by Alex Dire
“Lucky miss, for you, old friend.”Skeete leapt atop Shapiro's desk “Let’s fix that now.” She sprang toward Norman.
Time slowed. Norman heard a thud and caught an image of Felicia smashing against the wall. He heard Richie growling in pain. He watched Skeete gliding through the air. Norman fell onto his back forcing the stake in deeper. The pain nearly swept away his consciousness. He tucked his knees against his chest and felt the tip of the stake poke between them. Skeete landed against Norman's feet and he kicked out. One of Skeete's fingernails gashed Norman's cheek just before she sailed back across the room. She smashed against the window, breaking it into shards.
Norman pushed himself to his knees, pain jolting from his wound. Felicia slumped against the ground.
Cindy dropped Declan's wrist and crawled to Felicia.
Jason grabbed at a stake in his back as Richie reeled, dazed by the circle of blood on his own shirt. Felicia’s thrust had gone right through the thug and pierced Richie as well.
Norman heard the jingle of broken glass behind him. “Richie, grab him. Now!”
Richie snapped back into the moment. He grabbed the struggling vampire thug and bashed the back of his skull down onto the reception desk. His head slammed with the sound of cracking bone.
The henchman reached up and grabbed Richie around the neck with one hand. With the other he grabbed the pointy end of the spike sticking out of his own abdomen. He began pulling it out through his front. He screamed with every inch, never letting go of Richie’s throat. Richie struggled desperately to keep his opponent’s head pinned to the desk.
Keon and his group dashed to the desk to help hold the vampire down. But Jason was strong and Richie had not yet realized his full power. The students were gnats buzzing around the combat.
Norman stood and turned back to Skeete. He picked up a heavy metal coat rack next to the doorway and dashed toward the broken window. Pain from his shoulder radiated through his body. As Skeete lifted herself from the shattered glass, he slammed the rack down on her head. The metal bent on impact with her skull and she slumped over with a groan.
Norman spun and lurched toward the doorway to the main office. Pain grabbed him by the shoulder and scraped its fingers down his body, slowing him. He leaned against the doorway, gasping for breath. Vitality drained from him. He tried to grip the stake in his back. If he could get it out, he'd heal. He could fight. But the wood tore at him like nothing else could. He looked on, near helpless, the last of his energy exerted with Skeete.
Cindy shook Felicia. “Come on. Let's get out of here.”
Jason lay against the front desk. He had completed his excruciating extraction of the stake. Bits of red dripping gristle tangled in the leather loop at its end. Richie grabbed for the vampire's hand desperately, but every time he tried, the thug nearly wrenched free of Richie's grip. Keon and the others once again pulled at Jason’s arm, trying to hold it back or divert it. As before, their interference had little effect.
The point of Richie’s home-made stake now pressed against his own chest. A smile crossed Jason’s face. Richie held on to the brute’s neck.
Jason locked eyes with Richie. Richie's knuckles turned white, squeezing tighter.
“G'night, asshole,” rasped the brute.
Norman watched on, desperately trying to catch his breath. Jason pushed the stake. It tore fabric and flesh as it slid to a spot between two ribs. Jason pushed deeper, through muscle. Richie closed his eyes.
Norman felt his progeny resign himself to endless sleep. Fight, Richie. Fight! He fell to his knees, the wood through his own shoulder preventing his wound from healing. Norman closed his eyes as well. He’d watch Richie die once. Not again.
A guttural yell cut through Norman's pain and despair. Not Richie. A new voice. Norman opened his eyes. Jason looked toward the office door, his head still pinned to the desk. Richie looked up as well. They both stared at Chubs standing inches away from them. The furious youth stood, muscles tensed, hands raised above his head grasping a textbook.
Richie rolled out of the way. Jason released the stake, trying to lift up his hands in defense.
