The Big Bad II

by John G. Hartness

  “Shut up, you goon!”

  “Kids—” Tom’s attempts at discipline had unraveled until they were as weak as the tea served in Max’s Diner.

  Why can’t she see what power she’d have if she applied herself? “His parents own a gas station. Your father is a well-regarded obstetrician.” There, reasoning at its best.

  “And you’re just a housewife.” Ashley leaned back in her seat and crossed her arms over her small chest. “And not a very good one, by the looks of all these crappy dinners we’ve had this week.”

  “Ash—”

  The girl turned her head, causing her braid to whip round her shoulder. “Come off it, Dad. You can’t be happy with how she’s been sneaking off at night and sleeping most of the day away. She’s still in bed by time we get home from school!” Ashley hissed.

  Amanda struggled to push her temper back down. It clawed at her, demanding release. She glanced to Tom for help, but his face was turned away. “I know what’s best for you. You need to watch who you’re around and how you present yourself. Those shorter skirts and pants are going to get you into trouble—”

  “You’re the one who’s a mess! How do we know you’re not running around on Dad?!” Ashley screeched, jumping to her feet. “We’re not your little puppets! We’re people and you can’t tell us what to do!”

  “Stop right there!”The hiss was out of her mouth before she could stop it. Amanda stared at a table of people frozen mid-gesture. Robert looked as if he was ready to drop the glass he’d been lifting to his mouth, poor Tom looked as if he couldn’t decide whom to defend, and Ashley was paused on her tiptoes, fist ground into the middle of the atrocity on her plate. The kitchen table looked as if it was cast in orange firelight, and when Amanda lifted her hand there were five deep grooves in the table.

  “Now look what you made me do. Well, then. Here’s how it’s going to be. You two will remain here and finish your dinner, then go to bed like dutiful children. Tom, you can enjoy the evening paper and then go to bed. If you were thinking about sneaking off somewhere, you can promptly forget about it. This dinner conversation didn’t happen, and none of you will entertain another thought about causing trouble for this family. I know what’s best for all of you so you will listen to me!”

  They mumbled and mutely went about their business while Amanda looked on, momentarily placated. “You are mine. Never forget that. My children. My husband. You’re the dream that was promised to me when I was a little girl. How dare you think that I don’t know what’s best for you?”

  The phone rang, though the humans went about their business. Any attempt at dinner conversation was reduced to incoherent mumbles. They didn’t even know or care that she got up to answer.

  “There are more lessons to be learned, and I sense that you’re in need of some instruction.” The Patriarch.

  Shame flooded her at being so easily read, even from a distance, though it was overshadowed by the thrill of hearing the dark, cultured voice. “I’ll be waiting. I have some targets.”

  “Excellent.” His tone suggested that he knew very well what her real motivations were, and was doubly pleased. “The car will be along shortly.”

  She hung up and hurried to change. In the kitchen, her family robotically continued dinner. She’d pulled the same trick for the last three nights and they had yet to truly catch on.

  ***

  “Th-thanks for l-letting me stay home again today.” Ashley sniffed and wrapped her arms tighter about her mother. “I kn-know I’m being silly. We only went on a few d-dates, but I l-loved him!”

  Amanda had to dial down the disgust those words brought, but welcomed the opportunity to cuddle her child close—her hypocritical, needy child. “You’ve suffered a huge shock, darling. Of course you can stay home again today.”

  Her little girl wiped her red eyes and then her nose on the back of her hand. “I just can’t believe he’s gone. Crossroads never had a problem with robberies before. If only he hadn’t been working at his dad’s station the other night!”

  “I know, sweetheart. You take all the time you need. Just remember that we have the women’s guild social tonight. It will do you some good to be out and about with people you know,” she reminded her, then quickly took leave of Ashley’s bedroom, a sly little smile on her face. She had assumed that murdering Andrew would drive her youngest back into her arms, and it had.

  It’s her fault. She has no idea how to fend for herself. Amanda sighed and went to poke her head into the den.

  Tom was pacing when she entered. “Funeral is early next week. I already called the florist.”

  “That’s sweet of you,” she cooed, and stepped into his arms. “I can’t believe it. First poor Ashley’s friend, then your secretary.” With her face buried against his chest, Tom couldn’t see her lips curl upward. Thankfully the secretary had tasted much better than the young man. She wasn’t about to leave anything to chance.

  “I know. Poor Sharon, knifed by some hooligan while walking her dog. Her husband and kids are just crushed. I just don’t understand it.” He paused and stroked her hair. He hadn’t done that in months and she struggled to find some comfort in the gesture and not revulsion. “You’re right, you know. There really is an element developing these days. We’ve got to do our part to take back our little town.”

  “I’m glad you think so,” she breathed, finally able to look up at him. “That’s what we’re talking about tonight at the meeting.”

  “Honey, I really don’t feel like—”

  She gripped his shirt and shook him lightly, tried to be every inch the pleading female. “Now isn’t the time to be caught sitting down, Tom! We need to fight for what’s ours. We need to fight for our town, for the right side.”

