“He feels guilty,” Nin whispered without looking at me as she crouched next to him. Gingerly, she pulled his left hand away from the amputated part and unwrapped my shirt from around it. “The bleeding has stopped.” She turned to me. “I’m going to give him my blood and then I need to take him to shelter. He needs rest.”
I nodded. “That’s cool. I’m just worried someone heard the gunshot.”
“This motel seems nearly empty. It is a slow time of year for tourists.”
“I sure fucking hope so,” I said and rubbed my face, wincing at the beginnings of stubble there. I felt like I hadn’t slept in a week. “I need you to bring me back some stuff before you squirrel him away.”
“He must rest.”
“I know that, Nin, but I must clean. I can’t leave this room looking like this. In order to clean, I need supplies. I can’t go out unless you want to rent another room in this place just so I can get a shower.”
She pressed her lips together as Krit bit into her, pulling her to the floor as he drank greedily from her neck. Her fangs were visible when she grimaced. I was interrupting a vampire moment. To give them space, I checked myself out in the mirror hanging just outside the bathroom, trying to ignore the trail of deep red footprints leading out from under the closed door. I looked like utter shit, so I hastily washed my face in the sink with the itty-bitty motel soap. I pulled my hair out of the elastic band. I guess that helped a little, but I smelled like dead things and rancid Wretched blood. A shower would be awesome. Nin appeared behind me in the mirror, and I jumped.
“Jesus, you scared me.”
“I have finished with him. He sleeps.”
I leaned back to peer around the corner. Sure enough, Krit was stretched out on the bed closest to the bathroom where I’d dumped the phlebotomy supplies a million years ago. His face was slack in slumber and looked almost peaceful again.
“What do you require?” Nin regarded me with childlike curiosity.
“A motel room. Go rent one for the night and bring me back the key. I’ll also need to know your phone number, and use Krit’s truck to haul the bodies off.”
Nin turned and left without a word, leaving me alone with two dead things and a sleeping, injured Nesfer. I thought about what a dirty mess of work lay before me. Nin wasn’t going to help clean this shit up, and Krit couldn’t help in his condition. Call it fate–call it talent. I had a knack for getting in the nastiest messes.
Nin came back in with a key to another room. Luckily, it was only three doors down from me. I pulled my shoes off and carried them in one hand, key in the other hand, and a change of clothes, filched from the stolen laundry pile, under my arm. Once I locked myself in the new room, I stripped off everything I was wearing and ran a scalding hot shower. I scrubbed for what seemed like hours, and when I finally got out, I couldn’t see past my nose because of all the steam.
I slipped into the fresh change of clothes. First stop: the store. In the dead of night. For cleaning supplies and lawn and leaf garbage bags. No, that wasn’t suspicious or anything. I washed my boots off in the tub and ran the water for a few minutes after that, until the tub was sparkly white again. After that, I smoked a cigarette outside the door before locking it and returned to Nin and Krit. Nin was in a chair next to the draped window; Krit was still on the bed. Both were asleep. It was getting close to daybreak–I figure I had about two hours. I rushed to the gas station and picked up a box of ten forty-gallon bags, three rolls of paper towels, Windex and ammonia. I went about loading the bodies and their assorted parts into the bags as soon as I got back and left the cleaning shit behind. After throwing the bags in the back of Krit’s truck, I grabbed my backpack and guns and raced the morning to get out of town, hoping not to get stopped by State Police.
I didn’t know where I was going. All I knew was I had to get far away and out in the open where I could let Heather’s remains burn right. When the horizon turned red to my eyes, I drove the truck off the road and started searching for shelter.
I needed to escape the sun and hide the goddamned truck while I waited out the day. As if in answer to my dilemma, a rustic lean-to came into view. I steered the truck toward it, hoping against hope it was deserted. It was. I spent the day underneath the truck, wanting very badly to be anywhere else as I stared up at the undercarriage and tried to ignore the smell of decomposing body. When the sun dropped lowest in the sky, I retreated inside the building to avoid the last offending rays.
