“Please don’t shut me out. I’m here for you, Jonas.”
“I know,” he said quietly as he got out the car. Holland could tell by the grimace on his face and the way he rubbed his temples with both hands that the voices were back, and the volume was hurting his head.
CHAPTER 16
At Leroy’s Place, food and beverages were plentiful and all of Jane’s needs were being met with the abundance of baby products that Leroy had on hand. Holed up together was tolerable, though no one slept easily when Tony had the duty of keeping watch. The guy was jumpy and simply didn’t seem capable of keeping anyone safe. Eden marveled at the fact that Tony had survived the biters for almost twenty-four hours.
Today, the stench from the dead bodies out on the grounds of Leroy’s Place had begun to drift inside the store. The smell was putrid, and was so bad, everyone had to keep their mouths and noses covered with pieces of cloth. Though Gabe and Eden were pretty sure that the death smell was what kept the biters away, the foul odor had become intolerable.
“We’re going to have to get rid of those bodies,” Gabe told Leroy.
Leroy frowned. “I don’t want those things buried on my property.”
“That wasn’t the plan; there’s too many to bury.”
“So, what do you propose to do with ’em?”
“Pile ’em all together and burn ’em.”
Brows knitted together, Leroy contemplated Gabe’s suggestion. “Suppose the fumes from the fire draw those monsters to us?”
“It’s a risk we’re going to have to take.”
“Yeah, you’re right. The stench is getting unbearable. I reckon we can drag them to the back of the store, close to the wooded area. I don’t wanna a big fire going up on the lawn in front of my place.”
Gabe nodded. “You think Tony’s feeling well enough to pitch in?”
Leroy scratched his head. “He’s been complaining about his stomach again, but I’ll talk to him, see if he’s feeling up to snuff.”
Gabe scowled. “What’s he doing?”
“Upstairs, watching the news. Trying to see if there’s any news about the plague that’s going on in our area.”
Gabe shook his head. “You coddle Tony too much.”
“Tony’s not cut out for hard work. He delivers bread for his uncle, and picks up money . . . that’s it. Manual labor is not his strong suit.”
“He seems like a wily sort of guy—and he knows how to get out of doing his share of work.”
“Tony’s a good guy. A little spoiled, that’s all.”
Gabe gave Leroy a sidelong glance. “During these crazy times, no one has the luxury of kicking back and relaxing; everyone has to pitch in. Who’s supposed to pick up that guy’s slack—Eden? She’s done more than her fair share around here and I’m not going to have her lugging bodies while Tony watches TV.”
“You’re right. I’m gonna have a word with Tony. Let him know he’s not pulling his weight around here.”
“Tell Tony to stop acting like a prima donna, and to get down here and help us get rid of those rotting corpses.”
Dragging corpses behind the store took several hours. It was hard and unpleasant labor. Due to muscle cramping, Tony’s legs gave out a couple of times, and he retched every time he had to touch a dead body. Even tough-as-nails Leroy seemed on the verge of puking by the time the last body was tossed on the pile.
Gabe poured kerosene over the corpses and then torched them. Smoke billowed to the sky, but there was no sign of biters in front or behind the store.
Back inside, Gabe took Eden aside. “The coast looks clear out there. I’m considering taking a gas can and walking to that Texaco Station.”
“No! We’ve been safe in here, but you have no way of knowing what’s going on out on the streets.”
“If Scary Tony could survive out there for an entire day without a weapon, I can get to Pelham Avenue and back in one piece.” Gabe laughed.
Eden didn’t look happy, and Gabe tilted her chin up with his finger. “Don’t worry. I’ve got my rifle and a box full of ammo. We’re getting too comfortable here, Eden. If we don’t get some gas and get on our way, we may never make it to New York.”
“I’m scared,” she admitted. “I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to you.”
“Nothing is gonna happen to me.”
“You said the Explorer had enough gas to make it to the gas station; I’d feel a lot better if you were inside a vehicle—you know, with glass and metal protecting you.”
Gabe scowled. “Cars can be a death trap. I prefer the freedom of being able to make a run for it if I have to.”
