The Source (16 page)

Tucker suggests, "Maybe
one day when we have more time we can come back."

I shift uncomfortably
in my seat.  Abe responds, "I want to do that.  I'm interested to know
more information about the case and see where the bodies were actually
found."

Tucker looks at me.
"Are you game?"

I keep my eyes on the
road while occasionally glancing back at Abe in the rearview mirror.  After a
few breaths I say, "Why would I need to go?"

"You might know
more about why the miners would have reacted the way that they did.  You
definitely would know more than me and Abe."

"Maybe, but
everything would just be assumption," I say.

"It's better
than what we have now," Abe remarks, "and maybe it could lead to some
real answers about what happened."

I shake my head.
"There is no need to go messing with things like this just to satisfy your
curiosity.  It always kills the cat, remember?"

"You're
afraid," Tucker states.

I grip the steering
wheel. "I'm not afraid.  I'm just cautious and practical."

"Cautious and
practical are the roadblocks to greatness," Abe murmurs.

We pull into the
facility parking lot and I stop the car.  "Look, cautious and practical
keeps you alive.  We have a very specific job here in Rowan, which does not
include poking around at an abandoned mine with cryptic writing on the wall. 
Sometimes when you look for answers, you don't like what you find.  And at that
point, it's too late to do anything about it.  Better to leave well enough
alone."

Abe gets out of the
car and leans back in, "Some of the worst tragedies in human history could
have been stopped if someone would have cared enough to look for
answers."  He shuts the door and walks to the back of the parking lot.

I sigh then look at
Tucker. "Well, what do you have to say?"

He smiles a little.
"I agree with Abe.  But I also agree with you.  I think there is more to
why the miners left.  I think they know more about what's going on, but I don't
think they'll talk about it.  At least not with me, a longhaired guy from New
York.  Regardless of how long I've lived here."

He holds my gaze for
several moments. "Just think about it."

"Consider it
considered."

Tucker walks to his
car.  I push on the gas and speed out of the parking lot in an attempt to
outrun the nightmares.  I'll have to let Tucker know how that works out for me.

When I return to the
research suite a couple of hours later, the room is completely empty.  There is
no sign that Rick or Ms. Montgomery have been around yet this evening, which
leaves me to my own devices for the beginning of the work night. 

I go to the storage
cabinet and get the specimen containers and set them on the center island.  I
begin turning around in a circle trying to determine where I could find a
microscope.  From overhead I hear a buzzing sound followed by crackling.  I
look up at the ceiling waiting for the world to come tumbling on top of me
before I hear Ms. Montgomery's voice, "Microscopes can be located in the
lower cabinets of the center island."

Scowling, I continue
looking up at the ceiling. "Okay, that's just creepy.  Where are you and
how did you know what I was thinking?"

"I'm in the
observation room.  You were advised that you would be observed by several
methods, including being recorded.  The observation room is where the recording
equipment is housed."

I keep looking over
the ceiling, turning before waving at the ceiling. "Okay, thanks." 
Gazing at my upraised hand I realize just how ridiculous I must look.  I try to
nonchalantly run that hand through my hair as I walk around the center island
to open the lower cabinets.  As I am getting the microscope out, I hear the
door to the suite open and close.  I straighten up just far enough for my head
to peak over the island to see Rick looking around the room.  "I'm over
here."

Jerking back around
he says, "Jesus, vampires can get startled too, you know."

I stand, "Sorry,
was just getting the microscope."  I lift it to prove that I have no ill
intent.

Rick walks to the
center island and picks up one of the specimen containers.  He turns it around
in his hands before saying, "So what exactly is this and how did you get
it?"

I relay the story of
what happened with Thalia and how four of her fingers were cut off for the
purpose of our experiment.  He just nods as he sets the container down and
claps his hands.  "Good.  Now we're going to use the microscope to try to
determine what?"

I just stare at him
in complete shock.  "Good?"  I set the microscope on the counter. 
"I'm surprised that you would think anything about this is good."

I can see Rick
grinding his jaw as he rests his hands on the island and leans forward,
"It upsets me to see senseless vampire deaths.  But make no mistake about it;
I have no sympathy for a vampire who murders in cold blood.  We both heard why
Thalia is locked up."  He shakes his head. "Losing a few fingers is
merciful compared to what I would like to do her."

I take a step back,
"Okay, Rick.  I knew you were passionate about certain things, but I
didn't know that you were capable of such violence.  I thought you said it was
something that you would only do when you thought necessary, like to protect
yourself.  Was that just bullshit?"

Rick lowers his head,
his fingers picking at something on the marble top of the island. 
"Remember when we talked about how there could be a special bond created
between a vampire and a human?  And you said that it sounded like I was
speaking from experience?"  He looks up at me, "Do you
remember?"

I nod.

"It was the
1980s.  Her name was Serenity.  We met at CBGB's in New York.  The Cramps were
playing that night."  He gets a wistful look in his eyes as he continues
talking.  "There have been multiple subcultural movements within the U.S.
that have allowed vampires to easily blend in with humans.  Punk, New Wave,
Goth, Emo.  Any time there has been a group of young people embracing the
peculiar to express themselves, vampires have been there.  It was easy.  With
the way everyone else looked and behaved, no one questioned us or thought us
out of place.  Heroin chic was particularly nice because we didn't even have to
worry about explaining puncture wounds."  He smiles, "We always kept
our identities secret.  We would only reveal ourselves to someone
special."

He leans back and
relaxes more while resting against the center island. 

