Fatal Bargain Page 6

  “In that case,” said Lacey, “you will get absolutely nothing from us but silence, you dirtbag.”

  “Lacey!” hissed Randy. “Don’t call him names. It’ll make him angry.”

  Lacey stared at Randy incredulously. What possible difference could it make if the vampire was angry? His teeth were just as sharp.

  In the mournful voice of a school principal yearning to retire, the vampire explained that they had disregarded his directions. It really was time for them to begin their important decision.

  “Buzz off,” said Lacey. “Are you all right, Zach?”

  Zach sat up and brushed himself off. The tower room was quite light. The vampire was giving off the phosphorescence again. Zach looked around in a daze. He looked down at his fingers, which had been peeled away from the sill, and his legs, which had not been broken against the ground below.

  “You caught me,” he said to the vampire. “You saved my life.”

  The vampire said sympathetically, “You had an assignment to complete, as you recall. This is not homework. You may not skip it and average your grade. Tonight you will choose.”

  Zach closed his eyes. He had not closed his eyes when he was falling. But the knowledge that he had accomplished nothing, that he was still here, that he still faced one chance in six — it was too much to look at. So he closed his eyes. With his eyes still closed he said, “If you were going to save me, why did you peel my fingers away from the sill to start with?”

  The vampire was insulted. “I would never do a thing like that,” he said.

  “Then who did?” said Zach.

  “I don’t suppose anybody did,” said the vampire. “How would it have benefited your companions to do that? The sill was slick and you had a poor grip, that’s all. It was a poor plan to start with.”

  Roxanne stared at the vampire. She had seen him. With her very own eyes. She had watched him send Zach plunging to the ground.

  “Let us return to the primary consideration,” said the vampire.

  “No,” said Lacey. “Dry up and blow away.” She glared fiercely, as if she actually expected this third-grade curse to accomplish something. The vampire merely looked at her with more interest than he looked at the others, so Lacey quickly looked away again. She happened to look toward Randy.

  Poor Randy was losing his grip. Perhaps it was because he was the only boy who had not yet attempted escape. Perhaps he felt a manly duty to hurl himself in some outward direction, but there were none left.

  Randy was pulling things out of his pockets and fondling them like lucky charms. He had his keys in one hand; he had a Bic pen, which he continuously capped and uncapped; he had a disposable lighter, whose slick plastic side he stroked with his thumb; he had several quarters, which he tumbled from one palm to another.

  Bobby seemed marginally more aware than he had been, but he still wore a fogged and stunned look.

  Sherree was sitting in a little ball, hugging her knees to her chest, rocking back and forth.

  Roxanne appeared to be trying to scrape through the floor with her fingernails.

  Lacey was furious with the vampire. Who was he to do this to them? She whirled back to face him. When Lacey was angry, she screwed up her face so that all her features met in the center, wrinkled and sharp. “We do have things to discuss, actually,” said Lacey, glaring. “We will begin with your character. Or lack of character. I demand to know why you do terrible things like this to innocent people.”

  “I don’t do anything terrible.” He was affronted by the accusation.

  “It isn’t nice to kill people.”

  “This is nature,” explained the vampire. “Nature is built on the laws of birth and death. Predator and victim. Hawk and mouse.”

  The six were not happy with that metaphor. Even Bobby in his daze flinched. No one ever wants to be the victim or the mouse.

  “But I don’t kill anyone, if you need details,” said the vampire. “No, you see, after the…event…we will call it an event…you will be very tired. There will not be much left of you. Not much personality. Not much energy. Not much for people to bother with. You will become a shadow of your former self.”

  They cherished their characters. They were proud of their personalities. They liked who they were.

  A shadow of that? Not much left? Nothing for other people to bother with?

  “Perhaps,” said the vampire, his voice like chocolate, dark and slippery, “to hasten the final ending, each of you should present a defense to the others. Each of you should explain to the other five why he or she should — or should not — be the choice.”