Chubs brought down his hands with massive force, smashing Jason's head with his 1,647-page hardcover copy of The Collected Works of William Shakespeare. The blow opened the crack in Jason’s skull. Blood oozed onto the front desk. His limp form slid to the ground.
Chubs looked up at his student teacher and classmates who stared at him, wide-eyed. He dropped the book to the ground. “Shakespeare, bitches.”
Richie pulled the stake out of Norman’s back. The wound seared with pain, then cooled with relief. The injury began healing immediately and his strength returned.
“You OK?” asked Richie.
“I could use a drink.j You?”
Richie nodded and put a hand over the blood stain on his chest.
Norman slipped the stake from the thug's limp hand. He looked at Chubs and searched for words. He smiled at the breathless student. “I’m canceling your detention.”
Norman offered the stake to Richie. “Let’s finish this.”
Before Richie could move, a hiss exploded from the wounded thug’s mouth and his fangs shot out. Norman dropped to the ground and plunged the stake into his chest. The inhuman scream of a dying vampire roared from his mouth as he expired.
Norman scanned the office. Felicia, Cindy, and Declan helped each other up. They had several spots of blood on their faces and arms, but nothing that would require a trip to the emergency room. Keon and the others breathed rapidly, recovering from the ordeal.
Chubs stared at the morbid wound in the dead vampire’s chest.
Norman imagined this boy’s street life must have brought him many horrors, but never anything like this.
“Who the fuck were they?” asked Chubbs.
“Vampires," came a voice from the doorway. Everyone turned to see Matt Barnes in his ever-present trench coat.
Declan responded, genuinely confused, “What?”
Matt shot him an annoyed look. “Clearly, you aren’t trying very hard. Look around you. Giant Fangs. Stakes to the heart.”
All the students swiveled their heads. Then they looked to Norman. He didn't know how to respond or how much to reveal. As he wondered, the students' faces changed. The fear mixed wonder.
“What?” said Norman.
The students continued to stare as they collectively took a step back.
“The gash on your face.” Richie pointed “It’s healing.”
Norman reached up to touch his cheek. He felt the cut from his melee with Skeete binding itself back together. In seconds, the wound disappeared entirely.
The whole class stood motionless.
“Uhhh…” was all Norman could get out before the sound of tinkling glass came from Headmaster Shapiro’s office.
“Skeete,” said Richie.
Norman dashed into the office. Only the corpses remained. A breeze blew through the broken window.
“This is bad,” said Norman, poking his head out the window and scanning around. “Skeete will be back for us.”
“We need to get out of here. Hide,” said Richie.
“It’s not that simple, now. She’ll come for the kids. She’ll kill them one by one to flush us out into the open. If she has more friends, they’ll come in force.”
“It’s about to get worse,” replied Richie. “Others will come to the office and see all this.”
“We need to move, now,” said Norman.
Norman and Richie returned to the main office a moment later. “Skeete’s gone,” said Norman.
“How’d you do that…you know... with your face, Bernie…uh…Mr. Bernard?” said Declan.
Matt shook his head, “Unbelievable.”
Felicia said, almost in a whisper, “He’s a vampire, too?”
Norman thought about his options for a moment, then cleared his throat. “Kids, Matt is correct. Skeete and these two men are vampires.”
The st
udents held their breaths, sensing there was more.
“And Felicia is right, too. I am a vampire. So is Mr. Taylor.”
They all stepped away as if Norman's words made what had become obvious, true.
“I’m sorry to have to tell you all like this, but there’s no more time to explain,” said Norman. “You have to come with us right now.”
“Why?” said Cindy, barely able to get out the word.
“Because if you don’t, Skeete will return for you and she will surely kill you.”
12
Field Trip
Norman got Headmaster Shapiro’s coat from a rack and put it over Richie’s shoulder’s to hide the blood on him. Matt Barnes offered Norman his trench coat for the same purpose. In a few seconds, everyone had cobbled together enough clothing to hide the obvious signs of the combat that had just transpired.
