Dark Thirst

by Angela Allen

  Malika enters the room, Smokey’s medical file in her hand. “Oh no,” she says. “We’ve got plans for you, Doctor. Big plans.” Mace grabs Sylvia’s dead body and places it on top of the bed.

  “Get your hands off her!” Doc yells, struggling wildly against Lou’s iron grip.

  “Ease up, bro,” Mace teases. “She’ll be back. Right around sunset. All hungry and shit. And thirsty. Definitely thirsty.”

  “Fat bastard!” Doc throws at him.

  “Takes one to know one,” Mace replies with a speaking look at Doc’s belly bulging out over the waist of his pants.

  “Quiet,” Malika commands. She stands by Doc as she reads his notes on Smokey. “Let’s see, brain tumor, huh? Intense pain whenever he changes. Powers may become unstable as pressure on brain increases. Aw, how sad.”

  Lou releases Doc and the fat, little man falls to the floor like a sack of potatoes. “You don’t realize it yet,” Lou says, “but your big ass just switched sides. You’re working for us now.”

  Malika unbuttons Doc’s shirt and then lifts up his undershirt. She holds up her right hand, the fingernails becoming huge claws. She slashes Doc across his stomach. He screams. Malika enjoys that. She whispers in his ear, “You won’t remember any of this. You’ll go back down the stairs, sit in your favorite chair and go to sleep with a book in your hand, just like you always do. Tomorrow morning you’ll wake up. And you’ll climb up the stairs to check on your wife. You’ll find her just as we’ve left her and with these words written on the walls in her blood: ‘This time everybody dies.’ ” She ends with a light kiss on the top of his balding head. “You will hate Smokey for getting you involved in this fight. A part of you will want payback. A part of you already does. Just remember this: he trusts you. Use that against him.”

  Malika’s a bitch but she’s hellishly good at what she does. The next morning, everything goes down exactly as she said it would. Several neighbors say they heard the wails that Doc gave when he walked in to find his wife dead and her blood decorating the walls. None of them could make out the curses he yelled, but they say it sounded like he wanted to kill somebody.

  It’s Smokey’s cell phone that wakes them. Smokey and Officer Pete have spent the night in Shelly’s hospital room debating their next moves. Doc’s call and the bad news about Sylvia is painful to hear but not a surprise. Malika has a well-established pattern of destroying anything Smokey loves.

  “It’s just a distraction,” Pete argues. “They want us to check in on Doc and while we’re doing that, they’ll do the kid.”

  Shelly struggles to pull herself upright. The effort leaves her a little dizzy. “We need someone to tell us where they’ve got my son,” she says. “Who would know?”

  Smokey stretches and walks over to the tray beside Shelly’s bed and pours himself a cup of water. Sometime today he’ll have to make funeral arrangements for his two dead sons. He’s damned if he’ll bury a grandson, too.

  “I can think of three people who could tell us what we want to know,” Smokey begins. “The one they serve: Satan. The one they’ve killed: Sylvia.”

  Pete rubs his tired eyes. “Wait a minute. How’s someone they’ve killed gonna tell us anything?”

  “Doc said they drained his wife dry right before his eyes,” Smokey says. “That means that this evening Sylvia will come back as a vampire. Even if she wasn’t bitten by the lead vampire, she’s got a psychic link to that bitch. They’re all branches off the same vine.”

  Shelly hobbles over to her father and puts her hand on his shoulder. “Daddy, you mentioned three people who could tell us something. That’s only two. Who’s the third?”

  Smokey turns to her. The look on his face is one she’s never seen before. For the first time in her life, Shelly can see fear in her father’s eyes. “The third choice would be Yusef. Anyone who battles him can get any question they want answered.”

  “What happens if you battle Yusef and you lose?” Pete asks.

  “Then he claims the soul of the person you love the most,” answers Smokey.

  In its heyday, the Windsor was one of the flashiest hotels in the city. Now it holds an odd mix of working folks, the poor and people who are part of what some called the “underground economy”: drugs, stolen goods, prostitution. You can find just about anything in the Windsor. So the smart thing to do if you live here is to keep your doors locked and your mouth shut.

  This is where Shelly and Lou lived. If you can call that living. And these are the neighbors who always heard Shelly getting beat but never called 911.

