Gidion's Blood

by Bill Blume

  Mom patted Matthew’s bicep and then placed herself between her pet and Dad. “I’ve always loved this side of you,” she said with a smile that was equal parts sugar and sin, “my handsome white knight, but we both know it’s too late for you to leave.”

  Judging from the pain in Dad’s expression, he knew Mom was right.

  Gidion pointed his sword at Mom as a threat. “We’re leaving anyway.”

  “Then you’re condemning your father to death.” She walked in front of Blood’s running car as if it presented no threat. Blood’s eyes tracked Mom’s movements the way a hungry cat follows a rodent. “I guess your school’s sex ed classes left out the part on how you make a vampire. I’ve drained and fed your father twice. If he misses the third feeding, he’ll die within a week, and he’ll suffer the entire way.”

  The news hit him hard enough to make him stumble back. He glanced at Blood, who was staring at him. An impatient roll of her eyes and a single, firm nod confirmed Mom’s warning wasn’t a bluff.

  “Gidion.” Mom’s voice pulled him back to her. “I was wondering if it was you who killed Teanna?”

  The question left him confused for a moment, but then he remembered the vampires in the van outside the hotel. She was talking about “Bonnie,” the vampire with the snuff videos on her laptop. The name on her driver’s license had been Teanna.

  “Yeah, I killed her. Why?”

  “Did you like her?” She asked it like this was Christmas morning, and he’d just opened his presents. “I picked her for you.”

  “That’s enough!” Dad moved in closer, his gun trained on Mom instead of Matthew.

  “No!” Her snarl brought Dad to a stop next to Blood’s driver side window. “You still don’t understand. I’m doing this for us, so we can be together again. You have no idea how alone I’ve been.”

  Gidion remembered the email that was sent to Teanna about an opportunity here in Richmond. Now he understood. The opportunity wasn’t to find the hunter killing all the nomads who traveled through Richmond. She’d planned for Bonnie to turn him, the same way she was turning Dad.

  “You’re wrong, Mom. He’s been alone for a very long time. We both have, and I finally understand why.”

  Mom answered with a silent stare that belonged to the monster she’d become.

  “Blood,” he said, without taking his eyes off of Mom, “light ’em up.”

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  The headlights on the Buick flared to life, blinding Mom and her shades despite their sunglasses. Everything went to Hell after that.

  Blood planted her foot on the accelerator, launching close to two tons of automobile at the vampires and their Hyundai.

  Bullets fired both ways. Gidion heard them hiss past him and strike the cement floor and brick wall of the garage. Mom screamed, getting clipped by the front of the car as she tried to run out of the way. The vampires shouted and stumbled blindly as they retreated.

  Metal smashed and screeched as the front of the Buick buried into the side of the Hyundai. With only ten feet to travel, it only managed so much damage.

  Both Gidion and Blood, who abandoned the Buick, charged forward with their swords. Gidion reached the “duelist” first. The vampire tripped on one of the bricks as he fled. Even blinded, his keen hearing detected Gidion’s approach. He raised his gun, pointing it towards the sound of footsteps, but he got the gun up too late. Gidion sent his head rolling across the bricks.

  He wondered how long they had to finish this before the police showed. The two shots earlier wouldn’t have drawn much attention. A car crash and a full-blown gunfight was a different story.

  Mom ran for her car, but before she got halfway to it, two bullets from Dad’s gun struck the black Mustang. Both hit the front tire. One shot ricocheted, whistling off the brick driveway. The other shot flattened the tire, deflating it in seconds.

  Without missing a beat, Mom changed directions, running for the front door of the house. She pulled out her gun as she did it and shot in the direction the bullets had come from. The reaction must have been instinct, because she screamed as she realized she’d just hit Dad.

  She stopped as he collapsed to the bricks. “Aric!” Gidion thought she might go to him, but she retreated into the house instead.

  Blood was busy with Matthew. The driver of the Hyundai was still in the driver’s seat of the car, but his head was now on the driveway where Blood had probably tossed it after slicing it off.

  Even though Dad fell face down on the ground, a groan let Gidion know he was alive.

  “Where are you hit?” Gidion asked as he rolled him onto his back.

  “My hip.” Dad winced as he laughed. “Your mom always did like my hips.”

  Gidion pulled out his phone to get an ambulance. Mom would have to wait. Dad grabbed his wrist to stop him.

  “I’ll be fine.”

  Was he nuts? “The big blood stain says otherwise. I’m calling. Now, shut up.”

  Dad didn’t let go. “It’s already healing.”

  The vampire blood Mom had fed him… “What she said,” Gidion glanced over his shoulder at Blood and Matthew to make sure things still weren’t going Matthew’s way. “Will you really die?”

  Dad nodded. “Done deal.”

  “Then maybe we should let Mom finish it.” Gidion laughed from nerves, but he was serious.

  Dad grabbed him by the front of his jacket and pulled him in close. “That is not your mother. She’s been gone a long time. I just didn’t want to admit it.” Dad took in a sharp breath as he sat up and leaned his head against Gidion’s chest. “I’ve spent the past decade watching her slip away, because I couldn’t bring myself to give her a quick end.”

