The Vampire Club

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The Vampire Club Page 6

by Scott Nicholson


  “No kidding. Anchovy omelets, onion rings, pickled pineapple hearts, and bacon. Lots and lots of bacon.”

  “It must have been a special occasion for them to get up so early.”

  “Who the hell knows? I just make breakfast for them, for I am breakfast, hear—”

  “—me roar,” I chimed in. “Did you happen to, er, um, overhear anything while the family was eating?”

  She looked at me fiercely and for a moment I thought I had overstepped the boundaries of casual conversation, but then she said, “Something about plans gone awry, and have to rethink things, and how come bacon is better than sausage.”

  She was the cook, but I was the one cooking up a diabolical plan to trick information out of her. “This might be an odd question...what’s your name?”

  “Becky Fast.”

  “Mine’s Andy Barthamoo. Of the Vampire Club.” I wanted to see if that would get any reaction.

  “All the others are named Toen. Are you not a relative?”

  I blushed, aware of my pale and distinct lack of musculature compared to these bronzed athletes, and said, “Gee, thanks. Anyway, I was wondering if all these people always live in this one mansion. I mean, it’s a big house, and no doubt all can live here quite comfortably, but it just seems odd that so many relatives live under one roof.”

  “Did you say ‘relatives’?”

  “Yes, Ms. Fast.”

  “Please, just Becky. They’re no family, that’s for sure.”

  I blinked. “They’re not related?”

  “That’s for sure.”

  Once again, I shouldn’t have been surprised, but I was. They sure looked alike, but it meant Becky was lying. Or else Dial.

  I knew where my bet was placed.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Becky, can you, uh, hold on a second. I forgot that I needed to wake my friends now.”

  But what I really meant was: don’t spill all your guts until the others can hear. But I knew she didn’t guess my hidden meaning when she asked: “Should I make more eggs?”

  “Yes, enough to feed four others. Well, five, because Buddy can really pack it away. And his dream was probably exhausting.”

  And as I exited the cavern-like kitchen, I heard her open the fridge and begin clambering up the face of it, using the ladder instead of the lift. Maybe that’s how she stayed in such good shape.

  I pounded my way through the maze in a hurry to have the others listen to Becky Fast, but hesitated when I saw two giants playing cards by the front door. Not everyone, apparently, was attending the on-going meeting in the study.

  I smiled and waved at them as I strolled by. One forced a smile and the left corner of the other’s mouth quivered. Actually, I didn’t expect even that much since we must have spoiled their fun last night.

  And as I marched up the stairs, I decided right then and there that it was time to get to the bottom of things. Sure, the evidence indicated we were among the enemy, but I wanted some cold, hard facts.

  Then it hit me. What a strange place to be playing cards—and so early. There were no doubt a few more exits in this mansion, and I wondered if I would find another duo playing cards in front of those as well. Yes, we were being watched, of that I was sure.

  The first door at the top of the stairs was Janice’s. And that’s when I received quite a shock—I could hear her snoring like a sailor. Could I get used to snoring like that—that was, if she ever gave me the time of day and hopefully of night? I’m sure I could. A small price to pay—the snoring—when you’re with the one you love.

  I cleared my throat then rapped lightly on the door. No response. Just the rhythmic buzzing. I knocked a little harder this time. Still nothing. “My sweetness, it’s time to get up.”

  I knocked harder. Nothing. Harder still. Nothing. “Janice, my one and only love, I need to talk to you!”

  And the bees buzzed. I looked at my knuckles. They were red and beginning to swell. My eyebrows were knotted from confusion and wonder. This time I used the side of my hand and pounded against the door like a jackhammer. “Janice!”

  Doors opened around me. Juan said something to Buddy. Professor L asked something, but I heard all this at the back of my mind. This was getting personal. She was going to wake up if I had to stand there and pound my bloody, mangled stump of a hand all day long.

