Hard Times (A Sam Harlan Novel Book 2) (20 page)

The expression on Leticia’s face changed so suddenly it was as if a switch had been flipped. “That’s ridiculous,” she said. She sat up straight on the couch, her head held high. “You are speaking like crazy people.”

“It’s true,” Tommy said. “He attacked us at Colden’s house. Almost killed us. He’s not human. He’s—”

“He’s what?” Leticia demanded.

“A vampire,” Callie said, raising her crucifix. “He’s a vampire, Mrs. Mendoza.”

“Why do you say that?” Leticia said. “You have all gone crazy.”

We’re losing her.
I snapped my fingers again. Everyone froze. Leticia stared at me, but there was something in her eyes. It wasn’t denial. Not exactly. “Leticia? Your mother, Maria. She was Catholic?”

Leticia didn’t move for a moment. “Yes, she is Catholic.”

I noticed her use of the present tense. I pointed at Callie. “The good Sister is telling the truth. She would never lie.”

“You’re a nun?” Leticia asked, surprised. “But … it can’t be true.”

“Your mother’s faith was strong,” Callie said. It wasn’t a question.

Leticia nodded, then turned to Elias. “Why are they talking about Momma like that? Like she’s…”

Elias leaned in and hugged his mother. “She’s gone, Mother. She’s dead.”

“That can’t be,” Leticia shouted, yanking back. “You’re all crazy. Crazy!”

There was heat in her voice, but not as much as there should have been.

She knows. Deep inside, she knows.
“Ignacio Santiago is not of this world,” I said. “That thing has killed your mother and taken your daughters. Your family is in danger. You better come to grips with it or you’re all dead. Dead,” I said, my voice rising. “Get it?”

Her anger slowly withered. “Ignacio talked to me,” she said softly. “He told me I was pretty.” She shook her head, then shook it harder. “Everything is
not
fine,” she whispered. “He did things to me.” She grabbed her head. “He did things
in my head.
”

Elias sobbed and pulled his mother tighter. Angie joined them on the couch, wrapping her arms around her boyfriend’s mother, all doubt gone.

Callie and Tommy exchanged glances, then turned to me. I had no idea what they expected. I had no idea how to help Leticia recover. She had been mind-raped, her will subverted and subjugated to another. It wasn’t easy to make peace with.

She sobbed uncontrollably as the reality set in. Her mother was dead, her daughters taken, and a monster she thought a myth had been lurking in her home.

I was surprised how well she took it.

“Leticia,” I said, my voice loud enough to carry. “We need your help. Santiago is still out there. He’s taken your daughters. We need to know everything you remember about Santiago if we want to get Elena and Olivia back.”

She nodded, her eyes damp with tears. “Of course. I will do
anything
.”

“Did Santiago ever mention where he was staying? Where he spent his nights? Anything would help.”

“He never said.” Her eyes widened in sudden recognition. “Wait, he mentioned a motel. An empty motel on the south side of town. On Iowa Avenue.”

I turned to Tommy, who nodded his head. “There’s a bunch of old fleabag motels on Iowa Avenue, but there’s one that’s closed. Doesn’t even have a sign anymore.” His eyes lit up. “It has a dirt parking lot.”

“That’s got to be it,” I said. “We’ve finally got the sonofabitch.”

* * *

We had finally caught a break. Tommy gave instructions to Leticia, Elias, and Angie, telling them to gather Juan and Franco and seek shelter at the Glicks’. They were nodding and hugging, and I took that opportunity to step out into the cold night air.

Callie joined me, a quizzical look on her face.

I held up my cell phone. “I’m calling Henry.”

“And telling him what?”

“That we have a lead on the thing that’s terrorizing this family.”

She raised an eyebrow.

“And,” I continued, “just in case we don’t make it, I want him to know so he can kill the damned thing.”

She smiled half-heartedly. “I believe the Lord will protect us.” Her smile faded. “But sometimes the Lord expects us to do our part, too. I don’t know if we can trust the sheriff.”

“Neither do I,” I said. I shook my head. My pulse still pounded in rhythm with my headache. “Who else do we have? The Church?”

“No,” she said. “They’re … not what they once were. You’ve seen that. They’ve grown complacent.”

