by Roger Keller
Heather ran her fingers over the door as she passed and killed the alarm. We were down the steps and out in an alley in a second.
We passed a dumpster and I threw the MP-5 in. Heather stopped cold in front of me.
“What the fuck did you just do?” Her eyes flashed orange.
“It’s evidence,” I said.
“So are the fingerprints, you left all over it.” She face-palmed. “Most of my guns are evidence, or at least stolen.” She pointed at the dumpster. “ Go get it.”
Heather grabbed my ankles and boosted me over the rim of the dumpster.
“Fuck,” I said. “It’s at the bottom.”
“So what, just grab it,” she said.
I leaned in and pushed a soggy trash bag out of the way. My hand came back covered in grease.
“Dammit,” I said.
“Relax, it’s not the worst thing you’ve had to do, so far anyway,” she said.
“So far, huh.” I felt Heather’s grip loosen, then she let me go. I struggled to keep balance. “Come on, I almost had it.”
“Maybe the cops can help you,” Heather said.
“That’s not funny,” I said.
“Freeze bitch,” a pissed off, frightened, voice said.
“We got ‘em,” an older, wiser voice said. “Shit, she’s armed and everything.”
I fell off the dumpster and landed ass first on the pavement. Two uniformed officers moved toward us, guns drawn.
“You too, asshole.” A blinding light hit my eyes. “Don’t move.”
I raised my hands, but the cops were distracted by Heather.
“What’s up with her eyes?” the Rookie said.
“Shut up,” the Veteran said. “It’s just some new kind of contacts. Place your weapons on the ground honey, right now.”
Heather’s hand shot out and seized the Veteran’s throat. He smiled stupidly.
“Sweet dreams.” His body crumpled against Heather. She pushed him back and he hit the pavement with a thud.
“Sergeant?” the Rookie said, panic creeping into his voice. “What did you do to him?”
Heather reached up and brushed his hat off. He fumbled trying to catch it, dropping his Glock. He looked up and saw Heather’s claws extend from her fingertips. His eyes went dull.
“I lost something,” Heather said in a sultry voice. The air rippled around her and I wondered what the rookie saw.
“I could f-find it,” he said, with a dopey look on his face. “I’m taking classes. I’m gonna be a detective someday.”
“I already know where it is, silly.” She walked over too the dumpster, clawed hand over his head, guiding the rookie on her invisible puppet strings.
“You see, somebody, lost my MP-5 in this dumpster.” Heather lowered her arm.
“I’ll get it.” His eyes glittered. He smiled at us before vaulting into the dumpster.
“He’s so weak,” Heather said. “They’ll never let him be a detective, unless he’s somebody’s kid.”
The Rookie popped up with the MP-5 in his hand. Trash stuck to every part of his uniform.
“I found it.” He handed the gun to Heather.
“Thank you.” She brushed her claws across his jawline. “Now go lay down by your friend.”
He skipped across the alley, pieces of garbage falling off his ruined uniform. Heather closed her hand into a fist. The Rookie fell in a heap on his fellow officer.
“They saw us,” I said.
“Those two won’t remember much,” she said. “Not enough to find us, anyway.”
“What do you think they’ll tell the others?” I said.
“They’ll do what cops do best, lie,” she said. “They’ll probably make themselves out to be heroes. If they’re slick, they might even get like, medals, or something.”
As we headed back to my car, I realized that Heather was pacing herself. She could have easily disappeared into the night, leaving no trace.
“I guess it’s a good thing you parked far away,” she said. “They have cameras everywhere now.”
We tried to walk casually away from our murder site.
“How’d they trap you like that?” I said.
“I have no clue.” She stuffed her hands in her pockets and pretended she was cold. “They didn’t even know. I just walked over the circle and it got me like a land-mine. Those fuckers probably thought the circle was some kind of decoration.”
*****
Heather drove on the way back. I hit the seek button on the radio a few times and settled on a classic rock station.
“They were so sad and burned out back then,” Heather said.
“What? Who are you talking about?” I said.
