Night School Book 1: Vampire Awakening

by Alex Dire

  She stood, waiting for more.

  “You’ll have to watch Declan die, all over again. And it will be an agonizing death. You’ve seen vampires die. You know.”

  Felicia's eyebrows wrinkled as if she began to get angry, but they quivered as well. “That’s it, then? It’s just over for us?”

  The word “us” stung Norman. She accused him of bringing her into this group. She accused him of failure. He stood resolute, not betraying the hole burning in his gut.

  “No, that’s not it. We’re going to have to face them again, one way or another. They have us greatly outnumbered. They’ll come for us soon. They won’t make it quick, either. They’ll torture us before they kill us. We’ll have to fight our way to oblivion.”

  Felicia’s face stopped quivering. “At least we’ll be fighting.” She stood resolute. “I’m going to take as many of those freaks down with me as I can. I won’t hide down here and wait. I’m going to get them where they live.” She grabbed her stake from the floor.

  Norman could tell this was no feint. She intended to go back up and die in a blaze of blood and rage. There must be a way to stop this, to stop all of this. But how? How could his tiny group of seven vampires survive this? He needed to think. He owed it to the survivors of his raid. He owed it even more to Felicia. He had failed to protect her. He had done just the opposite and put her on the front lines of a vampire war. Now, she insisted on a solo suicide charge. Norman’s brain raced in circles, looking for something to say to stop her march to oblivion.

  Felicia would only wait so long for a response. She tucked her short stake into her belt and walked brusquely toward the entrance. As she passed by Norman, he grabbed her by the shoulders and halted her progress.

  “Stop,” he commanded.

  “Let me go, Mr. Bernard. You can’t stop me.” She shook his hands off.

  She was right. Norman could feel her new strength as she wiggled out of his grasp. He couldn’t risk fighting her. With her newly magnified rage, she’d keep coming on until one of them was dead. He could try to glamor her. However, it was a brand new skill and he hadn’t mastered it. Besides, it would wear off and she’d continue her rampage. What words could possibly pierce her wild emotions? Then, he found the answer.

  “OK!” he exclaimed.

  Felicia stopped at the entrance. She looked over her shoulder.

  “I’ll save him. But you have to promise to do exactly as I say from now on.”

  Felecia crinkled her forehead.

  “And you have to get Declan to agree to the same.”

  Felicia nodded. The anger had all but drained from her face.

  “Go join the others. We’ll be there in a little while.” He wondered anew if this was really his best option. His guts churned at the idea of bringing another vampire into this world…into this war, a war they were about to lose.

  What difference would it really make, though? In a day, they’d all be dead. At least these two students would get one more day to live. Although it was a different kind of life, at least they’d get to spend it together. That was probably a better deal than the alternative for both of them.

  Felicia hadn’t moved.

  “This will be a bit painful, you’ll remember. You may not want to watch. It won’t take long. We’ll join you shortly.”

  Felicia still didn’t move. “No,” she said.

  Norman blinked several times, puzzled. “Felicia, remember your promise.”

  “No,” she repeated. “Let me.” She walked back to Norman and stood directly in front of him. She looked up into his eyes. “Teach me how.”

  At first Norman searched for reasons to tell her why she couldn’t. Breathing the death out of a corpse was a tricky art. It was draining, both emotionally and physically. It was intimate. The maker and the made would be bonded on a level deeper than they’d known in their human lives.

  Perhaps Felicia should be the one. Their bond, along with everything else about them, would be amplified. They’d spend their last day as permanent companions.

  It took time and skill to perform the ritual. Felicia didn’t know anything about it. Norman would teach her.

  “OK,” he said. “Take a deep breath. This may take a while.”

  Felicia closed her eyes and breathed.

  36

  Double Agent

  Norman made his way back to the large, round chamber where the remnants of the civilized vampire world mingled uncomfortably with his class. Ivol and Rae stood by the bashed-in entrance, peering out. Matt spoke with Saul. Norman hoped Matt could smooth things over with the less-than-helpful vampire.

