The Falstaff Vampire Files (30 page)

“He makes a good breakfast,” Mina said, winking at me. “Hang onto this guy.”

“After I have some coffee maybe I’ll be able to think of a snappy comeback, but for now I’ll just agree with you.”

“Too late. I’ll be on the bus to work by then. We’re eating in shifts, because of the size of your kitchen,” Mina said. “I’m going up on Grant Street to get a Chinese gong at lunch today. It’s not far from where I work.”

I smiled at her, and realized suddenly that as frightened as we all were, the terror she had felt that had brought her into therapy seemed to have vaporized. She looked like a woman with a mission.

“I’ve got to go,” Mina put her plate in the sink. Bram waved her on, and I said I’d wash the dishes.

“We’ll get the stuff we need for tonight—except for the pork,” Bram said. “I think we should go to a restaurant with good barbecue for dinner and get a mess of takeout.”

After feeding the cats I sat with my coffee and ate some of the toast and jam Bram had got out. Then I looked up to realize he had left the room several minutes ago, and not come back.

I got up and first looked outside. The garden seemed deserted in the daytime. No sign of him. Then I made my way back to the bedroom where he had laid down and now was snoring gently. I curled up next to him, and after a little while a few of the cats joined us.

We slept for awhile and woke to make love with the urgency of those who are not sure they will live to see another day.

Larry consented to go to lunch at short notice, and I was nearly moved to tears to see how happy he was that Bram and I had found each other.

“You both deserve to be happy,” he said kindly. “Now we’ll have to find a bigger flat for you two.”

“No argument there,” Bram said. “I’m up to my elbows in cats at her place.”

Our eyes met and shared the fear that we might not make it through the night. Mina called to say she’d found a gong, complete with rope and drumstick. I realized I’d forgotten to ask her if she’d got incense, so we went down to a one-stop-shopping import store on Clement Street. We could have gotten the barbecued pork in the Chinese deli next door, but we decided to wait till closer to evening. We walked past the mansions of Sea Cliff, stood awhile looking at the Golden Gate Bridge from China Beach. Then we walked back to the cottage to shower and change.

Mina came home from work before sunset, carrying a package with a flat brass gong about 17 inches across, suspended from a small rope. There was a padded drum stick that went with it, and it made a penetrating
Bong!
sound when struck. We set up matches and incense ready to use. They seemed like fragile tools to combat the gray hordes.

We walked back down Clement Street looking for the ideal restaurant. Waiting for sunset, we ate a meal that was carefully vegetarian—none of us wanted to eat anything that might attract ghostly attention. The waiter gave us an odd look when we asked for a huge takeout order of barbecued pork.

Vi arose at dusk, and the Others appeared in the garden, swarming all over the house. Only a few were inside, but they were harder to ignore. When Sir John and Mrs. Battle arrived, the Others who were indoors followed us outside to join the crowd in the garden.

Sir John led the march. The Others followed, like a crowd rushing down on the field at a sporting event, mobbing the players. They floated all round us and never touched us, but we had to avoid eye contact from hundreds of eyes.

Chapter 79

Kristin Marlowe’s typed notes

September 1st continued

As we started down the sidewalk,
three official-looking vampires walked up to the house. One wore a blue coat and trousers that had a vaguely uniform look to them without any identifying badge or marker. The other two wore conservative black suits. I would have said they were FBI if I hadn’t known that they were part of the vampire world.

All three men held themselves very stiffly and were careful where they directed their eyes. I’d be willing to bet that they had never seen so many Others together in one place. They may have mastered the art of the blank expression, but the swarming hordes were scaring the hell out of them. Me too. But I’d been scared for weeks now, so I had more practice.

“Sir John, you know me,” the man in blue said.

“Indeed, sir, you are the Bailiff of the Night Court.”

“We have called you to a reckoning, Sir John, and you have not appeared.”

“Excuse me, gentlemen, but I had other pressing matters.” He gestured to the crowds of Others. The creatures swarmed around the three vampire officials, who appeared to be clenching every muscle to continue to stand there and not acknowledge them.

