The Cure

by Loren Schechter

  “If he tries either, I’ll cut out his heart.” Bunny touched the sheathed knife at her belt and looked at Kathy. “Your knife might still be put to a good use. Get off your mule and grab your things.” She glanced at the others. “Everyone wait here.”

  Leaving the teens to gather up their possessions, Bunny walked a few yards through the brush and sniffed the fresh scents of pine and aromatic weeds. If Bart’s flunkeys are nearby, they aren’t wearing perfume. Shotgun in hand, she zig-zagged down the hill, moving quickly from tree to tree. She gave the SUV a wide berth but spent twenty minutes darting through the woods on both sides of the road, sniffing the air and searching likely observation points without finding anything unusual.

  Returning to the road, she felt the key fob Arthur Bulch had given her weighing heavily in her pocket. “The car’s in mint condition from the dealership,” the custodian had told her. “The salesman who took me for a test drive decided I could keep it. Handles well enough, and the upholstery is beer and bloodstain resistant.”

  The SUV sparkled in the sunlight as if it had recently been washed. She crouched and zigzagged forward, shotgun at the ready. Windows shut tight. Empty!

  She got down on her belly and looked under the car for a bomb. Seeing nothing unusual, she got up and moved from one side window to the next, sniffing around their edges, careful not to touch anything. It took her less than a minute to be sure. The new car odor from outgassing of the organic compounds used in manufacture was contaminated by a scent she’d been exposed to in the military. “Damn you, Bart,” she muttered.

  Bunny jogged back up the hill to her companions. “You were right,” she told Vendetta. “The car’s loaded with plastic explosive.”

  The hit man frowned. “You saw it?”

  “No. It’s hidden. Probably in the luggage compartment or under the seats. I smelled DMNB, the chemical they put in so that dogs and machines can sniff it out.”

  “But you smelled it?” Kathy’s tone expressed doubt.

  “I was always chemically sensitive,” said Bunny. “Being turned made it worse. That’s why I couldn’t stay among vampires. All the perfumes they used drove me crazy.” She looked at Vendetta. “We’re without a car. Should we go down the road and jack the first one that passes, or do we go back and terminate my rotten half-brother?”

  “I don’t think he’ll be there,” said Arvin. “When I went to the cave to get our mules, he and Arthur were riding out with packs.”

  “In the Castellammarese War, we went into hiding until we heard if our hits had been successful,” said Vendetta.

  “You were in the army back in Padua?” asked Lionel.

  Vendetta shook his head. “In 1930, I was a soldier in the Sicilian army in Newark, but I fought in Brooklyn.”

  “Why don’t we use the school limo?” asked Kathy.

  “Because Finkelstein and LittleHawk will need it tomorrow to start East with your friend Hector,” replied Bunny.

  “I can get my car brought up from Boise,” said Vendetta. “It’s as big as the SUV. Where is the satellite phone?”

  “In my pack.” Cradling her shotgun, Bunny went to the U.S. Army backpack that the kids had placed against a tree. She quickly found her phone and handed it to Vendetta. “Walk the kids down the path a half-mile and give your contact the GPS coordinates. Chudkin, you take the mules back to the school. I’m going to blow this car.”

  “Chudkher,” said Arvin.

  “Blow?” asked Soo.

  Raising the shotgun, Bunny spun toward the unfamiliar voice. The Korean newvee. “So you do talk.”

  Soo shrank away from the gun. “Are you going to shoot me?” Her voice was soft and quavering.

  Bunny lowered the shotgun. “Blow up. Explode. I want my half-brother to think he’s put an end to us.” She turned toward Arvin. “Chudkin, give me your GPS locator and cell phone.”

  “They don’t let students have phones. And I’m not supposed to give the locator to anybody.”

  “Tell them I threatened to terminate you. Say that after you started back with the mules, you heard an explosion. The mules bolted and you were worried about finding your way to the school, so you didn’t go back to look. One way or another, you were glad to be rid of me.” She put out her hand. “Give it up, boy. I don’t want them to find this spot too quick. So get lost.”

  Arvin pulled the locator from his pocket and handed it over.

  “Okay,” said Bunny. “Everybody get moving. We’re not on vampire time.”

