Vampire Cabbie

by Fred Schepartz

  “‘Greta lit a cigarette and took a deep drag. She nodded thoughtfully in what looked like agreement. Then, she told me about the time when she was a teenager, and her parents were gone for the weekend, and she walked into their bedroom around dusk and saw something standing in the room. She said she knows it was really there, but can never be certain because she was so frightened she sprinted out of the house to a neighbor’s as fast as she could.

  “‘I really like Greta and felt really grateful until I realized she was talking way too loud, and that asshole Jon overheard and came over by us to give us a bunch of shit.

  “‘Jon told Greta her eyes were just playing tricks. Greta responded by blowing smoke in his face. Jon, in an exaggerated motion, waved the smoke away from his face and called her a flake. Greta called Jon arrogant and pig-headed. Then Jack, another friend who’d been shooting stick with Jon, stepped between the two. He grabbed a smoke from Greta’s pack that was sitting on the bar, lit it and glared at me through a cloud of smoke, thanking me for sharing my experience with them so the thing will come after all of us and not just me. His voice dripped with sarcasm. Everyone laughed, even Greta.

  “‘I hesitated, then joined the laughter. Embarrassed, yes. I shut up, let the conversation meander elsewhere, let the subject drop and just pretended to forget about the whole thing.

  “‘Just pretended, but I just couldn’t stop thinking about that creature. I thought about it until bar time. I thought about it on the way home. Thought about it while watching a little TV before bed.

  “‘Then, I dreamed about it. Dreamt I was driving back from Janesville in old sixty-six. Dead of night, real dark—pitch black, clear, crisp, chilly night, bare sliver of a moon and a sky full of stars. I was driving sixty-six down the highway. Miles and miles, and there were no other cars around. Just me. Then, I saw a shimmering in the distance. I punched the gas and closed in on the shimmering, which began taking shape.

  “‘Then, I was right behind the thing. Well, not exactly right behind it. I was in the left lane, and there it was, right there in the median, running, its two legs a yellow blur. I sped up and pulled within twenty feet of the thing so it was actually in my headlights. I could see it had a head like a bowling ball sitting atop an otherwise slender body. And it was human-shaped, like some guy in a rubber suit.

  “‘But I only saw its back. I tried speeding up, but sixty-six just couldn’t seem to go any faster, just couldn’t get close enough to see more than the creature’s backside. Then, I woke up. This is really weird.’”

  “Pretty fucking bizarre,” Nicole said, having seen that I had finished the first entry. “Amazing how obsessed the guy got. Did you actually do this to him, or was he just a ticking, nutty-nut time-bomb waiting to explode?”

  “Perhaps, a little of both.”

  “Hmm.” She finished her tea and grabbed the diary. “Do you have any more. This is real nice.”

  “Certainly.” I took her cup and went to the kitchen to make more tea.

  “Hey, listen to this,” she shouted. “Fuckin’ weird. He keeps dreaming about this stupid thing, but never gets a good look until this one night: ‘Then, I floored it and was actually able to pull even with the thing. Hell, there it was, running right alongside the cab. I could see it did look like a guy in a yellow rubber suit, but there was no bulge between its legs. And its head was shaped just like a bowling ball, but smooth with no nose or mouth and only round bits of coal for eyes, like some really abominable snow-dude.

  “‘Weird thing though, I drove alongside the thing for a couple miles, and it just ignored me. I stared at it, hell, admired it, the way its slender legs were a blur of motion, like Wile E. Coyote when he stumbles off a cliff and tries to run back to terra firma.

  “‘But I didn’t want to be ignored! I tapped the horn. Leaned on the mother. For what felt like forever.

  “‘It turned, and I saw what I’d thought was an expressionless face, but it wasn’t. Those simple, black button eyes seemed to stare through me, vaguely transmitting a feeling of being pissed off.

  “‘Suddenly, I was wide awake, sitting bolt upright in bed, my stomach muscles so tight they hurt. Something tells me there’s something a little abnormal about this, but I know it’s real. I just wish there was a way to find out.’”

  I leaned against the refrigerator waiting for the water to boil, wondering about the creature he described, hoping it was not what it seemed it might be.