  “It’s all right.” He lowered Dad to the driveway and stood.

  “Gidion?”

  “Because I’m gonna end it.”

  He didn’t look back as he ran after Mom.

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Dad’s shouts chased after Gidion just before he ran inside. He didn’t doubt Dad felt obligated to finish this himself, but it was too late. If he didn’t reach Mom before the police arrived, then this might never end.

  The house was still dark and silent, except for the hockey game on the TV in the back. He glanced at the hardwood floor, hoping for a trail of blood to follow. No such luck. Mom’s wounds, if she’d had any from Blood hitting her with the car, had healed.

  Gidion patted his jacket just above the concealed “eight” which was also positioned above the red bat logo on his t-shirt. He moved through the house quickly. Mom had to hear him, but he’d long passed the need to keep quiet. Only the risk of ambush prevented him from running through the house.

  He needn’t have worried. He found her on the floor of her bedroom. She sat with her back to the door. Her gun rested next to her, just within reach. She held a picture in her hand, the one of her and Dad with him as a baby.

  “I saw you play football when you were in fifth grade.” She sounded like she was crying, but he couldn’t decide if he should trust it. “It was the only evening game you had that season. Your Dad let me know ahead of time, so I could make it.”

  Gidion went into the room, but stayed just out of her reach. His hands ached from their grip on his sword.

  “That was the last time I saw you.” She ran her fingertips over him in the picture. “After that, I just couldn’t bear to see you again, to be that close and never near enough.”

  Her body tensed. Then she launched from her spot. Her hands dropped the picture and snatched the gun. Gidion darted to the right. He needed to get behind her and move in close enough to take her head before she could shoot him.

  The gun fired before he could even rear his sword back for the strike.

  The hiss of pain he heard didn’t come from him or Mom. The bullets went towards the door and struck the same vampire Dad had shot in the garage. His face was only half-healed, a shattered mess of flesh with one eye obliterated. His body jerked back from the shots th
at went into his chest.

  Before the vampire could recover, Gidion shoved him to the floor and sliced his head off in a single strike.

  He looked back at Mom as she lowered the gun. The slide was locked back. She’d emptied every bullet to protect him. The gun slipped from her fingers and clattered to the hardwood floor.

  She trembled as she removed her sunglasses. He expected to see his mother’s blue eyes, the ones he’d always studied in her wedding picture, but they were vampire eyes, the eyes of a shade. The widened pupil all but hid her iris.

  He followed her in here to kill her. She must know it, but she’d still prevented one of her own from attacking him.

  “You’re my son.”

  She reached out for him. He stepped back, and she whimpered at his revulsion. Something in him split apart to see her like that, to know even now when she was more monster than mother, he’d managed to hurt her.

  “I just wanted things to be like they were.” She kept her arms outstretched.

  He went to her. A sob shuddered through her chest as she pulled him close. The hug didn’t offer any warmth and only made him colder as she crushed herself against his body, still covered in damp clothes.

  “I have a girlfriend,” he said, struggling to get the words out. “You’d like her.”

  She laughed and sounded almost human again. “I wish I could meet her.”

  “I made her a promise this morning.” As he rested his forehead against Mom’s shoulder, he noticed for the first time that he was taller. “I didn’t realize until now that there was never any danger of not keeping it.”

  He still heard Andrea’s voice, filled with all of her insistence and fear as she explained the old fable.

  Mom stroked his hair and kissed him just above his ear. “What was the promise?”

  “Not to be a frog.”

  Mom pulled back to look him in the eyes. Her face was twisted with confusion. “I don’t understand.”

  He almost choked on his reply. “I know.”

  He’d always been the scorpion, and what came next had never been in doubt.

  The strike of his sword was swift, arriving more than a decade late.

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  Blood had already started the cleanup by the time Gidion rejoined her and Dad outside. Even if any of the neighbors had called the police and provided a detail to make it worth going lights and sirens, the twisted roads along the river probably slowed them.

  The three of them managed to get the cars, except for Mom’s Mustang, into the garage and slid the vampire bodies in there, too. From there, Gidion relied on a subtle bit of trickery to deal with the police.

  Remembering Dad’s comments about how most people can never tell the difference between fireworks and gunfire, Gidion had prepared for something like this long ago. This past New Year’s, he gathered some previously set off fireworks that he’d found in his neighborhood. He tossed them over the fence and into the street.

  If the officer stopped in front of the gate, he’d see them and assume some kids had set them off. Police expect citizens to get it wrong when it comes to gunfire and fireworks, just one of the reasons they don’t go lights and sirens for those calls.

  “Pretty clever,” Dad said as they watched from inside the house. They waited upstairs, roughly in the same place on the stairs where they’d been when they spotted Mom and her vampires pull into the driveway. A patrol car crawled past the front gate. A bright light mounted on the top of the police cruiser flashed over the property, moving across Mom’s car, but given the way the Mustang was parked and how far it was from the road, the flat tire was hidden from view. Dad didn’t flinch this time. He’d borrowed Matthew’s sunglasses, since he no longer needed them.