  And down the hall is Ugly Nikki’s apartment. Nikki has opened his home to his undead friends. Other than a high school picture commemorating him being selected by the newspaper sports section for All-City as a linebacker, Nikki’s apartment is a pink paradise of femininity.

  There’s a lot of pink. The walls are pink. The sofa is pink. The thick fabric covering the windows is pink. And don’t forget about the stuffed animals. There’s a pink army of them.

  Nikki had redecorated in anticipation of his “change.” The one where he finally got to show the world his inner woman. Unfortunately, he was bitten by a vampire the night before he was scheduled to have his “elective surgery.” The vampire that bit him has spoiled Nikki ever since, trying to make up for taking away his dream.

  Today that vampire is seated on Nikki’s sofa reading e-mail when Mace walks in, running his hand up and down his new arm.

  “How’s your arm?” Malika asks, not looking up from her laptop.

  “It’s alright,” Mace says. “Just a little stiff, that’s all. Kept me up all day.”

  “It’ll be that way for a few nights,” Malika says. “Just remember, you can grow back anything except your head.”

  From the other room Lou shouts, “Cool, he never uses that anyway.”

  Lou walks up behind Malika, yawning, then kisses her and sneaks a peek at her computer screen. It’s full of e-mail in a variety of languages.

  “I move around a lot,” she explains. “Europe. Asia.”

  “What about Africa?” Lou asks. “They got vampires in the Motherland?”

  “Of course,” Malika replies. “The Ashanti called them obayifo. They were witches that fed on the blood of children.”

  “They went after little kids?” Mace says. “That’s kinda foul.”

  “Few things demoralize an enemy faster than turning his family against him. Or make it easier for someone to switch sides.” She looks up from her computer screen at Lou.

  “That’s why we needed your son,” she says. “His death is more than just a victory in battle. Snatching him demoralizes the entire family.”

  Lou sits at a small, circular glass-top dining table. He’s rolling a silver bullet in his palm. He’s been dreaming about Shelly the last few days. Remembering the good times.

  “How about his mother? Is she a werewolf?” Malika asks.

  “Shelly?” Lou wonders aloud. “Wow, I never thought about that. I don’t know.”

  “Naw, she ain’t one,” Mace says.

  “How the hell would you know?” Lou snaps.

  Mace turns on the TV and sits on the sofa next to Malika. “Think about it,” he explains. “As much as you went upside that bitch’s head, if she was one, you’d know by now. She woulda changed and beat your ass.”

  “That girl still loves me, man,” Lou brags. “Know how I know? She almost let me bite her at the game.”

  “Wait a minute,” Malika says. “You beat your wife?”

  “Don’t listen to that nigga,” Lou says. “He’s exaggerating and shit. I mean, we did some arguing and maybe sometimes things got a little physical, but that’s what married couples do, you know?”

  Malika shuts off her computer. “Let me take a guess. You abused this woman in your first life and you’re hoping to make it better by turning her into a vampire and living happily ever after?”

  “I don’t know,” Lou lies. “Maybe.”

  “Nigga,
please,” Mace says. “Even if you turn her, first chance she gets, you’re outta here.”

  “Yo, I don’t remember asking your punk ass for advice,” Lou shouts.

  “No, Lou. He’s right,” Malika says, sitting down at the table. “Do you really want to spend the rest of eternity having to sleep with one eye open?”

  “Exactly.” Mace smirks.

  “I don’t know. I’m thinking if we talked, maybe things could be different now. Hell, I’m different now,” Lou argues.

  “No, you’re not,” Malika says.

  Lou gets up in a huff, ready to walk out of the room but Malika grabs him.

  “The next time you see her I want you to kill her,” Malika says.

  “What?” Lou replies.

  “You heard me,” Malika says. “Drain every last drop out of her. She’s food. Nothing more, nothing less.”

  Lou ponders a moment. “Shit ain’t that simple, yo. She’s my wife. I used to love her. Maybe I still do.”

  “No, Lou. She’s your weakness. And that weakness could get you killed.”

  Lou pulls out of Malika’s grip and walks into the other room.

  “Think he’ll do it?” Mace asks, toying with the idea of following Lou to tease him about Shelly some more. He loved to get a rise out of that nigga.

