Vampire Dancing (28 page)

“There are many of us,” Verestanias replies.

“What is it that you want? To torment me? To slowly kill me?”

“No,” Verestanias says. “I need you alive.”

“And why would that be?”

Verestanias falls silent, and it's at that moment the relevance of what Stiles had said becomes clear to Michael. “It's not me they're after, is it? It's you they want. You attached yourself to me and now they want you back.”

“Yes,” Verestanias replies.

“What's to stop me turning myself over to them? To get rid of you?”

Verestanias takes a moment to carefully consider its answer. “Nothing, except ... you would be giving them the very thing they're so eager to acquire.”

“And that would be wrong, why?” Michael asks.

“In their hands, I am an extremely powerful tool,” Verestanias says.

“And who are
they
, exactly?”

“Those in possession of great power and wealth.”

“You've still not given me a good reason as to why I shouldn't just turn myself over to them.”

Once again, Verestanias takes time to contemplate its response. “As long as I am bound to you, their agenda is far less likely to succeed.”

“Their agenda?”

“Their desire for a global community in complete subjection to the gods which have fulfilled their every unholy perversion.”

“I don't believe a word of this garbage,” Michael says. “It sounds like a bad conspiracy theory.”

“Then turn me over to them and watch the consequences of your actions unfold.”

Michael ponders whether or not Verestanias is bluffing. “Why me over them? Wouldn't you get a sick kick out of a satanic planet?”

“Perhaps,” Verestanias replies, “but not at the cost of eternal enslavement. Once they have me they will never let me go. I am far too valuable. Whereas, bound to you, I am free to make my own choices. You
were
my choice, after all.”

“Why can't they just get another demon, or whatever the hell you are?”

“Because none are as capable as I at perpetrating and reshaping chaos.”

“I've never heard of you,” Michael says.

“That is not by accident,” Verestanias replies.

Michael's patience finally runs out. “Why am I even listening to this crap - you were trying to kill me before.”

Verestanias offers a twisted smile. “
Was I
?”

A sudden wave of pressure builds in Michael's head. He raises his hands to his temples and backs away from Verestanias.

You have no idea how important it is for your world that you continue living, Levagnion, and that I remain bound to you
.

“Get out of my head!” Michael shouts.

Finally, we can be free to work together. Can you still feel the rush from the life we took moments ago? It's what makes us strong.

Michael curls his fists into white knuckle balls and glowers at Verestanias. “He was innocent! He had a fucking kid waiting for him at home!”

There is no such thing as innocence. He was just another rung on the ladder towards hell on Earth. He had to be stopped
.

“You utter fuck!” Michael shouts.

We are so much stronger together, Levagnion. All you have to do is open to me completely. Let me in
.

Michael shrugs off the pain in his head and storms towards Verestanias. He doesn't care that the vessel before him looks like a grown up version of unfortunate, innocent Amanda.

He's going to break every bone in its fucking skull.

*

Still in considerable discomfort from her wounds, Amber holds onto a handrail and pulls herself up from the seat. “I can't wait here any longer. I hear raised voices. I have to see what's happening with Michael in there.”

Clutching her stomach, Laura gets up and positions herself between Amber and the door to the next car.

“Are you going to let me past?” Amber asks, “Or do we need to hurt each other some more?”

Before Laura has the chance to decide either way, the door at the far end of the aisle opens and in walks Wendy.

“Wendy?” Amber says, “I thought you went-”

Four helmeted men clad in black uniforms and full body armor follow Wendy into the car. The one closest to the girl has a rifle pointed at her back.

Wendy is clearly upset.

“They killed Barbara,” she sobs.

“What?” Amber starts towards Wendy.

The man in charge of the four man unit points his firearm at Amber. “Stay where you are.”

“She kept walking when they told her to stop,” Wendy goes on, “so they shot her. It wasn't her fault.
She had no idea what was going on
.”

The man behind Wendy grabs her by the arm. “Keep talking if you want to see Heaven.”

Amber's temper surges. “Leave her alone. She's just a girl - and she's pregnant.”

Laura places a hand on Amber's shoulder and steps forward. She addresses the man in charge: “You're here for Michael Rhodes, right? I'm your contact. He's in the next car - and lower your weapons. No one here is going to harm you.” She shoots Amber a look.

“How do I know you're our contact?” the man says.

Laura approaches him. “They don't tell you anything, do they?” She looks at the other men. “What's wrong, have none of you saw a woman before?”

Slightly embarrassed, the men shift their focus. One looks at his feet, another looks to the side, while the third man appears to be a serial offender and switches his attention to Amber.

Laura flicks her hair over her shoulder. The cuts and scratches inflicted by Amber have long healed.

“You're a very large man,” she says to the unit leader. “What's your name?” She reaches into the rear pocket of her tight-fitting jeans. All eyes are upon her again.

“Matthews.”

“Okay, Matthews, I'm Laura Novak.” She holds up a badge with her picture on the front. “I haven't had the pleasure of being injected with the company microchip just yet, but you're more than welcome to scan my badge with that cute little reader thing you have built into your eyepiece. It'll tell you everything you want to know - even my bust size, I believe.”

Matthews, looking a little flustered, replies: “Uh, no, that'll be okay, ma'am.”

“Please, don't call me that. It makes me sound like an old woman.” Laura looks round at Amber and cracks a smile.

“You say he's in the next car?” Matthews asks.

