Lost Boys fanfic: The Enemy (8/?)
Sunday, 1 May 2011 23:45![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
prepare4troubleTitle: The Enemy
Author: Prepare4trouble
Warnings: A bit of language, nothing major
Characters: Edgar Frog, Alan Frog
Spoilers: Majorly for the Thirst
Synopsis: Edgar finds himself fighting a war on two fronts when a power vacuum leads to an explosion in the vampire population at the same time as he finds himself learning how to cope with his own set of fangs
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7
Edgar felt himself relax the moment he heard the door close. Alan's scent still lingered in the air. It wasn't one particular smell, it was a combination of several that combined to mean Alan. The smell of his sweat masked by the clean smells of his soap, shaving cream and deodorant, the faint smell of vampires, that stench of decay and death that followed the undead around. He had encountered it while searching the house, he assumed. But over and above all the other smells, was the scent of his blood.
It had followed him into the trailer, surrounding him like a cloud that once he was inside had begun to expand until it filled every inch of the room. Edgar's growing hunger had seized hold of him with both hands and forced him to pay attention.
Alan had been right. He wasn't in control. The vampire in him, or the part of him that was a vampire, was not so easily silenced. He shouldn't be where people were. He knew that. He had known it even as he was arguing his case, and yet he was still angry at Alan's refusal. It made no sense. Nothing made sense any more.
Outside, he heard the familiar sound of the engine of his truck firing and wheels turning on gravel as Alan drove away. Only now did he turn around and watch through the window as his brother disappeared into the distance, off to fight his battle for him. That was the it, wasn't it? If he had a problem, he dealt with it himself; he wasn't used to letting someone else take care of it, having to trust someone else like that. Even when the someone else happened to be his brother, it was just not in his nature.
Of course, Alan was only fighting half the battle. The other half, the more difficult half, Edgar had no choice but to take on alone.
That one, he would gladly share responsibility for, if he could.
No. He felt his hands clench involuntarily as he banished the thought from his mind. Alan had fought this particular monster for five years, or one very similar. Edgar would never let that happen again.
The scent of blood still lingered in the air. Edgar tried not to breathe as he opened the door and windows, letting it out into the night air.
Hunger gnawed at his insides, still manageable, but impossible to ignore. Relief was only a few feet away from him, but he couldn't do it. He couldn't open that bottle and drink from it. Even if refusing made him more of a danger to others. When he had no choice, he would do it. He had done it before, he could do it again, but if he could put it off for as long as possible, perhaps they would find the head vampire before he was forced to drink again.
He stepped outside through the open door into the cool night air. It felt good, like plunging into the sea on a hot summer's day. Not that he had ever done that very often, for too many more important things to take care of. Running the shop, making sure Sam didn't get himself into any more trouble with vampires, looking out for Alan too. He could take take care of himself, but Edgar's self appointed position as leader made him responsible.
A lot of good he did at any of those things in the end. The shop was gone, Sam was gone, Alan had almost followed him, and now he, too was fighting the darkness.
He sank down onto the metal step outside his trailer and looked around. He could see everything so clearly, better even than human eyes had in the sunlight. It was almost hard to believe it was dark. He looked upward. The sky was a deep, inky blue, not black as he had used to think, and it was full of stars. More stars than he had ever seen before. Thousands, tens of thousands of tiny points of light shining from light years away, but their tiny flickers of light reached his eyes and allowed him to see through the darkness. The few small clouds hovering overhead stood out against the sky. Had he ever seen clouds at night before? Once it had gone dark, they had only every existed as patches without stars, barely noticeable. Now, he could see them clearly.
He could make out every leaf on every tree. Each piece of gravel on the ground. He would be able to sit out here and read with no difficulty, if he wanted.
A breeze blew, so light that he barely felt it. It rippled through the leaves of the trees just beyond the edge of his property, and he watched them move, listened to the gentle rustling sound as then brushed against one another. He shouldn't be able to hear that from so far away.
He closed his eyes, blocking the distraction of the high definition night scene ahead of him, and concentrated on what he could hear. The wind continued to ripple through, touching the trees, blowing small fragments of gravel, sand and salt across the ground. In the far distance, he could make out the cry of a bird, some other night time predator hunting in the darkness. Something scuttled along the ground underneath his trailer; a rat, most likely. Another of his nocturnal companions.
He heard his own heart thumping slowly in his chest, pumping tainted, half vampire blood through his veins and arteries. Other than the local nightlife, he was completely alone.
He leaned back on the step and took a deep breath, savoring the feeling of air filling his lungs, stretching his chest to full capacity. It felt good. For the first time since this had happened, despite the mild hunger still burrowing a cavity in his stomach, he felt okay; relaxed and calm. He had needed the night time. Needed the feeling of the darkness surrounding him, his natural environment. He had been wrong. It wasn't like sinking into the cool water of the sea on a hot day, it was much, much better.
In the back of his mind, he knew that he shouldn't feel relaxed about anything right now, but the calmness overrode that particular worry, and for a moment, he allowed himself to simply enjoy it.
But the moment passed too quickly, and restlessness returned. He got to his feet and stretched. He didn't want to go back inside, even the idea of being indoors made him feel trapped and claustrophobic. Instead, he walked into the shed he used as his workshop, and brought out some of his tools. The intention was to catch up on some work. His day job was the one that paid the bills, or at least went part way to paying them, but his daytime activity was severely limited for the moment.
He set up his equipment and began to work on a board that he had started the day before this had happened. The material was half shaped, rough and incomplete. He sat on his stool and ran the tips of his fingers over the surface, trying to evoke the memory of working, crafting something. Concentration eluded him. The intensity of everything that he could see and hear distracted him, and when he began to work, it felt wrong. His hands didn't work in the way they usually did. He was applying too much pressure to the board, even when he tried to use a light touch. The result was misshapen, a victim of the unfamiliar strength in his hands and arms.
Frustrated, he gave up and turned his attentions instead to sharpening stakes. It was monotonous work, but it was something that he could do, something that would allow him to switch off his brain for a while and not have to think.
***
Zoe was waiting for him outside the Book O'Neer. She was dressed for hunting, in dark colors, black jeans and a long sleeved cotton shirt, with flat heeled boots. Over her shoulder she had slung a bag. She was leaning against the window of the shop on one leg, with the sole of the other foot pressed against the glass. Alan pulled up to the curb and waited for her.
She raised a hand in greeting as she jogged the few steps to the truck, opened the door and got inside. She placed her bad on her knee as she fastened her seat belt. It was a black canvass shoulder bag containing something bulky, a strange shape. Alan eyed it as he began to drive.
“Been shopping?”
Zoe frowned at him in confusion before she followed his gaze downward, glanced down at her lap and realized what he meant. She put a hand inside and pulled out a heavy duty water gun with an air pump to propel the water further. “Edgar gave it to me,” she told him. “I thought it might come in handy.”
Alan nodded. He pushed the gas further down and propelled the truck around a corner.
“So where are we going?” Zoe asked.
Alan didn't reply. He turned a second corner and brought the truck to a stop in a parking spot right next to the beach. It was a popular area during the day and the night. The daytime brought crowds of holidaymakers strolling hand in hand along the boardwalk or sitting in the sun, but the night attracted an entirely different kind of crowd.
Many of them were locals and many would be visitors, the teenage kids of the couples who had been here during the day, the older brothers and sisters of the children who spent the daytime running in and out of the sea or building sandcastles. They staggered drunkenly from bar to bar, flashing fake IDs at uninterested bouncers who waved them though without even checking. Easy pickings for the vampires. This would be where they hunted, luring unsuspecting victims away from their friends, draining them of blood and ensuring that the body disappeared. This would also be where they recruited, adding to the ranks, arming their side with extra soldiers in the war for dominance over the area.
He didn't know whether one side or both would be active here, but they would find vampires here, he was sure of it.
“Keep that gun hidden,” he told Zoe. “Don't let them see it or you'll tip them off. We're here for information, not just to kill. We need the location of the head vampire. There are two of them, and we don't know which one we need.”
“Two?” Zoe gasped.
He nodded in confirmation. “But only one of them will cure Edgar. Have you done this before? Patrolling?”