  Mace suddenly notices Malika stripping off her top. She pulls Mace toward her and begins to undress him. “Lou doesn’t want love,” she says. “He wants control. That’s what all men want.”

  She pushes Mace onto the floor, then shimmies out of her panties and straddles him, her lower lips singing to his manhood. Every time he reaches for her, she pushes his hands away. The sex is loud, hot and nasty. Hearing them, Lou walks back into the room. He watches. Malika has Mace pinned to the ground and sweating to the point of collapse. She turns to look back at Lou.

  “Here’s a little secret, boys: you don’t control us,” Malika says, tightening her pelvic muscles so that Mace moans on cue. “We control you. Now come here,” she beckons to Lou. And he does.

  Sundown. Doc’s house. After the wild screams they heard last night, his neighbors are keeping their distance. But everybody is watching. And waiting.

  As Smokey, Pete and Shelly climb out of Pete’s squad car, Smokey pulls a spear the size of a man’s arm out of the backseat and hands it to Shelly.

  “What’s this?” she asks.

  “A gift from Yusef. A stabbing spear from our ancestors. It will make anyone it touches answer any question you ask. You might want to use it on Sylvia.”

  Shelly holds the spear in her hands, examining the symbols etched on it.

  “So you already fought him once? And lived to talk about it,” Pete says, clearly impressed. “What did you ask him?” Pete says, while unbuttoning his shirt to reveal his gold cross.

  “I asked him if he would help me find the monster that murdered my wife,” Smokey says. “Yusef held out the stabbing spear and said, ‘When the child becomes a mother, darkness will flee the cross.’ ” Both men turn to look at Shelly. She starts to say something, but whatever the words are, they get swallowed in the sound of Doc’s screams.

  The chilling screams die away as they climb the front steps. “Spread out,” Pete cautions. “And yell if you see anything.” He heads into the living room. Smokey takes the stairs leading to the bedroom. Shelly walks to the rear of the house.

  Both Smokey and Shelly race into the living room at Pete’s yell. It’s a horrible sight. They find what used to be Sylvia. This undead creature knocks away Pete’s gun and sends him flying across the room and crashing into a wall-sized bookcase. She’s bleeding from several bullet wounds. Smokey had prepped Pete with wooden bullets. The rookie cop fired them all. None of them struck her heart. They only pissed her off. Pete scrambles for a weapon as Sylvia moves in for the kill. He grabs a floor lamp and uses it to hold her at bay.

  “Sylvia!” yells Smokey in a loud voice. She stops. A look of faint remembrance and intelligence crosses her vacant face. She recognizes her old friend. But the dark thirst is strong. And it doesn’t have friends.

  Smokey attempts to transform, straining, sweating and swearing.

  Pete sees the old man’s eyes shift from brown to bloodred, then back to their normal color.

  “Damn it!” Smokey says. Gonna have to do this shit the hard way.

  “On three, Pete! One. Two. Three.” Smokey hurls himself at Sylvia, tackling her. Pete jumps on top. Sylvia easily throws off both men.

  A sharp barking erupts behind her. “Mr. Big!” Sylvia gushes, her face lightening. “Come to Mommy, boy. Come to Mommy!” The little dog barks angrily, his teeth bared.

  As Sylvia approaches the dog, she catches sight of herself in a wall mirror. She is shocked into stillness. Her body is human but her head is a fleshless skull crawling with maggots. She screams and tosses a book at the mirror, shattering it.

  “Miss Sylvia,” Shelly calls softly.

  Sylvia turns and finds Shelly standing beside her. Shelly has Yusef’s spear aimed at Sylvia’s chest. Shelly drives the spear into the vampire’s foot, pinning Sylvia to the floor. Pete and Smokey rise to their feet.

  “Sylvia, tell me where my son is,” demands Shelly. Sylvia trembles and thrashes against the power of the spear. But the magic is too strong.

  “The Windsor,” she grits out through clenched teeth. Shelly yanks the spear out of the vampire’s foot and she collapses, moaning.

  “Good-bye,” Shelly whispers, choking back tears. She takes a firm grip on Yusef’s spear, raises it high and brings it down quickly, slamming it deep into Sylvia’s chest. The woman Shelly loves like a mother bursts into flame, then turns into dust.