  “How long does he have those dreams?” I shouted.

  “For awhile, then they come true,” Nicole answered. “Apparently, the cab company had retired sixty-six. Good riddance, that thing was a death trap. Anyway, he was able to buy it when old cabs were auctioned off, then he went out searching for the thing, just like in his dream. Geez, this guy can wax poetic. Listen to this. ‘With the night off and it being black as pitch even in the city, with just a bare sliver of a moon and the black velvet sky pierced everywhere by millions of pinholes of light, I decided it would be a good night to go hunting for the creature.

  “‘When I maneuvered sixty-six out of the city, the sky opened to absolute crystal clarity, and the stars layered themselves so thickly that the constellations themselves were obscured. The night itself was like tar, sucking, hell, devouring the paltry glow of my headlights, as if it were laughing at me for trying to light up the road ten feet in front of me.

  “‘It felt just like the dream. Somewhere around Edgerton and I was thinking it strange that I hadn’t seen another vehicle for several miles. Then, I saw something shimmer a bit at the end of the horizon. I punched the accelerator and watched the gas gauge and speedometer needles lurch in opposite directions.

  “‘At first, the shimmer seemed to stay at the edge of my sight, but as six-six lumbered forward faster and faster, the shimmer finally seemed to get closer.

  “‘Up ahead, I watched the shimmer disappear over a steep rise. Double-six followed, struggling up the summit, then hurtling down the other side. The road leveled, and six-six steadied at a cool 80 miles per, shaking a bit, creaking like the bulkheads in those shipwreck movies, but hugging the road tight.

  “‘And there it was, just a few hundred yards ahead, running on the wide, grassy median. I let up on the gas slightly and moved into the left lane for a closer look.

  “‘The creature’s luminescence made it visible, plain as day, revealing to me uniform yellow-white skin, covering a smooth, symmetrical body with that perfect, bowling ball head.

  “‘I punched the gas, pulled even with the thing and drove alongside for awhile, but the creature would speed up, and sixty-six, not to let some alien kick her ass, matched its speed. Yeah, maybe the creature could run like an organic super-conductor, but sixty-six packs a vee-eight, three-sixty with a four-barrel carb. And a Smith and Wesson sure as shit beats four aces.

  “‘We played this game of chase, while the creature also played a game of pretending I wasn’t there, until it finally turned its head toward me, showing me eyes, but no real face—no nose and only wrinkles converging where a mouth would be.

  “‘But those eyes, those blank, black coal eyes spoke clearly to me, saying yes, I’m pissed off.

  “‘It stared, and I stared back, feeling its message but unable to turn away.

  “‘And almost not noticing the sharp curve in the road. Sixty-six almost flew into a ditch. As it was, I flew into the far right lane and cut the wheel barely in time. When I finally straightened the car, the creature was gone.’”

  I handed Nicole the cup of tea, and she took a tentative sip, her throat obviously parched after her recitation.

  “Here, let me have a look at that,” I said.

  “Sure. That thing gives me the creeps, and your light and airy look here doesn’t help make me any less creeped out.”

  Indeed! Regardless if the creature was real or merely a product of Frank’s imagination, either alternative was frightening, especially to the uninitiated. I started reading where Nicole had stopped:


  “‘Well, if there was any doubt about what I saw that first night on the way back from Janesville , it was gone. This time, it was there plain as day. But now, it was gone, and double-six was rushing us to the next exit. Nothing to do but go home, hit the hay and think of what to do next. Maybe mount a camera on sixty-six, take pix of the thing, show Mister Empiricist Jon, sell them to the supermarket tabloids for big bucks.

  “‘My mind was reeling with infinite possibilities when, with about two miles between us and the next exit, I saw a distant shimmering up ahead. Then, not so distant and not shimmering, but a glowing blob, glowing and growing, getting bigger and bigger as sixty-six gobbled up the road in front of me.

  “‘I eased up on the gas. Watched the blob rush toward me, take definition. Sprout one, two legs. Arms. A head. Coal eyes growing larger, larger, until the road, the night disappeared, and nothing but glowing yellow and huge black circles filled the windshield.