Desert soil could be either loose like sand or hard as fucking rock depending on how arid it was. This was the latter. Thankfully, Krit had a shovel in the bed of his pickup. I tried not to think about the missing campers while I dug a decent-sized hole for what would be the ashy remains of the unidentified housekeeping worker from the motel. When I opened the bags to take out the bodies, I seriously about lost it. I might be a vampire, but the last thing I do is hang around dead–or twice-dead–bodies.
I set Heather’s body on fire, her head kept separate. It would’ve been so much easier if she’d just dissolved into a greasy stain like that other Wretched at Pale Rider, but I guess she was too new. The head would light up come sunrise. Her flesh was like gasoline to the flames, so I added the other stiff to the mix, amazed at the blazing heat. Which meant, provided I wasn’t interrupted, they’d be nothing but ashes–and bits of bone for the human–in about six to eight hours. The stable provided plenty of firewood to keep it going until it looked like I was trying to outdo a Burning Man effigy.
I sat on the open tailgate, watched the flames, and sifted through memories, something to do when left unoccupied. Most of the time it was a curse, but that night was a relief. The fire was pretty, regardless of the contents. Overhead, the New Mexico sky yawned wide and black, shot through with countless stars. This had to be what it was like everywhere way back when, before civilization roared through on iron wheels. This was still wild country and I could sense larger animals prowling nearby in the shadows. They weren’t bothering me and I wasn’t interested in what they were doing, so it worked out. Around five in the morning, I went ahead and brought down the flames with dirt added a little at a time. Heather was completely disintegrated. The human was exactly what I figured she’d be. A little bit of bone and teeth, sooty and cracked. I mixed the cremains with the soil before burying them.
At that hour, there wasn’t much stirring just yet out there in the desert. The moon had sunk in the sky, as if giving up the sky to the daystar. But the sandy soil gave off a strange, lunar-like glow. It was much different than the silver-tipped branches of the spruce back in Colorado. I threw the shovel back into the bed of the truck and sat on the tailgate for a cigarette. My pack was tucked away inside a pocket in my jacket beside me. I dug for them and opened the box to slide out a smoke. When I looked up, she was there.
To be honest, it could’ve been anyone. The dead had a way of asserting their own appearances, which was helpful when they were as mauled up as the housekeeping lady had been. She was a small woman, older, maybe about fifty, and from what I’d seen of the corpse before I’d burned it, loosely looked the same. Prechewing, of course. I’d seen ghosts before. My first one had scared the shit out of me, happened a few days after I turned even, but I’d been cautioned to just ignore them. They’d figure it out on their own that their time was up. At any rate, it wasn’t something I wanted to mess with. I’d heard enough stories of bloodsuckers letting on that they could see, and being haunted long enough to do themselves in.
She didn’t look scary, just translucent. Little bit of a glow, that wasn’t reflected by anything around her. I pulled my knee up to rest an arm on it, leaned back and watched her without staring directly at her. Her back was to me, and she kept her gaze trained on the ground, like she was waiting for something to grow. She didn’t seem to even notice I was there. When I finished my cigarette, I dropped it to the ground and stepped down on it, careful not to make any sudden moves or noises. The suspension creaked a little, though. She turned a
round, looking straight at me for the first time. I pretended to be fascinated in the sky. It was getting to be time for me to go. She strode over to me, her voice a weak, rolling echo, as if underwater, but through the air instead.
“Where am I? Who are you?”
I didn’t say anything or move a muscle, only kept looking up.
“Where am I? Who are you?” She started crying.
It was a horrible sound, and I was thankful she wasn’t loud. I stood up to close the tailgate. Ghost or not, I was out of there. Sun was coming, and I was damned if I would sleep under the truck in a barn again. Besides, I wanted away from the dead woman, and the remains. The whole land felt weird, full of strange vibes and a black hum. Chances were, her being there would attract any others around, that was, if her opening came. I’d never seen a spirit go through to the other side. If there was a door, it wasn’t visible to me. I’d heard tall tales of doors opening, bright lights, even Death himself on a pale horse. It was all a load of shit.
