by Bones Monroe
Grace nodded as if she understood why food science was so dangerous. Actually, though, his work was a mystery to her.
Nevertheless, she helped him pack up the fresh batch of flavor boosts, and sent out a tweet to their followers about the sale today and set out on their route.
The tweet worked wonders. At every stop, they had a line of people waiting for them when they arrived. Grace had to skip lunch because they were so busy, sneaking a few spoonfuls of ice cream when she could. She liked the new flavor boost. It made the rocky road taste amazing. The marshmallows were firm but not too firm, like a well-rotted tooth. They had a nice, thin crunchy layer on the outside but soft on the inside. Once, she fancied that she tasted a hangnail, a pleasant surprise. It gave the ice cream an unexpectedly delightful texture. She dug into her sample, hoping for another taste. It was her favorite flavor boost so far.
The constant activity took its toll on her, though. Her energy levels dropped as the day wore on. She took a few surreptitious sips of ‘I Can’t Believe It’s Not Blood’ and although it helped, the effects didn’t last long. She began to move slowly and made mistakes. Her mind was clouded.
“Are you okay?” Oliver asked. “You don’t look well.”
Grace leaned up against the counter. “No, I’m really not feeling that well. I think I’m coming down with something.”
Oliver paused for a few seconds, staring at her. “Do you have a temperature?” he asked. He reached over to feel her forehead.
She quickly moved away. “No, I don’t think it’s a fever. Just an allergy. I get those from time to time,” she lied.
Grace sniffled a few times and asked Oliver if she could go home.
“Of course. Go get some rest. I’ll check up on you later.”
By the time Grace got home, she could barely put one foot in front of the other. She was so tired she wanted to drop into bed and sleep for a thousand years.
She crawled into bed, and when she was all snuggled up, and her eyes were closing, the door to her room opened. Her dad stuck his head in and asked, “Honey, what’s wrong? Don’t you want dinner?”
“No. It’s nothing. I’m just tired. I didn’t sleep well. I want to rest.”
“See? I told you this would happen, didn’t I? This is all because you wanted to go to night school. Why didn’t you listen and go to normal school like the rest of the kids? No, you had to go to night school, and now you get sick. I should have put my foot down,” he complained. “Here, let me feel your temperature.”
“NO!” she screeched more forcefully than she intended.
Ben pulled back hastily. “What has gotten into you?”
“Ohh, sorry Dad, it’s just that you know how irritable I get when I’m sick. Can you bring the thermometer? I’ll let you know what it says.”
“Honey, I’m your father, the least I can do is take care of you.”
“Dad, please stop treating me like a child. I have a job now, and I want some independence. Just bring me the thermometer. Please?” she pouted.
Ben sighed in defeat. “Okay.”
Grace put the thermometer under her arm and went to the bathroom. Looking at the reading, she saw that it was at room temperature. That’s a side effect of not having a heartbeat. She ran the thermometer under hot water until it got to about 99 degrees.
“See?” she blurted showing Ben the thermometer before shoving it back into its case. “No fever. Just a little tired. I’m going to take a nap, okay?”
“Mhmmmm,” Ben said watching her close the door behind her.
Are you up there? Are you listening? She’s taking a nap! She NEVER takes a nap. That’s so out of character for her. I know for SURE something’s wrong. Seriously wrong. That sickness that’s going around. Can humans get it? There are no known diseases that cross from inhumans to humans. But we don’t have health insurance anymore. Even if she only has the flu, how on Earth are we going to afford medicine?
And I’m holding you responsible.
Yeah, you.
You sit there watching me. Laughing at me. Like I’m just a piece of paper you can fold up and throw away. I’m not fake, damn you! I am alive, and I have a family! A daughter who’s getting sick with who knows what disease!
I begged and pleaded with you to talk to Author, the Puppet Master guy, and have him leave me and my daughter alone. We’re just trying to survive here. After I lost my job—
Whoa there. Wait a second.
