Nocturnal Page 10

  He walked out, turning off the light as he went. He grabbed his car keys on the counter on his way out.

  He also remembered his sunglasses.

  At barely past nine o’clock, the vampire pulled his Lexus into the pay lot at the corner of Tenth and E. As he killed the engine and got out, he knew he was still early. But as a child of the night, he loved reveling in it on occasion. With no attendant present, he dutifully stuffed a ten-dollar bill into a pay machine that resembled a miniature ATM. He sniffed, bemused that even a minimal effort, minimum wage job like Parking Lot Attendant could be phased out and replaced by a piece of technology.

  The machine hummed and clunked, and somewhere inside, plastic gears ground together. A ticket spat out into a compartment near the bottom, protected behind a small clear plastic shield. The vampire flipped the shield up and extracted the ticket, which was adorned with the large letters, THIS TICKET LIMITS OUR LIABILITY! A litany of legal jargon printed in a font so small even the vampire could not make it all out followed. The tiny tirade printed thereon claimed the lot owner was not responsible for any damages, and could not be held liable if your car was broken into, stolen, vandalized, or firebombed while parked in their lot. You assumed all risk parking there.

  Walking back to his car, the vampire wondered if such a generalized disclaimer would stand up to judicial scrutiny if a lawsuit ever made it to court. Probably not, he decided, but the company probably already knew that too. They’d settle out of court, complete with a bilateral non-disclosure agreement and a disclaimer stating that while agreeing a settlement, the company was admitting no wrongdoing or liability, whatsoever, now or in the future.

  He shook his head in disgust. No one stood behind their work, their product, their service anymore. Everyone – corporate or individual – was just looking for a way out in case something – anything! - went wrong.

  No one had the balls to accept responsibility for anything anymore.

  Back at his car, the vampire opened the door and leaned inside, placing the ticket on the dashboard in plain view. He did not want his car towed for nonpayment if he needed to make a hasty getaway later. As he pulled himself out of the car, he accidentally bumped his head on the doorframe, knocking his sunglasses off his face. He blinked in surprise as they clattered on the asphalt.

  Just at that moment, two young women, dressed provocatively even by today’s standards, emerged from their own car nearby. One, a pretty, plump redhead with curly hair and large breasts stuffed into tight clothing, looked his way. She gasped at his eyes.

  The vampire had already detected their heartbeats, and clearly heard her gasp from thirty feet away. He instinctively looked directly at her for an instant, always the predator, mouth thin and cruel. Then he averted his eyes and looked down.

  “Jesus, Leslie,” she said to her friend. “Did you see that?”

  “What?”

  “Look at that guy’s eyes!”

  Leslie, taller, slimmer, small breasts and darker hair, looked around. “What guy, Amy?”

  The vampire had already squatted down and was retrieving his sunglasses. He tucked his chin to hide his face and placed them on the edge of his nose while still squatting. Then he rose, using an upward push of his index finger to thrust them higher up on his nose and across his eyes as he stood up.

  “Those are sunglasses, silly,” Leslie chided her friend.

  Amy looked perplexed. She inhaled and opened her mouth, then said nothing. The vampire simply looked at them, then touched his finger to the side of his temple, a sort of half-salute. Then he smiled, careful to not show any teeth.

  Walking away, he picked up the rest of their conversation. No, there really was something wrong with his eyes, but Leslie had not seen it. Why wear sunglasses at night, Amy wondered. Leslie: Maybe so he’d look cool, or maybe so the cops wouldn’t stop him if he was high. Amy doubted that.

  Stopped at the corner by traffic, the vampire waited for the light to turn. Then he crossed, walking west on E Street, deeper into the Gaslamp. Most of the buildings here were over one hundred years old. Having been used for various industrial purposes, most had been rezoned and converted into pricey condos with ten-foot high ceilings and live/work lofts. They sold for mid to high six figures.

