Section Seven

 “So how is your old man?” Upton was walking in front of Zeph. “I would have talked to him, but I was a little pressed for time.”

Zeph glanced behind him; he saw the faint outline of a tall feminine figure, holding a gun at his back as she followed them.

“Don’t try to run, by the way,” came Upton’s voice, “that’s vamp-shot. Stuffed full of garlic capsules.”

Zeph nodded, holding back his fear. “So you’re working for the Coffinmaker.”

He could feel Upton’s scowl. “I don’t work for anyone but myself, boy. All vampires do. Me and York have a symbiotic relationship—I help him and he helps me.”

“York?”

Upton tossed his head but said nothing.

The silent darkness was interrupted by a ring of vampires that floated down, encircling the three.

“Perfect job, Upton,” the Coffinmaker grinned. He strode forward to Zeph.

“Ah!” he placed his hand on Zeph’s shoulder, “Zephaniah—I am sorry we could not be good friends. I saw much promise in you. But unfortunately you are deluded by your family.”

He took his hand away and turned about. “You may still have a chance to prove yourself—but now, take him to the Room.”

Forgone and Thomas, the two heftiest vampires, came forward and grasped Zeph by a hand each. Zeph did not struggle, not even with his mind—there were too many vampires about now to try mind-control with.

The shoved him into a low-ceilinged room. Zeph stopped himself just in time to keep away from the wall. He stepped back from it—it was covered with stakes.

He looked about—the ceiling, the walls, the door were covered with protruding stakes. Forgone grinned at him.

“Hope you like the décor,” he said as he closed the door.

Zeph sat down, crossing his legs. Not even a coffin to sleep in! This was truly inhumanity. Not that these vampires were human…

#

“What do you want me to do—for you?” Cy asked.

Philo was running off, ordering men to tap the call.

The voice of Night spoke again. “Tell my dear Philo that it’s no use. He won’t be able to track me.”

“He’s determined,” Cy watched Philo run off.

“You met Kilian James, I presume?”

“Um, yeah I did. He told me some things about you. But—“

“Don’t expect me to tell you anything. I won’t answer your questions.”

Cy bit his lip. Mara was watching him with no expression.

It was several moments before Night spoke up again. “Kilian is traveling on a train for Chicago at the moment.”

“Wait—he’s a vampire. Can’t he levitate there?”

“He got transformed before the upgrade.”

Cy frowned. “What—“

“I told you not to ask questions. He’s traveling to Chicago, and I want you to get him for me.”

“And?”

“And bring him back to the New York. He boarded the 2;15 train to Chicago. He’s trying to run, Cyril. I want you to bring him back.”

“I see. And…why?”

“I didn’t say you could ask any questions.”

“Oh. Yes. So I do this and you’ll help me?”

“I believe I said that. And I want you to do this alone, Cy—you hear me?”

“Yes, I hear—“ Cy stopped.

The operator’s voice came on. “If you’d like to make a call, please hang up and try again. If you need help, hang up and then dial your operator.”

“—You.” Cy closed the phone. Philo walked back into the room, frowning.

“Did she just hang up?” Philo pointed to the phone.

“Yeah. Why?”

“Well…our tapper didn’t pick up anything. It’s like the call never existed.”

Cy looked at his phone. “Well…whether it existed or not, I’ve got a job to do.”

#

“So, Upton,” the Coffinmaker half-whispered as the ring of vampires dispersed, “who’s that girl with you? She looks young.”

“Don’t let looks fool you, York. The girl is well-trained. She’s been a vampire for seventeen years.”

“She can’t have been alive for very long before that,” the Coffinmaker surveyed the girl’s lone form from a distance.

Upton said nothing, but put his hands on his hip, scowling.

The girl’s gaze followed the two, slowly. When she saw the Coffinmaker looking at her she raised one slender eyebrow.

She couldn’t have been a day over fifteen, but her confidence made her seem older. Her brown hair was pulled back and captured in a thin bun; her maroon eyes were troubling and deep. Her cheeks were soft and her forehead was perfect. In all ways she was beautiful, but an onlooker couldn’t call her a goddess. She looked too wild, too unrestrained for that.

“Does she drink?” the Coffinmaker asked.

Upton shrugged. “Somewhat. Not as much as I’d like, but she’s getting used to it.”

