by R. C. Graham
We re-enter our vehicle and start out of the lot.
“Do you want to get to your family tonight?” I ask her.
Diane ponders for a moment. “No,” she decides, “I wouldn’t want to wake them up. Let’s head to that campground a few miles back.”
“D’accord,” I agree. We can sleep there and arrive at her parents early tomorrow night.
We’re about halfway to our destination when I notice another vehicle appear in the rear view mirror. A pickup truck, moving fast. The echo of several men giving those infamous ‘Rebel Yells’ comes to me. Our pursuer quickly overtakes us and pulls up on Diane’s side, disappearing from my view.
“Oh, for Christ’s sake,” she growls.
“What?”
“It’s Dwayne and his buddies. I’ve got a shotgun pointed at me. They’re signaling me to follow them.”
“Oh let’s,” I tell her. “This might be fun.”
Her eyes dart to me and she grins. “It might at that.” The wide smile vanishes and she sets her jaw. It’s only the second time she’s been in conflict since her change. That time wasn’t as serious as this one. I can see she’s rather nervous about it.
The pickup pulls in front. There are three men in the bed. The one with the shotgun keeps it on her. Another points a pistol at me. The third man, the one who spit, lounges sitting against the cab, a baseball bat across his knees.
After a couple of minutes driving, the other vehicle pulls onto a lane and shortly after that leads us into a field. They halt so that their vehicle is perpendicular to the nose of our RV and about five car lengths away. The men in the back jump to the ground and bring their weapons to bear once more. Dwayne climbs from the driver’s seat and the last man, the one in the passenger seat. comes into view. They gather in a loose line a step or two from their pickup.
“Come on out, darlin’,” drawls the big man. “We got some things to talk about.”
Diane turns off the engine but leaves the headlights on. We exit our vehicle and move to the front of it as our assailant’s commanded. The man with the shotgun comes forward, stands to my right, covering us both.
“Come ‘ere,” Dwayne directs my lady, curling a finger at her. “We want to make sure that man of yours gets a good view.”
She steps forward with a relaxed gait. I can see she’s not the least bit concerned with what’s about to happen. The four men by the truck watch her approach.
I turn my face to the man covering me. He smiles back. I can see he’s anxious for me to give him an excuse to pull the trigger. So I gaze into his eyes, bury his will in mine. His face slackens. “Don’t move a muscle or make a sound,” I order a low voice. With a nod of my head in Diane’s direction I order him to watch. When I let him go, he does as he’s told. A quivering of his lips and the terror in his eyes show how alarmed he is at his sudden helplessness.
My attention returns to Diane and the idiots confronting her. She stops a step away from Dwayne. He and the others leer at her. I can’t blame them for that.
“I never liked you, bitch,” states the florid faced man. “I don’t like dykes. I don’t like smart asses. If you’d gotten some decent cock, that would have changed.” He looks at me. “And when you do decide to get some cock it’s with some fucking cheese eater.”
I keep my face impassive but snicker inside. It’s been over two centuries since I ate any cheese.
“Tonight, bitch,” Dwayne goes on, “you’re going to get all the good American cock you can take. That skinny bastard over there is going to watch. When we’re done your bodies will go into an old well and we’ll find something useful to do with your RV.”
He steps up to Diane, his hands reach out and squeeze her breasts. Her hands come up to his chest. Dwayne sneers a vicious smile, thinking the small woman he’s about to abuse is helpless.
Then he flies through the air. He slams into the driver’s door of the pickup, shattering the glass and leaving a man shaped dent in the metal.
His compatriots stand frozen with amazement.
My lady bounces to the man holding the pistol. She pushes it down and away. Her left foot comes up between his legs, lifting him well off the ground. His gun discharges harmlessly into the dirt and he collapses.
With two swift steps to her right Diane buries her fist in the torso of the man on that side. The sound of his sternum breaking cracks though the air. He goes to his knees, gagging on his pain.
