Chapter 12: A Poor Departure

  “What have you done to my truck?!” Caleb exclaimed as he stood next to the machine, hands atop his head, eyes wide and jaw to the floor.

  “Well, excuse me for being shoved into the side of it!” I shouted back, arms folded across my chest and a frown on my face.

  We stood in a parking garage somewhere over half a city away from the raided club. It was dark, barely illuminated and half-filled with cars of all sizes. Caleb had pointed it out to me as we escaped the club. I put us on the second floor, taking up three parking stalls, because I wasn’t sure how to maneuver the damned pickup into a singular stall without hitting something.

  Lyra sat in the front passenger seat with an empty can of blood in her hands. She had the look of a fledgling having just awakened only a half hour ago. Five more cans rolled around the floor in front of her.

  Country music drifted from the speakers with a beat I wanted to follow along to, but didn’t know the words beyond it was a man traveling on a train to nowhere and talking to a gambler in the night. My hand tapped with the best against my hip.

  Caleb traced a finger along a gouge the length of the pickup bed to a small dent I put in the night before.

  “And this?” He pointed at the original dent from yesterday. “Where did this come from?!”

  “I may have hit a wagon leaving the parking stall when you were consumed by your hunger.” I shrugged. Everything was on the passenger side, meaning he hadn't had a chance to see it. Wasn't any point in hiding it either, because it was clear as day. “My driving skill is now level eleven! I have become better, but not by much.”

  He rubbed his forehead, slowly shaking his head from side to side. “This is why they have driving school… and what about her!?” He turned around, pointing a finger at Lyra. “Why is she a vampire now?”

  She leaned out the open door and glanced back at him like she was in trouble, throwing her hands up in confusion. Lyra still didn't speak a word. The elf wrote everything in her notebook, leading me to believe she was mute. I was surprised at how quick Lyra took to drinking the cans. With no mortals around, my wrist and the dwindling case of blood was our only option to sate her frenzy when she awoke.

  I shrugged. “It was that or leave her dead. Jean killed her specifically and planned to stake me again.”

  “But… but she needs to apply to the System for vampirification! There's proper procedures for that. Documents to sign…” He ran his hands through his hair and tugged at his scalp. Caleb paced back and forth along the length of his pickup’s cargo bed. His unbeating heart beat once, twice and I wondered if he knew he was focusing on it as his skin became slightly full of color again. The man’s chest rose and fell in rapid succession. “Fuck, fuck, fuck! What are we going to do?! We broke so many laws tonight. And yesterday, and the goddamned day before!”

  Lyra glanced over at me as she twirled a finger around her ear, pointing another at Caleb.

  I shook my head at her message. The human wasn't acting insane. More closer to a person in a situation he didn't know how to handle.

  She then maneuvered her hands in a strange manner I assumed was a form of language, because she was gesturing between all of us and making specific shapes.

  I motioned to myself, and then to the ThinGen. “Caleb, please. I understand this is going to sound very strange coming from me, but do not take the Lord’s name in vain. It never ends well for those that do, especially the damned like us.” My hand instinctively went to my belt where my rosary was always hung, but it wasn't there! I felt around my body and pockets, eyes wide as I looked on the ground for the item.

  “There are no gods left, only Life, Death, and Time,” he said, interrupting my search. Caleb began giggling.

  “That's impossible. Our creator, God, does not simply die.” He only curses you for taking the path of darkness like I did. And will probably smite me if I can't find the rosary. Mother Moon did a good job protecting me, but I still needed the rosary, because it was actually blessed by a high priestess of Her church shortly after I was embraced. If it wasn't on me it had to be in Caleb’s wagon unless…

  My eyes widened. It can't be back in Lyra's room, can it?!

  Lyra threw her hands in the air and rolled her eyes. She quickly wrote something in her notebook and showed it to me. ‘I was saying he looks like he’s having a panic attack! Calm him down.’

  Panic attack?

