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Andrew Roller Presents
GIRL PATROL
Chapter Twenty-Eight
At first it seemed as if dew was collecting on the branches of the
old trees to the right of where they were sitting. Then the dew grew
richer, like a misty brew spilling from the leaves.
ÒTheyÕre here,Ó Vlad said. Alfonse sat up and looked behind him.
EsmeldaÕs head snapped to her right and she said,
ÒThank God.Ó She stood up. ÒLetÕs get some decent blood for a
change.Ó She walked toward the trees. As she approached them she saw
something gleaming, through the mist. It was VladÕs machine. Wraith
vampires were still spilling out of it, like smoke from some far off fire.
Their bodies commingled in the branches of the trees; but not too much!
Form weighed them down, made them heavy. They preferred to hang in the
air.
Nobody knew the genesis of the wraith vampires. Was it perhaps
from some occult mating of the dead, between a real wraith and a fanged
corpse? Whatever their origin, the result was, to EsmeldaÕs mind,
usefully debased. Unlike the full-blooded vampires of Darkness City,
these creatures were easy to control. If, that is, one bore the rare
vampire trait of Dominance. Esmelda had it in spades, Vlad had it less.
Together they could get the wraith-vampires to do their bidding.
Especially since even they knew, in their distant east coast abodes, that
Esmelda was queen of all vampires she surveyed. In the future and, now,
in the past as well.
But she was sick of the past. She had managed to spread radiation
all over the place and it had wrecked the blood of the hamburgers. There
were plenty of them now, sick and easy pickings, but the taste was not
pleasant. No, fuck this place. As she passed through the gathering forms
of the wraith-vampires, she wondered if she should send them all back.
They wouldnÕt be happy with her when they found out what the blood in
their new world tasted like. Esmelda cringed. May Satan himself help her
if the crap in Darkness City ever got here. She could hear the editorialists
now: ÒOur QueenÕs new world tastes like shit.Ó Suddenly something hit
her from behind. Esmelda fell to the ground. Her neck snapped sideways,
her fangs out, her eyes blood red. She was about to try biting whoever
was on top of her when she realized it was her husband.
A powerful laser blast shot over both their heads.
ÒGet in the machine!Ó Vlad cried. He lifted himself. Esmelda
scrambled out from under him. Fast as the wind, they both darted for the
box standing amidst the trees, just ahead of them. Two more laser blasts
shot past. A branch came hurtling down from a tree, stake-like. Esmelda
saw it just in time and it fell past her to the ground. Another shot. A
scream. As Esmelda reached the open machine she heard her husband cry,
ÒAlfonse!Ó
The inside of the machine was nearly dark. A small glow emanating
from the walls was the only sign that it was alive, something other than
discarded junk left by some passerby in the grove of trees. EsmeldaÕs
eyes scanned the instrument panel. It was set in the wall, just inside the
machineÕs door, to the right, designed like an elevator. Vlad had explained
the buttons to his wife and, recalling now which one to push, she hit it
with her thumb. Nothing happened. A shot hit the machine. It rocked.
Esmelda frantically hit the button again but still there was no response,
just the warm humming glow coming from the walls. Vlad darted inside.
ÒItÕs not working!Ó Esmelda screamed.
ÒFuck,Ó Vlad said. He tried punching the button but the machine, like
some indulgent psychotherapist, just hummed happily away, its walls
glowing sedately.
ÒItÕs a trap!Ó Esmelda cried. She turned on her husband, her eyes red,
her fangs about to sink into his neck, her hands reaching to tear his head
off. Suddenly there was another scream. She paused, her hands upraised,
her husband lifting his own to ward her off, both of them gaping out the
machineÕs open door.
The wraith-vampires had scattered. Lying on the ground, about
twelve feet from the time machineÕs door, was a booted figure. There was
a gun in his hand, but it was useless now. He was dead, or almost so, the
life draining out of him, his fingers, still on the trigger of his gun,
twitching. And then the fingers stopped moving. For standing above him,
as his blood began leaking out of him and into the surrounding soil, was a
nine-year-old girl.
ÒJan!Ó Vlad cried. He inched forward, out the elevator door, his
wifeÕs hands still upraised, ready to strike him, though he was soon
beyond her reach. He walked up to the man lying on the ground. He saw
that the manÕs throat was slit. Blood came burbling from his neck. In her
hand, Jan held a knife.
ÒNice kill,Ó Vlad told the girl. He kicked the body again. ÒYou jump
pretty good, I guess,Ó he said.
ÒYeah, I guess,Ó Jan said.
ÒNot bad at hiding knives, either,Ó he said, looking again at what was
in the girlÕs hand. He thought she had come disarmed. And, if not, his wife
should have taken it from her.
ÒThey have them in the kitchen,Ó Jan said. Vlad looked at the house
theyÕd been using.
ÒOh yeah,Ó he said. He turned. ÒWell, keep it then,Ó he said. He
walked back toward the machine. After a moment he turned and looked
over his shoulder. ÒYou can come too,Ó he said.
ÒOkay,Ó Jan answered. She walked forward through the trees, Vlad
ahead of her. He reached the machine and Esmelda hissed,
ÒWhereÕd the little whore get the knife?Ó
ÒDid you ever consider that the hamburgers keep knives in their
kitchens?Ó Vlad asked her.
ÒAh,Ó Esmelda said. Contrary to the opinion of the hamburgers,
vampires were not the all-knowing, all-seeing creatures they often made
them out to be. They were quick, yes, and cunning was in their nature, but
they were, above all, not human. They were dead, yet animal-like, corpses
driven by instinct. Jan walked into the machine. Esmelda looked at her
knife, still dripping blood, leaving a trail all the way back to the man
sheÕd just slain.
ÒNice kill,Ó Esmelda said. Impatiently, she hit the button on the
machineÕs panel again that was supposed to make it leave. Still nothing
happened.
ÒWait!Ó Jan pleaded. She looked out into the darkness. The mist was
gathering again. It was the wraith-vampires. One materialized over the
dead man. Suddenly it lunged. It bit his neck. But the man was dead, and
the wraith-vampire recoiled from him.
ÒHeÕs dead!Ó Vlad called out.
ÒHeÕll come!Ó Jan said to Esmelda, meaning, of course, her wraith-
vampire boyfriend.
ÒWeÕll have to come back for him,Ó Vlad said. He motioned to the
button. ÒHit it again,Ó he told his wife.
ÒDid you put oil in the damn thing?Ó Esmelda asked her husband, a
sneer on her face. Vlad scowled.
ÒItÕs not a car,Ó he said. His wife hit the button again and suddenly
the machine, like some cranky infant awakened from a dream, shuddered.
All three of them tensed. And then they were gone, five billion years in
the future, leaving JanÕs boyfriend behind.
30
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