by R. G. Nelson
We blend into the shadows of the back yard and start to creep around the side of the house. Even the pathway strikes me: It’s bordered by woodchip mulch on one side and well-groomed sod on the other and paved with what appears to be expensive carved red stone. As we move further in, I see a child’s play-set that was previously hidden from view by the trellis. At two or three points, Hamad indicates motion lights that Jesús and I take out, utilizing the bar above the swing-set to get a better angle. I note with satisfaction that it’s pretty easy to disable them when you are as fast as we are.
We reach the front and climb the few steps to the porch. The columns holding up a small terrace above us provide the perfect cover. These, together with the large potted plants, combine to render any nosy neighbors incapable of making us out, even without our masks. Humans can really be their own worst enemies, valuing an attractive façade above their own safety. Then again, I bet most families in this neighborhood wouldn’t place a squad of subversive vampires high on their list of daily concerns. Or nightly.
Jesús and I take positions on either side of the door. Ding-dong. Hamad opens the outer door and rings the bell, following it with a brisk, but friendly, knock. “There’s the knock,” he announces grandiosely. “And here comes the grab,” he adds wryly. Mask-less now, he plasters a pleasant smile on his face and waits for someone to answer.
I hear hesitant steps approach the door. The couple on the other side have a quiet, but urgent debate on the appropriate response. I hear a man order someone to “see what they want.”
Hamad apparently hears the discussion as well. “I’m so sorry, but my car broke down, and I accidentally forgot to bring my phone with me. My daughter is in the back seat, and I was hoping I could trouble you to borrow a phone for a quick second to call my wife.” His voice is the perfect mixture of concern and affability.
The footsteps come closer and I know from the heartbeats that someone is on the other side, probably observing through the peep-hole. A few seconds later, I hear the chain slide on and the door open. In the reflection on the open outer door, I catch a skeptical-looking female face sticking out from behind the chained door. She’s no dummy, that’s for sure, but she made a huge miscalculation opening up to us even this much.
“You have a daughter?” she asks suspiciously. Her eyes probe the darkness of the street beyond, searching for the car in question.
“No, but you do.” Hamad steps into her field of view, his dancing pupils ablaze with intent. “May we come in? Do say yes,” he says deviously before slipping on his mask.
Thirty seconds later and I’m sneaking into an upstairs bedroom. It smells like child and looks the part, too. A tiny figure is asleep under pink covers with rainbows on them. An army of stuffed animals guard the shelves nearby. Decorative artwork hanging on the wall above the bed lets me know that the delicate little sluggish heartbeats belong to “Annie.” I pause at the foot of the bed and watch for a few seconds. She sleeps so peacefully that I hate to disturb her. How can I wake someone so small and innocent and shake her world upside down? Who am I to end her childhood here and now, tonight? For the first time in my undead existence, I truly feel like a monster.
The door creaks behind me. I turn and see an impatient Jesús in the doorway. “What part of rápido don’t you understand?” he presses.
In her bed, I sense Annie stir sleepily. She cracks a heavy eye and groggily sits up to check out the source of the sound, not guessing that perhaps this time there really is a creature to be afraid of in her room. I freeze, applying that same misguided theory that many unfortunate animals have applied before when facing oncoming headlights. In this case, it’s just as ineffective: Despite my not having moved at all, Annie sees me and starts to let out a shriek to rival anything I’ve ever seen in a cheesy slasher movie.
The high pitch, amplified a million times by my senses, knocks me out of my stupor, and in less than a second I’m standing over her with my hand clamped down tightly on her mouth. She struggles furiously, but to no avail; she might as well be a newborn kitten in my palms for all her effort registers against my preternatural strength. Jesús sighs loudly behind me to make sure that I know I messed up and disappears back downstairs. I shake Annie (gently I hope) to get her to stop her frantic tantrum.
“Shh! Shh! I'm not going to hurt you,” I coo in what I hope passes for a nice-guy vampire voice. Despite the fact that I’m wearing a mask, I try something else: “Stop struggling. Please. I’m a friend of your Mom.” That’s a cheap move considering she’s only about six or seven, but it seems to do the trick. “I’m taking you to her now.” I don’t trust her enough to remove my hand, but she doesn’t struggle anymore. Not that it would hinder me in any way, but I feel somehow better about the whole situation if she comes calmly.
I head downstairs and see Hamad and Jesús binding and gagging her parents. Jesús appears to have shaken off the gloominess: He really seems to be enjoying himself now. The whole scene down here undoes my plan to have an acquiescent Annie; she begins to squirm and wriggle all over again. The TV is on in the background. I can tell it’s another story about the Vice-President and his drive to stop the Movement from taking over the American streets. As I survey the situation in front of me, the story’s timing strikes me as particularly ironic.
“Nice job, slick. You couldn’t deal with a little girl? I think the whole neighborhood’s awake now,” Jesús says. I’m sure he is just saying that for Hamad’s benefit this time since he already showed me his own displeasure upstairs.
Still, I figure I owe them an explanation. “Yeah, she–” I cut myself off, distinctly aware of how lame anything I’m about to say will sound. “My bad,” I finish instead.
