These were the various thoughts running through Sebastian’s head. Not am I gonna be slaughtered and the town overrun with ghastly creatures of the night, like Mason and the others were thinking.
They stopped when they reached the trailer park camp where Alex lived.
“That was the scariest, strangest thing I’ve ever seen in my life,” Mason said.
“Man, I’m gonna have a story to tell my grandkid’s grandkids,” Ben laughed nervously. “I just outran a vampire.”
“Yeah, sure you did,” Alex shot back. “The only reason that thing didn’t kill us is because it must not have wanted to.”
“Seb,” Mason ignored them and turned to Sebastian. “How… how did you know?”
“Know what?” Sebastian said nervously.
“That it was there… you said you had a dream? Like how?”
“Yeah,” Sebastian answered. “I told you. It was just a dream. A very real dream.”
“And that’s how you knew a manor full of vampires was there?” Matthew asked.
“Well, we only saw one and he didn’t hurt anyone,” Sebastian said, excusably. “I wouldn’t say there was a mansion full.”
“One is one too many,” Matthew argued.
“I’m not saying it isn’t. All I had was a dream. I can’t explain anymore,” Sebastian said hurtfully.
“What if you have some sort of psychic connection to vampires, Seb?” Mason asked. “Have you ever had another vampire dream before this?”
“No,” Sebastian said quickly. “Like that was it. It was a one off. And I doubt it will ever happen again.”
“This town just gets weirder and weirder,” Ben said. “And to think of how normal it used to be.”
“Did it though?” Matthew asked. And Sebastian was grateful for the change in discussion. At least they were no longer focused on him – and his dreams. “If that was what Mason said it was, and now I tend to think it was – where did it come from? How long has it been here in Corpus? I was thinking. The school’s library has a digital archive of newspapers. Dating back to at least the 1880s. We discussed it in class once.”
“Yeah,” Mason said. “That’s perfect. We could search it for anything that might, y’know, shed light.”
“Shed light,” Ben laughed. “You made a vampire pun. Brilliant.”
***
Earlier Monday morning, Sheriff Antwan Zeddman was in his office. He was fielding constant phone calls and questions regarding the latest report from the Corpus County Coroner’s Office – “Couple Found Dead on Old Mill’s Road Ruled a Homicide.”
It was the headline of the town’s newspaper. It was the discussion of the local radio show. And it was the topic on every caller’s mind as they rang the Sheriff’s Office nonstop.
“Don’t these people have something better to do!” Sheriff Zeddman said stressfully from his office. “We’re working on it! What don’t they get!?”
“Everybody’s just so gosh darn concerned,” a young deputy told him.
“We’re doing all we can. And frankly that’s not a lot when you have nothing substantial to go on,” the sheriff said, slamming a fist on his paperwork-cluttered desk. “People want answers and right now we don’t have any.”
“The radio’s blaming you, sir,” the young deputy told him.
“Sure they are. Don’t even bother turning that crap on, Deputy.”
“Sheriff, they saying you’re running the town into the ground with your progressive agenda. The radio and the papers.”
“Progressive agenda? You know what,” Zeddman said angrily. “Just forget it. When I said don’t bother turning the radio on, I didn’t think the alternative would be you giving a blow-by-blow.”
Then Deputy apologized. There was a knock at his office door. When he told the young deputy to answer it, Coleman walked in.
“Mornin’ Sheriff,” Coleman said. “I imagine things aren’t going so hot right now.”
“Ya think!” the sheriff said sarcastically. “Alright, Coleman. The people need assurance right now. We got a dead couple and a farm full of Old Man McIntyre’s slaughtered cows.”
“Plus the blood bank, Sheriff,” Coleman added.
“That’s not as concerning as the others. Like I was saying, the town needs assurance. I just got off the phone with a half dozen parents all wanting to know how we’re going to keep their kids protected.”
“Why’s that? Ain’t no kid been killed,” Coleman shrugged. “But I guess it’s preemptive, eh?”
