The Glass Vampire

by David Page

  "Who is we?"

  "Vincent Radovan."

  "You are part of his organization?"

  The mention of the leader of the latest Vampire Rights movement gave him the strength to anchor him firmly in the present. He had heard of the elusive man and his quest to set the vampires free. Radovan had become a well-known presence on the Internet, in chat rooms and on bulletin boards trying to gain support for vampire rights. Richard was sure that Vincent Radovan was a pseudonym, and had dedicated a good amount of thought to the man’s identity. With the limited resources of a vampire, however, he doubted he could ever find out.

  She nodded.

  "He sent me to Big River to make contact with you." She looked at her watch and frowned. "Look, we don't have much time. We can help you Richard, but I need you to trust us, to trust me."

  “I see no reason to believe you over any other human being. If nearly a thousand years of life has taught me anything, it is that humans cannot be trusted. Regardless of the good press your Mr. Radovan has been getting, I’m afraid I can’t help you."

  Beth chewed her lip thoughtfully and finally reached back to pull a manila folder off her desk. She opened it, revealing what looked like a personnel file. At the top, he saw his name and the Department logo. His throat tightened and he quickly looked back and forth, desperate for a second exit, but knowing that when the officers showed up there was no possible escape. If they wanted to, they could always detonate the explosive in his bracelet and kill him that way.

  She held up one hand as if to reassure him. "Chill, Richard. You look like a cornered rat. I stole the file. I'm not working for the Department."

  So, she could read him, though he doubted it was hard under the circumstances.

  "Then let us suppose I believe you. What then?" He was not sure anyone could steal a Department file unless the Department wanted them to do so.

  "We've only got a few minutes before the agents wonder why they can't read the signal from your tracking bracelet.” She glanced nervously at her door. “I can give you a few details now and we can meet in a more secure location later."

  "Very well, but I should at least look like I'm helping you." He got to his feet drew closer to her and hit CONTROL-ALT-DELETE on her keyboard causing the machine to reboot.

  "Good idea." She turned towards the monitor. "I'll be blunt. You’re the oldest vampire in Seattle."

  Richard shrugged. "A fairly well known fact and completely irrelevant now that I've been reduced to a mere shadow of my former self."

  "True.” A pen appeared in her hands. She tapped it on the desk. “But what most people don't know is that when the Department finally caught up with you in Boston ten years ago, they only seized several hundred million dollars of your assets."

  Richard's throat tightened as he remembered those final days, hiding out in a Mausoleum in a seventeenth-century graveyard. His mind-numbing hunger and the void that had taken up residence in his soul had nearly finished him even before the agents had finally taken him.

  "I’m sorry.” She dropped the pen to the desk. “I didn't mean to…"

  "Just get to the point." The events of that day had only destroyed his life, after all.

  Beth clasped her hands and tapped her thumbs against each other. "All right. Vincent Radovan has a makeshift lab where his team is working on finding a cure for the vampire virus that has left you powerless. We need vampire blood and a test subject."

  “You want a guinea pig." Richard curled his lip in a sneer. Humans in a secret lab had created the virus in the first place.

  "Sort of." Beth offered him a tentative smile that made her quite attractive.

  "Why would any humans wish to help us? Are you not safer with us in this condition?”

  “A lot of people believe that.” She tilted her chin in what Richard took to be defiance. “But we know the truth.”

  “And what is this truth you speak of?” The truth is, I will be a danger to humans if ever I reclaim what I have lost, Richard thought, dreaming of retribution.

  “Vampires are simply humans with a very unusual disease.” Beth did not look away as her computer beeped.

  “A disease can drive a man mad. Take rabies for example.” Richard ignored the computer as well.

  Her features softened. “But your particular disease does not make you evil, at least not any longer. Once medical science was able to synthesize human blood, you no longer had the need to victimize the innocent.”

  “But you are forgetting one thing,” Richard countered. “We all chose to become vampires. For most of us, that decision came with the knowledge that we would have to take the blood of others, perhaps even kill to survive.”

  “True.” She paused and slightest hint of a frown appeared at the corners of her mouth. “But my research tells me that many vampires only took the blood they needed, never draining anyone to the danger point. When they finished this process, they blanketed the minds of their donors so they remembered nothing. I think you were one of those vampires. Am I right?"

  Richard narrowed his eyes. She seemed to know him a little too well for his liking. He wondered just how much information could possibly be included in his file.

  "You are correct. However, I have killed to survive." He smiled, allowing his fangs to come out for an instant. Even after he had been stripped of his preternatural abilities, he had been responsible for the deaths of several agents.

  "That was a long time ago, Richard.” Beth did not even flinch. “This is the twenty-first century, and I believe that you and many of your brethren deserve to be welcomed back into society, not shunned and treated like third-class citizens. Our government has treated you poorly. Many of you are American citizens, some could even be considered among the founding fathers of this country. What we have done to you is inhuman!” She slammed her fist on the desk in emphasis.

  "Your patriotism is impressive.” Richard leaned back and put his hands behind his head. Her performance was masterful, her passion admirable, if a little forced, but there was more to it than that. There always was. “You don't expect me to believe that is why you would help me, do you?"

