by Ian Hall
So, I sat on my own for the first time in ages, silence and loneliness all around me. I sank three quick shots of tequila and went to bed.
Although the morning seemed to come too quickly, I felt refreshed and ready to start my new life. Secret Transperian Agent Lyman Bracks, licensed to kill vampires. I quickly set down to work my list of things-to-do.
First, set up an appointment with Doctor Marc Brennan at Unicorps for meds and coagulant. Done. Today, two p.m.
Next, contact Mandy. She sounded fine, working on her new ‘contact’, whatever that meant. I told her I’d be in Harris no later than the day after tomorrow.
With trembling fingers, I phoned Mary-Christine, but her phone went straight to voicemail. “Hi, Mary-Christine. It’s Lyman. I’m back in town, and we should talk.” I decided to leave it there, considering she’d probably never get the message anyway.
Contact the administration at Gregor Academy, get my schoolwork sent to me.
Get through the considerable mail that sat piled high at the door.
It seemed a pain in the ass, coming back to a plain, ordinary existence after such a whirlwind extended weekend, but ordinary had to be done.
I cleaned out the fridge, put out the trash; I did a whole morning of ‘normal’.
I even went shopping. Wal-Mart had everything I needed, including the basics to restock fridge and freezer. I couldn’t see myself being much of a cook, I simply didn’t have time for it, so I grabbed a few frozen dinners for two, reckoning that the size would be fine for me.
Next came the shoe store; I mean, a guy has to change sneakers when his old ones are bloodstained, doesn’t he?
‘Buy one Pair, get one Free’ the sign said, so I did the unbelievable thing; I found one pair of black sneakers that were as comfortable as all get-out, and bought six pairs. Black doesn’t show bloodstains badly; I knew what my future held.
I grabbed lunch at a Chinese buffet, and set off for Unicorps to see Doctor Brennan.
I felt kinda awkward seeing him, considering his relationship with Dave Muscat, but as he approached the reception desk to meet me, he smiled broadly.
“Afternoon, Lyman.”
“Doctor.”
He led me down the corridors to his office.
“Mr. Weeks told me that you’d be my contact here in Gregor.”
He nodded. “That’s right, I’ve got a month’s supply of meds ready for you, and the coagulant darts you needed.”
I took a breath, and just blurted, “I feel awkward, Doctor, about Dave Muscat.”
Brennan grimaced. “He took it bad, and you’ve got to assume that he’s not on your Christmas card list anymore. There’s talk of a transfer, and he’ll probably go for it. I obviously don’t know all the details, but it’s pretty plain that he screwed up. He’d been involved in the project for many years.”
“Yeah. You’ve got to know that there wasn’t much else I could do.”
“I understand. We’re all professionals here, and personnel come and go.”
I just bobbed my head up and down for a second, and it seemed the subject seemed closed.
Brennan picked up a large envelope from his desk. “I had a look at the data from Chicago; your blood test came back a bit weird, and I want to take a sample here and compare the two.”
“Weird?”
“Well, we’re looking at miniscule amounts of change here, and there is a possibility that the two machines are slightly out of calibration, so having a second test done from here will help me shed some light.”
So I gave blood again, and he left the room for a moment to take it to the lab.
I looked at the sheets, but neither the figures nor the text meant much to me. It looked weird to see the Grundec Systems and the V-Nemesis names at the top. To have actually been assigned to the facility made me feel like a little more part of the team.
Brennan returned with a black hold-all. “Darts, meds. Couple of new V-pistols, seems there’s been an upgrade, I don’t know anything about it, you’d better test them first before you go back into the field.”
He handed me the bag. “Are we done?” I asked.
“Nope, I have one department to take you to.”
He led the way, I followed. “Where are we going?”
“We have to set you up with comms, and introduce you to the ‘cleaner’.”
“That sounds ominous.”
“Innocuous, more like.”