“That doesn’t stop the concerns. Corpus is a small town, Deputy. I’m afraid we’ll have no choice but to provide additional security at the schools. Especially if there’s a killer on the loose. And the worst part, Coleman, is that it appears there really is.”
“May God have mercy on Corpus,” Coleman gulped. “What a mess. It just ain’t right. This town’s s’pose to be quiet.”
“The principal would like to meet with me regarding parental concerns and how we’ll address them. You coming? Thought it’d be a good time to ask the principal about the attack on those boys in the hospital.”
Coleman agreed. “We could ask him ‘bout a couple ol’ goth boys in his school goin’ around attacking his other pupils. Now’s a good time as any to ask.”
Zeddman placed on his sheriff’s coat and hat – hanging from a coat rack in his office, to complete his uniform. He took off in his cruiser within minutes as Coleman followed in his own.
“Radio Control 243,” Zeddman said, clicking the radio unit that clung to the shoulder of his uniform.
“Control 243, this is Deputy Coleman. Over,” said the deputy.
“I was just thinking, Deputy. What if the murder of that poor couple was not just an isolated incident?” he said into his radio.
“Well, Sheriff,” Coleman’s voice echoed through the other end of the radio. “We don’t even need to think about something that horrific. I tell ya, the whole town would pack up ‘n leave. All 800 of ‘em.”
“Then it’ll be up to us to make sure that doesn’t happen. Although with the way some of them hassle me, I wouldn’t mind if a good bit of the town decided to pack up. But God knows my luck will never be that good. Anything goes wrong let’s blame Zeddman.”
They arrived at the school fifteen minutes later. The Sheriff did his usual routine of parking right near the entrance door, creating his own parking space. He was, after all, the sheriff of Corpus.
Coleman parked right behind him. Moments later they were exiting their vehicles and walking through the main doors of the school’s entrance. Zeddman walked directly into the office lobby with Coleman in tow.
“Morning, Sheriff,” said the secretary before turning to Coleman, “Morning Deputy.”
“Morning, Madam Secretary,” Zeddman nodded. His deputy followed suit.
“You’re here to meet with the principal, aren’t you?” the secretary smiled. When Zeddman gave her confirmation, she zipped away through a narrow and returned moments later.
“He ready?” Zeddman asked, pouring himself a cup from the water cooler.
“Yes, sir. The Principal will see you now, officers.”
The secretary ushered them behind a counter, beyond her desk, and down the same narrow hall she’d just come from. They stopped at the last door on the left. The secretary knocked and a voice gently shouted, “Come in!”
She opened the door. The principal stood from his chair. He was in his late sixties, with balding hair, a grey suit, and a polka-dot bowtie. The principal was the type of gentleman who obviously came from an old school education. He wouldn’t be spotted dead without a suit and tie, and was the type – one could immediately notice, who played the role of educator whether school was in or out. Whether it was a Monday, or heaven forbid, a Saturday.
Education Comes First read a plaque on his desk. And next to it was another plaque, this one inscribed with his name – Dr Nigel Dawkins.
“Good morning, officers,” Dr Dawkins said as he individually
shook each of their hands. “I have one more person joining us. Ah! Here he is!” Another suited gentleman walked through the doorway. He shook the officers’ hands and introduced himself as the Vice Principal, Dr Fredrick Graham.
“Let me know if you gentlemen need anything,” the secretary told them before walking away.
The officers each took a seat, facing the principal’s desk. Dr Graham remained standing and leaned against a sidewall, with his arms crossed – an expression that conveyed he was not expecting the meeting to last very long.
“How may we help you, Dr Dawkins?” the sheriff addressed the principal.
“First I wanted to thank you for taking time out of your busy day to be here. As you know, we’ve been fielding a lot of interest from parents lately about extra precautions to keep our students safe.”
“Of course. Of course,” Zeddman nodded.
