Vampire$ - Page 11/33

 

Cat was having a very weird day.

He sat there in the bishop's office between Father Adam and Jack and decided their new client, who was a Mrs. Tammy Hughes and who was also the mayor of Cleburne, Texas, was just a little too cheerful for this tale she had to tell.

And that was pretty weird.

Then there was the tale itself, all about half-formed goons (they couldn't be full vampires yet from her peeling-cheek description) stomping around the downtown Cleburne square chewing on people. The local police had tried to help, emptying magnum after magnum into those decomposing husks, and the goons had noticed it - roaring and spinning in pain - but had not stopped feeding. The only injuries were to the victims, who were dragged brutally away into an abandoned department store warehouse across from the county courthouse. The cops had cordoned the area off.

And that was pretty weird, too. Cat had never heard of 'em being that obvious before. And besides, where was the master vampire during all of this? It was almost as if they were trying to advertise.

Naw. That was too weird.

And then of course there was Jack, who looked like hell and acted worse. Cat thought he hadn't slept the night before, and knew damn well something was bothering him, but when he tried to get to it, Jack told him to leave him alone.

And that was weirdest of all.

Cat glanced casually to his side and eyed Jack once more. He really looks awful sitting there with his neck crammed down in his shoulders and his throat pulsing hard. He looks like... I dunno. Like he's...

Scared.

Holy shit! What's going down here?

All Adam felt was admiration at Jack's full and complete concentration. He didn't read Jack's fear, couldn't have through the haze of his own.

Here I go at last, he thought.

Jack listened to the rest and then got them out of there and back to the suite at the Adolphus. He didn't speak during the drive and didn't answer questions. He glanced occasionally at the rest of the team while Cat relayed what had happened in the bishop's office but he looked away when they looked back.

It was a trap. And he didn't know how to tell them. He didn't know what to do. He didn't...

He didn't know.

He excused himself about the time they got down to making plans for the job in Cleburne the next morning. He couldn't think, couldn't focus, couldn't face them. He went to the bathroom and closed the door and lit a cigarette and just sat there and feared.

Three years at this. Three years and eighteen straight pits wiped clean. All of it dangerous. All of it bloody. All of it awful. And certain death hanging around all along.

But now it's not a matter of blowing up buildings in broad daylight. Now it's a matter of staying alive through the next night anywhere in the world.

Because if they know me, they can find me.

Shit.

And if they know me and find me they can set me up tn Cleburne, Texas, and that's exactly what they've done and there's not one thing in the world I can do about it.

Because we still have to go. It's what we do. It's where the vampires are.

I wonder if -

There was a tap-tap-tap on the bathroom door and be heard Cat's voice saying it was the mayor on the phone and did Jack want to take the call? Jack frowned. Hell, he didn't even know the mayor. What was his name? Goldblatt, or something? And then he realized the mayor Cat meant. Her, that Cleburne mayor. Calling him. Knowing where to call.

He got up and dropped his cigarette in the bowl and flushed it because he didn't want the rest of them to know he was only in there to be a chickenshit and then he strolled into the main living room of the suite with all eyes on him and picked up the receiver.

"Yes?"

"Mr. Crow?" asked that same too-country voice.

"Yes."

"Mr. Crow, I hate to disturb you at home. Or at your hotel, I mean. Or do you live there?"

So. You wanna know where I live do you?

"I live here."

"Oh. Well, I should think you'd want to live with the rest of your employees. Your team, is it?"

"We all live here."

"I see."

"Miz Hughes, did you call for a reason?"

"Oh, yes. It's about your check for $50,000..."

"What about it? I told you we don't work without half up front."

"Oh, I know, I know. I understand. I wasn't complaining. You'll get your check tonight as we agreed."

"Then what's the point?"

"Well, I just thought that I could bring it over instead of using a messenger."

"Okay. Come on over."

"Oh. Well, I couldn't do it right now. I've got some... well, some shopping to do in town first. I so rarely get to come to Dallas. But being a man I don't think you'd understand. Anyway, I just wondered if you were going to be there when I finished so I could give you the check personally."

"When would that be?"

"Oh, I don't know. About nine o'clock?"

"Would that be all right?"

What Jack wanted to say was:

Let's get this straight, bitch. First you wanna know where we're gonna be after sundown because, while there are ghouls slaughtering your citizens in your courthouse square every night, you're gonna take the time to pick up some pantyhose?

Right.

But what he said was: "We'll be here," and the both of them hung up with the mayor adding how anxious she was to meet the rest of the team.

There was a mirror on the wall over the table holding the phone and Jack Crow stared at his reflection in it, stared at it good and hard until some things fell away and some others came clear to him again.

"Asshole," he whispered angrily at the face.

It was time to be a leader. So do some leader-type shit for a change, you whining bastard!

Rock and roll!

He spun around and there they all were, his team, watching and waiting and wondering what was going on.

He didn't tell them - this was his burden, godammit!

He gave them orders instead.

Get out. Get all the stuff you can carry easily and walk out of the hotel. Don't check out or in any way hint that you're not coming back soon. Women, take the limo.

Gents, I want you all to...

"Carl? What's the range on that detector? Can you put the sensor in one spot and have it ring or whatever someplace else?"

Carl shrugged. "If it's not too far."

"How about from this room to a truck parked down on the street?"

"Sure. I... Hey! What's going on?"

