Dead Men (and Women) Walking (20 page)

Holly went to open the door,
and found it to be unlocked. She sat on the driver’s side, and
noticed that the glove compartment was open. Her newly aged hands
reached inside, and she began to fumble around. Before she could
come across anything, she was startled by a loud honking
noise.

With horror, Holly whipped
her head around, only to see a large truck with a plow attached to
the front.

“
Hey there ma’am, do you
need any help?”

“
Yes, this car, it’s
stuck,” said Holly, scared.

“
If you want I could give
you a lift into the town and get a tow-truck back out here for
you.”

Holly was uncertain. She was
afraid to get in the car with the strange man.

“
Well yes or
no?”

“
Yes. . .yes I’ll
come.”

“
You look like you’ve been
through hell,” said the plow driver. “Have you been here all
night?”

“
I’ve been here too
long.”

“
Well hop in, I’ll get you
a coffee and some breakfast at the diner in town. Older woman like
you shouldn’t be out in the elements like this all night. Catch
that pneumonia.”

This hospitality, it warmed
Holly. She had forgotten all about such emotions. She had forgotten
what it felt like to be warmed on the inside.

“
I’ll be right there
sir.”

“
Okay, but quickly, I have
the rest of this road here to finish. Dangerous road this one is,
even in good weather. Factor in the biggest storm in state history
and you have a hum-dinger of a safety hazard. Ain’t no wonder you
swerved off.”

Holly had seen something
that had caught her eye in the glove-box of the Jeep before the
plow driver had gotten her attention. It was a dog-eared photograph
that was on the very edge of the compartment. It was a photo of
Walt, smiling in front of a Christmas tree, except he was much
younger, probably the same age Holly had been when she had first
gone to Samson.

Walt was standing next to an
older, heavyset man with a beaming smile on his face that more than
compensated for Walt’s self-conscious, teenage grin. Holly flipped
over the picture. Written on the back, in blue ink, was: Dad And
Walt – Christmas ’94

Underneath it, in the same
handwriting, although much smaller, was written: Last Christmas
together.

Holly stood and wiped the
tear from her eye. She put the photo into the pocket of her jeans,
and vowed to bring it wherever she went from here on out, as Walt
before her once had. It would represent her lasting memory of the
kindred spirit who delivered her from evil.

By Aurelio Rico Lopez
III

The crowd cheered as the DJ
spun a new track. The beat pulsed, and scores of red and green
lights erupted from the ceiling onto the hundreds of people below.
The dance floor was a sea of men and women dancing and swaying to
the music.

Carnan sat at the bar and
toyed with his drink absent-mindedly, turning the glass on the
counter, between his thumb and index finger.

“
Hey, buddy! You gonna
drink that?”

Carnan hadn’t taken a single
sip from his drink, and the bartender was eyeing him suspiciously.
Carnan reached in his breast pocket, pulled out a hundred dollar
bill, and tossed it in the man’s direction. “Get lost.”

The man took one look at the
money and snatched it off the bar top. He walked away, muttering
something under his breath.

Pity. Carnan had half-hoped
the guy would have lost his temper and tried to beat him
senseless.

He returned his attention to
his untouched drink. He wanted to try the amber fluid, but he knew
it would only taste vile and disgusting. Carnan had often wondered
what brandy really tasted like. It was one of those trivial things
he wished he knew.

A familiar sensation came
over him like an unpleasant, early morning chill. A hand tapped him
on the back.

“
Mingling with the food
again, Carnan?”

He turned around on his
stool. The source of the voice was tall, with a fair, almost pale
complexion and shiny hair combed backward.

“
Hello, Isaac,” said
Carnan. “Has anyone ever told you that the Bela Lugosi look is out
of fashion? Seriously, it’s so last century.”

Isaac gave a humorless grin,
but couldn’t hide the contempt in his eyes. “Your father has
summoned you.”

“
My father can get a tan
for all I care.”

Isaac grabbed Carnan by his
shirt and pulled him to his feet.

“
Easy, easy! It’s a silk
shirt.”

Isaac snarled. “You will
speak of your father with respect!”

Carnan did not flinch. He
looked Isaac straight in the eye, and his voice took on a dark,
serious tone. “Careful, Isaac. You may be loyal to my father, but
unlike him, I have absolutely no qualms about killing
you.”

Isaac let go as if he had
burnt his hands on Carnan’s shirt. He stepped back, stunned by what
he had just heard, shocked that Carnan had said it, afraid because
Carnan had meant every word. He looked as if he couldn’t decide
whether to flee or beg for his life. Instead, Carnan put his arm
around his shoulder like an old high school buddy.

“
I’m bored,” Carnan said,
as if nothing had happened. “Come on. Let’s go see what’s on the
old man’s mind.”

#

In contrast to the club, the
inside of the limousine was a vacuum. The silence bore down on him
like a dead weight. Carnan looked out at a thousand neon lights,
signs, and billboards. The sun was supposed to be a sign of
awakening, but it was at night when the world truly came
alive.

His father’s estate was a
forty-minute drive away.

“
Where have you been? The
heads of the families left hours ago! They expected to meet my son,
my successor, and their future leader. Do you have any idea how
foolish you made me look?”

Carnan sighed as he
collapsed on one of the chairs in the den. “I have no interest in
leading the families.”

In one quick motion, his
father grabbed his shirt and slammed his back against a
bookshelf.

“
Great! Now look at what
you’ve done. You tore my shirt. What does everyone have against my
shirt?”