“As you know we take the safety of our students very seriously. That’s why I’ve asked you to be here today, Sheriff. It’s only been a matter of hours since the newspaper was released this morning. But all everyone is talking about is the homicide out on Old Mill’s Road. And some hooligans killing some cows, apparently?”
“Those are two totally separate incidents. Unfortunately they both occurred on the same street. I’m afraid we can’t discuss any further details regarding these ongoing investigations” the sheriff informed him.
“Weird how people would conflate the two, right?” Vice Principal Graham spoke up, his arms still folded. “The killing out there was awful. But the cows?”
“What about the cows?” Deputy Coleman asked.
“I mean, we butcher cattle for meat every day,” the vice principal said. “But the same cows get killed over the weekend and everyone goes nuts… equating it with the murder of that innocent couple who were just driving through the town.”
“I see what you mean,” Sheriff Zeddman said. “Nevertheless, we must investigate all crimes. Although we do place priority on crimes that we consider more significant than others. As you can imagine, we’re paying more attention to the homicide than the cattle killings.”
“Back to what I was saying,” Dr Dawkins said, tapping his finger on his desk and looking at his calendar. “We have to do our best to keep parents happy… and quiet.”
“I fully agree,” Zeddman said. “If you think you’ve got it bad just coming from parents… imagine how I’m doing fielding parents, newspapers, and all the concerned citizens combined. Hell, Old Man McIntyre must call the Sheriff’s Office at least five times just to heckle me about my agenda and my lack of action to bring justice to his cattle farm.”
“I did have a suggestion,” Dr Dawkins said. “And I hope it wouldn’t be an inconvenience—”
“I have suggestions of my own,” Sheriff Zeddman interrupted him. “I suggest we increase police presence at the school. At least until the dust has settled. I’ll have a couple of my deputies placed around the campus during school hours.”
“Oh, thank God!” Dr Dawkins said with a relief. “That’s exactly what I was going to ask. You wouldn’t believe how much more comfortable that makes the parents feel in a time of crisis.”
“Crisis? Crisis you say?” Coleman asked.
“Most certainly,” Dr Dawkins said, nodding his head up and down. He was fidgety. Zeddman assumed nervousness was getting the better of him. “We’re just not used to anything like this in Corpus. You know that, Sheriff Zeddman. You’ve been here almost as long as I have.”
“Can’t blame you there, Dr Dawkins,” the sheriff smirked and slapped his knee. “All good points. That’s why we’ll be happy to provide additional policing measures.”
“You don’t know how happy I am to hear that, Sheriff,” Dr Dawkins said. “Parents will be so pleased. Our phones will stop ringing non-stop. And it’s just until this… dies down.”
“Which might not be until our killer is caught,” Coleman added. The Sheriff gave him a strange look, not wanting him to pile on.
“There is one more thing, officers,” Dr Dawkins said. “On Tuesday night we’re having a PTO, Parent–Teacher Organization, meeting. It would truly be wonderful if you could be there to explain to the parents how we’re going to beef up policing measures for now. I know tomorrow night is short notice but it will truly make a big difference.”
“Anything to keep our civilians happy.” Zeddman gave a faint and weary smile. “After all, I’m an elected official.”
“Gotta have that re-election in the bag, Sheriff,” Coleman joked.
“Don’t push it, Coleman,” Zeddman joked back.
“Well I’m glad we have that settled and taken care of. I just can’t thank you enough, Sheriff. You as well, Deputy,” Dr Dawkins told them.
“No problem,” Zeddman said, followed by an “Any time,” from Coleman.
“Well, Officers. That about does it,” Dr Dawkins concluded.
“Oh,” Zeddman said, immediately recalling the other thing they needed to talk about. “There is something else.”
When Dr Dawkins asked him what he was referring to, the Sheriff told him of the incident that occurred in the woods during the Friday night football game. A look of terror drew upon the face of Dr Dawkins. Even Dr Graham, still standing, gasped when the sheriff mentioned that a high school student had been stabbed in the hand.
“Oh my. Oh my,” Dr Dawkins shook his head from side to side. “I’m so sorry. You don’t know how responsible I feel about this. To believe that it happened on the grounds of my school.”
