Psalm of Vampires: Chapter Eleven
Moreland's Turn
Moreland was standing in front of the first batch of bodies, three of them, like she was their sentry. Daphne stood next to her, looking up as if she was keeping an eye out for snipers.
I ran to them. “What the fuck?” I demanded, without any idea what kind of question to pose.
“I got full approval from every one of them,” Moreland said. “You always have demanded proof that I can turn humans? Well, there you have it.” She looked at the rows of bodies.
“What the fuck?” I said again.
“Shit, relax, they’re just asleep,” said Moreland. “It’s not like in the movies. It takes time for the DNA that offers such goodies as cell regeneration and shit like that to take hold. They gotta sleep on it. It’s like recovering from a hangover. They’ll be fine.”
“Seriously, what the fuck, Moreland?”
“The bad news,” said Moreland, “is that they’ll be asleep for a couple of days. We really need to stay here.”
All I had in response was still, “What the fuck?” so I just said nothing. Finally, I said, “Daphne?”
“I wanted to go in and tell you, Jade, honest,” said Daphne. “But she talked me out of it. Said you’d try to stop her. But everything she said made sense to me. She gave her speech on the bus, and they all said they wanted it. Every single one. Truth.”
“Except you?”
“Well, I guess I should say that she made sense to them. I like who I am. I don’t have any desire to be someone or something else. Jade, she didn’t try to convince anyone. All she said was that you recruited them to fight something that they couldn’t fight with their frail human bodies. I feel frail, too, you know? But if these things get me, they’ll just get... I dunno, me. They’ll get me. Not something else. That’s what I said, too, after Moreland gave her speech. I thought she was gonna kill me because she glared at me when I said, why would you want to be someone else?”
“I was not glaring at you,” said Moreland.
“You kinda were,” countered Daphne.
“Maybe a long glance,” Moreland smiled. “I can see why you love her, Jade.” At that, Moreland put her arm around Daphne’s shoulder.
“She’s adorable,” I deadpanned. “Look, I don’t care what your reasoning was, you could have asked me.”
“I wasn’t aware that you were their master,” said Moreland. “Forgive me. Stupid bitch that I am.” Her mastery of sarcasm had been refined over the centuries, unmatched by any known creature. I could have argued with her for centuries about this. In fact, I was pretty sure I would. But for now, we had a bigger problem.
“We can’t protect them,” I said. “This is like a big feeding tray for the Wurdulac. The scout saw us. You saw that it saw us. This is the stupidest damn thing I think I’ve ever seen. Maybe we should hack these trees down with that scimitar you borrowed to make a big ole bento box to put them in.”
I knew I was wasting my breath. For one thing, Moreland was right that the influencers were helpless against the Wurdulac. When they woke up, their regenerated cells would give them superior strength, which would give them a fighting chance that they didn’t have an hour ago. For another, the deed was done.
But I also suspected that Moreland looked at the presence of the scout as a positive. She had baited the perfect trap. I knew it. She knew it, and soon Owens, who would not be pleased that he would soon have a dozen new vampires in his circle, would also know it. Charly would know it. The trap was set, and I’d have to go along with the plan, whether I liked it or not.
Moreland shrugged, immediately detecting my unhappy conclusions. “We need to stock up on weapons. And maybe get a few reinforcements.” This, of course, was what she wanted all along. Have I ever said how much I loathed Moreland?
“I promised Owens we’d help solve his murder spree,” I said.
“Fuck Owens,” said Moreland. “This is more important. The Wurdulac have come out of hiding. Things are about to get crazy.”
I looked at the dozen influencers lying around face up. Sleeping in a forest. “About to?” I asked.
Heavy footsteps approached on a run from behind me. I turned around and instinctively threw my paws into the air as Owens charged ahead with Cordelia leading the way. Charly and Raygun were following close behind. It didn’t look like Owens was going to bother asking that most simple of questions, “What the fuck?” as he took aim at Moreland.
Moreland was smiling. Probably because she could predict what would happen next. Charly lunged toward Owens and knocked him to the ground, then quickly stood up and kicked Cordelia away from him. “Hold on, there, Officer Barbrady,” he said, making an obscure reference to a cartoon show.
Daphne bent to pick up the gun, which had landed in front of her feet. She looked at it as if she was inspecting a fine statue.
Owens picked himself up and wiped some dirt and scrub from his newly scratched chin. “God, I hate you people.” He walked over to the people on the ground closest to Moreland. He checked the pulse of one of them. “What the hell is going on?” he asked.
“They’re asleep,” was all Moreland offered.
