I drove west to the town of South Fork. I needed to put time and distance between myself and Cavagnolo. Stupid paranoid bastard wouldn’t listen. I’d told him to keep his big nose clear of me and that I would take care of those responsible for the mutilations.
But Cavagnolo interfered, twice. I’ve made his goons look like drunken clowns. I was positive my name was at the top of his to-do list.
I stopped in an all-night diner. The place had a Lincoln Logs exterior. The motif inside was rustic yellow pine and antlers. A waitress mopped the floor. The few customers were scattered about the counter and booths. Everyone acted like they’d recently come out of hibernation and didn’t talk or move much.
The time was 2 A.M. Working both nights and days wore us vampires out. Didn’t help that the sun’s rays weakened us despite sunblock and makeup. My brain felt like it was full of wet cotton. A quick snooze in a casket would reset my psychic equilibrium. Maybe I should break into a mortuary.
I took a seat at a booth in the corner farthest from the entrance. I needed space and privacy. The waitress put the mop aside, rinsed her hands in a sink behind the counter, and set a coffee cup and a menu in front of me.
I planned my next moves and wrote my questions on a notepad. Where were the Z? (Shorthand for zombies.) Why had they taken the psychotronic diviner? Could Phaedra use her psychic power to find Z? Why had they attacked Gino? Where had they taken his body? For what purpose? Was the missing man I recently read about also a Z victim?
I unfolded the topographical map and studied the terrain. The reanimator was somewhere in this labyrinth of mountains and valleys.
Or was he? I assumed the zombies remained close in proximity to their creator.
But the first zombie had attacked me in Aurora, hundreds of miles from here.
If the Araneum could find me with a crow, why couldn’t they send that bird to look for the zombie farm and leave a trail of poop for me to follow?
My life as a vampire. Do everything the hard way.
The waitress came by with coffee. She glanced over my notes and map. She asked, “You a bounty hunter?”
My eyebrows gave a huh? “No,” I said, “I’m checking out the real estate.”
“Yeah, right.” She filled my cup. “With that map and at this time of the morning? Honey, trouble’s written all over you.”
“Is that a clinical analysis?”
“You like using big words, don’t you?” She readied an order pad. “No, it’s the opinion of a girl who’s had too many boyfriends with lots of different occupations.”
So much for being in stealth mode.
I ordered eggs over easy, bacon, and hash browns. Wheat toast. Buttered. After the meal arrived I pretended to smear ketchup over the eggs and potatoes to hide the O-negative I’d brought in. I used the toast to wipe the plate clean of egg yolk and blood.
I kept watch outside. At the moment it wasn’t the zombies or Cavagnolo I feared but the sunrise.
The landscape brightened by degrees. Yellow light painted the tops of the surrounding mountains.
Fear wormed through my guts. I could feel the breath of the sun coming to incinerate me.
I retreated to the men’s room with my backpack. I locked myself in a stall and waited. I felt like a lobster that had molted and needed to hide until its shell hardened. While in the stall I shaved with an electric razor and applied sunblock and makeup. These mundane details are overlooked in classic vampire literature.
The psychic signal started. I slammed my hands against the sides of the stall to steady myself. The signal echoed once, then shrank to silence.
What was Phaedra doing?
When I stepped out of the men’s room, the restaurant seemed normal. Plenty of morning customers. No one acting like they wanted trouble.
The dawn had passed and I was safe from the sunrise. My cell phone chimed to alert me of a text message.
CALL MEP
Phaedra.
“Felix, you okay?” she answered, breathless.
“I’m all right.”
“Thank goodness. Where are you?”
“In South Fork.” This was the first time we’d talked since her uncle took her away. “That was you just now, wasn’t it?” I asked.
Phaedra started to answer when in the background of the phone, a woman called out over a loudspeaker. She wanted a price check on enchilada sauce.
“Where are you?” I asked.
“In Del’s Budget Grocery.”
I remembered Del’s as the only supermarket in Morada.
“What are you doing there?”
“Hanging out before school starts.”
“You’re okay then? About Gino?”
“No, I’m not okay. But I can’t bring him back, can I? It’s you I’m worried about.”
“That’s two of us. Let’s talk in person. I’ll meet you there.”
“Better hurry. School starts in a few minutes.”
“Play hooky.”
“Only for first period. I hate my civics teacher.”
We clicked off.
I started back to Morada, concerned that Cavagnolo and friends could’ve eavesdropped on Phaedra and be waiting in ambush. Maybe I was giving them too much credit because I arrived at Del’s Budget Grocery without so much as a bug smacking my windshield.
Huge new pickups and tiny beaters cruised the parking lot in random circles. Whatever the model or make, every vehicle had green and yellow ribbons fluttering from the antennas. Windows were scrawled with Go Panthers!
Kids stood in groups alongside the building. Phaedra remained alone. She wore an off-white ski parka and a backpack, and cradled a paper bag.
She made eye contact and started for me.
A trio of large boys broke from a clique and blocked her. They all had green jackets with Morada High embroidered across the back. Two of the boys wore cowboy hats.
They stood shoulder to shoulder, their hands resting inside their jeans’ pockets, each of them assuming a bully’s stance.
Phaedra’s face pinched with distress.
I had to rescue her but I couldn’t afford to tangle with high schoolers. It would cause too much trouble with the authorities. If anything happened, I better handle this sitation quickly and smoothly. I removed my contacts and put my sunglasses back on.
Phaedra glanced from boy to boy. Her right eyelid fluttered in a nervous spasm.
The boys laughed. The shortest of the bunch got close to Phaedra and stretched one leg behind hers. Another boy tipped his hat and moved forward.
Phaedra stepped back and tripped on the leg. She stumbled and dropped the paper bag. Something inside broke and liquid spilled over the asphalt.
My anger turned blade sharp. I got out of the Toyota and pushed between two of the boys, my vampire strength easily brushing them aside.
Phaedra wouldn’t look at me. I reached for her hand and pulled her up. Her face was red with shame. Her right eye was closed tight and the eyelashes trembled.
“This guy your new boyfriend, Blinky?” the shortest of the bullies asked. His jacket had a chenille M decorated with football-shaped medallions.
Blinky? Kids were cruel.
Phaedra kept her head down and wiped tears.
I put my arm around her and we walked toward my Toyota.
Short guy gave me the once-over. “Where’d you find this dinosaur, Blinky?”
He says Blinky one more time and I’ll use his tongue to wipe my dipstick. I was a couple of inches taller than him but he outweighed me by forty pounds, easily. Made no difference.
His friends tugged at his arm. “Come on, Jason. Let it go.”
Jason gave an arrogant grin, convinced there was little I could to do to him, a minor.
“Who the hell are you, old man? Her Prince Charming? Why bother? She’s no princess.” He waved a finger to his pals. “She’s the school blow-job bitch. Gives good ones too as long as you don’t make eye contact with her. You know.” Jason blinked his right eye. “Freaks you out. Isn’t that right, Blinky?”