“Secure the girl. We need to be gone in thirty seconds,” Hamad orders. He tosses me a gag and flexi-cuffs.
I turn my back on them and wish I could mouth “Sorry” through my mask to Annie as I wrap her tight for her journey out the back into the rather spacious trunk of our car.
* * *
We walk down the long corridor to Joseph’s new office. There are still signs of the not-too-far removed relocation to this abandoned factory complex. For one, boxes are still littered about everywhere. It’s as though we all rushed to set stuff up so we could operate from here and then just forgot to clean once things were up and running. Aside from the boxes, the place is filthy with the grime of hard industrial use and then disuse for (probably) decades. I guess filth doesn’t bother most vampires the way it does humans: We don’t have to worry about germs and things like that, and many of the older vampires were probably turned in eras with different sanitary standards. Or maybe someone just feels that the creepy basement vibe adds to the allure of it being a base for vampires.
Either way, we carefully step around the random cardboard and other obstacles in the hallway as we approach Joseph’s office. This is somewhat complicated by the fact that we are carrying squirming humans. As we get close, I can hear Joseph in conversation with someone else, another vampire by the lack of a heartbeat. I easily place the accent as German, but the intonation and speech pattern make him seem like a professor or something.
“And how long will the paralysis last?” I hear Joseph ask.
The voice tentatively replies, “Difficult to say, but I'd guess anywhere from a few short minutes to hours or even permanently, depending of course upon–”
“Yes, yes. Fine,” Joseph interrupts. “And when can it be ready?”
“Well, that also depends. We spoke about a certain human biochemist pursuing research that could be quite beneficial for our cause?” the voice responds cautiously.
“Yes, I’ve handled that, as you’ll soon see,” Joseph says. “Come in.”
We assume this is to us–we’ve arrived near the partially ajar door ju
st as Joseph invites us into his office. I step inside first, still carrying a terrified Annie. I wanted to enthrall her into complacence, but Hamad insisted her fear could be useful. For what, I’m not sure, but it doesn’t sound good. I’m just happy that we didn’t bump into Vera; I don’t know how favorably she’d view me with a bound kid in my arms. The two vampires inside, however, don’t bat an eye. Hamad and Jesús are right behind me carrying the husband and wife.
“I'm back, bearing gifts,” Hamad says cheerfully.
“Ah, excellent,” Joseph says. He turns to the other vampire and indicates the struggling humans, “You see, Doctor, the matter has already been attended to.”
The other man, who must be the owner of the professor-like voice, was turned sometime in his middle age as indicated by the start of worry lines on his face and thinning hair well into the process of graying. He has some sort of lab coat on and truly comes across as the adult version of the kid in school who always sat in the front of the class, but alone at lunch. I figure this must be Dr. Metz. I’ve never met him, but have heard his name before. He’s the local head of our … well, I guess you could call it our scientific research department. One of those divisions Vera said is working to find ways for us to better survive in modern human society.
“I do see. That is good news. Hopefully, she won’t put up too much of a fight,” Dr. Metz says with a meaningful glance at the wife. Woah, I guess Annie’s mother is the scientist–I had just kinda assumed it was the father for some reason. “Do I need to be here for this?” he continues.
“No, you can go,” Joseph allows. “Just be ready to proceed immediately once she is onboard.”
Dr. Metz bows his head politely, in what I take to be an older European fashion, and leaves the room quickly. I can’t tell if he doesn’t have the stomach for this sort of thing or if he is just super busy.
Once Metz is gone, Joseph turns his attention back to us. “Ungag her,” he orders. Jesús complies.
“So, my dear, this is what you make me resort to. I told you before that I'm a reasonable man, but I have my limits,” Joseph states politely with an especially thick accent. I wonder if he’s turning it up for effect.
“Please, don't hurt my family. I'll do whatever you want,” she says. Her terrified tone stands in stark contrast to Joseph’s civil demeanor.
He chuckles good-naturedly, as if they are sharing a small joke between two old friends. “Yes, I very much expect you shall. Tell you what–let’s have a conversation, you and I.”
Her husband looks bewildered and makes an effort to interject, but Hamad tightens his grip. Joseph seems to notice the man for the first time. “Take the husband and daughter to the holes for temporary holding,” he tells me with a pronounced emphasis on temporary. I’m not sure if that is supposed to be reassuring for the lady … or threatening. The only humans I put in temporary holding at the old base were street thugs that we were trying to use somehow, and they didn’t stay there long. Or alive.
Either way, I grab Annie and her dad and head for the exit, using real force when he tries to stay behind with his wife. I fully support his loyalty to her, but I can’t have him showing me up in front of Joseph. He tries to say something through his gag, but the words come out like an indistinguishable hum.
“It’s okay; stay with Annie,” the wife says.
She is trying to appear strong, but I can tell that she is on the edge of breaking down. The sound of the heart gives away so much in humans. We make our way out and down the hallway, one forced step at a time. Eventually, the man begins to walk easier and shifts himself to be closer to Annie. I allow it because Annie has begun crying. Her little tears drip down her rosy cheeks and stain the gag wrapped around her mouth. Whoever made the gag must have used a piece of one of her cartoon kiddie blankets, and the twisted effect is quite sinister looking.