  The vampire had considered buying near here two years back, ultimately choosing to continue renting. Money was not the issue. At over eight feet tall, the windows, some of which faced west towards a setting sun, were simply too big. And since the vampire refused to sleep in a coffin, it was too big a risk.

  As he walked, he glanced upwards across the street. He saw a man, youngish, red hair and freckles, sitting in a fabric Director’s chair on the balcony of his condo. An open bottle of wine breathed on the tiny table beside him. The man brushed some breadcrumbs off his white shirt, gently, with the back of his first two fingers. He sniffed – which the vampire heard with clarity - and glanced downward from his perch.

  Their gazes met. The moment hung.

  The man smiled and waved. He raised a glass of wine and nodded in the vampire’s direction.

  The vampire grinned and waved back, casually, never breaking stride. He nodded upwards, returning the silent greeting. Nothing wrong with being polite, he thought.

  In fact, he often went out of his way to be polite, and always felt better doing it. One of the problems in the world today, the vampire felt, was a rather complete lack of old-fashioned manners. Oh sure, parents still taught their children the most rudimentary of perfunctories. “May I”, “please”, “sorry”, and of course, “thank you”. But these pleasantries nowadays served only as a function of what the children could get out of it themselves, not because it was the right thing to do.

  He crossed Ninth Street with the light. The old Public Library took up the entire block. Now closed, dark, and dusty, it still held reminiscence of its former art deco glory. Built in the early 1950’s, it had served the community well. The vampire himself has spent time there, reading newspapers from all over the country. Of course, that was in the days before the Internet. Technology made things more efficient, more sterile. But the satisfaction of pouring over real books, real newspapers had been left in the dust, just like the old library.

  The vampire felt a pang for something lost.

  A new library had been built at great expense. It had just opened, several blocks to the south near Petco Park, the baseball stadium where the San Diego Padres played and sometimes tried to win. At a total construction cost of one hundred eighty five million dollars, the library stood nine stories high, complete with a three-story entrance and lobby. A high school taught on floors six and seven. The high-domed structure was unique enough to change the skyline of downtown.

  The old Library had become a congregating place for the homeless. Some huddled together believing in the safety of numbers. Some preferred to move off by themselves. Sometimes solitude can bring its own sense of security. And either out of plain paranoia or out of bitter experience, they kept their shopping carts and wire baskets loaded up with all their worldly possessions close by. Anyone coming too close to their stuff alerted them, made their jaws set and their eyes go cold.

  “Hey Mister,” came a tiny voice. “Spare a dollar?”

  The vampire stopped and looked down. On the concrete, next to the section of rented portable chain link fencing that had been strung around the library to keep the homeless out, sat a young girl. Dirty, hungry, dark hair that had not been washed in weeks, from what he smelled. Desperation emanated from her. He also smelled blood, old and dried, but could not quite locate her wound. Senses tingling, he knew she was here through no fault of her own, that she had wound up here so fast she had no idea how it happened, or what to do about it.

  He dug a bill out of his pocket, kept it concealed inside his palm. He squatted down, getting closer to her. That’s when he placed the origin of her blood smell. She had been raped recently, and the dried blood still clung to her crotch and inner thighs.

  �
��You do not belong here,” he said.

  Tears formed at the corners of her eyes. “I got nowhere else to go.”

  He cocked his head slowly, looking down at her. Behind his glasses, he felt an unaccustomed emotion – compassion.

  “Yes, you do.” He took her hand, stood up, bringing her up with him. “ There is a hostel three blocks from here.”

  “I got no money.”

  “I do.”

  She grabbed what few ragged garments she had off the ground. Her eyes sparkled with gratitude. He nodded, keeping his own feelings in check. They started walking west, the way he had been moving in the first place.

  “So. Gonna get some of Rosie’s pussy tonight?”

  The taunt came from somewhere behind them and to the vampire’s left. The vampire spun around, instantly angry, zeroing in on a disgustingly dirty man with a balding head, grey, disheveled beard. Open sores dotted his cheeks and forehead. A bottle of cheap whiskey stayed clutched firmly in one hand. He wore a withering sneer across his lips. And what was that smell coming off of him?