The dead woman had lost interest in me and wandered back over to her final resting place. She got down on her knees and stared down at the dirt. I took that as my cue to get the hell out of there.
I drove the truck at faster speeds than it wanted to go, accustomed to my RS’s capabilities. With a little bit of complaint and shake, the old engine complied. I didn’t have a choice. I was running down to the wire with the whole beating the sun thing. Fortunately, it was clouding up quick. A heavy storm was rolling in, and by the time I reached town, fat raindrops sploshed on the windshield, giving a good workout for the ancient wipers.
The parking lot of The Thunderbird was clogged with a batch of black-and-whites, and instead of turning in, I kept going. There was only one really good reason police would be all over the scene. Somebody’d found out about the bloody mess I’d left in my room. They’d check my name in their records and come up with hundreds of matches. I’d left nothing behind to identify me, but shit. I was out of time.
I needed to find a place to hide out for the day until dark so I could get back to Silvia’s where my bike was. I also needed to go ahead and ditch the truck. I doubted very seriously that it was really Krit’s; more likely it was stolen. Those two Nesferatas had left me holding the bag–almost literally. The more I thought about it, the more pissed-off I got. I’d been double crossed. I was almost certain that Nin had made an anonymous phone call to the police, probably just before she split town with Krit. Then again, the housekeeper lady would have been missed by somebody after a day as well. Especially on the job. To tell the truth, I really didn’t know what had happened.
I couldn’t rent another room, especially under Gabriel Nez. There wasn’t enough time to go on to the next town and I wanted to get the pickup off the streets as soon as possible. I turned off the main drag to drive through a neighborhood. About six blocks down, I parked the truck in front of a house behind a battered Buick with red tape on one of the taillights. I left the keys in the ignition and the windows rolled down. With any luck, some sucker would come along and steal it. Free vehicle disposal. After I’d strapped on my backpack, I darted between the houses in search of shelter. Neighborhoods worked great for last-minute hideaways; all I needed was about thirteen hours of shade undisturbed. Two blocks over, I found a nice red brick one-story with a gardening shed in the backyard. It’d have to do.
Since it was still pretty much winter, I didn’t worry as much about somebody coming out to drag out the mower or weed eater. Bags of potting soil and plant food were stacked on a pallet and that’s where I took a seat and eventually fell asleep against the wall there.
I woke up around evening time and slipped out of the shed. After walking a little ways down the sidewalk, I called Silvia and asked her to pick me up in town.
She met me at a convenience store and gave me a long, hard look when I got into her SUV. “What happened? You smell like a campfire.”
I set the backpack between my knees on the floorboard and put on my seatbelt as she pulled back out into the street. “Camped out with some friends.” It wasn’t exactly a lie.
She raised an eyebrow at me. “What about your friend?”
“What friend?”
“The one you took home. Is he all right?”
She meant Krit. “Oh. Yeah, I’m sure he’ll be fine.” I lit a cigarette, the first one I’d dared have since driving back from body detail. And I’d told myself before that I wasn’t burying another corpse. Oh, well.
When we got back to her house, I jumped into the shower. It felt so good to be clean again. While I washed my clothes, Silvia let me borrow a pair of shorts and a big t-shirt that she said had been Ralph’s.
We sat together in the kitchen, where she seemed to spend an awful lot of time. She stood, plucked a teacup off a small wooden tree and turned to me.
“Making some tea, did you want a cup?”
“Actually, I’ll take some of that hot water if you don’t mind.” Hot water was something I could consume in small quantities. It fooled a lot of people when out in public. It also wet the mouth.
She put the teakettle on to boil and sat down across from me, arranging shit on the table.
She didn’t look at me and just seemed kind of down.
