by Alex Dire
“Why don’t you go get something to eat first,” said Mr. Bernard.
“Thanks,” Ivol replied, shuffling quickly over to the group.
Norman joined Ian and Rufus, who talked quietly over a map of their own. As he approached, Ian looked up and said, “Ah. I hope you’re feeling a bit refreshed. We could use your help.”
Norman could see Rufus clenching his jaw in disapproval. “Help with what?”
“Saving us,” Ian continued. He paused to let it sink in. “It’s the reason we brought you here.”
“Saving you? Saving you from what? I don’t even know who you are. I’m just an English Teacher.”
“An English Teacher, yes,” said Ian. “But just an English teacher? You’re more than that.”
Norman wondered what he could possibly mean? A workaday English teacher was about as boring as you could get for the undead.
“You’re a vampire, for one,” added Ian. “You can glamor large numbers of people at once. None of us can do that. One is hard enough.”
Norman waited for the inevitable third point.
“And you killed Skeete Daniels once before.”
Norman’s face could not conceal his surprise at hearing that name down here. How did they know about Skeete? How did they know that Norman, three years ago, had killed her in a side skirmish of the war that had killed so many?
“How…?” was all Norman could muster.
“This is something we’ve been trying to do for a long time with zero success at a cost of many decent vampires. We need you to help us kill Skeete.”
“I tried that once. It didn’t seem to take.”
“Perhaps. But with a small army at your back…” Ian waved his arm, indicating his rabble of thirty or so vampires. “We are the remnants of a more decent world. We’d like to go about putting that world back together.”
“But now, you’ve got twelve young humans here,” said Norman. Ian clearly had an agenda, but Norman’s allegiances lay with those kids huddled together on the other side of the chamber.
“Yes,” replied Ian. “A liability indeed.”
“They’re inconsequential,” blurted Rufus. “They were born to die. I’ve got nothing against them, but there’s a bigger picture to consider here.”
Norman tightened his hands to fists. Visions of staking that gigantic asshole filled his brain. He held his breath and let the fire die down a little. “There’s not much of a picture at all. I don’t see remnants of a great society. All I see is the last gasp of a stupid war that killed nearly all of us, and now seems to be reigniting in miniature to finish the job.”
Rufus grunted in opposition. Ian put his hand on his shoulder to silence him.
“Norman,” said Ian. “There used to be twice as many of us down here. We’re all VR and independents. Survivors. Skeete and her ‘friends’ seem bent on finishing us off. We’ve hidden and run. We’ve tried to stay undetected, only venturing out in small groups to resupply. At this rate, we’ll all be gone before the year’s end. Skeete picks off our supply runs. Our numbers dwindle and we’re so hungry. Every day, we become weaker and our chances decrease. If we don’t stand and fight, we die.”
“We’re already dead,” replied Norman. “Can’t you see that? War has claimed us already. This is a stupid hope.”
“Not yet,” said Ian.
Naseem approached. “The alternative, Norman, is much, much worse. Imagine the lives your students would live if Skeete finishes us off and she can unleash her plans on the world. It would be like Corps V on steroids. Without the counterbalance of an opposing force, they’d be free to go off the deep end. War is what they wanted all along. The VR was stupid enough to give it to them. Now you have no choice but to win.”
Norman looked over at Naseem. “And what, exactly, do you have to gain from this? You’re human.”
Naseem replied, “The same thing as them.” He pointed to the group of students munching on fractions of morsels from the old MRE rations.
19
A New Hope
Norman ran a rag over Felicia’s head. A lump on her forehead swelled red. He hoped she hadn’t received a concussion from her brief encounter with Rufus and the side of the sewer tunnel. She blinked several times, but remained silent. Norman wondered if her silence had resulted from the trauma of her violent crash or the trauma of their current situation. A person could only take so much. Felicia was a tough kid. She’d certainly been banged up throughout her short life. This was an entirely new level, though.