“The people who sang this stuff and the people they sang it for,” she said. “People like my parents, who peaked during the Sixties, then crashed in the Seventies. It was all down hill from there and they never let you forget it.”
“They crashed because they were all on dope,” I said. “Shit, they had drugs back then that you can’t even get anymore.”
“Speaking of drugs,” Heather said. “Do you think that kid scored you any more weed?”
“Why?” I already knew the answer. We both needed something to take the edge off.
“I wonder if the cops will search those tunnels,” she said.
“I hope so,” I said. “Let them deal with it.”
“That room with the green light will blow their minds.” Heather looked thoughtfully ahead. “I bet they’ll just cover it up. Even if they go down there, we’ll never hear about it.”
“Nothing we can do about it now,” I said. “Let’s go get high. Worry about that shit later.”
“Fuck yeah.” Heather laughed and hit the gas.
Chapter 11
“Do you think little Ronny will mind if I take some more of his blood?” Heather had that mischievous look in her eyes again as we made our way up the sidewalk to my building.
“Does he have a choice?” I said.
I almost felt bad for him. But Heather sure as hell wasn’t getting any of my blood. I didn’t even want to go down that road.
“Of course not.” Heather pulled the security door open, snapping the electronic lock.
We caught Ron just as he was trying to leave. He saw us and froze like a deer in the headlights of an eighteen-wheeler. He stammered, then managed to lock his door behind him, instinctively protecting his family. Heather cleared the space between them in seconds. He looked side to side, then at the vampire fingers dug into his shoulders.
“I got some more shit, man.” He looked to me, hoping I’d protect him.
“Where is it?” I said.
The broken security door clicked uselessly behind us and someone entered the hall. I looked back and saw a teenage girl wearing a jacket from Hot Topic. She looked like she was about a year out of high school.
“Oh shit. It’s true.” She pushed past me and and ran over to Heather.
Heather smiled, showing off her canine teeth. I grabbed the girl’s anime inspired jacket and tried to hold her back.
“You have a big fucking mouth, Ronny.” She let him go and turned to the girl. “Is this your girlfriend?”
“Yeah.” Ron waved at us. “Misty get outta here.”
“It’s cool,” Misty said. “I don’t think she’ll hurt us.”
“I don’t know why Ron’s so scared of me.” Heather giggled and tilted her head down.
“I’ve read lots of books about vampires.” Misty stopped short of touching Heather. “Don’t be mad at Ron. I won’t tell anybody. There’s so much I want to ask you.”
“Really, a human who wants to ask me boring questions, that’s not annoying,” Heather said. “So, what do I get out of like, sparing your life?”
“You can have my blood,” Misty said, just a tick too fast.
“OK,” Heather said with a smirk. “Come on up.”
Heather took the steps up to my apartment two at a time, with Misty following close
behind. She oohed when Heather waved her hand over the door handle and unlocked my door.
“Go get my shit,” I said to Ron. “She just wants to get high, like before.”
“I’ll kill that bitch if she hurts Misty,” Ron said.
“No you won’t,” I said. “You wouldn’t have a chance.”
Ron ran off to wherever he hid his stash and I headed upstairs.
*****
Back in my apartment, Misty sat on the edge of the recliner and examined Heather’s claws. I set both Berettas on the kitchen counter. Misty’s eyes widened. Heather took out her handguns, two vintage, 1980’s Smith and Wessons and tossed them to me. I took the magazines out each gun and hid them in an unused silverware door.
“How long have you been a vampire?” Misty said.
“It feels like I changed yesterday,” Heather said. “First I stopped noticing days go by. After a while I started noticing seasons, like now there’s snow on the ground, so another year’s gone by. Then I stopped caring all together.”
Heather spoke with a weird theatrical voice that I hadn’t heard her use before. I realized Heather was fucking with Misty. She ran her fingers through the girl’s purple, anime hair. Misty leaned her head back exposing her neck.
“You could do it right now if you want.” Misty’s eyes were glassed over, but not in the same way as the rookie cop’s in the alley.
