Night School Book 2: Vampire Legion Page 3

  Norman stepped back from the rail. How can this be? He grabbed Elijah's arm still staring at the entombed enemies below. “We need to get out of here.”

  “Norman.” Elijah didn't budge. “Do you remember the alterations they made to Skeete and his crowd?” said Elijah.

  “Yes,” replied Norman thinking back on their near invincibility. Skeete's heart and skin had been altered at the DNA level. She couldn't be staked or burned by the sun.

  “They were beta models.”

  “What do you mean?” said Norman.

  “These will make Skeete Daniels seem like a pussy cat,” replied Elijah.

  Worse than Skeete? She had nearly killed Norman and his students. How could he possibly keep the Nymphs safe from this new threat? He never should have taken them down into the sewers all those weeks ago, never should have changed Felicia.

  Norman opened his mouth to speak. He could only manage “How?...”

  “They were made to be soldiers, but the war ended to soon. They weren’t ready.”

  Elijah's face turned to stone. “They’re ready now.” Elijah stopped talking to let the new reality sink into Norman’s brain. “And there are forty storage units just like this one in cities around the world.”

  3

  Signs

  Norman had learned to differentiate the way individuals knocked on his office door. The current knocking couldn’t be Ms. Sperry. She employed a rapid knock with a light touch that trailed off to nothing. This knock was heavy and repeated only twice. It rang with authority.

  “Come in, Dean Hadley,” said Norman.

  The door opened slowly and a stubble-faced heavy-set man took two steps in. Dirk Hadley had thick arms with a Marine Corps tattoo on one of them. He’d taught Phys. Ed. for years during the day at MLK. He’d been promoted to Dean of discipline at Night School this year. The staff chatter indicated they weren’t so sure it was a promotion. Still, he was rigid and wasn’t afraid of the students. An asset.

  “Who is it today, Mr. Hadley?” asked Norman.

  “Mr. Bernard, we’ve got one of our regulars today.” Hadley stepped aside to reveal Elijah standing behind him. “Step inside, son. You can talk it over with Mr. Bernard.” He watched the young man stride through the doorway. “He’s all yours,” said Hadley, closing the door.

  “What did you do?” asked Norman.

  “I told Ms. Houser to fuck off,” Elijah replied.

  “Five minutes into the school day? Seriously?” said Norman, annoyed. “You need to find a better way of getting in touch with me.”

  “Sorry,” replied Elijah. “It’s true. I actually like Ms. Houser.”

  “Have you learned more about the incubators?” Norman thought back to the rows and rows of Corps. V soldiers he'd seen in that warehouse. His mouth dried..

  “A bit.” No hint of relief crossed Elijah’s face. “They’ll open in a few days. We don’t have much time to prepare.” Elijah swallowed and sat. “I think you should put in for a leave of absence. We need your help full time. The nymphs, too.”

  “That’s out of the question. I’m not involving them, and I'm not getting involved,” said Norman. “If I get involved, there is no way to keep them out of it. Besides, Elijah…” Norman paused, his face drooping. “What could I hope to do against thousands of those…hyper-mutants?”

  “There’s the one bit of good news. As far as we can tell, they won’t all be ready at the same time”

  “I thought you said it would open in a few days?” said Norman, puzzled.

  “Ours will,” added Elijah “we’re not sure about the others.”

  Cold comfort. Just one warehouse full of invincible vampires would mean the end of him, his Nymphs, everything. “How can we find out?” asked Norman.

  A rapid knock interrupted, loud at first, then fading away. Ms. Sperry.

  “Not now,” replied Norman. “I’m meeting with a student.”

  “I’m so sorry to interrupt,” said Ms. Sperry’s sincere voice. “It’s Elijah’s father. He’s here to pick him up.”

  Norman raised an eyebrow and shifted his glance from the door to Elijah. “Father?” Elijah betrayed a hint of a smirk and shrugged his shoulders, palms up. How adolescent. Perhaps he was a teenager after all.