Declan approached. “Is she gonna be OK, Mr. Bernard?” He stood next to Norman, who sat on the floor with Felicia’s head on his lap. Declan’s left arm had been splinted and dangled off his shoulder. His fracture did not puncture the skin. If it had, infection was guaranteed down here. However, if he didn’t receive medical treatment very soon, his arm wouldn’t heal right. Who knows what other complications could arise from the injury. Clots? Internal bleeding?
“I think she’ll be fine,” Norman lied.
Declan stood there awkwardly. Norman looked up as if to ask, anything else?
Declan held out a small packet from the MRE. “I brought her some food.” He was so much like a small child.
“I’m not sure if she’ll eat. Here, why don’t you take over,” said Norman. He gently lifted Felicia’s head off his lap and transferred it to Declan.
Declan, moved in a surprisingly gentle manner considering, to date, his one specialty seemed to be blunt, brute force. He began dabbing Felicia’s forehead with the damp rag. “I got this, Mr. Bernard.”
Norman moved away and approached Matt. “Hanging in there?”
“Just taking it all in. It’s not what I expected.”
Norman chuckled. He found it almost hysterical that Matt had an expectation of what a vampire dungeon world would be like.
“Have you spoken to any of the other kids?” Norman asked.
“Yes,” replied Matt.
“Did they tell you about Mr. Taylor?”
Matt’s face grew somber. He hesitated.
“He saved us,” interrupted Ivol.
Norman turned his attention to the teen, who had been listening to the conversation from a few feet away.
“After you left, Mr. Taylor tried to keep control of the class. Some of the kids just split. Free pass, right? What’s a student teacher gonna do? Some of us stayed and waited. I knew something was wrong when the announcements never came. I also wanted to finish my donut. After a while, we started wondering what to do…if you were coming back. Then, Mr. Taylor ran out, too. We couldn’t believe it. No one ever turns their back on us at Night School. No one. But we had the class to ourselves. We just sat there. I’d have thought it would be crazy with no teacher in the room. But we just sat. Waited. Then…” Ivol trailed off. He looked down gathering words and momentum.
“Then what happened,” said Norman.
Ivol looked back up. “Then, Mr. Taylor came crashing back through the door. He said we had to leave. We didn’t know what was happening. We didn’t really move. He grabbed his backpack and tried to get us all to go.” Ivol looked down again. “We didn’t get it, Mr. Bernard. We didn’t understand.”
“What, Ivol?” said Norman.
“Finally, I asked him where we were going. He was about to answer when we heard a tap at the window. Everyone looked over.” Ivol shook his head. “It was Skeete, Mr. Bernard. She was standing outside the window. Smiling. She waved at us. She looked so…evil.” Ivol began to sweat as he continued recounting the story. “Mr. Taylor turned to me and gave me his backpack. He said there was a map in it and we should follow it. He said we needed to hide.”
“So you left with this group?” asked Norman.
“No. We just stood there. We still didn’t get it. Then, Skeete crashed through the window and landed on Mr. Taylor’s back. They rolled around on the floor. Fighting. Like they were going to kill each other.” Ivol stopped.
“So you ran?” added Norman.
“We tried,” said Ivol. “But Skeete smashed Mr. Taylor’s head into the ground and jumped at us. She landed on Jimmy. She grabbed his throat. She said she didn’t know why she wasted time killing people like us.” Ivol’s eyes glassed over as he put himself back in the moment. “Mr. Bernard, I think she was going to rip Jimmy’s head off. I ran at Skeete to try to get her off. Carla came, too. But Mr. Taylor beat us there. He was so fast. He was on Skeete and knocked her off Jimmy. He shouted, ‘run.’”
Norman let Ivol catch his breath, as if the story physically exhausted him.
“That’s when we finally got it. We ran. We hid in the basement of Empress’s building. We looked through the backpack and found the maps. We sort of got lost pretty quick. But they found us.” Ivol indicated the group of vampires that mulled around the chamber. “We thought we saw one of them drinking a bag of blood.”