She shook her head. “I've fought vampires before, but only after they attacked me.”
It was early still. The evening crowds were only just beginning to gather. He switched off the lights of the truck to avoid drawing attention. “We're in a public place, vampires are pretty cautious, they won't openly attack anyone here, but they will hunt here and lure their victims away. We just need to spot them, follow them, save the victim and then try to get the information out of the vampire before we kill it.”
Zoe nodded. “Simple as that, eh?”
In reply, Alan swung open the door and climbed out. He heard Zoe take a deep breath and exhale a loud sigh as she followed his lead.
It was full dark, and had been for hours. The crowd was beginning to thicken and somewhere among them, vampires watched and waited. Alan locked the door to the truck and checked the open back section, making sure it contained nothing of any value. It was empty. He began to walk into the mass of bodies, and Zoe followed.
People never change. Time goes on, fashions alter, the music leaking out of the bars gradually shifts over the decades into something else, but the people remain exactly the same. All preoccupied with the persist of alcohol, drugs, sex, something to make their lives that little bit less unbearable. It had been exactly the same in Santa Carla, older teens and younger adults hanging out on the boardwalk with cans of beer, going down onto the beach away from the bright lights to use illicit substances or steal a few minutes with some girl or guy they don't know.
Alan had hated it then, and time had done nothing to soften his opinion. He had never been like that, Edgar neither. They had no interest in achieving oblivion, rendering themselves defenseless against the monsters. Just the idea of it, of deliberately putting himself in a position where he was out of control, made him remember bloodlust and helplessness.
Two girls, barely out of their teens, staggered past on heels too high to walk. They gripped each other's arms tightly for support, giggling loudly at their own intoxication. Their skirts were short, revealing the maximum amount of leg possible, and their hair and make up, carefully fixed and applied at the beginning of the night were messy and smudged.
As they tottered across the road, they suddenly veered off to one side as though the ground under them had tilted unexpectedly. They managed to stop just before they fell, and continued on their way, laughing all the louder.
Alan sighed to himself. Some people were almost asking to get bitten. If they knew the truth, he wondered whether they would let their guard down so easily.
“How's Edgar?” Zoe asked him suddenly.
Alan turned to look at her, he had almost forgotten she was there. He shrugged and shook his head.
“I called him,” she told him. “In the day, so he wouldn't answer. I left him a voicemail. I know he won't reply, but at least he knows I'm thinking of him.”
“Yeah,” Alan gritted his teeth. “He won't reply.”
They reached the edge of the strip of bars that ran opposite the beach and turned around to walk back again.
“There aren't any vampires here,” Zoe told him quietly.
Alan nodded. Most of the people surrounding them were still sober, not yet the easy pickings they would be later in the night. “We're too early,” he said. “They probably come later, when people are more suggestible. That's what I'd do.” He froze, realizing after the words had already left his lips what he had actually said. “I didn't mean that how it sounded,” he said.
Zoe shrugged. If he had been talking to Edgar, that comment would have resulted in days of awkwardness. “It's what I'd do too,” she told him. “Lets go in one of these places, see if they're hiding out inside.”
Without waiting for an answer, she began to march in the direction of the closest bar. The music leaking out into the street had a more rock beat than some of the other places. She smiled at the bouncer as she walked inside, Alan followed reluctantly.
He found himself in a large room, in the center was an oval shaped bar displaying every drink imaginable. The lights were bright around the bar, but the rest of the room was dark. Around the edges of the room were tables where people sat sipping their drinks, occasionally leaning over to yell in someone's ear. The small dance floor was empty; it was was less busy than he had imagined. But it was still early.
Zoe glanced around and shook her head. She turned to him and said something. He watched the movement of her lips, but the words were lost in the music.
“What?”
She leaned closer and cupped a hand around his ear. “I don't think there are any vampires here,” she shouted.
He glanced around again. It would be impossible to tell just by looking, but the few people in the bar seemed to be arranged in small groups, all looking fairly comfortable with one another. No obvious strangers trying to tempt someone away, no shady looking characters scanning the crowd for victims. Other than himself, obviously.
He leaned over to Zoe and shouted, “Let's get out of here.”
She winced at the volume and pulled away, then shook her head. “They'll turn up eventually, we can just wait. It's more fun than walking up and down outside.”
The track switched to something with a faster beat and a few people stood up and wandered to the dance floor. Alan shook his head. Clearly, Zoe had a different idea of what was fun than he did.
“Don't look so wary, you'll draw attention,” she added, before she walked up to the bar, leaned over and ordered something.
Alan took a deep breath. He had thought he was in charge. The air smelled of stale beer and sweat. He sat down at a table near the door, giving himself a good view of anyone that walked in or out.
Zoe returned with two bottles of water and handed one to him. The lid was still sealed, no risk of tampering or contamination. He saw Zoe watching him and nodded. She knew what she was doing. He opened the bottle and took a sip.
The door opened and a large group trooped inside and immediately to the bar.
Zoe sat back in her chair and observed them. “Now this is a good way to hunt,” she said. “We should tell Edgar about this technique.”
Alan didn't reply. Somehow, he didn't think Edgar would agree with her. On the other hand, if it worked, it was worth remembering.
***
Edgar didn't have many wooden stakes any more. The vast majority of his collection were made of metal, mostly lightweight alloys; easy to transport, and lower maintenance than the traditional wood. Also, less likely to break, and easier to use. Over the years, as his old wooden stakes had begun to fall apart, he had replaced them with the more modern equivalents. The few remaining ones were rarely used.
He always took at least one with him on a hunt, some kind of superstitious idea about tradition, but for the most part, it stayed in its holster or even in the truck. When you got blood on a metal stake, you could just wipe it off. Wood stained. Although he thought it gave him a certain kind of credibility to show that his weapons had been well used, there came a point where it started to look lazy.
But metal stakes don't need sharpening. A stake doesn't need to be particularly sharp, there is no need to file it down to a knife. Wood needed less sharpening than he gave it, but the activity was calming, it was something that could be done without thinking, a way to focus himself. In a way, it was almost a form of meditation, and it was that that had eventually led him into the surfboard business.
Once every remaining wooden stake in his arsenal had been sharpened and the worst of the staining filed away, he got to his feet. Some time had passed, but he didn't know how much. Several hours, at least.
He briefly considered trying another board, but his body was too unfamiliar now. The activity that had become second nature to him had suddenly become awkward and strange. What had happened had made him stronger as well as the other more obvious effects, and he literally didn't know his own strength.
No wonder Alan had been having trouble readjusting. Losing that strength must have made him feel suddenly so weak, losing the enhanced senses would feel like going almost deaf and blind.
He got to his feet and stretched, reaching his arms above his head and pushing them to one side and then the other, feeling the burn of stretching muscles. He mustn't get used to it. He mustn't allow the advantages he had over his human self to begin to feel normal. But while he was stuck like this, he needed to know what he could do.
It was more than just curiosity. That was part of it, the desire to understand this strange body that was his and not his at the same time, to test its limitations, to know what he was capable of. But it was more than that. It was important to know. If he ever found himself fighting while in this state, he needed an idea of his strength and stamina. He wouldn't use a weapon without having tested it first, this was the same. Part of him didn't want to know, but he needed to.
He started by running. He was in decent shape, he trained every day, and he knew how far and how fast he could run before his muscles should begin to protest and exhaustion should force him to stop. He set out on his usual course; an elliptical route of about two miles that took him in a large loop around the area surrounding his property. He could jog it easily, but tonight he set out at a sprint.
Arms and legs pumping, he could feel his heart beating hard, but not particularly quickly as keen eyes picked out every potential hazard on the dark path. His breathing quickened, but no more than if he had been taking a quick walk. He increased his speed, forcing his legs to propel him faster and faster. He wished he had a way of measuring his speed, he passed his starting point at the trailer and continued, racing at high speed, but barely feeling it.
For a second time, he passed his trailer. This time, he forced himself to slow to a stop. He drew in a deep breath. He felt good. Not tired, not even the good kind of fatigue that comes after the adrenaline rush of exercise. He felt as though he had warmed up, ready for some training. He wanted to do more.
