Gidion's Blood

by Bill Blume

  He’d waited all day to get his hands on GQ Drac and Bonnie’s laptops. First up was GQ’s. Judging from the scratches to the black cover, that vamp put all his money into his wardrobe. The computer played that annoying default Windows greeting music as it displayed a blue login screen. This computer was still working with an older version of Windows.

  The login screen showed the rather plain user name of “George.”

  “Not exactly the creative type.” With that in mind, Gidion decided to guess the password. He tried the obvious choice first and typed “password.” After that, he tried typing it with the “p” capitalized, and then the entire word in all caps. Apparently, George was a little more creative than that, after all. From there, Gidion went for variations on George Hammond’s name. He only played that game for a few minutes before he got fed up with it. Fortunately, he’d prepared for this.

  Gidion had spent the past two days searching online for tricks to get past the login on Windows. Not surprisingly, Google led him to the solution once he typed in a search for “forgot password to Windows Vista.”

  He’d considered using a few methods on YouTube, but he decided he wasn’t sure how much he trusted some of the methods there. The answer turned out to be on a PC support website, and the hardest part of the process was finding a Windows Vista installation disc in Dad’s office. Even though Dad wasn’t using Vista anymore, he kept almost everything related to computers. He really did even have an old hard drive in the basement that he’d refused to trash on the idea he’d eventually get back into it to unload some files. Dad harbored a few hoarder tendencies.

  From there, he just loaded the installation disc, went for the System Recovery Options, opened the Command Prompt and typed in the appropriate commands.

  Voilà!

  The login screen faded to black and then to one of those generic scenic landscapes in the desert that probably came with the computer, not that he could see much of it through the horde of icons.

  “Congratulations, Gidion Keep,” he said to himself. “You’ve probably just violated a few federal statutes, but you are now officially the master hacker!”

  Page rolled her eyes without moving her head to look at him. A low groan followed. She wouldn’t be impressed by anything until he’d given her a bite of pizza, which wasn’t happening.

  His master hacking skills didn’t get much deeper into GQ Drac’s computer. Most of the icons on the desktop only opened up movies saved as digital files. Going by that, GQ was a big fan of westerns and porn—girl-on-girl porn, to be exact. Not that Gidion watched any of them. Well, not for very long. Maybe only a half hour’s worth.

  To Gidion’s surprise, GQ Drac kept his checking account on his computer, and the balance was a lot more impressive than the laptop. He supposed the expenses of a traveling vampire were limited. They didn’t need food in the traditional sense. Without a house to worry about, it was all about cars, hotels, and the occasional laundromat.

  Other than that, it wasn’t illuminating. He might have used it to backtrack the places GQ Drac had visited before Richmond, but multiple entries for Sheetz and FasMart didn’t reveal much.

  Gidion had four different web browsers loaded on his laptop, so he’d worried about how many of them he’d need to search through on GQ’s laptop. Luckily, ol’ uncreative George used only one web browser on his computer. Gidion double-clicked on the blue “e” which went straight to AOL.com.

  “Let’s see who you’ve been trading emails with, bub.” Gidion clicked on the icon which brought up the login screen. He’d expected GQ to maintain his uncreative streak and have the email address and password to auto-fill, but no such luck. He clicked on the field to see if a list of email addresses might show up in a drop list, but that didn’t work either. Gidion even ran through the alphabet, hoping that typing the first letter might bring up the email address.

  Gidion tried the “forgot password?” link, but without knowing the email address, it was about as helpful as Grandpa when it came to any form of technology created after the sixties.

  Giving up on the email for now, Gidion went to the bookmarks. The list ran so long, the drop list couldn’t fit all of the links on the screen. Clicking on a few made it clear all too quickly, they were just more of the same: movie sites and porn.

  The clock was close to midnight by the time Gidion gave up on GQ Drac’s laptop and went for Bonnie’s. She clearly wore the creative pants in the relationship. Her laptop had come with a lime green cover, but she’d taken a permanent marker to it. The black design resembled a Celtic knot that covered all of the improvised canvas.

