The Cure

by Loren Schechter

  35

  Live Student, Dead Bodies

  At the top of the dark stairway, Hector tripped over a body. His knees hit the carpet and his hands slapped cold tile. He rolled into the tiled bathroom as a gun barked and a bullet hit the wall outside. Shit! He scrambled away from the door until stopped by a bathtub. A shotgun fired. A man screamed and then there was silence. “Edna! Arvin’s shot,” he whispered, certain the vampires could hear him.

  There was no response, no sound at all. Cautiously, Hector started to get up. He froze as he became conscious of a silent presence in the doorway.

  “Stay in here,” LittleHawk said softly. “There’s one more.”

  Then she was gone, presumably on her way down the stairs although he didn’t hear so much as a creak. Is Arvin okay?

  Down the hall, shots rang out, someone groaned and a body crashed against glass. Hector heard a man’s terrified voice.

  “Who are you? What are you doing?”

  “Making sure he’s dead, darling. That comes before introductions.”

  Finkelstein!Not even trying to keep his voice down. Hector moved to the door. Safe to go out? Edna said “stay.”

  “Okay, this one won’t bother us. My name is Isadore Finkelstein. More important is the name of my associate and your patient, Miss Bunny Baneful.”

  “She’s here?”

  Knowing Finkelstein would hear him, Hector cleared his throat.

  “I regret not,” said the vampire, “but she was wise enough to send me as her ambassador and to give me a photo of you taken in better days. I regret, Dr. Quintz, that we meet this way. Let me assure you that we will do you no harm.”

  “No harm? You’re vampires! You just killed the men who were protecting me.”

  “Imprisoning you,” said Finkelstein. “Once they determined you had no backup data beyond what they already had, they would have forced you to work for them or killed you.”

  “Mr. Finkelstein,” Hector called. “Is it safe to come join you?”

  “For the moment,” said Finkelstein. “In the master bedroom. But we really must be going.”

  “Who’s that?” Quintz demanded.

  “One of my students. We had to bring him with us to protect him from involuntarily joining the undead. As a guidance counselor, I don’t usually approve of exposing live students to dead bodies, but we’ll do a lot of trauma work later. Hector?”

  “Here.” A flashlight beam caught him in the face as came through the doorway. Blinking, he barely managed to avoid the legs of Quintz’s erstwhile protector, now dead on the floor. “Please lower the light.” As the beam moved to Finkelstein, Hector glimpsed broken glass on a dresser behind where the vampire stood. Quintz’s voice came from an armchair beside a large bed.

  “You’re not a vampire. What are you doing here?”

  “Trying to stay alive,” said Hector.

  “Trauma,” said Finkelstein with a nod for emphasis. “Actually, this fine young man has been attending our wilderness school for eight months and, as you can see, he is still very much in the pink. He is living proof we vampires can restrain our base impulses when we know that a warmblood is working for our benefit as well as his or her own. Of course, Miss Baneful has already demonstrated such restraint in her meetings with you, but we wanted to show you other vampires are equally capable.”

  “And you had to kill six or eight good men to show that?” There was no mistaking the anger in Quintz’s tone.

  “Regrettable.” Edna LittleHawk’s voice came from the doorway.

  Hector spun around to face her. Quintz’s light caught the broad forehead and troubled face of the Shoshone.

  “But there was no other way to get to you,” she said. “They tried just as hard to kill Bunny when she came to your office in the hospital. This rotten branch of DHS wants to wipe us off the face of the earth. We will do whatever it takes to survive until some day we can be cured. We want you to work with us to bring that day closer.”

  “Where are you taking me?” asked Quintz.

  “We can discuss that in the car,” said LittleHawk.

  Hector looked over her shoulder. “Where’s Arvin?”

  “We own a hospital in Boise,” said Finkelstein. “We can expand its laboratory facilities.”

  “Boise? Are you kidding? My lab’s at Mass General.”

  “You can’t go back there,” said LittleHawk. “But we must leave now. When the dead men do not check in, reinforcements will come.”