Norman looked at all his students and counted. Seven in total plus Richie, all looking to him for instructions, their faces quivering with fear. They had passed into a world way outside their understanding. They looked to Norman to lead.
Unlike every other day in his teaching career, today these students would do exactly as he asked without hesitation or vamping. They were no longer a jumble of public school rejects. They had entered a new world together. The events of the previous minutes had organized them into a coherent group and installed Norman at its helm. Norman shuddered with dread. He didn’t like groups. He liked their leaders less. He didn’t trust that arrangement. That’s why he liked Night School. Every teacher for himself with token leadership. But all that was over now.
“Where are we going, Mr. Bernard?” asked Felicia.
“My place. And then…” The group waited for the end of the sentence. “We’ll figure it out from there.” He looked around and saw the fear and puzzlement on the faces of his students. The impenetrable aura of toughness they worked so hard to cultivate had vanished. They were just kids. They needed to know someone would take care of them. Norman was failing them. “It’s going to be OK,” he said. They appeared unconvinced. “We need to go.”
“I’m out,” said Chubs before anyone could move.
“Not a good idea, Marshall,” said Norman. “I imagine you’ve got an especially large target on your back. Thanks to your…creative use of Shakespeare.” He nodded over at the staked vampire with the crushed head. “I think you should come with us.”
“Daeshaun,” was all Chubs needed to say for Norman to understand.
Norman nodded. “Find a new place to stay if you can. Quickly.”
Chubs nodded. “I knew this whole Night School thing wasn’t going to work out.” He removed his sunglasses. “Thanks for trying, Mr. Bernard.” His eyes were full of regret.
Norman imagined this tiny display was the tip of an iceberg of anguish. He wondered if he’d ever see the young man who stood before him again. He also wondered if, with this new threat, Marshall Stanley’s chances had really gotten any worse than they’d always been. The streets were full of monsters. Chubs turned to leave.
“Wait,” said Norman. He walked over to the dead vampire and pulled the stake from his chest and handed it to Chubs. “You might need this. Make more.”
Chubs slid the gristly stake into his belt, locked eyes with Norman for a moment and left the office. A few steps out Chubs paused looking down the hall. He slid his glasses back over his eyes. He was no longer just a kid. He was Chubs again. “What the fuck y’all looking at? Get back in your rooms and do your damn jobs.”
Norman heard the sound of classroom doors closing. Chubs looked back into the office for a moment and was gone.
Norman moved for the door. “We need to go back to the room for the others”
Richie grasped his arm, stopping him. “I’ll go. You take these kids back to the condo.”
Norman opened his mouth to speak.
Richie interjected, “Don’t worry. We’ll catch up.” He released Norman’s arm and sped out the door. “Before sunrise.”
Norman poked his head out and looked both ways. He waved his students forward. They followed him out.
Norman sat in the center of his sofa. His students took up all his seats as well as spots on his floor. He held his hand on top of a small stack of papers on the coffee table. A pen lay next to them. “I’m sorry you have become part of this.”
“Part of what?” asked Darius.
Norman’s mind churned through the words he might say next. How much should he explain? How much could they understand? How far back should he start the story? Less is more, he concluded.
Felicia looked up at him and broke the growing silence. “How are you a vampire, Mr. Bernard?”
“Are there a lot of vampires?” asked Darius.
Matt looked on with a smile. He seemed to be enjoying this. He radiated a confidence as if these recent bizarre events had given him some new validation.
Norman took a breath. “Until Mr. Taylor came to our class, I thought I was the only one.” He looked around at their eyes. “I know there are few, but I don’t know how many.”
“Why a few?” asked Matt.
“Because we’re all dead. Well, most of us.”
“What happened?” said Matt.
Declan interrupted. “What else is out there? Zombies? Werewolves? Hobbits?”
Matt slowly turned his gaze to Declan, annoyed.
“No such things, just us,” said Norman.
