by Ian Hall
The band were getting into their positions when I popped out from behind the tree. He sensed me right away, flashing his head round, smiling. That’s when the Alan I knew shed his nerd skin and paid me his usual, evil grin. I could tell he liked this reverse stalking thing. Of course, he had no idea I wasn’t just there to listen to him play.
As they belted out their first notes, I shimmied my way into the marching band. Almost like all of us - everybody there - were in this suspended, slow motion moment. Nothing seemed real. Must have looked like I danced to the music ‘cause they were into a swing number. A pretty big crowd had grown to watch; a lot of them were swaying, too.
Everybody smiled; first game of the season. It was a happy time. Nobody seemed aware of the lion pressing through the fold.
Not even Alan.
I stepped right up beside him in line, matching him step for step even though I didn’t know the routine. It took a minute for him to notice. When he did, he pulled the horn away from his face and gave me this odd, questioning look.
I smiled, took his hand, and kissed it like you see in some movies. We were getting a lot of attention but people were loving it - like they’d just stepped into a romantic comedy.
“I’m cashing in my ticket,” I told him, practically shouting to be heard over the noise. “Getting on the train!”
Alan looked so proud then. So damn pleased with himself.
I still had his hand and I put it on my chest. That got a HUGE reaction from the bandsmen immediately around us. Alan snatched his hand away, acting like I’d embarrassed him. But, I knew better. Looking down, I could tell he was really into it.
And then I did it.
I forced my whole body against his. Alan’s head went back, I ripped the collar from his uniform, and sank my teeth deep into his neck. I more slashed and mauled than anything; making a bit of a mess. I guess I got caught up in the event ‘cause I got that crazy, dizzy, gotta-have-it head rush, and next thing I knew, I had one hand inside his white trousers, jacking him while sucking so deeply on his blood.
Weird and wonderful.
And I had caught Alan so much by surprise, he hadn’t had time to react at all.
From the crowd I heard whistling and hooting that turned into jeers and shocked gasps. Then the music went completely silent. All eyes were on us.
“Break it up, you two!” somebody - probably the band teacher - yelled across the silence.
Musicians were running and screaming in all directions. Then I saw Lyman, Lysol, whatever. That weird red headed kid just standing there, gawking stupidly at my boobs again.
I kept ripping at Alan’s neck. To be honest, there wasn’t much left of it. I’d opened most of his upper chest, and drank all I could take.
Alan’s body felt limp in my arms. I heard his horn fall to the ground. It made a fantastic sound in the silence of the evening. And then I let Alan fall down beside it.
I felt utterly fantastic!
I wiped Alan’s dripping blood from my mouth and jogged off into the night.
After I got clear of the crowd, I ran like never before, buoyed by the blood-rush of old vampire blood.
And euphoric that I’d broke Alan’s vampire empire to smithereens.
He had taken my old life from me, and I had returned the favor a thousand fold.
When I stopped for breath, I must have been a hundred miles away.
Going All Corporate
The next day, we headed off to Unicorps Headquarters and arrived at the laboratories of the Transperian Research Division. As soon as we went through the first set of double doors, Dave pulled me aside. “This is where we part company, Lyman.”
I swallowed.
“There’s still time to change your mind. The next Helsing in the rotation would take your place.”
I gave myself an internal shake. “It’s okay, Dave. I want to do this.”
We were met by an oriental man, maybe forty-ish.
He bowed, slightly. “David, how is everything?”
“It’s fine, Hideo.” He motioned me forward. “Lyman, this is Hideo.” We bowed to each other. Man I felt as nervous as a kitten.
“I will be performing the execution with you this morning,” He said in his heavily accented English. “Please to follow me.”
I waved a lame goodbye to Mary-Christine, and followed Hideo down some more corridors. He made no attempt at conversation as we walked.
Eventually, we arrived in a changing room.
“Lyman, here we change into black shirts for the ceremony.” He indicated a pile of clean, ironed polo shirts. “Just pick the correct size.”
Once I’d donned the shirt, he came over with a mic and black box. “The transmitter is clipped on the trousers, the mic is fed up through the shirt to the collar.”
“Okay.” I got on with the arrangement. I found that his business-like delivery actually relaxed me.
“Switch on.” He pressed his switch and I did mine. “Hideo, sound check.”
“Sounds good from here,” The speakers of the PA system gave me a start. Hideo nodded to me.
“Eh, Lyman here, sound check.”
“Sounds good, gentlemen,”
We switched the boxes off, then we moved through another double door into a small laboratory.
“We have to use masks and a filter system. We still don’t know the long term effects of the vampire dust, so we do not take any risks with possible contamination. We check it all here.”
Hideo showed me how to properly fit the mask, and how to check it. He then went through the whole procedure again to check his.
Once Hideo felt satisfied that I was up to the task, we took the masks off again.
“Lyman, it is my pleasure to perform this execution with you.” I nodded, not really knowing what to say. “Lyman, now you must chose. Do you want to place the stake? Or do you want to deliver the hammer blow?”
