Authors: Brandon Massey
He did, however, store his .357 Magnum in the glove
compartment.
He drove by Belinda Moss's home and picked her up. He
had asked her to prepare a picnic lunch for them. He had
beer and soda in a cooler in the back.
Belinda Moss did not fit the narrow image of beauty that
was promoted on music videos, trendy TV shows, and magazine covers. She was a dark-skinned, full-figured woman
with wide hips, and she stood barely over five feet tall. But
to Jackson, she was gorgeous. He found her full lips erotic
(and she was a heck of a kisser), and gazing into her dreamy
brown eyes made him lose track of time.
They had been dating for five months. Like him, Belinda
had lost her spouse, though she did not have any children. They had known each other for their entire lives, both of
them having grown up in Mason's Corner, and with her being
the town librarian and involved in various affairs in the town,
their paths had crossed often. In spite of how well they knew
each other, Jackson often felt strange dating her, as though
he were living the life of someone else. After Paulette died,
he'd never thought he'd enjoy a meaningful relationship with
another woman.
But the loneliness of the widower's life had been too
much for him to bear. Even as he admitted that he yearned
for the companionship of a good woman, he kept his relationship with Belinda low-key, especially around Jahlil. Jahlil
knew he and Belinda were involved, but he was not aware of
the seriousness of the relationship. Jackson did not know
how to tell him, either. Jahlil would interpret Jackson's relationship with Belinda as a betrayal of his mother.
Chalk it up as one more problem he had with his son. He
was taking a day off partly so he could get a break from
Jahlil, too. The boy could handle being home alone for one
night.
"You haven't told me where we're going, Van," Belinda
said.
"Away from this town," he said. "Somewhere quiet."
Belinda found a jazz station on the radio. The soothing
sounds of saxophones, trumpets, and pianos filled the cabin.
The day was humid, but gray. Earlier, the sun had disappeared behind the clouds and had not returned.
He took 1-55 south, to Enid Lake. There were other lakes
closer to town, but he wanted to go outside the immediate
area, where no one would recognize him. He'd booked a
night at a modest hotel, too. He didn't plan to go back home
until tomorrow.
As he drove, he and Belinda didn't talk much. He didn't
like to run his mouth all day anyway, and she respected his
tendency toward contemplative silence. She was a fine woman.
At Enid Lake, they found a picnic table in a quiet, shaded
area of the park, and unpacked the food and drinks. Belinda
had brought her portable boom box; a Barry White song
drifted from the speaker.
Jackson turned down the radio volume. Belinda looked at
him curiously.
"Want to tell you why I had to take this trip," Jackson
said. He put down his turkey and cheese sandwich. "I ain't
been myself lately. Had to get away for the day and figure
out what's gotten into me"
Belinda's eyes were kind.
"Van, you've had a lot to deal with lately, with all the
crime going on in town. You're stressed. Everyone needs to
take a break sometimes."
"Yeah, but that ain't it. Doc Bennett called this morning,
asked me about the young lady in the hospital that got bit by
the dog. I laid into Doc like I ain't laid into anyone in years.
It ain't my style to talk to folks like that."
"It really does sound like stress, honey. Don't be so hard
on yourself."
"Naw, naw. You know what it is?"
"What is it?"
He sipped his beer, looked away into the trees. "I'm
scared"
Belinda took his hand in hers.
"Doc Bennett's digging into something that's gonna explain why things ain't been right in the town," he said. "I can
feel it, right here in my gut. Don't know what he's gonna
find, but it scares the hell outta me to think about it."
"Doc Bennett's a sharp man," Belinda said. "And you're a
brave man. You can handle anything."
"But I was too scared to talk to him," Jackson said. He
shook his head. "Whatever's going on, I don't wanna know
about it. It ... it ain't my problem."
He couldn't believe what he had said. It was as though someone was working his mouth like a ventriloquist's dummy.
He did not feel as if he were in control of his own thoughts.
Lord, what was wrong with him?
"You only need some time to relax, honey," Belinda said.
She rubbed his hand. "Let's not talk about Mason's Corner
anymore"
He nodded and picked up his beer. He downed the rest of
the can in a few gulps. Then he popped the tab on another.
