Throat

by R. A. Nelson

  I gulped. This was it. It’s really happening. All my nerve endings came alive, giving me the sensation of fingers being dragged over every square inch of my body. I could die, I thought. I could die right now.

  I fought to keep my brain from locking up. Looked stupidly at the ax. Should I climb back up and crank the chain saw?

  No time. The vampire hit the trip wire again. I glanced at the shiny forest below and wanted to jump. Anything would be better than this. But I had to do it, had to take a look.

  I lay against the railing a second time and let my body hang out into space. Stretching my neck, putting my head closer and closer to the corner. Exposing my throat to whatever was on the other side.

  Please …

  All of the air rushed out of my lungs. I could see it now: a long piece of old black pipe was hanging down the north face of the tower. The wind was causing it to sway back and forth, banging against the wire.

  I slumped against the catwalk, swearing. Slid down until I was sitting on the cool steel mesh. Finally I got to my feet again and slowly climbed back to the top. I went to the north side of the tower and used the ax to chop the old pipe loose, watching it fall over the side. I lay down on the mattress again and pulled the tarp over myself. As if I could actually sleep.

  But I did. I woke up several more times during the night, but not because of the trip wires. I don’t know what woke me until the last time, when I was awakened by a dream. I could see the vampire, Wirtz. He had his long arm outstretched toward me. He was holding my sister’s head.

  Crap. It was raining!

  I blinked and jumped up and hauled my things back inside the little room one floor below. The room smelled even mustier in the rain, as if the humidity and the rot were mating.

  I put my sunglasses on and poked my head out—overcast, duh—trying to gauge what time it was. It didn’t feel like I had been asleep long. The slanting gray light over the hills to the east told me it must be barely sunup.

  Now that I was completely awake, no way could I go back to sleep. Not in here. Besides, I didn’t really want to—that was enough scares for one night.

  I wrung out my pajamas as best I could, shivering. This was getting ridiculous. I had to find something better to wear.

  The rain kept falling. Perfect. But then I realized that the dim light would make it harder to see me and fewer people would be out in the weather at this time of day. Time for another “shopping” expedition.

  Fifteen minutes later I was standing behind Madison Square Mall, the closest one I could find. There was one car in the parking lot, a clunker so far away, it might as well have been in the next county.

  I was looking for a particular kind of store. I walked along outside the building, checking the names stenciled on the gray back doors. The Gap? No. Dillard’s? Nah. Parisian? Double nah. Aéropostale? Nope.

  United Outfitters sounded promising, but after I ripped open the door and battled my way through cardboard boxes, empty racks full of clattering hangers, etc., it turned out to be more froofy than the name suggested. I didn’t hear an alarm, but that didn’t mean that one wasn’t going off down at the police station.

  I found a stack of fluffy towels and—thank God—an overstuffed throw pillow. I mopped my dripping hair and jammed everything into a bag. On the way out I also snagged a fancy toiletry kit with hand soap and shampoo.

  I went back outside and raced on to the next store. American Barn. Suncoast Video. Spencer Gifts. Pac Sun. I didn’t strike pay dirt until I came to a place called North Creek.

  This time an alarm definitely sounded, nearly rupturing my eardrums as I moved through the back of the store. Try finding your size with that racket in your ears. No time to try anything on, either. I would just have to do the best I could.

  It felt weird loading up on clothes—Mom had never had the money to be able to take us shopping very often. At the most, it was one top or pair of shorts at a time. But now, thanks to my flourishing criminal enterprise, I was going to be better dressed than I had ever been in my life.

  The clothes were a little too prep for my taste—eat dirt, Gretchen—but I had no right to complain. Nike gym shorts. A silver North Face rain jacket. A couple of Izod pullovers. Puma straight-fit jeans. And for my feet, Adidas socks and a pair of Zugo trail shoes with Velcro flaps.

  I threw aside the rubber gum boots and stuffed my bare feet into the Zugos. Crammed everything else in bags and headed out.