  "No. I don't, not completely, anyhow." She sighed.

  "Wouldn't it make more sense to simply work through legitimate channels to convince your fellow humans to grant us the full array of rights that all Americans enjoy?" He asked, hoping to catch her in an inconsistency.

  "Do you really think the Department would go for that?”

  She was correct. The Department would never allow Congress to enact any legislation to truly set him and the other vampires free. They would blackmail, bully and do whatever it took to prevent that, despite public outcry. Richard sighed. The only way he could hope to ever regain his freedom would be to do as she suggested, seek the aid of an underground organization.

  "Let us say, for the moment, I believe you. Why me? There are plenty of other vampires in town, vampires who are not so scrutinized and who are nearly as old."

  "Because you are clever. You had a dozen hiding places, stashes of currency and supplies that allowed you to evade the Department's bulldogs for nearly a year after you lost your powers. Who better than to help our scientists find a cure." She looked up at him.

  So, that was it. "Bravo.” He laughed. “A for effort."

  "What do you mean?" Beth pressed back into her chair as if startled by his behavior.

  "You think I have more money hidden away and you want to use it to fund whatever experiments you are performing."

  Beth’s face turned beat red. She was not very good at this, Richard decided, a fact that he found somewhat endearing and made him more inclined to trust her.

  "It's true, we need money.” She shifted uncomfortably in the chair. “It's also true that we can help you. We’re close to beating their virus."

  "Sorry, but they did indeed take all of my wealth." Richard wanted to believe her, just as he had wanted to believe the other two activists that had approached him in the past. Of cours
e, they had been much less refined. Eventually, both had been arrested. He shivered. Each of those events had cost him a month in the stockade under the brutal care of Frederick Cortez.

  "If I had managed to hang onto even a small portion of my wealth, I would certainly not donate it to an erroneous group that either wants to take the money and run or use it to pay off their college loans."

  Beth was at his side in an instant, moving with surprising speed for a human. She grabbed his shirtsleeve and yanked him around. She was not as frail as she appeared. He felt tension and strength in her arm.

  "I am telling the truth, Richard,” she insisted. “We can help you."

  He met her gaze for just a moment. The deep pools of her blue eyes offered no hint of malice or foul intent. Still, he could not afford to take another chance. Frederick had made it clear that he had used up all of his karma.

  "I wish I could believe you." He opened her door and stopped short.

  Stan stood a dozen or so feet away from them, leaning against the wall by the elevator. His bulky form took up half of the large hallway. "Ray sent me down to check on you." He ran a hand through his greasy hair.

  Richard tilted his head to the side. He did not trust Stan any more than he trusted the others. Perhaps Ray had sent him down, perhaps he was taking orders from someone else, but regardless, the course of action was the same for either case. Act natural.

  "Don't hesitate to call us again, Beth." He waved to her then headed towards Stan.

  "Thank you, Richard. For all your help." The lack of sarcasm in her voice surprised him, but he continued forward without looking back.

  Richard continued over to where Stan watched and slapped him on the back.

  "Thank-you for looking out for me, Stan, but everything is under control. Shall we return to the cubicle farm?"

  Stan shifted away from his hand. "Yeah, okay." He pushed the lift button four times fast.

  When the car opened a moment later, Richard allowed himself a smile. Whatever game they were playing, it would not work. They stepped into the car and as the doors closed, he wondered about the memory of the woman in the red dress and why it had surfaced now after all this time. Perhaps there was more to Beth than met the eye.

  5

  Richard stared blankly at his gray cubicle wall. His encounter with Beth had left him confused. It was clear she believed what she had told him, yet he knew that it could not be true. An operation as big as what would be needed to develop a cure for the Department’s virus could never go unnoticed by the authorities. It was possible that the Department was allowing dissidents to organize only so that they could get them all in one place for a mass arrest.

  The red numbers on his digital clock caught his attention. Two-fourteen AM; only five hours left. Ten years ago, he would have been roaming the streets, searching for a blood donor at this hour. Even now, after all that had happened, his face flushed at the memories of taking what was not freely offered. He had convinced himself that it had been necessity that drove him, and that was true to some degree. In that distant past, bottled blood had been able to sustain him for a time, but ultimately, he had been forced to return to the source.

  His computer beeped and a small message appeared in the center of his screen informing him that he had just received an email. He opened his mail software and discovered a new message from Beth. His throat tightened slightly.

  The message read: Thank you for the encouragement.

  "What the hell does that mean?" he mumbled under his breath. He looked at the glass knight next to his monitor as if the small figure could provide him with the answers. It did not respond.

  He hit the reply button bringing up an empty message window, but he did not type anything. He needed to find a way to tell her to leave him alone without actually saying it. There was no doubt in his mind that someone from the government scanned his emails at least daily. He clicked the “x” on the small window, closing it without sending. There was no reason to say anything to her. His silence would be answer enough.

  ***

  “Hold the door!" Richard recognized Ray’s voice.

