by Mac Flynn
"This city sure is rotting," I whispered more to myself than my partner.
"Ruthven's influence," he commented.
I turned to him with an upraised eyebrow and nodded at the haunted houses. "What's Ruthven got to do with this?"
I noticed Vince's hands tightened on the wheel. "Ruthven has long had his hands on the city's pulse. He squeezes the life from every living thing until there remains only a dried corpse."
I shuddered when I remembered the look in Ruthven's eyes as he tried to convince me to come with him. "So he's in more than just the supernatural part of town?"
"Yes."
I leaned back and scrutinized my partner. "Not to go too far off-topic, but you're pretty chatty tonight."
"You asked to be more informed. I have given you information," Vince told me.
I leaned toward him and narrowed my eyes. "Where's my partner? That grumpy old vampire who wanted to kill me this morning?"
Vince stiffened. "It will not help me to have an ignorant woman at my heels."
I snorted. "That never stopped you before." I glanced out the window and watched the apocalyptic scenery fly by. "You know, for everything Ruthven's done I think his goons are a lot worse than he is. I mean, they're the ones actually doing the bad stuff and-"
Vince slammed his foot on the brake and cranked the wheel to the right. The car slid to a stop beside a rusted hulk of an automobile in front of a house that resembled the home from Psycho. I wrapped my fingers around the dash until we came to a full and complete stop, and then I whipped my face to Vince to glare at him. "I take it back, you're still the same old vampire. You're still trying to kill us both."
Vince leaned back in his seat and stared straight ahead. His lips were pursed together, but his hands slid into his lap. "Ruthven is a monster. Never forget that."
I held up the ring that bound us to each other. "Aren't we monsters, too? Being bound to a vampire, and being a vampire, isn't exactly natural."
"Ruthven is different. He has no remorse, no sympathy, no-"
"You just described yourself," I interjected.
Vince started and there was such a look of shock in his wide eyes that I regretted my words. I looked away from him and out the window. "I'm sorry, I really shouldn't have said that." Vince's reply was to pull the car back onto the street and drive us up the hill with the small forest. I risked a glanced at him and saw his jaw was stiff and his lips were set in a thin line. "Really, Vince, I didn't mean-"
"I heard your apology the first time," he interrupted. His voice was as cold as the time we had the conversation in the warehouse, after which he tried to kill me.
The rest of the drive was tense and quiet. I looked to him from time-to-time, but he only watched the road. The old houses on either side of the road gave way to a forest full of half-dead, darkened trees. Their rotting roots slid into the road and we bumped over them with all the grace of a hippo over packing peanuts, but without all the enjoyment of watching the bubbles burst. Brambles and rotting leaves covered the space between the leaning trunks, and the warm glow of the streetlights vanished. Only the headlights from the car provided us light on this overcast night.
The city disappeared behind us, and still we climbed the meandering road up the hill. The path narrowed so that branches occasionally scraped the side of the car and sometimes the wheels slipped on the muddy ground beneath the tires. The mud reminded me of the tell-tale signs of mud we found on the car, and Vince's assumptions about Tim's visit before his death. At tense times like these I missed him the most, and not just because he would have been in my place doing these terrifying adventures. He was a good friend who went before his-well, I guess he was really old, but he went before I could say my goodbyes to him.
My silent reverie was interrupted by a noise ahead of us. It was the howl of a wolf. Vince stopped the car and quickly shut off the headlights, engulfing us in near-total darkness. I leaned over the dashboard and peered into the blackness in front of the car. My gifts from Vince allowed me to see down the road, but I heard and saw no more.
"You think that was a wild dog?" I whispered to Vince.
"No."
"Didn't think so. What now?"
"Now we walk." He stepped out of the car and I hurried after him. Dead is the only way I'd be caught alone on a spooky hill like this.
Vince silently stepped up the hill while I trudged along behind him as best I could. His legs were longer and his grace allowed him to move like a cat through the thick mud and weeds that choked the road. I lumbered behind him like a moose through a porcelain factory, but somehow we managed to make it to a final turn up the road. Another howl alerted us to trouble, and Vince grabbed one of my shoulders and dragged me behind a nearby tree. He peeked around the tree and the corner, and I followed suit.
