Rule of Vampire (5 page)

It was a typical Crescent City day: overcast, drizzling a slight rain that you almost couldn’t feel but that would eventually soak you to the bone if you didn’t seek shelter.

The old man took her to a thrift shop a few hundred yards away from their hideaway. He introduced her to the manager, Marc, who let her come in and pick out a wardrobe of warm clothes. She filled a garbage bag with clothing items.

Then Billy took her about half a mile down the road, onto a side street that was rarely traveled by cars. A soup kitchen had been set up, and men, women, and children were seated at picnic tables, being served a warm meal. The drizzle had stopped and the clouds were dispersing. The coastal winds would clear the sky of cloud cover by noon, and Jamie started getting anxious.

As if he could sense her alarm, Billy led her back to his home.

“Me and the boys are heading north for rest of the summer,” he said after they had crawled through the tunnel and were standing in the “living room” again. “We always wander up to Bend, Oregon, this time of year. But you’re welcome to stay here as long as you want, Jamie.”

It was then that Jamie realized what Billy had done for her. He’d shown her how to survive.

Jamie hadn’t cried since she’d been Turned, even when she’d left Sylvie behind. But now her eyes filled, and she put her hands to her face. The three men patted her on the back awkwardly, which only made her cry more.

She watched them leave, hoisting their backpacks and smiling. After they were gone, it was as if someone had cut the wires that had been holding her up. She fell into the tangle of blankets and sleeping bags the men had left for her, and it seemed as if she didn’t fully wake up for days.

When she finally did wake up, she was ravenous: not for the food the men had so thoughtfully left behind, but for blood. Fresh, warm, living blood.

She tried to fight it. But without really being conscious of what she was doing, she dressed in the nicest clothing she could find in her new bag of garments and headed out into the night.

#

“That girl has had it hard,” Billy said as the three of them exited their winter getaway. He’d felt almost like a father, showing her around; like the father he hadn’t been able to be to his own children. “She’s like a lost kitten or something.”

“Yeah,” Patrick said. “But did you notice underneath all that grime and smell that she’s drop-dead gorgeous? I mean, what the hell is a woman like that doing down here?”

“You guys are fools,” Cam muttered. “She’s one of
them.
The night creatures. We’re lucky we got out alive.”

Billy laughed. “You are one weird motherfucker.” Cam was always going on about monsters. Other than that, he was a great guy, fun to be around. But every once in a while, he started spouting that kind of crazy talk.

It was dark by the time they reached the edge of town and stuck out their thumbs. “Should’ve left earlier,” Cam muttered, “instead of babysitting some monster.”

“Jesus, Cam, give it a rest,” Patrick said.

A pickup went roaring by. It was huge, with a double cab and a long bed.

“The bigger the truck, the smaller the dick,” Billy said as it passed them.

It slowed down and backed up.

“I take it back,” Billy said.

There were two young men up front and two more in the backseat. “Jump in the bed,” the driver said, grinning. “We can take you as far as Cave Junction, at least.”

Billy and Patrick moved toward the back, but Cam stayed rooted to the spot.

“No way,” he muttered to Billy, loud enough for everyone to hear. “Can’t you feel it?”

“Feel what, you fool? A free ride?”

Billy could see that Cam wasn’t going to move, so he came back and spoke insistently into the motionless man’s ear. “We’ll be in the back. If they get out of the cab and start moving toward us, we’ll skedaddle, OK?”

It was starting to drizzle again. Cam looked miserable; the rain seemed to be falling on him harder than on everyone else, and his hair was dripping down his forehead. He gulped and followed Billy. Patrick put out a hand and helped them up.

The pickup shot out of there without warning, throwing the three men into the bed. Cam nearly went over the side. “Told you so!” he shouted.

They headed up the highway, but just before the Oregon border, the truck veered off onto a gravel road. Billy and Patrick exchanged alarmed glances. Cam’s face turned white, and he stared back down the highway stoically as if to say
Told you so
again.

The driver slammed on the brakes and they slid for a couple of dozen yards on the loose gravel, sending the pickup sideways and nearly throwing all three of them over the side this time.

