Night School Book 2: Vampire Legion Page 6

  He walked down the hall past the windowed doors. Despite temptation, he didn’t look in as he passed each one. When he was in the classroom, he’d always hated the feeling that he was being checked up on. His footsteps eventually led him to the gymnasium. He listened for the sound of rubber shoes on wood. He heard nothing.

  He peered around the cavernous gym. In the far corner, on a mat with his eyes closed and palms in the air sat a cross-legged Blake Palleuchetti deep in meditation.

  Blake arrived at Night school around the time Norman took over as principal. Norman had taken a liking to him instantly. Unlike the other teachers in the building, he never displayed a trace of manic desperation. He approached his classes with calm and confidence. He seemed at peace in front of his groups of teens, eager to release their adolescent energy in some type of sport or other physical activity.

  Blake was a substitute for a teacher who’d left suddenly when he found another job. Norman knew how kids treated subs. It was worse in Night School. Norman had never met a substitute at Night School who returned a second time. So Norman had checked in on him on his first day. He’d been surprised that first time he approached the gym doors to hear the students shouting, cheering, and cursing each other as if engaged in the highest stakes basketball game of their lives. When Norman had opened the gymnasium doors to observe, he’d found the kids engaged in a badminton tournament. Blake had stood at the side of the court, arms folded, nodding at Norman. Anyone who could extract this much passion for badminton was going to be fine at Night School.

  Blake never went to the teacher’s lounge, preferring to spend his off time in solitude. Norman had visited him frequently during these moments. Seeking calm companionship. He always left their meetings with a nugget of advice, even if he hadn’t been seeking one.

  “Good evening, Mr. Bernard,” said Blake without opening his eyes or shifting his meditative posture. “Did they hire someone permanent for this position?” he asked, although he knew the answer.

  “Nope,” replied Norman. “You’re job’s safe for today. We’ll see tomorrow.”

  Blake blinked several times and dropped his hands to his sides. “Good. I like it here.”

  “I can’t say I’ve ever heard a teacher say that about Night School,” replied Norman.

  Blake rose to his feet. “School is school. The teacher who realizes that can teach anywhere.”

  “I really wish you’d put in for the position,” said Norman.

  “Why would I do that? School is school,” repeated Blake. “Besides, then I’d have to go to the meetings.”

  “Good point.” Norman chuckled. “The only thing worse than going to those meetings is running them.”

  Blake looked into Norman’s face. “Your mind is heavy today, friend.”

  “You have no idea,” said Norman. “Maybe I should be a sub, too. Then I could just leave and pop up somewhere else.”

  “You’re somewhere else right now,” replied Blake. “Wherever you go…”

  “…there you are,” Norman completed.

  “Or aren’t,” said Blake. “In my experience, people are always so worried about where they are, they forget that the alternative is ‘aren’t’.”

  “Blake, for once ‘aren’t’ is exactly what I’m worried about,” said Norman.

  Blake nodded his head. He looked at his watch. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a class coming in three minutes.”

  “What’s the plan for today?” Norman asked.

  Blake smiled. “Yoga.”

  Norman smiled back and shook his head. “Yoga indeed,” he muttered as he walked back into the hall.

  Norman strode quickly back to the main office determined to avoid “aren’t.” He’d run long enough. Sneaking away wouldn't save him...or his Nymphs. They needed him. But how could he make a difference against those things hibernating in the warehouse? He couldn't, at least not with his simple sunlight training. They needed more.

  Norman thrust the main office door open. “Ms. Sperry, how long before the bell rings?”

  Elaine looked at the clock on the wall. “Forty-five seconds.”

  “Perfect,” replied Norman. “Call down to Kelly Hanson’s room and have her send Elijah Cummings to the office.”

  Elaine flicked the intercom and made the call.

  “Thank you, Ms. Sperry,” said Norman seconds before the bell rang, signaling the end of the period.

  Elijah sat across the large wooden desk from Norman once again. Norman thought about the words he’d use.