“Haven’t we all,” I said. I hit the redial button and it rang several times before he answered.

His voice sounded tired, but there was no sign that he’d been sleeping. “You kill him yet?”

“Not yet,” I said, “but we’re getting close.” I filled him in on all we had learned about Ignacio Santiago and told him my plan to confront the vampire at the motel.

“I’m not going to tell you to be careful,” he said.

“No?”

“No. I’m going to tell you the thing you’re facing is
smart
. If he’s as old as you say, then he’s lived this long without arousing suspicion. There’s been no trail of bodies. I’ve poked around and came up short. No one has heard of Santiago.”

There was an edge to his voice that made me shiver. “What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking,” he drawled, “that parts of your story don’t make sense.”

I started to protest, but he cut me off. “I’m not saying you’re lying, Sam. I’m saying that the situation is … off. I wish I was there to help.” There was silence on the line. “I could be there soon,” he offered.

“Those girls will probably be
dead
by the time you get there,” I said.

“I know,” Henry admitted. “I know what you’re up against. It’s a predator, a really
smart
predator. It will winnow the herd, culling them one at a time. It looks for any advantage and only fights when necessary. It prefers to kill in the night and steal away before dawn.”

If I hadn’t been spooked before, I was now. He spoke calmly about the vampire, reminding me how efficiently and effectively it hunted.

Henry would know. He’s an ancient predator himself.
“It’s a trap.”

“I didn’t say that, either. I’m saying you got yourself a situation, time’s a-wasting, and it’s pushing you, forcing you to make decisions. Make sure they’re the right ones.”

“What am I supposed to do?” I asked. “I can’t abandon the girls. I can’t let it kill them.”

“I’m not saying you should,” Henry said. “You just don’t know enough. You think I’ve lived this long because I’m powerful? I’ve lived this long because I’m careful.”

“So, you’re saying my plan makes sense?”

“Hell, no. Pack up and head to Florida. Sip a fruity drink on a beach.
That
makes sense.” There was a long sigh on the other end. “Watch your back, Sam. The Sister’s too. She’s a hard woman, but she’s only human. You protect her and she’ll protect you.”

“Thanks for the advice,” I said dryly.

There was a long pause and then Henry said, “Try not to get yourself killed, boy. Stake him before he puts you in the grave.”

The entrance to
the motel was largely asphalt, but time and neglect had left it cracked like a jigsaw puzzle. Weeds grew through the cracks at every opportunity. I killed the engine and the momentum of the truck carried us past the front and onto the dirt where a parking lot had once stood.

The remains of the motel’s sign were covered with vines and weeds, the name long since removed. The building was set at least fifty yards back, and extensions jutted from each side of the A-frame. It was hard to tell in the dark, but the building appeared to be in shambles. The paint was peeling in some places and missing in others, making the original color hard to discern. Time and age had stained the white room doors a dirty shade of yellow.

I pointed at the white Ford Explorer parked in the dirt lot, near the back of the building, as the truck coasted to a stop near the front. We sat there for several minutes, no one making a sound.

“You think it’s in there?” I finally whispered to Callie.

“Do you feel it?” she whispered back.

I cleared my mind, exhaled, and tried to open myself to the night. So many lives depended on finding Santiago. The idea of failure stirred up emotions, feelings of guilt and remorse that I didn’t have time to deal with.

None of that will matter if we die.

Slowly, very slowly, a feeling took root inside my head. I could say it was like a million crickets chirping inside my head, or like an electric current buzzing through power lines, but none of that conveys the sheer malevolence of a vampire’s presence.

“Yeah,” I said. “It’s here.”

There was a rustling as Callie withdrew her crucifix. “It’s not glowing,” she said.

She had a point. We had no idea how physically close she had to be for the crucifix to shine. “Santiago
has
to be in there,” I said.

Tommy sat statue-still in the darkened cab. “Do you think it heard us?” he whispered.

“Most likely not,” I said.

“How do you know?”

“On account of we’re not torn apart,” I whispered back.

That shut him up, and then I heard the sound of him withdrawing his Glock.

“What do we do now?” Callie asked.