"Shaddup. Annabelle, take Davette and go to the Seven-Eleven on, I dunno, Mockingbird and Central, and get the number of the last pay phone in the row and start calling it after sundown every half hour. Don't stop moving except to do that. Adam? You go with them. Make sure they call from a different spot each time. In fact, you do the calling. Don't let them outta the car and don't let the driver stop the motor. You hear?"

Adam nodded. "Yessir."

"All right. Let's go, folks. Now. The rest of us have got weapons to collect."

No one moved. Then Annabelle stood up and faced him.

"Jack, I want to know what's going on!" Her voice sounded frightened.

Jack regarded her calmly. "I don't blame you. Get moving."

"But I..."

"Woman! This is not a debate! Move!"

They moved.

At a quarter to nine their Chevy Suburban slid silently to the downtown curb. Cat was at the wheel. Jack sat beside him in the front seat, the crossbow between them. In the back seat Carl sat fiddling with his gadget.

Jack rolled his window down and began to chain-smoke and told the others to shut the fuck up until he said otherwise. They shut up.

At 8:54, on the dot, the detector went off like a fire bell. Carl and Cat jumped about a foot apiece. Jack just nodded to himself, a grim smile on his face.

"What," asked Cat, staring up at the hotel, "does all this mean?"

Jack Crow took his eyes from the building and faced him.

"Rock and roll. Same as always. Only more so. Hit it."

They made their connection at the phone outside the Seven-Eleven. Crow told Adam where to meet them, hung up, got back into the Suburban, and ordered Cat to drive to the Antwar Saloon.

Cat did so. But nervously, with difficulty. For he found it hard to take his eyes from Jack Crow, whose silently roaring presence filled the cab.

Jack stomped through the saloon doors with Cat and Carl trailing him. He hushed the waitress who tried to bar their ascent to Felix's apartment. They found him at his desk beside the widow overlooking the bar. He had seen them coming.

Now he rose, frowning. "Look, Crow. I - "

"Cut the shit, Felix!" snapped Crow, striding toward him.

"But I - "

Jack's fist slamming onto the desktop sounded like a thunderclap. It made the lamp jump.

"I said cut the shit! There's no time!"

And it was suddenly very quiet. Slowly, Crow sat down in the visitor's chair. Just as slowly, Felix sat down in his own. They both lit cigarettes.

Then Jack leaned forward and told Felix what was what. In a calm, deliberate tone he explained about having to go to Cleburne, Texas, in the morning to fight vampires who not only knew they were coming but had arranged the trap just for them. Cat and Carl, standing by the door, exchanged pale glances.

"What do you mean it's a trap?" Cat interrupted.

Jack didn't bother to turn around. "Think back, Cherry. He called my name when he chased the truck."

Cat blinked, thought back, went suddenly more pale.

"My God," he whispered, almost to himself.

Felix listened without a sound, looking tight and grim and dark through the smoke, as Jack finished his monologue.

Jack was quiet for several seconds after he'd finished. Then he leaned backward in his chair and held out his hand. After a second Carl reached into a pocket and brought out a slim wooden box. Jack took the box without looking at Carl. He flipped the lid open and slid the box across the smooth desktop.

The silver bullets gleamed brightly in the light from the lamp.

"You still use a Browning nine-millimeter?" he asked gently.

Felix was staring at the bullets. He nodded. Then he looked up at Crow. "But I don't own one," he added hopefully.

Jack smiled. He snapped his fingers above his head. Cat stepped forward carrying a canvas bag. From inside he took and unwrapped from cloth three automatics and laid them heavily on the wood-grained desktop.

Then he stepped back.

Felix stared at the guns. He rose slowly, put his hands in his pockets, and stepped over to the window and gazed blankly down. No one spoke, watching him.

"I want fifty thousand," he said after a while.

"Done."

Felix nodded, looking miserable. Then he stepped to his phone and picked up the receiver. He pushed a button. Faintly, they heard the buzz of the phone at the bar below.

"Where? Felix. You'll have to take over for a couple of days. Yes. Yes... No, I'm fine. Fine."

Felix hung up. He stared through the window a few seconds longer. Then he lit a cigarette and put his free hand back in his pocket. When he turned back to them he said, "I meant it about the fifty grand."

Jack Crow's laugh was strong and loud and pure. He jumped to his feet and clapped his hands.

"I oughta charge you!" He stepped to the center of the room and raised his fist into the air. "Don't you feel it? You're about to go fight evil. Real live goddamned evil. The real stuff. You get to fight for the good side. How many people ever get a chance to do that?" He laughed again, strode to Felix, and shook his fist under his face. "Don't you feel it?"

Felix stared at him in amazement. He laughed shortly, shook his head.

Damned if I don't, he thought with astonishment. A little.

"Well, I do!" cried Cat from behind them. And he found himself grinning wildly. The Return of Jack Crow, he thought to himself, starring Jack Crow.

He turned to Carl.

"Rock and roll!"

Carl smiled crazily back. "Rock and roll," he echoed.

Felix peered incredulously at the other three. "I must be crazy!"

Jack laughed again. "You really think that?"

Felix didn't answer. But he really did think that. He shook his bead again. This time they didn't even need that girl, he thought.

And then he thought: I wonder what her name is?

He looked at Crow & Co., still bright and vibrant and ready.

I wonder if I'll live long enough to find out?