  Elijah finally broke the ice. “We’ve got to stop meeting like this.”

  Norman chuckled. It was hard for Norman to see Elijah, or any member of Nebulous as a regular person. “I think that’s the first time you haven’t been dead serious.”

  “I’m seventeen,” replied Elijah. “Serious is actually pretty difficult to pull off. Plus, you got me out of geometry.”

  “That reminds me. Do you really go to school here or is that just your cover?” asked Norman.

  “I’m seventeen,” said Elijah. “I’ve got to go to school somewhere.”

  “Tell me more about Nebulous,” said Norman, suddenly becoming more serious.

  “I only know so much. It’s one way we protect ourselves,” said Elijah shifting in his chair. He picked up a pen off Norman’s desk and began fidgeting with the cap.

  “What exactly do you do?” asked Norman.

  “That’s on a need to know basis, Mr. Bernard,” replied Elijah.

  “I need to know,” he said breaking out his teacher voice. Norman grew frustrated with all this coyness. He had Nymphs to protect. Enough of this.

  “I’m not sure,” replied Elijah, stalling. “This wasn’t part of the deal. I’m here as a liaison to you. That’s all I’m going to say.”

  “You know.” Norman raised an eyebrow. “I could just make you tell me. I’m pretty good at that.”

  “I’ve heard,” replied Elijah. He quickly stood up. “I’ve got to get going, Mr…”

  “Sit back down. I’m not going to glamor you.” Norman began to get annoyed by the teenager’s coyness.

  Elijah stopped and sat slowly down in the seat.

  “You’re going to tell me what I want to know, and you’re going to do it under full control of your will,” suggested Norman.

  “Why’s that?” said Elijah.

  “Because you’re going to get to tell Chip that you convinced me to join his group,” replied Norman.

  Elijah’s eyes widened. “Really?” he exclaimed. At that moment, he seemed more like a kid than he had since Norman had met him. Seventeen, indeed.

  “As long as you answer all my questions,” said Norman.

  “Done,” replied Elijah.

  Norman leaned forward. “Plus, there’s one other condition.”

  Elijah tilted his head skeptically. “What’s that?”

  Norman relaxed his shoulders and sat back in his chair, relieving the intensity of the moment. “We’ll get to that soon enough.” He put his hands behind his head. “Question number one: What exactly does Nebulous do?”

  “We...” Elijah eyes wandered in debate. “We observe.”

  “Observe who?” asked Norman.

  “Lately, mostly vampires,” replied Elijah.

  Norman didn’t need special abilities to see he was holding back. “That’s not all, though. Naseem had some pretty fancy tech. I’d never seen anything like it before. Bullets that glowed sunlight. That grenade that came through our window.”

  “Centuries of observation can bear certain fruits. We’ve discovered ways to capture the sun’s energy and…repurpose it.”

  “Like a solar cell,” asked Norman.

  Elijah shook his head. “Sort of. A solar cell converts solar energy to electricity. We preserve the solar energy and use it.”

  “Interesting,” replied Norman. “And very effective.” Nebulous had clearly prepared themselves to fight vampires. “How many of you are there?”

 
; “I don’t know,” said Elijah. “None of us do.”

  “Who leads the group?” snapped Norman, quickly. These weren't answers.

  “No one as far as I know,” replied Elijah.

  Norman grew tired of this runaround. “How long has Nebulous been around?”

  “How long have you?” said Elijah in reply.

  “How is it I have never heard of you in the last one hundred sixty years but in the last few months I’ve met two?” Norman jabbed two fingers in the air.

  Now Elijah became more casual. Perhaps he believed that he, who had all the knowledge in this situation, actually had the upper hand. Wait until Norman revealed his final condition.

  “You’ve become interesting to us,” replied Elijah in response to Norman’s last question. “When can I bring you down to see Chip. He’ll be eager to get started with you.”

  “Slow down there, kid. Soon enough,” said Norman. “First. I lost one of my Nymphs yesterday.”

