“Oh, and next time Sarah...”
She waited.
“Please knock.”
They bought crosses at a Christian book store. The holy water they picked up from The Church of the Three Crosses, a Catholic church with several fonts of the blessed water (they filled glass jars with it when they were sure no one was watching and there was no mass). They purchased lumber from the local Home depot, fashioning wooden rods into stakes. Gwendolyn and Stephanie spent most of a day whittling them away with carving knives.
“When do you think she’ll be back?” Gwen asked her.
“I don’t. Maybe never,” Stephanie said.
“Do you think you could really kill her?”
“No. But I may not have a choice.”
She couldn’t entirely relax. Gwen felt the same to a certain degree. After all, she’d had Sarah as an uninvited guest. But Sarah had been her best friend; at least her newest best friend before Gwen came along, and it troubled her to think that Sarah could come back, meaner than before, with all intents to kill them. Stephanie watched the movie come on, but looked through the screen. She and Gwen sat silent now in the movie theatre, eating popcorn absent-mindedly while the light from the movie screen and the sounds from the speakers washed over them.
Something else troubled Stephanie James. Mayor Charles Tremont. Whatever it was that happened to him, he was lying about it. And despite appearances he was not quite what he seemed. People were viewing him as a miraculous survivor, and seemed to be giving him more power over the town’s affairs, in essence giving him the keys to the city- unchecked power. And Stephanie wondered what was going on in his off-time hours. Maybe he knew what was going on with Sarah. Maybe he knew why she was abducted, and turned. Perhaps he even knew a way to turn her back. She was beginning to think that
paying the mayor a visit might be a fine idea.
Although not entirely welcome with open arms, Sarah did feel a sense of community. There were about twelve to fifteen of them in the room where they met. She was sure she recognized some faces from the town hall where the mayor spoke. There were some whisperings of The Others, who had joined in the mayhem, and of Sarah having been created by one. Although her hearing was perhaps not as finely attuned as the rest of theirs were, she could still pick up words and the gist of it by inflection. The Others were ancient vampires, alternately called The Grays, and were greeted with a certain level of disdain.
Walter introduced Sarah to the vampires he knew, ignoring the rest, and they continued into another cavern. The two of them had flown down through the pit opening, although Walter had done most of the flying, holding onto her arm. She hadn’t quite got the hang of it yet, being the first time she’d actually attempted it. Because of the pits’ depth it was more of a partial freefall, gliding down and narrowly avoiding the rock face of the circular wall surrounding them. Surprisingly she had landed on her feet along with Walter.
She understood that she was now being guided into a room where the titular heads of this vampire community resided, because even down here there seemed to be some sort of hierarchy. Whatever this was Sarah understood that this would be her new home. The mortal world no longer applied to her, and she would go out there only when necessary, to feed. She had mixed emotions about it all. Sarah knew she had lost something. She still thought of her parents, and of Stephanie, but each day the loss seemed less, the things she cared about not so important. She knew this was due in part to her new nature, and partly to the blood she’d ingested- particularly the vampire blood. The vampire part was starting to take over. And soon she’d no longer be able to control it at all.
It so happened that Charles was in his office the afternoon that Stephanie James came knocking. He was unsure of whom the pretty young girl on the other side of the door was when he answered it, but her very presence was intriguing enough. His constituents didn’t usually come knocking at his door.
“Yes, how can I help you young lady?” the mayor inquired.
She extended her hand, which he shook. “Hello, my name is Stephanie James. Mayor, I feel like you and I need to talk.”
This was getting more interesting by the minute. He acquiesced. “Very well, come in, have a seat.”
He sat behind his desk, and she took the seat directly opposite. Stephanie looked around, taking in her surroundings, when her eyes settled on the human shaped hole in the wall plaster to her left. The mayor followed her gaze, shot her a boyish grin and shrugged.
“Renovations,” he said. When she looked back at it her gaze lingered.
“So,” he said, drawing her attention back to him, “What is it I can do for you Miss James?”
She’d only ever been called that by her mother’s high society rich friends, and wasn’t quite sure how comfortable she felt with that title.
“Stephanie, please.”
“All right, but only if you’ll call me Charles.”
She shook her head. No, that wouldn’t do. She felt much less comfortable referring to a town official by their
first name, regardless of what shady things might be going
on.
“Miss James will be fine,” Stephanie said, hoping it didn’t come off sounding too bitchy.
The mayor flashed a knowing smile, as if he were in on some secret she wasn’t privy to, and nodded. “Go on then, Miss James; tell me why you are here.”
“All right. Well, I’m not sure how to start.”
“Let’s try the beginning.” He had the grin of a shark.
“Well, some people in town are confused about what exactly happened to you.”
“You mean my abduction,” he stated.
Stephanie nodded.
“Understandably so.”
“Not only that. They’re unsure of just how you escaped.”
“By they, do you mean... yourself?”
“For instance...”
He looked at her directly, locking eyes, as if trying to gauge her emotional state, her motivations. It became increasingly uncomfortable and she looked down.
“All that has been repeatedly told by the press, I’m sure you know.”
