Vampire Miami

by Philip Tucker

  “No,” said Selah. She suddenly very much wanted to stay with Maria Elena. Learn from her. This could be the perfect opportunity to discover the kind of information she needed. “Take me with you. Tonight.” Maria Elena stared at her skeptically. She began to shake her head. “I’m serious,” said Selah. “Look, I’m from NYC. I’m seventeen. If you don’t take me, I’ll go by myself, anyway. Take me with you. Don’t leave me here.”

  Maria Elena looked at her. Really looked at her. “Girl, you don’t know what you’re asking. But shit. Who am I to talk? I was hitting the Beach when I was younger than you are. If you want to come, then come. But I’m not promising anything.”

  “Sure,” said Selah, elated. “I understand.” Maria Elena already seemed to be changing her mind, so Selah pressed on. “What do you do there?”

  “I’m a hostess at Magnum, one of the clubs. Look, you sure you don’t want to go home and think this over?”

  “Maria Elena, I might never go back there. To Mama B’s.” She felt the truth behind her words, and thrilled at it. Suddenly felt adult, dramatic, intense. “I came to Miami for a reason. If Mama B thinks she can stop me and keep me cooped up indoors, she’s got another thing coming. I know my mind. I want to go.”

  Maria Elena searched her face, and then nodded. “OK.”

  At that point a second car rolled up, tires crunching the loose gravel of the street, and the group of guys dispersed, three of them getting into the new ride, the other two guys into the front of the parked car.

  “Come on,” said Maria Elena. “Let’s go, then. Angelo!” The guy she had been holding looked over from where he was about to get into the driver’s seat. Broad shouldered, muscled across the chest and wearing a tight fitting shirt, Angelo exuded a sullen charisma like a great cat but recently aroused from sleep.

  “Que quieres?”

  “Don’t you talk to me that way. I’m bringing my friend, Selah.”

  Angelo eyed her up and down, and then shrugged and got into the car. Selah followed Maria Elena into the back of the Cadillac and closed her door firmly behind her. She couldn’t resist. She pulled out her Omni and recorded a quick shot of her face: “Going to South Beach. And so it begins!” She pushed it to her Garden, then slipped the Omni away and smiled self-consciously at Maria Elena. The car rumbled to life, and Maria Elena’s friend accelerated smoothly down the street, weaving slowly through the stationary vehicles.

  “Isn’t it—isn’t it dangerous to be out at night?”

  Maria Elena snorted. “Out here? In Allapattah? Sure. If you’re by yourself and don’t know what you’re doing. That’s why we move in a group. All of us armed. Plus we got ID’s. Even if a vampire came out here to the boonies, we’d probably be fine. And why would they come, when all the action is downtown and on the Beach?”

  Selah tried to think of a reason. “The movies—I mean, the documentaries made it look like they were always out … hunting.”

  Maria Elena laughed again. “The movies? C’mon. They don’t have to hunt. I mean, sure, some vampire might decide to go out hunting for the hell of it, you know, like going on safari, but nobody I know has gotten hurt. There are too many people volunteering.” A wry look. “I mean, I wouldn’t go out walking by myself, but in a group like ours? No problem.”

  “Oh,” said Selah, confused. It seemed so obvious when Maria Elena put it that way. She looked out the window. A dark ghost town rolled by. Black alleys between gray buildings. There was no moon that she could see, and everything seemed silent and still.

  She turned back to the other girl. “What are credits? You mean, like money?”

  “Kind of.” Maria Elena leaned back in her seat. The two guys up front were talking in Spanish. “You know how anybody can buy their way out of Miami for a hundred grand?” Selah nodded. Not that there had been any rich people left in Miami when the Wall went up, but who hadn’t seen all the donation drives and charities that had sprung up to raise funds for those still trapped inside? “Well,” said Maria Elena, “there’s no money in Miami. We don’t work for dollars. We work for credits. The vampires are smart, see, they got it all figured out. You work a job, you get credit. You give blood, you get more credit. You rat on a friend who’s thinking of escaping, you get a ton of credits. You work long enough, you get enough credits, you can buy your freedom.” Maria Elena looked out the window. “Or somebody else’s freedom.”

  “Oh,” said Selah. She studied her new friend’s face. Was she a new friend? Selah wasn’t sure. She hoped so.

  The Cadillac pulled onto a larger avenue, following it for a short time before moving alongside an overpass for a couple of blocks. As they merged onto the overpass, ahead of them Selah could see the glittering Intercoastal waters, smooth under the night sky, and their bridge spearing out across it. Looking out the window, she saw the towers of downtown come into view, lit bright by electricity, spearing into the night like incandescent columns of living steel and glass.

  “Beautiful, right?” asked Maria Elena softly, following Selah’s gaze. “But we’re not going there. That’s where all the business happens. No entertainment. Lawyers and accountants and media types.”

  “What do the vampires want lawyers for? Why do they even want money? Why give you guys credits?” Selah felt dizzy. She couldn’t wrap her head around all this, this strange and complex world she was falling into.