  I blinked at the vampire elf’s words and was about to ask what she meant when Cale laughed. He tried to ask a question, but he didn’t get much more than saying something about religion and laughing again.

  His pickup was damaged, he just had to do something he never contemplated doing before meeting me and now he just encountered the first person he met as a mortal and was later turned into a vampire.

  He hugged himself, giggling and hiccuping in almost the same breath.

  I stepped toward Caleb as I reached to place a hand on his shoulder.

  He tore away, hissing, “This is your fault! You… you killed Lyra! You damaged my truck!” Caleb let out a loud groan as he punched his own wagon hard enough he dented it slightly. I was impressed to say the least, because I doubted the man had the strength within him to do that.

  Lyra facepalmed loud enough her slap echoed over the gambler in the song describing how to play cards and knowing when to fold them.

  In a way, both of them were right. Jean killed Lyra, but had I left her there inside the saloon, she likely would have been arrested and taken from the club anyway. Which, if so then he might have still killed her.

  Why did he kill her?

  It couldn’t be to just give me a fledgling like he claimed. That seemed preposterous to think, because the man hated me. Why would he give me a boon like that? There was no logical explanation aside from he wanted me executed for siring her, but if they came after me for it then I was going to drag Jean down with me. It was a perplexing conundrum, because he had to know that I wouldn't go quietly.

  I don't know if Caleb understood what I meant when I said I was forced to turn her. It was the only way to save Lyra and so far she was taking to it well. She cracked open her next can, staying in the passenger seat with the blanket wrapped around her legs like a skirt, and my camouflage jacket covering her torso.

  As for Caleb’s pickup? Well, I had no excuses. I was a fledgling when it came to driving automobiles, but if I didn’t take the reins then we would have been found for sure. The marshals would have arrested the three of us! No telling what they would do to vampires caught in an illegal blood trade.

  “I’ll fix your pickup!” I snapped as I backed away and let my hands fall to my sides. “Please, stay with me. This is just a minor setback.”

  “I’ll take you home tonight, but I won’t be back until next Friday.” He shook his head from side to side. “There’s blood all over my back seat and my truck looks like it was t-boned…” He groaned again, leaning on the pickup’s bed, a deep frown on his face. His bloody tear stained eyes glared hard at me like I’d just killed his dog. “I’m still making payments on it,” Caleb muttered. “And I have to go back to work tomorrow. How am I going to explain this to Jezebel?!”

  I didn’t have anything to say to the man. I could buy him a new pickup to make it up, but I didn’t know how much they cost. Nor where to get one. Another thing for tomorrow, but the only thing to do was get home before dawn and hope the police don't drag me into the sun, which wouldn't be so bad if I now didn't have two fledglings and a ghost to look over.

  Perhaps if the sun took me then I could finally visit Mother Moon. It was a question I always wondered; where do vampires go when they die? I know the ones I drank went into my gullet, but beyond that? I do not know.

  *** ***

  The next day, Lyra found herself some of my old clothes that vaguely fit and made a nice dress out of the remains, but I didn't find anything that wasn't moth eaten.

  Amelia had been overjoyed to see me again and swooped in for a bear hug. I twirled the ghostly woman around as best I could and tried to hug her without going through her glowing form. Which must have looked insane to everyone else, because no one but me saw her.

  However, she spotted Lyra and recognized a fledgling instantly. It wasn't hard, because her skin was so pale she looked like a ghost. And she had a bite mark on her neck I forgot to clean up before turning her. She will forever live with that thanks to my mistake, but it was embrace her as soon as possible or let the body cool too far and lose her.

  I looked through the many boxes in the basement as I waited for Dinner to show up. I was digging for the rosary I carried since before I was given unlife. It always made vampires laugh when they saw it, but I didn't care. It was a momento to my old life that kept me grounded… for the most part.

  “Amelia?!” I called out as I pulled cloth after cloth out from one box. “Have you seen my rosary beads?”

  She popped her ethereal head from a nearby box and looked around for a moment. “It's not on your belt?”