  He sighed and held her at arms’ length. From that distance, she could see the fatigue on his face. “Mandy, I know you mean well, and you’re right. When I think of all the new little souls I bring into the world, and what kind of world I’m bringing them into... But I’m exhausted, hon.”

  He really was discouraged, beaten down by the news and his own schedule. She frowned. Could he have just been tired all along?

  “What happened to us, Mandy? Why do we seem to keep butting heads?” he whispered. She opened her mouth, tried to find an answer, tried to feel something beyond the emptiness and building hunger.

  “Just come with us tonight. We’re working on a project that will help give us our power back. It will help Crossroads, help the country even.” She put just the slightest push of influence into her voice and was pleased when he nodded his assent. “Don’t worry. Everything will be just fine after tonight,” she soothed and forced herself to hold him, weakling that he was.

  ***

  There were only about twenty ladies gathered, ten of whom had been brought into The Family’s inner circle. She knew her sisters by instinct and little glances. The humans busied themselves setting out refreshments for the unknowing guests.

  “I thought she said they’d have food,” Robert muttered to his sister. Both cast queasy looks at the buffet table. Apparently they weren’t hungry enough to try the molded potato salad, the tomato marinara gelatin, the tongue gelatin loaf, chicken mousse, seafood mold, or the boiled egg custard pie with corned beef crust. The ladies who had taken the role of Renfields had been sympathetic and had not laid out a single heated dish that might give off an aroma offensive to their masters.

  Soon everyone gathered in the assembled folding chairs. Tom sat between the children, arm around their sniffling daughter. Lucy Snyder, head of the women’s guild, cast her a sympathetic glance and squeezed the shoulders of her twelve-year-old daughter, Abigail, who looked perfectly elegant and polite down to her fingernails, even for a human. Abby looked up at her mother with total devotion and Amanda felt a sharp stab of jealousy. How beautiful it must be to have a child willing to be a slave for you.

 
Lucy took the podium in the fellowship hall and began to talk about the recent dangerous goings-on in the news, both local and nationwide. Amanda was relieved to see that she wasn’t the only one who had brought family unfamiliar to the cause. Hopefully that would help make the transition easier. Robert and Ashley looked more than a little bored and skeptical, but they would understand quickly. They were many things, but they weren’t stupid.

  “With everything from communism to delinquency looming over us as a threat these days, it’s easy to feel helpless,” Lucy declared. “It seems that any efforts of interest groups get overpowered by fear-mongering. We do not have to let it wash over our town and claim Crossroads. We do not have to allow everything that scares us to wipe us out. True, it may be violence and robberies now, but how long until Russia tries their hand at delivering nuclear weapons to our front door? Joseph McCarthy cannot protect us forever. We need to be ready to withstand these threats so that we can well and truly outlast and overcome them.”

  The gathered ladies bobbed their coiffed heads up and down and applauded politely with gloved hands. Some of the assembled family members, including her own, exchanged bewildered looks. Thankfully, Lucy introduced the guest speaker, Mr. Adam Edward Smith.

  The muted applause gained in intensity as The Patriarch of The Family materialized from the side lounge in all his sophisticated glory. The name given wasn’t his real one, of course—no one knew his real name, not in the Crossroads branch or any of the other extended groups he’d started across the country. His modern, tailored suit and countenance of mid-thirties did little to hide that The Patriarch was much, much older. He spoke with the cultured eloquence that came only through experience, and his body language was effective, but not affected. Every woman in the small crowd sat a little straighter and leaned forward to catch his every word. Even those already turned were not immune.

  The burning anger that couldn’t be extinguished rose a few notches. No, she was special. She was the one who had been asked to accompany the Patriarch on his missions throughout Crossroads. She was the one who knew that things must be put in motion. Followers needed a leader, cattle needed a wrangler. She was the one getting his lessons. There’s no way that any of these sows could be getting the same treatment from him.

  “No matter how hard you try, your efforts will come up short. They will be pitiful. You will finally solve one issue and a thousand more will creep up. Not only that, but the problems will change, evolve, and keep coming as more advances are made, as mankind keeps inventing ways to hinder itself. Yet there are things that can be done, things that the good women of your town have already put in motion.” Several of the husbands in attendance raised their eyebrows and looked at their wives, who positively glowed at the muted compliment. Amanda gritted her teeth and stared at her hands. The seams of her gloves popped at the fingertips. The points of her nails peeked through.

  The Patriarch smiled. “You are doomed because you are human. If the Cold War escalates, you will still be wiped out because of your mortality. There is a way around that, though, a way to survive whatever the future throws at you, a way to deal with any element that crosses your path.” The lounge doors opened. Susan Anderson and Betty Colten entered, dragging a stumbling, rough-looking man between them. The audience gasped and tittered, while those who knew what was coming smiled. “Wait, that’s John Trenton! He’s the monster who killed the Johnson kids two years ago!”

  “This is true,” The Patriarch agreed. “He managed to break out of prison three weeks ago, if you’ll recall. Thankfully, our paths crossed.” He didn’t add that his followers had instigated the jailbreak for the purpose of the demonstration. Humans only needed to know so much. “With the current justice system, he may pay for his crimes with his life, depending on how long he rots in a cell...if he manages to stay there, that is.”