“Yes,” Stephanie agreed. “I know what I’ve heard...” She couldn’t go on.
Mayor Tremont raised an inquisitive eyebrow. “Why are you really here Miss James?”
“I’m looking for my friend. I think she’s been abducted by the same... people... that abducted you.”
He leaned forward, clearly interested now. “How so? How can you be sure of this?”
The mayor sat back and waited patiently.
Stephanie breathed out hard. “Her name was Sarah
Strobe.”
The mayor appeared to be taken aback, caught off guard, as if that were the last name he’d expected to come out of her mouth. It was only for an instant, but she caught the glint of recognition in his eye.
Charles quickly composed himself. “I’m not sure... I don’t know who that is. Friend of yours you say?”
Stephanie was not by nature a confrontational person, but she couldn’t let this stand.
“You’re lying!”
“Young lady, I don’t think you’re in any position to be leveling accusations. It is clearly improper without any evidence. Why should I know this Sarah?”
“This Sarah was my friend! And she was abducted by the same kind of creature that took you!”
“Creature? Miss James, what on earth are you talking ab...”
“Don’t pretend ignorance sir. I was at the same event you were. I saw you dragged under the stage by that thing!”
“What thing? I was abducted by terrorists!”
“The same thing Sarah’s become; a vampire.”
“That is simply preposterous young lady.” He said this with a calm that infuriated her, as if speaking to a child.
“All I want to know is what’s happened to her. Is she going to come back for me? Is she okay?”
“I’m sure I don’t know,” he replied patiently.
“Damn it! You know! You know something that you’re clearly not telling me!”
He stood up behind his desk. “I think I’ll have to ask you to leave young lady.”
“That’s Miss James to you, sir.” She stood up to face him, but she was several feet too short. “And I’m not leaving until you tell me what you know.”
The mayor circled the desk with a speed that baffled her. Not the speed of a vampire, but clearly not human. His hand wrapped around her throat, and she felt herself lifted off her feet into the air, and she was carried across the room, pushed up against the wall, next to the person shaped
indent in the plaster.
“Leave it alone,” the mayor said, “That’s my advice to you.”
She couldn’t breathe. Still she managed to talk through her constricted throat, looking down to her right at the hole in the wall. “Is... that... what you... did... to her?”
He pulled her away from the wall, slamming her into it again, grip firm on her throat. She felt herself turning blue, ready to pass out. He was unnaturally strong. Just when she thought she would faint, or suffocate, he let her go. She dropped two feet to the ground, huddled against the wall, gasping for air.
Mayor Charles Tremont pointed down at her. “One word of this to anyone, I’ll see you ruined. You’re going to forget about me, and you’re going to forget your little friend.”
She looked up at him, a mixture of fear and resentment in her eyes.
“Get yourself together, and get the hell out of my office.”
It took her at least another two minutes to do so, as she dragged herself along the wall, feeling the air gradually returning to her lungs. At last she got up. The mayor was already seated back at his desk. She spared him a hateful glance as she walked toward the door.
Calmly, pleasantly he called back to her as her back was turned, hand on the doorknob.
“Have a good day Miss James.”
She paused before opening the door, as if reconsidering; as if she had something else to say; and the mayor’s eyebrows lifted, mildly interested; and then she thought better of it.
Stephanie opened the door and stepped out, closing
it behind her. There was nothing she could do now. Maybe later she could, but not now. For what it was worth, she at least had the bastard on tape.
Stephanie rewound the microcassette in her pocket recorder and played the conversation back for Gwen. She saw Gwen’s look of alarm when the physical struggle began.
“Well, what do you think?” Stephanie asked when it was over.
“I’m not sure that you have much Steph,” Gwendolyn said honestly. “I mean, he didn’t admit any-thing, and I can tell there was some kind of struggle, but not exactly what is going on. I only know that he grabbed you and picked you up by the throat because you told me.”
Stephanie bowed her head. “That’s what I was afraid of.”
“But there is the threat,” Gwen added.
“Yes. I’ll see you ruined. One word of this to anyone, and I’ll see you ruined.”
“But this could have just meant your allegations. He still didn’t admit to anything. He could have meant anything.”
“Right,” Stephanie agreed, disconcerted.
“And no one’s going to believe the vampire stuff you were spouting. You just come off as a crazy person questioning the mayor.”
“Crap.”
“But there are other witnesses. People who saw the same things we saw.”
“Yes,” Stephanie agreed. “So are you saying I have something here or not?”
Gwen shook her head slowly. “Prob-ab-bly not dear. Sorry to burst your bubble. All you’ve got is the threat, and I don’t think that’s enough to indict the mayor in any kind of conspiracy.”
“So we’ll have to come at him another way.”
“We’ll have to find your friend,” Gwen said.
It took her to say it for Stephanie to realize that she wasn’t actually waiting for Sarah to come back, but was actively seeking her out. She wasn’t even sure what she’d do if she found her. She looked to Gwen for support.
“Any ideas?”