“What’s the rush, Gabe? We’re doing fine here; and I don’t have a good feeling about you going out there by yourself. Let’s enjoy one more peaceful day, and then I’ll go with you, tomorrow.” Eden found herself anxiously rubbing Gabe’s arm. He glanced down at her hand, and she quickly removed it.
“Okay, I’ll stick around until tomorrow,” Gabe said. “But I don’t want you going with me. You should stay here with Jane.”
“Charlotte will look after her; and I’ll feel better if you have some backup.”
“Any particular reason why you don’t think I’m capable of handling the task alone?”
“I know you’re capable; it’s just that I don’t want you out there alone.”
“Why not?” Gabe stared at Eden, awaiting her response.
Eden fidgeted. “I guess I’m sort of reminded of the last time I saw my mother alive. She’d been abused by my stepfather for many years, and was going to file a domestic abuse report against him. She was going to leave him, and she and I were going to move into our own place. My stepfather is an important man in Mexico—lots of connections. Long story short, my mother never made it home. She disappeared without a trace. And I became my stepfather’s new punching bag for the next five years.”
“Wow! What kind of man would put his hands on women and children?”
“He was a monster. He had no more of a heart than those biters out there. That’s why I escaped across the border. It’s sort of ironic. My greatest fear was that my stepfather would come after me, and I never dreamed I’d be up against something worse—a plague of living dead.”
“No one is gonna hurt you, Eden. I’ll put a bullet in your stepfather’s head if he ever shows up. And as far as the biters . . . nothing’s gonna happen to you. I got your back.”
After months of staying strong while working the onion fields, and after seeing people she knew become afflicted with the infection that turned humans into beasts, Eden felt herself overcome with emotion. She fell against Gabriel and broke down and cried. Her face pressed against his broad chest, Eden quietly sobbed. Gabe enfolded her in his arms and gently stroked her hair.
CHAPTER 17
It appeared to be business as usual at the Bradley M. Jones Law Firm. Phones rang, FedEx packages were delivered, the fax machines whirred, and various staff members congregated around the water cooler to catch up on workplace gossip.
Inside his private office, Bradley hurriedly prepared documents that would transfer the Sherman Mansion deed to Elson Chandler. Preparing the documents was the easy part; getting them signed by the appropriate city officials would require crafty planning coupled with extreme cunning.
Last night, utilizing his exemplary oratory skills, Bradley had convinced Elson that he could seal the Sherman Mansion deal for him if he’d allow him to take Tessa home. Elson agreed on the condition that Bradley would turn over the deed to the mansion tonight. If he failed, Tessa would be forcibly returned to The Lilac, never to exit again.
With his daughter safe from vampires and recuperating in the comfort of her own home, Bradley needed to spend every second of his time making sure that she remained out of harm’s way. But he was scheduled to appear in court at nine in the morning, and shirking his legal obligation could result in hefty fines, threats of disbarment, and possible jail time. Getting locked up even for a short tim
e would not bode well for Tessa.
At precisely eight-forty-five, he grabbed his briefcase and grudgingly headed toward the door. The courthouse was only a block away from his law firm; he’d make it there in less than ten minutes. Defending his guilty, scum bucket client was a bothersome chore—a complete waste of time that could be better spent putting together a persuasive presentation for the city officials.
As he neared the elevator, he bumped into Amy Horsheck.
“Morning, Mr. Jones,” Amy murmured, her eyes self-consciously downcast.
“Morning, Amy,” he said in a gruff tone, indicating he wasn’t in a chatty mood.
“Mr. Jones,” Amy blurted when Bradley strode past her.
“What is it? I have to be in court in a few minutes,” he said irritably.
“Are you all right?” Looking for signs of puncture wounds, her eyes scanned him quickly.
“I’m fine,” he said tersely.
“Well, I was wondering . . .” she said, her voice lowered to a conspiratorial whisper. “Apparently, the local police are in cahoots with the vampires, and I wondered if you were planning to involve city officials in this crisis. I know you have connections, and—”
Bradley looked down at his watch. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m late for court,” he said, brushing her aside.