“Sir John, I summon you to the Night Court. You, Violet Semmelweis, and any human companions.” The man in blue looked uncomfortable. “Mrs. Battle. I didn’t expect you here.” He turned back to confer with the other two vampires.

The older of the two men in black moved to stand in front of Mrs. Battle. “Identify yourself, please, ma’am.”

“I am Mrs. Amanda Battle—Instructor in Elementary Vampire Life,” she said. “Violet Semmelweis is my pupil.”

The man in blue brought a folded document out of his vest pocket. It looked like a legal document, except that the cover was black rather than blue. The three men examined it. “You are not listed on my warrant, Mrs. Battle. This warrant specifically states Sir John, known as Sir John Falstaff, Violet Semmelweis, and any humans in their company should be brought before the Night Court of San Francisco.”

“You’re the Bailiff—who are these two?” I asked.

“We are Federal Vampire Investigators here to accompany the local authorities. We may need to deal with you ourselves as risks to the greater community.”

Sir John nodded as if conferring a favor. “Gentlemen, we will honor your warrant, but you must come with us first. We have the means to deal with a certain infestation, of which you must be well aware.” He jerked his head toward the mass of Others swarming around us. “Surely we’ll all be more comfortable after these rascals are banished.”

“You can do that?” the younger FVI man blurted out. His companion gave him a nasty look.

“Come and see.”

“You must see this in the interests of science and public safety, gentlemen,” Mrs. Battle said with a calm air of command.

“Very well, our writ can wait till you do this, as long as you don’t leave our sight.”

Sir John said to light the incense.

Bram produced a lighter, and I held out a few joss sticks of sandalwood. The smoke began to rise, but it had no effect on the Others. None. They simply pressed closer around us, ignoring the incense.

Vi’s house on Clement was about fifteen blocks from the former cemetery and now golf course. We started out to walk toward it with Sir John and Vi in the lead. Bram, Mina and I followed. I carried the incense, she carried the gong, and Bram carried two big white bags holding four steaming orders of barbecued pork. Mrs. Battle walked with the officials, talking softly to the bailiff and FVI agents.

The Others floated and eddied around us. There were so many that it was hard to see the sky or the houses on either side of the street.

I kept the incense burning. The smoke drifted slowly backward in narrow trails as we walked. It was a rare San Francisco night that was cold and clear, without a breath of wind or a patch of fog. The first stick finished as we neared the golf course. The main entrance was a few blocks away, but we stopped where the grounds began.

The south side of Clement Street was all houses—looking across the street at the thicket of trees and very high chain link fence that marked the beginning of the golf course. It was hard to imagine that all of this had once been a cemetery. But in the dark night, even the street lights couldn’t dispel a chill of dread. I looked at the row of houses, their windows lit against the darkness, but shut away from us and unable to help, or even see, the danger that we faced.

“Do we have to go into the golf course?” Mina asked.

Mrs. Battle’s voice was low but penetrating, “No. The fence, trees and roadway came later. We stand on their graves even now.”

“What about the takeout?” Bram held up the bags.

“Leave it capped for now. We’ll need it in good time.” Sir John’s voice sounded hollow. “Smoke’ll draw ‘em. Light more incense.”

Bram pulled out his lighter and held out a handful of sticks of sandalwood incense. The smoke rose straight up. Still no wind.

The night was eerily clear and cold. Then suddenly gray mist began to rise. But not from the west, like the ocean-bred fog.

This fog poured through the bushes surrounding the golf course.

“Should we call them somehow?” Mina held up the gong. “Tell me when to hit it.”

“Hungry ghosts, we wish you well,” Bram said, as if he had been preparing something. “We bring you incense.”

“And sounds,” Sir John bellowed out. He nodded at Mina. “Now!”

Mina hit the drumstick to the gong she carried. The sound was clear, high pitched, resonating on the cold air.

“We invite you to feast on these tasty creatures from another dimension,” Bram said.

“Bram!” I didn’t yell, but spoke louder than I expected. “You don’t want to offend them.”

“No. They are well pleased,” Sir John said. “Ring the bell again, and keep ringing it until I say to stop.”