  The back door was still hanging open, with feeble morning light peeking in. I heard the police car before I saw it. Unlucky for them, their radio squawked just as I was about to jump down to the loading dock.

  “Hey, you! Stop where you are!”

  I thought those guys were all supposed to yell “Freeze!” My heart sure did. This wasn’t Mom’s rusty old ride I would be up against if I took off running. Was a vampire bulletproof? I jumped back inside the shop, pulling the door shut. I heard a couple of car doors slam. Then I was off, flying to the front of the store so fast, some of the hanger ensembles were temporarily horizontal. Sweating and cursing, I got both hands on the cold steel fence between me and the rest of the mall and forced the mechanism up two feet. Kicked my bags under, crawled through, and let it shut behind me.

  I could see the two cops now, a male and a female, entering the back of the store, pistols drawn. Which freaked me out more than a little. But they were being way too cautious, ducking behind boxes, dodging around pillars and clothing racks. I was fifty yards away and gathering speed before they even reached the front of the shop.

  All I had to do now was find another way out. A mall is a weird place when it’s empty. Every sound was so magnified. I could hear the cops’ footsteps and the hissing of voices on their walkie-talkies as if they were right on my tail. But I got so far ahead, I felt safe enough to stop and steal food from a vendor. I crammed one of the bags with soft pretzels, cookies, and cheesecake. Oh my God. At this rate I was going to be the world’s first obese vampire. I turned back to look, but the cops had only made it as far as the central fountain. I was surprised to see there were at least five of them now. They slowly fanned out, checking stores in both directions.

  I heard other footsteps as well, farther back. Probably mall security guys. For the first time, I started to feel a little nervous. I knew I could blaze right past one or two, but seven? Nine? I hopped the food vendor counter and raced down a side alley.

  That turned out to be a dead end. I rushed back to the main artery again and went left, hearing the cops getting closer all the time. From the chatter on their walkie-talkies, I knew they were systematically closing off every avenue of escape and pushing their way in my direction.

  At last I came to the end of the line: JCPenney. I tried jerking the double doors open, but the cool metal handles came off in my hands. I threw them down and turned to look for a planter to throw through the glass if I had to. That’s when I saw about eight or ten cops moving methodically in my direction, calling back and forth to each other. They had me trapped and they knew it.

  No guns—I guess they didn’t want to shoot at a perp inside an empty mall—might accidentally damage a storefront, huh? Instead they were each brandishing what I figured had to be Tasers. I had never seen one up close, but they looked like little plastic ray guns with yellow stickers on the side and rectangular barrels.

  “Halt!” one of the male cops yelled. Now that was more like it. “We’ve got all the exits covered! Put the bags down and put your hands above your head.”

  Oh boy, I sure would like to. My loot was slowing me down. Not the weight, just the general awkwardness. I briefly considered dropping the bags and bull-rushing the cops, figuring they would barely see me as I passed by at supersonic speed. But I didn’t want to chance it.

  “Stop!” the same cop said, speaking more angrily now. “I said, put. The. Bags. Down.”

  No, I thought. I had already gone to too much trouble to get this stuff, and I wasn’t giving it up now. The lead cops
were less than a hundred feet away now, moving faster, sensing they had their prey cornered. I had to admit, I was feeling a little frantic, my back to the JCPenney store. It looked as if I was going to have to test my permeability against that glass.…

  Wait.

  I looked up—there was a giant oval of empty space cut into the ceiling about twenty feet over my head. It was surrounded by a railing, adding another four or five feet. So maybe twenty-five feet in all if I wanted to make a clean getaway to the second floor. I took a deep breath—I had never tried a leap like this before, not without a long running start. Bounding through forests and the boughs of trees was one thing.… If I missed … I didn’t want to think about the consequences. Would they Tase an unarmed vampire who was crumpled on the tiled floor?

  Go.

  I gathered my shopping bags in either hand, then took off running straight at the cops, bellowing like a crazy midfielder about to waffle-stomp a keeper. I saw the cops all raise their Tasers in slo-mo—this had better work—and took a long step up to the rim of a low planter wall, pushed off mightily just as they fired, and there I went, soaring right over the ficus.