***
At the night wore on, the bar became fuller and fuller. Bodies brushed against him as they made their way to and from the bar, the temperature rose to near unbearable levels as more and more people attempted to squeeze their way inside what had seemed like quite a large room when they had arrived.
Alan hated crowds. He always had done. Too many people all together in one place made him uncomfortable, they could be anyone. A small group can be watched carefully, each person scrutinized for any signs that they may not be who they say they are. In a place like this, it was impossible.
The music had grown louder as the bar grew progressively more full, and the dance floor was by now filled with gyrating bodies, people dancing as only those under the influence can. In their own minds, even the most average person was suddenly transformed into a god or goddess of rhythm, imagining that every eye in the place was trained on them, watching appreciatively as they swayed their body in time with the beat of the music, mouth moving along with the words.
All around the place, there were people standing alone or in small groups, watching. There were others approaching what looked like complete strangers, trying out their terrible chat up lines. Half the people in there were looking for someone to leave with. Anyone could be a vampire. Even Alan himself, sitting very still and quiet, having long ago given up on the possibility of conversation could have been mistaken for a predator as his eye moved over the crowd searching for his pray.
Someone touched his hand lightly. It had been resting on the tabletop, and he pulled it away at high speed, jerking his head around to stare at the perpetrator. Zoe smiled apologetically but didn't attempt to say anything over the music. Instead, she nodded to her left, eyes fixed on one of the bar patrons. Alan tried to follow her gaze, but the room was too full to decide who she was indicating, there were dozens of possible vampires there. In any other situation, he would have been able to spot a bloodsucker easily and without any doubt in his mind.
He shook his head, telling her that he didn't see. Zoe got to her feet and made her way to the door, still holding the bag containing her water gun in one hand. He followed her, dodging his way through the crowd and out onto the street.
The rush of fresh air as he exited the bar was one of the most wonderful things he had ever experienced. As the door closed behind him, the music was silenced. The air was cool and smelled of the sea, and he reveled in the sudden solitude. It was, in a strange way, like the feeling of suddenly regaining his humanity, a level of intense discomfort that had been going on so long it had began to feel normal was suddenly stripped away, and the relief of normality was almost overwhelming. It took a moment to recover and remember what it was that they were actually doing. He looked around and spotted Zoe waiting for him a few paces ahead.
He jogged the few steps to catch up and she pointed to a couple walking slowly away down the street. The girl was clearly drunk or high or something. She leaned on the man for support as he walked slowly but purposefully, leading her into the maze of the old town streets. He moved with complete confidence, no sign of intoxication at all. Alan watched him critically, there was something else about the way he moved, a kind of fluidity to his motion. He didn't walk like a human.
Alan's eyes narrowed as he watched them leave, not letting them get away, but allowing a little distance to grow between them. This wasn't a simple stake the vampire, save the victim job. He needed information, and he could get it by tailing his pray, so much the better. As he watched, he slipped his hand underneath the side of his jacket and ran his fingertips over the concealed stakes in his belt holster, checking they were still there. He pulled the UV flashlight from the deep side pocket, and glanced at Zoe. The Supersoaker was already in her hand, the empty bag slung over her shoulder.
“Ready?” he asked.
She nodded, and Alan began to follow. Zoe walked at his side, the water gun in her hand, but held slightly behind her to make it less obvious. Alan tried to match his pace to the vampire's, not letting him get too far ahead, not allowing the gap between them to close. Zoe's expression was set into grim determination.
The streets in this older part of town were maze-like; short, narrow streets full of corners, odd junctions and dead ends, it would be easy to get lost there, and easy to lose someone you were following.
Alan kept as far back as he dared. The vampire would know they were there. If he couldn't hear their footsteps or the beating of their hearts, the smell of their blood would reveal their presence. For now, he might assume they were two people from the bar, walking home in the same direction. But with every step in the same direction, they gave themselves away a little more. Wherever he was leading them, it was unlikely to be where his pack hid from the sun.
When the vampire finally turned a corner into a dead end alley, Alan jogged ahead, no longer worrying about whether they had been noticed, just wanting to save the girl before the vampire could sink his fangs into her throat. He rounded the corner at a sprint with Zoe close behind him. The girl was on the ground.
She was kneeling on the concrete, leaning forward with her hands touching the ground as though she had fallen or been pushed. It was too dark for human eyes to make out any detail, but her throat looked unmarked. She was breathing heavily, as though she had been running.
The vampire was waiting for them. He stood near the girl, facing the entrance to the alley. Alan's stake was already in his hand, he raised it and pointed it at the monster. It smiled, displaying sharp fangs. Suddenly, with no warning, the vampire leaped into the air and propelled himself forward, flying at high speed toward Alan and Zoe. Zoe pointed her water gun and got a shot off, but missed. Alan stood his ground, stake at the ready, his finger touched the switch of his flashlight. Before he could turn it on, the vampire had reached him. He swung his stake, ducking his head to avoid the impact. He missed, but so did the vampire. He felt the swift movement of air as the monster passed him and disappeared into the night.
He switched on the UV flashlight and swung it around, searching for the vampire, but it had disappeared from sight. Of course, that didn't mean it wasn't hiding somewhere, waiting, watching.
“Think he gave up without a fight?” Zoe asked, sounding unconvinced.
Alan shook his head. “I doubt it.”
He swung the flashlight once more in every direction, and then turned to look at Zoe. She was crouching by the girl, who was still kneeling on the ground, trying to help her to her feet. The girl was being less than co-operative.
“Come on, you're safe now,” she said, trying to coax the girl into a more upright position.
Alan resisted the urge to assist, Zoe was probably more suited than him to reassuring a victim after a failed attack. When it came to vampire slaying, he could handle the hunt and he relished the battle, the was the other things that he had trouble with, things like this. Edgar was equally useless, it was a Frog family trait, keeping the touchy-feely to a minimum. When absolutely necessary, they had used to leave it to Sam.
He kept his flashlight switched on, shining it in all directions, covering Zoe in case the vampire returned. The beam of UV light it produced made the rest of the alley appear darker still in contrast. He kept moving, hoping that if the vampire returned for his meal, he would be caught in the beam. He half hoped it would return. This wasn't supposed to be a rescue mission, they were here for information, and that was something that the girl wouldn't have. Behind him, he could still hear Zoe trying to coax her to move.
Suddenly, Zoe let out a shocked gasp. It was followed by a scrabbling noise as she quickly backed away, getting to her feet as she did. Alan spun around immediately, shining his light, his other hand tightening around his stake, expecting to find that the vampire had flown in from behind him. He froze in shock when he instead found the girl, still half sitting on the ground, her eyes glowing softly in the darkness with the beginnings of hunger.
Zoe got to her feet and stood uncertainly, watching her. The girl stared back, squinting against the glow of the light in Alan's hand. Her eyes were confused and afraid, tears were beginning to run down her cheeks. She shook her head. “What's going on?” she asked.
Zoe glanced at Alan briefly, before she took a small step forward. “It's okay,” she said. “We're going to help you. Right, Alan?”
Alan didn't move. He stood frozen in place, staring at the girl in horror. This really wasn't going according to plan.
She looked back at him, still confused and frightened, probably knowing that something terrible had happened to her, but not understanding what. Not yet. Soon, the hunger would grow, and then she would begin to understand.
“He must have turned her in the club,” Zoe guessed. She turned back to the girl. “Did he give you anything to drink? Or maybe he could have put something in a drink you already had?”
The girl clambered to her feet. “Tell me what's going on!” she said. Her voice was louder this time, more assertive, but also more afraid. She looked from Zoe to Alan and back again, still squinting in the artificial sunlight.
Alan turned away. There was nothing he could do. It was too late, the damage was done. “It doesn't matter how he did it,” he said to Zoe. “It's done.”
Soon, the girl would succumb to the bloodlust already growing inside her. She would probably fight it, but eventually she would kill. He couldn't help her. He couldn't even help Edgar, as much as he wanted to. This was just some random girl, one of possibly hundreds in the same position. He couldn't help them all. It wasn't possible. His fingers tightened around the stake in his hand. This kindest thing would be to end it now, while she was still more or less herself, before she became a monster.