“Hmmm. What’s her name?”

“Jacqueline.”

“She may just be a good tool with Zeph.”

Upton was grimacing now. “Let me remind you, York—this girl is my charge. I will train her and use her however I see fit.”

“Well of course I wouldn’t want to do anything against your wishes,” the Coffinmaker oozed. “Even though I do have a full coven of vampires willing to rip your liver out and roast it over a hot flame if I so say.”

Upton was frozen; whether fury or fear had taken him one could not tell.

“So,” the Coffinmaker interlocked straightened his frock coat, “can I use her?”

Upton’s lips were frozen in a snarl that couldn’t make its way out. “Fine.”

“It makes me so happy when we work together,” the Coffinmaker patted Upton’s tense back.

#

Cy loved flying high—that was perhaps the only thing he loved about being a vampire. He so enjoyed watching the cars on the highways, driving by, blissfully unaware that a creature of the undead was watching them.

Right now, however, he had no time to ponder. His eyes were following the train.

Cy dropped altitude, gliding lightly through the air like a falling leaf. The six billion trillion tons of earth loomed closer, along with the train.

Cy slowed and landed at the back of the train, right in front of the back cabin. Leisurely, he strode along the tops of the train-car. Coming to the skylight, he opened it and slipped in.

He entered a silent, dark car cabin. On either side of him people sat, staring out the windows. One young boy was staring straight at him, eyes bulging.

Cy waved, silent.

The boy blinked, putting his hoodie over his head. “An’ they told me I couldn’t go up there…”

Cy scanned the cabin contents, not seeing Kilian. He stepped forward and opened the door to the next car.

The next car did not reveal the one he was searching for either. Neither did the next, or the next and, not surprisingly, neither did the one after that.

Cy grunted as he came to the last car. He must have missed him on the way. Well—nothing for it but to walk back. However, first he had to get some air. All this smell was stifling. Some vampires might like it, take it in, but Cy thought it smelled like old meat.

Cy took in the evening air. The pinkness of the sky when he had entered the train was gone, and now all was foggy. Cy stretched, then stopped. Sitting on the side of the train, dangling his feet over swiftly passing tracks, sat a small figure.

It was familiar. Cy recognized Kilian immediately. Cy stepped forward, striding down the length of the train and leaping between them like Superman, easily.

Kilian stood up when he heard Cy. He dropped the cup and it disappeared into the passing countryside.

Kilian’s lips formed the word, ‘Cy?’

“Hey Kilian,” Cy called.

“Why are you here?” Kilian frowned deeply.

“Night wants to talk to you,” Cy spoke calmly, smoothly, as if speaking to a child.

“No! I thought she would use you. No, I’m not going back.”

Kilian turned and ran down the train’s length. Cy gave a grunt and ran after him.

Kilian had short legs, and Cy had very long ones. These gave him the ability to close the distance—but also caused his foot to catch on the edge of the car as he landed, sending him flying off the train.

Kilian stood, silent and erect, looking back for sign of Cy. When he didn’t spot him after twenty seconds, the small vampire turned and walked back toward his car. Then he stopped, because Cy was standing in front of him.

“You forgot that I can levitate,” Cy grinned triumphantly.

Kilian shrieked, “Get away!” With speed of desperation he sent a punch to Cy’s gut that sent the taller vampire hurtling backward.

Cy hit the top of the traincar and fell under it. He caught the edge right before he hit the tracks and hung from the bottom, thanking God or Fate or whoever looked after undead that he hadn’t got caught in the spinning train-wheels.

A spark hit his face. He grimaced. Well—nothing for it. With brute, undead strength, Cy ripped through the bottom of the train, pulling himself out.

He climbed into the train car, and this time everyone was staring at him. Cy closed his eyes—he hated making people’s mouths drop like this. A person should be able to live their life without suspicion of other things. People called it happiness.

Cy smiled. “Conductor’s regards, and he says there’s been a bit of a problem. Nothing we can’t fix, though. Enjoy the rest of your ride.”

And everyone returned to their newspapers.

#

“Now look, Zeph,” the Coffinmaker adopted the fatherliest smile he could, “I’m going to give you a chance here, alright?”

Zeph stood, looking down at the area right in front of his feet. He was flanked by Forgone and Fabio.