  I heard at least five separate pops as the Tasers went off, saw four of the little square metal thingies jerk out their length of wire and clatter harmlessly to the floor, while the fifth embedded itself in the toe of my left shoe.

  I was still gaining altitude when I felt the electric charge leap through my leg—it wasn’t really so bad, not as bad as the time I stuck a fork in an outlet when I was Manda’s age. But I could still feel it, that horrible, pulsing sensation of voltage roaming through my insides. Humane is not the word that comes to mind.

  The Taser that had shot me was yanked out of the guy’s hands as I sailed higher and higher, body quaking with the stun force. I could already tell I wasn’t going to make it over. My stomach slammed into the second-floor railing with a tremendous oomph, knocking all the air out of me. My shopping bags tore loose from my hands and hurtled over, riding the inertia of my leap. As I doubled up with the force of the blow, I could see the bags skittering and tumbling ahead of me, clothes and goodies flying everywhere.

  The cops were shouting below, mostly swearing in pure astonishment. I was doing a little cursing of my own as I hoisted myself over the bent railing and flopped onto the floor. I broke out in a cold sweat and could still feel the paralyzing effects of the Taser, but I was quickly coming around. I didn’t have much choice if I wanted to retrieve my stuff and get out of there in one piece.

  I rolled over onto my hands and knees, stomach lurching. I yanked the Taser wire loose and threw it away, scrambling forward like a crab, and started furiously collecting my things. I say furiously because there was beautiful New York cheesecake splattered across the tiles.

  I managed to salvage most of my stuff, moving sluggishly, then staggered away on unsteady legs. At least I wasn’t lying on the floor wiggling in a spasmodic electricity dance.

  In seconds I was really motoring again, though I still didn’t have much of an escape plan. If the place had been jammed with people, I could’ve possibly blended in—sure I would, wearing shades, pajamas, and trail shoes—but the mall wouldn’t be officially open for at least a couple of hours.

  A second group of cops and security types were already scouring this floor as well; I could hear their walkie-talkies and the clicking of their shoes running toward me. Jeez, how many guys did they need for one seventeen-year-old girl? I felt cornered and let out a snarl.

  Listen to yourself, Emma, I thought. You’re the bad guy, not them. They were just doing their jobs.

  I didn’t want to hurt these guys, but I just might if they Tased me again. I looked around desperately for an exit, someplace to hide. Then I saw it: an enormous domed skylight above my head. The kind with the candy-colored glass. There.

  I shoved my sunglasses into my pocket, looped the bags over my arms, and sprinted for it. Just when I was beneath the skylight, I coiled my legs and sprang, closing my eyes and hunching my back against the impact. I blasted through the glass—the frame was made of tougher stuff than I had expected—and flew like a mini-missile out into the open air.

  I landed hard on the wet, pebbly roof. I was breathing raggedly—the Taser had taken more out of me than I had realized. Even in the rainy light I was blinded. I stood, stretching my back, whipped out my shades, and put them back on. I glanced around. The skylight now had a jagged hole the size of a merry-go-round. I could hear more curses rising through the opening.

  Time to scoot. I gathered my bags and sprinted to the nearest wall at a dead run. I peeked over and saw a handful of police cars and two little trucks that said MALL SECURITY, but they were pulled up closer to the far end and appeared to be empty.

  No time for ladders—I leapt over the edge and fell the whole three stories, landing on my backside with a big whoomping thump in an open Dumpster, pieces of shirt boxes and colored tissue paper shoomping up around me. Thank goodness it wasn’t the one close to the food court. I kicked the door open and aimed myself for the Space Center as fast as I could go.

  By the time I got back to the base, the rain had stopped and the sun blazed through, making everything steamy. I carried my load up and rested awhile in the little tower room, munching on mall fare and gleefully checking out my haul.