  Maria Elena groaned theatrically and clasped her head. “Dios mio, you going to ask questions all night? Basta, no more questions. Listen up, I’m going to tell you a couple of important things now that you need to know.”

  Selah slipped her hand into her pocket and activated her Omni’s recording mode. Nodded seriously. The car descended the far side of the bridge’s hump, and once again ran nearly level with the water. The headlights revealed the empty lanes, cars pushed onto the grassy shoulders so as to leave a straight shot forward.

  “OK. Let’s see. First, don’t make eye contact with nobody. You don’t want any attention. You’re not ready for attention. Second, stay close to me. You leave my sight, I can’t help you. What else. You don’t have an ID, but if anybody asks, we can just say you’re new and will get one soon.”

  “I have my passport.”

  “Not your passport. ID. You’ll need to get one from Downtown tomorrow. That shows that you’re in the vampire system, can receive and spend credits, and it acts like a safe pass. Most vampires won’t mess with anybody who’s carrying one.” Maria Elena considered. “Most times. Third, watch out for people with blue ID’s. They’re security. They answer only to the vampires, and the vampires don’t really give a crap what they do as long as things run smooth. If they stop you for not having an ID, you let me talk.”

  “OK. Is that likely?”

  Maria Elena shrugged. “Maybe? But I can get you out of it. Security’s mostly worried about keeping street trash out of the nice parts of town. Since you look clean and civilized, they probably will look right past you.”

  “Oh. So the people living on the streets back where we came from…?”

  Maria Elena nodded. “Yep. They’re out there because if they try to get close to where it’s nice? They don’t make it back.”

  Selah felt uncomfortable. “So, what do those people do? I mean, they’re not part of this vampire society, they’re not building communities like Mama B—do they just, what? Do nothing?”

  Maria Elena sighed and shook her head. “I know. It’s hard. Most of them were like kids or teenagers when the Wall went up. Never went to school, never did nothing but live on the street. As for what they do? Make it from one day to the next. Hit up the food trucks, get all the free aid they can get, make families, I don’t know. Half of them are starving, or addicted to something, or looking to not get killed. It’s crazy. The one’s who want to live differently try to get into a building community like the Palisades, but most of them don’t last. Inside a month, they’re back out on the streets. It ain’t fair, but then again, that’s Miami for you.”<
br />
  They drove on. Looking back, Selah could see the dark line that was the land, the scintillating black waters mostly behind them now. She knew that the Beach was a long spit of land that hugged the shore, separated by the Intercoastal, most of it dark and silent now, but for the southern tip, the heart of South Beach.

  The driver spoke in Spanish, and Maria Elena responded. Selah leaned back, tuning them out. She felt tired and yet antsy, alert but unable to focus her thoughts. She allowed her eyes to relax, and watched as the bridge merged with land once more. They swung to the right and drove through a dark and shadowed boulevard lined with palm trees.

  She thought of Mama B. Would she be worried? Knowing that Selah was out alone in the dark? She hoped so, and then she felt bad. Thought of Mama B’s words, how unfair they’d been. Stopped at the word unfair. Chewed it over, and decided to never say it again.

  The two guys in the front laughed loudly, and she shrank back into her seat. Where were they taking her? What was she doing? She should’ve stayed at the Palisades. She felt a moment of panic as she thought about their destination: South Beach. Vampire paradise, where they played and partied their nights away, trapped as they were in Miami. Like tigers in a cage, Brad Dancer had said in Nowhere to Run.

  They started to pass islands of illumination. Large houses set back from the street with light pouring out of their windows. Suddenly, they left the darkness behind and were out under lit streetlights. Five minutes later they crossed a small bridge, took a left down a narrow street, drove five, six blocks, and pulled over. The second car that had been following them continued on, honking twice as it drove by.

  Maria Elena said something in a sardonic tone in Spanish; the guy in the passenger seat replied in a droll voice and laughed. Maria Elena shoved the back of his headrest in mock anger and pushed open her door. “Come on, Selah,” she said. “Let’s leave these idiots already.” She got out, and Selah did the same.

  The guys climbed out, still laughing, and the three of them said goodbye to each other, Selah standing awkwardly to one side. The guys were going in a different direction. They both worked in the kitchen of a steak joint, Maria Elena explained as they walked away. They would all meet back at the car in six hours and head home.

  Maria Elena took the lead. Selah followed, not sure she wanted to go. Curiosity wrestled with thrilling fear. She could hear music in the distance. Raucous, upbeat, driving into the night air, pulsing insistently and with undeniable rhythm. The sound drew them in, closer with each step, thumping and bruising the night.

  A massive parking building loomed up before them, and Maria Elena looked at her watch and cursed. Picked up the speed, and ran into an alley. Selah followed her down it and then out into a broad pedestrian boulevard that was all lights and crowded people.

  “Lincoln Road,” said Maria Elena over her shoulder. “Hurry up, I’m going to be late.”

  Selah wanted to grab onto the hem of Maria Elena’s dress so that she could be pulled behind and gawk at the people around her. Though half the restaurants were shuttered, the other half were open, tables spilling out across the broad pavement, sheltered under great parasols and bustling with clients. Music blasted from each doorway, through which Selah could see bars and tables and lurid lights and people talking and drinking, dining and wining.