  Cindy saw Norman and met him as he strode into the cavernous room. “Mr. Bernard, what do we do now? We thought you’d be coming back with all the others. The council guy says they’re all dead. Is he in charge now?”

  “No one’s in charge down here,” replied Norman. As soon as he said it, he knew it wasn’t true. Despite their collectivist trappings, Ian had been in charge and Naseem had exerted his influence through him. Now, they were both dead. Skip seemed next in line. As a surviving former VR party councilor, he still had a connection to the old power structure, tenuous as it was.

  Norman had hated all the jockeying for power that happened within and between the parties. Power was dangerous. The war had proven that power kills. However, he loathed this invisible power even more. In the old world, at least you knew who the bastards were. Down here, there were still plenty of bastards, but they were harder to see: hidden by a veil of equality. If you were lucky, they were benevolent. Ian seemed like he wanted the best for the whole group. Norman wondered what Skip would want. He didn’t dwell on it. Skip’s reign, however terrible it might be, would end almost the instant it began.

  “Someone’s coming!” Rae shouted. She craned her neck through the hole in the wall, peering into the sewer tunnel. Ivol snuck his head around as well, trying to make out what made the noise. If Rae struggled to see, then Ivol’s human eyes had no chance. Rae nudged him into the chamber.

  “Get back,” she cautioned.

  Norman strode to the opening to get a look for himself. Just as he reached Rae, she jumped backward, knocking into him.

  “They’re coming,” she said.

  “They?” Norman stumbled back wondering how this little band could survive another onslaught. How he could protect his students.

  “I could detect two or three,” replied Rae.

  “Survivors?” asked Skip from across the chamber.

  “Pursuers, more likely,” replied Saul. “The fun never stops, eh Norman?”

  “Everyone, back!” shouted Norman. “Arm yourselves.”

  He hustled his students to the hall opposite the breach. He whispered to them, “If things go bad, run.” He gestured down the hall. He knew that if they had to flee, they’d run into Felicia. He hoped she’d be done with the ritual.

  Norman picked up a long stake as he rejoined the group of vampire survivors in a defensive line near the center of the room. “If there are three, we should be able to take care of this quickly. Hector, Rae, and I will charge them as soon as they’re in the room. The rest flank left and right and block escape from behind.”

  Norman felt surprise as he heard the words of military strategy leave his mouth. Sounds of steps in mucky water interrupted his thoughts. Whoever came along the tunnel hadn’t bothered to conceal their approach. Even a human could have heard them, now.

  Norman gripped his stake, anticipating his charge into the enemy. He steeled himself for the event. Driving a piece of wood through a vampire’s heart was a terrible thing to do. Norman did not enjoy it. He imagined he’d enjoy the alternative even less. Either way, he made himself ready, sharpening his focus to his one task. Charge and stab, and be ready for anything that came through that opening. He watched the dark hole in the chamber wall. Fear mixed with resolve as the watery footfalls grew louder.

  Then, a surprise. He felt a hand on his shoulder. He flinched his head around, twis
ting his torso to reorient his point in the opposite direction.

  Before he could manage a thrust, he saw Keon.

  “Keon, I almost stabbed you.”

  Keon stood resolute. He removed his hand from Norman’s shoulder. “Remember your promise.”

  “Get back, Keon!” he replied. “It’s too dangerous.”

  Keon did not appear afraid. “I kill Skeete.”

  Norman remembered the promise he’d made to Keon to get him to abort his suicide mission. He doubted he could make good on it. Even if Keon had the ability to overcome Skeete, he would have to get in line behind just about every vampire here.

  An annoyed Saul chimed in. “Teacher! Not now.”

  Rae responded, “Shhhh!”

  “To hell with you,” replied Saul.

  “Back off,” said Hector, apparently all done with Saul’s lack of cooperation.

  “Um, guys!” interrupted Skip.

  They all turned to see a silhouette appear in the darkness outside the rough-hewn opening of the chamber. They attempted to reassemble into attack formation.