Around the corner was the end of the road. There was a small clearing with a decrepit log cabin built on a rock foundation that wasn't so much crumbling as turning to dust. A leaning porch and chink between the logs accentuated the aged look of the place. Gnarled trees lay ten feet around the cabin and the moss from the limbs hung over the building like a dark vale.
Nothing moved or made a sound, but I noticed the door was ajar. The slightest breeze caused it to creak on its rusted hinges. The two small square windows at the front showed there was no light inside. Its owner was dead, and it would now be all but forgotten as it turned to a pile of rotten boards and piles of rocks.
There came another howl and the sound was so close I started and nearly slipped into the mud. The noise came from just on the other side of the cabin, and it was quickly followed by the high-pitched scream of a woman. In a moment a woman of thirty-five in a cloak and dress raced around one of the rear corners of the cabin. Her wild pants filled the hair and her hood flapped behind her. She looked over her shoulder, and a second later I saw what so frightened her.
A half dozen werewolves skidded around the muddy corner and followed close at her heels. Their teeth gnashed together and their claws were outstretched to snatch her. She didn't watch where she ran and one of her feet slipped on a large pile of mud. The woman fell face-first to the ground. The werewolves barreled down on her. I couldn't stand by and watch her be ripped to shreds. I tried to jump out from behind the tree, but Vince grabbed my arm and held me still.
It was a good thing because the woman rolled over onto her rear and pointed both her palms at the oncoming werewolves. A burst of bright green light flew from her palms and slammed into her attackers as they were in mid-leap. They flew through the light and came out as-cabbages? The greens rained down on the woman and pelted her with their vegetable evilness.
The woman stood and brushed the cabbages and mud off her. "Blast, the wrong spell again," I heard her mutter.
I turned to Vince and nodded at the woman. "Is she a-" Another howl interrupted my question.
The woman stiffened, but only for a moment. She turned and flung herself down the hill towards us in a mad dash to escape her new pursuers. I stood a little on the outside of the tree, so I was visible to her as she approached. I tried to slip behind the tree, but the only slipping happened beneath my feet. My clumsy feet slipped on the mud and I fell onto the road where my side sunk into the gooey mess.
The woman noticed me when she was ten yards off, and she slid to a stop. She yelped and held her hands out in front of her as before. I slammed shut my eyes and prepared for a life as a vegan in the most literal sense. A bright light shone through my eyelids, but before it could hit me a shadow threw itself in front of the light's path. I opened my eyes in time to see Vince take the shot in the back. His glasses slid down and I could see his eyes were wide in shock and pain. He fell forward and I grabbed his shoulders to keep him from falling face-first into me.
There came another howl and the woman rushed past us and down the road. In a moment she was out of sight, and more howls warned me the werewolves would soon be in sight. Unfortunately, I had a heavy problem on my hands with my partner. Vince
lay stiff in my arms and one of his hands clutched at his chest. He breathed with such rapidity that I wondered if his non-working lungs would burst.
"You okay?" I asked him. He let out a terrible wheeze and his body shook with a tremor that made me vibrate. "I'll take that as a 'no,' but you have to get up or we'll be puppy chow." Vince struggled to his feet. I slung one of his arms across my shoulders and even through our clothes I could feel how flush he was with fever. "I didn't know vampires could get a fever," I commented.
More howls told me I was wasting time, so I dragged Vince down the hill away from trouble.
Chapter 3
Vince struggled to take even one step, and more often than not I found the mud more useful than his legs. He slid along most of the way. My eyesight didn't help matters. Up the hill I'd been able to see perfectly, but now I found the darkness of night somehow clouded my vision. I tripped and stumbled over rocks and roots, and by the time we reached the car a minute later my energy felt sapped. I pushed him into the passenger seat and took the driver's chair.
The headlights provided much-needed light, and I spun the wheel and slammed my foot on the gas pedal. Well, I tried. The pedal was like lead with a sticky spring beneath it. It took most of my energy to inch the car forward in a long curve so we faced downhill. Gravity helped us along and the car rolled down the hill to the brightly-lit city below us.