The man with the baseball bat snaps free of the shock that held him. With an animal howl he swings his weapon at her. My love turns in his direction and grabs it with her left hand, stopping him dead. He pushes at it with a grunt, trying to complete his attack. She doesn’t budge. Then, his face twisting in effort, tries to pull himself free of her grip. That, needless to say, is not successful either. His mouth goes slack and he stares at Diane with astonishment. I can almost hear the gears whirring as he tries to fathom how a slip of a woman can hold against him.
Without effort, Diane takes his weapon from him and slams it against his jaw, shattering it. He goes full length to the ground.
Diane corrects her grip, steps forward and brings the bat high. Her mask slips and the monster she is comes out.
“Cher! No!” I shout at her.
She turns to glare at me, hell in her eyes. “Don’t come between me and my prey,” she snarls. Her voice has almost no humanity in it at all.
My own darkness rises to meet her. I don’t like being challenged any more than she does. But I seize it, push it down. “Diane,” I say quietly, “no.”
She holds still for a moment. The woman I love returns to give me a weak smile. “Thanks, chére. I wouldn’t want to dirty my hands with these assholes.”
A whimper sounds to my right, and the smell of urine fills my nostrils. “Drop it,” I tell the man I enthralled.
“My lady,” I say to him when his hands are empty, “isn’t she magnificent?” I follow that with a right cross to his jaw that lays him out.
I walk towards Diane and she towards me. We embrace, lay a warm kiss on the other’s mouth. “Well done,” I tell her.
She smiles. “Thanks. That was fun. These guys have been needing a shit kicking for a while now.” My strange lady looks at the limp forms scattered about. “What ever shall we do with them?” is the question she then asks in a most sarcastic tone.
In answer I lead her to the man I’ve knocked out. “I think it’s time for you to try a little something.” I bend, grab his collar and sit him up. “I’ll bring him around. You try to control him. Meet his eyes, you’ll be able to feel him, his mind. Concentrate, grab it. Then plant some memories, and remove any he has of you and I.”
She nods and kneels. “I’m ready,” she tells me after a moment’s pause.
I squeeze his earlobe hard. With a gasp he comes awake. A moment later he goes slack, his eyes fixed on Diane.
“Oh, cool,” she remarks. “I can feel him, he’s open to me.”
“Feed him a story. Make sure he doesn’t remember us.”
“Okay.” She pauses again, then speaks to him. “You didn’t see us after we left Red’s. You and your buddies went looking but didn’t find us. You did find some bikers who beat the shit out of you. You have no idea where we went to or what we are.” She lets his mind go and I slap him into unconsciousness.
“Will that hold up you think, Georges?” she asks me.
“It doesn’t matter,” I reply. “His memories of us here are gone now. They will be filled by other things his mind will create to fill the gaps. Of course it won’t be consistent but the inconsistencies will be about those creations and not what we did here. Any authorities will be baffled but they won’t know about us.
“Now let’s fix the rest of them. Wipe down the baseball bat, it’s got your prints on it.”
We clean up, get back in our vehicle and head to the campground. Diane smiles, shows much less tension.
On arrival we rent a spot for the day. We connect power and water the
n spend some time relaxing, Diane on-line while I read.
Dawn approaches and we close up. Shutters come down and are locked. We get undressed, close off our sleeping area and climb into bed. Spooned together, we wait for the sun.
“That was an interesting night,” Diane says.
“It was. Merci, chéri.”
“Why thank me?” she asks.
“Because I got to spend it with you.”
She wriggles against me.
The sun comes up and we know no more.
* * * *
We rise with the sunset. The shower is too small for both of us so we have to take turns. Ladies first, of course.
When Diane finishes I clean myself. I can hear her brush her teeth at the sink, get dressed and go outside. She likes being outdoors and is always the first out of where ever we’re staying.
