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The Day After (June)
Quietly nursing her
tea, Eliza watched the sleeping Sofye and smiled. She looked
peaceful - most of the time. The dreams must have been bad, but
they didn't last too long. Sit by her and hold her hand and she'd
calm down and drop off. Her head was still pounding, but that
wasn't surprising. She had a very close call and she'd been in no
shape to try such a stunt. She'd not been feeding properly, even
a vampire has to eat, and she was simply out of practice dealing with
opponents other than desert critters. Her self-imposed exile had
taken a toll on her, emotionally and physically, even though it had
helped her focus on something than the guilt she'd been feeling.
It had been a long day. She'd slept most of it
but Sofye kept waking her and making her eat almost raw and very bloody
steak. They hadn't talked much. She'd spent most of her
time in a very restless sleep and when she finally did awaken, Sofye
had been sound asleep, leaving Eliza to wonder exactly what she
knew. As she thought about it, the "Been there, done that,"
comment was rather disturbing, not to mention that she'd gotten the
distinct feeling that Sofye knew far more that she was saying.
She'd been too preoccupied with her own problems to really consider
Sofye's. They'd been very busy together and they'd had a lot of
fun shopping and generally doing girl things. Sofye was a strange
mixture of child and young woman and was very sweet, but now a month
had passed, and much as the idea appealed to her, she knew she couldn't
keep her. The only time she'd brought the subject of Sofye's home, she'd freaked out. How long could she keep avoiding it? Eliza sighed. Considering how Sofye had been acting today, she wondered just how much she knew about Eliza's condition. She had seen a lot. Too much. But Eliza wasn't prepared to run and abandon her. But she was only thirteen! "Damn, this mess." And there was still the problem of her health. She had only marginally survived in the desert, and that was because there had been no real conflict. Now, back among the "living," there were tasks of survival. How was she supposed to hunt and feed when Sofye was around to see the preparations and results? She sighed and considered how life was never simple! It was nine P.M. and Sofye finally had awakened. She'd slept all day, but then she'd been up most of the night sitting by Eliza and till well past noon, stuffing steak into to every hour or so. If she hadn't done that, Eliza could have gone into a crisis and been very ill for a very long time. Crisis was something to be really avoided . . . REALLY avoided. It didn't kill, but it could send a vampire into years of intense suffering and semiconsciousness. If they got labeled insane, they could end up weakened and drugged in an institution, trapped in their own nonfeeding crises hell for years. Now, she had to feed, and feed properly. What had just happened to her was a wake up call that she was in grave jeopardy, and Sofye's presence was not making it any easier for her. She felt a pang of intense loneliness and sighed. She'd become rather fond of Sofye, but shaking her head, realized there was no way she could keep her. Practically and legally there were real problems here. Sofye liked lemonade. She drank it all the time. Sitting at the table across from Eliza, she sat the sweating glass in a saucer and took a sip. They stared at each other, neither being really sure of what to say. "I...." they both started. "You . . . " they both said. Eliza grinned and raised her hand. Sofye, nodded and pointed to her. Eliza's smile faded "You know, we've got to get you back home." She was astounded by what happened next. Sofye stood up and went ridged. She started trembling and turned and ran to the bed, threw herself face down and began sobbing like her heart was breaking. Eliza ran over an kneeled next to the bed and put her arms around Sofye. Sofye jerked and tried to withdraw, but Eliza simply moved with her. "What's wrong Sweetheart? Come on, you can tell me." Sofye continued to sob but she was no longer trying to avoid Eliza's arms. "You can tell me anything, you know that," Eliza whispered into her ear. "You know I love you." Sofye turned toward Eliza and with wide, tear filled eyes said, "If you really love me, you can't make me go back. You just can't!" Eliza could feel tears starting herself. She was very sensitive to another's emotion, a quality that helped her to survive and one she'd developed well. "Why don't you want to go back, Sweetie? Tell me." Sofye sniffed and wiped her eyes. "I'll tell you if you tell me," she gulped. Eliza felt a thrill, like an electric shock, course through her body. "Tell you . . . what," she stammered. Sofye sat up and said haughtily, "Do you think I'm stupid? I am thirteen, you know. I do have eyes. I have read books." The moon was up and it was only two days past full and Eliza was stressed. Sofye reached over and put her finger in Eliza's mouth. "You have FANGS!" Eliza jerked and covered her mouth with her hand, pushing Sofye's hand way. Gaining control, she said guiltily, "DO NOT!" "Do too, and I know you can control it. You are very good at controlling it. You were so weak and so sick." She held out her arm so Eliza could see the two marks. "I let you, you know. I let you." She smiled. "My blood kept you alive." Tears