Oh my. The truth suddenly dawned. In a few minutes I was about to drive a wooden stake through the heart of a living creature.
“What do you suggest?”
“Okay, I explain. The man who positions the stake announces the victim, gives the age. The man who delivers the hammer strike, just hammers. That’s all.”
My decision was easy. Not being accustomed to public speaking, I took the easy option.
I decided to deliver the hammer blow that would send Jim Creary into oblivion.
I stood in Mexico before the cops had a chance to draw a chalk outline around Alan’s body. Sure, just a dirty little refrigerator box of a town, but far away from Everton. Far away from vampires, and far, far away from my past.
I’d whizzed through a few stores on the way, grabbing what I needed, far too fast to be seen or show up on their cameras.
I felt anonymous. When I told the locals I was twenty-three and taking a year off from college to travel, nobody questioned me. Of course how could they question me? They didn’t understand hardly anything I said.
I used my super-speed to do a little robbery, nothing too big, but enough that I had enough cash to live.
Less than a week after marking my new home territory, I found this really hot Mexican guy named Juan and we shacked up for a while. He spoke just enough English for us to get by; but, it totally didn’t matter ‘cause we spent most of our time doing it.
For the first time in so long, I felt like I could have some kind of life again. I was happier than I’d been in months and had no regrets for ripping Alan McCartney’s throat out in front of God and everyone.
If I could have kept my appetite under control, then I probably could have lived there for years before Juan or anybody started to question why I never looked any older. But, living off whatever rodents you can catch in the fields wouldn’t sustain me for long.
Once, when me and Juan were really getting hot and heavy and I was starving for a good, bloody meal, I got so carried away that I bit it. Yes “it”…not “him.” Clean off. So, that ended that relationship and I was out o
n my butt.
On the run, living on my wits again.
I did okay for a couple more weeks until this farmer discovered me killing off one of his goats. They thought I was some kind of Mexican demon and a whole village chased me down with burning torches. I’m not making this up - this really happened!
So, I did the lone vampire scavenger thing. I hated it and didn’t prove very good at not getting caught. The next thing I knew, it seemed all of Mexico wanted my head on a platter.
Turns out Jackson had been right, after all. A vampire needs a family. I figured at that point, Jackson was pretty much the only option for family I had left. Of course, Alan had decapitated his foster parents just to make a point to me so I wasn’t sure if he’d even want me around. So, it took me a few weeks to make up my mind to go back.
When it started to get like, brutally cold that’s when I decided to heck with it.
I had to go home.
I hitched down this strip of rarely traveled road when a very helpful man pulled up to give me a ride.
“Hi,” he flashed me a grin. “My name’s Pablo.”
Hideo proved superb. We went through every stage of the ceremony, every footfall, every position we took round the table. Even through an evacuation contingency if the vampire broke loose.
“It never happens,” Hideo promised me. “But we must have all avenues planned.”
We crossed to a curtained area. Behind the white material lay a table on which lay a hammer, a stake, and a dummy body, tied down.
“Take a moment, Lyman. Gather your thoughts. This is the exact same table that Jim is tied to. The handle of the hammer is African hardwood. The large head is solid stainless steel.” He handed it to me. “Feel how it is balanced. Get used to the weight.”
It looked like a small version of a Thor hammer, but the head was the wrong shape; not quite square enough.
I swung it back and forth. It felt a bit heavier than a framing hammer, but because of the heavy handle, balanced quite nicely, while being slightly weighted to the head.
“The swing is vitally important. The head of the hammer is larger than the top of the spike. We don’t want you to miss and hit my hand!” We grinned together.
He positioned the stake on the dummy. “Swing.”
With a deep breath, I swung the hammer. Bam. Right on target, but the stake did not go all the way down. Hideo pulled it out again.
“Again, harder this time.”
Bam. And I felt the stake hit the table.
“That’s good, but now after the kill, we hit one more time. The stake must be imbedded into the table; the vampire must slide past it.”
I remembered the last two executions; always two hammer strikes.
So we tried the whole thing, three, four times. Then we tilted the table, and I got used to swinging the hammer at a forty-five degree angle.
“Remember, Lyman. This is not a young man we are killing. This is a parasite that has taken over his body.” He looked at a small page of notes. “As far as we can tell, the young man was originally turned in 1989. His mind is long dead. His soul has lived in pain and suffering for twenty-three years. We now kill the body.”
I nodded. “I get it, Hideo. Thank you.”
I felt a bit like Ralph Macchio in the Karate Kid, weird, but calming at the same time.
Wax on, wax off.
Hideo showed me the stake. “This is also African hardwood, almost as strong as steel.”
The pointy end was very pointy.
“Gentlemen, when you are ready, everyone is here.”
Then I realized that Hideo had been just putting off time, waiting on the audience to arrive. The wily fox. Despite the circumstances, I grinned.
“It is time, Lyman Bracks. Follow me.”
With my mask in my hand, I followed Hideo through yet another double door.
When it opened in front of us, we walked into the high-ceilinged laboratory. It was obviously the same one used before, but now I looked up, rather than a visitor, looking down.