“I’m not going to bite you, Missy.” Heather was nose to nose with her wiling victim. “I might loose it and kill you.”
“My name’s Misty and I’m not afraid.” She looked at the floor, then back up. “I trust you.”
Heather laughed bitterly. I fixed a drink with some of the Amaretto my ex-roommate left in the kitchen.
“You have to drink some of my blood to be like me, if that’s what you want,” Heather said. “Which is something that probably ain’t gonna happen.”
“Why not?” Misty said
“You’ll change, like your personality,” Heather said. “It goes to people’s heads. If you even survive the process that is.”
I sat down next to Heather. The TV flickered, then old school static filled the digital screen.
“There was this girl I knew, back when,” Heather said, from far away. “I should have cut her off when I changed, but I guess I was being sentimental.”
The TV focused on a scene in an 1980’s heavy metal decorated apartment. Posters and band flyers hung on the walls. 1980’s Heather showed off her new vampire powers to a wide-eyed big-haired Eighties girl.
“Kelly wanted to be like me, but she was such a daddy’s girl. I figured she was too weak to survive. I was wrong about that.” Heather snapped her fingers. “Missy, hey Missy. You see it too, don’t you?”
On the TV Kelly the valley girl followed Heather around Lee’s mansion. Other vampires stared at her with frustrated anger and lust. Heather turned back to them and showed her teeth. They shrank back, already afraid of her.
The scene changed again. Kelly and Heather argued as they walked down a neon lit, rainy street. Kelly held an umbrella while Heather ignored the rain. She looked sad and confused as she disappeared into the night leaving Kelly to walk home alone.
Kelly wasn’t alone. Karla had followed her home. Kelly freaked out, ready to trash her own apartment. A knock on the door stopped her. She opened it. Karla stood there dressed in the height of ridiculous Eighties fashion. She held out her hand to the terrified girl.
“That bitch, Karla, turned her into a vampire,” Heather said. “Probably just to piss me off.”
On the screen Karla introduced Kelly the vampire to the others. Lee seemed uninterested and played with his Walkman. Heather seethed. She drew a Browning 9mm out of her jacket. Karla laughed. Lee moved too fast to see and plucked the Browning from Heather’s hand.
“I’m gonna kill her.” Heather pushed Lee back.
“Nein.” Lee’s words echoed through the room. He grabbed Heather by the neck. “You will not spill the blood of any under my protection.”
Lee released Heather’s throat, but kept his hand on her shoulder.
“OK, fine.” Heather shifted gears to playful and kittenish. She fixed Lee’s collar.
Lee hugged her and she rolled her eyes.
“Kelly really enjoyed being a vampire, but she was totally out of control,” present day Heather said.
The scene changed. Kelly’s apartment looked like a horror movie set. Heather stepped over bloodless corpses. Kelly had hacked her hair short. The young vampire wore torn clothes and studded black leather, like a heroin using punk rocker. She offered Heather a glass of blood.
“You have to chill out,” Heather said. “You’re drawing attention to us. Fuck, look at this place. The others are talking about you.”
“So what,” Kelly said. “I don’t give a fuck what they say.”
“They’re talking about dealing with you,” Heather said. “Karla will have to do it, since that cunt made you like this.”
“I’m not scared of her. She thinks she controls me.” Kelly laughed maniacally. “You know what? I’m going to kill her.”
“What about Lee’s rules?” Heather said.
“Don’t care,” Kelly said. “I figured it out. If I drink all her blood, then I’ll get her powers.”
“Does she kill Karla?” Misty said in a trance.
“I wish,” present day Heather said. “Just what are you seeing, anyway?”
We saw Kelly and Karla face off in a moonlit, vacant lot. Kelly had a butcher knife in her belt and a machete in her hand. Karla drew a Spanish style rapier from a wooden display box.
“I have killed three vampire hunters and countless weak pretenders, you little ingrate,” Karla said.