  Cracking into her computer proved just as easy, but where GQ’s desktop was chaotic repetition, Bonnie’s was simple and organized. The only nudity to be found on her laptop belonged to the pictures of Greco-Roman murals and tapestries. She had several art programs, and it didn’t take long to realize she did a lot of graphic artwork. The longer he went through the folders of artwork and photography, the tighter the knot in his stomach grew. This felt too human. He wondered if perhaps she was newly-turned, that all this was from her mortal life. The absence of any daytime photography made it clear that wasn’t the explanation. He almost shut it down, not wanting to think on the idea that this beautiful creativity came from a beast.

  He noticed a black and red icon on the desktop that resembled a set of fangs. Clicking on it opened a folder filled with videos. After all the art, he hesitated to play the videos, but curiosity won. The video opened in the media player with an image of a woman tied spread-eagle to a bed. She struggled against the ropes. A gag in her mouth turned her screams into muffled protests. The quality of the video didn’t look that impressive, probably taken with a smart phone or maybe this laptop’s camera.

  “Great.” Gidion shook his head. “More porn.”

  Only this didn’t play out like he expected, because the woman who stepped in front of the camera was Bonnie, fangs and all.

  “All ready, baby?” She leaned in towards the camera, filling the screen as she blew a kiss. “Next one will be yours.”

  What followed involved a knife and the slow torture and slaughter of the woman on the bed. Bonnie fed off the woman, but that was only part of the game. She taunted the woman on the bed with her words, teasing her with false hope that she’d let her go and then the lie that she’d end it quickly.

  By the time Bonnie blew a parting kiss to the camera from her blood-covered lips, almost an hour had passed. Gidion’s hands shook. He knew he should be disgusted and running for the bathroom to vomit, but Bonnie’s sadistic game was infused with the same artistry she gave everything else. He was turned on by it more than the porn he’d found on the other laptop.

  Looking through her photography and artwork had made him feel like he’d violated her, but Bonnie’s video collection repaid the insult many times over.

  That video couldn’t be the last thing he did tonight. God only knew what dreams he’d have if he went to bed right after that. He forced himself to push forward, going for the web browsers, praying that what he found there wouldn’t be as difficult to watch.

  She had two web browsers loaded on her laptop, so he opted for the one that wasn’t Internet Explorer. The first thing that came up was Google, and this looked promising. Up in the right corner was a small avatar with a picture of Bonnie. A link held out the hope for Gmail, so he clicked it.

  The browser didn’t go to a login screen. Bonnie’s email account opened, no password required. “Thank you, Bonnie.”

  Her email offered little to interest him, mostly humorous forwards from friends, if a monster could truly have any.

  One was sent from DragonSwordVA@gmail.com just a few days before Gidion killed her. The message mentioned something about an opportunity for Bonnie’s “special talents” in Richmond. The email didn’t specify the opportunity or which of her special talents was being referred to. After watching Bonnie’s video, Gidion doubted he wanted to know, but this meant Bonnie and GQ Drac we
ren’t just passing through Richmond when he ambushed them.

  A forward from Saturday night, sent shortly before the fight in the van, caught his eye next. The email address was GHammond1949@aol.com. Not only had he gotten into Bonnie’s email, but now he had a username to work with for GQ. He’d take another crack at that after he finished with Bonnie’s laptop.

  The message from GQ was just two words, “Told you.”

  The forward came from an email GQ had received from a Gmail account with the username VampGen_EastCoast. The message was only slightly less terse than GQ’s:

  She needs a better picture than that shit if you expect to get paid.

  Picture…GQ Drac had gone for the camera on his iPhone when they met in front of the Blue Goat. He’d lost the phone when that car hit him, but sure enough, there was an image attached. When Gidion opened it, he felt his body shiver with fear and relief.

