Night School Book 2: Vampire Legion Page 18

  “I have slept long. Why have you awakened me?” he repeated.

  Chip stepped forward. “We need your help.”

  The Worm stepped closer to Chip and sniffed. Then he looked over Chip’s shoulder at Matt Barnes. “And I see you have brought me a sacrifice to pay for your request.”

  Matt took a small step back. “Uhhhh…No thanks, I gave at the office.”

  “We didn’t come here to barter with you,” interrupted Chip. “We have nothing to offer. We’re desperate. We come to you as a species on the verge of extinction.”

  The Worm backed away from Chip. His dirt caked face seemed so far away from the moment as if lost in his thoughts, in another time. He gazed into Chip’s eyes, piercing them. Chip fidgeted with his hands in his pockets. Finally, He looked down, unable to confront the intensity of the gaze.

  “You pay the price of your choices,” said the Worm.

  Chip’s political talents failed him. He was a master at knowing the pressure points of people from whom he needed something. No such points existed for the Worm. Impotence squeezed out Chip’s confidence.

  “So will you,” interrupted Norman.

  The Worm turned his penetrating gaze to Norman.

  Norman already regretted his words. He was right, of course, but now Norman would do almost anything to get those eyes off him.

  The Worm held his stare well beyond the point of discomfort. Sweat spurted through the pores of Norman's skin.

  “How did you know my name?” asked Norman.

  A smile crawled up the Worm’s face. His amusement stopped just short of an audible laugh. “I know your name,” replied the Worm. “However, it is not ‘Norman Bernard.’”

  Norman’s mind reeled. What could he possibly mean? Norman had never changed his name over the years as so many vampires did to conceal their age. This Worm held power in his glance. How was he doing this? Norman had never met any vampire like this before. At this rate, he would undo his whole group with just his eyes. However, Norman had learned over the years in his little urban classroom to hide inner turmoil and project control. “You have me at a disadvantage,” said Norman hiding his confusion over the Worm’s statement. “You know my name, but I do not know yours.”

  Now a laugh escaped the Worm’s lips. The laugh sounded more like the gasp of the dying. The speech apparatus in this throat had obviously lay dormant for a long time. His raspy whisper of a voice creaked through the chords in his neck. “I am Alric.”

  Norman wished the name alone would provide answers, but he'd never heard it. But he had a thousand questions he wished to ask. However, he had an objective to accomplish and his success or failure would determine the fate of all vampires. “There’s a war.”

  “I am not interested in your wars,” replied Alric.

  “This one’s different,” said Norman.

  Alric stared at Norman. He wasn’t sure if the Worm waited for Norman to finish his statement. Norman struggle to put the ideas in his head together to form sentences. The gaze of the Worm had him on the defensive.

  “They are all different,” said Alric, finally. Norman would have to get used to this new pace of conversation. “The villagers chase us with sharpened sticks. The masters send their dogs after us. A council hangs us in the village square in the dead of night. A horde of men in metal cut us with their useless sharpened metal. They shoot us with…more metal. I think they have grown stupid. The villagers had the right of it.” He stopped speaking again. Norman waited this time, refusing to let the long silences unnerve him. “I know, Norman Bernard. They are not stupid. They just forget. That’s why we are here. We are the memory of the Earth.” He looked back at the grave from which he’d just emerged. “After all else has returned to the Earth, we remember.” Alric’s vocal chords began to squeak out sounds as they flexed for the first time in many years. “We have learned to give up war. They all end the same way. A piece of the Earth’s memory…many pieces…gone forever.”

  “Sometimes you have to fight,” said Matt Barnes.

  Norman almost jumped, startled by his former student’s voice. He wished Matt had kept quiet. He was way beyond his depth.

  Alric’s voice had regained enough function for a chuckle to erupt from his lips. “The Earth speaks.” He moved his gaze to Matt. “What do you know of memory?” He stared at Matt who clearly began to become undone. “You are barely apart from the Earth. You spring up and dissolve in little more than a heartbeat.” He cocked his head to the side. “Though I am glad for that beat. It pumps all we need for life beyond life.” He straightened his head back up. “A perfect system, really.”