As though she had somehow read the thoughts running through his head in the clutch of his hand on the stake, Zoe was staring at him out of the corner of her eye. She focused most of her attention on the new half vampire in front of them, but somehow, she was watching him warily. Or maybe it was his guilty conscience.
He looked at the girl, and at his stake, and he couldn't do it. It wouldn't be right. Once, he wouldn't have hesitated, but that was before he had been on the other side. Now, his grip loosened and the hand holding the stake dropped to his side.
Satisfied, Zoe's full attention returned to the girl – the vampire – in front of them. But if he couldn't kill her, what could he do with her? She couldn't be allowed to go free, she would make a kill quickly and join one side or the other in the war, maybe even going on to turn more innocents. But he couldn't take her anywhere to hide; couldn't foist the responsibility onto Edgar, not with what he was already dealing with, but couldn't take care of her himself as she couldn't be trusted in the presence of a human.
He didn't even know if she would want to fight what she was. She wouldn't understand what a vampire truly was. When she felt the first pangs of hunger, she might choose to feed rather than suffer the constant need. She wouldn't understand what she was giving up. Not like he had; like Edgar did.
The glow in the girl's eyes had gone now, and she looked human; a frightened girl who had just seen some of the horror in the world.
“What's your name?” Zoe asked her.
The half vampire shook her head, looking quickly from Zoe to Alan, and then she folded her arms tightly across her chest and drew herself up to her full height, trying to look authoritative and instead coming across like a little girl demanding something from her parents. “Tell me what's happening,” she said. “Who are you, who was that man, and how did I end up here?”
“We should move out,” Alan said, ignoring her questions, “then work out what we're going to do with Draculina here.”
“What. Is. Happening?” The girl spoke slowly and clearly, loud enough that no one could miss the question. “I'm not going anywhere until you answer me.”
Zoe glanced at Alan. She nervously tucked a nonexistent strand of dark hair behind her ear, and them turned to face her. “The thing is, something's happened to you, and I don't know if you're going to believe us if we tell you, so it'd be better if you just...”
“You're a vampire,” Alan interrupted. It came out more harshly than he intended and somehow seemed to hang in the air, reverberating around the silence that it had created.
Zoe turned to stare at him.
“A half vampire,” Alan corrected. “The guy you were with probably spiked your drink with blood, and if you don't want to turn all the way, you need to listen to us.”
The girl stared at him in shock for a second, but the expression quickly changed into terror. Not at what had happened to her, but of him. She didn't believe him. Of course she didn't believe him. Suddenly, with no warning, she bolted, escaping Zoe's hand on her shoulder and speeding past Alan and away into the pitch dark streets of San Cazador.
“Shit,” he muttered under his breath.
Zoe was staring at him, wide eyed and incredulous. He opened his mouth to say something else, but before he could make a sound she had also begun to run away, following the girl.
“Don't,” he told her. “Vampires are fast; you'll never catch her.”
“I can catch her,” Zoe told him, and disappeared into the night.
Suddenly finding himself alone in a badly lit area of town at night, Alan began to feel very exposed. He waited for several minutes, expecting Zoe to return empty handed. Even a brand new half vampire could outrun an Olympic sprinter if they had reason to, and he had certainly given her reason.
He shook his head, frustrated with himself. Of course the girl was going to run from the crazy guy telling her she was a vampire. And now he had set another vampire loose on the city. But a part of him was relieved that she was no longer his responsibility. There would have been no way to help her short of killing the head vampire, and no way to know whether she and Edgar shared a head vampire or not. They could have killed him, freed Edgar and found that she was still a vampire. Then what?
Things had been so much easier when the world was black and white. Vampires were the enemy, half vampires included. You find one, you kill it.
Things would never be that simple again.
After five minutes, he began to worry. Zoe should have been back by now, unless something had happened to her. Cold dread began to fill his chest and expand outward through his veins and arteries. If something happened to Zoe, Edgar would never forgive him. If Edgar found out now, while he was still a half vampire, there was no way to predict what he would do.
Tucking the UV light under his arm, he fumbled in his pocket for his cellphone as he began to hurry in the direction she had gone. He had only added her number that evening, an afterthought, just in case. He scrolled through the phone book as he ran, paying very little attention to the streets around him. Finally finding her name, he called the number and listened to the ring at the other end of the line.
Somewhere nearby, he heard a tune that sounded vaguely familiar. The theme tune to some show he had watched as a kid. He lowered his phone from his ear and listened carefully, then began to run in the direction of the sound.
The street lighting was better here, and he flicked off the UV light as he ran, phone almost forgotten, still clasped in his fist, following the sound of the ringtone. He rounded a final corner and came to a complete stop, staring in confusion at an untidy pile of clothes pushed up against the wall of a building as though that would make them unnoticeable.
Hesitantly, not sure what to do, he reached out and nudged the pile with his fingertips. Through the fabric, he could feel the phone vibrating. He canceled his call, and the ringing stopped. Next to the clothes was the water gun, and Zoe's boots.
Alan turned around, peering through the yellowy streetlighting into the darkness beyond, looking for any clue as to what had happened. There was none. The street was empty and silent. It was as though Zoe had simply vanished into the air, leaving behind everything that she had worn or carried.
He turned back to the clothes and stared for a moment. If anything had happened to Zoe, she wouldn't have had the time or a reason to do this, which meant that she was probably okay, or at least that when she had done this, she had been okay. It would help if he knew exactly what she was. He should have asked, but she had known he didn't know and she hadn't volunteered the information. It was possible that this was completely normal for her. Likely, even.
He decided to wait where he was for her to return. Whatever she was doing, and wherever she had gone, she would eventually need to come back for her stuff.
Something hit him. It happened so quickly that it wasn't until after it had happened that he registered the sight of something moving quickly toward him and the feeling of wind on his face. It hit him in the chest, hard enough to knock the wind out of him.
Alan staggered backwards until he hit the wall. The UV light in his hand dropped to the ground, hit the concrete and broke open, spilling the batteries onto the ground. He bit back a curse and looked around for whatever had hit him, but he appeared to be completely alone.
He dropped to his hands and knees and began to pick up the stray batteries. As he did, the same thing happened again. This time, the something that hit him felt like a fist, an incredibly strong fist that struck him on his jaw. He was knocked backwards again, this time hitting his head hard against the brick wall. For a moment, the world disappeared, replaced by a flash of white light accompanied a burst of intense pain. He heard laughter.
His head pounded, each beat of his heart bringing a fresh burst of agony. Alan forced open his eyes to see the blurry, watery image of a man standing over him. He struggled to focus his vision. The man took a step forward and grinned. His teeth were sharp fangs. Trying to ignore the pain, Alan struggled and failed to get to his feet. The UV light was still in pieces, so he reached for Zoe's water gun, pumped the handle and squeezed the trigger.
A plume of water shot from the barrel, but the vampire dodged easily. He laughed again and shook his head. “Why were you following us?” he asked.
Alan fired again. Again, the vampire dodged.
“Whatever the reason,” he said, “it was a mistake.” He stared down threateningly at Alan. “I'm just trying to decide, do I kill you, or do I turn you? I suppose a hunter would be a useful addition to the pack in times like this, but on the other hand,” he grinned again, baring his fangs. “I'm hungry.”
Alan fired for a third time, this time moving the gun quickly from side to side, soaking as large an area as he could. The vampire dodged again, but misjudged and the stream of water cut across his chest. He hissed in pain as it soaked through his clothing and touched his skin. Alan pumped the gun again and fired. Pain slowed the vampire's movements and this time he hit him directly. The vampire staggered backwards, eyes searching from left to right as though looking for backup.
Alan ignored the pain in his head and forced himself unsteadily to his feet. His spare hand went to his holster, grabbing a stake. He fired again. The vampire took to the air and fled. He disappeared almost instantly into the night sky. Alan looked down at the gun, it was almost empty. The pain in his head grew worse, and the ground underneath him seemed to tilt. He sank back to the ground deliberately, before he fell, and allowed his eyes to slip closed. He knew he was leaving himself vulnerable, but by now it was out of his hands.