Norman put his hand on Ivol’s shoulder. Ivol shoved himself onto Norman into a full hug. It was easy to forget that his students were just children. Norman held onto him. Ivol didn’t know the end of the story. He hadn’t seen the bloody sack that Skeete had displayed at Norman’s condo. He had no idea the sacrifice Mr. Taylor had made for them.
Norman did, though. He had put Richie in danger once before simply by being his tutor. He had now done it once again. He couldn’t fix it this time, though. Unlike humans, who could be turned and brought back, vampires stayed dead. Norman couldn’t help but imagine how the fight between Richie and Skeete ended. Skeete was a powerful vampire. Richie was just a student himself. Where he derived his courage, Norman could not imagine. He could only imagine the stake Skeete shoved through Richie’s heart. It felt as if Norman had shoved it himself. He might as well have. He tried to stop himself from picturing Skeete tearing Richie’s head off and shoving it in that sack.
He hated Skeete. He wasn’t sure how he could have loved her once. However, he was quite sure he was going to kill her. Soon.
Norman strode over to Ian, who sat on the floor reviewing his map. “Come on.”
Ian looked up.
“We have an attack to plan.”
20
Administration
Norman huddled with a small group of vampires around a map of the city sewers. A second map lay next to it which showed the shadow sewer system they now occupied. The myriad tunnels spread to the edges as if this was merely a small portion of the catacombs. In the corner of the map was the same symbol Naseem wore - a five pointed star with the eye in its center. Ian, Rufus, and Naseem pointed at spots on the two maps in quiet debate. Three others had joined the ad hoc committee. One was the other VR army regular. Norman did not recognize the other two.
Ian spoke. “Gentlemen, our new guest is Norman Bernard. He teaches English to…troubled youth.” There was that tone again. “We’ve been expecting him. Here he is in the flesh.”
The two soldiers remained stoic. The other two vampires looked on like there should be more.
“And he’s killed Skeete Daniels,” added Naseem.
The two unknown vampires nodded.
“Norman,” continued Ian, indicating the second soldier, “this is Seamus.”
Seamus tipped his head. He had a red beard and hair which he pulled back into a tight bun at the back of his head. Intricate tattoos stretched from beneath his collar up around his neck. Norman did not recognize the symbols.
“I believe you’ve…um…met Rufus,” said Ian, gesturing toward the taller of the two soldiers.
Rufus pursed his lips and huffed.
“Charmed,” said Norman.
Ian turned his attention to the two vampires Norman hadn’t met. They wore frayed collared shirts unbuttoned on top, and stained khaki pants. “These two gentlemen are former members of the VR council, the council’s only survivors, we believe. This is Lionelle Stockwell. He wrote the bill that would have legalized peaceful interaction with humans. And this is Stephen Harding. He was the council’s newest member.”
Stephen extended his hand to Norman. “Skip, please. Nice to meet you.”
“I’ve heard of you.” said Norman.
“Enough with the pleasantries,” interrupted Rufus. “Let’s get on with it.”
“I think we’re all in agreement here upon the need to switch away from our defensive posture to a more…aggressive strategy,” said Ian.
Rufus crossed his arms. “About time.”
Seamus nodded, his red bun vibrating on the back of his head.
“Beyond that,” said Ian, “the floor is open to suggestions. The rest of the group will follow along if we six all agree on a plan.”
“What about them?” Rufus pointed to the group of teens sitting in a circle on the far side of the room.
“To be determined,” replied Ian.
Norman didn’t like the sound of that but let it slide for now.
A silence ensued, each member of the group not wanting to be the first to speak.
“Rufus and Seamus, you have the military training. Perhaps we should start with your thoughts,” said Ian at last.
“If that’s OK with our savior,” said Rufus, his words dripping with sarcasm.
Norman did not dignify the slight with a reply.
“I see two options,” said Rufus. “Number one, we attack them where they live. We go at dusk. They’ll just be waking up. Seamus and I can take out their watch. Then we move in with stakes and fire.”
“All-out frontal assault,” said Skip. “Nice.”