  Arvin roped the leads of the mules together while the teens gathered up their backpacks and set off after Vendetta. In addition to his pack, the hit man carried a violin case.

  Bunny grit her teeth. An Uzi in that case would’ve been more practical than his precious violin. But Vendetta did things on his terms or not at all. And his bottom line had been that Lionel come along and they stop for three hours a day for violin practice. All he seemed to care about was his own immortality and his string of talented protégés. He’d refused to recognize that every delay diminished their chances of rescuing Dr. Quintz and finding his data.

  Bunny put down her shotgun, squatted next to her pack and extracted a reel of braided fishing line. She heard the mules moving. A shadow loomed over her. Dropping the reel, she dove for the shotgun and came up aiming at Arvin. He didn’t flinch.

  “You’re asking me to lie for you,” he said.

  “So?”

  “So when you write my reference, it’s Chudkher, with an h after the k.”

  “I got it — Chudkher.” She winked at him. “Now go get lost.”

  Arvin clucked his tongue to get the mules moving.

  Bunny picked up the reel of fishing line and took a small pair of shears from her pack. So much easier to operate alone, she thought.Taking on these kids was a mistake. Vendetta’s a bigger problem.

  As she searched for a straight, mostly unobstructed path to the SUV, she considered the most likely ways her brother had set her up. A detonation by cell phone would require one of his Legionnaires to have a good view of the SUV. But Bart wouldn’t risk that she’d spot or smell the kid. So did his bomb maker use a timing mechanism? Or wire the detonator into the ignition? Probably not. Bart knew she’d smell the explosive as soon as she got into the car. His best play would be a pressure release fuze; open any door, the detonator activates, and everyone standing around the car goes boom.

  Tying the end of the fishing line around a thick tree, Bunny unreeled the line as she made her way back to the SUV. She cut the line from the reel and tied the loose end onto the door handle. Leaving the key fob with its Easy Access and Engine Start buttons on top of the hood, Bunny walked back up the hill and lay down behind her anchor tree. She carefully pulled on the line to make it taut. Slight pressure on the door handle might have been enough, but Bunny yanked the line hard.

  A fireball flung the car into the air. The blast pounded her eardrums, made her dig her face into the dirt. A hot wind swept by her as pieces of auto rained down on both sides of the road.

  I’m going to cut out his heart, she vowed.

  14

  The Vampet

  Kathy gaped at the long black car that Vendetta flagged down in the middle of the mountain road. The tires raised a spray of dirt as they crunched to a quick stop. “We’re going in a hearse?” Kathy muttered.

  “Bad karma,” said Soo, standing beside her in the shade of tall pines. “Bad karma is all I have.” Her tone was sad, her face haggard and almost white.

  “You still have Lionel and me.”

  Soo nodded. “Thank you.”

  “We’re solid.” Kathy put her arm around Soo’s shoulders. We just can’t replace your family, she thought.

  Twenty yards downhill, violin case in hand, Lionel stepped through the roadside weeds toward Vendetta. “This is your car?” His voice carried clearly in the crisp mountain air.

  “Why not? It’s a beautiful antique, this Cadillac.” Vendetta walked in front of the car and rewa
rded the driver with a small wave of his hand.

  Bunny directed an angry look toward Vendetta. “I wanted a low-profile car, not a deathmobile with tail fins.” Shaking her head, she moved toward the back of the vehicle. “Get with it, girls,” she said.

  Soo and Kathy picked up their backpacks and headed toward the hearse.

  “It’s also an ambulance.” Vendetta patted the hood. “Superior Crown Royal Combination. More room for passengers.”

  Kathy grimaced. “I hope that coffin in there is empty.” Even so, to drive across the country with it? Is Vendetta handing Bunny a sick vampire joke?

  “You got a dead man in there?” Lionel asked his teacher.

  Bunny tried to open the back door. “It’s locked.”

  “Sometimes I had to move bodies,” said Vendetta. “But not since 1969, when I retired.” He hand-signaled the driver to come out of the car.

  “The car’s that old?” asked Lionel. “It looks pretty good.”

  “It’s a 1960 model. I had a lot of work done on it.”