Amy clutched the sleeve of his jacket. “But . . . but . . . Mr. Jones, aren’t you going to do something to stop those awful vampires? They expect Derek and me to routinely donate blood. It’s cruel and unreasonable. Abiding by their rules has turned our lives into an endless hell. We can’t continue living like this.”
Bradley eased his sleeve from Amy’s clenched fingers. “Have you considered relocating—during daytime hours?” Bradley said coolly. After the real estate deal was completed, he fully intended on getting him and his daughter far away from Frombleton. He didn’t care what happened to his greedy ex-wife. It would serve Nicole right if the vampires drank every ounce of her blood. Hmm. Perhaps, he’d make a recommendation to Elson to feed on Tessa’s money-grubbing mother.
“The vampires have humans spying for them during the day; we’d never make it out of Frombleton,” Amy hurriedly whispered as she struggled to keep pace with Bradley’s brisk strides.
“Spies . . . during the day?” Bradley muttered.
Amy nodded.
He realized that Walsh and Canelli were conspiring with the vampires, but he hadn’t considered that there might be other humans involved.
“The spies are high school kids that pal around with vampires. They’ve been going door-to-door, pretending to solicit funds for a children’s hospital. Being the charitable person that I am, I opened the door and let those despicable teens into my home. And now my husband and I are blood slaves to vampires. There has to be a way out of this!”
My God! The vampires have high school kids working for them, too! He was grateful for the heads up. He’d planned on sending Tessa back to school after she was feeling better, but not now. Tessa definitely wouldn’t be returning to Frombleton High or going anywhere else for that matter. From now on, his daughter would be home-schooled. To keep Tessa safe, he’d have an updated security system installed, and he’d warn Nicole not to open the door to any teens that were asking for donations.
Returning his attention to Amy, Bradley held out his hands in a gesture of helplessness. “I don’t know what to tell you, Amy. For now, I suggest you continue to keep your weekly appointments with the vampires. Believe me, you wouldn’t like the alternative.” He reached the elevator bank and impatiently pressed the “down” button.
“The alternative must be pretty awful, huh? Derek and I . . . We heard the noises from down the hall. Piercing screams, crying, and terrible moaning. It sounded like people were being slaughtered.” She eyed him curiously. “What goes on, down the hall, in the doom room?”
“Unspeakable horrors,” Bradley answered, shaking his head as gruesome memories flashed in his mind. “You’ll be okay as long as you do what you’ve agreed to do.”
“But we were tricked into signing on as blood donors. Mr. Jones, you have to help us get out of our contract. You’re a respected man here in Frombleton. Can’t you speak to the mayor. Don’t you think he should know what’s happening in his city?”
“I intend to speak to him, uh, eventually, but it may take some time to convince the mayor that vampires are actually in our midst. For the time being, it would be wise for you and Derek to keep your appointments.” Bradley gave Amy a sympathetic pat on the shoulder and then stepped inside the elevator.
After an outburst by the defendant’s rowdy family, the judge dismissed the proceedings until the next morning. Getting an unexpected early dismissal allowed Bradley time to work on his presentation and to scrutinize the long-winded, awkwardly worded deed that had been notarized back in 1897.
With an estimated value of fifteen thousand dollars, the Sherman Mansion was sold by Tallulah Sherman on April 25, 1897 for one dollar. According to the deed, the property was released unto to Mayor Judd Purcell of said Frombleton, Georgia and to his successors that may be elected from time to time, according to the law.
It appeared that transferring the deed didn’t require as many signatures as Bradley had thought. He only needed one: the mayor’s.
Judd Purcell was long gone. For the past one hundred years, he’d been residing in the Rolling Lawn Cemetery, but the current mayor, Ashton Ringwood, was alive and kicking. Over the phone, Bradley spoke to the mayor about an amazing opportunity that would bring in millions of dollars of revenue to the city of Frombleton, and Bradley was granted a private meeting with Mayor Ringwood.