  “‘I slammed on the brakes, felt the back-end fish-tail. An inhuman squeal filled the air. Was it me or the screeching tires?

  “‘And the entire car was engulfed by glowing yellow. A chill like dry ice passed over me so quickly I hardly felt it, but I did, and a memory of it stuck, like the way dry ice peels skin off bones.

  “‘Then nothing. Just me and old sixty-six sitting stationary out there alone in the blackness, no sound except six-six’s steady chug-chugging and my pounding heart.

  “‘Treat a good cab like a lady and she’ll always get you home. Like any good cab, double-six kept her head, found the next exit, turned us around and took us back toward town at a nice, safe sixty miles per hour.

  “‘In defensive driving, they train you to check the rear view mirror a couple times per minute, even when there’s no other vehicles on the road, even all alone on a nice, private little highway, nothing but me and good old sixty-six.

  “‘And some glowing creature out there someplace.

  “‘I checked the rear view mirror. Nothing. I stared at the road ahead. Nothing. Well, road and darkness and trees mostly bare, almost all their leaves torn off by a sharp December wind.

  “‘Headlights from behind sparkled in the rear view mirror. I glanced up. Not a pair of headlights! A single, Cyclopean eye sparkling from the distance! Shimmering, splintering into a thousand filaments with a light at the end of each.

  “‘The shimmering mass grew as I watched. I punched the gas, checked the mirror, studied the shimmer.

  “‘Floored it. I heard a thump, felt six-six shudder, then roar! She obeyed, responded to my will, propelling me forward as I watched the shimmer in the mirror shrink. Then grow! First, the same size as before, then bigger, just a little bigger, still like radioactive tentacles, still not big enough for me to tell what the hell they were.

  “‘With that Police Intercepter engine opened full throttle, we were flying, sixty-six guiding us forward while I watched our backs, waiting for the shimmering to make its move.

  “‘Light flashed in front of me. The shimmer was just a diversion. A pair of shimmers in front. Bright red eyes glowering at me. Eyes!

  “‘No! Taillights. Impact coming!

  “‘I cut the wheel sharply to the left. Swerved, passed and flew onto the left shoulder. Barely enough time to brake and cut the wheel to the right to keep from flying off the road. The trucker honked as I eased to a stop. I glanced over in time to see him flip me off.

  “‘There was this screaming inside my head. I looked ahead at the lights of town. The stars were invisible, washed away by the lights of civilization. And the rear view mirror—well it was dark, the shimmer gone. Gone, but it was there. But was it still there and just hidden or was it just hiding for now? Was it scared of civilization—our civilization—or did it use civilization as camouflage?

  “‘I drove home slowly. It was three-thirty in the morning when I finally parked good ol’ six-six. The adrenaline finally gone, I was worn out. What do I do now? Well, there wasn’t anything to do until morning, and I was beat, so I stripped, hit the lights and crawled under the covers, for awhile fidgeting and shifting, trying to find the warm spot in the bed while waiting for the electric blanket to kick in.

  “‘Almost asleep, then a chill washed over me, pulling my shoulders up to my ears. I curled into a tighter ball, pulled the covers tighter about me. Then, I felt the chill again.

  “‘A chill and something telling me to look toward the window. I’d try to ignore it, but the chill began settling into my bones, turning into a dull ache. And my head was buzzing with a voice that wasn’t mine, telling me, telling me to look, look, look toward the window.

  “‘I turned, opened my eyes and looked toward the window.

  “‘And there it was, glowing and glaring, that bowling ball head and those coal eyes staring at me.

  “‘I backed up, pulled the covers up to my chest, until my back struck the wall. My breath left me like I’d been punched in the stomach.

  “‘I’d say I opened my mouth to scream, but nothing came out. I’d say I stared, too paralyzed, too frozen to move ’cuz the cold was freezing me inside and out. I’d say all that stuff, but it’s so damn clichéd!

  “‘So, I’ll just say I finally sat up, then leaped off the bed, sprinted across my little efficiency, scooped up the phone, dived into the bathroom and slammed the door.

  “‘There’s no windows in the bathroom.