“
Now see here!” his father
roared. “Tomorrow evening, you shall take your place as head of the
council. There are many who would like nothing more than to find
one, single excuse to deny you of your birthright, so you better
get your act together.”

“
The same way you got your
act together, Father? Before you became top dog?”

His father’s grip loosened.
“Why do you hate me so much?”

Carnan’s fingernails raked
the side of his father’s face, tearing off chunks of tissue. His
father staggered backward. “How dare you ask me that question!”
Tears began to blur his vision. He turned to leave the
room.

“
Carnan, wait!” his father
called out to him. His face was already mending. Blood platelets
were already aggregating, and cells were dividing at incredible
rates. In a matter of minutes, there wouldn’t be even a hint of the
damage that had been inflicted on him.

Carnan paused at the
doorway.

“
If you don’t do this,” his
father said, “I… we… will lose everything.”

Carnan left the room,
closing the door behind him.

#

The following evening,
inside his room, Carnan donned his best suit. He wore the diamond
cufflinks his mother had given him as a gift over two centuries
ago. He wondered how she would have reacted to the recent turn of
events. He steadied himself against a torrent of memories and
emotions.

He could not lose control.
Not tonight.

His jaw still hurt. It was
odd; his kind could recover from almost any form of injury, but
they could still feel pain even after they had healed. No one could
understand it.

Another wonder was their
inability to cast reflections. There were a lot of theories and
speculations, but Carnan chose to believe that God – or whomever it
was who created their species – had realized that he had made
abominations so unworthy of creation that he robbed them of their
reflections.

A knock on the door signaled
that it was time.

Carnan picked up the objects
he had set on his dresser – a small cloth pouch the size of a
matchbox and a black leather box roughly the size of a pencil case.
He slid both items into his suit pocket.

The knocking came again, a
little louder this time. Carnan opened the door. Two of his
father’s errand boys awaited him in the hallway. They bowed
slightly when they saw him.

“
Sir, your father requests
your presence,” the dark-haired one spoke.

“
Really? And here I thought
you two dropped by to borrow a cup of brown sugar.”

The two escorts looked at
each other with blank expressions. Carnan sighed and stepped into
the hallway. “Lead the way, Tucan Sam.”

The three of them headed to
the function room. The carpeted floor cushioned their footsteps.
They were only halfway there when Dark Hair spoke again.

“
Tonight is a great night,
Sir. Marcus and I were just discussing it.”

“
Yes, Sir,” said his
companion who Carnan assumed was Marcus. “It will be an honor to
serve under you.”

Amazing. Carnan had not even
assumed his position, and already these two were kissing his
ass.

“
Swell,” he
replied.

They arrived at the door at
the end of the hallway. Dark Hair opened it and held it ajar to let
Carnan through. Then he and Marcus closed the door and stood watch
outside the room so that nothing would interrupt the
meeting.

Inside, the large room was
cool and dark. In the center, dimly lit, was a long table. Carnan
recognized those who sat around it as the heads of the twelve
families. They all stared at him, looking him up and down. They’re
sizing me up, Carnan thought. Most of them were at least three
times as old as he was. He could detect resentment in their cold
gazes. Why should they take orders from someone so young? The
silence was broken by his father’s voice.

“
Welcome, Carnan. We are
glad you could join us.” He sat on the far end of the table and
gestured to the opposite end. “Please, take a seat.”

Carnan slowly approached the
unoccupied chair. Carefully, he pulled it out and sat down. In
front of him, on the table, lay the Book of Blood and a golden
chalice from which he was supposed to drink. The cup contained
blood from the heads of the vampire families. As the incoming
leader of all twelve families, Carnan would drink the contents of
the chalice during tonight’s ceremony, symbolizing the
reunification of the vampire race.

Carnan’s father’s voice
carried to the far corners of the room. “Carnan, it has been the
decision of this council that you shall succeed me as leader and
protector of our glorious race. Do you accept the council’s
decision?”

Carnan stood up.

“
I do.”

“
Do you swear to look after
the welfare of our glorious race?”

“
I do.”

“
Are you fully aware of the
duties and responsibilities you will assume as caretaker and
defender of our glorious race?”

“
I am.” His father smiled.
Carnan grit his teeth. A throbbing headache started to build up,
and he tried to relax.

“
Very well,” his father
continued. “Then let the ceremony commence…”

“
Before we begin,” Carnan
quickly interrupted, “may I address the council?”

Those in attendance glanced
and whispered at each other. Carnan’s father raised a hand, and
order was restored.

“
Speak.”

Carnan reached in his pocket
and retrieved the two items he had brought with him. He arranged
them beside the chalice and the Book of Blood. He cleared his
throat.

“
First of all, I would like
to thank all of you for being here tonight. You have traveled from
afar, and I know that the trip was an inconvenience that you, under
normal circumstances, would not have chosen to undergo.

“
I would also like to give
recognition to my father who has led our race for two centuries.
He, too, succeeded his father before him.”

Carnan’s father shifted
uneasily in his chair.

“
My father had always
dreamt of becoming our race’s protector and guardian. But when his
time finally came to succeed my grandfather, there were questions
concerning his dedication.”

Worry cast on his father’s
face, and he raised a hand to silence his son. Carnan ignored the
sign and continued. The council had begun to grow restless; they
could sense something was wrong. There was no turning back
now.

“
Afraid that his dream of
being leader was slipping away, my great father gave the council
something…”