“How do you know?” asked Declan.
“I’ve never seen them. And I’ve been around a long time,” replied Norman.
Cindy spoke up. “I’d never seen a vampire.”
After a contemplative lull, Matt added, “There’s no such thing…until there is.”
“Anyway,” said Norman, “I never meant for you to get involved in anything like this. But you are now. We all are.” He had their attention. He looked down at the stapled stack of papers on the coffee table and picked up the pen. He flipped to the last page and signed his name on the bottom.
“Felicia,” he said, turning to the girl just shy of womanhood. “Sign right here, please.”
She obeyed without objection.
When she finished Norman asked, “So how do you like this place?”
“Um. Nice?”
“Good, It’s yours now,” said Norman tapping the papers she’d just signed.
She flipped through them. “What? It’s mine? Why?”
“It’s for all of you,” responded Norman. “Well, technically it’s yours, Felicia, but I’m giving it to all of you. Whatever happens to me, I’m giving this place to you.”
His students looked on waiting for more of an explanation. “That’s it?” asked Matt.
“Well…” started Norman. However, a bang at the door interrupted his thought.
Norman approached the door. “Richie?” No voice replied.
Declan started to hyperventilate. “What do we do?”
Norman raised a hand to indicate stay calm.
“Grab something made of wood,” said Matt.
The students looked around. A stupid suggestion considering Norman’s pseudo-mod decor.
Norman walked to the door and looked through the peep hole. Nothing. “Richie, is that you?” Norman repeated. He peered for another moment then stood back up and turned around to address his students.
Cindy stuttered, “Who is it?”
“I’m not sure. We need to get out of here, now.”
“What about Mr. Taylor?” asked Keon, piping up for the first time since they’d left the office. Ritchie had been a bit of a basketball player himself in his human days and had taken Keon under his wing. “He’s going to come here looking for us.”
“We’ll have to catch up with him on the outside,” said Norman. “Everybody get to the fire escape.”
The class moved toward the windows to leave. However, as they approached the glass, two figures dropped down from above and landed on the fire escape behind each window. The students jumped back.
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The front door exploded into the apartment. The students shielded their eyes from flying splinters and a cloud of powdered plaster.
When the air cleared, Skeete stood there, just outside the doorway. Three more figures stood behind her. Norman did some quick math in his head. At least six vampires against just one, plus seven students. He couldn’t win this fight. But he wouldn’t need to.
“Hello Norman,” said Skeete. “So nice to see you again, so soon. We really have to stop meeting like this.”
Norman’s students didn’t move, like scared prey hoping their stillness would help them remain overlooked. Matt finally ran over to the kitchen counter. He reached for an old Chinese takeout box and withdrew two chop sticks. He turned and faced the doorway with one chopstick clenched in each fist. He gulped hard and waited.
“Very cute,” chuckled Skeete bearing a sympathetic face toward Matt.
“You can’t win, here,” said Norman. “Go back.”
“Oh Norman. I’m not sure how you survived the war three years ago. But I am sure you will not survive this night,” said Skeete. She signaled to her men behind her and they all advanced to the apartment.
“I don’t want to die,” whispered Darius.
“No one lives forever,” said Tyreese.
Skeete failed to enter. She huffed, scowling.
“What’s going on?” said Felicia.
Norman, who never broke his cool, walked to the edge of the doorway and stood face to face with Skeete. “Not tonight, Skeete. Go back.”
The vampires on the fire escape became enraged and hissed as their fangs descended.
“What’s this?” growled Skeete.
“You’re not invited,” replied Norman. He smiled. “Right Felicia?” he said over his shoulder.
Everyone turned to Felicia who displayed a who me? face.
“The deed,” said Matt relaxing his grip on the chop sticks.
Felicia looked down into her hands where she still held the clipped stack of papers.
“They can’t come in unless Felicia invites them,” said Matt. “I highly suggest you don’t do that.”