leaked down her face again. "Oh my," Eliza breathed, grabbing Sofye and hugging her tight enough to make her squeak. Eliza released her and took her head in her hands. Staring into her eyes, she whispered, "Ask. I'll answer you." Sofye sat up straighter and thought seriously about what to ask. "Why didn't you tell me the first time?" "First time what?" Eliza asked. "The first night you brought me home, or the next day. Guess I was sort of out of it that first night." Eliza smiled. "Yes you were sort of out of it, and I didn't tell you because I had no idea you'd be here so long. I don't go around blabbing this to everyone I meet, you know." Sofye nodded, apparently satisfied with that answer. "What happened the other night? And I want details." Eliza crinkled her forehead and shuddered. She tried think back, but her mind recoiled from it. She felt a sharp pain in her groin. She grunted and doubled over. "I think I'd rather not talk that," she wheezed through the pain. Realizing, that for all practical purposes, her mind was blank for that period of time she said, "In fact, I don't think I can tell you. Sofye nodded wisely. "I believe you, but we can't leave it at that, you know. We will have to get into it." Eliza started to protest but Sofye continued on. "Will you live forever?" Eliza grinned. At least she could address this one. "I think the answer to that one is no, but I have known some that were over 1500 years old. While that's not forever, it sure is a damn long time!" Sofye nodded. "Can you be killed?" Eliza smiled. "Oh yes!!!! But it's not easy.... It takes a lot, but it can be done. A lot of the legends are close, but most of them are not really accurate. I can go out in the sun, it really hurts my eyes and I can get a sun burn that you wouldn't believe. I don't know if full prolonged exposure would kill me or not, and I don't want to find out." Sofye nodded. She found all that she was hearing sensible and not as nearly frightening as she'd been afraid it might be. "Ok" she sighed. "Now for the big one. Do you like it and do you like killing and eating people." Eliza frowned and chewed on her lip. "Yes," she said. "I like it. It's so, so, exciting and there is so much to learn and do." She sobered. "We all have to kill to eat. A lion would kill and eat you in a heart beat. No, I don't like killing to live, but what choice do I have. I try to not kill when I can and I usually don't, but, you know, there are times when I do and those times I not only like it, I LOVE it. I'm doing my part to make this world a better place. And don't bother to say it. Yes, I have elected myself jury, judge and executioner. My condition makes that a necessity." Eliza stopped, breathing hard, wondering how Sofye would react. Sofye smiled. "Wow," she said, "you are for real! I love it. That is so cool!" Eliza smiled. "Ok, it's my turn. Why don't you want to go back home?" Sofye sat there, stunned. "Well," Eliza prompted. "I'm thinking!" Eliza sighed and waited. Sofye said in a small voice, "They hurt me." Eliza waited but no more seemed to be coming. "They hurt you how?" "I don't want to talk about it." "Look, we agreed. I tell you, you tell me. This is not negotiable," Eliza shot back. "Talk." She waited. "TALK!" she insisted. Sofye finally got nerve enough to reply. "They hurt me like they hurt you." Eliza felt a chill course over her body. For a brief instant she could see herself naked and bloody, begging them to stop hurting her. Trying to escape, but too weak from the spike in her throat and unable to really make any sound but incomprehensible gurgling noises. Pain coursed through her body with this "memory" and then it shifted. She could see Sofye where she had been. She was so tiny, so helpless and her screams were a wound in the fabric of reality. Eliza felt a sob filling her throat and her eyes were filled with tears. "Oh," she whispered grabbing Sofye, hugging her to her breast as if she never wanted to let her go. The subject of Sofye leaving had been dropped for the moment, but Eliza knew she had to do something. She'd gone to the public library and sent an email to Christa explaining the situation and asking for help. She had no idea what Christa could do, but at least Christa had been part of the world for the past few years. She hadn't. The only people she knew to talk to were Sofye and the drummer, Max, at the Rusty Nail, and she sure didn't want to attract any undue attention to herself. That simply would not be wise. Sofye had begun agitating her to get out and "eat." Eliza was hesitating but she knew she had to. She had finally agreed that she would and tonight was going to be the night. Eliza sighed. If that little witch wanted to come with her, that would be too much! Eliza grinned. She wouldn't put it past her and she be interested to see what Sofye did. "Oh, this one is nice," Sofye gushed, handing Eliza a white blouse. "You'll look super in this." Eliza smiled. "There's one little problem. White shows stains." Eliza had to grin as a look of realization came over Sofye. "Oh. . ." She took the white blouse and put it back in the closet and selected a dark, very dark blue blouse. "I guess this might be better," she said softly, a thoughtful look on her face. Eliza smiled an took the blouse. She realized that she was feeling a tingling rush of excitement starting and it wasn't even the full moon. It was