“It’s not like you sanctioned it,” Zeddman laughed halfheartedly.
“No, but I should have had the foresight to see something like this possibly happening. Thing getting out of hand on football night. Perhaps we’ve been turning a blind eye to some of their behavior. Which lead to this.”
“I mean,” Zeddman interrupted. “I hereby move forward to make sure that we crack down on certain types of gatherings at during game nights. Namely the tailgating. The bonfires. These kids are good at hiding it, aren’t they?”
“Yes. You’re right,” Dr Graham added. “We’ve been letting them get away with too much. They’re acting too much like the gosh darn city kids, to be frank. This ain’t California and it never will be.”
“I’m not blaming the rural or urban landscape for contributing to this,” Zeddman said.
“Oh, but I am,” Dr Graham added. “It’s essential we remain true to our small-town roots. It keeps out the drifters and the hoodlums. Conservative values are the only way to keep the noise out so we don’t become like the rest of this country.”
“I’m not here to argue that it doesn’t,” Sheriff Zeddman said, tossing his hands in the air. “I’m just saying let’s try to make sure the kids aren’t getting stone drunk before they turn twenty-one regardless of political affiliation.”
“Good times,” Coleman said, reminiscing. “I remember those years in my youth. Didn’t think I’d become a cop back then,” he laughed.
“We don’t need your personal recollections of how things used to be, Deputy,” Zeddman said. “But Principals… I have more questions regarding the boys.”
“Go on,” Dr Dawkins nodded.
“Tell me about Jason Richly and Harry Fletch,” Sheriff Zeddman asked him. “Just what kind of boys are they?”
“Occasionally I get complaints that they’re bullying a few of the younger boys. Maybe a couple times each year. I usually have a talk with ‘em and they’ll stop for a while and I won’t hear back from ’em until next year,” Dr Dawkins said.
“That’s been my experience as well,” Dr Graham added. “Decent guys. They enjoy the occasional hazing, what high school boy doesn’t? Haven’t heard of any serious issues with them. But they’re the ones who were attacked, correct?”
“That’s correct,” Sheriff Zeddman said. He informed the principals that the high school students claimed they were attacked by a boy dressed in black, who likely belonged to some sort of goth subculture.
Dr Dawkins spent the entire time shaking his head, waving it from side to side then waging his finger.
“One of the boys even mentioned having seen this goth kid right here in school,” Coleman added. “So we need to know what students fit the bill?”
“My goodness,” the principal said, shocked. “None that I know of.”
“Think about it for a moment,” Zeddman said.
“I can assure you, Sheriff,” Dr Dawkins spoke again, “We have zero students belonging to a goth culture at our school. There’s certainly no punk rock boys and no one dressed in all black. I wouldn’t allow it. I know every student in this school – it’s a small one, to be sure. Anyone like that would stick out like a sore thumb.”
“Then how could they have seen them here in school?” Sheriff Zeddman asked.
“I frankly haven’t the faintest idea,” Dr Dawkins admitted.
“How about you?” Deputy Coleman asked Dr Graham.
“No,” Dr Graham said, folding his arms and shaking his head from side to side. “No one like that sounds familiar. Not at Corpus.”
And there it was. Dr Graham’s denial of ever having seen any tall pale boys dressed in black – despite the fact that it was he who argued with them at the pep rally only three days prior.
Chapter 7
The Sheriff’s left the school, not having gained any further leads on who might have attacked the boys who were still in the infirmary. In fact, they now had less to go on after previously believing the assailants were school pupils. They got into their police cruisers and left.
Back in the school, Hailey was watching from a classroom window as the cop cars drove off. Seconds later the school bell rang and the first class of the morning was over.
“I don’t’ know what class you were in but mine seemed to last so much longer than usual,” Madison told Hailey as they met by their adjoining hallway lockers.
“Like you said, everything important happens in the hallway during locker time,” Hailey laughed.
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