  The driver’s door opened. Kathy and Bunny stepped around the back of the hearse to view the driver. She emerged with Western boots, long legs encased in colored stitch jeans, a sleeveless red blouse and dark glasses. Under a shaggy, overgrown pixie cut of black hair, her face was heart-shaped, her lips were crimson. Tall and slim, she appeared to be in her early twenties, but a silver nose ring and skull and flower tattoos on her arms suggested she was younger.

  Barbie’s gone punk. At least she doesn’t have fangs. Kathy offered the newcomer a nod and a faint smile.

  The woman took one look at them and her expression turned sour. She shifted her gaze to Vendetta. “Hey, Joey. I did like you said.”

  “Oh, puke,” Bunny muttered. “A vampet.”

  “What’s a vampet?” whispered Kathy.

  “A groupie.” Bunny showed a clenched fist. “I hate women who respect themselves so little they let themselves be treated like junk food.”

  Car keys in hand, the woman stepped toward Vendetta with a wiggle of her hips and an eager-to-please smile. “You going to introduce me?”

  “No, my pet,” said Vendetta. “The less you know, the better. Grazie for bringing the car.” He held his hand out for the keys.

  “Don’t you want me to drive you and your friends wherever you’re going?” The vampet inspected her possible rivals. “You’re not a vampire,” she said to Kathy.

  “Not yet,” said Bunny.

  Kathy flashed her a nasty look.

  “The keys,” said Vendetta.

  The vampet pouted as she handed them over. “You’re not planning on replacing me with the redhead, are you, Joey?”

  “Don’t worry,” said Vendetta as he unlocked the rear door. “Your blood has the tartness of a New Jersey housewife. Your hormones surge through your plasma like gasoline on fire. Why would I trade that for an inferior blend?”

  “Speaking of blood,” said Bunny, “our newvee looks very anemic, Joe. I think little Soo needs a teething lesson and a snack before we get on the road. Open up the back.”

  Vendetta took two steps toward Bunny and shook his head. “You’re not using my girl.”

  “You want me to use mine?” said Bunny.

  Kathy winced as Bunny’s hand clamped down on her shoulder. She got ready to shout and pull away.

  “Let… her… be.” Each of Vendetta’s words seemed encased in a block of ice. “We need her.”

  Kathy’s tension eased.

  “She doesn’t need every drop of her blood,” Bunny protested.

  “No one needs every drop,” agreed the vampet, staying safe behind her master. “But Joey needs all that I can give. I’m helping him not kill any more.”

  “How sweet.” Bunny sneered. “Monster’s little helper. Well be a good girl and give the newvee some blood.”

  “Soo can take some of mine,” said Lionel. With furrowed brow, chin thrust forward and violin case held like a chest protector, he pushed past his music teacher.

  “No, thank you,” said Soo.

  Vendetta grabbed Lionel’s jacket and pulled him back. “Nobody gets a drop of your blood. To be a great artist, you must sacrifice only for your art. And for your teacher, if he asks.”

  “Let Kathy go,” Soo demanded.

  Bunny smiled down at her. “Well look who has fangs.” She waited a few seconds, then took her hand from Kathy’s shoulder and glared at Vendetta.

  Kathy stepped out of Bunny’s reach. She looked at the three vampires baring their fangs. “Don’t we have to be going?”

  “Yes.” Vendetta’s gaze remained fixed on Bunny. “So why let Soo feed now?”

  “If we feed the kid here, we don’t have to stop to hunt for a meal for her.”

  “We’ll have to stop for the other two,” he said.

  “Yeah, but we won’t have to hunt too hard for a McDonalds, or dispose of a body after they eat there. Feeding Soo here will save us time and cut the risk of discovery.”

  “You make good sense for a woman.” Vendetta flipped the car keys to Bunny, then turned to his vampet. “Get in the back and lie down.”

  “Come on, Joey. My blood is for you. You know I don’t like strangers sucking off me.”

  Gently lifting her chin with one hand, Vendetta caressed her neck with the other. “Mio caro,” he crooned, “is there a more generous act than sharing your blood with someone who needs it? Blood is the first gift mothers give their children; it’s what everyone is asked to give after disasters. The very structure of society depends on blood relationships. And this newvee is small. She won’t drink much.”

