A rush of disturbed air was the only herald of the approach of the train, gliding silently on mutually repelling magnetic fields. They boarded, Br. Gerrard swiping tickets for both of them through the reader. The car was almost empty; A man who sprawled across two seats, snoring loudly, two lovers wrapped up in each other, and a businesswoman working diligently on a palm- top computer.
"We can talk at any point, but let me give you these things now, the city trains will have more prying eyes." Gerrard said, digging in his big leather shoulder bag. He handed her a string of garlic bulbs, and an object formed from two wooden bars fastened at right angles. "Garlic or a cross will repel vampires, keep them away, but the effect is short ranged- and highly directional. Be careful, because they can and will circle around the ward, and attack again from the side or behind you. But to actually finish off the creature - to slay it outright - requires more direct methods. Fire, beheading, saturation with holy water, direct sunlight; all of these will get the job done . . ."
"Fire? Beheading??" Anne thought, "What in heavens name am I getting mixed up in? This is getting too, too gross." Aloud, "I have to chop off something's *head* ? I had enough problems doing the worm dissections for Bio..."
"Those are the more uncommon alternatives. The simplest, most usual method is the classic 'wooden stake through the heart'. Here, carry at least one with you at all times." Gerrard handed her a stake from his pouch as if it were as mundane as a business card.
Anne looked at it with suspicion - as if it might suddenly turn on her to bite, or she was in the middle of a complex 'Hidden Video' gag. No camera crew or other funny stuff happened. The stake just lay quietly in her hand, a hunk of 25 mm hardwood dowel about 30 cm long, about one-third it's length sharpened into a tapered point. With a small shudder she stuck it into her purse on top of the garlic.
"Does it have to be wood?"
"Yes. Unless used to take off the vampire's head, a metal implement will do no permanent damage. In fact, all it will serve to do is make the creature extremely angry. And also, you have to strike the heart. Random pokes to the general torso will be of no use at all."
"No metal. So I guess that knives and guns and such are out of bounds, right?"
"Absolutely. Although, I suppose that military-style plasma weapons might be effective, I wouldn't know. The authorities go to extreme lengths to keep that sort of thing out of civilian hands."
"One more tiny question. How do I get a blood-crazed *vampire* - can't believe I'm talking seriously about them - to hold still long enough for me to shove a stick into it's heart? I would imagine they tend to wiggle around a lot; to say nothing of fighting back."
"Usually the Slayer has to knock seven bells out of the thing first. Which reminds me, have you picked up any sort of Martial Arts training before now?"
"Just the basic self-defense stuff they show you in gym class. . ."
"That should prove to be extremely useful. . . not. Since I suspected as much, that's why the plan for tonight is to arrive early enough to catch the vampire before it becomes fully mobile. I'll pick up some practice pads tomorrow and we'll start remedying your shortcomings in hand-to-hand combat this weekend."
After arriving at the city terminus of the Mag-Lev line, Br. Gerrard steered them through three tube capsule transfers until they finally reached the industrial suburb that also contained the target cemetery. The shortest path from the tube station brought them to a side gate, secured by a chain and lock.
The gate had been designed long ago to stop the entry of wheeled vehicles. For two people on foot, it was a simple matter to push one half in, and the other side out (to the limits of the chain), forming enough of a gap to sidle through.
"Now all we have to do", said Br. Gerrard, "is find section EF, plot 349. I think it's that way."
"So who is it we're going to be visiting on this fine, cold, night?"
"I have a thermal bottle of hot soup for later, quit whining. Our host is a certain Heneri Ekkevard, a night-shift clerk who, two nights ago, failed to report for work. The police found his body later that night in a trash bin. According to the reports, he had a pair of puncture wounds in his neck, and all of his blood was missing."
"Ewwww. Does everyone they bite turn into another vampire?"
"Not usually. To create a new vampire they first have to suck out the target's blood, then before death intervenes, the intended must drink their blood. This is a very narrow window of opportunity. Also, they're usually very picky about who they convert, since they'll have to put up with them hanging about for all eternity. Usually, they're just gonna kill you."
"How charming. But if making a new vamp is such a rare event, what makes you think they did this guy? Or are we here just hoping on the odd chance..?"
"Normally it is rare. Vampires, like most successful predators, keep their numbers in balance with those of their prey..."
"Us."
"Umm Hum. If that were the case in this area, it would follow that they would take a constant number of human victims to feed their hunger. The death toll would be roughly the same from month to month, one year to the next. But the reports I've been studying tell a different story. The number of killings are increasing - and at an increasing rate."
"Meaning?"
"Meaning that the local vampire population is growing, that they are actively recruiting. The increased rate of increase says that the new vampires are not just feeding, but are also siring more of their kind as well."
"Which is why you're so sure this guy's been made over."
"Yes. The night of his death is right for the timeline I've managed to rough out. It's crude, the data is very imprecise, but I feel there's an 80-90% chance he's been 'changed'.
What I'm not so sure of, is why. The vampires are obviously gathering strength for some purpose or other, exactly what that is, I just can't fathom yet. Whatever it is they intend, I doubt it bodes well for humanity.
I wasn't sure until I ran that study, but I suspected there was a reason you were *here* and a reason why it's now."
"Now is when our Immigration paperwork went through- actually last fall -and here is because in a low-tech backwater like this place, my Mom's survivor benefits go a lot farther than in one of the bright shiny centers of the universe."
"This sort of convergence is not chance, not due to coincidence. We're seeing destiny being played out here..."
"Not fate, just finances. I ought to know - I was there.. And Mom even let me help with the final decision..."
"My point exactly. We see the Slayer moving herself to where she is most needed..."
"That sounds very much like what my logic course called 'circular reasoning'"
"Anyway. Here we are - the 340's should be that row."
A few moments search by the light of Br. Gerrard's pocket flashlight lead them to Heneri Ekkevard's marker.
"It seems poor people have to make do with these generic sheetmetal placecards, instead of a more substantial monument. At least we're not too late - the earth and sod are undisturbed. Let's set up in the next row and then wait for him to rise. If the time of death in the coroner's report was accurate, we have less than half an hour. Or more, of course, if they got the time wrong."
"How much more?"
"Unknowable. Depends on how far off the report was from the actual time. Anywhere from a few minutes to three-four hours."
"Ugh. I'm going to sit down until, and unless, something starts to happen."
The predicted time came and passed without event.
"So much for the accuracy of the time of death.", Br. Gerrard sighed.
"So much for the whole theory, you mean. We're gonna sit here 'till we're as stiff as he is, and still nada. What kind of soup did you say you had?"
Two more hours crawled slowly away, as measured by Br. Gerrard's old watch and the even older clock of the circling stars. They were sipping their second servings of the soup when he broke the silence, speaking unusually softly.
"Ms. Winters?"
"Yeah?"
"I'm afraid I've made a rather serious mistake."
|
|
|
|
Rave
Barbie Girl (Becca)
biscuit07
Filmtheory (Jim)
Malice (Jess)
MebbtheScribe (MichaelB)
Reset (Allie)
Shay (Marrisa)
somnambulist29 (Shea)
Stephanie Loss
Wendyness (Wendy)
Questions?Contact Us
|
|
All stories on this site have been archived with the authors' consent. Do not copy these stories for your own uses without the express consent of the author themselves. Buffy the Vampire Slayer TM and Angel TM are © UPN, WB, Fox and its related entities. All photos on the site are © UPN, Fox, Warner Bros, and/or their respective owners. No profits are being made by use of these images.
Powered with the assitance of eFiction.
|
|
|