  “Okay, Ms. Sperry, send him in.” Norman had never met Elijah’s parents. Norman actually wondered if Elijah was really high school age.

  The door swung open, and a man in a smart jacket and tie with khaki pants walked into the room. “Thank you, ma' am,” the gentleman said before turning to face Norman.

  Norman stood speechless for a moment staring at the face that smiled at him. He hadn’t expected to see this face turn up in his school.

  “Hello Norman”, said Chip Harding. Norman hadn't seen the old party councilor since they'd confronted Skeete in the warehouse. “It’s been too long.”

  Norman looked over at Elijah. “Father indeed.”

  Elijah's smirk widened to a smile at his little ruse. “I had a feeling I’d need a little help convincing you.”

  “There’s more of us out there than you think,” said Chip. “But not nearly enough. We need you, Norman.”

  “It’s out of the question, Chip,” replied Norman. “Last time I was running. I took my students into the sewers with me to protect them. I didn’t realize I was leading them right into the fight. I won’t make that mistake again.” Norman observed Elijah flash Chip an I-told-you-so glance. “Plus, now I’ve got the Nymphs,” he added.

  “Look, Norman,” said Chip. “I’m putting the PDRV back together.”

  A new party? Even after all this destruction? Norman almost visibly shuddered. He still hated the old allegiances and where they inevitably led. Why build up the same warring factions just to destroy each other again? “I don’t want any part in that.”

  “No part in it?” questioned Chip. “You’re a hero to them. To us. We were about to be wiped out…picked off a few at a time until there were none left.”

  “Instead I got most of us…you…killed all in one day,” retorted Norman.

  “But we won. You won. You showed us that we can fight. That we don’t have to hide and wait to be destroyed,” said Chip.

  “You’re their leader now, Chip.”

  Chip's glance fell to the floor. “Not in their eyes. I’m just a politician. You’re a man of action. I can rally them together. But they’ll follow you into battle.”

  “To their deaths,” punctuated Norman. Richie. Keon. No more. “You want me to mastermind a fight with vampires who’ve been mutated so they can’t be destroyed by light or wood? It sounds like there’s no way to beat them.”

  “We’re working on that.”

  “There’s that ‘we’ again.”

  “We,” said Elijah, pausing for emphasis, “believe there's a microbiological solution. The source of their new ‘talents’ springs from the rewiring of the DNA in each of their cells. That’s where we’re looking for a weakness.”

  Norman waved a hand at Chip. “Good luck with that. Leave me out of it.”

  Chip's voice cracked. “You’re part of this, Norman.” Norman saw the desperation in his face. “One way or another, this will touch you, and despite your efforts, your Nymphs too.”

  “I’ve tried leading children into the thick of a fight before.” Norman’s mind flashed to Declan being thrown buy Rufus through the opening in the catacombs. To Felicia lying dazed on the cobble floor. To Richie Taylor swinging through the air in flames. To Keon...Norman's body deflated. “Never again. This time we’ll try something different.” He straightened back up. “If you’re building the PDRV back up, a few Nymphs and a school headmaster will be the least of Skeete’s concerns.”

  “You can’t hide in this brick building forever,” pleaded Chip.

  “It sounds like you’ve got some smart people working on it. I’ve got a school to run. Let me show you out, gentlemen.” Norman rose from his seat, concluding the argument.

  Norman opened
the door to his office and walked quickly past the front desk with Elijah and Chip. “Now Mr. Cummings, I hope you will reinforce what we talked about with your son. Let me show you to your car.” Norman had to put on a show for the office staff.

  Chip and Elijah remained silent. In a moment they were in the hall and Norman let the facade fall away. They continued in silence crossing the school parking lot. As they reached a black compact with very dark tinted windows, Chip made one last plea. “Norman. We’ve been able to build up some strength. Elijah and his…friends…are overtly supporting us now.”

  “I wouldn’t say that,” added Elijah.

  Chip glanced over at him, and then back to Norman. “What we don’t have is someone who can glamour a vampire.”