Belinda watched, her face creased with concern.
"I'm gonna get drunk, sweetheart," he said. "Just this
once. Can't stand to know what's going on in my head, gotta
shut it down. Gotta shut it down and get some damn peace"
Silently, Belinda reached across the table, plucked the
truck's keys from where they lay beside his arm, and dropped
them into her purse.
Shenice Stevens had awakened, but to Franklin, she
looked ill. Her skin had an unhealthy pallor, redness marred
her eyes, and her voice was raspy.
Including Shenice, there were five people in the hospital
room: Franklin, Ruby, the girl's mother, and her physician,
Dr. Dejean, a middle-aged Haitian man who had practiced
medicine in the town for many years.
Franklin explained his presence by telling them that he
was there to pick up his wife-a true statement, and enough
for them to leave him alone to observe. The physician and
mother were too focused on Shenice to worry much about
him.
"Can somebody close those blinds?" Shenice asked. "The
sunlight makes me itch." She squirmed under the covers.
Franklin pursed his lips, made a mental note to himself.
Ruby lowered the venetian blinds on both windows.
While Dr. Dejean checked the girl's heart rate, Shenice
complained of being hungry.
"I'm starving, Mama," she said. "When are y'all gonna
bring me something to eat?"
"In a moment, darling," Dr. Dejean said. He squinted.
"This can't be correct"
"What is it?" Mrs. Stevens said.
"Her heart rate. It's thirty-one beats per minute. That's the
heart rate of a patient who is virtually comatose. Obviously,
she is awake and alert."
Franklin frowned. He didn't like this at all.
"Please, bring me something to eat," Shenice said.
"Ruby," Dr. Dejean said with a sharp nod. Ruby hurried
out of the room.
Franklin moved to the foot of the bed. The doctor fussed
over the heart rate, taking it again, while Mrs. Stevens fussed
over the doctor.
Franklin focused on the girl. It was heartbreaking to look
at her. She was only a shell of the vivacious, pretty young
lady that he remembered seeing around town.
She has an aversion to sunlight, he thought. Unnaturally
low heart rate, red eyes, pale shin.
The data was persuasive. He decided to take a risk and
test his theory.
"Tell me about the man and the dogs," Franklin said to
her.
The doctor and Mrs. Stevens gaped at him as though he
had wandered out of a mental institution. But Shenice raised
her head, and her eyes shone with a strange glee.
"The man is the master's son," Shenice said. She spoke in
a monotone, as if repeating words she'd learned from rote
memorization. "The dogs are the master's servants"
Jesus Christ, Franklin thought. It's true.
Acceptance of the impossible washed over him, like cold
water.
Mrs. Stevens looked terrified. "Baby, what are you talking about?"
Shenice blinked. Her eyes became clouded and confused
again. "Umm, Mama, when can I eat?"
What is happening here? Franklin thought. She appears to
be vacillating between various states of consciousness, like
someone in a trance.
Dr. Dejean was looking at the girl oddly, too.
But Mrs. Stevens only cooed and patted her daughter's
hand. "Ruby's going to bring you something to eat, sweetheart. Just hold tight."
Ruby entered the room, carrying a plastic tray laden with
food and water.
"I couldn't find an orderly, so I brought her something to
eat myself," Ruby said.
Shenice's eyes blazed when she saw Ruby, but the girl did
not appear to notice the food. She began to sit up.
Gripped by a premonition of doom, Franklin snagged his
wife's arm before she approached the bed.
"Stay away from the girl, Ruby," he said. "All of you, get
away from her!"
They stared at Franklin as if debating whether to get away
from him, instead.
Shenice hissed.
Suddenly, her gaze was feral and deadly.
She drew back her lips from her teeth. Her fangs glistened like razor shards.
"Why are you fucking up my flow, Doc?" she said. "Who
sent you here?"
Franklin took a step backward. Shenice tore away the
bedsheet and sprang up. She stood on the mattress, her gown
billowing around her legs.
Shock had paralyzed the doctor, Mrs. Stevens, and Ruby.
But Franklin grabbed a knife off the food tray Ruby held.
"Stay right there, Shenice." He brandished the blade.