Charly was smiling. I loved his smile. It was a beautifully vampiric thing with teeth whiter than the finest pearls and beautifully shaped incisors, all seemingly trapped within two bulbous cheeks that decorated the corners of his lips with deep, tall dimples. He wiped the omnipresent sweat from his bald head with the bottom of his T-shirt, which in turn exposed the kind of pot belly that would have considerably slowed his run had he been human. “After all this time, she finally gives you proof,” he said to me through a chuckle.
“You’re not bothered by this?” I asked.
“I’d be bothered if she turned them into Wurdulacs. This? Not so much,” he answered.
Owens, undeterred by Charly’s takedown, charged again toward Moreland, this time stopping in front of her. “What is going on here?” he demanded.
“Don’t worry,” Moreland cooed seductively, letting go of Daphne, who I think by this time was in a perpetual state of shock. “They’re just taking a short nap.”
“She turned them, Owens,” I said scornfully. At this point, I needed an ally, and Owens would have to do.
“What do you mean, turned them? As in vampire turning them? That kind?”
I nodded.
Daphne tried repeating the explanation she gave me, but Owens wasn’t having any of it.
“So, she brainwashed a dozen people and convinced them to martyr themselves for blue boy’s cause?” I could have done without the disparaging reference. “Huh-uh, I don’t buy that shit.”
“It’s the opposite of being martyred,” said Moreland. “I gave them life. Oh. And by the way? I’m exhausted. That really spent me.”
“Awww, boo-fucking hoo,” I said.
“So, you’re against this, too?” asked Owens.
I nodded. “Not that there’s anything I can do about it now.”
“No way to reverse it?”
I didn’t tell him that I had once investigated the possibility of DNA splicing to remove my vampire DNA to no avail. “If there is, I don’t know about it,” I answered. “But there’s a dearth of scientists who are experts in vampire DNA.”
That comment obtained a classic Owens smirk. “Maybe we need to do something about that,” he said.
Owens looked at the prone influencers scattered around the area. They all looked like they had been distributed as a method for finding pockets of sun through the forest canopy.
“Why are they all in the sunlight?” he asked. “I thought that killed vampires.” He looked at me, realizing he had seen me plenty, and probably others, often in sunlight. “I guess not.”
“Another stupid human myth,” said Moreland. “They need to bake in the sun as much as possible. It accelerates the DNA integration process.”
“You a scientist?” Owens asked disparagingly.
“I know enough,” she said.
“Enough to reverse the process?” asked Owens. “Cuz this? This ain’t right.”
“Fine. If you need an honest answer, I’ll give it. When I bite a human, I’m basically editing their DNA. Human scientists technically know how to edit genes, too. My way is Mother Nature’s way. Jade would call it God’s way. Whatever. So technically, given a very knowledgeable scientist, you could remove the genes I’ve just added. But it’s not so simple. Because my gene editing does more than add genes only found in vampires. It adds millions of base pairs to the genome. I don’t know how you reverse that.”
“Fantastic,” said Owens sarcastically.
“Why would you want to, anyway?” continued Moreland. “I improved these people. It’s like the difference between a rat and a human. Would you want to become a rat, now that you are human? Same question you’d need to ask these good folks when they wake up.”
“You really think you’re that superior to us,” said Owens.
“I know so. Biology doesn’t lie.”
“We had a guy not so long ago,” said Owens. “Started a war that killed 40 million or so because he believed the same thing.”
“Biology wasn’t on his side,” Moreland quickly retorted. “Besides, I didn’t kill these people. Like I said, I gave them life. The Wurdulac scout saw them, too. They were helpless. Soon they won’t be. They’ll at least have a chance to maybe fight back.”
“Unless those things come back while they’re still sleeping,” I said. Looking at Owens, I said, “Moreland says they’ll be asleep for two days.”
“How we supposed to watch over them for two days? I need to get back to the precinct, not babysit a dozen baby vampires,” said Owens.
“You got more of those elalala bullets?” I asked.
“Elaliite. Google it. I’m runnin’ low, man.” He looked at Daphne. “Hey, gimme that thing,” he said to her. She was still looking at Cordelia like it was a mysterious creature.
Cordelia wasn’t the typical gun you see cops carrying in real life or on television shows. The rifle’s barrel was wrapped in a tan tube full of oblong holes. I assumed that was done to make it look scary. Something that looked like a small telescope was mounted on the top of the barrel wrapping. The section at the end of the scope’s tube was wider than the middle section, which was wider than the beginning toward where the shooter’s eyes would be. Fastened on top of the scope near the end of its narrowest section was a device that looked like a prematurely shortened periscope. A cap covered the widest end of the scope like it was some fancy German camera.
It looked like military hardware, not something you’d expect riding around in the trunk of a car that has a “To serve and protect” label on it.
“This?” Daphne said, looking at it.
Owens stuck his hand out. Daphne gave it to him.