  And then a cold chill gripped me even as the sweat oozed through my pores. I had a mental image of Dial in there, blissfully jackhammering away, recovering from an exhausting night in Janice’s bed, while she cuddled against him sans Speed Racer pajamas.

  I jackhammered myself, pounding on the door. “Janice, get the hell up!”

  And the door opened just as my hand was heading toward it again. I stopped my fist just inches from her pillow-creased face. Some of those creases weren’t from a pillow’s indentation—they were from the twisted fury of my rude impatience and, though she didn’t know it, my flaming jealousy.

  “You’re sweating like a pig,” she said.

  And so I was. My heart was also beating as fast as my fist had recently been pounding on her door. Maybe, after all, this would be a problem for us in the future, a problem, her face told me, I wouldn’t have to worry about for a long time to come.

  I peered past her but the bed appeared empty. Dial could be brushing his teeth in the bathroom, flexing his muscles in the mirror, but I didn’t think so. He was no doubt enwrapped in the orgy of our overthrow.

  I tried to catch my breath while the others looked at me. I tried to smile. Finally, I managed to rasp, “Must...go...down... stairs...important.”

  “Why?” asked Juan.

  “Maid...info...on...VVV.”

  “Huh?”

  I stumbled over to him and grabbed the collar of his blood-red pajamas, glad to have an outlet for my suppressed frustration. “Make like Nike and just do it.”

  “The maid has some news for us?” asked professor L.

  “And some eggs.”

  “All right, guys,” said the professor. “You heard the man. Downstairs.”

  They disappeared into their respective rooms. I waited a moment to see if Dial emerged, either cocky or furtive, from Janice’s room, but the suspense became unbearable.

  I began my journey back to the kitchen, but I must have been so distracted I made a few wrong turns. And when I finally stumbled into the kitchen, they were all well into their meals.

  “I fed the rest of your eggs to Cuddles,” said Becky. “They were cold.”

  “Cuddles?” I asked.

  “The Doberman pinscher. When she’s not hunting her own food, she just loves eggs.”

  What mansion wouldn’t be complete without its Dobermans? Except there was always two, wasn’t there? “Where’s the other?” I asked.

  “You mean Pudgy?” She peered out the kitchen window. “Looks like he’s caught himself another wild boar.”

  She placed another steaming plate of eggs and toast before me as I sat down. Janice was glaring at me, and I chose to think positively—at least she was looking at me. Dial, of course, was nowhere around. Some club member. I considered calling an emergency meeting to revoke his membership, but Becky’s information was more pressing.

  “Whenever you’re ready,” said Buddy, a piece of egg finding a strategic if not comfy little place to hide on that bridge of skin separating the left nostril from the right.

  I reached over and picked the egg off. “Becky, could you come here a second?” I said, absently putting whatever was on my finger into my mouth. I liked eggs.

  “Sure, hon. Need more?”

  “No, I’m fine. Actually I haven’t even begun to start. Becky, how long were you telling me you’ve worked here as a maid?”

  “Not maid, Andy, cook, breakfast cook.” And boy was I glad she didn’t give that line about being the breakfast incarnate. “For over twenty years.”

  I smiled at my friends as I asked the next question. “So, after working as the breakfast cook for over twenty
years, you’ve witnessed a lot of events in this old mansion.”

  “No kidding. And let me tell you, not all of it, let’s say, is normal.”

  As if Spock’s human genes had come back in time and possessed us, we all arched a curious eyebrow. This was indeed going more smoothly than I had hoped. Becky Fast must not have had many people to gab with and was happy to finally spill the beans. Or bacon bits.

  “Not that I mean to pry,” I said, “but could you tell us everything?”

  “That would take far too many days and breakfasts, and I don’t miss breakfast! Let me just start by telling you folks this: they are neither immediate family nor kin, and whatever they do, they do in private, and what I do hear I can make no sense of.”

  I rubbed the stubble on my chin, a habit which I believe was appropriate at a time like that, especially when you’re just starting to get stubble and you feel a little macho. “How do you know they’re not related?”