When we got to his office, I recognized ‘the cleaner’ immediately. “Clint Eastwood,” I said, with a hint of a smile on my face. “You took Jim Creary’s body away.”
“The same,” he grinned real wide. “I go by Clint all the time, even here. I’ve got cards printed and everything; saves anyone from knowing the real name; too risky in my work.” His smile seemed genuine.
“Man, it seems so long ago.”
“But it was only last month,” Clint said.
Wow. I had hit my first vampire, seen my parents killed, I’d died, came back to life, and only a month or so had passed.
I set out for Harris almost immediately. Figuring I’d be staying a while, I didn’t monkey with getting into a hotel. Instead, I found a small studio apartment in this old lady’s basement; Mrs. Daltry. No windows, except three shoebox-looking things that were covered up by boards on the outside. The “kitchen” was little more than a basin and hotplate. It smelled stuffy, looked ugly, and the unpainted sheetrock had been marred with huge nail holes. Judging by the thick bushes of pet hair balled up all over the mattress, I’d say the person before me had a sheepdog or something…possibly a llama.
But, it did have a three-quarters bath (no tub, just a shower) and came complete with futon, card table, two metal folding chairs, and a walk-out to the backyard, which led directly to an alley. So, in a way, it turned out to be exactly the kind of place I always figured I’d start out with. Except, of course, in those daydreams I attended college, roomed with Cami, and still had a pulse.
“You look a little young to be out on your own,” Mrs. Daltry had said to me. I evaded answering her.
Then I handed her a stack of cash - first and last month’s rent, plus deposit. That seemed enough to quell her curiosity right there, but then I went the extra step and flashed my shiny new Arizona driver’s license.
With a little help from Reynolds, I had a whole new identity: Lizzy Wilde, age 20. “Lizzy” had been my idea; from my middle name Elizabeth. My grandparents on my mother’s side used to call me that when I was little. The name had kind of died with them but now (like me) it had been resurrected.
“Wilde” had been Reynolds’s pick - he said it suited me. And it was only my name on paper, so I didn’t care much one way or the other.
Once I got settled (which basically meant putting my keys down) I got to work planning my attack on Harris High. First things first - I needed to find out if the Mize brothers were still in town. Scoping out the school was one option, but would have to wait until tomorrow; it had already turned four o’clock.
I also needed to check on Chris anyway, way overdue. So, I got myself unsettled (picked up my keys) and headed down to Seventh Street and the Cloverleaf Hardware Store.
Good luck was shining down on me today. Chris worked behind the counter and appeared to be alone. I hesitated only long enough to take a big, calming breath and headed inside.
The store had been put back to rights and you’d never have guessed it been turned upside down the last time I’d seen it. Chris looked busy stocking the key rack and didn’t look up until I reached the counter.
“Hey, stranger…” I said, trying to sound bubbly.
Chris stopped his busywork and paid me a sideways glance. Then went right back to the keys.
“Aren’t you even gonna talk to me?”
He still didn’t look up. “Not sure what you want me to say.”
“‘Hello’ would be a good start.”
Chris smirked. “I was thinking more in the lines of ‘goodbye’.”<
br />
So much for my good luck. But, I had no regrets; by the smell, I knew for sure Chris was still human. Now that I was back in town, I would do all I could to keep him that way. Human and alive. Good enough. He didn’t have to like me, too.
“I’m sorry I made you hate me,” I said and turned around.
I got all the way to the exit before Chris stopped me.
“Dallas!”
He came around the counter and made his way up to me. I got this chill up my spine, feeling like the female lead in some bad romance novel.
“I don’t hate you…I just…” Chris shook his head, searching for words. “I mean, one day you show up, warning me about my friends and all this crazy shit that’s supposedly going on at school. You say you’ll explain it all later - then you just…vanish into thin air!”
I started to state my case, but he ran right over me. Looked like he’d been building this moment up in his head for a while.
“Coincidently, the Mize brothers vanish, too. It’s a little peculiar if you ask me.”
“They’re gone?”