  “No.” I shook my head and shoved the tattered clothing inside the box again. “I swear I had them when I awoke the other day.”

  It was a thing so constant on my person that it became a part of my wardrobe and slipped my mind until Caleb mentioned God.

  As I opened the next crate, my phone dinged with a message from Dinner. It was short and to the point: Here.

  I had given them my address before I went to bed and fully expected them to be at my house later in the night. I told them I was a late riser and to come closer to an hour after sunset, not thirty minutes after sunset.

  With the search for my wayward accessory set aside, I headed upstairs with Amelia floating close behind. She reached for my hand with her cold touch. I held hers. It was still quite strange for me to think of her as both being alive and looking like a ghost. I hadn't had time to process her death-but-not-death, and it was there lingering in my mind. Something made her scream while I had seen those images during my torpor. Perhaps it was her death, but again.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  All I had to do was look at my quest tracker to see that I still needed to find a way to release her soul and let her rest.

  Lyra was already pacing around upstairs in an effort to get comfortable in the clothes, but even I could see they were a poor fit for her taller and slender form.

  We all left the house to meet Dinner outside. The half-elf was better dressed than I remembered. They still wore loose fit trousers, but their tiny shirt was replaced with a hooded long sleeve shirt that clung loosely to their body and looked a size too big. It did well to hide their chest, however, and allow them to vaguely resemble a feminine man.

  Dinner’s wagon was… odd. It was smaller than Caleb’s pickup and that retainer’s car. The vehicle only had a single set of doors with an upside down bowl shape to the bodywork.

  They called it a Veren Type 1 when they got out and waved with a cane in their hand. An early 168 model to be exact with an engine built by Dinner themself. One thing that stood out to me was how poor of a condition the vehicle looked. Its paint had no less than three colors with the bonnet having one all on its own, complete with rust.

  Nothing on the inside matched with what I came to understand as ‘normal’. If Caleb’s pickup and van were anything to go by. Dinner’s car had manual windows, door locks, even steering and brakes. No fancy screen for me to break, but quite a number of gauges; Oil pressure and temperature, cylinder head temperature, fuel, a clock, a small speedometer with a tachometer taking the place of the original speedometer.

  At least according to Dinner. It was all a bit much for me to take in at once.

  They took Lyra, Amelia, and I on a tour of the vehicle’s front where a set of pathetically slim tires sat on mismatching colored wheels. The rear tires were wide on shiny rims that looked brand new. Dinner mentioned they had originally built the thing to off-road specifications, but then broke their back during the build and so it was set up as a twisty road car instead.

  I nodded along to them explaining the proper terminology on cars. Thankfully, the lanky half-elf was quite patient and repeated the names so I could understand them. Midway through the conversation, Dinner had us climb into the car and took us for a ride into the city. The vehicle had an unusual flutter to the LCM engine’s throaty rumble as it accelerated onto the highway.

  I couldn't find a good spot to interrupt Dinner as they went on a tangent about every minor detail and Lyra didn't have a voice to do so, so the half-elf went on in a highly passionate manner about how they did this or that to the car with their father out in the desert wasteland where they grew up.

  *** ***

  Dinner found a vampire museum. Some man in the past, likely a vampire, decided it was a good idea to make a museum dedicated to vampires! A museum built from an old manor no less!

  I helped Lyra out of the small car by taking her hand and guiding her out. She stretched her legs one at a time before turning to me and bowing. Lyra's attire made my heart ache for the cloth she ruined by cutting it into a knee length skirt and a snug fitting blouse.

  Modern clothes were odd, because they had less layers to deal with now. I noticed it when I had helped Lyra out of her beautiful black dress. She only wore just the dress, a slip, stockings on a garter belt, and her undergarments. No corset or petticoat or underskirt. Just the bare minimum.

  Leaving me feeling awkward as I stood there in trousers, stockings, a corset, shirt, and blouse. With my camouflage jacket and new rubber soled boots thrown overtop. As much as I liked the pretty multi-colored jacket, it did not do well for my body shape. Even after Amelia helped me with my usual padding to fill out my hips. The cut of the jacket was just too square.