  “An egg told me.”

  There went some more eyebrows.

  “Moving on,” I said with a slight cough. “If they’re not related, why do so many live here?”

  “First of all, Andy, they don’t all live here. I’d say about half do. This last week has been really hectic, for that’s when the other half arrived. They do that every once in a while. But this time things are even crazier, almost hectic around here. I’m glad I leave after breakfast. I mean, they have to fill the entire back of a Bronco with each grocery trip. Then you guys arrive, and everyone seems to have settled down.”

  “Were you given any explanation as to why the sudden onslaught of guests?”

  “None, merely informed to order extra food.”

  “Do they run some kind of business?” asked the professor.

  “I’m not too sure, for I do a simple job, and I do it well, for I am a breakfast person, and if I’m not told something, how could I ever know what goes on around here?” Yet there was a gleam in her eye. House gossip among the hired help is just too juicy to ignore.

  “How many other staffers are there?” I asked.

  “About five, usually.”

  “Surely they must know something.”

  “Perhaps.”

  “You guys ever gossip?”

  “Of course not. But we talk.”

  “Come on, Becky, someone’s overheard something in the last twenty years, and I have a feeling you know.”

  She looked around wildly then sat on our table. “Here’s what I’ve heard. They are hunters, of sorts.”

  “What do they hunt?” Juan asked, with a mouthful of eggs.

  “Monsters.” Matter-of-factly.

  “What kind of monsters?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Monsters? Was that the word she used? The nerve. Vampires had a bad reputation around these parts, apparently.

  Professor L, however, played it off like a champ. “Come on, Becky, is that it?”

  “Yes.”

  “No one believes in monsters nowadays. Give us the real scoop, what do they really do?”

  “I-I don’t know—they’re hunters.”

  “Becky, just relax. Now think, have you ever seen any of them hunt, or seen signs of their hunting?”

  “No.”

  “No deer heads hanging in the library, and no stuffed birds that I can see,” I offered.

  “What do they do all day long?” the professor asked.

  “Mostly sit around, or go around back and do some unusual training maneuvers. Every once in a while, Raul will leave for a few days and sometimes weeks.”

  “Who is this Raul guy?” Buddy asked.

  “He’s like the boss. I hear him tell others to do stuff all the time. He’s the older guy that everyone follows around.”

  Granddaddy Grandmaster? Why had he told us a different name?

  “I-I used to think they all worked for the CIA, some kind of Black Ops. I mean just look at them. They’re like soldiers just raring to go, but it—”

  “Seems like they have no place to go?” I interrupted.

  “Yes, they’re like a passive force, until—”

  “Recently?” I finished again.

  She looked at me as if she possessed the ability to finish her own sentences and wanted to do so. Janice glared at me, so I went back to eating eggs.

  “Yes, there’s a fire surging through them now. And then you guys come along. What business do you have here?”

  A fair question, I reasoned, but one I was somewhat unprepared for. I babbled a bit, drool spilling over onto my chin. As I was wiping it away, lovely Janice came to her man’s rescue. “Field trip, Becky. We’re from Western Virginia University.”

  “Now why does that college sound familiar?” said Becky, and that was the first time I had ever heard the phrase said about our college. “I’ve heard of it spoken around here. There seems to be some interest in it.”

  “Not West Virginia?” I asked.

  “No, plain Virginia, only with the ‘western.’”

  Juan then asked, “Have you heard of a young man named Dial Toen?”

  “Never in my life. You chaps are pretty curious about this place and what goes on in it, huh?” she asked, and suddenly I was very alarmed.

  What if she reported back to Granddaddy Grandmaster or Raul or whomever what had just transpired in this room. But she couldn’t, for she just put a hole in Dial’s story about this being the home of his relatives. She had no loyalty to them, so we were safe.

  “Yes,” said Janice, “And we get more curious every minute.”