Unconsciousness claimed him, and it felt good to rest.
Part 9
Author: Prepare4trouble
Warnings: A bit of language, nothing major
Characters: Edgar Frog, Alan Frog
Spoilers: Majorly for the Thirst
Synopsis: Edgar finds himself fighting a war on two fronts when a power vacuum leads to an explosion in the vampire population at the same time as he finds himself learning how to cope with his own set of fangs
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7
Edgar felt himself relax the moment he heard the door close. Alan's scent still lingered in the air. It wasn't one particular smell, it was a combination of several that combined to mean Alan. The smell of his sweat masked by the clean smells of his soap, shaving cream and deodorant, the faint smell of vampires, that stench of decay and death that followed the undead around. He had encountered it while searching the house, he assumed. But over and above all the other smells, was the scent of his blood.
It had followed him into the trailer, surrounding him like a cloud that once he was inside had begun to expand until it filled every inch of the room. Edgar's growing hunger had seized hold of him with both hands and forced him to pay attention.
Alan had been right. He wasn't in control. The vampire in him, or the part of him that was a vampire, was not so easily silenced. He shouldn't be where people were. He knew that. He had known it even as he was arguing his case, and yet he was still angry at Alan's refusal. It made no sense. Nothing made sense any more.
Outside, he heard the familiar sound of the engine of his truck firing and wheels turning on gravel as Alan drove away. Only now did he turn around and watch through the window as his brother disappeared into the distance, off to fight his battle for him. That was the it, wasn't it? If he had a problem, he dealt with it himself; he wasn't used to letting someone else take care of it, having to trust someone else like that. Even when the someone else happened to be his brother, it was just not in his nature.
Of course, Alan was only fighting half the battle. The other half, the more difficult half, Edgar had no choice but to take on alone.
That one, he would gladly share responsibility for, if he could.
No. He felt his hands clench involuntarily as he banished the thought from his mind. Alan had fought this particular monster for five years, or one very similar. Edgar would never let that happen again.
The scent of blood still lingered in the air. Edgar tried not to breathe as he opened the door and windows, letting it out into the night air.
Hunger gnawed at his insides, still manageable, but impossible to ignore. Relief was only a few feet away from him, but he couldn't do it. He couldn't open that bottle and drink from it. Even if refusing made him more of a danger to others. When he had no choice, he would do it. He had done it before, he could do it again, but if he could put it off for as long as possible, perhaps they would find the head vampire before he was forced to drink again.
He stepped outside through the open door into the cool night air. It felt good, like plunging into the sea on a hot summer's day. Not that he had ever done that very often, for too many more important things to take care of. Running the shop, making sure Sam didn't get himself into any more trouble with vampires, looking out for Alan too. He could take take care of himself, but Edgar's self appointed position as leader made him responsible.
A lot of good he did at any of those things in the end. The shop was gone, Sam was gone, Alan had almost followed him, and now he, too was fighting the darkness.
He sank down onto the metal step outside his trailer and looked around. He could see everything so clearly, better even than human eyes had in the sunlight. It was almost hard to believe it was dark. He looked upward. The sky was a deep, inky blue, not black as he had used to think, and it was full of stars. More stars than he had ever seen before. Thousands, tens of thousands of tiny points of light shining from light years away, but their tiny flickers of light reached his eyes and allowed him to see through the darkness. The few small clouds hovering overhead stood out against the sky. Had he ever seen clouds at night before? Once it had gone dark, they had only every existed as patches without stars, barely noticeable. Now, he could see them clearly.
He could make out every leaf on every tree. Each piece of gravel on the ground. He would be able to sit out here and read with no difficulty, if he wanted.
A breeze blew, so light that he barely felt it. It rippled through the leaves of the trees just beyond the edge of his property, and he watched them move, listened to the gentle rustling sound as then brushed against one another. He shouldn't be able to hear that from so far away.
He closed his eyes, blocking the distraction of the high definition night scene ahead of him, and concentrated on what he could hear. The wind continued to ripple through, touching the trees, blowing small fragments of gravel, sand and salt across the ground. In the far distance, he could make out the cry of a bird, some other night time predator hunting in the darkness. Something scuttled along the ground underneath his trailer; a rat, most likely. Another of his nocturnal companions.
He heard his own heart thumping slowly in his chest, pumping tainted, half vampire blood through his veins and arteries. Other than the local nightlife, he was completely alone.
He leaned back on the step and took a deep breath, savoring the feeling of air filling his lungs, stretching his chest to full capacity. It felt good. For the first time since this had happened, despite the mild hunger still burrowing a cavity in his stomach, he felt okay; relaxed and calm. He had needed the night time. Needed the feeling of the darkness surrounding him, his natural environment. He had been wrong. It wasn't like sinking into the cool water of the sea on a hot day, it was much, much better.
In the back of his mind, he knew that he shouldn't feel relaxed about anything right now, but the calmness overrode that particular worry, and for a moment, he allowed himself to simply enjoy it.
But the moment passed too quickly, and restlessness returned. He got to his feet and stretched. He didn't want to go back inside, even the idea of being indoors made him feel trapped and claustrophobic. Instead, he walked into the shed he used as his workshop, and brought out some of his tools. The intention was to catch up on some work. His day job was the one that paid the bills, or at least went part way to paying them, but his daytime activity was severely limited for the moment.
He set up his equipment and began to work on a board that he had started the day before this had happened. The material was half shaped, rough and incomplete. He sat on his stool and ran the tips of his fingers over the surface, trying to evoke the memory of working, crafting something. Concentration eluded him. The intensity of everything that he could see and hear distracted him, and when he began to work, it felt wrong. His hands didn't work in the way they usually did. He was applying too much pressure to the board, even when he tried to use a light touch. The result was misshapen, a victim of the unfamiliar strength in his hands and arms.
Frustrated, he gave up and turned his attentions instead to sharpening stakes. It was monotonous work, but it was something that he could do, something that would allow him to switch off his brain for a while and not have to think.
Zoe was waiting for him outside the Book O'Neer. She was dressed for hunting, in dark colors, black jeans and a long sleeved cotton shirt, with flat heeled boots. Over her shoulder she had slung a bag. She was leaning against the window of the shop on one leg, with the sole of the other foot pressed against the glass. Alan pulled up to the curb and waited for her.
She raised a hand in greeting as she jogged the few steps to the truck, opened the door and got inside. She placed her bad on her knee as she fastened her seat belt. It was a black canvass shoulder bag containing something bulky, a strange shape. Alan eyed it as he began to drive.
“Been shopping?”
Zoe frowned at him in confusion before she followed his gaze downward, glanced down at her lap and realized what he meant. She put a hand inside and pulled out a heavy duty water gun with an air pump to propel the water further. “Edgar gave it to me,” she told him. “I thought it might come in handy.”
Alan nodded. He pushed the gas further down and propelled the truck around a corner.
“So where are we going?” Zoe asked.
Alan didn't reply. He turned a second corner and brought the truck to a stop in a parking spot right next to the beach. It was a popular area during the day and the night. The daytime brought crowds of holidaymakers strolling hand in hand along the boardwalk or sitting in the sun, but the night attracted an entirely different kind of crowd.
Many of them were locals and many would be visitors, the teenage kids of the couples who had been here during the day, the older brothers and sisters of the children who spent the daytime running in and out of the sea or building sandcastles. They staggered drunkenly from bar to bar, flashing fake IDs at uninterested bouncers who waved them though without even checking. Easy pickings for the vampires. This would be where they hunted, luring unsuspecting victims away from their friends, draining them of blood and ensuring that the body disappeared. This would also be where they recruited, adding to the ranks, arming their side with extra soldiers in the war for dominance over the area.
He didn't know whether one side or both would be active here, but they would find vampires here, he was sure of it.
“Keep that gun hidden,” he told Zoe. “Don't let them see it or you'll tip them off. We're here for information, not just to kill. We need the location of the head vampire. There are two of them, and we don't know which one we need.”
“Two?” Zoe gasped.
He nodded in confirmation. “But only one of them will cure Edgar. Have you done this before? Patrolling?”
She shook her head. “I've fought vampires before, but only after they attacked me.”