Before the wheels even stopped moving, the men in the passenger seats were flying out of the doors and rushing toward them. To Billy’s eyes, they were a blur, they were moving so fast. He didn’t wait to see what would happen, but sprang over the side and ran for the trees. He wasn’t as old as he looked. He cultivated that appearance for just such situations.

He ran into the woods and desperately looked for a place to hide. He was an expert at hiding places; he’d spent his whole life seeking them out. He practically dove at the base of a tree, knowing instinctively that there was a tree well beneath the thatch of leaves. In seconds, he had concealed himself.

One of the men had followed him, but he’d been behind a screen of trees when Billy made his move and was now turning around and around in the clearing, searching intently. His eyes looked as if they were glowing, and Billy surmised that the creature could see in the dark. Cam had been right.
Monsters.
Billy realized that he wasn’t really surprised, that he’d somehow always known things like this existed.

Now the monster was sniffing, as if he could smell Billy. He turned toward the tree and Billy froze, but then he moved on, and finally, he angrily shook himself like a dog that had just lost a fight. “Shit!” the monster said, and ran back toward the pickup.

Stay where you are,
Billy thought.
Don’t fucking move.
But he heard Cam screaming, and before he knew it, he was digging himself out of his hole and crawling back toward the road.

He lay flat on the ground and watched helplessly.

They’d pushed Cam and Patrick against the truck and were standing in front of the two quivering men as if soaking in the fear their victims were radiating.

The driver of the pickup stood a little off to one side, as if he enjoyed watching his friends, almost as if he was supervising them. He was slender, with floppy brown hair and black-rimmed glasses. “They’re all yours,” the driver said. “You won’t believe the rush.”

The smaller of the other two guys turned toward him. “What do we do, Stuart?” he asked.

“You eat them, dumbshit.”

The biggest of the attackers moved first, closing in on Patrick, who screamed as loudly as he could, as if he was actually expecting someone to hear him and save him. His scream was cut off as the monster bit into Patrick’s neck and tore out his windpipe.

Meanwhile, Cam had sunk to the ground, and even from this distance, Billy could tell he had voided himself. The other two monsters––vampires, for that’s what they were, Billy finally admitted to himself––fell on him from either side, and Billy saw chunks of flesh flying into the air. Cam didn’t make a sound.

Billy couldn’t watch any longer. He crawled back to the tree well and hid for the rest of the night, alternating between shaking, crying, and cursing.

But through it all, he vowed revenge.

Chapter 8

Terrill had barely closed the front door behind him when he shouted, “I’ve found her!”

Sylvie appeared from the kitchen, her face lighting up. “For sure?”

“She’s in Crescent City,” Terrill continued. “She even used her own name.”

He’d been serving up stew at the soup kitchen in St. Francis when Perry appeared at his side and said, “You need to come with me.”

Terrill handed the ladle to one of the cooks and followed Perry into the dining room. An old guy was sitting by himself in the corner. Terrill slowed down, sensing that the man had recently experienced some kind of trauma.
I hope it wasn’t Jamie,
he thought.
No, what am I saying? I hope it
was
Jamie!

The story came out of the man reluctantly. His name was Billy, and it was clear that he didn’t trust anyone in authority, even someone at a soup kitchen. But Perry kept murmuring reassurances, and eventually Billy came out with it. Jamie, as it turned out, was only incidentally involved.

The story was as bad as anything Terrill had ever heard. These vampires were wild, completely untrained. It was probable that Jamie had created them, by not taking the proper precautions, by breaking Rule Two: Never leave the remains of a kill. It was all the more reason to find her and bring her home.

“You’re saying she’s one of them?” Billy said, scowling. “This Jamie girl?”

Terrill thought about how to respond. “They”––he had nearly said “we”––“aren’t all the same.”

“They suck blood, right?”

Terrill nodded.

“Then they’re all the same.” Billy said. “They all need to die.”

Terrill didn’t bother to argue. The cross on his chest seemed to grow heavier all of a sudden, as if his body was remembering its old existence. Vampires were exceedingly rare. Billy and his friends had been unlucky. The chance of him ever running into another vampire was unlikely.