I now had time to look at my ailing partner who sat slumped in the seat beside me. He lay against the door and his right hand still clutched his chest over his heart. His face was twisted into a grimace of agony. "You okay?" I asked him. He shook his head. "Anything I can do?" Another shake of the head. "Is there anything anybody can do?"
He nodded. "Bat," he hoarsely whispered.
I frowned. "You want a bat? You can turn into a bat?"
"Batholomew," he rephrased.
"Oh! Bat!" I faced forward and pressed harder on the gas pedal. It moved down about a quarter of an inch. "We'll be there in a sec." I paused and turned toward Vince. "Um, how do I get there?"
Vince raised his left hand, the one with the ring, and pointed his ring finger at the windshield. A small, weak glow erupted from the ring like a tiny dome. It flickered and wavered as though fighting against a breeze. A slim beam of light flew out from the front of the dome and stretched through the windshield and ten yards in front of the car where it ended in a fine point. The beam pointed a little to the left.
"Follow the line," he choked out.
I lifted my own ring hand and glanced between his ring and mine. "What can't these things do?" I asked him. Vince winced as though a pain shot through him and the light from his ring flickered. He dropped his ring hand and the glow disappeared completely. My guide was gone. "Vince, I really need that light." He turned his face away from me and said nothing. "Come on, Vince! We can't get to Bat's without it." His breathing evened and the hand that clutched his chest slipped down into his lap. "Vince!"
By now we were off the hill and in the rundown portion of the city. I pressed on the brake and pulled the car to the side of the road. I scooted across the seat and looked at his face. His skin had a strange color to it, more pink and less pasty-white. His eyes were closed and his body lay limp against the door. I grabbed my partner's shoulders and gave him a rough shake.
"Come on, Vince, this isn't funny!" I shouted at him. No response, not even a flicker of his eyelids.
I leaned back and my eyes caught sight of his ring. I raised my own ring to my eyes and I glanced between the two cursed trinkets. Vince sat in the background of my view, sick and helpless. My eyebrows crashed down and I scooted back into my own seat. I raised my left hand and pointed my ring finger at the windshield. If Vince could do it then so could I.
I focused all my thoughts on willing the guiding light, but there wasn't even a flicker of brilliance from the ring. I clutched the ring against my chest and tried to tamp down the tears of fear and frustration that welled up in my eyes. My eyes flickered to my pale and unconscious partner. I closed my eyes and clasped the ring in my other hand as I made a quiet prayer. "Please, Tim. I need to help Vince," I whispered.
A small flicker of light ignited my hope. I looked down at my ring and saw a small, wavering dome erupt over the dark jewel. My face broke out in a grin and I stretched out my left hand toward the windshield. The familiar stream of light shot through the glass and across the bow of the vehicle toward the slummy depths of the city. I pulled the car onto the road and followed the light.
My weakened foot meant we puttered down the streets, but a half hour later we arrived at the garage door. The car entrance raised on our coming, and we coasted into Tim's garage. I hopped out and raced through the white door into Bat's main experiment quarters.
"Bat!" I shouted. "Bat!"
The old man himself shuffled from the enclosed white room. His bleary eyes told me he'd been asleep. "Liz? What's the matter? Where's Vince?"
I rushed over to him and grabbed his hand. "There's something wrong with Vince! He collapsed and now I can't get him to wake up!"
"Collapsed? At night?" Bat mused.
"No time!" I dragged Bat into the garage and over to the passenger side of the car.
Bat opened the door and leaned in. He stepped back, and one look of the deep frown on his face made me shudder. "We must get him to the couch," Bat told me.
"I'll carry him," I offered. If I could easily move manhole covers than a man would be no problem. I slipped past Bat and leaned into the car. One tug of Vince's body told me I couldn't move him. "I can't carry him," I told Bat.
Bat's frown deepened. "Interesting, but let us both carry him," he suggested.