“You and Jacqueline, here, will go on a mission. The Coffinmaker gestured to the girl, who was leaning against the stone wall. “The object of this mission is to destroy the werewolf pack that’s been getting in our way these past few days.”

Zeph raised an eyebrow, still looking at a speck of dirt between his sneakers.

“Now, Jacqueline is going to have a remote that will activate that belt you are wearing.”

Zeph looked at the belt they had clamped to his waist when they removed him from the Stake Room.

The Coffinmaker nodded. “When she pushes this button—and that will only be if you try to escape, mind—you will be blown into oblivion, with garlic.”

The Coffinmaker blinked once, then continued. “If you try to remove the belt, it will also explode.”

Zeph still made no move and said no words, silent as stone. While he was not watching Jacqueline and she was not watching him, they were both already battling each other.

The Coffinmaker crossed his arms. “You can go now, Jacqueline.”

She nodded and led the way out. Zeph followed, still staring at his sneakers.

“I hope she’s up for this,” the Coffinmaker smiled. “She knows that he is a full-blood?”

Upton nodded. “Yes. She’s ready—her mind isn’t weak. He won’t control her.”

“I am glad to hear you say that. Of course, if he does manage to…” the Coffinmaker took out a remote identical to Jacqueline’s. “…I shall have to take extreme measures.”

Upton nodded. “Alright. I’m going to go get the bomb.”

#

“This way,” Jacqueline said to the stone wall as they emerged from the abandoned subway tunnel.

She hadn’t locked eyes with Zeph at all since they left, and he hadn’t with her. However, he looked her over as she strode along in front of him.

She was dressed somewhat like a goth, in a black-and-white tartan miniskirt, sneakers and a black tank. However, she wore no makeup or bracelets, and her hair was done up in a sensible, short ponytail at the back. Her skin was exceedingly pale in the moonlight.

She was tall, almost as tall as Zeph, but her face didn’t have that look of womanhood gained. He could easily imagine her as a scared highschool freshman. Suddenly her head turned and her eyes caught him looking at her.

He looked away, stoning his face.

She floated into the air and beckoned for him too also, her face blank. Zeph left the ground and stayed at her height. Then she flew ahead so fast that he flinched. Zeph followed her.

Through the night they zipped, topping skyscrapers and dodging buildings, playing a night game of follow-the-leader. Soon they were out of New York and flying over fields and forests. After ten solid minutes of flight, Jacqueline dropped.

Zeph followed, landing next to her. She frowned at him and stepped away. He saw her finger move to a pocket on her shirt. He smiled—that was where she kept the remote, then.

They were standing in a marshy field. A few trees loitered about and several boisterous owls hooted like mad frat boys in the night.

“Well?” Zeph spoke for the first time.

“Shh!” she raised her finger to her lips. “They’ll hear us.”

“Who?”

“The werewolves.”

That’s right! Zeph shook his head. Why had he forgotten about the mission? This girl wasn’t…distracting him, was she? He choked back the thought and stalked after her.

She took a walkie-talkie out of it’s holster in her miniskirt and pressed the button. “Upton, can you hear me?”

Static bubbled and spat. Zeph growled inwardly as Upton’s voice came in.

“I can hear you, Jackie. We’ve procured the bomb and are heading towards you.”

“Good. We’ll give you the signal when we know right where they are.”

Jacqueline put the walkie-talkie back in it’s holster.

“What’s the plan?” Zeph folded his arms.

“We close in on the werewolves—find out right where they are. Then Upton and the other vampires fly over and drop a napalm on them.”

Zeph nodded. “Wow, that’s…that’s clever.”

She didn’t say anything. With one fluid movement, she bent down and tugged off her shoes.

Zeph frowned.

“It’ll be quieter,” Jacqueline sniffed. “Shoes are such a nuisance, anyway. I hope Upton doesn’t make me wear them again—he wanted to make a good impression on York.”

“The Coffinmaker?”

She nodded, biting her lip.

“So, Upton is like your dad?”

Displeasure marred her face. “No. He’s my mentor, my transformer. I’ll leave him, soon, and take my own place in the nightworld.”

“I see. No family?”

“They all think I’m dead.” She put a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

“That’s too bad. Couldn’t you go back and tell them you’re okay? I bet they’re scared.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “They’ve forgotten about me by now, I’m sure. It’s been seventeen years. If I did go back, don’t you think they’d wonder why I hadn’t changed, Ze—“

Jacqueline faltered. Zeph realized she had almost said his name.