It was early still. The evening crowds were only just beginning to gather. He switched off the lights of the truck to avoid drawing attention. “We're in a public place, vampires are pretty cautious, they won't openly attack anyone here, but they will hunt here and lure their victims away. We just need to spot them, follow them, save the victim and then try to get the information out of the vampire before we kill it.”
Zoe nodded. “Simple as that, eh?”
In reply, Alan swung open the door and climbed out. He heard Zoe take a deep breath and exhale a loud sigh as she followed his lead.
It was full dark, and had been for hours. The crowd was beginning to thicken and somewhere among them, vampires watched and waited. Alan locked the door to the truck and checked the open back section, making sure it contained nothing of any value. It was empty. He began to walk into the mass of bodies, and Zoe followed.
People never change. Time goes on, fashions alter, the music leaking out of the bars gradually shifts over the decades into something else, but the people remain exactly the same. All preoccupied with the persist of alcohol, drugs, sex, something to make their lives that little bit less unbearable. It had been exactly the same in Santa Carla, older teens and younger adults hanging out on the boardwalk with cans of beer, going down onto the beach away from the bright lights to use illicit substances or steal a few minutes with some girl or guy they don't know.
Alan had hated it then, and time had done nothing to soften his opinion. He had never been like that, Edgar neither. They had no interest in achieving oblivion, rendering themselves defenseless against the monsters. Just the idea of it, of deliberately putting himself in a position where he was out of control, made him remember bloodlust and helplessness.
Two girls, barely out of their teens, staggered past on heels too high to walk. They gripped each other's arms tightly for support, giggling loudly at their own intoxication. Their skirts were short, revealing the maximum amount of leg possible, and their hair and make up, carefully fixed and applied at the beginning of the night were messy and smudged.
As they tottered across the road, they suddenly veered off to one side as though the ground under them had tilted unexpectedly. They managed to stop just before they fell, and continued on their way, laughing all the louder.
Alan sighed to himself. Some people were almost asking to get bitten. If they knew the truth, he wondered whether they would let their guard down so easily.
“How's Edgar?” Zoe asked him suddenly.
Alan turned to look at her, he had almost forgotten she was there. He shrugged and shook his head.
“I called him,” she told him. “In the day, so he wouldn't answer. I left him a voicemail. I know he won't reply, but at least he knows I'm thinking of him.”
“Yeah,” Alan gritted his teeth. “He won't reply.”
They reached the edge of the strip of bars that ran opposite the beach and turned around to walk back again.
“There aren't any vampires here,” Zoe told him quietly.
Alan nodded. Most of the people surrounding them were still sober, not yet the easy pickings they would be later in the night. “We're too early,” he said. “They probably come later, when people are more suggestible. That's what I'd do.” He froze, realizing after the words had already left his lips what he had actually said. “I didn't mean that how it sounded,” he said.
Zoe shrugged. If he had been talking to Edgar, that comment would have resulted in days of awkwardness. “It's what I'd do too,” she told him. “Lets go in one of these places, see if they're hiding out inside.”
Without waiting for an answer, she began to march in the direction of the closest bar. The music leaking out into the street had a more rock beat than some of the other places. She smiled at the bouncer as she walked inside, Alan followed reluctantly.
He found himself in a large room, in the center was an oval shaped bar displaying every drink imaginable. The lights were bright around the bar, but the rest of the room was dark. Around the edges of the room were tables where people sat sipping their drinks, occasionally leaning over to yell in someone's ear. The small dance floor was empty; it was was less busy than he had imagined. But it was still early.
Zoe glanced around and shook her head. She turned to him and said something. He watched the movement of her lips, but the words were lost in the music.
“What?”
She leaned closer and cupped a hand around his ear. “I don't think there are any vampires here,” she shouted.
He glanced around again. It would be impossible to tell just by looking, but the few people in the bar seemed to be arranged in small groups, all looking fairly comfortable with one another. No obvious strangers trying to tempt someone away, no shady looking characters scanning the crowd for victims. Other than himself, obviously.
He leaned over to Zoe and shouted, “Let's get out of here.”
She winced at the volume and pulled away, then shook her head. “They'll turn up eventually, we can just wait. It's more fun than walking up and down outside.”
The track switched to something with a faster beat and a few people stood up and wandered to the dance floor. Alan shook his head. Clearly, Zoe had a different idea of what was fun than he did.
“Don't look so wary, you'll draw attention,” she added, before she walked up to the bar, leaned over and ordered something.
Alan took a deep breath. He had thought he was in charge. The air smelled of stale beer and sweat. He sat down at a table near the door, giving himself a good view of anyone that walked in or out.
Zoe returned with two bottles of water and handed one to him. The lid was still sealed, no risk of tampering or contamination. He saw Zoe watching him and nodded. She knew what she was doing. He opened the bottle and took a sip.
The door opened and a large group trooped inside and immediately to the bar.
Zoe sat back in her chair and observed them. “Now this is a good way to hunt,” she said. “We should tell Edgar about this technique.”
Alan didn't reply. Somehow, he didn't think Edgar would agree with her. On the other hand, if it worked, it was worth remembering.
Edgar didn't have many wooden stakes any more. The vast majority of his collection were made of metal, mostly lightweight alloys; easy to transport, and lower maintenance than the traditional wood. Also, less likely to break, and easier to use. Over the years, as his old wooden stakes had begun to fall apart, he had replaced them with the more modern equivalents. The few remaining ones were rarely used.
He always took at least one with him on a hunt, some kind of superstitious idea about tradition, but for the most part, it stayed in its holster or even in the truck. When you got blood on a metal stake, you could just wipe it off. Wood stained. Although he thought it gave him a certain kind of credibility to show that his weapons had been well used, there came a point where it started to look lazy.
But metal stakes don't need sharpening. A stake doesn't need to be particularly sharp, there is no need to file it down to a knife. Wood needed less sharpening than he gave it, but the activity was calming, it was something that could be done without thinking, a way to focus himself. In a way, it was almost a form of meditation, and it was that that had eventually led him into the surfboard business.
Once every remaining wooden stake in his arsenal had been sharpened and the worst of the staining filed away, he got to his feet. Some time had passed, but he didn't know how much. Several hours, at least.
He briefly considered trying another board, but his body was too unfamiliar now. The activity that had become second nature to him had suddenly become awkward and strange. What had happened had made him stronger as well as the other more obvious effects, and he literally didn't know his own strength.
No wonder Alan had been having trouble readjusting. Losing that strength must have made him feel suddenly so weak, losing the enhanced senses would feel like going almost deaf and blind.
He got to his feet and stretched, reaching his arms above his head and pushing them to one side and then the other, feeling the burn of stretching muscles. He mustn't get used to it. He mustn't allow the advantages he had over his human self to begin to feel normal. But while he was stuck like this, he needed to know what he could do.
It was more than just curiosity. That was part of it, the desire to understand this strange body that was his and not his at the same time, to test its limitations, to know what he was capable of. But it was more than that. It was important to know. If he ever found himself fighting while in this state, he needed an idea of his strength and stamina. He wouldn't use a weapon without having tested it first, this was the same. Part of him didn't want to know, but he needed to.
He started by running. He was in decent shape, he trained every day, and he knew how far and how fast he could run before his muscles should begin to protest and exhaustion should force him to stop. He set out on his usual course; an elliptical route of about two miles that took him in a large loop around the area surrounding his property. He could jog it easily, but tonight he set out at a sprint.
Arms and legs pumping, he could feel his heart beating hard, but not particularly quickly as keen eyes picked out every potential hazard on the dark path. His breathing quickened, but no more than if he had been taking a quick walk. He increased his speed, forcing his legs to propel him faster and faster. He wished he had a way of measuring his speed, he passed his starting point at the trailer and continued, racing at high speed, but barely feeling it.
For a second time, he passed his trailer. This time, he forced himself to slow to a stop. He drew in a deep breath. He felt good. Not tired, not even the good kind of fatigue that comes after the adrenaline rush of exercise. He felt as though he had warmed up, ready for some training. He wanted to do more.