warm, tonight. People were out and moving, enjoying the hint of spring in the air. The moon was waning but a quiver in her belly whenever she thought about what she was going to do made her realize how out of routine she was. Some hunted almost every night, even if they didn't actually feed every hunt. The hunt, the chase, the stalk, the decision: it was like a ballet, choreographed, scripted, played out and fini. It was getting late. The waning moon was dipping below the horizon and the section of town she was in was seedy and not well lit. This type of area was her favorite hunting grounds. Those here, at this hour, were often good targets. Often parasites and hunters in their own right, she didn't mind taking much of their life force, or even their lives, and she never minded taking their money. She'd only take cash. That could not be traced. She stopped and held her breath to hear better. It was probably a couple of blocks away, but she could hear low angry voices. Male and female. She glided quickly to the area she'd identified. It was the entrance to a very dark alley where a dim light showed at the end. "You bitch," she heard as a hoarse whisper. "I tell you to get out and bring me some money and this is what you show me?" Eliza saw his hand rise and heard the blow fall. The woman went to her knees and covered her face with her hands, but didn't say anything or try to protect herself. The man raised his right hand to strike again. Eliza could see a glint of light from a large gold ring on his finger. Swiftly but silently moving behind him, she grabbed his right wrist with her right hand. The downward force of the blow pulled her forward, but she was prepared and braced herself with her left hand on his shoulder. Even though she was roughly pulled forward, she maintained her footing and stopped the blow instantly. He spun, freeing his wrist with a circular motion and dropped to a boxers crouch, hands up, protecting is head and prepared to block in any direction. "Ass hole," she hissed. "You like hitting women." She glared at the hulking figure, at least 6'4" and 240 pounds. She saw a bright light and felt damp cement under her hands. Her mouth was bleeding and blood was leaking into her right eye. She was flat on her back, staring blankly up at the stars. "Yea, bitch, I do. Get up and I'll knock your sweet ass down again. You're gonna be begging me to be nice before we're done here!" He laughed and stood over her. Eliza shook her head and spat blood. "Damn! He hit hard and quick!" She'd not even seen it coming. She could feel the gash over her eye healing already, but her mouth hurt, even though it was healing. Much more alert after this humiliating experience, she scrabbled back and started to get to her feet. This time was ready. She executed a forearm block right at his ankle to block the kicked aimed at her head. From the pain in her arm, she figured her forearm was fractured. No problem. She still had the use of her arm and it would heal shortly. "God Damn!" he bellowed. The ankle is not as strong as the bones in the forearm. Her block, sufficient to crack concrete blocks, had done far more damage to him than it had to her. Gingerly supporting most of his weight on his left foot, he reached into his jacket and pulled a pistol. Before he could aim or fire, his eyes widened, his hand opened, the gun clattered to the ground and he slumped to his knees. "BASTARD!" The woman he'd been hitting, screamed. "You ain't gonna hurt me or anyone else ever again." She kicked the prone body with the knife protruding from its back. "Die you bastard. Die!" Eliza realized the woman had gotten up during their altercation and had stabbed him in the back. Too afraid to protect herself, she had made the effort to help Eliza who was helping her. "Bastard," she hissed, again dropping to her knees sobbing with emotion. Eliza took it all in, considering the options available. She quickly pulled the knife from his back and slashed his throat. Closing the knife, she handed it to the woman. "Get out of here. Get out and get out of town. Don't even look back." She looked down and saw the ring with a huge diamond on his hand. She pulled it off and reached into one of his pockets, and as she suspected, found wads of money. "Here, take this and get moving," She said, handing the woman a hand full of money and the ring. "Now get!" The woman looked and the strange scene, took the ring and money, turned and ran as if banshees were after her. Eliza, kneeled, pressed her lips to the gaping wound in his throat and greedily drank. This wasn't exactly the way she'd planned to feed, but how many times do things actually go as planned. She pressed on his chest, over the heart, to assist the flow of the blood. Once they were dead, it was hard to drink. She'd have much rather done it her way. She liked the way they shuddered and gave themselves to it, and when she wanted it that way, they ended up just as dead. She was careful not to leave any fang marks. She wanted this one too look like exactly what it was, the murder of a pimp in a seedy alley. "Tell me! Tell me! Tell me!" implored Sofye as Eliza washed her bloody clothing in the sink. She was still on a feeding high and an adrenaline rush. She was flushed and buzzing, excited and feeling very good. She'd feed twice now in a few days and she was getting back to her old self. Living at the edge of