  Something the vampire had smelled before.

  The vampire was on him in two strides. He grabbed the old man’s shirt and heavy jacket with one hand, and pushed HARD, lifting the bum off his feet. The vampire slammed him into the temporary fence with such force the entire block of fencing shuddered in response.

  “Hey.” The old guy put his hand up in front of him, a sign of surrender. “Chill out. You’ll like her. Trust me.”

  The familiar smell was Rosie’s blood. The vampire realized it emanated from his crotch. But the smell was tainted, a mixture of semen, urine, and filth.

  Seething with rage, he made sure Rosie was behind him. Then he snatched off his sunglasses and pushed his face within inches of the old geezer.

  He bared his fangs and hissed softly, like a serpent.

  The old man’s eyes bulged in an all-consuming fear. His bowels evacuated on the spot, brown grease sliding down the insides of his thighs. His entire world was filled with nothing but the face in front of him, a vision from hell itself – black eyes, animal teeth, and no mercy.

  The vampire, satisfied for the moment with the old man’s reaction, put his sunglasses back on and released his viselike grip. The geezer’s feet hit the ground with jarring force, sending pain shooting sharply up his shins.

  “See you later,” the vampire whispered.

  The vampire turned around and walked away, leaving the old geezer to drink from his bottle and realize he had no clean change of clothes. The vampire gently took Rosie by the arm and guided her along the sidewalk.

  The vampire had no idea what the city had planned for the old Library property. They’d probably raze the current structure, and build more condominium high rises. Such is the price of progress, he thought.

  They slowed as they approached the hostel’s entrance. Originally a brothel back in the late eighteen hundreds when prostitution was legal, the hostel boasted a small check- in area in front, with bathrooms and showers farther back, all on the first floor. A staircase near the back led upstairs to the second and third floors, where dorm style rooms slept four with wooden bunk beds.

  He opened the door and allowed Rosie to enter first. He closed the door behind him.

  A tall, rail thin young man stood behind the desk, situated to their left. His nametag announced him as Brian.

  “Good evening,” Brian opened. “May I help you?”

  “This is Rosie,” the vampire stated. “She’s new to San Diego, and will be leaving tomorrow.”

  Brian eyed her up and down, very skeptical. “Really?”

  “Yes,” the vampire said. “I would very much like to pay for a room for her.”

  “Well, we don’t usually just “rent” rooms to people off the streets,” Brian said.

  The vampire’s smile faded a bit. “Is that right?”

  “We need to see either a Government – issued I.D., or a foreign passport, and documentation of future travel.”

  The vampire turned his head towards Rosie, who silently pulled a faded, crumpled Nevada driver’s license. She handed it over to Brian. He looked at it, still unsure if this was all on the up and up.

  “And documentation of future travel?”

  The vampire’s grin returned. He stepped closer, leaned on the desk. “That is where we could use some help, Brian,” he said. “She needs to get home to....”

  Brian glanced at the driver’s license. “Reno?”

  “Reno!” the vampire echoed. “Of course. Now, this place looks pretty modern. I bet you’ve got computers and Wi-Fi here, yes?”

  Brian nodded.

  “Outstanding,” the vampire clapped his hands together and smiled. Brian thought he saw a hint of long, sharp teeth. Suddenly, he just wanted to get this over with, and get this guy out of here.

  “I need you to help her buy either a bus or a train ticket back to Reno. You print out a copy of her itinerary, and poof! You have documentation of future travel.”

  “Sir, this is highly irregular.”

  “I am certain it is,” the vampire replied. “I shall make it worth your while.” He reached into his pocket, and produced a thick wad of neatly folded money. They appeared to be all one hundred dollar bills.

  Brian’s eyes grew wide. His jaw dropped just a little.