Sarah preferred to hunt alone. Of course she’d never hunted any other way. She’d barely fed before the mayor gave her a liquid infusion of vampire blood which, as promised, had lasted in her system for several days. About two and a half at least. Although group oriented within the pit, they were typically solitary in their feeding, never venturing out more than two or three at a time, so as not to draw attention to themselves. It was with this in mind that they indulged her this night. She wasn’t quite one of them yet, after all.
Once again scaling the walls of Westminster Towers she passed the window where she knew Gwen stayed. The lights were on, but the shades were drawn. She could make out the silhouettes of two women sitting. She knew it was Stephanie whose window she’d avoided, that was talking to Gwen. A small sigh escaped her, barely audible. She moved on, descending the building, crawling downward, spiderlike, with both arms and legs, making her way back to the empty sidewalks.
There should be an open bar a few blocks down, just past Fentmore Row, outside the Westchester Hills community. Not quite a dive, but a place where the rich went to get loaded when they were overwhelmed with spreadsheets and money mergers. She thought it was called The Dizzy Diva, which for some reason she found extremely funny. She’d never been. Seeing as how the streets were void of potentials, this was the next logical step.
Sarah made it to the doors, hearing the music and
watching the lights from outside, and stopped. What exactly was she planning to do? Maybe lure one of them into an alley? She wanted to remain inconspicuous, not draw attention to herself. Just then the double doors burst open and she narrowly stepped to the side before being smacked. An overweight fiftyish blonde in too tight clothing, and hair that wasn’t quite a beehive but pretty darn close, walked through with a muscular behemoth on her arm who was wearing tight jeans and a sleeveless muscle shirt, his bald skull gleaming with reflected red neon from the overhead sign. He appeared to be in his forties.
The blonde woman, obviously drunk off her ass saw her and exclaimed, “Hey honey!”
Sarah raised a hand as if asking her teacher a question, head bowed down. “Hey,” she said in response. She followed them with her eyes as they crossed the street, their backs to her now. She assumed the man was some sort of bouncer at first sight, who was kicking her out, but it looked like he was the woman’s official arm candy, and pondered how that one might have come about.
In spite of the empty streets she didn’t think they were worth pursuing. Sarah knew she could take the woman, no problem. Possibly even the man, with her newfound powers, which she was sure included increased strength. But she knew he’d put up a fight. The last thing she needed was a punching, struggling, screaming victim. She stepped through the doors.
Even in the low lighting she could tell the place wasn’t packed. There were about eight round tables in the middle of the room, and a row of booths to the far side of the room with a TV positioned above each. The bar, which was to her immediate left, also had televisions above every third or fourth stool.
The tables were mostly empty but for a few couples
and a small gaggle of stockbrokers. The booths were even less occupied. One booth held a couple of teenagers who were surprisingly non-rambunctious. All the other booths were empty but one- the furthest down, where a man drank alone in its shadowy depths. It was this booth she proceeded towards.
The bartender, a middle-aged dish water blonde, currently wiping glasses with a rag eyed her as she crossed the room. Sarah sat across from the shadowy man.
“Hello,” she said, perhaps too friendly. The man appeared to be nursing his beer. She couldn’t make out his face. The light didn’t quite reach the end of the booth, where his back was against the wall. She, how
ever, was backlit by the light hanging overhead and behind her. Not the ideal situation. The bartender, apparently short on help, with no waitress in sight, walked up to Sarah in a filthy green apron and asked her, “What can I get ya?”
“Nothing,” Sarah said, shooing her away with her arm, trying not to turn, so the bartender wouldn’t get a good look at her.
“You gotta order something. You can’t just come in here and sit for free.”
“Give the lady what she wants; I’ll pick up the tab,” the man across from her said. His voice was like gravel, time-worn and weary.
Sarah looked at his shadowy figure, uncertain. She saw him nod.
“I’ll have a rum and Coke,” Sarah said, still not turning.
“Rum and Coke,” the bartender/waitress repeated, writing it on her pad, “Anything else?”
“No, that’s all,” Sarah said, doing her best to sound
polite and calm. The bartender left.
“Thank you,” Sarah said to the stranger.
“It’s quite all right. It’s not everyday a pretty lady sits across from me,” the man said.
Sarah Strobe felt herself blush despite herself, “Especially not in a dark shadowy booth, in a bar where she can barely see who she’s talking to.”
“Um-hum,” she heard him say in that rich gravel-lined voice. He leaned forward, toward her, and into the light.
“Which leads me to believe your intentions are quite... questionable,” Fulton Blake said.
CHAPTER FIVE
FARADAY
When Benjamin Caldwell awoke, dazed and confused he was shivering. He realized that he was no longer wearing clothes. There were several co-workers, including Amelia, looking down at him. The grocery manager brought him a quilt from the bedding department.
“What am I doing here? What’s going on?” Ben said, draping the heavy cloth around him.
“I found Marvin...” Amelia said. “He’s dead.”
“What?”
Shaneka Rawley stepped into the room. She stared at Amelia, wide eyed.
The Depths of the Hollow (Mercy Falls Mythos Book 2) Page 7