  “I’m not going to hide out in some two-bit vampire hospital in Idaho,” said Quintz.

  “How’s Arvin?” Hector demanded.

  “He’s downstairs,” said LittleHawk. “Willingly or not, Doctor, you are coming with us. Take only what you absolutely need – and quickly.”

  “Is he hurt bad?” Hector asked.

  “Go downstairs with him,” she murmured to Finkelstein.

  He’s terminated! Blinking back tears, Hector pushed by her and was out the door, running through the dark hallway. He leaped over the corpse at the top of the stairs and, with one hand on the bannister, took the steps four at a time. The dead guard had been pulled into the house and the front door closed. Still clutched in his hand, a flashlight illuminated guns and stains on the floor. Hector pulled the flashlight from the dead hand and rushed from one corpse to another.

  He found Arvin’s body in the living room, laid out in front of the cold fireplace. Arvin’s hair clumped like matted straw down to his closed eyes. His face was white and frozen with pain. LittleHawk had folded Arvin’s hands across the wounds in his chest. Falling to his knees, Hector gripped his friend’s icy hands and sobbed.

  36

  Mutual Benefit

  Harry Winkish stepped into the motel room and switched on the light.

  Surprise! thought Bart, taking aim with his pistol. “Don’t reach for your weapon,” he told the startled agent. “I would rather talk to you than kill you. So raise your hands. Put them behind your head.” He’s big, looks ex-military. The facial scar’s too old and clean for a war wound; it’s probably from cleft lip surgery in childhood.

  Winkish narrowed his eyes at the semi-automatic aimed at his chest. He pursed his lips as if considering his options, then slowly raised his hands.

  “How the hell did you get in here?” asked Winkish.

  “Does it matter? Now sit down on the bed. We have precious little time. I believe that even though we may want to kill each other, we both have a more important goal.”

  “And what’s that?” Winkish perched on the end of the king-size bed.

  Bart angled his free hand to keep his wristwatch camera focused on the agent’s face. “We both want to make sure that Dr. Quintz and whatever backup data he entrusted to his daughter never see the light of day.”

  “You telling me vampires don’t want a cure?” Winkish scoffed.

  Bart gave a disapproving grunt. “Why would any rational being give up immortality and superior powers in exchange for a body that will age and fall ill? Tell me, haven’t you ever thought of joining the team that will win the next evolutionary high-jump?”

  “You vampires are so arrogant. We’ll hunt you until you’re as extinct as the sabre-tooth tigers.”

  He afforded the agent a thin smile. “It’s not going to happen. You’d have to hunt not only in dark streets and mountain hideaways, but in the jungles of economic and political power. I could help you with that. I could give you names.”

  “Why would you do that?”

  “To advance my own interests, of course.” Sincerity can be so useful in small doses. “Right now, my overriding interest is to destroy any hope of a cure for vampires. You’ve taken Dr. Quintz and his work, and now you’re after whatever backup data he entrusted to his daughter.”

  Winkish opened his mouth as if to speak, but he said nothing.

  “Is there a problem?”

  “Can I put my hands down?”

  “If you can sit like a statue yet have something usef
ul to say.”

  The agent lowered his hands to his lap. “I guess it was you or one of your kind that visited Rose’s dorm this evening. If you’d found what you were looking for, you wouldn’t have come to me. What makes you think Dr. Quintz gave her anything significant?”

  “Among other things, the fact that DHS agents are still at the school.” He lowered his pistol an inch. “The danger to your goal and mine comes from a small group of vampires who are determined to find a cure for what they see as a genetic disease rather than an evolutionary advancement. They’re on campus or soon will be. I have their names and photos. You have more resources to stop them.”

  “And what do you want for that information?”

  “Four small matters of mutual benefit. First, I want those renegade vampires terminated.”

  “No problem. After a military trial, of course. All you mons – you aliens bleed and murder our citizens and threaten national security.”

  “No need to try to spare my feelings, Major. I’m a monster to you, but not to me or those who believe in me. Labels like ‘monster’ and ‘traitor’ just depend on which side you’re on.”

