"Still on a winning streak." Rich nodded toward the pile on his brother's desk as he leaned against the window. "What's with the books?"
"I've been reading up on vampires." Robert smiled wryly, picked up the top volume. "I thought I could learn something, but most of it's a load of crap. I've gotten some history, but mostly it's a lot of English professors talking about the 'metaphor of the vampire," explaining how sex lies at the root of the vampire's appeal. The reason people have been interested in vampires over the centuries is because they're supposed to be sexy. The vampire represents repressed sexuality, you know."
Rich smiled halfheartedly.
Robert shook his head. "Real vampires aren't sexy, though, are they?
The word 'suck' sounds erotic when you read it, but when you come across the body of someone who's been completely drained of all fluids, it's not erotic, just scary as hell." He dropped the book on his desk.
"English professors. Literary critics. Who are these people and why don't they just use a little common sense?
Bloodsucking is sexy these men get boners when they cut themselves shaving? Do these women get all hot and wet when they slice their fingers chopping vegetables? Jesus, what happens when they participate in the blood drive? There must be orgasms galorel" He snorted. "Who perpetuates this shill"
Rich smiled. "They're talking about vampires in literature Not real life. They don't know there are vampires in real life."
"Well, there are That's not a metaphor runnin around loose out there and draining people of blood." He pushed the pile of books away from him and stood. "We need to kill this fucker, not interpret his meaning. I got more information about vampires from horror flicks than I did from most of these books."
"They're right about one thing," Rich said. "There is an appeal to vampires. But it's not sex. It has nothing to do with eroticism or repressed desire or forbidden love or any of that." He pointed out the window toward the black church, visible over a low row of houses. "It's the same appeal as that, as religion. It's a chance to live for ever.
A guarantee that your consciousness will survive death."
"What can we do about that place?" Robert walked over to the window to join his brother. "I can't get a search warrant because I have no probable cause. Judge Simons says that the Constitution guarantees freedom of religion and that a preacher can build whatever kind of church he wants. He looked me straight in the eye and told me that a preacher should be able to do that without fear of police harassment."
"He's right."
"I know he is. But it pisses me off." Robert shook his head. "Maybe we should just burn the fucking place down."
Rich smiled. "Do you ever wonder what people would think if our conversations were bugged? I mean, here we are, the police chief and the editor of the paper, talking about setting fire to a church."
"I wasn't serious. "I know. But it's still a strange thing for people in our positions to discuss."
"We were brothers before we got our jobs. We were speaking as brothers, not cop and reporter."
"Forget it," Rich said. "It was just an observation. Damn, you're testy today."
"A vampire's out there killing people. What do you expect?"
"You know, I was thinking this afternoon about that old ghost town off the Globe Highway."
Robert frowned. "What ghost town? Those four old shacks by the side of the road?"
""Yeah. I mean, that place has no name. No one knows who used to live there or why they left."
"So there are a lot of little ghost towns like that all across the Southwest. Little places that no one knew about and that just disappeared. I was thinking maybe there's a trail of them. A trail of them across the country, lading all the way back to, I don't know, Roanoke." "Now you're stretching."
"Am I? We've got a vampire here that's who-knowshowmany-centuries old.
He's had to feed off something all those hundreds of years. You don't think it's reasonable to assume that he's been traveling around? You think he's been in Rio Verde all this time?"
"All those years." Robert sighed. "Intimidating, isn't it?"
"No kidding." "Maybe he's not that old. Maybe he was only made recently."
"Then where's the vampire who made him?" Rich stared out the window.
"Either wgy, there's an old one out there."
"So you think it's a vampire now, too?"
Rich shrugged. "I guess I do. You know, I was talking to Sue Wing, and she told me about Chinese vampires. Cup hugirngsis, they call them."
"Cup-who-girng-sees? How do you spell that?"
"I don't know. But, according to the Chinese, vampires aren't afraid of garlic, they're afraid of willow. You keep them away with jade, not crosses."
"I was thinking of having my men wear crogses, just in case."
"Maybe you should have them wear jade, too. It can't hurt."
"How many different vampire legends are there?" "Who knows? I told Sue to write a feature about vampires, tell people how they can protect themselves according to the English, the Chinese, whatever other U!tU(gS she can dig up."
"A vampire story in the paper?"
"It's a feature. It'll be presented like an interesting discussion of foreign customs and beliefs--but I bet there are a lot of people out there who'll be grateful for the information from a practical standpoint. People are worded."
Robert leaned against his desk. "Tell me about it." Rich paused.
"The reason I stopped by is because I think we should bring this up at the town council meeting next Thursday. This is getting too big. I think we need to develop some sort of... civil defense plan. I think we need to organize. We're not getting anywhere just waiting around for the vampire to strike again. We need to act, not react. We have to try to do something before someone else is killed."
Robert nodded. "You're right. I've thought that too. Woods told me that over a week ago, but I've been so busy bagging bodies and following up on all the crackpot calls I've been getting, that I haven't even had time to think. I've probably slept a total of ten hours for the past two weeks." He looked at his brother. "You want to put together a presentation?"
"Sure."
"We'll deliver it together. It'll give it more weighL" He cleared his throat. "Do you have a cross?"
Rich shook his head. "No. I'm sure Corrie does, though."
Robert walked around the desk, opened the top middle drawer, and drew out a thin gold chain with a crucifix dangling from the end, He threw it to his brother. "Here.
Take this. I'll get another one."
"I'm sure Corrie---"
"This one's for you. Get one for Corrie and Anna if they don't have them. Buy some jade while you're at it. Go to Fritz's Jewelry Store.
Charge it to me if you can't afford it. Fritz owes me a favor."
Rich stared at his brother, then slowly nodded. "Thanks," he said.
Robert closed the drawer, not meeting Rich's gaze. "Just do it."
What in God's name was she doing here?
Shelly stared out the windshield of the van at Sue's home. There was a small square of light from the bathroom window on the side of the house, but other than that the place was dark. Sue, and the rest of her family, were dead asleep. Dead. Asleep.
Shelly shivered.
"What time you got?" Mr. Hillman asked.
There was the sound of shuffling in the back. "one-thirty," Mr.
Grimes said.
Shelly turned around, looked at the two men, at the silhouetted forms of the others inside the van. There was an almost palpable sense of excitement within the vehicle, and though she felt it too, though her blood was racing, and she could hardly wait to get outside and get to work, she sensed that they were all a little too excited, a little too pumped up, that things tonight might go too far. That scared her.
That scared her a lot.
It had started out innocently enough. She'd gone last Sunday to the Church of the Holy Trinity. She'd heard the rumors, she'd heard the gossip, and she was curious. The service had been held outside, in the vacant lot behind the church, and there had been over a hundred people there, sitting on benches, on folding chairs, on blankets, on boulders.