  Matt managed a word. “How?”

  The Worm smiled as if talking to a child. “A brief spring pushes life up from the dead stuff of the Earth, green and vital. It’s flowers and leaves look upon the sun for only a moment, and then return to the dead things that made them. That’s enough though. These tiny spurts of life are all you need to keep yourselves going for years.” The Worm waited. “You are the same to us. Right now, you are in your spring, however, soon you will be…” Alric looked down at his body and scraped up a handful of dirt from his chest. He clasped it in his fist and rubbed his fingers together, allowing the dirt to sift out between them. “That’s enough though. Your temporary nature guarantees our permanence. A perfect system.”

  Chip broke in, “Come with us. See for yourself. You won’t survive this either.”

  Alric answered him with his penetrating stare.

  “You all need to be part of this. With your strength and your…memory, we would have a chance,” said Chip. “Otherwise all is lost.”

  “All will be forgotten,” added Norman.

  “We do not join. Not with you. Not together. There is no we,” said Alric, finally. “I have rested in the Earth for a thousand years. Tonight, I will drink. Then I shall sleep for a thousand more. When I awake again, you will likely be dead. If you are wise, you will sleep, too. Return to the old ways. Allow yourselves to regain your strength and your memory.”

  Norman wondered if he was done speaking or searching for the right words to finish his thoughts.

  “Likely, you will not,” said Alric. “Likely, you will be dead.”

  Bronte huffed. “We could just take you.” She moved forward to grasp him.

  Norman felt a gentle hand caress his will. Then he was gone. Then everything was gone. The sky shifted from black to blue. Soft clouds floated overhead. Warm air blew across his face. Daylight. Norman was in daylight. He lay in a bed of soft grass, basking. He loved the sun. Its warmth showered down on him like rays of life. How was this possible? Norman stretched his arms out and clutched at the grass. He pulled fistfuls of the green stuff and tossed it into the air. The blades rained down and covered him. The grass was a deep rich green. It seemed as if each blade radiated a light of its own. Norman was swimming in light.

  Suddenly, the sky turned black. He whirled through time again. A century of night. Returning to the present moment.

  Norman stared at the ancient vampire, Alric. His friends all stood about him just as they had been. However, now each of them held a wooden stake with its tip resting on the skin over their hearts. Norman felt a pinprick on his own chest. He looked down and saw that he held his own stake, poised for a suicide thrust. The group of vampires all shook off a fog and emerged into the same confusion that now gripped Norman.

  “What’s this?” shouted MacManus.

  Bronte’s fangs shot out with a hiss. She flipped her knife, pointing it at the Worm. Her eyes narrowed.

  Alric raised an eyebrow, staring into Bronte. “Again?” His incredulity absorbed Bronte’s anger. “Please put away the weapon.”

  All emotion drained from Bronte’s face. She relaxed her muscles and stood up strait, placing her knife into its sheath. She stood still as if awaiting commands.

  Georgios exclaimed, “He’s glamoured us all. How is that possible?”

  Matt stepped forward, “It’s possible. Mr.
Bernard can do that, too.”

  Alric looked at Norman. “Indeed?” He stared for a moment and then realization came over his face. “Indeed.”

  “You’re…orthodoxy, doesn’t make you that special,” continued Matt. “You have more at stake in this world than you care to admit. You can join. You can lead. Your power can make a difference.”

  “Young…man,” said Alric. “You have no idea of my power.”

  Norman wondered if that statement was accurate. Matt and his shadowy organization seemed to know a great many things.

  Alric looked into Norman’s eyes. “Perhaps you do,” he added. “Stay with me. You can be saved.”

  For a moment Norman wondered. Could he take this power for himself? Could he make himself the savior of all vampires? The thoughts seemed to come from outside his mind. Norman looked to each of his companions. Their faces drove away the temptation. “No thanks,” said Norman. “I’ve made my choice.”