  “‘Damn near hyperventilating, I picked up the phone and called the cab company. My hand was shaking so much, it took several tries to get the right number. Finally, I heard the Dexter’s voice on the other end. Reality! I settled a bit.

  “‘I was glad it was Dexter. He’s one of the more sane and competent of our dispatchers.

  “‘I tried to sound calm, but I could hear my voice shaking. I told him I thought there was something outside my window and asked him if he could send a cab over to take a quick look. He said sure and put me on hold.

  “‘I just said ten-four and fought the urge to tell him to hurry. Instead, I just held the phone, squeezed it in my hand just to feel the hard plastic dig into my soft flesh, while yanking some slack out of the phone cord so I could stretch the line far enough to allow me to sit on the toilet seat, pressing the phone to my ear, listening to the silence, my eyes darting from side to side.

  “‘I was real happy when I’d found this place. Got it for a song, and I was especially happy about how light and airy it was.

  “‘All those windows.

  “‘Windows on three of the four sides of the efficiency. Three on one side. Two on the other two. Windows everywhere.

  “‘I listened to the silence and stared at the cold ceramic tiles between my bare feet.

  “‘Nothing there, Dexter said after what felt like forever. He’d sent Kern who was less than a mile away. Kern gave it a good, close look but didn’t see anything.

  “‘I thanked Dexter. He asked if I needed the cops. I thanked him again and hung up.

  “‘I wanted to laugh at myself, but there wasn’t as much as a giggle inside. Fine, just leave the bathroom. Can’t stay there all night. If I didn’t leave right then, I’d never leave. I’d have to live in my bathroom. Have meals delivered there. Buy a computer and have it installed right on top of the toilet tank. I’d work out of my home, right in the bathroom. I’d never leave ’cuz I’d have everything I’d need literally right at my fingertips.

  “‘I laughed at that image and kept laughing as I threw open the bathroom door and quickly scanned the windows. Nothing there. Still, I wasn’t going to take any chances. Dug extra blankets from my closet and tacked them up over the windows. If I can’t see it, it’s not there, right?

  “‘Wrongo!

  “‘I flicked off the lights and crawled back into bed, rearranged the blankets and shifted until I found the warm spot. Nice and warm. Toasty. Then, a chill.

  “‘Damn, damn, damn. My eyes snapped open, and I stared at the blanket that covered the shades that covered the windows. Opaque nothing
ness, but my friend was there. There underneath all the layers. Invisible, but I could feel its presence.

  “‘Damn! I bolted into the bathroom and sat on the toilet seat staring at the tiles, wondering how much money I could make doing computer work at home. In my bathroom.

  “‘I figured there’d be a way to figure this out tomorrow, but for now I had to survive the night. But how? Then…inspiration.

  “‘I couldn’t live with my guest. Couldn’t run from it. But maybe I could enable myself to ignore the bastard, at least temporarily. I remembered the bottle of rum left over from a small Halloween party I’d had. I carefully opened the bathroom door, stared at the windowless wall and moved toward the pantry where I’d last seen the bottle.

  “‘Salvation! The bottle was still half full!

  “‘I gripped the bottle tightly and walked backward toward the bathroom, carefully staring at a dirt spot on the windowless wall. Before I knew it, I was sitting on the toilet seat, wringing the dead soldier’s skinny neck, my head spinning. The rum had burned at first, but got smoother with each swig until there was none left, and I even craved just a little bit more, just to make things feel just a little smoother.

  “‘I kicked the bathroom door open, then stood and stumbled over the threshold. I straightened and felt the whole room spin. Took a careful step, then another. I felt fine, I thought, and took a couple less careful steps, tripped over a boot and tumbled forward, falling face first right beneath the window, the big one directly across from my bed. I reached a hand forward and gripped the molding below the window, pulled myself up to my knees, my nose inches away from the blanket.

  “‘Couldn’t see anything, but damn, I felt cold, colder than I’d ever felt in my whole life. Cold, then hot as drunken anger washed over me. I grabbed the blanket and tore it away from the window frame, leaving me face to face with a familiar shape, plainly visible through the shade.

  “‘I stared at the bastard. I swear I could see those terrible eyes staring back at me. Staring at me!