I finish my toilette, then start opening shutters. Just as the last one at the very back rolls up, a police cruiser goes past. ‘Sheriff’ is written in large letters on the side of it. The play of lights that dances over neighboring vehicles tells me it pulls up in front of our RV. A touch of concern furrows my forehead as I head to the side exit.
A car door opens, quite obviously the law enforcement vehicle I just observed. “Excuse me, ma’am,” I hear a deep female voice say. That’s followed by a sudden gasp. “Diane?”
“Carol!” responds my love.
At that point I open the door and peer out. A medium sized woman with short dark hair, solidly built and dressed in a deputy’s uniform has her arms wrapped around my lady. Diane is returning it.
The deputy pulls her head from Diane’s shoulder, leans it forward, aiming her lips at Diane’s mouth. My love turns her to catch the kiss on her cheek. The brunette woman jerks her head back, her eyes wide with surprise and confusion twisting her mouth.
I walk up to them. “Bonsoir, deputy,” I greet. “Can we help you?”
Diane takes herself from the other woman’s arms. She steps back, next to me. Our hands automatically reach for each other.
The other woman’s mouth drops in astonishment and she stands still for several seconds. Her eyes glitter for a moment before she closes them, wipes an arm across her face. When she opens them again, she shows only her profession. “Perhaps, Mr.?”
“Belleveau, Georges Belleveau.”
Carol pulls out her notebook and jots that down.
“Where are you from, Mr. Belleveau?”
“Paris,” I tell her, pronouncing it properly, “France.”
“And you, ma’am?”
“You don’t need to be so formal, Carol,” Diane tells her. “But I’m still Diane Patterson…and I’m living with Georges now.”
The deputy shivers for a moment, the corners of her mouth dip downward. She firms up after a second to ask, “And what is your purpose in our county?”
“We’re tourists,” I tell her, “on our way to visit my love’s family.” I lift Diane’s hand to my mouth and kiss it.
A small whine sounds from Carol’s throat.
I sigh inside. It’s obvious she and Diane share a history. So I’ll lessen my displays of affection. I don’t want to hurt someone whom my lady cares about.
The other woman manages a weak smile, her professional mien fades for a moment. “Your folks are doing good. I talked to them last week. They didn’t know you were coming.”
“We wanted to make it a surprise,” Diane tells her.
“It will be.” Carol lifts her pad and continues questioning us. “Were you at the establishment known as Red’s last night?”
“Oui,” is my reply. “We drove by it and Diane told me she had happy memories of that place. So we went in and had a couple of drinks. We saw some old friends of hers and talked to them.”
“Could I get those people’s names, please?”
We mention Tim and Patti, as well as Ginny.
“Did either of you see the man known as Dwayne Coltrane or…” and Carol rattles off four more names.
“Dwayne?” I ask. My head turns to Diane and I affect mild confusion, asking, “Wasn’t he that unpleasant looking individual that accosted you?” I turn back to Carol. “I don’t know any of those other names.”
The deputy snickers. “’Unpleasant looking individual.’ You have a good eye for character, Mr. Belleveau. How about you, Diane?”
“Yeah,” is the answer. “They were there. Dwayne tried coming on to me in his inimitable manner. I shot him down. You know how I feel about those assholes.”
Carol nods. “Did you see them outside of Red’s?”
“No,” I tell her, “we left and came straight here.”
The dark haired woman folds up her notebook. “Okay, thanks.”
“May we ask what this is about, deputy?” I question then.
She ruminates for a second. Carol looks at Diane, and sighs. Then she looks at me with a quick flash of jealousy flashing across her features. Her eyes go to the pad in her hands then come back up.
“Okay,” she starts. “Don’t spread this around, but someone did a number on Dwayne and his friends last night.”
“It couldn’t have happened to a nicer bunch of people,” is Diane’s remark.
Carol grins. “I won’t lose any sleep over it. But their story doesn’t add up.
“They claim they were attacked by some bikers. But no one saw any bikers in the area last night, and bikers would have worked them over pretty good. All of Dwayne’s friends suffered one disabling injury and nothing else.