At the night wore on, the bar became fuller and fuller. Bodies brushed against him as they made their way to and from the bar, the temperature rose to near unbearable levels as more and more people attempted to squeeze their way inside what had seemed like quite a large room when they had arrived.
Alan hated crowds. He always had done. Too many people all together in one place made him uncomfortable, they could be anyone. A small group can be watched carefully, each person scrutinized for any signs that they may not be who they say they are. In a place like this, it was impossible.
The music had grown louder as the bar grew progressively more full, and the dance floor was by now filled with gyrating bodies, people dancing as only those under the influence can. In their own minds, even the most average person was suddenly transformed into a god or goddess of rhythm, imagining that every eye in the place was trained on them, watching appreciatively as they swayed their body in time with the beat of the music, mouth moving along with the words.
All around the place, there were people standing alone or in small groups, watching. There were others approaching what looked like complete strangers, trying out their terrible chat up lines. Half the people in there were looking for someone to leave with. Anyone could be a vampire. Even Alan himself, sitting very still and quiet, having long ago given up on the possibility of conversation could have been mistaken for a predator as his eye moved over the crowd searching for his pray.
Someone touched his hand lightly. It had been resting on the tabletop, and he pulled it away at high speed, jerking his head around to stare at the perpetrator. Zoe smiled apologetically but didn't attempt to say anything over the music. Instead, she nodded to her left, eyes fixed on one of the bar patrons. Alan tried to follow her gaze, but the room was too full to decide who she was indicating, there were dozens of possible vampires there. In any other situation, he would have been able to spot a bloodsucker easily and without any doubt in his mind.
He shook his head, telling her that he didn't see. Zoe got to her feet and made her way to the door, still holding the bag containing her water gun in one hand. He followed her, dodging his way through the crowd and out onto the street.
The rush of fresh air as he exited the bar was one of the most wonderful things he had ever experienced. As the door closed behind him, the music was silenced. The air was cool and smelled of the sea, and he reveled in the sudden solitude. It was, in a strange way, like the feeling of suddenly regaining his humanity, a level of intense discomfort that had been going on so long it had began to feel normal was suddenly stripped away, and the relief of normality was almost overwhelming. It took a moment to recover and remember what it was that they were actually doing. He looked around and spotted Zoe waiting for him a few paces ahead.
He jogged the few steps to catch up and she pointed to a couple walking slowly away down the street. The girl was clearly drunk or high or something. She leaned on the man for support as he walked slowly but purposefully, leading her into the maze of the old town streets. He moved with complete confidence, no sign of intoxication at all. Alan watched him critically, there was something else about the way he moved, a kind of fluidity to his motion. He didn't walk like a human.
Alan's eyes narrowed as he watched them leave, not letting them get away, but allowing a little distance to grow between them. This wasn't a simple stake the vampire, save the victim job. He needed information, and he could get it by tailing his pray, so much the better. As he watched, he slipped his hand underneath the side of his jacket and ran his fingertips over the concealed stakes in his belt holster, checking they were still there. He pulled the UV flashlight from the deep side pocket, and glanced at Zoe. The Supersoaker was already in her hand, the empty bag slung over her shoulder.
“Ready?” he asked.
She nodded, and Alan began to follow. Zoe walked at his side, the water gun in her hand, but held slightly behind her to make it less obvious. Alan tried to match his pace to the vampire's, not letting him get too far ahead, not allowing the gap between them to close. Zoe's expression was set into grim determination.
The streets in this older part of town were maze-like; short, narrow streets full of corners, odd junctions and dead ends, it would be easy to get lost there, and easy to lose someone you were following.
Alan kept as far back as he dared. The vampire would know they were there. If he couldn't hear their footsteps or the beating of their hearts, the smell of their blood would reveal their presence. For now, he might assume they were two people from the bar, walking home in the same direction. But with every step in the same direction, they gave themselves away a little more. Wherever he was leading them, it was unlikely to be where his pack hid from the sun.
When the vampire finally turned a corner into a dead end alley, Alan jogged ahead, no longer worrying about whether they had been noticed, just wanting to save the girl before the vampire could sink his fangs into her throat. He rounded the corner at a sprint with Zoe close behind him. The girl was on the ground.
She was kneeling on the concrete, leaning forward with her hands touching the ground as though she had fallen or been pushed. It was too dark for human eyes to make out any detail, but her throat looked unmarked. She was breathing heavily, as though she had been running.
The vampire was waiting for them. He stood near the girl, facing the entrance to the alley. Alan's stake was already in his hand, he raised it and pointed it at the monster. It smiled, displaying sharp fangs. Suddenly, with no warning, the vampire leaped into the air and propelled himself forward, flying at high speed toward Alan and Zoe. Zoe pointed her water gun and got a shot off, but missed. Alan stood his ground, stake at the ready, his finger touched the switch of his flashlight. Before he could turn it on, the vampire had reached him. He swung his stake, ducking his head to avoid the impact. He missed, but so did the vampire. He felt the swift movement of air as the monster passed him and disappeared into the night.
He switched on the UV flashlight and swung it around, searching for the vampire, but it had disappeared from sight. Of course, that didn't mean it wasn't hiding somewhere, waiting, watching.
“Think he gave up without a fight?” Zoe asked, sounding unconvinced.
Alan shook his head. “I doubt it.”
He swung the flashlight once more in every direction, and then turned to look at Zoe. She was crouching by the girl, who was still kneeling on the ground, trying to help her to her feet. The girl was being less than co-operative.
“Come on, you're safe now,” she said, trying to coax the girl into a more upright position.
Alan resisted the urge to assist, Zoe was probably more suited than him to reassuring a victim after a failed attack. When it came to vampire slaying, he could handle the hunt and he relished the battle, the was the other things that he had trouble with, things like this. Edgar was equally useless, it was a Frog family trait, keeping the touchy-feely to a minimum. When absolutely necessary, they had used to leave it to Sam.
He kept his flashlight switched on, shining it in all directions, covering Zoe in case the vampire returned. The beam of UV light it produced made the rest of the alley appear darker still in contrast. He kept moving, hoping that if the vampire returned for his meal, he would be caught in the beam. He half hoped it would return. This wasn't supposed to be a rescue mission, they were here for information, and that was something that the girl wouldn't have. Behind him, he could still hear Zoe trying to coax her to move.
Suddenly, Zoe let out a shocked gasp. It was followed by a scrabbling noise as she quickly backed away, getting to her feet as she did. Alan spun around immediately, shining his light, his other hand tightening around his stake, expecting to find that the vampire had flown in from behind him. He froze in shock when he instead found the girl, still half sitting on the ground, her eyes glowing softly in the darkness with the beginnings of hunger.
Zoe got to her feet and stood uncertainly, watching her. The girl stared back, squinting against the glow of the light in Alan's hand. Her eyes were confused and afraid, tears were beginning to run down her cheeks. She shook her head. “What's going on?” she asked.
Zoe glanced at Alan briefly, before she took a small step forward. “It's okay,” she said. “We're going to help you. Right, Alan?”
Alan didn't move. He stood frozen in place, staring at the girl in horror. This really wasn't going according to plan.
She looked back at him, still confused and frightened, probably knowing that something terrible had happened to her, but not understanding what. Not yet. Soon, the hunger would grow, and then she would begin to understand.
“He must have turned her in the club,” Zoe guessed. She turned back to the girl. “Did he give you anything to drink? Or maybe he could have put something in a drink you already had?”
The girl clambered to her feet. “Tell me what's going on!” she said. Her voice was louder this time, more assertive, but also more afraid. She looked from Zoe to Alan and back again, still squinting in the artificial sunlight.
Alan turned away. There was nothing he could do. It was too late, the damage was done. “It doesn't matter how he did it,” he said to Zoe. “It's done.”
Soon, the girl would succumb to the bloodlust already growing inside her. She would probably fight it, but eventually she would kill. He couldn't help her. He couldn't even help Edgar, as much as he wanted to. This was just some random girl, one of possibly hundreds in the same position. He couldn't help them all. It wasn't possible. His fingers tightened around the stake in his hand. This kindest thing would be to end it now, while she was still more or less herself, before she became a monster.