  The criminal dropped to his knees. “Please! I know I did wrong, but you can’t let those monsters get me!” he screamed, eyes rolling, as he appealed to the crowd. His thrashing showed off the myriad bruises and strange marks up and down his arms and all over his neck. “You don’t know what I’ve been through! You can’t, even I don’t deserve—” He was cut off as The Patriarch slapped him across the face with one large, elegant hand. The gasps in the audience were more of surprise than disagreement.

  “What should be done with a child-killer? Would you really give him back to the system that let him get away?”

  “Hell no!” An elderly woman in the back. Others murmured in agreement, even if they cast a sideways glance at the old dear’s word choice.

  “Exactly. This is a case where we must provide our own solutions to the problems that plague us." The Patriarch turned and ripped John Trenton’s heart clean out of his body. The screams overpowered the delicious wet thud of the convict’s organ as it fell to the floor. Amanda’s mouth watered and her vision turned red.

  “Mommy?” Ashley squeaked, gaping at her hands. Her claws had completely busted out the fronts of her gloves. Pressing her hands to her face revealed that she’d completely transformed.

  “Honey?” Tom blurted as he leaped to his feet, his chair overturned behind him. Incredulous, he reached a trembling hand out to her, but drew back when she glared at him. Only Robert sat there, torn between shock and judgment.

  “So it wasn’t a guy, then. At least not for sex,” her son accused.

  “Don’t be crass,” she hissed.

  “You’ve had us under your thumb ever since you started going to these meetings,” he accused. “All those weird dinners, those headaches when I woke up in the morning and couldn’t remember anything. That was you.”

  “She did it because she loves you. All your mothers and aunts and sisters went down this path because they love you,” The Patriarch called. Blood covered his hands and his face had the twisted, gnarled look of something that might have resided in a medieval landscape of hell. “It is natural to fear the unknown, but this will give you power. Vampirism is nothing to fear. It will give you the means to help yourselves and your families. You will never die, never age, and never have to endure anything from anyone else. You can protect your loved ones for all time,” he added, and the glitter in his demonic eyes showed that he knew that would clinch the deal for many. “You can either begin by helping those who have already made the transition. We need savvy helpers who are devoted to the cause, and in time we repay those who help us. If you are bolder, you can choose to start down the inevitable path tonight. I am only here for a few months to spread the cause and teach new members of The Family. In time, someone will lead this little group in my stead,” he added, and Amanda glanced down demurely as he looked her way. Robert caught the interaction and frowned.

  “C-can’t we go home and think it over?” a shaking voice called from the crowd.

  “You were brought here because your family members trust you and want you to join a greater Family, a better Family, a Family that extends throughout the country and the world. It is impossible to let anyone that truly opposes us leave. I’m sure you understand,” he added with a charming, fanged, nightmarish grin.

  Exactly. Humans are for feeding or servants, not for anything else. Those who truly love us will convert, Amanda thought. It isn’t about what they want, but what’s best for them.

  “No. No way. There’s no way I’m turning into something from a drive-in movie!” a voice screamed. It was weak and trembling, a strange combination for a man’s voice. Tom’s voice.

  “What are you talking about? I did this for you, for all of us!” She struggled to relax so her face would turn back to something that might convince him, but her temper and nerves were too ruffled.

  Tom regarded her with pure disgust and backed away, trapped by the row of chairs and bodies behind them. “Did you? You sure didn’t consult me before you decided to...to become that. I’m just supposed to go along with it? I’m supposed to let you turn our children into monste
rs?”

  “Tom, it’s for the best,” Amanda insisted. This way we’ll all be together. You won’t leave me behind. You’ll need me. Even if you just sign up as Renfields, you’ll have to depend on me. Smiling, she leaned toward her husband. “It’s for the best,” she said out loud, with a push of influence in her voice.

  For a moment she thought she had him.

  “She’s right,” The Patriarch agreed. Tom’s eyes flicked away, breaking their stare as he regarded the regal, powerful creature at the front of the room. His expression morphed into one of quiet understanding as he looked back at her.

  He pulled away and grabbed Ashley’s arm. “No, no she isn’t. Nothing’s worth that.” He stood tall among the low growls that rippled around him. Those who hadn’t shown their true colors now let their facades slip away. The Renfields moved to block doors, the only sound the rustle of their dresses. “Mommy, Daddy, what are you doing?” Ashley whispered in a small, terrified voice as she looked from human to vampire.

  “I don’t know what your real reason is. I’ll probably never know, but this isn’t the answer,” Tom growled, ignoring the warped imitations of women’s faces that slowly pressed in towards the little family.

  “How quaint. Finally standing up for yourself, but I think you’ll find you’re outnumbered. Are you sure I can’t convince you to see things my way?” she cooed, and ran her hand down his chest, as if they were alone. She struggled to hide her revulsion. It was obvious he was doing the same.

  “Never,” he replied and pushed her away, still clinging to Ashley with his free arm.

  She looked over to The Patriarch, touched her tongue to her fangs. I shouldn’t be made to choose between the world’s current reality and the reality I want, she thought. He shouldn’t make me choose.