  “That is sick,” said Lacey sharply. “We are not going to lower ourselves to your level.”

  Randy said nervously, “I’m not so sure you’re right, Lacey.” It seemed to Randy if the vampire had all the facts, he might make the choice himself. That would be so much easier. Randy felt he was carrying enough guilt. It was his fault they were here at all. He did not want to carry more. On the other hand, he did not want to be the choice.

  “We are not going to let you have anybody,” Lacey informed the vampire. “You may as well face that, you hairball. We didn’t come here to be your choice.”

  The vampire definitely did not like being called names. His snarl seemed to cross the room, independently of his cloak and form. His teeth overlapped, as if he were biting his own chin, and his upper lip twitched like a dog guarding a back door.

  Sherree began to make dog noises herself, whimpering and moaning.

  “You came here for adventure,” the vampire pointed out to Lacey. “I am giving it to you.” His snarl turned into a caricature of a smile. “Never wish for anything,” he whispered joyfully. “You just might get it!”

  “You may leave now,” said Lacey imperiously. “And don’t come back.”

  The vampire ignored her. He met the eyes of each of the other five. “One of you will be given to me by the others,” he said gently. “And that is that. However long the night, however difficult the choice, you will complete the assignment.”

  Roxanne had completed every assignment of her life.

  Roxanne had been well organized since first grade, and always knew what chapter they were on, and which outline was due on Friday, and which quiz would be given on Monday.

  And Roxanne intended to complete the rest of her life as well. This was her senior year! She had college out there, and a yearbook. A prom, and a future. She couldn’t be letting some vampire suck her life away.

  The vampire disappeared. He did not seem to go out the door, but simply faded slowly. You could not tell whether he was still in the room or not. Roxanne counted to one hundred before she began prying at the floor again.

  Roxanne saw her dreams turn into reflections in a cracked mirror. Roxanne moved on to the third floorboard and yanked.

  The house was full of its own noises. Its shutters banged, and its roof clattered. Its porches creaked, and its shingles curled. Roxanne’s noise blended into the fabric of the night. And whatever was below her made no noise of its own. Instead it made a smell. As if the vampire were not enough of a stink, a new one rose from between the floors.

  “Shut up!” said Mardee fiercely. She hated Kevin now. She could not believe she had thought spending an evening with a boy would be fun. Boys. Ugh. They were disgusting. They laughed at you. Lives were in danger and what did they do? They suggested ice cream.

  Kevin put his hand tightly over his own mouth, making a gag from his palm, pantomiming absolute silence. Behind his palm he grinned insanely. He was really having an excellent time. Weird. But excellent.

  The laugh that had so angered Mardee, however, continued.

  From out in the yard, and from up in the tower, separate laughs spun through the fetid air.

  One laugh was as high-pitched as a broken piccolo.

  The other laugh was deep and mucky as oil wells.

  Both were evil.

  On both their heads, the hair shivered. Kevin’s hair
shifted position as if fingers were going through it, as if the laugh possessed hands to examine his scalp. Mardee’s hair blew around as if some tiny private tornado had settled in it.

  Kevin was terrified.

  It made him furious. Terror was for girls. What was with this panic seizing him?

  He wanted to wet his lips but could not bring himself to open his mouth. Something would fly into his mouth if he parted his lips. From behind the protection of his own palm he whispered to Mardee, “Let’s go sit in the Land Rover.”

  Roxanne had six floorboards lifted.

  It was like war, fighting the nails, but the way Lacey was riling up the vampire, he was going to quit the original option of choice and just hurl himself on somebody’s throat. Roxanne wanted to be gone.

  Needing more leverage, Roxanne stood up.

  Ignoring the stares of the others, she yanked on the boards, taking immense pride in her strength.

  The nails screamed as they were ripped out. Or was it the vampire screaming?

  Roxanne could not spare the time to look up.

  She had the misfortune to be looking down, therefore, when she finished opening up the floor. She had found the vampire’s sleeping place.