  The blue Christmas lights of the Blue Goat glowed in the background. The original email sent to this VampGen guy contained the explanation. His phone automatically uploaded any pictures taken to an iCloud account. GQ Drac came damn close to outing him, and this VampGen guy must have been willing to pay for the picture. Fortunately for Gidion and unfortunately for GQ, the picture looked fuzzy and grainy. Anyone seeing this wouldn’t be able to identify his race or age.

  Gidion went back to the main screen for Bonnie’s Gmail account and did a search by this VampGen’s email address. A long list of emails appeared, most with the same subject, “Confirmation of Tithe Received.”

  He’d realized these vampires were organized, but not this much. The second most common email subject was simply titled “Weekly Travel Log” and contained a list of cities. Each city included a sub-list of email addresses. After going through a few of the weekly travel logs, Gidion realized the email addresses listed identified which vampire was in which city. Sure enough, the most recent one placed Bonnie and GQ Drac in Richmond. Each city also included a number in parentheses, the number of vampires there. Some of the numbers showed up in red. Gidion assumed the red numbers meant the location had exceeded its allowance of nomadic vampires for the week. He took some pride in seeing Richmond’s number staying black. He wondered how high it had to go to make it red, but the biggest number he’d seen listed since October was seven.

  At the bottom of each weekly travel log was a list of email addresses not assigned to a city. Instead, the list identified nomadic vampires who had “Failed to Check In.” Gidion recognized two of the email addresses, the pair of vampires he’d killed at the Zombie Walk in October. The list had gotten longer with each week. No wonder the vampires had realized a hunter was going after them, especially when so many of the missing had their last check-in while visiting Richmond.

  He went back to Bonnie’s inbox and scrolled down until he came to an email from mid-December. The subject made it impossible to miss, “RICCVN.” The Richmond Coven had used that same abbreviation in text messages to several nomadic vampires back in September. VampGen had sent it to himself and included everyone else using BCC, so there was no way to know exactly how many vampires received this. If the travel logs offered an indication, then possibly several hundred.

  What he found in that email wasn’t about the Richmond Coven, though. It was about him.

  His handiwork hadn’t gone unnoticed, and there was nothing vague in how they planned to deal with him.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The next day didn’t improve matters. Gidion slept just three hours before he went to school. He’d been lucky to get that much.

  The gears wouldn’t stop turning in his head.

  He took his quiz on World War II, but the only thought his brain could pull up was the email about him. After reading it, he’d searched Bonnie’s virtual mailbox for any other details that might help him prepare. He even managed to hack into GQ Drac’s email since he’d found a username to work with, but the only thing there were the same messages Bonnie received.

  After school ended, Gidion went straight to the funeral home. By this time in the day, Grandpa was finishing up with the funeral services and preparing for the evening’s visitations.

  Gidion went in the back way, hoping to find Grandpa in his office, but no such luck. He was up front handing out assignments for the evening’s visitations. Gidion knew better than to interrupt. He waited in the hallway. The dim light from the mounted lamps designed to look like candles cast the white walls and green carpet into darker hues. He didn’t know Grandpa realized he was there, until he’d dismissed everyone. The old man hobbled down the hallway and past him with only a glance.

  “What are you doing here?” He didn’t wait for Gidion as he continued towards the back office.

  “Need to talk.” Gidion glanced over his shoulder to make sure they were out of ear shot from the rest of the employees.

  “Maybe I’m not in the mood.”

  “It starts with me apologizing, if that helps.”

  Grandpa stopped outside his office, blocking the door with his frail body. Gidion was almost as tall as him these days, but moments like this made him feel a whole foot shorter than Grandpa.

  “Your apology isn’t worth shit. I know a beggar when I see one, and if you owned a hat, it’d be in your hand. What is it?”

  Gidion avoided Grandpa’s face. Instead, he stared at the age spots on the back of Grandpa’s hand, gripped around his cane. He’d written and rewritten in his head what to say, but his reserves for eloquence came up empty.