Terrill went to Father Harry and asked for the afternoon off.

“What you’re doing is voluntary, remember?” the priest said.

“I didn’t want to leave you in the lurch.”

“Go!” Father Harry boomed. “Tell Sylvie! Quit wasting time!”

So that’s what Terrill had done.

Sylvie was ready to leave that moment, without packing, without any planning whatsoever. Terrill sat her down at the kitchen table.

“You need to be prepared for things not turning out the way you hope,” he said.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean she may not want to come back. She may not want my help.” Terrill had been so focused on the search that he’d been putting off thinking about what would happen when they found Jamie. All he could really offer was to mentor her, to advise her, to keep her safe.

He wondered what he would do if she refused to stop hunting people. In all of vampire history, Terrill knew of only two vampires who had voluntarily quit killing humans: himself and his maker, Michael. Both had been very old vampires when they’d made that decision, with centuries of feeding behind them.

Jamie was a baby vampire, and the bloodlust was always strongest early on. She wouldn’t be able to help herself. If Terrill enabled her and she continued killing, then he’d be as guilty as she was.

“But you can keep her safe, right? Tell her how to survive?” Sylvie was asking him.

“Yes, Sylvie,” he said. “But survive to do what? What if she wants to continue killing? You want me to help her then?”

She shook her head, and he could tell that the ramifications weren’t sinking in. Of course Jamie would stop killing, she was probably thinking. But Sylvie didn’t know what it was like. There was no way for her to know––she’d never felt the hunger.

I’ll figure it out on the drive down,
he thought.
There’s got to be a way.

Terrill was loading up his Toyota when he saw the Escalade down the street. He sighed. He’d waited until late in the evening in hopes that they’d give up, thinking that Sylvie and Terrill had gone to bed around midnight, as usual. Obviously, that hadn’t worked. He walked toward the SUV and Clarkson got out to meet him.

“Trying to escape?” she asked.

“You said you’d give me a week,” he said. “Can you give me ten days? I should be back by then.”

She was blank-faced. It was impossible for him to tell what she was thinking. “Why?” she asked flatly.

He told her about Jamie, how he had become her Maker, and about the battle with Horsham.

“She got bad advice,” Terrill said. “I need to help her.”

“She’s alone?” Clarkson asked. “Without anyone mentoring her?” Terrill knew that this was one of the reasons the Council of Vampires had been created in the first place. Untutored vampires were a danger to everyone: they showed little judgment or caution. Rules of Vampire didn’t mean anything if there was no one to teach them to.

“All alone,” Terrill said. “And not doing so well.”

Clarkson stared off into the distance, then seemed to come to a decision. “I’m going with you,” she said.

Terrill felt a chill. Who knew what the Council would do to Jamie? She was probably breaking every Rule in the book. “That isn’t necessary,” he said.

“I insist.”

As Sylvie and Terrill drove out of town, he looked in the rearview mirror and saw two black Escalades following close behind.

#

Without stopping, it was a five-hour drive to Crescent City. Once or twice, Terrill accelerated and tried to lose the Escalades, but it was no use. It was a stupid thing to do. If he got in an accident, the consequences for him and Sylvie could be dire, whereas the vampires behind him would regenerate in minutes.

Crescent City was the kind of place that Terrill would’ve gravitated toward when he was still a vampire. It wasn’t safe to hunt human prey there, for it was a small town, and small towns tended to notice strangers and strange occurrences. But in his later existence, when he’d subsisted on the raw flesh of animals, it would’ve been a good hiding place. It was usually overcast, with lots of thick vegetation.

Billy had reluctantly given them directions to his hideaway. It was still dark when they drove into town. Terrill decided to stop at a diner and have breakfast. He was still learning that he needed to refuel his human body with food a few times every day. If he didn’t remind himself, he’d forget. He’d start to feel faint and Sylvie would scold him.

Sylvie and Terrill sat at a table near the windows. Clarkson came in after them and sat down next to him, followed by her three goons, who sat at the next table over. She didn’t say anything, just watched as Sylvie and Terrill ordered ham and eggs. Terrill thought he saw her curl her lip, but that was probably just his imagination.