  “The difference is that I’m on the right side.”

  Bart laughed. “Well, see if you can stretch your small mind to see us on the same side for one goal. All copies of Dr. Quintz’s findings and work must be destroyed, or at least buried for a hundred years.”

  “We have no intention of allowing him or anyone else to publish his work. People would panic and see vampires everywhere. Vigilantes would go after every minority group. And the bleeding heart liberals would try to have us feel sorry for you guys. Suddenly, you’re not monsters or killers but addicts who need to be cured. Except there’s no real cure for addiction.”

  Bart shrugged. “So you’ll bury Quintz’s work?”

  “Without a qualm. But I’m neither the commanding General nor a vampire, so I can’t guarantee a hundred years.”

  “What a pity that you’re not in charge.” Bart sighed. “Such is life. Well, you must convince your superiors to destroy the doctor’s work and lock him away forever as a dangerous traitor.”

  “I’ll certainly try.”

  “Then another, smaller detail: the group of vampires I spoke of are travelling with a few warmblood teenagers who have been co-opted and, in my opinion, know too much about vampires to be left alive. I want one of them, a boy named Hector Campos. But you can do what you want with the others, as well as with Dr. Quintz and his daughter.”

  Winkish frowned. “There’s a problem with that,” he said.

  “With giving Campos to me? Surely the boy can’t be that important to you.”

  “He’s not. Earlier tonight, vampires attacked the safe house in which we were holding Quintz. A squad of good men were killed. And we lost the doctor.”

  Bart grit his teeth. Incompetent warmbloods! “Your men let Quintz get taken alive?”

  “We presume so. Can you get him back for us?”

  “So you can lose him again?” Better to kill Quintz and his daughter. “Why did you even keep him in Massachusetts?”

  “He demanded to spend a day with his daughter before he’d tell us where he had his backup data. We were in the process of setting that up.”

  “She has the data?”

  “He said she didn’t, that he’d hidden it elsewhere. He could be lying, but we couldn’t find it when we searched her and the dorm room. You couldn’t find it on her computer?”

  Bart shook his head. “No. But if you give me some room to operate on campus, I can call in a few associates, catch some of those rogue vampires and deliver Quintz, his daughter and the backup data to you within 24 hours.”

  “We could do that without your help.”

  “Your team failed with the girl and again with Quintz. It will again. I know the weaknesses of our opponents and, unlike your government, I have no rules about what you politely call ‘advanced interrogation’. Give me and my associates a free hand for 24 hours. We’ll get you Quintz without hurting any of the students or faculty. You make sure we get the rogue vampires and guarantee we can walk away without being pursued.”

  The agent’s furrowed brow suggested he was thinking about the offer. “Even if you’re telling me the truth,” he said slowly,”I’d be abandoning my duty to let you and your associates go free.”

  “For a greater good for you and the country? Look, I won’t insult your patriotism by offering you millions of dollars, and you seem unmoved by the prospect of eternal life, so I’m willing to give you the names of five major companies and their vampire owners. Bringing down any one of those companies would propel you into the leadership ranks of DHS. Bringing down five would guarantee a bright future in government or politics.”

  Winkish snorted. “You expect me to trust that you’ll keep your word?”

  “Not any more than I expect you to keep yours. So here’s a payment in advance, useful no matter what you decide.” If you’re alive to use it. Bart pulled a small envelope from his pocket. With a flick of his wrist, he tossed it to Winkish.

  The agent tore open the envelope and extracted two slips of paper. As he read the first, his eyes widened. “S’Right Corporation?”

  “Sucks Right,” said Bart.

  The agent went to the second slip. “Nukem, Inc.? But they supply our government.”

  “Which is why many vampires consider them traitors,” said Bart. “We’re not perfectly sure we’re immune to radiation poisoning. So do we have a deal?” His finger caressed the pistol’s trigger.

  The agent’s eyes widened. “Ease up! I need some specifics. What exactly do you see me letting you do?”

