What do you think is causing it?"
"We don't know," Ariana admits with a huff. "It's scary to think that someone is picking us off one at a time."
"We'll all be okay as long as we stay together," I say because I'll be damned if I'm going to let whatever is behind this—whether it's Foster, a troll, or a vampire — get to any of my people.
FIRST PERIOD on Wednesdays is Biology with Ms. Birch, but today feels different. Ms. Birch looks defeated. Her eyes are red and puffy as if she's been crying. Instead of wearing her snazzy blouse and skirt combos, she's in the momsiest pair of mom jeans and an ugly yellow t-shirt. She barely smiles as we all file into the classroom. I guess having students vanish every few months will do that to you.
"Good morning, class," she says as we all get settled, but there's none of the usual joy or excitement in her voice. "We're going to have a special bulletin from the principal before we begin. You may talk amongst yourselves until the loud speaker comes on, but please refrain from talking after."
"Jesus," Will whispers to me and Ariana. "I don't think I've ever seen Ms. Birch this down. It's like someone stole her spirit."
"This is probably really hard for the teachers," Ariana notes. "It keeps happening, and each time they've got to be interviewed by cops and stuff."
There's a click from the loudspeaker above the board, and then Principal Bowen's voice comes through the PA system. "Good morning, students," she begins. "I'm afraid I have to share some bad news. One of our students, Emilio Castro, has been missing since Friday."
Gasps break out around the room, and Birch waves her hands to get everyone to quiet down.
"We have been working with the police and his parents to try to find him, but now we're asking you. If anyone has a clue about Emilio's whereabouts, please come see me in the main office."
She continues. "This is a difficult time for us, another student going missing after what we all went through last year. But, God willing, we'll find Emilio, and Kian Ford, and Marcela Torres, and Camila Fernandez. And we will get through this, together."
The PA clicks, leaving the room silent as everyone struggles to come to grips with what we just heard. But She's wrong. Camila, Kian, and Marcela have been missing too long. Odds are they're dead, and Emilio's as good as gone too. All that's left is finding whoever is doing this and making sure they end up just as stiff. And that's my job.
I'll give Ms. Birch credit, for a woman who appears to be on the edge, she manages to hold the class together for the rest of the session. We even learn a thing or two about endocrine systems. Man, do we have a lot of glands.
The bell rings, signaling the end of the period, and we all start moving toward our next class. But then I catch Ms. Birch wiping her eyes as I head out the door and...I dunno, I guess I just had to stop.
"Are you okay, Ms. Birch?" I ask. I know the answer to that, but I've learned that sometimes asking is enough.
She wipes her face with her hands. "Yes, I'm all right, Ria. Thank you."
"Listen, I know everyone's upset about the disappearances."
"It's just so awful," she says, her voice wavering. "I don't understand why this keeps happening."
; "I'm sure the cops are doing all they can to find them." I am, too, but of course, I can't say that. Not only would it not make sense to her, it would seem like I was an attention hog. I'm not. Well, maybe a little.
She forces a weak smile. "You're right. I just have to keep hoping."
Actually, hope has nothing to do with it. My detective skills do. But whatever.
"Thanks for checking up on me," she says. "You're a sweet girl, Ria."
I smile and start to head out when she stops me.
"Have you given any more thought to joining science club?"
I pause. I shouldn't do it. I really, really, shouldn't do it. I don't have time for it, and I can only imagine what it'll do to my standing in school society.
But what the hell, Ms. Birch is one of the teachers I actually like.
"Sure," I say. "Count me in."
SIXTEEN
"YOU WHAT?!"
Will is beside himself as I break the news about science club to him in the hallway on the way to lunch. "I warned you," he says. "I begged and pleaded with you! But noooo, you had to do it."
"Oh, shut the hell up," Ariana says. "I think it's great. I joined on Monday."
"I guess that makes you the only holdout," I tell Will. "What's with your resistance, anyway? I figured you'd love the chance to gawk at Ms. Birch's boobs for several hours."
"Oh, I would totally love that," he says, his eyes drifting up for a momentary daydream. Ariana hits him on the arm, bringing him back to the present. "Sorry, what was I saying?"
"Science club," I remind him.
"Oh, yeah! Well, as much as I'd love to stare at Ms. Birch's boobs..."
Ariana raises a fist. "Don't you drift off again."
"I'm not gonna! I was just saying that it's not worth what it would cost me, socially."
He starts off on a tangent about how science club would ruin his image when we walk by Mr. Foster's room. It's actually empty. I glance down the hall and spot Foster walking toward the stairwell, accompanied by a police officer.
Will notices as well. "I guess it's Mr. Foster's turn to chat with the po-po."