  He hit the "Open" button and held it as Ray darted through the doors.

  "Thanks for waiting." The doors slid shut and the car began to move.

  "It was no problem."

  They stood in silence for a moment, facing the shiny silver doors. Only Ray cast a reflection in the metal, though he did not seem to notice. Richard thought it interesting that even the metal failed to catch him.

  "Nice job handling Beth." Ray broke the silence first.

  "Thanks." Richard reached up reflexively to tip his hat, and then remembered that he no longer owned one. They had taken even that from him. He frowned.

  “Something wrong?” Ray’s tone sounded genuinely concerned.

  “No, everything is fine.” Richard shook his head in emphasis.

  "Where are you headed?"

  "To the sleeping tubes in the basement. The sun has not yet risen, but it will be here within the hour. I do not I have enough time to reach my apartment before the sleep of the dead overtakes me.” It felt good to have a real conversation for once.

  "That undead thing has really got to suck," Ray hypothesized.

  "After a thousand years, I'm fairly well adjusted to the idea."

  "That makes sense. Anyhow, I was thinking of heading over to the Pancake House for some breakfast.” Ray smiled disarmingly. “Care to join?"

  Richard had barely forty-five minutes before the sunrise. That was not a lot of time and was certainly a good excuse for declining Ray’s invitation, but it has been a very long time since anyone had asked him to do anything. And the offer did sound better than going to the tubes. He shivered. It was one thing to sleep in a coffin in his own home, but the tubes just reminded him of a cabinet of morgue drawers.

  "I would be happy to."

  ***

  A cloud of gaseous cooking oil hovered a few feet over the dining room. The rank smell of frying bacon assailed his nostrils causing his nose to twitch. He was thankful that he did not have his normal vampire sense of smell. The place was a dive, but despite that, he found something about the way people crowded together in their small booths, sharing each other's company, appealing.

  Ray had led the way to a table near the emergency exit in the rear corner of the place, a fact for which Richard was happy. He did not like being in the center of a crowd and it was always wise to be near an exit should anything untoward occur.

  After a moment, Ray dropped his stained menu to the table then stirred a fifth sugar packet into his coffee and took a sip. He smacked his lips and smiled.

  "At any other time, I'd probably have to admit that this coffee is shit, but after a graveyard shift, it tastes like nectar of the gods."

  "I quite understand." Richard found his mirth contagious and allowed himself a smile. He pointed to the blood box in front of him. "Their platelet packs taste like they drew the blood of a homeless drunk, but I'd have to agree that it does indeed hit the proverbial spot this morning."

  A cloud passed over Ray’s face as he glanced at Richard’s blood packet.

  "Is something wrong?" Richard covered the packet with one hand as if he could hide it.

  "Sorry,” Ray shook himself. “I'm just not used to people drinking blood."

  "Understandable." Richard expected such a reaction. He leaned back against the booth's vinyl cushion.

  Ray glanced down at the back of his menu then looked at him and laughed. "You know what you're going to order?"

  For once, Richard did not feel like he was being mocked, rather that his merry supervisor was simply making another joke. He surely knew that, for vampires, the menu was very limited. "I thought I'd have some type O with an AB chaser."

  "Right. Good choice. Assuming that the waitress ever gets here."

  Richard looked over Ray's shoulder to the center of the room where the short, squat waitress moved back and forth between the five other tables she
was apparently responsible for. The place was quite busy, even at five A.M, with clientele ranging from the old to the young, from businessmen and women to college kids. Richard was the only vampire, however. Most people could not distinguish a vampire from anyone else, at least without seeing their tracking bracelets, but even now, vampires could pick their own kind out of a crowd.

  "Hey, Richard, you still with me?" Ray's voice shook him.

  He forced a smile. "Forgive me, I was lost in thought."

  "Yeah, I noticed.” Ray leaned forward placing his elbows on the table between the small pyramid of creamer containers he had just completed and a bowl filled with jam packets. “Do you mind if I ask you something?"

  “Not at all.” Richard groaned inwardly. It was never good when a human asked him that question. He did his best to keep his expression neutral. The next question was always something about how he had become a vampire.

  “Why do you put up with Stan and Bob?"

  " I realize, through experience, that they are uncomfortable around me; most people are. If it helps them to deal with their fears, I can tolerate their abuse." There was no way Ray or any other human could understand what vampires had been through over the past decade, no way Richard could make him see how dangerous it was for him to stand up for himself.

  “Well, you're a better man than me.” Ray disassembled his pyramid and started building a creamer smiley face. “I'd be kicking some ass by now. It only takes a few bloody noses to get some respect."

  "Spoken like a true New Yorker," Richard noted. Ray's approach might work under certain circumstances, specifically when humans dealt with other humans, but it would not help Richard. He realized that his fists were clenched. He opened them slowly.

  "Hey, I am what I am." He held his palms up.

  Richard paused, unsure of what to say next. It had been quite a while since he had socialized with humans. He did not wish to discuss work related topics and feared that anything else he might say would remind Ray just who and what he was having breakfast with. He had to say something, however, lest Ray think that he did not want to be there.