H.T. Night's 8-Book Vampire Box Set (129 page)

I tried to let my face go a little vacant
and spacey-eyed as I slipped into a monotone. “I’m here to devote
my full attention to the teachings of Erasmus Cole. I’m just
another lost soul seeking The Answer.”

He looked like he wanted to torment me a
little more but some headlights were approaching from behind. He
waved me through. “Park down by the main building and turn in your
clothes and keys. They’ll assign you to a bungalow.”

The parking lot didn’t have any security
lights, and the entire place seemed to be dark. I knew the
Cloudland sales pitch was based on removing all the distracting
luxuries of modern life, but I didn’t think they’d send us back to
the Stone Age.

Not that I was complaining, because the
concealment allowed me to open the trunk and remove the false panel
along the back. Parker rolled out from a fetal position, shaking
her hands as if they’d fallen asleep.

“Took you long enough,” she said.

“Just making conversation,” I said. “It’s
important not to draw undue attention.”

“One thing for sure about you, Spider,
people can’t ignore you.”

If I’d been a little closer to my old human
self, I might have taken that as a compliment. But now I was just a
guy with a job to do. I could feel good about myself later, when
the bodies stopped piling up.

“I’m going to check in. You wait over there
in the trees until I give you the all-clear.”

“By the way, why do you have a false
panel?”

I couldn’t tell her that I stored my blood
supply there when I picked up a shipment, so I told her the only
other story that would make sense. “I’m a drug smuggler when I’m
not in night school.”

“You’re funny, Spider.”

“So I’ve been told.”

Chapter Thirteen

I guess once they let you drive through,
their security gets less and less invasive. After checking in, with
all the impersonally efficient process of a hotel or hospital or
funeral parlor, I made my way to the assigned bungalow and decided
to have Parker wait again in the car. I scanned the hallways and
building and saw no trace of a security camera system. I guess they
didn’t have security cameras on the inside because they didn’t want
possible witnesses to Erasmus Cole’s games.

When the coast was clear, I led her up to
our room. It was nice and clean, but relatively unadorned, with a
potted plant and a desk but no television or radio. A couple of
robes and towels were folded up on the bed.

“One bed?” Parker asked.

“What did you expect? I enrolled by myself.
It might have thrown up a red flag if I asked for a second bed, and
I hadn’t planned on company, anyway. I told you, I like to work
alone.”

“Well, I’m not sleeping next to you for an
entire week,” she protested.

“Then you better like hard carpet floors
because there’s no way I’m giving up this bed.” I was actually
careful about saying the word “sleeping.”

“You just better not turn out to be a little
pervert.”

I looked at Parker and nearly threw a fit.
“Are you kidding me?”

“Look, I think I can trust you, but...”

Then it dawned on me what was happening. She
had alternative reasons for not sharing a bed with me. For some
reason, she didn’t want us to be alone together at night. “Where do
you propose I sleep?”

“I can make the floor in the bathroom
comfortable.”

I looked at Parker and nearly laughed out
loud. “If you want to make the bathroom floor comfortable enough
for someone to sleep on, go right ahead. Knock yourself out.
There’s no way on God’s green earth that I’m going to drop the kind
of money I did to get into this place and not have a comfortable
bed.”

“Fine, I’ll sleep in the tub.”

“What happens when I have to pee?”

“Don’t drink liquids after six p.m. and go
to the bathroom before you go to bed.”

Wow, she really was up to something. I
looked inside the bathroom, and sure enough, it had a large window.
Parker had clearly noticed at some point in the conversation and
she took the only choice available once she realized I wasn’t
budging. Or maybe that had been her choice from the start.

“Shh,” I said to Parker.

She raised her eyebrows, but obeyed me for a
change. Of course, my hearing was much more acute than hers. She
wouldn’t have heard the footsteps.

I looked over at the door and a paper slid
under it. I walked over and looked at the piece of paper. It was
the official itinerary, complete with a groovy Mount
Shasta-at-sunrise logo.