"Ruby, go get help. We've got to subdue the girl. Go now!"
Ruby dropped the tray and fled out of the room.
Shenice cackled. The sound made Franklin's blood run
cold.
"Can you inject her with something, Doctor?" Franklin
said in a shaky voice. "An anesthetic, anything?"
Dr. Dejean stuttered. "Uh ... let ... let me see" He moved
away from the bed, patting his pockets.
Mrs. Stevens reached for her daughter, hesitantly. Tears
rolled down her cheeks.
"No, get away from her!" Franklin said.
"My baby .. ." Mrs. Stevens cried.
Serpent-quick, the girl seized her mother by the neck and
lifted the woman in the air with one arm. The woman
gagged, her legs kicked. Shenice tossed her mother across
the room as if she weighed no more than a Barbie doll.
Screaming, the woman hurtled through the air and crashed
against the wall. She struck her head and blacked out.
She has superhuman strength, Franklin thought. With only
a knife to protect himself, he didn't stand a chance against
this fiend.
Dr. Dejean had finally pulled out a syringe. His voice
quavered. "Stay still, young lady. I only want to help you."
"You aren't pumping any more drugs into me," Shenice
said. She leapt off the bed. Dr. Dejean lunged at her, driving
the syringe forward like a lance, and she snared the doctor's
wrist. She squeezed. Bones cracked with a brittle snap, and
the doctor howled. The girl yanked the syringe out of his
hand, raised it high, and plunged the needle into the man's
eye. Wailing, he collapsed to the floor, the syringe protruding from his eyeball.
Sickened and terrified, Franklin looked to the door. What
was taking Ruby so long to get back with help? Even as he
raised the question, he answered it in his head: it was a
Sunday afternoon, and they were in a small hospital. There
were few people on duty at that hour. Perhaps not enough
people to subdue this vampire. She possessed the strength of
several men.
That decided him. He took off toward the doorway.
But she was as fast as she was strong. Before he could get
out, she seized his arm and threw him. He slammed against
the wall, pain rattling through his shoulder, the knife spinning out of his fingers. He slid to the floor. But he did not
lose consciousness. He almost wished he had.
The vampire whammed the door shut and angled a chair
underneath the knob, effectively barricading the door against
easy entry.
Although it hurt to move, Franklin crawled to the knife,
grasped it once again.
"Please, don't hurt us anymore," he said. Was there a
trace of humanity left in her? Or had she succumbed completely to the inhuman urges?
"So hungry," she said. She hugged herself, digging her
nails into her flesh. Her body shook, as if she were experiencing a mild seizure. "Hungry ... didn't want to ... hurt
anyone ... so hungry."
Shouting voices, outside. Fists pounded against the door.
The knob twisted back and forth.
"We'll get help for you, Shenice," Franklin said. "Please,
lie on the bed. We'll feed you."
"Can't, can't, can't." Her head whipped back and forth, her
hair swinging in her eyes. "Must feed ... must feed ... need
blood. Oh, God"
She began to sob.
Franklin carefully got to his feet. He was not far away
from the door.
He could not allow her to bite him. That was his greatest
fear. He would rather let her kill him than allow her to bite
him.
Tears ran down the girl's face. She clenched her hair in
her fists and shrieked.
He ran to the door. He kicked away the chair, and it spun
away, turning end over end.
He wrenched the knob and flung open the door.
Behind him, Shenice screeched.
Eyes wide and frightened, Ruby and two male orderlies
retreated from the doorway.
Franklin dove outside the room, but Shenice's hands
hooked over his shoulders, like claws. He hit the floor on his
stomach, the girl attached to his back.
"Get her off me, get her off me, get her off me!"
Her breath hot against his cheek, her teeth plunged into
the side of his neck, like a double pinprick.
He howled.
The men wrestled the girl off him. But she dipped her
head and bit into the forearm of one of the men. The guy
shouted in pain, and both of the men lost their grip on
her.
Weeping, blood dripping from her chin, Shenice raced
down the hallway. The men chased after her, but she soon
vanished.
Franklin's puncture wound throbbed. Coldness pulsated
in his neck and inched through his bloodstream, as if ice
water had been injected into him.