Dr. Metz crosses in front of me and briefly stops to observe me at my task. I tentatively nod at Metz, whom I haven’t officially met yet, not exactly sure of what the appropriate greeting is for a situation like this. I’m half-carrying, half-dragging the two human figures through the box-strewn corridor and feeling very aware of how this would look to the casual human observer. He moves on, though, without so much as a flicker of acknowledgement in return.
Once I unlock and enter the holding area we have appropriately been referring to as “the holes,” I unbind and place the father in one of the completed cells (some are still being built–factories don’t really come with holding blocks pre-installed) and Annie in another, smaller one. They aren’t really similar to holes in that they aren’t dug into the ground or anything, but I guess once inside, you’d pretty much experience the same thing. The cells are made for solitary confinement–for breaking people through denial of the one thing most crave: space and light.
Now that he can speak properly, the father begins to implore me. “Please, don't hurt my daughter–or my wife. We'll do whatever you want. Please.”
This makes me feel uncomfortable. I’m not in a position to help him one way or the other. And his wife must have really pissed Joseph off to end up here. I’m sure that he had her approached through normal channels, maybe even offered her a grant in return for her cooperation with research into whatever he’s working on. She was stupid to turn it down. I tell myself that abducting a whole family has to literally be like the last option for us–we’d much prefer easier ways to get things done.
“I don't make the decisions,” I respond. “And don't scream; no one can hear you. Well, no one who cares,” I add. I start to head out, but am disturbed by the sound of Annie crying alone in her cell.
“I want my mommy. Don't hurt her,” she whimpers. I know that I’m a big, bad vampire and that somewhere inside me there’s a part wondering what such innocence tastes like, but a much larger part of me is bothered by the sight of Annie’s tears. If a shrink were here, he might even point out that I can relate to the girl’s fears of losing her mother right now. Almost without thinking, I open up Annie’s cell and carry her out. She folds up in my arms this time without a struggle, too weary or trusting to resist.
“I hope I don’t regret this,” I declare under my breath to no one in particular. I then open up her father’s cell and put Annie inside. There’s room enough for her considering her tiny stature–or more accurately, there’s so little space anyway that adding her won’t bring much more additional discomfort to her dad.
“Thank you. Thank you so much,” he says, looking genuinely relieved. I nod and close the cell, sealing off any chance of the dim room lighting from reaching inside. But something about the clank of the door or the darkness it shuts in triggers alarm in him all over again. “Please, help us. Please,” he begins to beg.
I shake my head (not that he can even see me), “That's all I can do for you–except to give you a piece of advice: you and your wife need to do whatever Joseph wants.” He probably doesn’t realize that he is being held by vampires, but hopefully everything he and his wife are experiencing tonight will convince them of the wisdom in my advice.
Either way, I step out the door to the holding area and hear the lock pop shut behind me.
* * *
I walk down the hallway just outside the holes, a mixture of bundled emotions. I’m trying to suppress these recent events so that they don’t rise up and find me in the depths of the day sometime. I almost wish that I could be enthralled to forget things. Since I can’t, I focus on Vera and try to think about some fun stuff we can do in the next couple of nights.
I’m somewhere between deciding whether to check out a new movie about super-heroes or trying to sneak onto a driving range at night to see who can hit a ball farther when I sense a presence looming in front of me. I look up and am surprised to see Dr. Metz again.
“Adam, right?” he says, extending his hand.
I pause briefly before reaching out to shake it. “Yeah, right. Nice to officially meet you,” I return. Meanwhile, my brain is racing. I wonder if he followed me to the holes just now … and if so, why? And what did he see or hear there?
His face wears a pleasant expression, yet somehow I sense it’s a mask. I wonder if he learned that trick from Joseph–seeming to be agreeable in conversation to cover other motives. “That was nice of you. You didn't have to do that,” he throws out sociably.
“Do what?” I say, hoping against hope that he means something other than what I think he does.
He cocks a suggestive eyebrow at me. Amazing how one little motion in such a tiny little muscle can say so much. So he did see.
“Yeah, well, she's just a little girl,” I add on, attempting to be nonchalant about it.
“Oh, yes, of course,” he responds amenably, nodding slightly. A momentary silence looms between us just as he still looms in my path. I don’t know what else to say, so I wait for the other shoe to drop. “Still …” his voice slices through the air, “… human, though.”
And there it is.
“Yeah, so? What’s the big deal? Joseph didn’t specify to me that they should be separated. They’re still both there, available and waiting for him to decide what to do with them,” I retort.
I try to make my tone convey a blend of being simultaneously offended by such a ridiculous line of inquiry and bored by having to continue it. I hope that he’s buying it–I already slipped up a bit earlier tonight by hesitating for that second and letting Annie get a scream out. I don’t know what would happen if I got a reputation for not being fully committed, or for being a human sympathizer, but I’m sure that it wouldn’t be good. Who knows the kind of stuff they’d ask me to do then to prove myself?