Rufus shot Skip an annoyed glance. He held his tongue, though, perhaps out of some fealty to the old VR power structure. He stiffened his face. “Thank you, Councilor. Option two, we lure the whole group out of their lair and then pounce with everyone. I estimate there are thirty of them. Thirty-five at most.”
“Another all-out frontal assault. Nice,” said Norman. “At least we’ve got options.”
Rufus narrowed his eyes at Norman. “Perhaps our esteemed guest has better suggestions from his experience as a…what is it you do again? Oh yes…schoolteacher.”
“All-out war is what got us here. We need to be smarter. I staked Skeete once, yes. However, she seems to have recovered from death rather nicely. And from what you tell me, has done quite a number on your group here. I don’t want to make the same mistake twice. I want Skeete dead, and I want her to stay dead.”
“That plan sounds good,” exclaimed Skip.
“That’s not a plan,” barked Rufus.
“Right,” said Norman. “It’s just an objective.”
“Gentlemen,” said Ian, “if we could just relax the tension a bit, we’d get on with this much more smoothly. We’re on the same side here.”
“If you insist,” said Rufus. “What do you propose, Bernard?”
Norman thought for a moment. Skeete may have come back to life, but apparently, his little group couldn’t do the same trick. They had killed two of Skeete’s henchmen back at the school. So they could be beaten. At least some of them could. How many could survive being staked like Skeete had? How do you kill a vampire that can’t be staked? Norman couldn’t see a way to win without knowing the answers to these questions.
“We need more information,” said Norman.
Rufus let out a huff. “We know where they are and we know their numbers. What more do we need?”
“We need to know how to beat them,” answered Norman.
“Skeete is, shall we say… special, Rufus,” said Ian. “Norman, what do you have in mind.”
“We need to capture one of Skeete’s henchmen and question him.”
The small assembly all looked at Norman now, waiting for him to complete his thought.
“You say they’ve been picking you off when you send small groups to get supplies up on the surface?” Norman asked.
Ian nodded.
“We’ll send a small group up to a blood bank,” said Norman.
Ian caught on immediately. “To make a withdrawal.”
“When Skeete’s Brownshirts try to snag t
hem, we’ll be waiting. In force.” Norman looked over at Rufus and Seamus. “That’s where you come in.”
“Seems like a waste of time and a risk,” said Rufus.
Ian raised a finger at Rufus. “It’s a smaller risk than a full-on assault.”
Rufus narrowed an eye.
“Which remains a viable option afterwards, in any event,” said Ian
Rufus held his stare on Ian.
“Will the others go along?” said Skip.
“Party members will if you and Lionelle do,” said Ian. “But the independents… They are such a finicky bunch.”
“Appeasers,” blurted Rufus.
Ian’s face became stiff as he turned to Rufus. “They’ll come along if we all agree,”
Rufus dipped his head once, relenting.
“I…” said Skip.
“Then it’s settled.” Ian smiled. “Rufus, Seamus, and Norman, flesh out the details. Naseem, why don’t you help as well.” He turned to Norman. “I think you may find his advice valuable.”
As Ian left the impromptu committee, Norman rose and quickly strode up to him. “So, when do we tell the rest about the plan?
Ian stopped and turned back. “When it’s complete.”
“Shouldn’t they have a say? Aren’t they part of it? Or are you in charge?” asked Norman.
“Oh, we’re all equal down here,” said Ian. “It’s just…sometimes consensus can take too long and we need to deploy certain…expertise as quickly as possible.”
Norman had sensed this tone in Ian’s voice before. There weren’t any leaders or followers down here. Except there were. However, it was not like the classroom where everything was out in the open. In the classroom, there was a teacher and there were students. No wiggle room. Clear lines. Here everything may seem egalitarian, but under the surface...
Ian had saved Norman and his students from Rufus’ attack. However, something bothered Norman about Ian. Like the catacombs they now occupied, there were things Norman had clearly not been aware of. These things left him uncomfortable. Despite his upper class demeanor, Ian seemed too comfortable down here under the earth, like a worm in the dirt. But there was little choice except to trust him. Lately, he seemed to find himself without options frequently. Norman might have to begin making his own options.