30 Days of Night: Light of Day (25 page)

“You keep saying ‘we,’ ” the one named Larry said. “What do you mean? Who else is with you?”

Walker jabbed a thumb over his shoulder. “Me and Mitch here.”

Larry peered past Walker. “What are you talking about? There’s nobody there,” he said. “Just you.”

Walker spun around. Mitch stood there, right in front of the door, but he had a strange half-smile on his face and his eyes were sad. “Dude, he’s right here!”

“They’re not buying it, man,” Mitch said.

Larry kept his hand on Walker’s shoulder. His grip was strong, his fingers like rebar rods. When he spoke his voice was soft, tinged with concern. “I think maybe you have some problems that being undead won’t solve, Walker.”

“I don’t know what you mean! Are you blind or something? He’s right …”

Mitch shrugged, but he seemed less substantial than he had a moment before.

“Mitch, for Christ’s sake! Tell them you’re there!”

Larry’s hand pressed on his shoulder like a five-ton
weight. Streams of sweat rushed down Walker’s sides and coated his upper lip; he tasted salt. His legs were rubber, barely supporting his bulk.

“There’s no one there, son,” Larry said.

“You’re seeing things,” someone else offered.

“No, I’m not! Mitch and I … he’s my best friend!” Hot tears stung Walker’s cheeks. Mitch had faded more. He blinked back to full life and color for an instant, then faded again, until he wasn’t much more than a shadow covering part of the door.

Walker didn’t understand. Mitch was flickering in and out, as if a strobe light was flashing on him. He had known Mitch for … well, he couldn’t remember how long. Mitch was his best friend.

His only friend, really.

And if Mitch didn’t exist, then …

… then fuck, he didn’t know. He just didn’t know.

Walker shut his eyes. When he opened them again, this would all be some nightmare. He would have fallen asleep at the computer, and Mitch would be sitting in the other chair, and none of it would be real, all the craziness with Andy and vampires would never have happened. Maybe he’d still be in high school, in bed with a pillow wrapped around his head because he didn’t want to get up, didn’t want to hear the alarm or Mom’s screech telling him he’d be late, didn’t want to face the taunts and insults from the guys, the looks of disapproval or disgust from the girls. Maybe he would be in grade school, before he had understood that he would
always be the fat kid, the unpopular kid, the guy other kids pointed at, laughing.

And he opened his eyes.

And he was in Room 14 of a motel closed so long he didn’t know its name, a joint he had passed a thousand times and never thought about until a few days ago, inside a room where people fucked strangers, where emotions ran more toward loneliness, even hate, than love. He knew what that was like, and the loneliness seemed to collapse in around him even though he wasn’t alone, he was here with a dozen or so people—no, not people,
vampires,
that smell surrounded him still, and he knew now that some of it was him, the flop sweat sticking his shirt to his fleshy ribs.

They were vampires, the undead, and he was not, and Mitch wasn’t real, had never been real. His life was awful, so sad and lonely that he had made up a friend who was closer to him than anyone had ever been. Terrible clarity shone on him like a spotlight.

“Look,” Walker said. “I … I guess I made a mistake. Some mistakes. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bring you here under false pretenses. I never meant to lie or—”

“It’s okay, Walker,” Larry interrupted. “You do want to be a vampire, right? One of us?”

“I … I thought I did, but—”

“I can take care of that, Walker.
It’s easy
.
”
That iron grip clutched Walker’s shoulder again, making Walker feel like crying out, but he wanted to maintain some
measure of his dignity, even though the front of his pants felt hot and wet and tears had laid down tracks from cheeks to chin. Larry leaned in close and his teeth were terrible, his face hideous, monstrous, his open mouth stinking like a vat of slow-simmering meat in a slaughterhouse. A lazy fly came to a brief landing on Larry’s lower lip, then took off again. “The thing is,” Larry said quietly, “I’ve never turned anyone yet. You’ve never been turned and I haven’t turned anyone. We can help each other, okay?”

Walker wanted to run away, wanted to scream, wanted to drive his thumbs into his eye sockets and force his eyes from his head so he wouldn’t have to look at the monsters anymore.

But it was too late for that. Anyway, his life was nothing he wanted to return to. Like Mitch had said— Mitch who wasn’t, who had never existed outside of his own head, but was still better than nothing—Mitch had told him:
Out is out, right? Done is done.