  Now Norman could see why Chip and Elijah had put on such a hard sell. They needed Norman’s special ability. “It's not like I can glamor any vampire, any time. It’s a random thing. I can’t predict it and can barely control it.”

  Chip raised an eyebrow and flipped back into his politician personality. His voice became smooth and confident. His aura was like a magnet. It made vampires want to be part of it, to be his friend. “If you come with us, maybe we can explore that. We could take it far. Imagine a power like that during election time.”

  Elijah looked over at Chip and spoke with emphasis to reorient the conversation, “…or during a battle against vampires with no weaknesses.”

  “Of course,” replied Chip, snapping back into the moment. Then his face drooped and his aura faded. “Norman. I’ve been meaning to ask you about your…ability. Are you…,” he paused and considered. “Are you a Worm?”

  “He’s not a Worm,” said Elijah with a huff.

  “A Worm?” replied Norman.

  “He’s not old enough. Not even close,” said Elijah, annoyed.

  Although Norman’s curiosity was piqued, he needed to end this conversation definitively. “I’m sorry. You’re on your own. I’m out. So are my Nymphs.” He extended a hand to Chip. His tone switched from authority to sincerity. “Good luck, Chip. I’m sorry.” He wondered if he should try to use his ‘ability’ on Chip to get rid of him. However, he felt the momentum of the conversation going his way. Chip would leave and return to his politicking, his mission here unaccomplished.

  Norman stood with his hand outstretched. He waited for Chip to return the gesture, however Chip’s eyes shifted and seemed to gaze right past him. After an uncomfortable moment passed, Norman noticed that Elijah stared past him as well.

  Norman looked over his shoulder to see what had grabbed their attention. Despite the darkness outside, his vision saw the bright red paint sprayed onto the side of his school building. His hand dropped to his side as he rotated to face the school. Norman’s recently won hope of being left alone faded as he saw, sprayed upon the wall of the school, a giant red Corps. V insignia. Norman didn't want to be involved in this mad jockey for power in the vampire post-apocalypse. Apparently, that would not be an option.

  “It seems, Norman,” said Chip, “that no matter how hard you try to stay out of trouble and do the right thing, sometimes trouble finds you.”

  Norman had spent most of his vampire life, trying to remain unconnected, however, Chip’s statement had become somewhat of a theme for him. In fact, now that Chip had put it that way, even his human life had seemed to run in that vein.

  Norman thought back to his last days as a human. Old, seldom used neurons in his brain fired, reminding him of an entire life he’d lived before.

  Before.

  His eyes stared right through the MLK Night School building as his mind reached back to another time.

  Norman marched alone through weed covered, two rutted roads with a dead man’s journal in his pocket. He’d left his regiment. Or, more accurately, they’d moved on without him, probably counting him among the dead. He still wore his ragged and torn Union uniform. He thought it might get him killed in the deep south, but it was the only clothing he had. Perhaps it would at least gain him status as a prisoner of war. His ammunition spent, he’d left his rifle by the side of a road some distance back. He carried the pistol, fully loaded minus one round, on his belt. He had no intention of using it. If it came to fighting, he knew he was done.

  He arrived at the junction the farmer he’d met a few miles down the road had mentioned. Norman looked for the wooden sign he’d described. “Briar Thicket Way” were the words that would tell him he’d neared the end of his journey. However, no sign stood at the crossroad.

  Sweat poured down his face in the hot sun as he pondered his next move. He reveled in the heat beating down on him. He’d always yearned for a part of the country without ice and cold, without days of shivering students. He’d lay all day, naked in the sun, if he had the opportunity. He sat in the tall grass on the side of the road and sipped the last of the water from his canteen.

  He noticed something hard underneath him as he moved to get back up. He rolled onto his knees to inspect. He unmatted the thick grass and discovered a rotten wooden sign. A decayed nub of a post still clung to its center. It had letters carved into it. Those that were still legible read “…et Way.” He had arrived.