Mina hit the gong several more times

“Stop now.” Sir John’s voice was calm. “Look. They come.”

I felt it. We all felt it. Mina froze with the stick halfway to the gong.

The air grew suddenly so much colder that the humans among us could all see our breath. Mist rose from the ground and poured toward us, rustling the bushes and trees.

The Others froze uncertainly. I had never seen them hesitate. The fog enveloped them and us. For the first time their red eyes dimmed, wrapped in a fog that excluded the humans and vampires.

“Can I put the gong away?” Mina asked Sir John.

“Yes, do so.” Sir John said.

She shoved it in her shoulder bag.

“Quickly get back!” Sir John, cried out. “Across the street out of the fog.”

A crowd of half-formed, vague shapes materialized out of the mist, outnumbering the Others tenfold.

It was oddly silent. I heard a voice whispering. Mina had dialed her cell phone and was talking to someone. Even as she talked she kept her eyes riveted on the gray cloud that was surrounding the Others, and I turned my eyes back there.

For the first time we were able to get away from the mass of Others. Something in the fog that grew thicker and thicker around them was holding them back from following us.

Mina snapped her phone shut and put it in her pocket.

In total silence we could see ghostly figures swarming around each of the Others.

In total silence they began ripping them apart. Strangely glowing silver blood began to flow from the Others wounds and puddle in the street. I wanted to turn away, but couldn’t.

A second battalion of misty forms swept through the trees into the street as if drawn by the silver liquid that poured from the Others. Ghosts that were crowded out swarmed on the wet ground, crouching down to lap up the spectral blood.

We watched from the sidewalk on the other side of Clement Street.

Some of the Others tried to escape the fog to reach us, but dozens of cold white arms wrapped round them and pulled them back. The ghosts grew clearer as they devoured the Others, taking on vaguely human shapes made of fog.

Still the gray forms, rose from the golf course, poured through the fence and trees, riding on a nonexistent wind.

“Ten thousand, did you say?” I asked.

“Some say more.” Mrs. Battle murmured.

“All they have left is hunger,” Sir John said. “Seldom something comes into their sphere that they can eat. Most times they make do with fumes from cooking, and strangling the unwary jogger.”

I could hear a very faint, woeful vibration. My ears heard nothing, but I felt a soundless wail pierce my bones. From a distance the fog might have been formless. But from just across the street we could see the Hungry Ghosts circling the Others, falling upon them, tearing them limb from limb, and fighting over every scrap. The night grew colder and colder and the fierce mists of an army of ghosts grew clearer and clearer to our sight. Stalking and ripping at the Others, who struggled in their clutches.

The Bailiff and the FVI agents stood as paralyzed in awe as the rest of us.

No noise reached us, although some of the Others screamed, scrabbled to fight back, their life-draining eyes and mouths flickering and snapping.

“Why can’t they drain them—like they do to humans and vampires?” Mina asked softly.

“No life to drain,” Mrs. Battle answered even more softly.

In the total silence we heard the creak of a bicycle and saw another horde of Others approaching, a huge mass around Ned, and more trailing behind as he pedaled Lucy’s bike so fast that he nearly fell when he got near us and braked to a halt.

“Bring them into the fog and then move out!” Sir John yelled, with a tone of command I had never heard before.

Ned rode toward the fog, and the crowd of Others around him piled in as well. Some seemed to sense the danger immediately and tried to get away, but it was too late. They were quickly enveloped by thickening fog.

“Ned. Quick, come over here!” Mina called. We all called out to him, and he came slowly out of the fog, wheeling the bicycle. When he reached our little group on the sidewalk, he turned back to look and saw what the ghosts were doing. Now they had captured the whole group of Others Ned had brought.

“It’s ones who were swarming Hal’s house,” Mina whispered.

Ned’s hoarse breathing from his bike ride was the only sound for a minute. “What are they doing?”

No one answered him.

“They’re killing them,” Ned cried out. “No!”

“That’s what they were trying to do to us,” Vi said.

Ned looked around wildly. “Mina, you didn’t say that they were eating them.” He started back toward the horde. “Lucy!”

Sir John simply reached out and restrained him with one hand.