I frowned. “Are you going to be all right?”
“I’ll be fine.”
“I’m sorry they haven’t found Heather.”
Silvia met my gaze then. Her eyes were brimming with tears and she bit her lip to keep them from spilling over. She shook her head. “That’s not her anyway. Her spirit has gone on. She’s at peace.”
“I hope so.”
“Gabriel, it’s been good having you around.”
“It’s been an interesting time being around.” I scowled and we fell quiet. I raised my arms above my head and stretched and she picked at the mail lying on the table.
The teakettle whistled, and we both jerked. She got up to pour the water, stuck a little tea strainer in hers and brought me just a plain cup of it. I nodded in gratitude and sipped at the hot water. The heat left a small tingle on my lips and tongue, kind of neat. I settled back in my chair.
“You are welcome to stay as long as you like.” She brought her cup over and sat down again.
I shook my head and set the cup on the table. “I have to get back pretty soon.”
“I imagine you have lots to do.” She pulled the strainer out of her cup and poured some honey in. “Lots of energy to burn.”
My scowl melted into a smile at what she was probably inferring. “Hell, if you were younger, I’d take you with me.”
She laughed. “I like your idea. Less bad back and knees that way.”
Chapter 9
I couldn’t stay in New Mexico anymore. The whole idea of checking out my mom’s people was exhausting and, after the Wretched fiasco, my ass was tired, and in need of a good drink and my guitar. I wanted to play so bad my fingers ached.
Silvia caught my eye, offered a reassuring smile and laid a hand on my shoulder. “You have figured out your path. I can see it in your face.”
I nodded. “I think it’s time to head home.”
“Today?”
I shook my head. “Probably tonight. I like night driving. Easier. Less busy.”
Although my gaze was on the tabletop, I felt her staring a hole in my head. She cleared her throat and settled back in her chair. I glanced up at her as I took another sip.
She was looking straight at me. “There’s something about you, Gabriel. A secret.”
I swallowed more of the water than I wanted to, my stomach giving a warning wiggle not to push my luck. “What do you mean?”
She shrugged and brought her teacup to her lips, her dark brown eyes wise over the rim. “If it were meant for me to know, I would tell you.” She sat the cup down on the saucer and smiled gently. She reached out to cover my hand with hers. “It’s not for me to know.” She returned her hand to the teacup.
I wasn’t sure how to respond, so I didn’t. I
stuck my finger in the hot water and swirled it around instead in an effort to avoid her watchful gaze. She was such an honest person, and grieving the loss of a sister besides. “Listen,” I started, but she stopped me with a stern look.
“No, Gabriel. It’s not for me to know.” She finished her tea, took the cup and saucer to the sink and washed them. I glared at the red ring around the inside of my own cup. Life just wasn’t fair sometimes. Silvia’s house held a lot of my past and it made me reluctant to leave it, but yeah... I needed to go home.
Pale Rider wasn’t a permanent home, but then again, nothing was permanent. Thinking in that direction really helped me digest the whole living forever crap. Best thing for me to do was to not think that far ahead. Maybe a year in advance, but hell. I couldn’t even imagine how much more shit would change in that short a time.
I stood to take my cup to Silvia while she was standing there washing the other dishes. She took it from me with a nervous smile and I lay a hand on her shoulder. “Hey.”
Her face was filled with a mess of conflicting emotions. At the sound of my voice, grief won. The floodgates opened and tears streamed down her cheeks. I pulled her wet hands away from the sink, wrapped her arms around me and pressed her head to my chest. Slowly, her fingers clutched my shirt tighter and tighter as her quiet sobs broke into a sorrowful wail.
“I know you’re trying to be tough. I get that. But you’ve had a shitty time in all of this.”
She nodded into the damp spot she’d made on the front of my shirt.
“You need to let yourself grieve, Silvia.”
She nodded again. “Giving into mourning is something...I just don’t want to do yet.” She sniffled and wiped her eyes with the heels of her hands.
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