  Pete walks over to the carpet stain that used to be Sylvia. “Any sign of her husband?” Pete asks.

  “Let me worry about that,” Smokey says.

  “We gotta go,” Shelly says. “Sun’s down. They may have already started on Ricky. We have to hurry!”

  “Bitch, you ain’t going nowhere,” says a voice from behind Shelly. As she turns around, she’s sucker-punched with an uppercut to the jaw. Shelly falls to the floor, dropping Yusef’s spear. Shelly looks up at Ugly Nikki. He’s dressed as Diana Ross in Lady Sings the Blues, with a gardenia coyly tucked behind one ear. Nikki kicks off his high heels and pops off his earrings.

  “And once I’m through with you,” Nikki yells, “I’m having them for dessert.”

  “Oh damn!” Pete says to Smokey. “Isn’t that Ugly Nikki?”

  “Oh no, you didn’t!” Nikki says. “That was just out-and-out rude!”

  Shelly reaches for the spear but Nikki beats her to the punch. “Sorry babe,” he says with false sympathy. “But I ain’t nobody’s shish kebob!” Nikki kicks the spear across the room.

  Mr. Big barks. Nikki turns and sees the little dog with one of his shoes in its mouth. “Now wait a minute, Rover,” Nikki pleads. “Those are Manolo Blahniks! You don’t know how much those cost…”

  A growl comes from behind Nikki. It’s not Mr. Big. Nikki glances back over his shoulder and sees a wolf in the same spot where he last saw Shelly. A big hairy wolf. With issues.

  “It’s bad enough my man was cheating on me,” the wolf says. “But you could at least be cute.”

  “Well, if you were woman enough to address his needs…” Nikki throws back, hands on hips.

  “What do you know about being a woman?” Shelly growls. “Look at your makeup!”

  “Bitch!” Nikki yells, “I’ll have you know that I am twice the woman your little furry ass could ever be!”

  “What did you call me?” Shelly growls, padding closer.

  The wolf grabs Nikki by the throat. The battle is on. The two fall to the floor, trading blows until Nikki kicks Shelly off him. She skids across the room, right next to Yusef’s spear. She and Nikki both see it at the exact same time.

  “You know you can’t beat me without it,” Nikki taunts. “Punk bitch.”

  Without grabbing the spear, Shelly jum
ps on top of Nikki and clamps her jaws on his wig. Her teeth bite down. Hard. And into Nikki’s skull.

  With one savage twist she completely rips Nikki’s head off. She trots over to the window and tosses the wig-covered head out the window and into the street. On the way down, it bursts into flames. The neighbors don’t know what it is, but one little boy tells his class the next day that he saw fire-works.

  “Good riddance, you ugly, bald-headed bitch,” Shelly says, back in human form. “Those were some nice shoes, though.”

  The Windsor is thick with vampires as Shelly, Pete and Smokey fight their way inside. Both men fire guns with garlic-coated bullets, drawing attention away from Shelly.

  Shelly heads for the stairs. It’s seven flights up but the elevator’s out of service. She has almost reached the entrance to the stairwell when Mace appears before her. He lands between her and the door. He towers above her, an evil blend of both muscle and menace.

  “What’s up, girl?” Mace says. “Where you think you going?”

  He tackles her, pinning her to the ground. Mace laughs. This is too easy. He’s still laughing when a wolf’s claw razors through his neck, sending his head flying across the room.

  That was too easy, thinks Shelly.

  Shelly disappears into the stairwell. Her baby is somewhere up there. She isn’t leaving without him.

  Upstairs, Shelly follows the lead Sylvia gave them. Her intuition tells her that Lou will not have hidden him far. He is too lazy. Sure enough, she finds Ricky in her old apartment, tied hand and foot to a chair, Malika standing over him.

  Ricky’s tired face lights up at the sight of her. But falls again quickly. “Mom! Get out of here. Run! Run!” he yells.

  “No, son,” Shelly says. “No more running.”

  “Aww, how sweet. Has Mommy come to save her baby?” Malika taunts as she opens Ricky’s shirt to expose his neck.

  Behind her, Lou steps out of the shadows. “Hey, baby,” he says to Shelly. “I been thinking about you.”

  “Yeah, right,” Ricky says sarcastically, rolling his eyes in disgust.