  “Are they up to something?” asked Becky, hoping for some meaty rumor material.

  “We’re not sure,” said Professor L, giving her nothing to hoard away until she could whisper with the other hired help. “We’re just trying to learn a little more about our mysterious host. Field trips are all about research, you know.”

  We all nodded vigorously and praised her eggs.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Becky Fast was a well-oiled breakfast machine, or maybe it was all that bacon grease. When she was gone, the kitchen was spotless and we were full.

  And the moment Becky stepped through the swinging kitchen doors, Professor L emphatically slammed his fist down. “We must act quickly!”

  My pants were unbuttoned and I was rubbing my swollen belly. I didn’t think I could act quickly if I were paid to. Unless, of course, Janice wanted to loosen my pants some more.

  “The VVV are at this very moment in conference, no doubt discussing our fate,” the professor said. “We must act now, while there’s time.”

  Buddy muttered: “Nice show. That whole ‘cook’ act.”

  Janice nodded. “You kinda feel sorry for her. Did you pay her or just charm her?”

  I realized what they were getting at. “You think that was all bullshit?”

  “Of course,” said Juan. “She’s just pissed because she has to work overtime for the family reunion.”

  Now I was absolutely amazed. “You still think this is a family reunion? You still think all these goddammed giants are related?”

  “Makes sense to me,” said Janice, breaking my heart. “I mean, it must all be in the genes. I mean, just look at Dial—how muscular, how handsome, how—”

  “How about enough?” I said, irritated.

  “I’m with them,” Buddy said. “She can cook a decent egg, but she doesn’t know beans about vampire hunters.”

  “Janice, you heard them last night!” I said, stifling a burp.

  “I heard what sounded like a family reunion, despite all their cussing. Just loved ones catching up on news.”

  “Friends, fellow vampire lovers, can’t you see we’re in the midst of the ultimate enemy? Will you listen to reason? How is it that Dial’s relatives just happen to live within miles of a vampire—”

  Buddy stood. “We listened to your damned reason last night, and look what it’s cost us—a perfect opportunity to free a bound vampire and fulfill our quest. You’re paranoid, And
y. Deep down, you fear reviving this vampire. I think you fear it may not turn out to be what you have expected. Like the fantasy is better than reality.”

  My mouth snapped open to retort, but Buddy wasn’t quite done: “Now, I think I speak for Janice and Juan by saying Dial is A-OK and he’s very much one of us. Tonight, we will revive our vampire—with or without you!”

  And the three amigos left the kitchen like a wolf pack.

  The Old Man and I sat in silence for a moment.

  “They’re in grave danger, no pun intended,” said L.

  “Yep, they’re digging their own graves, pun intended,” I said. “What can we do, Professor?”

  “Their passion has overcome them. When people are in a state of mind such as theirs, you can do only one thing: keep them from hurting themselves, otherwise you’ll watch your best friends be buried alive—gotcha!”

  “But there’s so much at stake,” I came back.

  “A mystery we can sink our teeth into,” he said.

  “Bite me,” I said, the nail in the coffin of vampire clichés. I got up to leave, buttoning my pants with a grunt, before he came up with something worse.

  Chapter Seventeen

  He did come back with something worse. Reality.

  “Andy,” said the professor, as I reached the oversized kitchen door. “We know the enemy is in another one of their meetings, rethinking their plans. What exactly they’re up to, I don’t know, but while they’re away, we have a golden opportunity to poke around—maybe we can get to the bottom of things before night.”

  “And before,” I added solemnly, “our comrades blunder into a trap—the poor fools. I know of one thing I want to check out.”

  “What’s that?”

  “The cellar. I think there’s something down there.”

  The professor smiled and arched an eyebrow. “Like what, my student?”

  “Something old and very much alive.”

  “My feelings exactly. Why leave the vampire six feet under in a cold grave, when you could keep track of him in your damned mansion?”

  “I have a question, professor.”

  “Speak.”

 

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