“It’s time we kill that thing,” I said, opening the door as quietly as I could. I got out, my boots thudding against the dirt, reached behind the front seat, and grabbed two wooden stakes, which I placed in loops sewed inside my trench coat, then handed Callie her shotgun.

Callie got out and removed her crucifix, leaving it dangling between her breasts. Tommy got out last, moving very slowly.

“I wish I had my squad car,” he whispered.

“So you could call your deputy friends to the slaughter?” I asked.

He flinched. “You’re right. They’re not prepared to handle this.”

I only hope
we
are.

“You’re the deputy,” I said. “What do you think?”

He pointed to the A-frame. “That was the front office. I would bet it’s in one of the rooms closest to the front.”

Callie placed her hand on the deputy’s shoulder. “We are betting our
lives
on this.”

Tommy cocked his head, squinting at the darkened building. “I’m sure.” He handed me his Glock, which I took, and removed his heavy brown coat and placed it on the front seat. “No sense in wearing that,” he said, reaching for his gun. “It will just slow me down.”

I handed him his Glock. “Let’s do this.”

Callie spoke so softly it was barely audible, even with my enhanced hearing. “Blessed Michael, Archangel, defend us in the hour of conflict. Be our safeguard against the wickedness and snares of the Devil. Amen.”

I motioned to the motel, leaving the truck door open, the cab still dark. I pulled my Kimber as we crept closer, the buzzing in my head warring with the pounding of my pulse. Every footstep sent tiny explosions of ice-pick-sharp pain inside my skull, building to the mother of all migraines.

Worse, it made me feel foggy, and I couldn’t afford to be foggy. We were about to face an apex predator. Foggy would get us killed. I remembered Henry’s warnings, but there was no choice.

As we got closer, I smelled the place, the must and mold that permeates old buildings and tickles the nose making my hackles stand up.

It was a reminder. Everything gets old. Everything decays.

Tommy reached the door closest to the former office and pointed to the grimy windows. Dirty curtains covered them from the inside, but light flickered around the corners. It was a sight I knew well. There was a television inside.

A television means power, and power means someone is living in this shithole.

I was sure it was Santiago. I tapped Tommy on the arm and nodded at the door. Together, we each took a side. Callie stood well back, away from any struggle, cradling her shotgun.

I heard the faint sounds of trucks and cars from US-30, half a mile to the south. A dog barked in the distance, a constant yap-yapping that grated against my nerves.

No matter how hard I strained my hearing, I detected no sounds from within the motel room.

Tommy reached for the dented doorknob. He held his Glock in his right hand, ready to enter. I removed a stake from the loop in my trench coat with my left and held my Kimber in my right.

We weren’t taking chances.

The vampire could have heard us. The Chevy wasn’t exactly silent, and although I had rolled in, the tires had swished against the dirt and scrunched a few small rocks when they caught in the tires. The vampire
could
be waiting on the other side of the door, ready to tear into us.

Or, maybe it was in a blood lull, its belly full of warm liquid life from the Mendoza girls, eyes glazed over in a stupor after it enjoyed its satisfying meal.

I nodded my head and Tommy twisted the doorknob. It spun freely and he pushed against the door. I moved forward, shouldering the door open, hell-bent on killing the vampire I knew we would find.

Only, there was
no
vampire.

The room stank like a slaughterhouse, but was empty except for a few moldy chairs against a small round table and a bed covered in filth. An old tube television flickered with black-and-white static in the corner. I had an eerie memory of that movie where the little girl with the pale skin and long platinum hair leaned against the television. Until that image, I wasn’t sure I could be more spooked.

As it turns out, I could.

Tommy followed me in, his Glock moving around the room looking for a target. He found none and cursed. “Shit.”

Callie brought up the rear. As she approached the door, her crucifix blazed to life.

Santiago emerged from the shadows behind her, moving so quickly I barely saw his talons rake across her back. She yelped in pain as she slammed forward into the room and into Tommy. She plowed into him like a linebacker. He hurtled at me, a blur of feet and arms, and Callie’s crucifix went dark.

I would have been plastered against the far wall, if not for the change. I sidestepped, moving just in time for them to collapse in an ungainly heap against the stained carpet.

I wasn’t completely spared. Callie lost her grip on the shotgun, and it fell to the floor and came to rest under my foot just as I took a step.