“This is a Bergara heavy tactical rifle,” Owens said, looking at me. “A .308 Winchester caliber weapon. Its nitride barrel finish is perfect for the elaliite bullets. The clip only holds five rounds so you need to do a good shoot when you fire. You gotta pop ‘em right in the head at least. Eyeball is best.”
“You’re telling me these things like I’ll use one.”
“We’ve got four of them in the department. SWAT has a bunch more, but I don’t think I can get my hands on any of them. I probably can’t get my hands on any in the department, either. You have to sign away the life of your mother to get one of these things.”
“So you signed away the life of your mother for Cordelia,” I said. “Sounds about right.”
“We need to find a way to get more of these guns, smart ass. And then teach these new vampire pricks how to use them. Fast. Because I think we’re going to see more than one or two of these Wordlocks the next time we see them.”
“Wurdulacs,” I corrected. “Wait. So, one minute you’re complaining about Moreland turning them, and now you want to use them to build an army?”
“Something like that. You in?” That question reminded me a lot of the time Charly asked me if I wanted to help Richard Cory’s family.
I looked at Charly, who smiled. “I’m in,” I said.
“Between you and Charly, I’m gonna assume you can find a way to get your hands on some of these.”
“Wouldn’t it be easier to just find a bunch of AR-15s or something? There’s a jillion of those things.”
“Somebody’s probably using one right now to slaughter a few dozen humans,” said Moreland.
Owens ignored her. “Wrong caliber. All the bullets I have are three-oh-eights. And these guns have just the right mechanics for spotting and shooting those suckers.”
“Owens, the people I hang out with on the internet play games and dance and shit. I don’t know how to find your guns on the black market.” I looked at Charly. “Charly?”
“Nope,” he said.
“Veronica is a dark web girl,” said Daphne. Veronica was the girl who had alerted me to Ice Game’s demise.
“Well, she’s conveniently taking a two-day nap thanks to our vampire queen here,” Owens said, glaring at Moreland.
“Wait,” I said. “Raygun, man, he knows everybody.” Daphne smiled, which sent a slight shiver through my heart. Raygun hadn’t stayed for the conversation and was running around examining his friends, checking for pulses, lifting the occasional eyelid. “Ray!” I yelled. He stood up. “Over here, man.”
He came bounding to us, jumping over a couple of influencers. “I guess they’re all okay,” he said upon arrival.
“We need about twelve of these,” I said, pointing to Cordelia.
“No problem,” he said, looking at Owens as if in approval. “What are they exactly?”
Owens gave him the specs, and Raygun started tapping his phone. Owens looked like he was about to say something, but Raygun stopped him by saying, “It’s encrypted messaging. Don’t worry. Nobody will find out you’re breaking the law.” Owens rolled his eyes.
“One of these days your eyeballs are gonna get stuck in the back of your head,” I said.
“What about delivery?” asked Raygun.
“What do you mean, delivery?” I asked.
“If I find a guy, where should I have him deliver the goods?”
“I’ll have to get back to the precinct, anyway, somehow,” said Owens. “I haven’t thought that through yet. I left behind a clusterfuck, and they’ll wonder how I walked away without my nads in my mouth.”
“Eww?” said Daphne.
“And I need to get more bullets from the precinct,” Owens added. “Shit, this is gonna be a pain in the ass. But I’ll figure it out.”
“By now they’re all over that crime scene,” I said. “Isn’t your phone blowing up, Owens?”
“I tossed it when we left.”
“You’re kidding,” I said.
“Department can track our phones. If I didn’t toss it, there’d be a hundred cops here by now. Why do you think they started trailing Blood Brothers Bus Lines? Anyway, have him meet me at the Home Depot across from Ponce City Market where the locals hang out to get picked up for odd jobs. Easy to remember, can’t miss it. Tell him I’ll be wearing an Atlanta Braves baseball cap and a 49ers Jersey.” I had to admit to myself that I was impressed at his fast thinking and ability to set up a clandestine meeting with such easy-to-remember instructions. You couldn’t miss a guy wearing the mixed sports uniforms.
It didn’t take long for Raygun to find a guy about three times removed from one of his first contacts to arrange for the acquisition of some Bergara rifles. Dealing with someone that far removed seemed risky, but these guns weren’t household names. We figured out a way to transfer some crypto to the seller for a down payment. All while standing around waiting for the Wurdulac.
When dusk settled into the hills, we gathered the influencers onto the bus. It was a macabre sight to see them all in their bus seats, asleep, their eyelids shut but pulsating or flittering fitfully. Some were already taking on Moreland’s glow. I hated her for that. God, I thought to myself, what if we are now about to have twelve more Morelands? The thought of it made me want to ask Owens to use Cordelia to put me down, which he probably was planning to eventually do anyway.