  “Came up with the idea for the fireworks a long time ago,” Gidion said. “Always wanted to surprise Grandpa with it, but I never got to use it until now.”

  “He’d have been impressed.”

  Gidion wasn’t so sure about that, given how things had gotten between the two of them during Grandpa’s last days.

  “I need to call Ms. Aldgate,” Gidion said, “and let her know we’re not dead.”

  He didn’t need to look at Dad to know the mention of Ms. Aldgate made him nervous. Dad’s voice was cautious when he finally managed to speak. “What did you tell her—?”

  “About Mom?” The words came out with more venom than he’d intended. He took a breath to get out the bitterness before he said more. “I didn’t tell her anything. Just couldn’t think of a way to do it. Didn’t want to.”

  Blood appeared in the foyer below them.

  “Find anything else useful?” Gidion asked.

  She climbed the steps. “Not really.”

  Gidion reached into his backpack, resting on the steps beside him. He pulled out Mom’s purple laptop and held it out to her. The entire time, he kept his right hand wrapped around the hilt of his sword, just in case she tried anything.

  Blood eyed the laptop once she’d joined them on the stairs.

  “My mom’s,” he said. “I suspect you’ll find whatever information you need on here.”

  “Questioning her would have been better.” Her complaint didn’t prevent her from taking the laptop.

  “So, how do you plan to provide them with proof I’m dead?” Gidion adjusted his grip on his sword.

  “When you are ready,” she said, looking past him at Dad, “call me.”

  Gidion didn’t take his eyes off her as she headed for the front door. He wanted to cut her down for what she was suggesting, but part of him knew he should thank her.

  She stopped at the door and smirked over her shoulder at Gidion.

  “Remember, Honey.” She waggled a finger at him. “No more killing.”

  “Sure thing, Muffin.”

  She didn’t smile at the nickname he’d promised not to use, but she didn’t complain either. Gidion watched her every step as she walked up the driveway to make sure she really left.

  “Don’t hate her for what she’s going to do.” Dad’s voice was a whisper full of dread. “I’ll be lucky if I last a week. Healing that gunshot probably used a lot of what your Mom gave me. Means I’ll burn out a lot—”

  “Shut up.” Much as he didn’t want to, Gidion glared up at his dad. “Grandpa’s visitation is tomorrow, the funeral the day after. I’d rather save some tears for that.”

  Dad pulled him into a hug. Unlike the one from Mom, this one had the right warmth to it. She hadn’t taken that from him yet.

  Chapter Fifty

  Gidion spilled more tears at the visitation than he expected. In hindsight, he realized his backup plan to lure the vampires here would never have worked. He was drained, physically and emotionally.

  The line of visitors for Grandpa went out the door of the funeral home. About half of them were people Dad knew from work, including some police officers in uniform who stopped by during their shift or on their way to work. Others were closer to Grandpa’s age. A few of the older ones spoke about what a good man he’d been. Some would hesitate as if they wanted to say something more but were too scared to. A handful worked up the nerve to share a story of Grandpa saving them from a “mugger.” Gidion wondered how many of them believed that was the truth and refused to believe it was a vampire? Maybe they didn’t think Gidion or Dad would believe it.

  Ms. Aldgate stayed at Dad’s side the entire time. Seeing them together made Gidion smile. They held hands. Ms. Aldgate sometimes rested her head on Dad’s shoulder.

  Grandpa had insisted on a closed casket. While he didn’t often discuss what his final wishes were, one thing he’d made clear was that he would never want his corpse put on display. Gidion and Dad had always known that, and even most of the funeral staff had known. During the funeral home’s slower moments, the conversation would often turn to some of the more unusual requests they’d seen and what each of them would want at their own funerals.

  The most awkward moment came early in the visitation. Seth
, accompanied by his mother, came to pay his respects. They didn’t hug or shake hands. That wasn’t because they were angry with each other. They just never did that sort of thing.

  While Seth’s mom was busy talking to Gidion’s Dad, Seth said in a lowered voice, “I messed up.” He looked down at his feet. “You were right.”

  Gidion nodded. “I screwed up, too. I’m sorry if I got between you and Andrea.”

  Seth shook his head. “Problem was all me.”

  “Are you—”

  “Andrea made it pretty clear we’re done. I’m sorry if that means the same for us.”

  “She and I, uh.” Gidion hesitated, unsure if saying this here was the best idea.

  “Yeah, I know. Word got around fast at school.” Seth smiled, which surprised Gidion. “I’m okay with it. Are we—I mean you and I—are we good?”

  Gidion nodded. He meant it, and he didn’t doubt Seth did, too. Later, he understood Andrea didn’t kill their friendship. They’d started drifting in different directions long before she entered the picture. The night Gidion first learned vampires were real, that their existence had taken his mother from him, his childhood had ended. That night, he’d started to leave his friends behind to turn himself into a hunter.

  He and Seth would still speak in the years to come. The conversations simply got shorter, and the time between them longer.

  About halfway through the visitation, Andrea arrived. Gidion found it mildly ironic that she also came with her mother, but he didn’t share the thought. He mentioned about Seth showing up earlier and left it at that.