Relying on his gift of gab, Bradley arrived at City Hall around one in the afternoon and spent the next two hours trying to convince Ringwood that signing over the museum to an eccentric billionaire who had a penchant for the Sherman Mansion would get the bankrupt city of Frombleton out of debt.
“Why are you being such a stubborn cuss?” Bradley said with an anxious laugh.
“The deal sounds shaky. I can forget about getting reelected if I throw away a historical treasure on a bogus deal.”
“But the mansion is costing the city more than it’s bringing in. I’ve done my research, Ringwood, and the Sherwin Mansion is not bringing in enough to pay the monthly utilities. My guy will take it off the city’s hands and with his proposal to bring in a soccer stadium and a casino, before you know it, Frombleton will be flourishing.”
“Folks here aren’t that interested in soccer,” the mayor stated.
“They’ll develop an interest. Give the town something to do in the summer months. The stadium can also be used for concerts and other events.”
Ringwood scratched his head. “I don’t know, Bradley. I need to meet this billionaire guy . . . uh, what’s his name, again?”
“Chandler. Elson Chandler.”
Ringwood scowled. “Doesn’t ring a bell. Never heard of him.”
“New money. He’s involved in oil deals with the uh, Arabs.”
“Yeah, well, I need to hear the proposal from this Chandler fellow, firsthand.”
“Sure, okay.” There was uncertainty in Bradley’s voice.
“Hey, wanna hear something bizarre,” Ringwood said, changing the subject. “We got a call this morning from a woman who claimed her kid was snatched—a two-year-old. She said she was afraid to reveal her identity for fear from retaliation.”
Bradley leaned forward, his mouth suddenly dry. “Retaliation from whom?”
The mayor gestured with his hands. “Beats me. Aliens, vampires—something kooky like that. Every nutjob in the city thinks it’s their prerogative to pick up the phone and make crazy complaints to the mayor.” Shaking his head, he picked up the bottle and poured himself yet another drink, and took a generous swig.
Glancing nervously at his watch, a shiver of horror went through Bradley as he realized there were only a few hours left before the sun went down. The absurd idea that Tessa might possibly
be snatched from her bed and be forced to endure another grisly ordeal was more than Bradley could bear. He’d scarcely withstood the prolonged, and multiple bites he’d received from those terrible vampires, and in her weakened condition, Tessa would not survive another attack.
His eyes darted to the window, and he was shocked to see the sun disappearing behind dark clouds. The sky was streaked with ominous shades of brown and gray. “The sky’s darkening,” he said in a quivering voice.
“Yeah, it’s supposed to rain. That hot female meteorologist on channel six mentioned there’d be light showers.”
His mind on the vampires, Bradley gave the mayor a blank look.
“You know the girl I’m talking about . . . long brown hair, big innocent eyes. She’s always wearing short, sexy dresses that show off legs for days.” Ringwood smiled lecherously. “I’d sure like to snuggle up on a rainy day with the weather girl.”
As Ringwood fantasized about an illicit tryst with a TV personality, Bradley agonized over the possibility of Tessa being snatched from her bed. Examining the muddy brown sky through narrowed eyes, he wondered if the vampires would awaken earlier than usual or did they have an internal alarm clock that went off at the same time every night? The uncertainty caused his stomach to churn and his palms to sweat. I shouldn’t have gambled with Tessa’s life; I should have fled the city last night, he thought regretfully.
Mayor Ringwood opened a drawer and pulled out a bottle of Scotch and two shot glasses. “You’re looking like you lost your best friend, fella. This’ll cheer you up. It’s twenty-five-year-old scotch. Good stuff!” the mayor boasted.
Bradley threw back the drink and slammed his glass on the mayor’s desk. “Yeah, it’s good stuff; give me another,” he said, grateful for the opportunity to self-medicate.
“Only the best for the mayor of Frombleton,” Mayor Ringwood said cheerfully as he refilled Bradley’s glass and then poured himself another drink as well.
His mind racing against time, Bradley decided that his only option was to lure the mayor to The Lilac. Let Elson and his henchmen coerce Ringwood into signing.
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