“Serenity was there
partying with a group of friends.  They were having a good time, enjoying the
music, enjoying the alcohol.  She was one of the most beautiful girls I had
ever seen.  She was wearing a ripped black t-shirt, black jean shorts with
black studded bracelets and a leather collar to match.  Her hair was blond and
in complete disarray, like it had been a while since it had seen a comb.  She
wore no make-up except for black eyeliner and lip-gloss that made her lips
shine like a brand new toy covered in candy-coated goodness.  I wanted to play
with her.”  He smiled. “My intent was to enjoy her for as long as I could.  But
after the debauchery of that night, things changed.”

“Thank you for not
going into detail about that,” I say as I cross my arms against my stomach.

He looks up at me
with a grin tugging at the side of his mouth. “I am many things, one of which
is a gentleman of sorts.  Details are for the disrespectful.”

I tilt my head in
appreciation before he continues, “In talking to her, I found that she had an
understanding of life that I had never seen in another human.  She knew just
how precious it was, that it’s a gift that could be taken away when you least
expect it and should be fully cherished and enjoyed for that reason.   I know
many people express those words, but very few actually
feel
it, actually
live
by it.  Serenity
did.”  He shakes his head as if to this day he couldn’t believe it.  “Because
of that I found her to be the most exotic of beauties.  I fell in love.  For a
vampire on the prowl, I guess it was a mistake.  Not falling in love, but
actually talking to her, talking to my prey.  She didn’t just give me her
blood.  She showed me her soul.  I was completely lost at that point.”

“She let you drink
from her?  She knew you were a vampire?  Didn’t she freak out?”  I ask.

“Hardly.  With the
crazy shit that was going on at that time, it wasn’t surprising to her.  Sorry
for the language.”  He smiles sheepishly.  “To help things for me even more,
the New Age movement had been gaining speed in the bigger cities.  Interest in
the occult was everywhere and many people began believing the old ‘myths.’  So,
learning those myths were true only validated their beliefs, rather than
shocking them into defense.  It wasn’t that way everywhere, but definitely much
more so in New York at that time.  The punk crowd wasn’t too much into
believing much of anything, but the nightlife was weird enough that no one
questioned it.  So, I prowled, I preyed...and I fell in love.”

I step closer to the
island, “What happened to her?”

His head drops down as
his fingers tense, curling against his palms, forming half-fists.  “Not all
vampires appreciated the bond that we could develop with a human.  Some were
even outright against it, calling it an abomination for our kind.  The common
feeling in this group was that you didn’t fall in love with your food.”  He
makes an exasperated sound as he pushes away from the island and begins pacing
the floor.  “Word got around with other vampires that I had a ‘pet’ human, that
I was seen with the same one all of the time.  Given our secrecy then, even
those who weren’t against the bonding per se wanted nothing to do with those
type of relationships as they could out us all.  It was considered too risky.” 
He looks at me, his hands thrust out in the closest thing to defeat that I’ve
ever seen on a man.  “Love doesn’t consider these things.”

He paces more as he
runs both of his hands through his hair, slightly tugging.  His pain is so palpable
that I can feel it lodge in the back of my throat, making it difficult for me
to swallow.

Struggling to keep
back the tears, he chokes as he continues, “A group of the more extreme
vampires decided that something must be done.  Not only did they hate the idea
of mixing with humans, they used the fear of being exposed to get support from
the calmer vamps of the community.  I tried to protect Serenity by laying low,
keeping out of sight.  We should have just left New York because it got to the
point where it seemed like every vampire was hunting us.”  He forces a laugh.
“It’s kind of funny that depending on the time and who’s telling the story, we
give this type of behavior certain names, when a group of people take violent
action to protect their identity, their way of life.  In the 1960s and 1970s we
would have called them freedom fighters...in the 1980s, gangs...in the 1990s,
guerillas...the year 2001 gave us terrorists.”  He shakes his head, “Regardless
of what label you put on it, people died while others were left heart-broken.”

He turns his back to
me as his shoulders turn in toward his chest.  He stands there quietly for
several moments.  I feel like I am experiencing the hurt with him and want to
comfort him, at least for a little while.  I start to slowly walk around the
center island when he whips around, rage contorting his face. “They did it
during the day while I was sleeping.  They had paid some guys to kidnap her. 
Probably drug addicts needing money for a score.  It was easy to do in New York
in the eighties.  Just flash some cash and a junkie would do just about
anything.”  He shook his head. “She had gone out to do some shopping.  She knew
that she couldn’t be seen, so she wore a disguise.  Somehow, some way, they
knew it was her.”  He moves toward me, his stride like a stalking panther. 
“They caught her outside of a boutique in SoHo.  They kidnapped her, the
vampires ravaged her, then left her in an alley.” 

He stands right
before me, leaning in closely with a menacing look in his eyes.  I grip the
side of the island, trying not to be afraid because I know it is his pain showing.

After several moments
of his eyes darting back and forth as if he were watching a horror movie
unravel before him, he says, “When the police found her, it was ruled a
drug-related killing.  They had found what they said were pieces of crack on
her chest, but I knew better.  What they found was actually the remains of a
vampire that had died from sun exposure, the dried pieces of flesh. The pools
of blood were ruled to be from the struggle of a deal gone bad.  Crack
addiction was so rampant that the police didn’t even bother to check into the
finer details.  But I knew.  It was a message about what would happen next. 
What the punishment for cavorting with humans would be.”

His jaw ticks as he
stares at me.  Suddenly his fists slam against the top of the island.  “
That
is why this project
is so important to me. 
That
is why it’s so hard
for me to see footage of vampires dying in the sun.”  He grabs my shoulders, his
fingers digging into my skin. “And
that
is why I don’t give a FUCK about what
happens to Thalia.”