With our combined strengths we dragged him out of the car, through the lab, and into the white room to plop him on the couch. Our plop must have been hard because he gasped and clutched at his chest. His eyes squeezed tightly shut and he stiffened.
Bat leaned over him and inspected Vince's face and hands. "What exactly happened?" he asked me.
"We were going to some witch's shack to find out if Tim left anything there before he got killed. When we got there, there was this woman being chased by a bunch of werewolves. She turned them into cabbages and ran down the road toward us. She saw me and I guess tried to turn me into a cabbage, too, but Vince jumped in the way and took the shot."
Bat turned to me and raised an eyebrow. "Did he? And what then?"
I nodded at my partner. "Then he clutched his chest like he's doing now and told me to get him here."
Bat returned his attention to Vince and grasped Vince's hand. He started back, but didn't lose his hold. "My god, he's warm!"
"Yeah, I thought he might have a fever," I told him.
"A fever may be the least of our worries," Bat replied. He gave a few yanks on Vince's hand, but the vampire refused to move his hand.
"Why's he clutching it so hard?" I asked Bat.
"The heart is a very important organ for a vampire. It's the only one when, if damaged-Vincent, let go!" Bat managed to pry Vince's right hand off his chest, but Vince grasped his left hand near the same spot. "It's the only organ that, if damaged, will destroy him. Ah-ha!" Bat managed to loosen the grasp of Vince's left hand, and he held them away from Vince's chest. The vampire squirmed, but his efforts were weak and futile.
"So all the horror movies are right about the stake?" I guessed.
He nodded and wiped some sweat from his brow with the use of his shirt. "That's correct, but if you could hold his hands away from his chest I would be most grateful."
"Sure thing." I moved to stand behind his head, grabbed Vince's hands and clasped them together over his head. It was surprisingly easy given how much stronger he should have been than me, his being the older undead-ish creature.
Vince thrashed and his eyes opened. They were a strange blue color, and they glared at me without his usual demonic glower. He seemed not to recognize me, but rather to be in a semi-conscious state where the survival instinct. I lay partially against
him to keep him from squirming. "Bat, there's something seriously wrong with Vince!" I told our friend.
"One moment," Bat replied. He leaned down and pressed his ear to Vince's chest for a moment. He pulled away with a quick start and his eyes were wide as he stared down at Vince. "My god. . ." he murmured.
"He'd better not be," I quipped.
Bat turned to me with those wide, unblinking eyes, and I noticed his hands that lay on the couch beside Vince shook. "He has a heartbeat."
Chapter 4
I stiffened and blinked at him. Below me Vince stopped his futile struggles and his arms fell limp in mine. "He has a what?" I asked Bat.
"Vincent has a heartbeat," he repeated.
I looked to Vince and back to Bat, then did a double-take and nodded at the vampire. "He's dead. He can't have a heartbeat."
"Undead, but that state seems to have changed," Bat told me.
"Um, being undead is kind of a permanent condition," I argued.
Bat rubbed his chin and looked to Vince. "It seems there may be a way to reverse the effects of un-death. One moment." He hurried from the room and the door banged shut behind him.
I turned my attention to my invalid partner. Vince's eyes were scrunched shut and his breathing was still harsh. Bat's comment was ridiculous. Vampires couldn't become human, or at least I thought they couldn't, but I had to admit Vince showed all the signs of being human. His skin had color, he breathed in and out with alarming regularity, and he was warm to the touch. The change to a mortal also explained why I was able to hold his hands away from his chest.
Vince's hands trembled in mine, and I gave them a squeeze. I was surprised when he opened his pretty new eyes and I looked down at him. "How you feeling?" I asked him. He shook his head and turned his face away from me. I cringed. "Not that great, huh? Bat should be-" The door swung open and Bat hurried in with a large, dusty tome clutched against his chest.
Bat went over to us and plopped the tome onto the end table near the couch. He blew on the cover and a thick layer of dust drifted into the air. A coughing fit interrupted him for a moment and he covered his mouth with his hand as he leaned over the table. I tried to pull away from Vince to help Bat, but Vince's hands gripped mine. I turned back and his gaze caught mine. His eyes were scared, confused.