  The night was crisp like with an odd air to it I couldn't fully place. Cars slowly rolled by in small groups on the side street. A few people walked along the sidewalks, but nowhere near the amount I was used to. Most looked in a hurry as they walked with the flow of traffic toward their destinations further in the city.

  Lyra held her notebook out, asking, ‘Why a vampire museum?’

  I shrugged, tossing my hands to the side a little.

  Lyra looked over at Dinner as the person in black got out of their car. She tried her best to get Dinner to look at the book, but the half-elf’s nose was buried deep in their folding cell phone. They flicked their hand across the wide screen and tapped it a couple times. Whatever they were looking at was black with green, yellow and red off in the distance.

  “Fuck yeah!” Dinner exclaimed, throwing a fist to the sky.

  “What has you excited?” I asked, because I heard their heart leap for joy and knew Lyra likely did, too. No idea if Caleb could. He wasn't here to ask and I wasn't going to send him a message to see how he was doing. Best to give him a few days to cool off before trying to contact him.

  “All space travel is halted for next week, look!” Dinner’s eyes were bright and filled with joy as they grinned at me. They turned their large phone to show me where a huge mass of yellow and red sat just off shore. The phone magically showed the blob coming toward the peninsula before it jumped back out to sea.

  “It means I’m ‘stuck’ here until the storm passes.”

  The leading edge was already close enough to Encinar and the Peninsula across the bay that I could feel it deep in my undead bones if I focused on the feeling. Another gift of being a vampire from the sea. We could take one look at the sky and say ‘yeah, it’ll rain later’.

  And something strange was brewing just off the coast. Something I never felt before. It made the hair on the back of my neck tingle just thinking about what was approaching.

  Lyra frantically waved her hands about in the hand language she knew. Dinner tilted their head and gestured back. The two of them went back and forth for a short while before Dinner shrugged.

  “I figured she would want to see it,” the half-elf said.

  I shook my head. “It's okay, Lyra. I’m curious about what a museum has to say about vampires.”

  The history of vampires was an odd one for mortals to be studying, really, especially because the museum truly had nothing before the Collide. It was as if we didn't exist before year 01 to mortals. Which was 1825 in ‘Standard Earth Years’ as Dinner called them. Oh, sure. The museum had books on display detailing real, but fictional accounts of vampires trying to take the limelight.

  As I wandered the wooden halls with the others, Dinner asked me questions I held no answers to when it came to the vampires. Questions like what happened in between not one, but two wars that encompassed the entire world. Again, I couldn't answer. I told Dinner as much. They seemed to be mildly confused until I reminded them that I had been asleep since before the planet broke apart because it collided with another version of itself.

  They facepalmed and shook their head from side to side, apologizing profusely for forgetting that tidbit.

  I patted them on the shoulder as we passed from one exhibit displaying a porcelain mask to another talking about early attempts at sunlight proofing automobiles. They tried steel blinds and found the vehicles became targets on the side of the road.

  Of course you’re a target on the side of the road! That’s why we had Amelia and Harlow. They could watch us during the day.

  There were artifacts dug up here and there throughout the ages, but none could conclusively be tied to any vampire until I came across a beautiful white and black dress on a wax vampire. It had a matching black parasol that would be useless at night, but that wasn’t the point of the parasol. The parasol was actually a hidden rifle. Nice long sleeves covered a hidden throwing blade on her left arm. She had a high shirt collar and built-in neck armor that could protect from a bite, but I knew how best to slip the neck guard off without Amelia realizing it until it was too late.

  And then she’d slap my hip and take the collar back with a kiss to the cheek.

  The faint outline of boiled leather armor was still sewn into the torso in an effort to ward off staking. I preferred a metal breastplate myself. What with the situation that led to my embrace. Anything short of a rifle round could be stopped then.