  “Really?” said Alric. “We have few choices, yet long lives. Did you choose to be what you are?” The Worm paused as if waiting for an answer. “Do you even know what you are?” Alric seemed to use silence as a means of communication, wrapping his words in it and sending it streaming into the night. “I can make you what you were meant to be. That is your only choice. Otherwise, in time, you will lose that, too.”

  Norman could see that their cause did not concern this relic of a vampire. He had no connection to them and no reason to care. His thinking stretched millennia. The insignificance of moment to moment struggles had no meaning when put into the continuum of all creation. Perhaps he was correct. Perhaps this struggle would come and go, and he’d rise in a thousand years. That did not seem likely to Norman. Vampires had limits. The sun kept them lurking and hiding half the time. The threat of a simple piece of wood reminded them they were not, in fact, immortal. This new breed, conceived intentionally at the molecular level, changed all that. They had achieved a truly limitless potential and their Corps. V creators guided them in a malevolent path. They would kill Norman, his friends, and all who resisted. No, this struggle was different. The Worms would not sleep through this one.

  Alric’s rasps sliced through Norman’s thoughts. “I see you have, indeed, made your choice.” Disappointment slipped into the corners of his mouth.

  “Ian is dead,” interrupted Matt Barnes.

  Alric’s eyebrows raised, and his mouth bent into a frown. “This grieves me,” he said. Then he looked back at Norman. “How is it you came to know my old friend?”

  “He sought me out,” replied Norman.

  “Of course, he did,” said Alric nodding his head. He let a laugh escape his throat. “There are those who have joined in the past. They grow weak in time. I told Ian this long ago. He chose not to head my words. He joined. Ashes to Ashes.” He fell silent, subdued by memory.

  “Ian brought the survivors together,” said Norman. “He believed in our struggle.” Norman didn’t know anything about Ian’s history with Alric, but he hoped he could use it to persuade the Worm. “Heed his example. Succeed where he failed. Your new enemy is stronger than daylight. Immune to the limits of the world. They are greater than you. They will come for you.”

  “Perhaps, Norman Bernard,” said Alric, snapping back into the present. His face grew stern and serious. “In the end, you are correct. There’s nothing new I can teach you. Nothing new since the dawn of time. We are who we are. What else can we be? You’ll do well to remember that.”

  Then Norman and his friends stared into the empty space where Alric had stood. The tiniest zephyr caressed their faces signaling his departure.

  “What did he mean by that?” asked Georgios.

  “I think he means we’re all going to die,” said Chip trying not to display his despondence.

  Norman noticed.

  Alina still knelt, a stake gripped in her hands and pointing at her heart. She dropped it and stood up. Her eyes dripped. She shook her head as if awakening from a dream. “We go now. Sun.” She looked up.

  “Wait,” said Georgios. He bent down. A swarm of mushrooms had sprung up through the dirt. He hastily crawled around the hole from which Alric, The Archaea, had emerged, plucking the fungi. “We may find these useful…or at least delicious.”

  As Georgios stood back up, Norman looked at Matt Barnes, “The rest of you go. I’ll stay back with Matt.”

  “Not necessary, Mr. Bernard,” said Matt.

  “You come,” said Alina. “This dangerous place.”

  “It’s okay,” said Norman. “He has his ways.”

  Matt Barnes receded behind them as the vampires sprinted through the woods and back to the safety of their giant man-made tomb. They needed sleep. Tomorrow would be difficult.

  20

  Friends in High Places

  Norman felt relief when he arrived at the door of his old condo. Their flight had gone off without delay, allowing them plenty of darkness to navigate their way back to his old home. He had found it easier than he’d expected to arrange for Alina and the handful of wasted vampires that desired to join him.

  The real hard part came now. He dared not go back to the sewers. The Corps. V had certainly destroyed Chip’s control center. Their former stronghold had become too dangerous. He convinced Chip and the others to join him at the old condo. Skeete and company might look for him there, but they couldn’t get in.