I think I sounded way too excited. Chris gave me this funny look, like I’d just farted in front of him.
“Yeah, Dallas. Disappeared the same time you did.”
“That’s good, Chris - those guys weren’t your friends. They’re not anybody’s friends.”
“That’s what you’re telling me, but you won’t say why.”
I began to wish I’d never paid this visit. Chris obviously expected a Come-to-Jesus conversation; I’d been stupid enough to think he’d be so glad to see me again, that we’d just lock up the shop and make out in the back room.
Of course, then I’d have to explain the missing teeth. I hadn’t thought this one out at all…
Then. Saved by the bell. A customer, holding some kind of plastic tube like a snake, stumbled through the door.
“Plumbing supplies?” he asked, obviously as lost in a hardware store as I would be.
Chris motioned to a sign. “Aisle four.”
The man held up the tube, which had a crack the size of the Grand Canyon running through it. “Got any of these doo-hickies?”
“I’ll be right with you, sir.” Chris delivered the promise with his usual, charismatic smile.
I’d swear half the block lit up because of it.
“Listen, Dallas…”
“We’ll talk later.”
Smile gone, “How much later?”
“Tomorrow.”
“I’ll be working until eight-fifteen. Meet me here after closing,” he said.
“Deal.”
“And no bullshit. I want the whole story. The truth.”
I nodded like my neck had turned to noodle. “You got it. The truth.”
“No lies,” he said emphatically. “I fucking HATE being lied to…”
“Understood,” I agreed with a salute.
The smile came back.
“Before you go – I’ve GOT to know your name.”
I could only muster a half-smile then. “Lizzy,” I told him. “Lizzy Wilde.”
We Split Up; Two Investigations
My one day of normality had spread into two quite easily. I awoke quite early and tore into sorting through the Helsing Diaries again. With the main man out of the picture, it all needed tidying back into folders. As I packed it away, I became surprised how little work the original investigator had put into the organization around Amos himself.
Most of the entries in the actual diaries were concerned directly with Amos, and he rarely mentioned the underlings. I wasn’t sure, but I began to think the usefulness of the information had already passed. I gave it most of the morning, but came up empty.
I had a couple of TV dinners, and while watching the news on television, I suddenly had an idea. Every single vampire at Gregor Academy had been a senior. Every single one. Why?
I missed my meds on purpose, in case my idea had any traction.
I phoned Mandy.
“Hi, stranger. What’s up?”
“I’ve got a theory, and I want to see if holds water.” I got straight to the point. “The Mize twins? Were they seniors?”
“Yeah, I think so, why?”
“Nothing so far. See if you can find out which college they are going to. And for that matter, any other vampires in Harris.”
“Actually, the Mize thugs have kind of vanished off the face of the planet. When are you coming over?”
“Okay…then whoever else you can get a line on. I want the year of school they’re in, and the college.”
“Okay, Sherlock, I’ll see what I turn up.”
“I’ll be over soon. I have a few loose ends to tie up first. I may take a little trip to Buckeye or New River.”
“You be careful. Or even better, take Reynolds with you.”
“Yeah, he can be my dad.”
“Seriously.”
“I know, take care of myself. Look, gotta go. If you need me, I’ll be there in a couple of hours. I won’t be doing something I can’t put down right away.”
“Okay.”
“Bye.”
The idea of taking Reynolds did appeal to me, but not yet; I had to test the water first.
The note took me a little by surprise; sitting in the mailbox, beside all the usual crap. Mary-Christine’s handwriting. I opened it fast, dropping the rest of the mail in a pile on the floor.
Lyman,
Hope you’re having a better time than me.
My dad’s been suspended from work, pending an investigation, and I’m under such scrutiny I can’t get near you. They won’t even let me say your name. We’re packing stuff in case we have to move, not like clothes, but other loose junk. I don’t want to go.
My dad is by my side every single moment. He drives me to and from school. It’s awful.
I love you. Take care.
