Bullets Will Work
(Previously: Lost&Found)
Version 1.02
By Geoffrey C Porter
Cover Art by Jeffrey Kosh
Version 1.02
An Untied Shoelaces of the Mind Production
ISBN-13:
978-1542963855
ISBN-10:
1542963850
All rights reserved. Copyright 2014 by Geoffrey C Porter.
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Dedicated to all the wargamers out there who enjoy my games. Let them divide and conquer in their dreams.
Chapter 1
They say the apocalypse is at hand. They say the infection is a sign of the world coming to an end. To me, it has been a slow creeping progress of events. Things started when I was in juvenile hall for manslaughter, and I didn't think much of it. I killed another boy in a fight when I was 15; a simple accident.
I meant to break his nose, and bone shards splattered his brains. Should have been self-defense, but that isn't the kind of luck I have. I did have the luck of living in a state where they could only keep you until you were 18. There wasn't much to do in juvenile hall except study, sleep, and watch TV, and I've never enjoyed TV or sleep much.
The first news reports of bodies being found started to escalate ever so slowly when I was 17. It didn't matter to me; like I said, I didn't think much of it. I was far more worried about college and my future. Then one day my life and my world became part of that news.
I met Emily in my first year of college. I stood waiting in line at the cafeteria when she said, "Hi."
I turned and looked. Her beauty confronted me for a moment. She had straight, but kind of fluffy brown shoulder length hair and round cheekbones holding up green eyes. She bore a stupid toothy grin of full straight teeth and luscious red lips. I said, "Hi."
She nudged me with her elbow. "You're kind of cute. We could go out sometime."
I didn't have anything to say. The fight I'd been in when I had killed a boy was over a girl, and I'd never been very understanding when it came to the female species.
Her smile turned to a frown. "That's if you're not seeing anyone..."
I blurted out, "No."
She blinked her eyes, and her smile perked up a little bit.
"I mean, I'm not seeing anyone," I said.
She extended her hand. "My name's Emily."
I shook her hand.
She didn't say anything while the line for the food inched forward. She nudged me again with her elbow. "Your name is?"
"Sidney."
"Are you from Australia?"
"No."
"What's your last name, Sid?"
Nobody called me Sid. She said it with a smile and a hint of things to come. I said, "Daniels. Sidney Daniels."
She leaned in towards me and planted a kiss on my lips. I've never been hit by a jolt of electricity before, but that first kiss lit my insides up like a live wire. She broke it off. I just grinned for a moment and then tried to move in to kiss her again. She turned her face away from me and whispered, "Later."
We sat together and ate. I made sure not to spill any food on myself. She was an eater and not a talker. As we put our trays away, she asked, "Do you have class?"
I said, "Not for two hours."
Emily smiled. "I could show you my dorm room!"
"OK."
She reached out to hold my hand on the way to her room, and my stupid palm started to sweat ever so viciously.
Once inside, she turned to me. "You're very cute. My last boyfriend was cute. He cheated on me."
I nodded.
She stared at me for a moment. "Are you going to cheat on me?"
"No. I promise."
She moved towards me until our bodies were pressed together. She whispered, "I'm on the pill."
"The what?"
"It's so I won't get pregnant. So we can have sex."
I stuttered, "Se-se-sex?"
She leaned into me with her perky breasts and kissed me on the lips. We stripped out of our clothes and went at it like animals. She made sure I was dressed and ready for class.
My life turned into a blissful dream of sorts. We weren't able to have sex all the time. I lived at home with my parents, and Emily's dorm was off-limits to boys after hours. Still, we spent every day together, we studied together, and we ate together. She showed me things I had never even imagined. After three months, I proposed to her. She said, "Yes," ever so quietly that I barely heard her. Then she said we had to wait until we graduated. Three years to wait, but I am a patient man.
* * *
I was thirteen when they first tried to diagnose my brain. I simply stopped sleeping, and when I didn't sleep for long enough, I started to hallucinate. The doctors tried a plethora of different medicines with outrageous side effects. It took them a year of experimenting on me before trying a simple little drug called Lithium.
The first few psychologists to analyze me told my parents that I had the mind of a murdering psychopath. My mom and dad simply nodded on hearing the news. My dad was a killer for the military, and my mom was a killer for the software industry. They took the news in stride.
When I got out of juvenile hall at 18, my parents insisted I take up Martial Arts. My dad was very adamant about the matter. He said, "Sidney, you're going to get in another fight. You're going to accidentally kill somebody again, and this time it'll be life in prison. You won't get a second chance like you got as a juvenile. You'll train, and you'll train hard. Next time you get in a fight, I want you to be able to control the situation and not hurt your opponent."
I said, "I'm not going to get in another fight."
"Listen to your father," Mom said. "He's right. You're living with us, and we're going to put you through college. You'll follow our rules."
I found in time that I enjoyed the Martial Arts. I made a few friends in class which was nice, and I impressed my instructors. Practicing became ritualistic for me and quieted my mind in a more peaceful way than the Lithium. Not that I quit taking the Lithium. I took it every day like religion.