It’s amazing how much power a name has. When someone whose company you enjoy says your name, you remark in your mind how much nicer it sounds when they say it. And you want them to say it again and again. That’s why people who refer to others by name are some of the most popular.

“Zeph. It’s Zeph,” he said. “And your name is?”

She drew back. “You know my name.”

“Yeah. I…I just wanted to hear you say it.”

She frowned at him like he was mad. Then she relented, removing her gaze from him. “Jacqueline.”

“Nice to meet you.” Feeling bold, he reached out and shook her hand. Her skin was frozen, like an ice sculpture.

That was when the walkie-talkie chose to buzz.

“Jacqueline! Where are you? Jacqueline?” Upton’s voice was a growl.

She jumped, grabbing it swiftly. “Sorry, Upton. We’re moving in right now.”

“You better be. We’re almost there.”

She put the walkie-talkie away and didn’t give him so much as a sidelong glance as she trod off into the brush.

Zeph grinned and followed her.

#

Cy’s eyes flickered open and beheld a gun barrel.

Even undead need rejuvenation. Granted, the rejuvenation process works best when the rejuvenator is in a coffin or a grave, but it will still progress if they are, say, laying in the diesel engine car. Which Cy happened to be.

“Kilian,” Cy sat up. “I was hoping you would come back. Man, that was one punch you gave me.” Cy chuckled.

“Don’t move, Cy,” the Browning 9 millimeter shook in Kilian’s hand.

Cy glanced out the open car-door. It was still night time, probably about one in the morning judging from the way the moonlight slanted.

“Is that loaded with vamp-shot, Kilian?”

“Yes.” Kilian’s brow knit together like a quilt. “Now look, Cy, I know you didn’t come armed. If you get off this train and leave me alone, I won’t shoot you right now.”

Cy shrugged.

There are an amazing number of things in the galaxy that happened by chance. The planets, they say, happened by chance—one day there was just a lot of interplanetary dust and then poof, and the next day there were a lot of fully operational planets just waiting for creation or evolution or whatever God had in mind for them.

Without chances, the world would be a dull place—and it wouldn’t have plastic or electricity or airplanes or atom bombs.

It was quite a small chance that at that very moment when Kilian was pointing the gun at Cy’s gut, the train suddenly hit the brakes. It was a small chance that the conductor at that very moment had choked on a bit of chip and accidentally fell against the break. Perhaps it wasn’t chance—perhaps someone was influencing that bit of chip to lodge in the conductor’s throat in just the right way.

Whether chance or not, the train braked suddenly and Kilian was thrown off balance, allowing Cy to leap on top of him and grab the gun from his grasp.

“Now look, Kilian,” Cy hefted the struggling vampire up with one arm, holding the Browning at arm’s length with the other, “you’re coming back with me, whether you like it or not.”

Kilian’s desperate punches did nothing against Cy’s stolid body—the vampire was no fighter. He wailed as he flailed.

“Stop, Cy! I can’t go back to Night! I can’t! She would make me tell her the things I’ve done and then…and then I don’t know what she’d do! But I can’t let her know what I’ve done, Cy! I can’t!”

Cy tried to stop his ears against the outcry, but he found himself faltering as he stood on the top of the train car.

“What have you done that’s so terrible?” Cy wondered.

“I gave in to her enemy’s wishes and—other things. I can’t tell you, but please, please don’t take me back to her.”

Cy looked at Kilian. There were tears in the vampire’s eyes. Cy had always been a compassionate man. He could never sacrifice someone for his son. It wouldn’t make him a good father, it wouldn’t gain his respect in anyone’s eyes. It would only make him greedy and selfish.

Cy’s hold on the scruff of Kilian’s neck loosened, and he let him down.

Kilian looked at the train car under their feet. “Thank you, Cy.”

“No…no problem, Kilian.”

Kilian strode away, slowly, looking back in awe and gratitude at Cy.

Well, he would have to find another way to help Zeph. So he’d come all the way out here for—

Then it hit him. And he smiled.

Author's Note

Don't you just love these cliffhangers? x)

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[Shanna (Renae)]

You're getting better and better with these cliffhangers.