They moved in a blur. Blood splattered the ground. Karla sacrificed her fingers on the machete blade to get close enough to drive the rapier into Kelly’s chest. The silver-inlaid blade missed her heart. Smoke poured out of the wound. Kelly’s claws laid Karla’s face open. She hooked them into Karla’s empty eye socket.
“Die bitch,” Kelly said.
She drove the butcher knife into Karla’s stomach. They went down clawing and biting each other. A dark pool of blood grew under them.
Karla stood up victorious, holding a bloody, fleshless skull by a piece of spinal column.
“Karla kept Kelly’s skull,” present day Heather said. “The bitch made a trophy out of it.”
Misty and I snapped back into reality.
“Whoa, what the fuck was that?” Misty said.
“Why can’t you make me see what you saw?” Heather said.
“I’m not sure you’d want to.” I rubbed my eyes.
“Did you get Karla back, for what she did?” Misty said.
“Sort of. Lee made me promise not to kill her. I mean, I kinda felt sorry for her. Her apprentice betrayed her and fucked her up. It took a real long time for her face to heal.” Heather shifted on the couch to face Misty. “So, like she wore a Phantom of the Opera mask to cover it up.”
I turned the TV on, hoping to block out Heather’s next story.
“About a year later, I snuck into her room at Lee’s place.” Heather giggled at the memory. “I stole Kelly’s skull back and burned it. Then, I had a little funeral for my last once-human friend. I even brought a preacher and made him say a few words when I scattered the ash. The preacher was famous, like one of those televangelist assholes.”
“I bet Karla was pissed,” Misty said.
“Yeah, what was she gonna do?” Heather said. “I was still with Lee back then.”
“Is Lee your master?” Misty said.
“I don’t have a fuckin’ master,” Heather said. “But, Lee is kind of responsible for me becoming a vampire.”
“What happened to the preacher?” I said.
“What?” they said, almost in unison. Misty glared at me for cutting in.
“The preacher who preformed the funeral for your friend’s skull,” I said.
“Oh yeah, I
didn’t even kill him,” Heather said. “He was so freaked out that he quit his TV preaching scam. He blubbered on, saying if I was real then Satan and God must be real. He was sure he’d go to hell for ripping old people off.”
My grandparents were among the Reverend Joshua Elohim’s many victims. I remember watching his last show while I waited for my dad to pick me up. We sat in silence as he confessed to using his donation money to gamble and chase harlots. My father called bullshit on the whole thing. He figured the reverend got himself in some legal trouble and was plotting an insanity defense. I was the only one who thought he was telling the truth.
“Anyway,” Misty said, “you could bite me and just take a little of my blood. It’s supposed to feel really good.”
“No, It doesn’t,” Heather said. “Well, I mean if you’re into that sort of thing. You know, if you like pain. Some vampires I know enjoy it. When they were human they liked getting tied up and whipped.”
“I thought-” Misty said.
“I’ll take some of your blood when Ronny gets here with the weed,” Heather said. “I’ll take it my way.”
“OK.” Misty didn’t look worried. “I would never betray you or go crazy. If that’s what you’re worried about.”
Heather laughed.
“I, I don’t really understand your world, but I want to be a part of it,” Misty said.
I groaned and swallowed down some amaretto and warm cola.
“That’s weird,” Heather said. “When I was young, all I ever wanted was to be normal. Whatever that means. Mike says his normal life was lame. But I think he wasn’t trying hard enough, or something. If you want, maybe I’ll make you one of us, or maybe not. It’s not something you jump into.”
“What is he, like a thrall, or familiar, or something?” Misty whispered and pointed at me.
I rolled my eyes and checked the time on Heather’s clunky, men’s, Seiko diver’s watch.
“Mike is a vampire hunter,” Heather said. “I think he could hunt other things too, if he felt like it.”
“Really.” Misty was appalled. “Aren’t you afraid of him? How do you control him?”
“Why would I be afraid?” she said. “It’s not like I’m afraid of the things that really want to kill me. He works for Lee, sort of. But I don’t think anybody really controls him.”