As though she had somehow read the thoughts running through his head in the clutch of his hand on the stake, Zoe was staring at him out of the corner of her eye. She focused most of her attention on the new half vampire in front of them, but somehow, she was watching him warily. Or maybe it was his guilty conscience.
He looked at the girl, and at his stake, and he couldn't do it. It wouldn't be right. Once, he wouldn't have hesitated, but that was before he had been on the other side. Now, his grip loosened and the hand holding the stake dropped to his side.
Satisfied, Zoe's full attention returned to the girl – the vampire – in front of them. But if he couldn't kill her, what could he do with her? She couldn't be allowed to go free, she would make a kill quickly and join one side or the other in the war, maybe even going on to turn more innocents. But he couldn't take her anywhere to hide; couldn't foist the responsibility onto Edgar, not with what he was already dealing with, but couldn't take care of her himself as she couldn't be trusted in the presence of a human.
He didn't even know if she would want to fight what she was. She wouldn't understand what a vampire truly was. When she felt the first pangs of hunger, she might choose to feed rather than suffer the constant need. She wouldn't understand what she was giving up. Not like he had; like Edgar did.
The glow in the girl's eyes had gone now, and she looked human; a frightened girl who had just seen some of the horror in the world.
“What's your name?” Zoe asked her.
The half vampire shook her head, looking quickly from Zoe to Alan, and then she folded her arms tightly across her chest and drew herself up to her full height, trying to look authoritative and instead coming across like a little girl demanding something from her parents. “Tell me what's happening,” she said. “Who are you, who was that man, and how did I end up here?”
“We should move out,” Alan said, ignoring her questions, “then work out what we're going to do with Draculina here.”
“What. Is. Happening?” The girl spoke slowly and clearly, loud enough that no one could miss the question. “I'm not going anywhere until you answer me.”
Zoe glanced at Alan. She nervously tucked a nonexistent strand of dark hair behind her ear, and them turned to face her. “The thing is, something's happened to you, and I don't know if you're going to believe us if we tell you, so it'd be better if you just...”
“You're a vampire,” Alan interrupted. It came out more harshly than he intended and somehow seemed to hang in the air, reverberating around the silence that it had created.
Zoe turned to stare at him.
“A half vampire,” Alan corrected. “The guy you were with probably spiked your drink with blood, and if you don't want to turn all the way, you need to listen to us.”
The girl stared at him in shock for a second, but the expression quickly changed into terror. Not at what had happened to her, but of him. She didn't believe him. Of course she didn't believe him. Suddenly, with no warning, she bolted, escaping Zoe's hand on her shoulder and speeding past Alan and away into the pitch dark streets of San Cazador.
“Shit,” he muttered under his breath.
Zoe was staring at him, wide eyed and incredulous. He opened his mouth to say something else, but before he could make a sound she had also begun to run away, following the girl.
“Don't,” he told her. “Vampires are fast; you'll never catch her.”
“I can catch her,” Zoe told him, and disappeared into the night.
Suddenly finding himself alone in a badly lit area of town at night, Alan began to feel very exposed. He waited for several minutes, expecting Zoe to return empty handed. Even a brand new half vampire could outrun an Olympic sprinter if they had reason to, and he had certainly given her reason.
He shook his head, frustrated with himself. Of course the girl was going to run from the crazy guy telling her she was a vampire. And now he had set another vampire loose on the city. But a part of him was relieved that she was no longer his responsibility. There would have been no way to help her short of killing the head vampire, and no way to know whether she and Edgar shared a head vampire or not. They could have killed him, freed Edgar and found that she was still a vampire. Then what?
Things had been so much easier when the world was black and white. Vampires were the enemy, half vampires included. You find one, you kill it.
Things would never be that simple again.
After five minutes, he began to worry. Zoe should have been back by now, unless something had happened to her. Cold dread began to fill his chest and expand outward through his veins and arteries. If something happened to Zoe, Edgar would never forgive him. If Edgar found out now, while he was still a half vampire, there was no way to predict what he would do.
Tucking the UV light under his arm, he fumbled in his pocket for his cellphone as he began to hurry in the direction she had gone. He had only added her number that evening, an afterthought, just in case. He scrolled through the phone book as he ran, paying very little attention to the streets around him. Finally finding her name, he called the number and listened to the ring at the other end of the line.
Somewhere nearby, he heard a tune that sounded vaguely familiar. The theme tune to some show he had watched as a kid. He lowered his phone from his ear and listened carefully, then began to run in the direction of the sound.
The street lighting was better here, and he flicked off the UV light as he ran, phone almost forgotten, still clasped in his fist, following the sound of the ringtone. He rounded a final corner and came to a complete stop, staring in confusion at an untidy pile of clothes pushed up against the wall of a building as though that would make them unnoticeable.
Hesitantly, not sure what to do, he reached out and nudged the pile with his fingertips. Through the fabric, he could feel the phone vibrating. He canceled his call, and the ringing stopped. Next to the clothes was the water gun, and Zoe's boots.
Alan turned around, peering through the yellowy streetlighting into the darkness beyond, looking for any clue as to what had happened. There was none. The street was empty and silent. It was as though Zoe had simply vanished into the air, leaving behind everything that she had worn or carried.
He turned back to the clothes and stared for a moment. If anything had happened to Zoe, she wouldn't have had the time or a reason to do this, which meant that she was probably okay, or at least that when she had done this, she had been okay. It would help if he knew exactly what she was. He should have asked, but she had known he didn't know and she hadn't volunteered the information. It was possible that this was completely normal for her. Likely, even.
He decided to wait where he was for her to return. Whatever she was doing, and wherever she had gone, she would eventually need to come back for her stuff.
Something hit him. It happened so quickly that it wasn't until after it had happened that he registered the sight of something moving quickly toward him and the feeling of wind on his face. It hit him in the chest, hard enough to knock the wind out of him.
Alan staggered backwards until he hit the wall. The UV light in his hand dropped to the ground, hit the concrete and broke open, spilling the batteries onto the ground. He bit back a curse and looked around for whatever had hit him, but he appeared to be completely alone.
He dropped to his hands and knees and began to pick up the stray batteries. As he did, the same thing happened again. This time, the something that hit him felt like a fist, an incredibly strong fist that struck him on his jaw. He was knocked backwards again, this time hitting his head hard against the brick wall. For a moment, the world disappeared, replaced by a flash of white light accompanied a burst of intense pain. He heard laughter.
His head pounded, each beat of his heart bringing a fresh burst of agony. Alan forced open his eyes to see the blurry, watery image of a man standing over him. He struggled to focus his vision. The man took a step forward and grinned. His teeth were sharp fangs. Trying to ignore the pain, Alan struggled and failed to get to his feet. The UV light was still in pieces, so he reached for Zoe's water gun, pumped the handle and squeezed the trigger.
A plume of water shot from the barrel, but the vampire dodged easily. He laughed again and shook his head. “Why were you following us?” he asked.
Alan fired again. Again, the vampire dodged.
“Whatever the reason,” he said, “it was a mistake.” He stared down threateningly at Alan. “I'm just trying to decide, do I kill you, or do I turn you? I suppose a hunter would be a useful addition to the pack in times like this, but on the other hand,” he grinned again, baring his fangs. “I'm hungry.”
Alan fired for a third time, this time moving the gun quickly from side to side, soaking as large an area as he could. The vampire dodged again, but misjudged and the stream of water cut across his chest. He hissed in pain as it soaked through his clothing and touched his skin. Alan pumped the gun again and fired. Pain slowed the vampire's movements and this time he hit him directly. The vampire staggered backwards, eyes searching from left to right as though looking for backup.
Alan ignored the pain in his head and forced himself unsteadily to his feet. His spare hand went to his holster, grabbing a stake. He fired again. The vampire took to the air and fled. He disappeared almost instantly into the night sky. Alan looked down at the gun, it was almost empty. The pain in his head grew worse, and the ground underneath him seemed to tilt. He sank back to the ground deliberately, before he fell, and allowed his eyes to slip closed. He knew he was leaving himself vulnerable, but by now it was out of his hands.
Unconsciousness claimed him, and it felt good to rest.
Part 9
