The Source (31 page)

The corner of his mouth turns up in a half smile. “Don’t
feel guilty for having a great mind. That’s your gift to humanity. Feel badly
that people and vampires have to act the way they do so that it makes
government-funded projects like this necessary.”

I look at him, in awe of what he is saying, the
perspective he is imparting to me that I’m unsure I would have ever noticed.

 He continues, “If it weren’t for criminal behavior
coupled with violent discrimination, we wouldn’t be making these decisions.
Place the blame where it’s deserved. Not on yourself.”

Before I can think of the repercussions, I lean
forward and wrap my arms around his abdomen in a tight embrace. I lay my face
against his chest as he slowly encircles me with his arms. “Thank you,” I
murmur against him. He leans back a bit to look down at me. I meet his gaze,
“For giving me a different way to look at things. For a different explanation,
a different focus. It makes more sense then just trying to laugh at
everything.” My fingers clinch against his back as wetness fills the corners of
my eyes.

He smiles then whispers, “My pleasure, Emma.”

I sniffle then lean away from him, resting against the
island again. “Okay, let’s develop this delivery system and schedule a
demonstration for all of the project teams. I just wish we had more time.”

“Why do you say that?” he asks.

“Well, think about it,” I begin my thought-process
pacing. “We’ve developed something that can be sprayed onto a vampire, sort of
like mace or pepper spray. The goal was to come up with a solution to the
criminal element in the vampire population and prevent human deaths. Just like
mace and pepper spray, it all depends on having it readily available and making
sure that you hit your target. Many times you have to be at a closer range to
hit that target, and many people don’t want to get that close to a vampire.”

He turns, looking at me. “Okay, fair enough. But it is
a solution that will work. We can improve upon the delivery later.”

I shrug, “I just wish we could come up with
something…I don’t know. Almost like birth control. Vampire birth control or
human death control or whatever. Something that humans can ingest, inject or
even wear a patch so that when a vampire bites, BOOM, vampire salsa.”

He stares at me with a cool expression on his face.
Suddenly feeling like I’m under a microscope, I cross my arms over my chest,
hugging myself tightly.

“Sorry. Inappropriate humor again. But you get what
I’m saying. Besides, who’s to say that we’ll get a chance to improve the
delivery system later? They’ll probably just take over the project and do what
they want with it anyway.”

He walks over to me and gently rests his hands on my
upper arms. With the lines on his face softening. “If FOHVA is just going to do
what it wants with the project, then why not just finish it now with what we have?
We can each take our fifty thousand dollars and walk away. Or we can debate and
spend more time on perfecting a solution that already works, while another team
comes up with an equally workable idea.”

I feel my lips pout as I hug myself tighter, his
fingers gently rubbing up and down my arms. I suddenly feel like a spastic
child who is being comforted by the compassionate parent. Who just happens to
have fangs.

The sound of “Somewhere Over the Rainbow” begins
lightly playing. Rick cocks an eyebrow at me as I step back away from him. I
pull my cell phone from my pocket as he laughs under his breath, his eyes
glistening with amusement.

“It’s a local number, but I don’t know who would be
calling me.” I walk to the front of the suite to talk on my phone in
semi-private. It’s Officer Davis, hopefully with some good news.

I halfway notice Rick leave the room while I discuss
the graffiti incident at my apartment. Unfortunately the Rowan police do not
have any real leads and it’s unlikely that we’ll ever know who was responsible,
just like I had feared yesterday.

I put my phone back in my pocket and sit at the table
near the door to clear my mind in the blissful silence. Who knows if Tucker was
the one who left the message painted across my apartment door? My gut tells me
it was him, but I could be wrong. I’ll probably never know. I just hope that I
never run into him again. And if I do, I hope I’m not alone.

Rick returns with a box full of supplies. He lays the
box on the table, tubes sticking out of the top. It’s as if they are plastic
fingers pointing in accusation at us, but I resolve not to think too much about
that.

“Any news?” he asks.

“Nothing good,” I reply, “except for the fact that
Tucker has skipped town.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Officer Davis said that given the recent, um,
argument between us that they wanted to question him. When they arrived at his
apartment, everything was packed up and gone. I guess no one has seen him since
he was relieved of his duties as an archivist.”

Rick hums in thought. “That’s not necessarily good
news, though. Just because we don’t know where he is doesn’t mean that he has
skipped town. He could still be around somewhere, hiding out. Especially if he
is the one that vandalized your apartment.”

“Gee, thanks. As if I needed
more
reason to
look over my shoulder.”

“If it makes you feel better, I’ll stay with you while
you’re in Rowan so you won’t ever be alone.” He smiles at me sympathetically.
At least I hope it’s sympathy and not fatherly. Or in Rick’s case,
grandfatherly.

“Thanks. What’s in the box?”

He taps the sides of the box with his fingers. “I’ve
got everything we need to build a rudimentary, dual delivery system. I also got
us the other chemicals that we need to go along with the vitamin D powder.”

We walk back to the center island where Rick begins to
empty the contents of the box in an orderly, organized way. I hesitate
momentarily before asking another question. I just don’t want Rick to basically
tell me to get over my misplaced morality over the project.

“Um, with Thalia gone, where will we find another
subject for the demonstration?”

He looks up at me. “Just like there is no shortage of
human criminals, there is no shortage of vampire criminals. I’m sure there are
more in the holding cells in the other building.”

“There are more holding cells than the one that Thalia
was in?”

“Quite a few. There’s an entire makeshift prison in
the lower levels of that building. It’s one of the only facilities in the U.S.
that has been able to successfully imprison vampires.”

I look down at all of the equipment that now patterns
the counter top. Various thoughts, both curious and morbid, race through my
mind as if they’re trying to see which comes out of my mouth first.