  “I’m not going to suck her blood,” said Soo. “I don’t even know her.”

  Bunny opened the back door of the hearse. “Would you rather have a go at your friend?”

  “Not either one,” said Soo.

  “Then I’ll take your portion from both of them.”

  “No.” Vendetta pulled his vampet forward. “Soo, permit me to introduce Angela. She has the hottest blood in Boise.”

  “Which is not saying much,” said Bunny.

  Vendetta’s glare was like an invitation to war. “Will you let me do this?” he snapped. He turned back to Soo. “It is our good fortune that Angela comes from New Jersey with Sicilian blood. Angela, this is Soo, who comes from Korea. At the school, we found Soo far more lethal than her size and good manners suggested. So — you are no longer strangers. Be nice to each other, please, and no one will suffer unnecessarily.”

  “Do we have to do it in the coffin?” Angela whined. “The plastic liner made it real uncomfortable the last time I did it there.”

  Vendetta put his arm around Angela’s shoulders. “Understand this, il mio amore — Soo’s a virgin newvee. She’s embarking on a long journey, both as a vampire and with us as we travel. She needs instruction. I don’t want her to put a big gouge in your pretty neck. She has to learn how to bleed prey without losing a drop. Vampire virgins are liable to slurp, drool, spit, even throw up.” Vendetta cleared his throat. “It would be most unfortunate if blood were to stain the upholstery. Bunny, as you want this done here, why don’t you sit on one of the jump seats and supervise.”

  Bunny licked her lips. “Bleed and feed, then we go? Let’s get to it, girls.”

  “I don’t like this,” said Soo.

  “You will.” Vendetta took his arm from Angela’s shoulders to gently pinch the vampet’s cheek. “Good girl. We’ll give you blood sisters privacy. Lionel, Kathy and I will take a walk. Honk the horn when it’s done.” He turned to walk up the road. “Come!” he commanded.

  “This is awful,” said Kathy, her hand on her throat. She looked at Soo. Her friend stood hunched over, staring at the ground.

  “It’ll be worse if you don’t do as he says,” Bunny warned.

  Soo looked up. “Go, Kathy. I don’t want you to see this. I want you to remember me as the girl I was.”

  Kathy’s chest ached. Her fingers touched the jade tiger she wo
re around her neck. “You’ll always be that girl to me.”

  “I hope so.” Soo took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. “Now go!”

  15

  Cat and Mouse

  A slatted pattern of moonlight leaked through the window blinds onto the dead cat that lay on Angela Dwinch’s bedspread. In the bedroom’s darkest corner, Dr. Bartholomew Baneful sat on a chair tucked between the wall and a rickety dresser that sagged under the burden of a flat-screen TV. Despite his turtleneck sweater, leather gloves and motorcycle jacket that sported the Satanic Legion logo, Bart felt cold. He missed the geothermal heat of his mountain school and longed to comfort himself with another pint of warm blood. Although usually a very patient predator, he was thinking that each minute he spent waiting for the vampet to come home meant he was another minute behind Bunny and Vendetta in their quest for a cure that would destroy his world. If teens could freely choose life over undeath, where would he find new recruits for the Legion? And without a strong Legion, how could he fulfill his destiny?

  The sound of footsteps coming up the stairs brought a smile to Bart’s lips. Angela was in for a surprise. She’d protest and pout, but she’d do what he wanted. The girl was weak, had no integrity. Not as bright, but not all that different than Mom taking Dad’s abuse, afraid to leave, always excusing his behavior. He and Bunny had both suffered from his father’s rages and their mother’s weakness, taking their anger out on each other. So he’d relished draining his parents of their wealth and their blood, making them experience betrayal, paralysis, and helplessness. How else could they really appreciate what he’d gone through as a six-year-old with Guillain-Barre, and what Bunny had put him through thirty-five years later?

  He heard the opening click of the apartment door’s lock, then the sounds of someone entering, closing and locking the door. He sniffed, but Angela’s rosewater scent pervaded her bedroom; he just had to assume that it was she who went to the living room closet, then into the kitchen and turned on the water faucet. Even Satan couldn’t predict how long she’d be out there. He got to his feet, retrieved the dead tabby and, carrying it by its tail, went out to surprise her.