Emily and I graduated together, and on a bright June morning, we married in a big Catholic church. We'd discussed kids, and she wanted to try her hand at the corporate world before being a mom. I didn't argue. I never argued with Emily. She was the perfect woman although she was the jealous type. I wasn't allowed to have female friends at all: not even as a lab partner. She would say, "You're not allowed to see her."
"But we're just friends; she's in my chemistry class. She needed notes from Monday's lecture."
"She can get her class notes from somebody else. I don't want you talking to her."
I said, "OK."
We had that conversation at least a dozen times. I got in trouble if she caught me even looking at another girl. This was fine by me. I had everything I needed in Emily.
We both finished school with good grades, and top companies recruited us right away on graduation. We found an old house, and Emily fell in love with the woodwork and tall ceilings. It wasn't in the best neighborhood, but it was priced to sell. My dad bought me a Colt .45 as a housewarming present and promised to teach me how to shoot it. He explained simply, "If somebody breaks into your house, kill them. Don't fight them. Call 911. But get to the gun and load it and kill them. Perfectly legal."
I smiled and thanked him. I prayed never to be in that situation, but I'd rather be armed than not. We went to the range that very weekend and tried out the Colt. It fired like a dream. I got good with it--I felt comfortable going for a head shot at 25 yards.
The worl
d seemed to be going to shit. The infection was spreading according to the news. Bodies drained of blood were found in cities all across the globe. More and more countries were sliding into internal conflict, and the spread of vampirism didn't help.
Still, I didn't think it concerned me, for no bodies had ever been found in the small town I called home. I had my career, a mortgage, and Emily's student loans. I pushed myself in my career. I knew we'd be a one income family once Emily decided it was time to have kids, so I climbed the corporate ladder.
When they found the first desiccated body in my hometown, I shrugged it off. Then the disappearances started, and more and more bodies showed up on the news. I figured the police could deal with it. It was none of my business.
Then came that fateful day, August 9th, when I arrived home from a long day at the office, and the front door to my house was ajar. I flew into a rage and raced inside. Emily lay in a pool of her own blood. I fell to my knees at her side and grabbed her up. She was pale and cold, but she still breathed in shallow breaths. She opened her eyes and stared at me. She whispered, "Kiss me one last time..."
I kissed her with all my love and hope. Then she started twitching, and she stopped moving. I lay down her corpse, and tears started to streak down my cheeks. I looked around. Her attacker was nowhere to be found. I raced through the house looking. I locked and loaded. Once I knew the house stood empty, I called 911.
* * *
They let me out of juvenile hall in the afternoon. My parents picked me up. They sat me down at the kitchen table. My dad said, "We're having steak for dinner. How do you want yours cooked? Do you still like pepper?"
"I like pepper," I said. "I'm not sure what you mean about cooking it, though."
"He means how well done do you want it?" Mom said. "I like mine medium well, and your father eats his that way just because I do. We'll make them however you like."
"I don't know."
"I'll cut yours in half and cook half medium rare and half medium well," Dad said with a wide carnivore kind of grin. "That way I can have mine medium rare too."
I nodded.
My dad went into the kitchen, and my mom said, "It's so nice to have you home."
"Thanks, mom."
"I got you a computer. I hope you like it. It's a multi-core gaming machine. I got you a box of games, too. I told some of my friends you were getting out, and they agreed to get you into some alpha testing programs. Some of the games in your room aren't available to the public yet. You'll have to register online to install them. We've got wireless in the house, and you'll have to set that up first.
"Some of the games are for adults, but you're 18 you can play any game you want. Being an alpha tester is a big responsibly. They want ideas and bug reports from you. I told them you'd never played a computer game, and they were thrilled, 'fresh meat' they all said."
I have never owned a computer, let alone set up anything wireless. "Computer?"
"You have my genes, and you can figure it out. The wires all plug in only one way, and there are symbols for everything. The computer will have quick start documentation. You'll be able to figure it out."
The idea of being a game tester had never occurred to me. I was dumbstruck. My dad walked back through the dining room towards the outside carrying a plate piled high with thick cut steaks coated with a layer of pepper. My mom said, "What do you think?"
"Sounds cool, I guess."
The steak tasted better than anything I tasted in as long as I could remember. I took turns taking bites of the medium rare and the medium well. I couldn't decide which I preferred. The medium rare was a little soft but tasted better. The medium well was firmer and had more of a burned taste that I liked. I couldn't finish either half.
My dad wouldn't have it. He said, "Finish that steak, Sidney. You're thin as a rail, and we can't have that. There's some exercise equipment in the basement. Regular exercise is key to a healthy mind and body."
I finished the steak. I felt like a beached whale.
"We have a few errands to run tomorrow," Dad said. "We'll open up a bank account for you, so you'll have a Visa card for emergencies. Your Uncle Jim wants to see you, too."
I patted my stomach and blinked my eyes as the food worked its way into my blood stream.