  “This is just like on TV,” Selah said, unable to control herself. And it was. She’d seen reporters interviewing people about their quality of life under the vampire yoke. One of “Business Mogul” episodes this season had been set in Miami, with the young hopefuls put in charge of two opposing restaurants and tasked with outdoing each other in sales.

  Yet somehow she’d never believed it was real. Had believed only in the version of Nowhere to Run, the apocalyptic vision of a depraved and degenerate city, abandoned by the government and prowled by vicious monsters. Not this. Despite the interviews that had started early last year with a few key vampires, despite the TV shows, the reports of famous starlets being flown in for outrageous parties. Despite all the fanfare that had been starting up.

  But here it was. They crossed a street. There was a Starbucks. Selah stared at it as if she’d never seen one before. People inside on their Omnis. Working, or checking their Gardens, or whatever one did at night here on Lincoln Road.

  Though there were differences. Not everything was normal. Selah noted the white IDs that everybody had pinned to their clothing or wore around their necks on simple red cords. Picture IDs with printed information in simple, clear letters. Plus the energy felt off. People laughed too loudly, too often. Eyes were always sliding aside to see who was watching. More than one person was sunk in misery, sitting alone in some corner, hunched and staring out at the world like a hunted animal. Groups of men walked by dressed in black, guns holstered at their hips, their IDs blue. Too much she didn’t understand. Too much to absorb.

  They left Lincoln Road, and Maria Elena picked up speed again. Selah was burning with questions now, but couldn’t find a way to ask. Realized then that she hadn’t seen a vampire yet. At least, she didn’t think she had. In the films—and documentaries and online videos and everything else—they looked just like humans. Pale, of course, with flat black eyes and unnatural movements, but still mostly human. Maybe she’d already walked by a vampire and not realized it. Selah looked around and saw Maria Elena talking to a massive man who stood outside a door through which pounded and pulsed the most powerful music.

  Selah looked up. Magnum. This was it. They were still early, it appeared—there wasn’t much of a line. Maria Elena gestured to Selah, and then reached out and took her by the wrist and pulled her in through the door, right under the bouncer’s disapproving glare, and into the black hallway beyond.

  “I’ve got to get right on,” yelled Maria Elena into her ear. “Stay inside the club. Don’t talk to anybody. Don’t drink anything. Don’t get any attention, and I’ll find you when I’m done, OK? Any questions or problems, come find me. I’ll be right here!”

  Selah felt panic well up within her. Maria Elena laughed, leaned in and kissed her cheek. “You’ll be fine! Just watch and stay out of the way. Now go!” She gave Selah a push, took off her jacket, threw it behind a black curtain, and marched back outside to the front.

  Chapter Four

  Well, thought Selah, turning to face the interior of the club. Ain’t that the shit. She looked down at herself. She was still in her traveling clothes. Hands flew up to her hair. Of course it was a mess. First destination: bathroom. She hadn’t even brought her purse with her. Painfully self-conscious, she stepped into the next room. Large and dark, lit by fitful blue lighting, the room seemed to serve as a nexus for what looked like three vast rooms beyond, each connected to the other through this central spot. The room straight ahead was lit in glacial blues and featured a bar as long as a train car. The room to the left looked vast, with steps leading down to a dance floor. The one to the right was the smallest and lit in marsh greens. Unsure, she watched people move by, and then locked in on a couple of women as they opened a previously unnoticed door and stepped into what was clearly a restroom.

  Selah followed. Lifted her chin, set a scowl on her face, and pushed in right behind them into a reassuringly average bathroom. The two women were older than Selah, college age perhaps, and both stopped talking as Selah walked in. She ignored them and their stares and hit the mirror. Shook her head. A complete mess. And no purse, no makeup, nothing to work with. Ah, well. All the more reason to hide in a corner like Maria Elena had instructed.

  The two girls had gone back to talking. “Whatever. Some things never change. Anyways, are you going to go with me or not? Or am I going to have to take Max?”

  “Girl, are you serious? You really did score two tickets?” asked the second, leaning back to stare at the first as she applied eyeliner.

  “You doubt it? They’re not exactly front row, but who cares. It’ll be my first night at a Freedom Fight. And it’s going to be a special event. They say some bi
g fighter from UFC is being flown in to compete. Max won’t shut up about it.”

  “I bet you could shut him up if you really wanted to,” said the second, straightening and checking out her work. Her eyes slid over to where Selah stood watching, and she raised one painfully elegant eyebrow. “Can we help you?”

  Selah didn’t say anything, embarrassed at having been caught. She wanted to ask questions, always with the questions, but instead turned and fled back into the nexus. Stood, irresolute, and then walked into the blue room with the bar. Up three steps that she nearly tripped over, and then out to the left, following the far wall. The music was almost punishingly loud, and she watched people yelling into each other’s ears so as to be heard, holding drinks and looking anxiously at the entrance every few moments. Were any of them vampires? Selah found a vaguely uncomfortable yet very modern black chair to sit on and scrutinized them.