  Then I thought of what Papi would think of me and felt an acrid twang of guilt. Burglary. Property damage. Resisting arrest. What next? Assault? I was rapidly becoming the kind of person he would want to see put under the jail. I vowed to do a better job of curbing my impulses, something I hadn’t had too much success with in the past. I remembered how I had felt when I lifted that refrigerator in broad daylight. Untouchable, arrogant. Maybe that was all part of the vampire transformation, but it only magnified my worst flaws.

  Life without rules was more complicated than I thought.

  I spent the rest of the day working around the tower, streamlining things and improving my defenses, while waiting for the NASA employees to leave. After the adrenaline rush of the chase, I felt jangly and overstimulated. No wonder; I was stuffing my face with nothing but Fudgey Nut, soft pretzels, and chocolate chip cookies the size of Frisbees.

  I was aching to try on my new things, but I was completely filthy. When I saw the last of the government workers pouring off the base, I picked out clothes, cleaning supplies, and a sinfully thick burgundy towel and hurried down to the bunker. After days in pajamas, I was almost goofy with anticipation. Twenty minutes later, spanking clean and dressed in jeans and a frothy orange top, I couldn’t believe how much better I felt. But somehow it still wasn’t enough. Something was missing.

  “Go away,” Sagan said.

  I felt hurt. Here I was all freshly scrubbed in my brand-new North Creek preppy togs, and he was refusing to let me in.

  “Oh, come on,” I said, looking at him through the glass, making my eyes as sorrowful as possible. “Or I’ll huff, and I’ll puff, and I’ll …” I couldn’t believe it. I was actually flirting.

  “I mean it,” Sagan said for at least the third time. He was standing on the other side of the air lock doors—just beyond my reach, because of the bar code reader—and speaking to me through a little wall-mounted intercom. He gestured at the white phone hanging next to the door. “I’ll call security. They’ll be here in ten minutes.”

  “What’s your problem?” I said into the speaker box.

  “You.”

  “What’d I do?”

  “Just please go away.”

  Okay, I was going to have to do it.… I’d never been very good at pointing the finger of blame at myself when somebody else was handy. But—in spite of the empty calories I had inhaled—I was half starved. And besides … I just wanted to see him again.

  I rapped on the glass pleadingly. “Come on, Sagan. I’m sorry I ducked out on you. I had a great time last night. The best night in practically—forever.”

  “No.”

  “It’s me, okay? Sometimes I do
things without thinking. That’s part of the package. I know I should have hung around and said goodbye. Come on. Give me another chance.”

  He seemed to sag a little. He was wearing shorts again and a faded blue polo shirt with none of the buttons buttoned. And this time he had glasses. Thin little wire-rimmed specs. I loved the way he looked in them … like a sexy lab guy. He was leaning with his forearm pressed against the glass, making the long muscle below his elbow spread out into a powerful oval. He looked strong, like he could pick me up and run.…

  He thumbed the speaker button. “Whatever.”

  Ouch. Guess I deserved that.

  He took his finger off the intercom and turned on his heels and walked into the cafeteria.

  I looked behind me into the forest. The sun would be going down soon, and I wasn’t too cool with the idea of going back to the creepy spider nest I called home. Besides, I had never been the type to give up easy.

  Five minutes later I was descending the little ladder that led down from the roof and negotiating the maze of hallways back to the cafeteria.

  Sagan was sitting at one of the tables. He had a thick paperback book held open with one hand while he stirred a spoon around in a little bowl of microwave chili with the other. I could see steam rising from the bowl, and it made my mouth water. He must’ve heard me, because he looked up.

  “Okay,” he said. He almost didn’t seem surprised. He took his glasses off and leaned around a pillar to look at the locked door. “So how’d you get in here?”

  “The same way I did last time,” I said, sitting down next to him.

  “Which was?”

  “Through the roof.”

  Sagan looked up as if he expected to find a hole in the ceiling. “I can still call security, you know.”

  Not after I beat you to that phone and rip it out by the roots, I thought. I resisted the impulse.

  “But you won’t,” I said.

  “You don’t think so?”