  I wanted to reach out and touch the figure wearing her fine clothes, because it resembled her in life. Hold her hands and spin her around as she laughed and giggled with music. To dance under the stars with Amelia again and stare into her blue eyes.

  “They preserved her dress…” I whispered to myself.

  I placed a hand over my breast as I took in Amelia’s gun belt where she kept three knives and a revolver.

  Dinner stepped up to a plaque and read it to themself. “Huh. It's a replica of a dress that some unknown vampire wore in the early days.”

  “No.” I shook my head slowly. “It's Amelia’s dress. My mortal retainer. She and I spent many a night living under the stars, moving from town to town with my sire and her retainer Harlow. Amelia was beautiful beyond comparison. Rivaled only by the Mother Moon. Her infectious smile could be felt across the nation. A dancer with no equal. I have no heart to give, because she stole what was left and kept it hidden in… in…” My voice trailed off as an odd dampness ran down my cheeks.

  Already knowing what it was, I reached for my handkerchief only to find nothing in my pockets. I again felt for the item as a tightness grew in my chest. Something I hadn't experienced in so long I smacked the spot with a thump. My dead chest echoed in reply.

  A strange weight descended upon me and threatened to pull my corpse to the floor. I stood up as best I could, barely feeling the ground beneath my feet as my legs turned to soggy noodles.

  “Do you need me to do anything?” Dinner asked.

  “Go home, Dinner,” I said quietly, looking away from the lanky half-elf and shielded my face. “Forget about me or you’ll end up like my rose; Beheaded and thrown in an unmarked grave.”

  Dinner looked deflated as their earlier smile was replaced with a frown. The luster in their eyes became the same hollow look from the other day when they were drunk. They looked at the tile floor for a moment. “What did I do wrong?”

  “It’s me.” I shook my head, bringing my hand up to pat Dinner on the shoulder. They tensed in a way that made me stop what I was about to do. I turned it into a handshake offer instead. “I am trying to keep you alive.”

  Dinner shook my hand and looked over at Lyra. The elf stood in front of a tall mirror, staring at her own reflection in an attempt to fix her hair. A deep frown crossed the fledgling’s face as her blurry self stared back at her. Her appearance wasn't so far gone yet. She could still do her hair and makeup.

  There was no saving me. One dagger thrust on a dark altar and I was doomed to never see myself again.

  One of the museum’s guides walked toward us. He hadn't quite noticed I was bleeding from my face just yet.

  Dinner pointed at my face. “Your eyes are bleeding.”

  If they made Amelia’s dress as accurate as it looked then there was a plan. I sent Dinner to distract the employee and ducked underneath the ropes blocking us from getting too close. It was easier than I thought, because Dinner asked them a random question about vampires. One that was so completely off the wall it made Lyra look over at the half-elf.

  I ignored Dinner’s query as I reached into the mannequin’s right cuff and felt a thin bit of extra cloth. She thought she was so clever keeping it there and pulling it out as a magic trick anytime I didn't have a handkerchief on me, because she stole it and put it in her handbag while I was distracted. And now her foresight again was my gain.

  They assumed the handkerchief would be silk, but it depended on what social circles we needed to infiltrate that day. Most of the time she carried a linen one in the hidden pocket.

  I slipped the silk cloth from the pocket and wiped my face as best I could. Without someone to guide me or do it for my unholy corpse, I had to guess and with no water. Well, it would be obvious that I had been bleeding from my eyes.

  Dinner and Lyra were keeping the employee busy for me as I slipped back into the main aisle like nothing happened. When I approached them, I recognized the man from the club who had been sitting with the military man.

  Again, his eyes lit up like the sun when they fell upon me. “You!” he exclaimed, finally catching his words.

  Dinner looked between the man and I for a moment. “Huh?” The half-elf cocked their head.

  The man pointed at me. “Her! You! Amelia!”

  “What?” I shook my head, closing my eyes at the nonsense I just heard. “What?!”

  The blood sack scrambled past Dinner and Lyra, practically bowling me over as he grabbed my shoulders. “You’re her!”