  His coffin.

  She fainted, falling directly into the rotting nest she had exposed.

  Chapter 8

  THE VAMPIRE WAS GONE.

  It was so strange. The fetid atmosphere of the tower was simply air. The overwhelming slimy horror of the place had vanished. The murmuring of the past, those victims whose souls lay under the mansion, ceased.

  Lacey walked in a slow circle around the tower room. She touched the walls.

  It was just a house.

  Plaster.

  Glass.

  Wood.

  Nothing more.

  “He left,” whispered Sherree. She stood up from her crouch and dusted herself off, as if she had been sitting on the sand at the beach and was ready to go in the water now. Immediately Sherree began worrying again what she looked like, and whether her hair still looked good, and if she needed to reapply her lip gloss, and if she’d wrecked her clothes from the dust and ickies that floated around this horrible place. She wanted a mirror so she could do a proper inspection of her face. Sherree dug deep into her pocketbook, searching for her mirror.

  Bobby came out of his trance. When he was still pinned in the air, he had been forced to stare into the ruined lives of the humans the vampire had taken over the decades. The horror of their destruction had turned his mind to ice. His screams had tightened in his throat and turned solid, and his heart seemed to thud in a vacuum, keeping him alive, but giving him no warmth, no pulse.

  When he had come down, he was a blank.

  It was truly like being half dead. Bobby had been able to investigate himself: He had seen that his flesh continued to function in its earthly way, taking in the air it needed, circulating the blood it required. And yet he was not all there. His mind — his soul — his very self — whatever those things were composed of: They hung suspended.

  He had thoughts, but they were distant. His thoughts seemed to have traveled out of state. Or out of body. His thoughts floated around him without meaning anything to him.

  Bobby, the consummate athlete, had never before had no grip on himself. No possession of his abilities.

  But now the vampire was gone. Bobby looked around, confused and disoriented, but was himself again. He felt his personality come back, as if it lay in puddles around the room, and was now tilting, sliding, coming back into the jar of his mind. I’m me again, he thought. The vampire didn’t take me after all. He just showed me what he can do.

  Zachary’s body had not slowed like Bobby’s. While Bobby had seemed to enter a mental hibernation, Zach had entered a horrible trembling, a constant vibration. Even when he could not see his muscles quiver, even when he could not observe his joints shivering, he could feel his corpuscles and cells shuddering. His complete interior, everything under his skin, was shaken by the fall. Shaken by being caught. Shaken by the taste and flavor and stench and feel of the vampire’s cloak.

  That cloak that had draped itself over his body. Truly it had been the lining from thousands of coffins. It was not moss, yet it was wet and green and growing. Every centimeter of his skin had recoiled in horror at its touch.

  The vampire himself had never touched Zach.

  He had been caught and picked up and removed to the tower by the cloak. Zach had not even been able to feel the vampire’s arms supporting him, although they must have. What strength could a cloak have?

  But now the vampire was gone.

  The vampire’s departure was so complete that Zach’s body knew it right down into the depths of his gut, and he ceased to shake from his fall.

  The vampire was gone.

  Zach was afraid to look around. In his shuddering self-oriented existence, had he missed the “event”? Had the vampire taken a victim while Zach was busy trembling? Was Zach going to count heads and find there were now only five teenagers in the tower? Who would the sixth be? Which of this group was missing now? Missing forever? Missing into that unspeakable horror that had scraped Zach’s skin? Peeled Zach’s fingers from the window and yet caught him at the bottom?

  And where? Where would that sixth one be right now? Swallowed in that cloak? Feeling the jaws of —

  Zach wrenched his mind away, and counted.

  He saw Bobby. He saw Lacey. He saw Randy. He saw Sherree. For one long, hideous, ghastly moment, he could not see Roxanne. And then his eyes lit on her: half fallen right through the floor.