  Norman knocked at the door and listened for the sound of Felicia inside. Instead, he heard different sounds. The movements sounded slow, pained. Norman listened. The sound of a hand gripping the knob vibrated through the door. Darkness covered the peep hole. Then a sigh of relief emerged from the other side of the door. Hearing the sound, Norman shared in the relief.

  The rattling and slide of the chain was followed by the door opening wide. An old woman stood before him, smiling at his presence. “Señor Bernard,” she said. Then her smile faded as she saw the ragged bunch that waited with Norman. She looked back at Norman, confused.

  “Hello, Mrs. Gomez,” said Norman. “These are…um…colleagues from school. We’re tutoring some students.” Norman indicated the vampire junkies near the back of the group.

  “Ah, yes,” said Mrs. Gomez in her heavily-accented English. She stepped aside to let Norman enter.

  Norman stood at the doorway, unable to proceed. “May we come in?” asked Norman.

  “Yes, Señor Bernard. Please come in.” She waved him inside.

  Norman stepped into the abode that he’d made his home for so long. He waited a moment. “May my friends come in, too?”

  “Si. Yes. Come in. Everyone welcome,” she said beckoning more vigorously with her hand.

  The group streamed in.

  Norman took an obligatory sip of tea as he sat on the couch. He did not feel much like drinking tea. He craved another liquid, not quite so hot and much more viscous. He nodded and smiled at Mrs. Gomez. “Gracias.”

  Her face widened into a warm motherly smile as she nodded.

  She retreated back to the kitchen part of the studio apartment and continued frying something that would have smelled delicious to Norman one hundred sixty years ago, but now just smelled like oil, fiber and protein, the raw materials of life.

  Alina and her former companions looked to Norman. Somehow, he’d become the one they anchored themselves to. It seemed he’d have to drag these adopted vampires around with him now. Despite the fact that they had been locked in a fight to the death just the previous day, they now seemed pathetic to him without their “father.” He could not help but pity them. The least he could do was help restore them to their former selves. It would just take time and blood. Pure blood would wash away the infection and rouse them from their self-inflicted infancy. The vampire they called “father” had not treated them with much kindness. Norman had seen, however, how desperately they obeyed him. He hadn’t cared for them as much as abused them and cast them away when they’d ceased being useful. Norman resolved to do better. They deserved a chance.
However, Norman didn’t see a way to keep them from the fight to come. They’d been hiding so long, he wondered if they knew anything else.

  “Chip, what’s our next move?” he said, looking to the politician.

  “We need help,” replied Chip. “If we go it alone, we’re finished. They’re too powerful, and there are too many of them. Soon, dozens more incubation chambers with open up and then it will be too late. They’ll tear through us and every other PDRV cell like paper.”

  Norman wondered if it was too late for any of this. The incubators would open. It would be a bloodbath on a scale the world had never known.

  Bronte spoke up, “It seems we’re out of friends. Your Worm proved useless.”

  “Maybe,” said Chip displaying a look at Norman that silently rebutted maybe not. “We need new friends.”

  “Werewolves? Worms? I think I can take or leave your friends. They haven’t seemed to work out for us.” MacManus’ familiar Irish brogue cut through Chip’s confident tone. “There’s not enough of us in the world to fight just the ones we’ve seen. Twice as many of us would just be twice as many dead vampires.”

  “I had a different idea,” said Chip. “We need mortal friends.”

  The whole group twitched and looked about the room. Mrs. Gomez looked back and smiled, continuing to work her magic at the stove.

  “I’m sure she’s a great fuckin’ cook,” said MacManus, “but she wouldn’t even stand up as well as paper.”

  Bronte cut MacManus off, “I have a question.” Her tone betrayed her frustration with the politician. She did not seem to offer the same reverence to position that her colleague, Rufus, displayed.

  Chip raised an eyebrow at the subtle flippancy.

  “Where are the enhanced Corps. V?” she asked. After they ambushed us at the headquarters, they could have taken the whole city? Why have they gone silent?”

  Chip opened his mouth to speak, but Norman interrupted. “Where are the Nymphs?”