"But there's no way to know where he will strike again?"
Sue translated, her grandmother answered, and she shook her head.
"No."
"Will you come with us to the town council meeting on Thursday?" Rich asked. "Will you tell this to the council, so we can come up with some type of civil defense measures?"
This time, Sue did not even have to ask her grand mother. "Yes," she said. "We'll come."
Corrie sat in her car across the street from Taco Bell, looking through the front windows at Rich and that slut, sitting across from each other at one of the tables and eating. Jesus had been right. Rich was slipping it to that Oriental whore. No wonder he'd been so eager to get rid of her, to pack her off to a new job so he could set up his little teaching scare and pick up a young bimbo.
Of course Jesus had been right, she told herself. Could
Jesus ever be wrong?
No.
She knew that now.
But there had been some doubt. What interest could the Son of God possibly have in the minutiae of ordinary lives like hers and Rich's?
Why would He spend His valuable time playing fortune-teller for her when He could be ending world hunger and revealing the cure for cancer?
It was blasphemy to think that way.
She stared at the Taco Bell window. Behind the hot pink words painted on the glass that advertised the "Fiesta Deal," she saw Rich laugh, nod. In her mind, she saw him going down on her, burying his face between her legs and licking her wet pussy while the slut moaned and thrashed beneath him, her slitty eyes closed in ecstasy.
He would pay for his adultery.
And she would definitely pay. Jesus hated chinks. He had reserved a special place in hell for those slant-eyed heathens. And there was no way the Son of God would tolerate this sort of harlotry in the town of His rebirth.
Corrie smiled to herself. A month ago, a week ago even, if she had learned of her husband's unfaithfulness, it would have devastated her. tut she was stronger now. The Lord had given her strength.
Let them do what they wanted. Let them consort in public. Let them fuck in the middle of the street for all she cared.
She would have the last laugh.
I Jesus would see to that.
She took her hands off the steering wheel, pressed them together, closed her eyes, and began to pray.
The Rio Verde Town Council met on the third Thurs day of every month.
More than one council member over the past few years had tried to get the meeting day switched from Thursday to Tuesday since Thursday was a good night for TV. But the mayor, who owned Desert Ac cess Gable, and Councilman Jones, who was the manager of Radio Shack, had always successfully defeated such efforts, citing tradition and stating that if an individual believed that television was more important than town business, then that person did not belong on the council.
The two men also mentioned at each of these junctures that, if desired, shows could be videotaped and watched at a more convenient time.
With VCRs and blank tapes purchased from Radio Shack, Rich had always thought, and though he'd never said a word about it, he had stored that idea away as the basis for a future editorial.
Tonight, though, the meeting concerned nothing so frivolous.
Tonight they were here to talk about vampires.
For the first time since the water-rate increase controversy two years back, the council chambers were filled, although this time the mood was tense, the room over flowing with frightened people who ordinarily had no interest in civic affairs. Townspeople filled all of the extra seats, and the crowd spilled outside to the front of the building where a large group had gathered to listefi to the proceedings through the door. Most of the people, Rich noticed, looked tired, nervous, on edge. He saw homemade crosses hanging around necks, smelled garlic mixed with sweat.
In addidon to the mayor, council, and town manager, the leaders of most of the churches were here, as were most of the members of the Chamber of Commerce, including Hollis and several of his cronies. Rich sat between Robert and Sue, who was seated next to her father and grandmother. In the audience he could see the FBI agent and the guy from the state police.
"I should've prepared something," Sue said. "I hate talking in front of crowds. I'm going to freeze up."
"You may not even have to talk at all," Rich told her. "We'll see how things go. Robert has some prepared statements, so do I, if we need them, and if that's not enough to convince people, we may ask your grandmother some questions so they can get it from the horse's mouth.
Basically you'll just be a translator."
Robert leaned behind his brother and addressed Sue. "Don't forget, we already have a head start. People read your story in the paper. That already gives us some legitimacy."
Sue nodded and said nothing.
The meeting was called to order, and in a frayed and worried voice Mayor Tillis announced that the usual reading of the minutes would not take place today so that they could proceed directly to the matter at hand.
He looks old, Rich thought. Old and scared. "We're here to talk about vampires," the mayor said. He scanned the room, waiting and prepared for a reaction, but there was none. No one smiled, no one laughed, no one spoke. There was only a hushed and fearful silence. "We will hear from our police chief," the mayor said. "Robert Carter." "
Robert stood. "Thank you."
He began with the discovery of Manuel Torres's body and Donna Sandoval's assertion that she saw Tortes walking with Caldwell Burke, and continued through to the abduction of Pare Frye, spelling out the events clearly and
In' chronologically. He mentioned the expert opinion of
Woods, who nodded in agreement, and went into just enough detail on the murders to let people know what they were dealing with.
Rich glanced over at the FBI agent and the state policeman, to see how they were reacting to this. Both had been invited by Robert to the meeting, but neither had been told in advance what exactly was going to be discussed. The state policeman was openly smirking, feeling smugly superior to the rural bumpkins surrounding him, but the FBI agent had no smile on his face. He appeared to be genuinely interested in what was being said.
Rich fried that in his mind for later.
Robert put down the paper from which he'd been reading. "Hard as it may be for us to believe, we have a vampire here in Rio Verde. I know such things aren't supposed to exist, and two months ago I would've bet my bottom dollar that they didn't, but I believe now that they do. And that's why I wanted to speak today. One is here. And it is killing people. Our people. I think we need to figure out a strategy for dealing with this creature, for protecting ourselves from it and killing it."
Matt Calderon raised his hand and began speaking in a too-high voice even before the mayor nodded toward him. "Why don't we feed him someone with AIDS?" Calderon asked. "We could test everyone, maybe find someone staying at the ranch, and when he bites into that AIDS blood, that'll be the end of him."
"Vampires don't get diseases," the mayor said. "They're already dead.
That's a nitwit idea."
Hollis stood and began to speak, though he had not been recognized.
"There are no such things as vampires," he said. "I wish you'd all stop--"
He was drowned out by the loud sound of angry disagreement from the assembled crowd. "If there's no vampires, who killed Terry Clifford?" someone asked. "I saw one!" Buford exclaimed from the back. "Me too" someone else echoed.
The mayor pointed at Hollis. "Sit down," he said. "We're not here to debate the existence of vampires. That's something all of us except you seem to agree on. We're here to decide how to protect ourselves against them. How to kill them, if possible."
The questions came fast and furious. Where did the vampire live? What did it look like? How old was it? Had any of the victims become vampires themselves? Robert answered as best he could. ' "How are we going to kill him?" Buford asked. ""That's the main thing we need to know. Silver bullet? Stake?" "Yeah!" someone said, "Stake him!"