  “Unless you hear gunshots, keep your agents outside the campus buildings. I’ll bring in some people of my own. I’ll call when we need you to move in to take prisoners. My men will be wearing black uniforms with a red shoulder patch. Except for a large man named Arthur Bulch, who is my bodyguard, they are expendable. Bulch and I get a free pass to leave with Hector Campos as our prisoner. We are not to be followed.”

  Winkish raised his eyebrows. “You have no objection to what we do with your other men?”

  “It would look too suspicious to your superiors if you didn’t capture or terminate a few vampires. So, are you on board or not? I can’t give you more time.”

  “You mentioned millions of dollars,” said Winkish, but you neglected to say how many. I really do like small details and big numbers.”

  “Ah!” Baneful smiled. There’s no end to greed among mortals. Or to how a clever vampire can manipulate it. “Did I fail to say ten million dollars? That’s not negotiable. After I’m safe away, the money will be transferred to an offshore account to which you’ll have access. And I’ll call you with the other three names of vampire companies.”

  “How can I be sure?”

  “How can either of us be certain of the other? I gave you two companies to investigate. And we’re both determined to bury the cure. That’s going to have to be enough for now. So, do we have a deal or not?”

  “Unfortunately, my commander, General Corkle, would take a very dim view of any deal. I regret that I’m limited by the very narrow mind of a political appointee.”

  “You’re asking me to free you of that burden?”

  Winkish shrugged. “I’m just saying I’d have much more freedom to act. It would serve both of our interests.”

  “I agree that freedom is vital,” said Bart. “Will you guarantee my freedom if I unleash yours?”

  “Yes, definitely. Now tell me about those rogue vampires and the kids.”

  37

  It's Not All About You

  Hector awakened to the sound of a toilet being flushed somewhere else in the motel. Consciousness brought him the musty odor of the room, the aches of his body and the rub of a twisted sheet against his skin. Without warning, he was choked by grief. Arvin’s gone forever. Gave up immortality to save me. Shit!

  Coughing, he opened his eyes. Motes of dus
t quivered in the sunlight that leaked around the edges of the shabby curtains. Beyond the other bed, still neatly made, Finkelstein stood facing a wall. In his wrinkled brown suit, white prayer shawl and black skull cap, he rocked back and forth as he prayed silently.

  What is it with this guy? Last night he kills people and drinks their blood, this morning he prays? Does that make him feel less guilty?

  Hector sat up. His backpack was on a chair, yesterday’s bloody clothes littered the worn carpet. He remembered crying in the shower more vividly than the events in the car. Numb as he’d been, he’d understood that Dr. Quintz had objected vehemently to being dragged away from one set of captors to serve another at the cost of many lives.

  Hector got out of bed and took clean boxers, socks, a rumpled pair of jeans and a tee shirt from his backpack. He dressed quickly and went to the bathroom. When he came out, Finkelstein was putting his prayer shawl into a backpack on his bed.

  “What’s the plan?” Hector asked.

  “You were in the car last night. You didn’t hear?”

  “I couldn’t stay tuned in.”

  “It was a great loss, our Arvin.”

  Hector blinked back tears.

  “Hard to talk about?” Finkelstein sighed. “Look, go across the road and get yourself a good breakfast. I’ll stay here and watch TV until it’s time to check in with Edna and Bunny. Don’t show your face more than you have to. Edna thinks she got all the video from the security cameras, but it’s possible there was a feed to a remote location and you’re now the poster boy at Homeland Security.”

  Hector’s eyes cut to the television atop the dresser. Finkelstein hadn’t even turned it on. “They’ll have my picture on the news?”

  “Don’t worry, darling. There’ll be nothing on the news this morning. You think DHS will want to admit they lost ten agents protecting a famous scientist who got kidnapped anyway?” Finkelstein inserted the velour bag into his backpack and zipped it up. “The safe house will be bulldozed and in a day or two a helicopter crash into the ocean will be reported as a training accident. Meanwhile, they’re out searching for a murderous pack of vampires. If they have our pictures, we’ll be called armed terrorists and the public will be urged to report any sightings.” He lowered the backpack to the floor and sat down.