“Yes,” Laura replies. “He's all yours.”

“Wait a moment," Amber protests. “You can't just-”

“I suggest you let them pass,” Laura says. “Unless you want shot full of holes.
Again
.”

Amber struggles to contain herself. “You're a bitch, d'you know that?”

“I am aware of this, yes,” Laura replies. She looks to Wendy - “You'll stay with us” - then switches her attention to a rather fresh-faced young man. "And I want you ... what's your name?"

“Johnson.”

“Okay, Johnson, I'll need you to remain here to protect me from ... whatever.”

Johnson looks to Matthews. Matthews nods.

“It's settled then,” Laura says. “I believe Michael's already at the mercy of one of your men. Either that or he enjoys talking to himself.”

Matthews and the other two men start moving.

Amber, understandably, looks agitated.

Matthews stops in front of her. “Don't even think about warning him. Not unless you want that girl over there to get a bullet in the head.”

“I hope he kills you,” Amber says.

Matthews brushes off the remark and continues on his way.

Laura turns to Johnson. “So, what's your first name, handsome?” Before Johnson has a chance to answer, she grabs his trachea and squeezes it tightly.

Wendy gasps and covers her mouth.

“Ssh,” Laura says.

Johnson tries to call out to the departing unit. He lifts his rifle. Laura snatches it from his trembling hands and gives it to Wendy, who, upon taking it, looks at it like it's some sort of alien artifact.

Johnson struggles to pry Laura's fingers from his throat. His eyes are bulging grotesquely.

Laura watches the last man exit the car. Once he's gone, she turns back to Johnson – "Time to find out if there's an afterlife” - then crushes his throat completely.

Johnson makes a croaking sound then drops.

Laura turns to Wendy, who seems to be caught somewhere between awe and horror, and tells her: “I'm already so bored with these people.”

Amber looks at the dead man. “You killed him.”

“You're surely not complaining,” Laura replies.

“You people are crazy,” Wendy says. She looks at Laura. “And what
you
did to Stan...”

Laura looks to Amber. “Stan?”

“The guy she was with when you met her,” Amber replies.

“Oh, him.” Laura takes the rifle from Wendy. “Maybe I'd better have this.”

“Wendy, he wasn't a good person,” Amber explains. “You were in danger. That's why I was coming after you.”

“But he never did anything wrong,” Wendy protests.

“He never got the chance,” Amber replies.

Wendy folds her arms. “How can you know that?”

“You just have to trust me. He was almost certainly going to harm you.”

Laura kneels over the body of Johnson. “I suggest you look away, Wendy.”

“Why?”

“You know what,” Laura says, “I don't care what you do.”

Wendy sighs and covers her eyes.

Amber watches Laura pull the uniform away from Johnson's neck. “What are you doing?”

“You're in no fit state to help Michael,” Laura replies. She uses her thumbnail to make an incision on the dead man's neck. “His heart isn't pumping, so you're going to have to work a little harder than usual.” She looks at Amber. “Now drink.”

*

Matthews is the first to enter the car. He sees Michael at the far end of the aisle, down on one knee and facing them with his head bowed. In front of Michael is the body of a woman in a pink top. She looks dead. Behind Michael, and looking every bit as dead as the woman, is the body of Alan Stiles. “Michael Rhodes, put your hands on your head and stand up slowly.”

Michael doesn't respond.

The other two men position themselves on either side of Matthews and train their weapons on Michael.

Matthews starts to move cautiously along the aisle. His men dutifully follow. “I said put your hands on your head and stand up.”

Michael lifts his head then erects himself. His hair is messy and partially obscuring his left eye. His shirt is wide open, exposing his chest.

Matthews stops abruptly. He sees something he doesn't like. It's Michael's left eye: despite being only partially visible, he can see it's completely yellow with a strange, elongated pupil. He curses under his breath and taps a button on the side of his headset. “Put a tranq in him, Powell.
Now
.”

Standing to the left of Matthews, Powell fumbles for the tranquilizer gun strapped to his side.

Michael's reptilian looking eye blinks.

Powell frees the tranquilizer gun and points it at Michael. His hand is shaking.

“It's me,” Matthews says into his headset. “I think we have a problem. Send all reserve units.”

Powell looks anxiously at the tranquilizer gun in his hand. “I think it's jammed.”

Looking directly at Michael, Matthews says into his headset: “Yes,
everyone
.”

The other man now pulls out his tranquilizer gun. He aims at Michael and fires. He appears to miss. He fires again, and the result is the same. Rather than questioning his aim, he looks at the gun.

Matthews is losing his patience with whoever is on the other end of the line. “How hard can this be? Send everyone we have - send the fucking World!” He taps a button on his headset, severing communication, then points his rifle at Michael. “Don't you move a muscle.”

Michael remains still.

“What the hell's wrong with him?” Powell says.

“I have no god damn idea, but it doesn't look good.” Matthews turns to the man on his right. “Scott, go get Johnson - and the
woman, Novak. We need everyone we can get in here until the rest arrive.”

Scott nods and moves quickly back along the aisle.

“What do we do in the meantime?” Powell asks.

Matthews reaffirms his grip on his rifle. “Pray he doesn't move.”

*

Having just finished with Johnson, Laura asks Amber: “Do I have blood around my mouth? Is my lipstick smudged?”

Amber looks closely. “No, I think you're alright.”