Was he the one responsible for me losing my job? He’s the one that started all this? I’m just a toy to you guys, right? You want to be entertained, is that it? Is that what you depraved pan-dimensional beings want? You have nothing else to do in your pan-dimensional world, so you peek into mine and twist and turn us every which way for your sick entertainment?
Hmmmm. You know, I feel it. I’m right. I know it. That ‘open your mind ritual’ worked. You want to be entertained. That’s it. You want entertainment and the Author wants to control me. You’re two sick, sick co-dependent individuals, do you know that?
I would think intelligent, pan-dimensional beings would be more mature and level-headed than that. Guess not.
Quite a pair you two are. Well, I’ll give you exactly what you want.
You want to be entertained? I’ll give you some entertainment. You’ll be so entertained you won’t know what to do with yourself.
Heh, and I thought you were the nice one.
Whatever, I’m done with you.
I have to take care of Grace. Something's wrong, very wrong. And I'm here chatting with you, and you don't even say anything. No reply, like I’m talking to a wall.
You think I don't know you're there? You're there. I can feel you. I'm not going crazy. Well, I have to take care of my daughter. I know you'll be watching, and I know you won't do anything but just laugh and smirk, and you know what? I don't care, you'll see. I'll get you.
You know everything. Sitting there in your chair, cloud, whatever you use to sit in, looking down at me, judging me, laughing at me.
Well, NO MORE. I might not see you, but I sure can sense you, and you know what? I’m taking charge now. This is my life, and I refuse to be the puppet of the Author. I know he’s pulling the strings. Maybe you’re just watching, but you’re one and the same.
Your sick little game stops here. Ben Coleman is no one’s puppet.
Chapter 17
While Grace napped, Ben waited anxiously in the living room. She wasn’t a napper.
He needed help. But with Lamia gone, he had no support network. Grace had always been as healthy as a horse, so having her sick put Ben completely out of his element.
What can I do? he thought. I can't just sit here and let her wither away. I would call, but the truth is they're not gonna come over into North Wellon. They never come here. We’re on our own. It's just not fair! Ben paced nervously up and down the living room, racking his brain, searching for a solution.
“Oliver!” he said aloud. “That's the only other person I can think of.”
Ben searched through his phone for Oliver’s contact info, but before he found it, he heard a noise come from Grace's bedroom.
Oh good. She's awake, he thought. Let me see how she's doing and get her some dinner. She must be starving.
Ben pushed open the door to Grace's bedroom. She was sitting on the bed in the utter darkness
“Hi honey, how are you doing? Why don’t you turn on the light?” he asked.
“I'm okay. I think I'm getting better but—”
A loud banging on the front door interrupted her.
“CURE Officers! Open this door right now! On the count of three, we will ram the door. CURE officers! ONE!”
Grace and Ben looked at each other in panic. Grace had a terrified look in her eyes and her hands shook. She crawled back along the mattress until her back was against the bed frame.
“What are they doing here?” Ben asked. “They have to have the wrong house.”
“TWO!”
> “I better go open the—”
A loud crash followed by the sound of splintering wood filled the small apartment.
“CLEAR!” someone called from the kitchen.
“CLEAR!” another voice called from the living room.
“BEDROOM! The bedroom door exploded. Two heavily armed CURE officers swarmed through the door and blanketed the room. “COVER,” one agent screamed.
All the agents converged on Ben, pushing him against the wall. They stood guard inside the door pointing heavy assault rifles at Ben and Grace.
By initial appearances, they looked like a SWAT team, but on further inspection, Ben noticed they had undead defense equipment. Besides the flak jackets and bulletproof vests, they had several crosses pinned to their clothes, satchels of lavender and wolfsbane on their belts, silver bullets and vials of holy water.
Ben held up his hands in surrender.
“Don’t shoot! We aren’t slackjaws! We’re human! We have done nothing,” he pleaded.