  “Unhand me and kneel, mortal!” I ordered, focusing blood on my voice as the man tried to pull me toward him.

  He blinked a few times as he released me. The confusion on his face reached a twitch in his eye. Shadows swirled in his mind, whispering the same thing I just said until he listened. He slowly got down on one knee in reverence, dipping his head.

  “I… I apologize,” he groveled. He rested his hands on his chest like some servant of mine. “Mother Cassandra, please forgive me, for I have failed you.”

  “What in the devil are you jabbering about, blood sack?” I asked.

  Dinner gulped and gave us room by backing up. They stuffed their thumbs into their front sweater pocket and let their hands hang outside as if they weren't sure what to do.

  The human recognized who I was, but had the wrong name, so he was clearly wrong. However, he had an exact replica of Amelia’s dress and her likeness on display. The only way for him to attain it was either the hunters dissected the dress, and took a photo of her head, which was unlikely considering what my sire told me, or someone gave him the pattern and a portrait.

  And that pattern was a secret shared between Amelia and I.

  “This museum was your idea, Mother,” the man said as his eyes pleaded with me to recall events I didn't remember.

  ‘Who is this?’ Lyra asked, flicking a finger against her book to get my attention.

  I slowly shook my head. “He is wrong. The city was my idea, but not a museum. There would be more things from the old days if that were the case.”

  I turned around and walked away from the man.

  “Mother!” he called out. “Please, wait!”

  “I want to go home, Dinner.” I flicked my hand for them to follow. Lyra had no choice. She didn't fully know how to survive as a vampire and would follow me until I released her into the wild or she felt she was ready. Dinner followed me silently, since they were my ride.

  “They stole your work, Mother,” the man called out. “They tried to bury you. Please remember! Remember Flanders.”

  I glanced back at the human. The others looked at me for an idea of what to do. Flanders? “So what if I am Flemish?”

  The man grinned as he got to his feet and reached out to shake my hand. I didn't reciprocate, so he stepped back. “I do not speak of Flanders Fields where the poppies grow, but the person you called Flanders. The vampire Train Engineer who helped orchestrate all of this.” He motioned around us as if to make it seem impressive. "They are the feral Courier from Milwaukee. Do you not remember them?"

  “What is your name?” I asked.

  “David,” he replied. The man placed his hands together as if he were praying. “My family has served you since you came to Westcal. We took care of your holdings during the day with your loyal servant, Amelia Schmidt, as our matriarch. Please remember your family...”

  My hands flexed at his words. There was no way anyone but me and my sire should know her name, but as I looked around at the museum. I could see her subtle influences in the layout. Although, anyone could have made a decision to design metal blinds and exits facing the least amount of sunlight. The lack of mirrored surfaces anywhere, too, except for the one ‘old vampire test’.

  “Amelia is… still alive as a spirit bound to my house. I don't know what keeps her there, but I want her to find peace and move on.”

  The man blinked a few times at my reply, brows furrowed in confusion. “Mother? Have you not figured out that you are what keeps her here?”

  “Me?” I believe my sire mentioned something about it, but to hear a random mortal say that? It sliced through my unbeating heart and I looked at my nails for advice they couldn't give. “I keep her here? How do you know this?”

  “It was not just Mrs. Schmidt keeping you safe all these years, but her whole family. I am her descendant. I took a vow to keep you hidden until you awakened from torpor.”

  I shook my aching hand, glancing at a confused Lyra for a moment before staring the mortal down. “Who staked me?” I demanded, staring into his eyes and using my blood to make him tell the truth.

  David’s face took on a shadowed, sad look as he frowned and held my gaze. “Your sire… She snuck into your home in 1844 and staked you as you tried to rouse for the evening, sealing the coffin with help from a witch. She murdered your servants. Only those that were away on holiday were spared.”

  I'd heard enough of his prattling and walked away from the mortal. “Let’s go, Dinner. Lyra.”

  “Wait!” David called out. “Please believe me!”

  I didn't.