Mary-Christine
I put Mary-Christine’s letter in my pocket and hit the road. We had established four centers of ‘disappearances’ early in our investigations; Harris, New River, Buckeye, and Gregor, obviously.
Since Mandy was already in Harris, I chose New River simply because it the nearer of the uncharted ones. Two hours later, I sat parked outside the high school. Small, rural, certainly not the biggest in the world. I decided to go straight for the office.
A short, smiling Hispanic woman sat behind the counter. “Hi, how can I help you?”
“Hi. I’m a senior from Flagstaff, and my parents are splitting up, and I’m coming down here with my mom. There’s a few areas in Phoenix we’re looking at. I need to know about the school, and what the options are for college. I don’t know Phoenix at all.”
Well, I got the school portfolio, and a list of afterschool clubs. Then I got the senior hangout; Bo’s coffee shop on Fifth Street.
Two lattes later, I had pushed the investigation no further at all. For some reason, I’d thought I just had to turn up, and have a few sniffs at the air, and vampires would waft past me. It wasn’t working out that way. I was about to give up when a couple walked into the coffee shop. They were somehow older-looking, high school colors, but there seemed something ‘different’ about them. Like the old Beatles song, ‘Something in the Way She Moves.’
I watched them over my magazine then I chose my moment to go to the restroom; walked right past their backs, big sniff - vampires. The girl had definitely Latino bloodlines, the boy maybe a little, but they made a good-looking couple. Typical vampire targets, then I had another epiphany; why hadn’t I just gone looking for the best looking girls in town? The cheerleaders.
I wasn’t starting the detective lark in great shape.
I followed the couple outside and tailed their instantly recognizable bright yellow Volkswagen Beetle. It didn’t matter if I lost them in traffic. The car was a dead giveaway; I’d find it in seconds in such a small town.
The girl drove, and let the guy out pretty quickly, then drove to another house. So I got two addresses on the edge of town.
I decided to watch the girl’s house (duh) and settled down in my car, binoculars on my lap.
Lyman had given me my assignment for the day. My meeting with Chris wasn’t until late evening and I wanted to have something to report long before then. I decided for another random turn-up in at the Harris High cafeteria.
The weather had gone into a dry spell, so there were a lot more kids outside, braving the chill. I found Chris sitting outdoors on a picnic-type table with Tory and a bunch of other chicks circling him like buzzards. He had his head in a book, shunning them all.
I took special note of a guy sitting alone on a bench, up against the fence line. Baseball cap, turned backwards. Thin, pale skin. Most notably - no eyebrows.
“Bald Eagle,” I reminded myself.
He wasn’t eating; a notebook lay across his knees and he made a poor imitation of writing in it while stealing occasional glances over at Chris. If I hadn’t known better (which, of course, I didn’t) I’d swear “Eagle” was brooding like some jilted lover. He seemed quite intent on finding some opportunity to draw Chris’s attention.
I stayed back, out of the line of sight, and just observed. With all the activity around the quad, my vampire sense wasn’t exactly going nuts. I figured Eagle, therefore, to be unaware of me. My biggest obstacle was getting to him without Chris spotting me. Now seemed no time for that long, in-depth discussion.
Once the bell rang, I hid in plain sight - mixing with a crush of kids migrating toward the classrooms. Eagle’s cap made him a pretty easy mark and I ended up not more than a few steps behind him. As he made a quick pit stop at his locker, I hung close.
Another bell later, the halls were all but completely clear. I shimmied up to Eagle’s locker, twisted the dial, and listened as the combination fell in place with each little “click.” With no clue as to what I hoped to find, I helped myself to every folder and loose scrap of paper I could get my hands on. I closed the locker, and just that easy, made my way back to the car.
On opening page one, I was struck immediately by one glaring fact: this Eagle dude seemed to be an effing genius. Seemed he’d mastered everything from chemistry to trigonometry and whatever else lies between. Skimming through a large sketchpad, I also found him quite the artist.