  “Go back, now!” said Norman to Keon.

  Keon shook his head and stood his ground, removing a stake from his belt.

  Norman wouldn’t have time to resolve this. He quickly turned, facing forward, and prepared to charge. However, he sensed his little brigade had abandoned its battle footing. He heard a stake fall to the ground next to him and a faint gasp escape someone’s throat. Norman looked down his line, then back at the opening.

  A large figure stepped through the broken, cobblestone entrance and into the light. Rufus stood before them, his uniform poked and slashed to shreds. Very little of his clothing had not been stained by blood. His face had dried blood caked all over it. Under one arm, he carried an unconscious Corps. V vampire. He threw the limp form to the ground.

  “Here’s your prisoner.” Rufus looked down at him. “He didn’t come without a fight.”

  Norman’s own surprise quickly turned into relief. Rufus would increase their odds in any physical confrontation.

  “Seamus?” said Skip.

  Rufus shook his head. He paused a solemn moment. “The other one came willingly.” Rufus glanced over his shoulder into the darkness outside in the sewers.

  Norman saw another person outside. He couldn’t make out the face, but clearly discerned a bright yellow shirt. His mind raced with recognition and impossibility. He knew who wore that shirt. He tried to resolve the cognitive dissonance. One second later, it resolved itself.

  Richie Taylor stepped into the chamber and stood before them.

  37

  Dead Again

  Norman stood at the entrance to the refrigeration room to check on Felicia’s progress. She knelt over Declan’s body, weeping.

  “It didn’t work. He won’t get up,” she said.

  This was probably predictable. Birthing a new vampire was a difficult task. It had taken Norman a long time to master it under careful mentorship. It took so much—knowledge, confidence, strength. At least Felicia had strength going for her. Norman had feared it wouldn’t be enough.

  “Felicia…”

  “Don’t!” she screamed. In an instant she slid a stake from her belt and placed its point directly above her heart. Her whole face quivered as her grief mixed with anger. “Why did you change me? Why couldn’t you just leave me in peace?”

  Norman’s mind flashed back to his re-acquaintance with Richie. He’d spawned yet another vampire into misery.

  “Felicia, wait.”

  “I’m sick of running and hiding. Always hiding…” She trailed off as her eyes drifted to the floor and her mind to the past. She looked back up to Norman. “Every one of my mom’s damned boyfriends…”

  Felicia’s memories were triggering. Her brain was placing this event into a pattern, and all those feelings came rushing up. Norman had seen it many times in his classroom of broken children. It either caused the student to shut down or explode.

  “I’m tired of losing. I’m done.” She steadied her hands and tightened her grip on the stake.

  Felicia was strong and fast, but Norman was faster. In a blur, he covered the distance between them and snatched away the stake. Felicia blinked in surprise. Norman braced himself for the beating he was about to receive.

  It never came. Instead, Felicia just collapsed onto the floor. Sobbing into her hands.

  Norman walked over to Declan’s body. “Sorry, son. It’s probably better this way.” He placed a hand on the boy’s forehead. As his skin touched Declan’s, he felt the unmistakable pulse of an undead heart. He raised an eyebrow in surprise. “It worked.”

  Felicia raised her head and looked at him. She wiped away tears with one sleeve. “What?”

  “You did it,” replied Norman, half-sad at her success.

  “How? He’s so cold?”

  “So are you,” replied Norman. “So am I.” Norman put a hand on Declan’s chest, feeling the rhythm. “He’s just about there.”

  Felicia had surprised him when she rescued them during their flight from the Corps. V. Apparently, she was full of surprises.

  Declan’s eyes blinked back to life.

  “See?” said Norman.

  Declan stared at the ceiling. Felicia moved her face directly in front of his. Declan’s eyes focused on hers. Recognition flashed across his face. Felicia brought her lips down and kissed Declan for what seemed like minutes. She then stood back up with a smile of relief.

  Declan blinked two more times. “You’re here. Am I dead?”

  “We’re both dead,” replied Felicia.