 At the top, it read: Opening
Sanctification- Mellow Meadows, 8:00 p.m.

Shit, that’s in 15 minutes!

“Looks like I won’t be able to sit around
and chat, Parker. I have a cult meeting to get to.”

Parker nodded at me. “I’m sure those are
words you never thought you’d say.”

“Never say never. Well, maybe sometimes. So,
what are you going to be doing while I’m in session?” I asked.

She held up some of the pamphlets lying on
the desk. “I’ll read up on The Answer to all of life’s little
problems. Maybe I’ll learn a little more.”

“Absolutely, under no circumstances, leave
the room!” I ordered as sternly as I could.

“Yes, sir.”

“And don’t answer the door for anyone,” I
pressed.

“This ain’t my first rodeo.”

She’d said she’d been to Cloudland a couple
of times, and maybe she knew her way around. Especially if this was
her dad’s place. I wouldn’t be surprised if she had gotten full
access and a behind-the-scenes glimpse at the family empire. After
all, most dads are pretty proud of both their achievements and
their daughters. Of course, her dad might also have sacrificial
intentions on Parker as well.

I quickly changed into my robe in the
bathroom, and it had a little hood so I flipped it up and pulled it
low over my eyes. When I stepped out into the main room, I was
relieved to find Parker had stayed put.

“Nice look,” she said.

“No time to shave my legs,” I said. “Where’s
Mellow Meadows?”

“Down the sidewalk and between the three big
buildings. You can’t miss it. It’s the big grassy area with all the
people in robes.”

“Simple enough.”

Parker was right. Once I made it out the
rear entrance, the surrounding buildings all opened onto the grassy
commons. A crowd milled about in twos and threes, all wearing the
same hooded robes. Judging by the lithe and shapely legs, most of
them seemed to be young women. Some weird New Age music was
playing, flutes and triangles and the occasional random harp. I
looked around the compound and saw probably sixty people.

At the upper end of the commons was a slight
rise of stacked stone, like an outdoor stage. A few tall trees
hovered over, but the dominant feature was a hulking stone statue
that was chiseled from volcanic stone. It looked simultaneously
primitive and hideous, with a blunt and vaguely feminine face,
rounded stone boobs, and a grass skirt.

If that’s the “feminine divine” old Erasmus
keeps raving about, give me an eighteen-year-old any day.

But the statue appeared to be pretty
important, because laid out before it was a huge slab of stone that
looked like a table...or altar. A rock wall marked the back of the
stage, with a couple of openings made with stacked pillars that had
a Stonehenge vibe.

Mount Shasta was prominent in the
background, catching the thick slice of moon and sparkling with a
soft glow. I had to hand it to Erasmus, if he was trying to wow
some kids into drinking his special brand of Kool-Aid, he couldn’t
have picked better scenery. The night was clear and cool, and the
backdrop was mystical.

The crowd was sedate, whether from special
substances or just mellowing out because of the meadow, but there
was a faint buzz of expectation. I walked around with my hood
pulled low, eavesdropping for clues, but most of the conversation
was of bands, movies, boyfriends, and the same kind of stuff you’d
overhear at a university student union.

After about ten minutes, Erasmus emerged
from somewhere off to the left, probably from a luxury bungalow. He
wore the same robe we did, except his was long and flowing,
sweeping the ground behind him. He looked a little different than
when I’d encountered him in his Volvo a week before. He looked calm
and paternal, as if he’d been rehearsing.

Or maybe he really believed in his own brand
of Nirvana.

I clung to the back edge of the crowd,
keeping a broad view of the events. Everyone fell silent as Erasmus
sat cross-legged on a boulder. He spread his arms, palms open.
“Hello, my children,” he said, his voice carrying all across the
commons.

What kind of guru-godly-goop was this? Was
he being serious? I swear this was like a bad episode of
Punk’d.

“During this week you will constantly be
facing your demons. Through a series of exercises we are going to
peel back your inner core and find out why you all have chosen the
paths you follow. I know some of you are runaways. I know some of
you are prostitutes. I know some of you are recovering drug
addicts. I know some of you have done heinous things that you can’t
even bear the thought of re-remembering. This week is about
forgiveness. This week is about finding yourself and making sure
you’re whole.”