  Elijah became somber. “Yes. Keon. I knew him.”

  This kid's evasion was worse than useless, it was dangerous. Norman was done with him. He shot up from his seat. “I’m not letting that happen again.” He stared at Elijah, projecting his authority like a volley of arrows. “Do you have weapons that work against those…jacked Corps. V’s?”

  Elijah’s confidence faded from his face. He answered Norman with silence.

  Ah. Exactly as I thought. “Here’s my final condition.” Norman’s tone became commanding. “You will supply the Nymphs with your weapons and train them in their use. In return, I’ll join your fight in whatever capacity you and Chip wish.”

  Elijah’s forehead betrayed a bead of sweat. It formed near his hairline and slid slowly down the left side of his face. “I can’t promise that. I’m not authorized. I don’t even…”

  “You’re going to make the deal,” said Norman narrowing his eyes.

  Elijah looked away, refusing to make eye contact. “They trained me never to look a vampire in the eye.”

  “Hmmm,” said Norman. “Then they need to keep observing. The eyes have nothing to do with it.” Norman’s smooth tendrils lashed out and grasped the arcs of Elijah’s will. His focus at once narrowed and expanded. Elijah was beyond escape. “You mentioned authorization. Take out your cell phone. Let’s make a call, shall we?”

  7

  Toys

  Norman and his Nymphs stood in the vast parking lot of what used to be a huge plumbing supply company warehouse and contractor store. It had gone under three recessions ago. Now weeds sprouted tall between cracks in the tarmac.

  “The night sounds are weird out here,” said Darius. “No buses, no horns, no yelling, no music from cars. Just that squeaking sound. It sounds dead here.”

  Norman almost laughed out loud. “That’s actually what life sounds like. We’ve just covered it up with pavement in the city.”

  “Sound’s dead to me,” said Tyreese.

  “Why did we have to come out here?” asked Felicia.

  Before Norman could answer he heard the distant sound of a car engine and tires rumbling along the unmaintained access road. One second later, the rest of the group heard and peered down the parking lot.

  A glow appeared at the other side as the sound grew louder. Finally, two headlights shone through the broken entrance gate. The two lights drove into the lot and slowly approached the group. Ten feet from where they stood, the car stopped. The engine cut out but the lights remained on.

  “I can’t see with those lights in my eyes,” said Declan, bringing his arm up to shade his face.

  “I think that’s the idea,” replied Norman. I hope. Norman put himself between his Nymphs and the car.

  The driver’s door opened and two black Converse All stars emerged and planted themselves on the ground. Elijah stood and shut the door behind him.

  “That kid,” said Tyreese. “Why’s he always showing up when things get weird?”

  “He’s…a friend to our kind,” said Norman. “For now.”

  Elijah approached the group and stood in front of Norman. “Mr. Bernard. I can’t say I approve of your techniques, but we’re here and we’ve got what you asked for.”

  “We?” said Norman.

  “We are always alone, but none of us ever act alone,” replied Elijah. “Let’s get started.” He turned back to his car.

  Before he took one step, though, Norman detected sounds on the far side of the parking lot, like a car’s wheels on pavement but much quieter, smaller. “Shhh…” he hissed.

  The others strained to hear. Elijah looked from face to face, unable to perceive the subtle sounds of the world as a vampire could.

  “I hear it, too,” whispered Tyreese.

  “What is it?” asked Felicia.

  Declan crinkled his eye brows. “It’s a bike.”

  They all looked at him. He shifted his head from left to right, surprised by the unexpected attention. “I rode one just about every day since I could stand. It’s a bike. Don’t you have a bike?”

  Norman raised an eyebrow when he realized the student was correct. A bike approached them in the darkness. The headlights bright in their eyes prevented them from seeing who pedaled it. Norman relaxed as he weighed the possibility of any significant attack deriving from an individual on a bike.

  The rider finally stopped just behind the car. Norman heard a kickstand flick down.