crisis was no way to live. She was going to feed much more regularly now. "Simmer down," she grinned. "I'll fill you in, but give me a break." "You know, that is one of the ugliest black eyes I've ever seen. Did a truck hit you? I thought vampires couldn't get hurt that way." Sofye gushed. Eliza grinned. "It felt like a truck and we most certainly can get hurt, but we heal very quickly when we eat properly. (Hint, hint)," she whispered. Sofye made a face but didn't say anything. "You could tell me, you know." Eliza gave her a quick summary of what had happened, not going into any gory details. "Oh, did he look surprised when the slut stabbed him? Did he? Did he scream? Did he? Oh, I bet that really hurt. When she kicked him, did . . . " Sofye rapid fired questions at her, not giving her a chance to even take a breath, let alone answer. "Hold on!" Eliza exclaimed. I'm willing to try to answer reasonable questions, but you do have to give me a chance to answer and I'm not necessarily answer all of them. I am NOT going to get too graphic! You are 13 and I will keep it PG-13! You got that?" "Awww . . . " Sofye pouted. "You can tell me. I'm the daughter that loves you, remember?" Eliza hesitated and as she felt a thrill of some unidentifiable emotion course through her. Daughter. That felt weird. "You can tell me, you know, so tell me!" Sofye insisted. "What do you want me to tell," Eliza insisted? "Ask one question and give me a chance to answer," she responded smiling. Detective Sam Burns couldn't shake it. There was something not right here. Jakko was not known to be a push over and it was not adding up. He had a broken ankle, he'd been stabbed in the back and had his throat slashed. The meat wagon had carted the body off to the coroner's office, so he satisfied his urge to move by pacing around the chalk outline. "What's wrong with this picture," he mused. "What am I missing?" He bent and examined the blood stain on the concrete. There was a heavy splash of blood about three feet back. That was from the kidney wound, he was betting. The back wound was probably the first wound. If you've cut a man's throat, there isn't much sense in back stabbing him. "But why cut his throat," he wondered. "What am I missing?" And where was Jakko's gun? And where was the knife? Someone was covering something up. Yes, a murder, obviously, but what else? He squatted and stared at the chalk outline. There it was. He knew he'd figure out what was wrong. All of the blood was outside of the chalk outline. The throat wound, the largest and most severe seemed to have not bled. Now that was strange - unless he'd been dead for some time, but then there'd be more blood at the first site, but why move him and then cut his throat and where were his gun and the knife? "Should I waste my time on this," he wondered. "Frankly, I'm glad the scumbag is dead and whoever wasted him should get a medal." He chuckled. "Wouldn't it be poetic justice if one of his 'girls' killed him? Now that would be justice!" He grinned. "If that were the case, I might just have to look the other way." Sam was not the only one wondering and thinking that something strange was going on. Dr. Walters was scratching his head and trying to make sense of the condition of the body. The broken ankle was the first wound. Swelling and bruising clearly indicated that was a pre-death injury. The kidney stab was most likely the cause of death. There was blood on the clothing at the wound site and significant internal bleeding. What was odd was the lack of blood around the slashed throat. The condition of the wound indicated that it was done at or near time of the first injury, but there was no sign of bleeding. In fact, he could swear the body had been "bled out," drained of most of the blood volume. He'd only seen one body bled out like that, but the body had been mutilated and hung over an open grave. That had been several months ago at Baynard's Cemetery. They'd never solved that one, but this one was different. There was no mutilation per se, just some very strange data. The broken ankle was odd. He'd ask for the officers to search for the pipe or stick that had been used to do that. Maybe there'd be some finger prints on it. There had to be something that caused that much damage to his leg. He did not get that tripping over a step! Too much damage was done. It takes a lot to break bones like that. They had been crushed, as if he'd been hit by a base ball bat. He looked at the throat wound again. Squinting, he bent down to see better. Adjusting the light, he frowned. Taking a swab, he carefully took a sample of a red smear that was not blood from Jakko's throat. The thought that it could be lipstick crossed his mind, but he rejected it almost instantly. Although . . . That wound was almost clean enough to have been licked . . . No! He shook his head. "Don't even go there," he told himself. "You can't let this job get to you." He jotted down his questions and findings. Entering the data into his terminal, he flagged it for Detective Burns. Sam would be pleased to have such a quick turnaround. He stood, stretched the kinks out of his back and trundled the body into a meat locker. The drawer slid easily and shut with a muffled clank that had such a firm finality to it that as eerie. "Another boring day at the office," he thought as he turned the lights off and headed for his apartment. |