  The vampire slid two bills across the desktop. “This should cover her stay tonight, some food for her, and her ticket price for tomorrow, yes?”

  Stunned, Brian stuttered. “P..pr..probably, yes.”

  The vampire pushed another hundred-dollar bill across the desktop. “Let us make certain, shall we?

  Brian nodded emphatically.

  “Good. Now, whatever is left over from this,” he pointed at the money, “you give her every penny of it. Understand?”

  “Sure.”

  “Good.” The vampire peeled off two more bills. He reached out across the countertop and stuffed the bills into Brian’s shirt pocket.

  “All of this stays between us, yes?”

  Brian nodded.

  Brian was telling the truth, and the vampire knew it. Lies had a smell to them, just like sin and death. Evil exuded a scent, a scent he could pick up, identify, and locate. And if he could touch the particular person, similar to how he touched Brian when he put the money in his shirt pocket, he could see into their very souls. No lies, nothing hidden.

  The vampire still did not know if this ability of his was a blessing or a curse. He had seen a lot of sinful things that, once seen, could never be unseen. And he carried those memories around with him in his head, like a perverted video loop.

  He turned to Rosie. “Look, Rosie. You are going to be fine now.”

  She reached out and touched the cool skin of his arm. Instantly, his mind flooded with an image of her home in Reno. Nice place. Middle class, near a park and a school, nothing fancy. A mother and father sick with worry, sick with grief, sick with regret of angry words harshly said. Incredulity and remorse that they had actually pushed her that hard, that she’d actually leave. That they’d wake up one morning, and their baby was simply.... gone.

  “Don’t leave me,” she said, her plaintive words bringing him back to the present.

  He patted her hand. “This is where you and I part ways.” He noticed the disappointed look on her face. “Brian is going to make sure you’re provided for.” He spoke up. “Right, Brian?

  “Right, sir!”

  She leaned in and whispered, “Well, I thought maybe we could.. you know.”

  He understood immediately shat she meant. She intended to pay him back for his kindness. He chose his words carefully. “I have.... well, I have a condition for which there is no cure.”

  Rosie’s look of shock and sadness nearly warmed the walking corpse’s long dead heart. “Is it.... contagious?”

  The vampire chuckled. “No.” There was really nothing more he cared to say.

  Rosie had to let that sink in a moment. Then she nodded her und
erstanding of the situation. “Thank you. For helping me, I mean.”

  “You are quite welcome.”

  “Why are you doing this? Why help me, of all people?”

  “Because one time, a long time ago, I was like you. In a bad place. Bad decisions. And because of it, I became... what I am now.” He paused, a rare moment of real emotion rising within him. “I wanted to give you something I never got – a second chance. But it is up to you to do something with it. ”

  Rosie threw her arms around him and hugged him tight. He hugged her back.

  “Thank you.” Tears spilled down her cheeks.

  He smiled, under control again, and took a step back. “You want to thank me? Go home. Your parents love you. They miss you. They are worried sick about you.”

  She looked frightened. “How do you know for sure?”

  “Trust me,” he replied. “Go home. Enroll in school. Build a life for yourself. No one is going give it to you. It is okay to ask for help once in a while when you need it. And everyone needs help now and then. But no one hands you anything in this world. The world does not owe you anything. You have to do the grunt work on your own.”

  She nodded. She had heard this speech before, but this time, where she was, in front of his mysterious man who wanted only to help her and expected nothing in return, the lesson finally sank in.

  Satisfied, the vampire gave one last look over Brian’s way. Brian said nothing. “Keep your word to me.. Make sure she is out of this city tomorrow.” He paused for effect. “If not, I will come back. It will not be pleasant.”

  Brian shuddered involuntarily at the thought of this person coming back. The vampire grinned slightly.

  And then, the vampire was out the door. Melting into the distance, swallowed up by the crowds on the sidewalk, he disappeared into the night.

  Like he had never been there at all.

  But it would be several more minutes before Brian’s pulse dropped back down to a normal rate and rhythm.