“His injuries were worse, but very odd. Someone threw him against his truck, hard enough to break limbs, ribs and his pelvis.” Carol’s voice communicates her consternation to us. “You know how big he is. It’s hard to believe anyone could do that. Maybe another big man, on PCP or something, could do it. But we haven’t found anyone like that either.
“It’s really strange.” Diane’s friend shakes her head as if she can’t quite believe the story just recounted.
My lady and I look at each other, and we show surprised stares. “I’ll say,” remarks Diane, returning her attention to her old lover. “I wish we could help more, or are we under suspicion?” The tone of her voice is bantering
Carol chuckles. “I don’t think I need to worry about you two for some reason. You don’t look like the types who could take out five armed men.”
She puts her pad and pen away. Carol looks at Diane and her face carries a trace of melancholy. “Nice to see you again. Call the station and we’ll get together.”
“If I find the time, I will,” Diane assures her.
The deputy turns away and gets back in her car. Reversing it out to the trail, she pauses for a moment, looks at the two of us. Her lower lip quivers for a moment. Then she faces front and drives away.
Diane turns to hug me tightly.
As always, I return the gesture. “Someone you know, cher?”
“Yeah. She took my virginity.”
“Ah,” I remark. I feel no anger about that. Why should I? Diane had her own life before she entered my world in darkness. As well, it’s obvious her heart belongs wholly belongs to me.
“It was the summer before I went to university,” my love goes on. “She was the older sister of a friend of mine. Carol had just graduated and I went to pick her brain.
“I was very unsure of myself, sexually. None of the guys around here did it for me. There were rumors because I was so relentlessly single. I guess Carol had heard them. She seduced me. It was flattering, skillful and awfully exciting. No guy had really tried that.
“I gave in. It was fun. We had a hot relationship that summer.
“But it didn’t stop me from going away. Nice as it was, it really wasn’t what I was looking for. I hadn’t realized until now that she might have fallen for me.
“So much for my feminine intuition,” she finishes with a smile.
“Don’t feel bad,” I tell her, smiling back. “I’m not without intuition, and I have a couple of centuries experie
nce with it. But I made the same mistake not too long ago.”
“But we fixed that, didn’t we, love?”
Our mouths meet and we share the kiss that lets the other know how much we care.
When I finally pull my lips from hers I note, “We’d better get on the road. We don’t want to arrive at your parents too late.” Diane nods and we go about preparing for the last leg of our trip.
We’re on the road within ten minutes. A tad less than half an hour after that, Diane turns our RV up the driveway to her parent’s home.
It’s a two story wood building, blue with white trim. It has the porch so common to farmhouses in North America. There’s a lot of ground free of trees surrounding it, quite a few acres it seems. The area around the house is a well-kept lawn, the rest is hay just starting to turn. There is a shed to the left side of the house and a barn somewhat farther behind it. I can smell the excrement of horses.
We drive up to the house, stopping so that the passenger side is facing it.
A man comes out onto the porch. A stocky man about my height. Although at least seventy he moves with the ease of someone much younger. I can tell where my love got her green eyes from. His hair is white but I would bet it had been auburn once.
I open the door and climb to the ground. I hear Diane do the same.
“Can I help you, mister?” asks my lady’s father. I don’t bother to reply. Diane walks into sight. A delighted expression fills his face in an instant.
At that moment a dog emerges from the front door with a clicking of nails on wood. A collie, getting on in years. It looks at us…and its head lowers, its tail goes between its legs. With a whine it backs away into the house. A moment later I can hear it barreling up the stairs and to the farthest point of the upper floor.
I turn to look at my love. There is hurt and surprise showing in her expression. We vampires don’t often encounter animals in our world. They always know just what we are. In a city, our most frequent hunting grounds, it’s much less obvious to humans what causes the reaction we just observed. So we rarely have to worry about animals giving us away.