Wait a second! Who does he market this to?
Runaways? Prostitutes? The worst of the worst, as long as they had
barrels of cash to offer?

The security guy out front had really
thought I was gay, perhaps even a gay prostitute. This place was
delving in the bottom of our society. But not the very, very
bottom. The Answer made sure that only the attractive could be
salvaged and redeemed.

I looked around the crowd, and many had
their hoods down, revealing comely, rapt faces and shining eyes.
Everyone was gorgeous. Why had they let me in, aside from the fact
that I’d laid out a stack of money? There would be only one reason
to let me in. They’d assumed I was a minor and there was a huge
perv here who liked teenage boys.

Maybe even Erasmus Cole himself.

Well, if he wanted a kiss, he might get a
little more than he bargained for.

Chapter Fourteen

I had a bad feeling, and when I have a bad
feeling, that’s saying something.

No surprise there. It didn’t take a psychic
to get a bad feeling about this place. Sure, it was cheery enough.
The commons were brightly lit, with old-fashioned carriage lamps
set on posts to augment the moonlight. There was a snack table off
to the side, which hadn’t appealed to me because my hunger was of a
different kind. There was even a big crystal bowl of punch. Blood
red.

Focus, Spider.

Everyone seemed in a state of bliss as
Erasmus droned on about how together they were all brothers and
sisters, all part of the same world, all children of the clouds.
But something was clearly off. I glanced around the perimeter, and
now there were big, stocky guys in uniforms circling around like
wolves herding sheep. While I didn’t see any of the young disciples
making a break for it, or even appearing uneasy, the atmosphere
changed slightly, as if Erasmus was about to deliver the real sales
pitch.

I realized how vulnerable the group was,
softened with promises, removed from their loved ones, isolated
from the past they had known. How he had lured these folks up here,
I haven’t a clue. Maybe this was a legitimate retreat...for some.
Maybe a handful of folks really did leave this place feeling
enlightened and alive.

Maybe.

Others, I suspected, were not so lucky.
Others, like Parker’s friend, Cindy, in his trunk drained of all
blood, never left here again. Alive, that is.

And then I saw something that would have
caused my breath to catch in my throat, if I had breath. A
prominent politician, a Democratic senator, in fact, had just
entered the stage from behind the stone statue. He nodded to a
burly security guard, who nodded back. The senator was followed by
a celebrity. A very wealthy celebrity famous for his action movies.
He, too, stepped in, nodding to the security guard. And it
continued like this for the next few minutes. Politicians,
prominent business leaders, heads of state, more celebrities, all
issuing from behind the little stone wall.

And all of them were looking upon the
participants, me included, with only one thing:

Hunger in their eyes.

Yeah, I had a very bad feeling about this
place, indeed.

* * *

Erasmus droned on with his message of hope
and deliverance, expounding on “The Answer,” which involved
surrendering to the larger mysteries of life while following a path
of simplicity. It sounded a little contradictory to me, but in a
way, it was sort of like what I’d done when I finally accepted I
was a vampire. After all, I didn’t ask to be the way I was, but
didn’t I have a right to survive just like everything else on the
planet?

The big wigs gathered around Erasmus, but
they didn’t kneel or anything. I suspected they were the kind of
folks who didn’t kowtow to anyone, and probably saw Erasmus as just
another service worker or deliveryman—he set up the butcher shop
and the wolves swooped in for pork chops.

Erasmus raised his arms, and the wide
sleeves of his robe slid down to his elbows. Stage lights, probably
strung along the back of the stage, lit up brilliantly behind him,
revealing the giant statue in better detail. It was twenty-five
feet in height, grainy, and grotesque-looking. Her crude nose and
lips were broad, and deep crevices of eyes were set in a face that
was like a hammer. Her limbs were thick and sinewy, and I had the
distinct feeling that I had just entered the first circle of
hell.