  Declan glanced over, noticing Norman. He sat up suddenly and brushed off his clothes as if he’d been caught in an awkward moment. “Oh, Mr. Bernard. I didn’t know… I wish you hadn’t seen that.”

  “Nice to see you too, Declan. Welcome back.” For a moment, Norman felt tremendous gladness to see his student rise again, but guilt crept in. He’d fought so hard to make sure none of his students ended up dead. Undead had never been part of the plan. None of this had.

  For the last three years it had seemed as though time had stopped. No events had occurred in the vampire world since the end of the war. Now it seemed like everything switched to fast-forward. He went from being the only vampire in the world to having a horde of vicious enemies and only a few friends, if you could call them that.

  He could trust his students, though. He would trust his life with them. They had done the same for him. He felt he must honor that above all else.

  “Felicia, why don’t you explain Declan’s new…um, situation. I’m going to get reacquainted with an old friend.”

  Richie’s yellow shirt was half-brown, stained with dried blood from the neck down. He hungrily drank from one of the last remaining bags of blood the group had saved up. Rufus, Skip, and Norman watched him drink, attempting to be patient.

  Norman had questions about how Richie could possibly be here. Norman was sure he'd died. He couldn't feel him anymore. Why couldn't he feel his own progeny? The others were probably more interested in the particulars of the Corps. V and their lair. Rufus’ suspicious eyes held an unflinching gaze on Richie.

  He gulped the final portion of blood, sucking the last drops from the opening of the bag. He took a deep breath and wiped the corner of his mouth with his sleeve. The little group hesitated for an awkward moment.

  “It’s good to have you back, Richie,” said Norman, finally.

  Richie’s gaze sank to the ground. “I can’t stay.”

  “Why not?” asked Norman.

  “You’re staying,” said Rufus.

  Richie looked at the big vampire soldier who’d spoken so gruffly. He locked eyes with Rufus and spoke, showing no fear. “If I stay, I’ll die.”

  “What? We just got you back,” said Norman.

  The politician chimed in. “Richie. Hi, I’m Stephen Harding, nice to meet you.” He extended his hand. Richie did not grasp it.

  “I remember you,” said
Richie. “I spent nearly three years in these tunnels. You probably thought I was just another castaway human roaming and sleeping under the ground, looking for half-rotten food and a night away from the cold and the darkness.” Richie looked over at Norman. “I guess I was, in a sense. Except I was avoiding the light.”

  “Oh,” said Skip. He withdrew his hand.

  Norman had never seen a politician at a loss for words before.

  Richie peered around the room. “I thought there were more of you.”

  “There were,” growled Rufus. Clearly, his patience waned.

  “Richie,” said Norman attempting to keep things calm. He knew Richie was not one of the Corps. V, but how confident were the others? “How are you alive? Skeete had your…”

  Rufus would not be deterred. “He’s alive because I didn’t kill him. However, I’m starting to question that decision.” He never took his eyes off his prisoner. “You’re here to answer questions about your Corps. V friends. You’ll tell us everything or I’ll wait until your friend wakes up and kill you right in front of him. That should make the choice for him rather simple.”

  “Easy, Rufus. Richie’s not like them,” said Norman.

  Rufus snapped his glance over to Norman. “I caught him with a group making their way down the manhole you escaped through.” Rufus paused, waiting for a reaction. “They were coming to finish you off.” He waited again. “I killed four of them and took these two.” His hands clenched to fists. “You’re welcome.”

  Rufus’ distrust of Norman seemed to have sparked back to life. Of course Rufus would be suspicious of someone who he’d just caught with enemy vampires. Norman needed to convince him that Richie was not really Corps. V.

  He wondered about this, though. Why was Richie with them? Why did he pursue Norman’s fleeing group into the sewers? His mind raced in circles and bounced between questions.

  “There are some things about Corps. V that you need to know,” said Richie. “I can tell you why I’m still alive, despite having lost my head and why I need to go back to them. I can also tell you why you’re going to lose the war.”