  “Hey! I’m here! You guys miss me?” shouted a familiar voice from behind the car.

  The rest of the class abandoned their fight or flight posture as they, too, recognized the voice.

  Norman saw a silhouetted figure stride from behind the car. The quick sounds of boots on pavement propelled it forward.

  Matt Barnes threw his arms around Norman and grabbed him in a tight embrace. “Mr. Bernard! I am glad to see you.”

  Matt released him and stood back. Norman took a moment to take in the sight of his former student. They’d been through a lot together, and Norman had wondered what had become of him. “Matt. Where have you been?” Norman looked over at Elijah. “And what are you doing with him?” Before an answer came, Norman noticed something dangling around Matt’s neck. It was a simple gold chain supporting a pendant that consisted of a five-pointed star surrounding an eye.

  Norman took a step back. “You’re with them?” He had liked Naseem and he liked Elijah, too. It also did not escape him that Naseem had saved his life, and Elijah might be doing the same right now. Yet, he had to wonder about the secrecy. And their allegiances seemed ephemeral. But Norman was not one to judge about withholding allegiance. These times, though, seemed desperate enough to demand a declaration one way or another.

  “We chose him,” said Elijah. “He fit the profile.”

  Norman’s mind instantly began calculating what this profile might be based on his knowledge of Matt. Smart. Disaffected. Betrayed by a father and distrusting of authority. Tech savvy. Open to ideas outside the dominant paradigm. It occurred to Norman that this might also be the profile for NSA cyber warriors. However, Matt had one additional qualification: experience with vampires. “Of course,” said Norman.

  “Hi, Matt,” said Declan raising his hand and waving. Felicia rolled her eyes. Norman actually thought it was kind of cute. Sometimes Declan was like a really large four-year-old.

  Matt smiled, “What’s up Dec?”

  Elijah seemed annoyed. “Matt, we’ve got work to do.”

  Matt looked over at Elijah and wrinkled his forehead in confusion “I thought we were never supposed to meet?”

  “We’re not supposed to arm irregulars either, but here we are,” replied Elijah.

  This last statement piqued Norman’s curiosity. “What’s an irregular?”

  “Mr. Bernard,” answered Matt. “Let’s just say vampires and werewolves aren’t the weirdest things out there.”

  “Matt will be joining me as liaison from now on. His training has been cut short to bring him here today. So, he’ll be my apprentice. We f
igure your already established relationship makes him a perfect candidate for this assignment. When he’s ready, I’ll move on…assuming we’re not all dead.” His discomfort with the arrangement showed in his staccato speech. “Matt, there’s a large duffel in the back seat. Please bring it out so we can share its contents with your friends.”

  “Oh, right,” said Matt. He ran back to the car and pulled out the duffel. He heaved it around to the front of the car and dropped it onto the ground in front of the headlights. Bending, he unzipped the bag and stood back.

  “It’s time for you each to choose. It’s best to focus on one weapon.” Elijah took a long black case out of the bag and placed it on the ground. Snapping the latches, he opened it lengthwise like a guitar case. Inside was a samurai sword, brown with a matte finish unlike the shiny swords they’d all seen in movies.

  “We call this Cherry Popper,” said Elijah. “It’s a mixture of steel and cherry wood fibers. One stab into a vampire’s chest and ‘pop’ goes his heart. Combining molten iron and wood without burning the wood is quite an art. But the blade is sharper than a wooden sword could ever be, and it stays sharp longer.”

  The group remained silent.

  “It’s kind of old school, though,” said Elijah.

  Declan chimed in, “Cindy, you should totally take that one.”

  Cindy’s face instantly tightened to a combination of annoyance and anger. “Why?”

  Declan seemed taken aback by Cindy’s reaction. “You know. Cuz…”

  “Cuz I’m Asian?” Cindy growled. “That’s racist.”

  Declan turned red, “I just thought that….you know…because of your culture…” Declan was clearly trying to apply some of the diversity lessons he’d been exposed to in school and failing badly.