They nodded, even Smith, all agreeing that the human race had hardly played fair.
“When they come out,” said Sammy thoughtfully, “we’ll have to take things easy. Treat them gently and give them a chance to breed.”
“That’s right,” agreed Lupe. “Build up the supply before we can let loose the demand. Personally, though, I’m not worried too much. My guess is that they wouldn’t have taken many dogs down under The Tombstone with them or, if they did, then they’d have to restrict them to the limit. Anyway, they’d welcome a change.” He bared his teeth, concentrated, and changed into a handsome pseudo-Alsatian. He was grinning as he resumed human form. “See what I mean?”
“Humans were always suckers for dogs,” said Boris enviously. “I’ve often wondered why you just didn’t move right in and take over.”
“Why should we?” Lupe shook his head at the vampire’s ignorance. “No need to kill the goose, you know. They never suspected us, not after the Middle Ages, and many a human has worked himself silly to support us in luxury.” He scowled. “When I think of how many of us got caught in the Big Bang—!”
“We all got caught in it.” Sammy kicked at the fire.
The rest nodded, agreeing with Sammy all the way. Smith didn’t say anything. He was still a little confused and more than inclined to think he was in a dream. But fantastic as everything seemed it all made a peculiar kind of sense. Ghouls, vampires and werewolves were, obviously, very real. Divergent branches of human stock, perhaps, ultra specialists who had become utterly dependent on the human race for their sustenance. Lupe and his kind had adapted best of all but, in the final essence, they were all parasites. He too, now he came to think of it; and suddenly he was very conscious of their concern over the survival of the few humans left beneath The Tombstone.
Parasites cannot live without a host.
Lupe stretched himself, yawned, and rose to his feet. “Well,” he said, “I guess that we’d better get on with it.” Changing to animal form he began to run over the cracked, overgrown expanse of the slab of cadmium concrete which was The Tombstone. Nose to the ground, tail waving, he looked every inch a splendid specimen of the canine species. Even Smith, who knew better, had to restrain a desire to call to him so that he could pat his head.
“What’s he doing?” he asked.
“Checking up,” said Sammy. “Lupe’s got sharper senses than we have and he’s finding out whether or not they are still moving around down there.” He held up his hand for silence. “Watch him!”
Lupe looked over his shoulder, grinned, then vanished behind a clump of scrub. When he reappeared he was in human shape.
“I think I’ve got something,” he called. “Scent’s pretty strong by this ventilator.”
“They coming out?” Sammy sprang to his feet, his strong legs carrying him over to the werewolf. “Are they?”
“Can’t tell.” Lupe altered his shape again and sniffed around some more, finally cocking his head and resting one furry ear against a barely visible crack in the concrete. He concentrated so hard that even his tail stopped wagging.
“Dawn’ll be here soon,” whispered Boris. He shivered and drew his ragged cloak around him. “Another day in the mud.”
“How do you arrange it?” said Smith. Like Boris he kept his voice low. “I guess that you could just cover yourself with that cloak and you’d be safe. Is that why you wear it?”
“It has its uses,” said Boris ambiguously. He glared at the young vampire with an active dislike. “Listen,” he warned, “just because I was responsible for you being here doesn’t mean that I’ve got to wet-nurse you. Life’s tough enough without that.”
“Who wants you to wet-nurse anyone?” Smith returned the glare. “From what I can see you’re just an old-fashioned has-been. Walking around with that cloak as if you were some Count or something. Why didn’t you get a plastic cover like they used to cover automobiles with? You could fold that up small and have a regular tent at daytimes.”
“Smart guy,” sneered Boris. “That’s the trouble with you young pups, always think you know better than your elders. I’d look fine walking about with a tent on my back now, wouldn’t I? Maybe you’d better learn that people like us have to practice camouflage all the time. One slip and—I” He made a suggestive gesture. “It’s happened before, you know.”
“In comic books,” admitted Smith. “But who believes in vampires now?”
“And what’s the reason for that?” Boris tightened his thin mouth. “Camouflage, of course, what else? Same as humans don’t believe in Sammy and his kind, but how long would it take them to figure it out? So maybe they’d think you was sick in the head and lock you away in an asylum, but what then? They wouldn’t feed you the right diet and they’d keep you there for a long, long time. And you’d die there, make no mistake about that.” He shuddered. “It happened to a friend of mine.”
“Old-fashioned, that’s what you are.” Smith appealed to Sammy. “You can see that, can’t you? You’re educated and—”
“Pipe down!” interrupted Sammy. He felt all on edge as he always did when Lupe came to make one of his periodic check-ups. His hunger had mounted until it was a fire in his stomach and his nerves were like harp strings. Restlessly he got to his feet and wandered over to where the Werewolf was sniffing the ground.
“They’re still alive,” said Lupe. He’d changed again and stood, breathing deeply, his chest and forehead covered with sweat. “Hell, I’m all in!”
“Come and sit down.” Sammy led the way back to the fire, knowing of the demands that shape-changing made on Lupe’s energy sources. The werewolf sagged as he slumped beside the blaze.
“I could smell them,” he said after a while. “Scent’s stronger than it was and it’s my guess that they are moving upward.”
“On their way out?” Hope flamed in the old vampire’s eyes. “Is that it, Lupe?”
“Could be.” Lupe relaxed still more. “From the sounds I’d say that they are moving heavy equipment toward the surface. Maybe one of their tunnels got blocked and they have to clear it. That or they aren’t too sure what conditions are like up here and don’t want to take any chances.” He grinned. “Anyway, they’re still safe.”
The others grinned with. him.
“You know,” said Smith thoughtfully, “this needs careful planning.” He threw another twig on the fire. “Very careful planning.”
“Meaning?” Sammy stared dully into the fire. Lupe had gone; he’d rested for a short while and then, resuming animal form for fast travel, had loped off back to his wife and new litter. Sammy felt more depressed than usual after he had gone. It must be nice to be able to return to a family. He wished he had one of his own.
“Well,” said Smith, “if Lupe knows his business then the humans are on their way out. When they do finally come out, we’ll have to contact them, right?”
“That’s right.” Sammy fought down the hunger which thought of all those humans living and dying down below always aroused. Once he had tried digging down toward them but had had to give up in despair. That had been during one of his desperate periods.
“So who is going to be the contact.” Smith glanced at Sammy. “You?”
“Why not?” Boris was quick to defend his friend.
“Why not?” Smith shrugged. “Look at him, that’s why not.”
“Sammy’s held down jobs with humans before.”
“In the old days, maybe, but there were plenty of freaks walking around then. Those days are over.”