“SHUT UP! That’s what they all say until they bite you or eat your brains,” the captain shouted at Ben. “What are you?”
“Wha—what?” Ben stammered.
“What type of undead are you? We can take you down whatever you are.”
“We’re not undead! We’re alive. Really!” Ben pinched his skin thinking this would prove his animate state.
The captain wasn’t buying it. He shoved a cross at Ben, putting it on his forearm. When Ben didn’t react, the captain sprinkled holy water on him.
No effect.
Then the captain sprinkled what looked like parsley with bits of brain on him. Annoyed, Ben brushed it off.
“He’s alive! Get him out of here!” the captain grabbed Ben by the shoulder and pulled him away.
He turned to Grace and testing. As soon as he brought the silver cross to bear, she scurried back until she was against the headboard. She clawed at the air attempting to escape the burning sensation.
“VAMPIRE!” the captain shouted.
Immediately, all the agents sprang into action. They surrounded the bed each one holding a cross in front of them trapping Grace in a holy circle.
“No! That’s my daughter. She’s an animate! She’s just feeling sick!” Ben rushed forward but a baton to the abdomen doubled him over and sent him to the ground. He curled on the floor, trying to catch his breath, but still reaching out to Grace.
“That thing ain’t human! Look at how she reacts,” the captain said while he jabbed the cross forward. Grace jerked back.
“Nooo,” Ben gasped. “Mistake.”
Two agents grabbed Ben and took him into the living room.
Three agents surrounded Ben in the living room.
“You’re wrong, she can’t be a vampire. She’s my daughter. You think I wouldn’t know if she was a vampire? That’s not something a father misses,” Ben said shaking his head. “You’re wrong. You have to be.”
“I’m sorry, sir, but the facts speak for themselves,” the captain told Ben.
An agent walked out of the bedroom and handed the captain a small tube of extra strength sunblock. “Cap, I found this.”
The captain held it up so Ben could see it.
“No, you don’t understand. I found that last week. She was holding it for a friend. She’s the only animate in school. You know how peer pressure is. They wanted to test her or something, like a stupid hazing ritual,” Ben explained.
All the agents chuckled. “Pretty creative,” one agent said smirking. “This guy is clueless. You know that having this without a prescription is a class B felony. That's about 25+ years in prison. Your daughter must have a very, very good friend if she wants to take that risk."
The captain took charge. "Listen, I know she's your daughter, or she was your daughter, however, you want to think about it, but the fact remains that just can't change facts," he said.
“Come on, let's go into the bedroom. I want to show you something.” He walked Ben into the bedroom.
As soon as Ben saw Grace, he gasped. Grace was sitting on the bed where he had left her when the CURE agents stormed the bedroom. They had shackled her hands behind her back, a Hannibal Lecter-style facemask covered her mouth and lower jaw, and she was wearing a strange medallion that hung down on her chest.
"What are you doing? This really isn't necessary. She's just a little girl. I'm telling you, she's not a vampire," Ben said, rushing to Grace.
"Are you okay, honey? Did they hurt you?"
Grace shook her head, tears streaming down her face.
"I'm sorry, Daddy. I didn't mean to," she sobbed, her voice muffled by the mask.
Ben swept the hair away from her face, and his fingers brushed her skin. "We need to turn up the heat, you're so cold!"
"This guy …" a CURE agent snickered.
Ben swiveled around and glared at the three agents standing in the room, not knowing which one had made the comment.
"Let it go," the captain said. "Look."
He pulled out of a bag a large flashlight. "This is a modified black light that will detect the application of anti-wolfsbane, anti-garlic, high potency sunblock and marinara sauce."
"Marinara sauce?" Ben asked.
The captain shrugged. "It's a long story. We had a case where there was a wannabe vampire with fake blood and copious amounts of marinara sauce. I'd rather not talk about it."
"Aha! So, you admit that there have been cases where people have pretended to be vampires.” Ben pointed at Grace triumphantly. “Obviously, my daughter is one of those."