  “They’ve hired someone to kill me.”

  Grandpa grabbed him by the collar of his jacket and dragged him into the office before he slammed the door shut.

  A dozen different curses, half of them in languages Gidion didn’t recognize, spit out of the former sailor’s lips.

  “I fucking told you to lay low.” He slammed his cane against the side of the desk as he walked around it to sit. “When you wiped out that coven, the thing to do was shut down for a few months. You might as well have bought a damn billboard on I-95 that says, ‘Hunter here: come and get me, assholes.’ How could you be so goddamned stupid?”

  Gidion didn’t answer.

  “You seen this hit man yet?” Grandpa asked. “How do you even know they have one after you? Not that it’s any fucking surprise.”

  Gidion explained about the laptops. He started with how he’d hacked into them but skipped all that when he realized he might as well speak Klingon. All Grandpa needed to know was what was in the email.

  “Whoever sent the email organizes the nomadic vampires, like some kind of club complete with monthly dues. They know a hunter wiped out the local coven and that I’ve been taking out any nomad I find in Richmond. They track their members, so the body count they’ve figured is pretty close.”

  Gidion jumped when Grandpa slammed his cane on the desktop. “Get to the damn hit man already.”

  He resisted the urge to pace, even though it was killing him to stand still. “It’s actually a woman, and that’s all I know about her other than she specializes in killing vampire hunters. Not sure where she’s coming from because it sounded like she was going to take a while to get here.” For a brief moment, he’d hoped the message Bonnie had received about her “special talents” might suggest she’d been the assassin, and that he’d gotten lucky by ambushing her first. No such luck, though. The timeline didn’t work out. Bonnie didn’t get that email until a few days ago, but the email from December made it clear they’d already contacted and hired the assassin.

  “They’re offering a reward for anyone who can get my picture or figure out my name or where I live.”

  “How much?” Grandpa asked.

  “Five thousand bucks with an extra ‘five k’ if it actually helps get me killed.”

  Grandpa laughed. His smile doubled the wrinkles on his face. He whooped and drummed his hands on the desk. The sudden turn in his mood was almost as unnerving as the threat of this faceless assassin.

  “They’re offering ten
thousand dollars just for the tip.” Grandpa leaned over the desk to point at Gidion. “Can you imagine what they’re paying this bitch? I doubt I pay you that much in a year to drive my hearse.”

  Gidion just stared as Grandpa worked through his laughing fit.

  “Don’t you get it, boy?” He shrugged those bony shoulders of his that insisted this should be obvious. “You’re worth more dead than alive.”

  Then his laughter cut off and the smile vanished into that scowl he’d worn for weeks now.

  “You must have these fuckers pissing in their coffins. I’d be damn proud of you if that price tag didn’t measure how stupid you’ve been.”

  “Are you done?” Gidion felt his fingernails digging into the palms of his fists. “Because I’d really like to not get killed, and I have no idea what they’re sending my way. I don’t even know if this woman is a vampire or a human.”

  Grandpa leaned back, the chair squeaking as he shifted. “Too late to just lay low, boy. You kicked the hornets’ nest.”

  “So what do I do?”

  Grandpa forced his way back onto his feet. “We,” and he emphasized that word, “are going to throw money at the problem.” He pulled his worn, leather wallet out of his suit jacket’s breast pocket and placed a small stack of twenties on the desk.

  Gidion picked up the cash and counted it. “I don’t imagine we’re going to pay this hit woman with a hundred and sixty dollars to walk away.”

  “No, you’re going to take your car and get it cleaned. Make ’em clean the interior three times over. Tip ’em good, too.”

  Grandpa hobbled to the coat rack in the corner of his office. Putting on his trenchcoat and fedora made him look like an FBI agent from some sixties spy film. “After you get done with the car, go home. Put every piece of clothing that’s gotten vampire blood on it into a trash bag, find a dumpster somewhere and toss it.