  Zach’s body heaved itself in one last final shudder, more of a convulsion, really, and he stumbled forward to try to get Roxanne out of whatever pit she had slid into.

  Their fingers met, and Roxanne’s were surprisingly warm and calm.

  Roxanne was rather proud of herself. She was actually lying in the dreadful cavity of the vampire’s hibernation, and yet she was no longer afraid. For several fine moments she congratulated herself on her courage; awarded herself prizes for being the bravest on earth. Then she realized that the vampire had disappeared. Her own bravery — or lack of it — had nothing to do with the situation. There was no longer anything to be afraid of. The vampire had left.

  But where? thought Roxanne. Where does he go when he’s not here? He can’t get into this nest. I’m in it. And if he were here, visible or invisible, I would know.

  So where is he?

  “He’s gone!” repeated Sherree cheerfully. Sherree did a little dance. She tapped both toes and heels in a happy pattern on the wooden floor of the tower. She rocked a little, swayed a little, giggled a little. “Let’s get a move on, guys! Time to roll. Time to close the curtain on this little show.” Sherree headed for the door.

  But Lacey frowned. She preferred to have an understanding of events. “What could have made him leave?” said Lacey. She was suspicious. What was going on here?

  “Roxanne invaded his nest,” said Zach. “I think he had to flee.”

  Zach, Bobby, Randy, and Lacey stared down into the ghastly little coffinlike space between the floors.

  Sherree stomped her feet. “What is with you idiots?” she shouted. “Stop worrying about the vampire’s housing situation!”

  Lacey and Roxanne giggled in spite of themselves.

  Sherree said, “Come on, you guys. The night is still young. We can party some place intelligent instead of this dump.”

  Roxanne said, “You know, Sherree, I’m starting to like you.” Lacey, Roxanne, and Sherree giggled together, not quite sure what was funny, but finding themselves together in some girlish emotion.

  Roxanne started to get out.

  “Stop!” shouted Randy. He actually pushed her back in.

  “What am I supposed to do?” Roxanne shouted right back. “Set up housekeeping? Of course I’m getting out of here. Help me.” She stuck out one hand to Randy and Zach took the other.

  “Listen to me!” said Randy fier
cely. “Zach is right. The vampire left because you invaded his nest. And that means,” said Randy, “he’ll come back the minute you’re out of it.”

  Roxanne shook Randy’s hand free. Then feeling stronger still, she shook Zach’s off, also. She was very pleased with herself, getting out of the opening with help from nobody. I’m tough, she thought. I’m strong. I’m proud. “You are such a loser, Randy,” she said.

  Lacey tested the open doorway.

  There was nothing in the door space but air.

  The vampire no longer possessed the door. Nothing at all possessed the door. It was just a door.

  “We can leave,” she said briefly. “Come on, everybody. There’s no time to waste.”

  Sherree giggled again, and danced her way over the floor. “Wow, Randy, I mean — like — you told us this would be a night to remember. How did you do it? Did you hire an actor or something?” The vampire had been gone only minutes, and yet he was sliding from Sherree’s mind. Already she wondered if this was some weird combination of hologram and costume. Sherree caught Randy’s rejected hand and swung it happily. Randy had indeed given them a night to remember. In Sherree’s mind, Randy had gained points.

  Roxanne discovered that she had physical proof of the vampire’s existence. The vampire’s leavings clung to her skin. It was as if she’d coated herself with suntan lotion: Vampire oil was all over her flesh.

  While Lacey, ever cautious, crept toward the tower opening, and Sherree danced, and Randy worried, and Zach and Bobby gathered momentum and courage, Roxanne was forced to look down at her very own body, which had lain in a vampire’s nest.

  Roxanne came very close to throwing up.

  When she got home, Roxanne thought, she would take a shower several hours long. She would use Clorox and Ajax instead of Ivory soap. By the time she was done, it would be daylight and she would dry herself in the yellow sun, soaking up safety and light. She would revel in those precious hours in which vampires could not function.