“Y-yeah,” Walker said. “We can … we can help each other.” He tilted his head back. “You want my neck? Is that how it works?”

M
ARINA WATCHED THE DOOR
close behind the last guy to go in. This one had been a fat guy, young, and something hadn’t seemed right about him.

What was worse was that two cars had pulled up right behind him, only the occupants of those cars hadn’t gotten out, they just sat inside watching the motel with as much interest as she was. Their cars were American-made sedans. One guy sitting alone in one, a man and a woman in the other.

“Jesus,” she said. “Are those cops?”

“Look like it to me,” Monte said.

“What are they doing on Greenbarger?”

“They didn’t come with Greenbarger,” Tony O. said. “They followed that last guy in.”

“God, this is getting all fucked up,” Marina said. “Larry’s in there, and then all those bloodsuckers from the RV, now some chubbo, and the local law’s on his ass.”

“We knew it’d be crowded,” Kat reminded her. “All those emails about the Light of Day.”

“Yeah, but I thought we’d be able to handle it by ourselves. I didn’t know the freakin’
gendarmerie
would be along for the ride.”

“Maybe they can help.”

“Maybe they can blow me before they get hurt. I’m going to talk to them.”

“You want backup?” Jimbo asked.

“I think I can manage.” She took off her night vision goggles and got out of the van. She had to wait for a couple of trucks to barrel past before she could cross the street. Place was supposed to be good for a quiet meet, but only compared to the track at the Daytona 500.

She went to the car with the single occupant. Maybe he was the boss. He spotted her coming and got out before she reached the vehicle. He was tall and rangy and he looked as happy as a funeral. Marina was reaching for her badge when he showed his.

“Chicago PD,” he said. “I’m Detective Alex Ziccaria.”

“FBI. Special Agent Marina Tanaka-Dunn.”

“This is federal?”

“You have no idea.”

Doors opened in the other car, then shut again with a bang. “Can you keep your people under control?” Marina asked.

“They’re not my people. What are you doing here? This is a Chicago PD/Cook County joint task force. We’ve got a serial killer suspect in there, and—”

“You have no idea what you’ve got in there, Detective.” Remembering her cop manners, she added, “All due respect.”

“What do you mean?”

Marina looked toward the east. A band of pewter showed at the horizon. Daylight soon. The bloodsuckers would either come out in a hurry and get into their vehicles, or they would be trapped inside the room.

Unless that whole Light of Day process Larry had been promising worked. The thing had hit the internet during the night, spreading like mad. Operation Red-Blooded researchers were all over it, trying to figure out if it had any legitimacy, and if it did what they could do to counter it, take the links down.

Killing Larry Greenbarger wouldn’t stop it, not anymore.

But that didn’t mean it wouldn’t feel good.

“Look, Detective, that information is classified. Way above your pay grade. Why don’t you just get in your car and—”

“What’s going on, Alex?” The female cop, small and fit, with short blond hair, strode toward them. Behind her came a muscular, thick-necked guy who looked about as solid and smart as a brick wall.

“That’s my partner, Larissa Dixson,” Alex said. “Behind her is Greg Fielding from Tinley Park.”

Marina badged her before she got any closer. “This is a Bureau operation, Detectives. I’m going to have to ask you to roll out.”

“We’re not giving up our suspect,” Larissa said. “We’ve got half a dozen corpses, and we’re going to have to talk to him.”

“Was there anything unusual about those corpses?” Marina asked.

“Unusual? What do you—”

“Yes or no? You’d know it if it was there.”

Alex rubbed his forehead, as if he had a bad headache. “The blood,” he said. “They were drained of blood.”

“There you go.”

“You know about that?” Greg Fielding asked.

“Like I told Detective Ziccaria here, there are levels of classification on this sort of op. I can’t talk to you about it.”

“Have you been on this for a while?” Larissa asked. “Why weren’t we informed? If we had a known serial killer in our city, we should have been told.”

“That’s even above
my
pay grade,” Marina said. “Look, this is under control.” She waved a hand toward her van. “I’ve got a strike team in there. Nobody’s walking away from that motel room unless they’re in handcuffs.”

“We can stick around,” Greg said. “Offer support.”