I was actually surprised just how high the viewing windows were, I had to crane my neck to see. Mary-Christine stood there, Dave, Roni, all silhouetted against the light behind them.
“You bastards!” My head snapped around to the table. On the large wooden slab, Jim lay, bound tightly, naked but for a pair of shorts.
There were no trace of the bullets that I’d put in his chest, and his face looked totally healed.
One leather collar held his neck, and there were three each on his arms and legs. One thick belt held his waist. Even though he struggled hard against the bonds, his body was solidly held, flattened to the table.
“You’ll get yours, you fucking red headed prick!” he screamed at me.
As Hideo spoke, Creary fell suddenly silent. The arrogance immediately replaced by abject fear. “We are here to witness the execution of James William Creary. Turned in 1989.” Hideo began to put on his mask.
As I did the same, I noticed the hammer standing up on the floor beside the table.
We checked each other’s masks, then Hideo turned the large wheel on his side of the table. Slowly, the whole thing tilted forward.
As per Hideo’s instructions, I positioned a large blue rectangular bin at the end of the table. To collect the debris.
Jim continually shook his head. He turned to me, crying, trembling. “There’s still time, Red. You don’t have to kill me. Think of Alan. What would he think of his friend now?”
I considered that probably the worst thing he could have said to me. Resisting the impulse to speak back, I just smiled slightly, and picked up the hammer.
Holding it in two hands, I waited on Hideo.
From his side, he picked up the stake.
Polished African hardwood.
I then noticed a small ‘x’ marked on Jim’s chest in black Sharpie. Man, these people think of everything.
Hideo jabbed the stake onto Jim’s chest, and the vampire went ballistic.
He suddenly shook his head frantically from side to side.
“NO!”
Hideo nodded to me.
I raised the hammer, and with one almighty swing, hit the stake smack in the middle, driving it through his heart. There was one single last convulsion, and Jim was dead.
But my job was not finished.
I readied myself for one more blow, then slammed the stake hard into the table, where it jarred and shook.
We both stepped back.
I had seen this before, but never from so close, and still I couldn’t believe what happened before my very eyes.
Jim’s skin slowly began to putrefy, drying out in rapid time, then it slipped into his ribcage, past his leg bones. It kinda rustled, and sounded like small raindrops as the pieces fell into the plastic bucket.
His face just collapsed in on itself, and slowly but surely, he fell apart, dropping bones, flesh, shorts and powdered Jim Creary, into the blue box on the floor.
Not quite as spectacular as Avery Peterson, but he’d been a hundred years old.
When I lifted my end of the box, I was surprised the box proved so light; hardly any weight at all, and Hideo and I took it through a doorway, out of the lab, and out of sight of the spectators.
A large furnace stood in the center of the room.
We placed the box at the door and pushed it inside.
Hideo closed the door, then took his mask off.
“Nonhazardous,” Hideo said, and for the first time since I’d met the man, he smiled, then bowed to me. “Thank you, Lyman – this is my first time. I was nervous.”
I laughed. “No shit.”
We drove the whole night and into the next day to get across the border and all the way back to Everton. Pablo looked a little sketchy to say the least. The guy at the border checked his paperwork like six times but still didn’t seem to believe he was on the level. I think that’s why Pablo had picked me up in the first place. I mean, more chance of getting over the border with an American
citizen. Of course, I didn’t mention the part where I was also a vampire and a country-wide APB and manhunt out for me…for murder.
Somehow, though, they let us cross.
Pablo sat silent most of the way, obviously not a big talker and that was fine by me. I didn’t want him asking any questions that might be hard to answer truthfully. We’d barely gotten to the very outskirts of Everton - into this really seedy part of town - when he spoke to me for the first time in hours.
“You hungry, Mihas?”
It would have been strange if I’d said no. I mean, driving all day, nothing to eat; any human should have been famished.
“Starving,”
Pablo’s English was a bit broken but not bad. I could tell he’d been in the States before.
“What’s a good place?”
“I don’t really know this side of town…”
“No problem. Anywhere you wanna go - just name it.”
Instantly I thought of Jonna’s - the little diner close to Everton High that made the best broccoli-cheese soup on the planet. But, then I figured it wasn’t really in my best interest to go anywhere I’d be recognized.
Then I noticed a dive-looking Mexican joint just coming up on the left. I pointed for Pablo to pull in there even though I was pretty sure the place should have been condemned by the health department.
Pablo pulled up to the restaurant and parked the car.
“Los Charros? What’s up, amiga? You can’t get enough Mexican food?”
I paid him a courtesy laugh and followed him inside. Pablo turned out to be nearly as quiet during lunch as he’d been throughout our long drive. But, he ate quickly and we were in and out of the public eye without my getting pegged as a wanted felon.
“Where to now, Amiga?” he asked as we got back in the car.
It still wasn’t dark. My plan had been to have Pablo drop me virtually on Jackson’s doorstep once night had fallen. We were like an hour ahead of schedule.