  Minutes later, Norman knocked on the door of the small wooden house. After no answer came, he knocked again. He turned away from the door to take in the area as he waited on the front porch. The small farm next to the house had lost its battle with nature and was overrun with various flowering weeds. Norman thought they were beautiful but probably inedible. He wondered if the Confederate officer’s wife had abandoned the house, as well as the farm. He decided he’d give one last knock and leave the journal leaning against the front door if no one answered.

  He turned back around to approach the door once again and was startled to find a woman standing between him and the door. Norman’s surprise at how quickly and silently she’d moved in behind him was soon replaced with awe at her startling beauty. She wore a delicate dress with an intricate pattern. The fashion appeared to be out of date, but beautiful in an ancient, regal way. He traced the patterns and unfamiliar decorations up the laced front. As his eyes reached the top of the dress, his modesty prevented him from dwelling on her exposed skin. He looked directly at her face and found it easy to fall into her dark, almost black eyes. Making them appear even darker, almost like holes into the void, was her silvery-white hair. Norman found himself unable to say a word.

  She looked down at the Journal he held in his hand. “I believe you have something of mine,” she said. She looked back into his eyes as she reached one hand down to his and retrieved the book.

  “Madam,” said Norman, coming to his senses. “Forgive me, I have travelled far and have difficult news.”

  The woman placed a finger over his lips. “Shhhhhh.” The sound trailed off to an echo. Norman felt himself unable to speak. He felt his thoughts and feelings becoming surrounded by a soft cocoon, guiding them this way and that.

  “Won’t you come in, Mr…?”

  Of course he would come in. If it would please her, he would do anything. “Bernard,” he said as she opened the door, took his hand and guided him inside. “Norman Bernard.”

  Norman had spent his last day in the sun when he met Skeete Daniels. Now, after Skeete had taken the sun, she wanted to destroy everything he loved.

  4

  The Best Defense

  Norman hated the sun. As dawn approached, he led his Nymphs through the streets of the old warehouse district. He shuddered a bit as he thought about spending the day away from the light sealed condo. It was a sacrifice he knew he had to make in order to prepare his Nymphs for what they would inevitably face at sunrise every day. They came upon the warehouse where they’d defeated Skeete’s henchmen and his ‘improved’ Corps V. The group stopped to look at the ruined building. The police tape that surrounded it was cut in several places and lay on the ground, tracing out an incomplete perimeter around the structure.

  One of the walls had caved completely in as had the remain
s of the roof. They could see the shelving units that Norman, Felicia, and Declan had hid under during some of the fighting. They also saw what remained of their enemies: burnt carbon spread about the floor by the breeze.

  The whole group stopped and stared in silence. Norman saw the fear rise up again in their faces.

  “They’re gone, right?” asked Cindy. “I mean dead? For good?”

  “Just ash and cinder now,” said Norman. “What’s inside that building can’t hurt you anymore. All dead enemies.”

  “And Mr. Taylor,” added Keon.

  “And Mr. Taylor,” agreed Norman. It was as if a fist clutched Norman's heart. He put an arm around Keon and squeezed.

  Keon’s gaze fell to his shoes. A student teacher is lucky if they’re able to form a real bond with one or two students. Keon brought him up frequently in class and after. But Keon was no stranger to loss. Perhaps he’d had enough. Norman saddened as he realized that in the coming decades, Keon would lose everything that he’d known. Perhaps that wasn’t so bad for Keon, though. Perhaps that’s why he’d made the choice.

  Anyhow, it couldn’t be undone, so Norman had to prepare them the best he could to face their new world. He was determined not to repeat the mistakes he’d made with Richie.

  Norman spoke with loud authority. “Today, you’ll learn to fight the greatest enemy you’ll face in your vampire lifetimes. This enemy is older than vampires, older than humans, older than every living thing on this Earth. No matter what you do, it will come at you day after day until it finally destroys the world.” Norman made eye contact with each of his six Nymphs. “Today you learn to fight the Sun.”