The captain shut the lights off and flicked the switch on his flashlight. The room flooded with black light. Everything looked normal, except for Grace. Her face, arms, hands, just about every inch of her skin was bathed in a purple glow.
"See there?” the captain said. “Purple is positive for high potency sunblock. Now you tell me, Mr. Coleman. Why would a healthy young teenage girl be wearing sunblock with SPF 7000?"
Ben stammered, trying to come up with an explanation. “It’s, it’s, … it’s part of the hazing thing. You know how kids are these days,” he said.
The captain shook his head in disbelief and pulled out a small mirror from his waistband. He held it up against Grace.
Ben realized to his unending horror; she had no reflection.
Chapter 18
Ben was back in the living room with only the captain and one other agent keeping him company. "Tell me again, please, why is it you're taking her?"
The captain took a softer tone, apparently seeing Ben in a state of shock over the news about Grace. "We have several reports of an unknown disease spreading through North Wellon and based on our general surveillance we believe she's infected. We cannot allow this contagion to spread. We must contain it."
"And there's no other way?"
"I'm afraid not, Mr. Coleman. By all indications, whatever this is, is only affecting the inhumans, for now. We must study this disease in depth to prevent a full-fledged outbreak. Think of it, if this can kill vampires, what would it do to humans if it crosses over to the living?"
"Kill them? I'm not sure that there is anything worse than dying. If it can kill a vampire, then I guess it can also kill a human."
"That’s what I’m saying," the captain snapped, apparently reaching the end of his compassionate streak. "She’ll be in quarantine at CURE headquarters. You can visit her once she gets settled in. Probably in a few hours."
"What about my front door you shredded to pieces? Are you gonna pay for that?" Ben asked, suddenly aware of the damage to the apartment.
"Talk to the bursar for that. I'm sure they have forms you can fill out. It'll take a few months to straighten out, but you'll get your door."
The captain stood, checked all of his CURE agent weaponry, dusted himself off and walked through the splintered door with Grace in tow.
Ben hung his head, his anger building. This was not acceptable. No one was messing with Grace. He knew what he had to do.
> He launched himself from the couch and sprinted through the destroyed doorway into the hall. He spotted the CURE captain talking to Oliver.
“See if you can control this,” he seethed.
He caught them by surprise. Ben lowered his head and plowed into the captain with his left shoulder. They tumbled down the hall in a jumble of arms and legs.
The holy water vial on the captain’s belt shattered, the wolfsbane satchels tore open, spilling the contents on the floor and the crosses were strewn about. Ben got in a few good licks to the captain’s midsection before his CURE hand-to-hand training kicked in. With a few well-placed jabs, the captain slowed Ben down, and he immobilized him with a chokehold.
"What the hell is wrong with you man?" the captain shouted. "You have a death wish or something? I could've easily shot you. Is that what you want? You don't want to see your daughter again?"
"Entertainment. That's what they want. That's what they get," Ben wheezed.
“What? What are you talking about?”
"Go easy on him, Bob," Oliver said trying to deescalate the situation.
"You saw what this guy did! Assault on an officer. That's a felony."
"Yeah, yeah I saw it," Oliver said soothingly. "But come on, think about it. This guy has had a rough couple of weeks. Lost his job, lost his house, moved in here and now to top it off, find out his daughter is a vampire. That's a lot to take in. That would overwhelm anyone. Wouldn't it you?"
Oliver put one hand under Bob’s armpit to help him up. “C’mon Bob, get off the ground,”
"I'm going to let you go," the captain said to Ben. "And if you make any sudden movements, I will beat you to a pulp. Is that understood?"
"Yeah, I got it," Ben said between gasps for air. He was turning a lovely shade of blue.
The captain, true to his word, slowly released Ben. And Ben, not wanting to be beaten to a pulp, backed off.
The other CURE agent, Agent Drew Swent, exited Oliver’s apartment, “I dropped them off. What happened here?”