After we loaded the influencers onto the bus, Charly, Moreland, and Owens went downslope to find the family with the litter of kids, hoping they’d have a car to steal. Moreland came along to do the actual stealing. She was an automotive expert during this century and ran a body shop in upper New York State when she wasn’t stalking me.
The plan was for Charly to deliver a bite or ten if they were caught while trying to steal the car. I made him promise to go easy. No rough stuff. “They sound like good people, man, don’t worry,” Charly assured me. “If I bite, it’s just a memory-buster thing. We’ll return the car to them after Owens does his thing, right?”
Owens’ thing was to high tail it into Atlanta using the stolen car to load up on guns and ammo. He’d leave Cordelia behind for Charly to use in case the Wurdulac showed up before his return. I couldn’t imagine how Owens would pull it off, but I’d learned to trust his ability to get things done. If I was honest with myself, I’d have to call him one of the smartest humans I’d ever known. And afraid of nothing. I still couldn’t stand the guy, but I had begun to respect him.
But he had a steep hill to climb. He had to find a way to convince his bosses that he was victimized by the attack even though he walked away without a scratch. That alone probably meant at least some temporary desk duty while his superiors figured things out. Then, he’d need to talk to Garrison to keep things kosher with his partner. Then he’d need to snag some of his special bullets. I started calling them meteor bullets because “elaliite” was an impossible name for people to remember. Then, he’d need to sneak away from his desk duty. He would have to do all of that before the Wurdulacs came knocking again at Wolfie’s lair. Good luck with that.
Raygun, Moreland, and Owens returned from the litter family’s house with a car. One of the teenage kids who had befriended Wolfie loaned it to them after being told about Wolfie’s demise. Easy peasy. It didn’t hurt that the teenager was openly drooling when he saw Moreland. This was according to Moreland, but Raygun confirmed the account with a smile. He held out Wallace as if to suggest I could watch the reaction if I wished. I declined. I thought she still looked like a bumble bee.
It seemed weird to me that an isolated family in north Georgia hill country would befriend a lonely half-crazed vampire, but this was the Georgia foothills of Appalachia. I’m sure plenty of weirder things happen there that I don’t know about.
Owens left in the car almost before it pulled up into Wolfie’s long, skinny, stone driveway.
Here's the strange thing. I’ve fought in more human wars than I can count, but I’ve never fired a military-grade weapon. I’ve always been a hand-to-hand combat guy. I found the world wars to be such wanton, worthless slaughters that I didn’t want anything to do with them. Or any modern warfare, for that matter. So, I was glad that Charly wanted to man the gun. He was happy to keep watch while Owens was away. He hadn’t slept for a couple of days but said he was fine. Most of us can go for a week or so without sleep if we must.
Still, Moreland insisted that he sleep for an hour, arguing that he needed to be fully charged. She’d keep watch while he slept and wake him if there was any trouble. The Wurdulac, I knew, could come that night, or anytime within the next month. I knew that another scout could be lurking somewhere, too.
Moreland found a small chair and sat outside the bus while Charly took a nap next to her on the ground. He was tired. I knew this because as soon as he shut his eyes, he was out. I sat on the ground next to Moreland and her chair, thinking about Daphne. She was who I really wanted to be with. We hadn’t talked since she had found out the truth about who I was. Not really talked. Not the way we always had. I convinced myself she was probably asleep somewhere like Raygun, who had collapsed in the bus driver’s seat.
“Hey, you okay?” asked Moreland while I found myself lost in those thoughts. The animal night shift had taken over the sounds of the forest.
Her sudden compassion made me think that she was ill. Or smoking something. But I restrained myself. “Yeah, I’m okay. You?”
“Yeah. I just thought these things were history, though. Not much gets to me, you know. But this. These. They. Damn, these things get to me.”
“We don’t know how many are left. That’s the worst of it. Could be a few. Could be a dozen.”
“Or thousands.”
“I can’t see them breeding that fast. But we just don’t know. Moreland, I don’t relish the idea of being hunted for the rest of my life. If I’m going down, I want to be the aggressor.”
At that, my spine chilled as footsteps approached. I recognized the sound, which surprised me. The gait was unmistakable to me. As the leaves crunched behind me, I continued looking ahead, trying to compose myself. I braced myself for what was about to happen. Then two arms wrapped around me from behind, my heart nearly obliterated by her scent.
She kissed my neck softly as I took one of her hands that had found its way against my chest. “You’re not going down, old man,” she said. Like I said earlier, when Daphne finds a theme, she loves to stick to it. She sat behind me and wrapped her legs around me from behind, her feet on my legs. “You two are the weirdest people I’ve ever known. Do you have any idea what a good team you make?”
Moreland laughed. “We’ve been at this long enough, sister. We should have at least a few things figured out.”
“So why don’t you guys get along better?” she asked.
“Singapore,” Moreland and I said in unison.
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