“How many?” I ask.

“How many cells?” he responds.

“No, how many vampires.”

He cocks his head to the side as he watches me,
probably waiting for an Emma-style righteousness meltdown to ensue. After a few
moments he says, “Enough. I don’t know the exact number, but there are quite a
few. Unfortunately many of my kind have a complete disregard for human life.”

I nod in acceptance, restraining the pull in my
abdomen that urges me to protest. “I guess that’s understandable considering
how many
humans
have a complete disregard for human life.”

Switching gears, Rick motions to the items he has
systematically laid on the counter top. “Making the delivery system is really
simple. We just need this split container, much like your everyday sport
bottle. We put the vitamin D, diluted with water on one side and the saline,
alcohol and formaldehyde on the other side. We then just use the plastic tubing
and springs to make a trigger system on the top of the container. When the
trigger is squeezed, the mixture will be forced from the container and like you
said, BOOM, vampire salsa.”

I jerk my head to look at him as he smiles
enthusiastically at me. “And here I thought you were upset by that comment.”

“Only if it were an undeserving vampire. Or if I were
wearing an expensive suit at the time. Then I’d be really pissed.”

I actually guffaw. “Now who’s making inappropriate
jokes?”

“Well, I figure laughing is better than the
alternative,” he explains.

“I’m glad you’re finally seeing things my way,” I
counter.

He leans toward me, with an almost menacing look in
his eyes. “Not in everything, Dr. Burcham.”

With a spurt of nerve, I punch him in the shoulder.
“Right. We still disagree on what is best to have for dinner, and I don’t think
either of our opinions will change any time soon.”

He laughs heartily. “If only the entire project had
held such mirth.”

I smile brightly at him. “I guess we need to schedule
the demonstration since putting the delivery system together won’t take that
long.”

A buzzing sound erupts above us before Gwen says, “I
just notified Mr. Caulfield. The conference room will be ready for the
demonstration within an hour.”

Looking up at the ceiling I say, “Well, I guess that
part’s done. Thanks, Gwen.”

Loud buzzing again. “You’re welcome, Emma.”

I look back at Rick who nods at me, “One hour, then
it’s show time.”

Yay?

We arrive at the conference room several minutes
early. The dual distribution system that Rick built worked flawlessly, even if
it did look like something that was most likely held together with duct tape.

The other researchers and archivists start coming in
and finding their seats. Three seats are set on the stage behind the podium,
presumably for me, Rick and Gwen. They hadn’t brought the “test subject” in
yet, which makes my stomach feel like a sickening well of anticipation, getting
deeper with each passing moment.

Gwen takes a seat on the stage as Rick sets our box of
demonstration supplies behind the podium. I continue to watch the door as
people arrive sporadically, everyone with the same look on their faces – defeat
mixed with the bitter hope that we will fail. I sympathize. I felt the same way
during Bree’s and Abe’s presentation. It doesn’t feel so good when you’re on
the receiving end of such pointed resentment. A part of me wants to succeed
even more, sort of as a payback for their disdain. Rick would probably tell me
to embrace that as motivation and call it a good thing. I think I will take his
imagined advice.

Rick walks to stand beside me. I continue to stare at
the door. “Are you ready for this?” he asks.

“Sure. Why not? We know that it works, and it does
indeed kill vampires. So no need to worry, right?” I look up at him, my brow
crinkled as I wait for his reassurance.

He looks down at me as the corners of his lips twitch
in a small smile. “True, but there’s always performance anxiety with things
like this. Shall I speak and you administer the chemicals?”

I snort, “You just don’t want to get vampire on you.”

His smile widens. “I’ve actually had vampire on me
before, under very different circumstances and it usually didn’t end in death.”

“O…kay. That sounds like a story for a much later
time. You talk, I’ll pull the proverbial trigger.”

I turn back to watch the door. No sooner as I do so, two
white-coat-wearing assistants pull a large cage into the room. As the full
metal box comes into view, everything seems to slow down. The surface of my
skin literally feels like it’s going numb. I blink my eyes multiple times,
trying to focus while my brain registers all movement as scenes from a movie. I
struggle to accept that what I am seeing is real and not just a part of my
imagination, a remnant of a scary dream that has been safely tucked away into
the dark recesses of my memory.

As the assistants position the cage catty corner to
the podium, my gaze follows every move as my mind slowly comes to terms with
what my eyes already know. In the far back corner of the cage sits what looks
like a ten-year-old boy. After what seems like ages, my mouth drops open, and I
look back up at Rick.

After a momentary glance at my face, Rick quickly
exits the room leaving me to deal with my shock all alone. Feeling like my legs
could fold in on me at any time, I shuffle to our chairs and slowly sit down. As
the room continues to fill, the murmur of hushed whispers begins to crest,
drowning us in a sea of uncertainty. As I look across the crowd of researchers
and archivists, I notice that some seem to have expressions of sad acceptance
on their faces - as if this is an evil they have known before.

I turn to look at the child vampire in the cage. His
hands are twisting in a rhythmic configuration that makes me think he’s singing
“The Itsy-Bitsy Spider.” Tears well up in my eyes to make up for the fact that
my mind can no longer hold on to this horrible scene.

Rick urgently walks back into the room and takes the
seat between Gwen and me. Mr. Caulfield enters with Allison not long after.
Rick gently takes my arms while leaning toward me, “Emma, please look at me.”

I turn my head to him, a lost yet questioning look on
my face. He leans in closer, his face nearly touching mine. “I went to speak
with Mr. Caulfield about this particular vampire. Any time you encounter a
child vampire, it’s traumatic. For humans and vampires alike.”