"Go set up your computer," Mom said. "Plug everything into the power strip first, and when you think you've got everything hooked up plug the power strip in. Just don't force any cables into any connectors, and you won't hurt anything. The operating system is from Microsoft, and it's simple as can be. Don't get discouraged. If you haven't gotten everything working in a couple of hours, give me a holler, and I'll help."
Setting up the computer turned out to be simple. It worked out just how my mom said it would. I became absorbed in the games. At eleven o'clock, my dad poked his head into my room and said, "You should call it a night."
I shut down the computer. My bed was more comfortable than I remembered, and I drifted off to sleep with a wide grin on my face. The next day my dad put a thousand dollars into a checking account for me, and the bank promised to mail me a Visa debit card. We made our way to my uncle Jim's house.
My dad and I played pool in Jim's basement while Jim fixed us some lunch. I expected ham sandwiches or something similar, but I was starved. We skipped breakfast for some reason that morning. Jim hollered at us, and we went upstairs. I smelled the weirdest smell I'd ever smelled and started to drool. I asked, "What are we having?"
Jim's eyebrows bounced up and down at least four times. "I made stir fry. It's an old family recipe, but your mother won't touch the stuff. It's too spicy for her."
I didn't know what to expect. You didn't get spicy food in juvenile hall, unless they'd made a mistake in the kitchen. I sat down, and Jim brought out a big steaming bowl of everything I could imagine. Pieces of chicken, peanuts, pineapple, snow peas, and mushrooms, just to name a few of the oddities.
My dad spooned a big helping onto my plate and his. I could smell it, and my nostrils burned. I took a bite of the chicken, and it was hot. Not too hot, but hot enough that I knew there was something hot in it. It had a sweet taste to it. When Jim returned with soda for us and a big bowl of rice, I asked, "What's in this?"
Jim just smiled. "Have some more. It gets hotter the more you eat."
I twitched just a tiny bit and dove right in. When it seemed like my mouth was on fire, I just had to know. "What's in it?"
"Freshly sliced ginger, seared red cayenne pepper, and low sodium soy sauce."
"It's delicious. I love it."
"It's called Kung Pao, but good luck finding it this tasty in a restaurant. You've had it before," Dad said. "Seems the restaurants don't want to make spicy Chinese food anymore. Now, when I was a kid there were a few restaurants in town that competed, and you could ask for it spicy.
"Some of them would burn you it was so good. But these days you have to make your own Kung Pao. Your mother won't let me make it."
I said, "I don't remember."
"I think you were 12 the last time Jim made it. They said the Lithium might affect your memory."
I went about eating in earnest. Once I felt like a beached whale for the second time in two days, I leaned back in my chair and grinned. Jim reached in his pocket. He withdrew a key and set it on the table next to me. He said, "Did you see that blue truck in the driveway? Go start her up. See if she fits you. Try the radio."
I said, "Huh?"
"She's got a v-8, so she gets horrible gas mileage, but she's only got 40,000 miles on her. I've taken good care of her. Go start her up."
"I don't know how..."
"She's a stick shift. The leftmost pedal is the clutch. Push it all the way to the floor, and then turn the key."
"Huh?"
He shrugged and rolled his eyes in a great circle. "Come on. I'll go out with you. Ben, can you clear the dishes?"
My dad said, "Sure."
We made it to the truck, and she purred to life. Jim asked, "Comforta
ble? You'll need a car to get to school and work."
I looked at him with wide eyes.
"I stopped by the DMV and picked up a driver's manual for you. It's in the glovebox. Memorize it. Then you have to take a written test to get your temps. Then you can take a driving test to get your license," Jim said.
I opened the glovebox and withdrew the book. My hands were shaking.
Jim pulled a card out of his breast pocket. "Here, take this. It's the name of a temp agency, and it's the only way to get hired on at my construction company. Once you've got your license, go there, and ask for Limbird Construction. You're white, and you got looks. They'll try and put you in an office. Ask for Limbird Construction by name... Say it!"
I said, "Limbird Construction."
"Good, they'll work you good. Is the truck ok?"
"Yeah, the truck is fine."
"Get your license, and I'll sign the title over to you."
"Sign the what over to me?"
"The title, Sidney. When you own a car, you own a title to the car. It's like the deed to property. It is a deed to property--they just call them titles."
"Huh?"
Jim smiled. "The truck, Sidney, it's yours if you like it."
I had to bat my eyes open and closed to fight back the tears. "I love it. Thank you."
"What are uncles for? We're family, Sidney, and you're finally out. That's all that matters. I expect to see you at the job site in a few weeks."
"I'll be there."
I played games for a while and took my driving tests. I went down to the temp agency and asked for Limbird Construction. The woman tilted her head to the side. "Wouldn't you rather be doing data entry or something in a comfortable office? Limbird Construction is manual labor."
I said, "Limbird Construction."
The woman shook her head. "When you change your mind, there are other options for you."
"OK."
She had me fill out paperwork. She gave me directions to the job site and told me to show up at 7:30 AM. I showed up promptly on time. A man wearing a hard hat and tool belt saw me and walked up to me. He said, "I'm the foreman. The temp agency send you?"
Bullets Will Work: A Vampire Slayer Novel Page 1