“I have all the support I need.”

“But—”

Anger flared through Marina and she let it show. “Look, standing out here arguing might just compromise a Bureau operation and blow months of work! Any of you want to take the heat for that?”

“Let’s step away, Larissa.”

“That’s a good idea. You should listen to Detective Ziccaria.”

“This isn’t over,
Special Agent
Tanaka-Dunn. I’m making a call. I’ll get the mayor of Chicago on the line if I have to, but we’re part of this until it’s over.”

“Is that how it is?” Marina asked. “You want to see whose dick is biggest? Because I guarantee you—”

“I’m just telling you.”

“Fine. Make your call. But not from here. I want you off this block before I arrest you for obstruction.”

“Let’s go, Larissa.”

Larissa Dixson looked at Alex, and then she looked at Greg. Marina saw at once what was going on, but it was personal between the three of them and she couldn’t help saying it. “Go,” she said. “Go with your partner or the guy you’re sleeping with, but get off this street.”

Larissa gave her a murderous expression, but she got into Alex’s car. Greg hesitated a moment, then walked back to his alone and slammed the door.

Child,
Marina thought, cringing at the loud bang.
Willing to blow the whole thing just to make a point.

Both cars started up and cruised slowly to the corner, then around it. Marina had no doubt that they were already calling their superiors, and those people would call their superiors, and on up the chain of command.

She hurried back to the van, pulling her own phone as she did. She had programmed Senator Bobby Harlowe’s numbers in. Home, cell, and office.

Chicago’s mayor would find that she had allies, too. Mayors were a big deal on the local level, and
Chicago’s mayor probably had the president’s number on his phone. But so did Bobby Harlowe. And Bobby Harlowe sat on the Homeland Security and Appropriations committees. If it became a contest of length, his honor the mayor would find that Bobby carried a tape measure.

When she finished her call, she put the phone away and turned to her people. “Suit up,” she said. “We’re going to go kick some ass.”

“There are a bunch of ’em in there,” Monte pointed out.

“That just makes it harder to miss.”

“How do you wanna handle it?”

“Handle it? I want to kick open the door and fill the place with UV and phosphorus. I want to smell vampire barbecue. Clear enough for you?”

“Clear as day,” Monte said. “Sorry, bad metaphor. Simile. Whatever, I barely passed English.”

“I don’t care if you only speak ancient Greek,” Marina said. “Long as you can handle a gun.”

“H
ELP ME FIRST,”
Larry said. “I wasn’t anticipating such a crowd, and I have to inoculate everyone.”

“Not everyone,” the one who had introduced himself as Rocco said firmly. “Sun’s almost up. Start with one or two and we’ll see how they do, then if everything’s okay you can do the others.”

“Any way you want it,” Larry said. “I know you’ll be happy, though. I distributed the formula online, too. Any vampire who wants it can re-create it easily now.”

“Has it been thoroughly tested?”

“Tested enough. It works.”

“How can I help?” Walker asked.

“Apparently I’m not injecting everyone just yet. I’d like you to be conscious to help me when I do, though. Then you’ll have earned your way, and I’ll be glad to turn you.”

“Do me,” Shiloh pleaded. “I want you to do me!”

“How many times have you said that?” Chip asked. “Millions?”

“Bite me.”

“I think you’ve used that one too,” Brick said.

Shiloh raised her middle finger toward both, and laughed. Then she caressed Rocco’s arm. “Can I?”

“It’s safe?” Rocco asked Larry.

“It’s safe. Look, you’ve got me way outnumbered. If I’m wrong, you’ll tear me apart.”

“Got that right.”

“So I’m staking everything on it.”

“Staking?” Brick repeated. “Word choice, dawg.”

“Sorry.”

“Can I, Rocco?” Shiloh asked again.

Rocco gave her a concerned look that would have sickened the old Larry Greenbarger, human Larry, because he would have known that a woman like her would never look to
him
for guidance or protection.

Now, in this new unlife, everything was different. Who knew what he would have when word of his discovery spread? Vampire females might flock to him like some sort of undead George Clooney.

“I suppose,” Rocco said. He sounded reluctant, as if he still didn’t quite trust Larry but didn’t want to deprive her of something she wanted so much.

“Very well,” Larry said. “Will there be anyone else?”