Vamp-Hire (3 page)

“Randy? Randy-baby, where are you?” Nick
still couldn’t figure out if that was some sort of nickname for her
son; she called him that a lot. Nick slid out of his jacket,
dropped it on the floor and kicked off his shoes. He could hear
Randy midway up when the basement door was pulled all the way open.
Nick wiped his still-agitated eyes again, realizing after the fact
that this aided in helping him look sleepy.

“Randy, there you are!” she said as Nick came
to the stairs. There Phoebe was at the top of the stairs with Randy
in the middle, facing his mother, which had to look like it was;
that he was on his way up, not down.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “Did he wake you? I’m
sorry.”

“Yeah, that’s okay, though.” He rubbed his
eyes even more, hoping to give her the impression he’d been asleep.
“I think he was sleepwalking.”

“Yeah. He does that sometimes.”

Nick noticed the look of suspicion for a
moment. He yawned.

She was human—just human, and they were prone
to suspicion of people like Nick. Then again, she hadn’t put up a
fuss about him staying here given his condition. However, the creep
factor rocketed when a grown man hung around with a kid not related
to him by blood.

God, he hoped she didn’t think he was a
perv.

Phoebe met Randy on the stairs and scooped
him up, retreating to where the door had swung open. She stroked
his cheek and kissed him, not even glancing over her shoulder at
Nick. Seeing the two of them like that tugged at him in a way he
couldn’t describe. Like his own mother had held and kissed him like
that before. Nick had almost no memory of his life from before and
absolutely none from when he was Randy’s age.

The kid didn’t talk much. Nick didn’t know if
that was because he couldn’t or wouldn’t, and didn’t bother asking.
He figured Randy must have been autistic or something and knowing
for sure wouldn’t change anything. When Phoebe shut the door he
remained there a few beats longer, staring at nothing at all.

He walked over to his bed and sat heavily.
Though he was physically exhausted his mind was still racing. Had
he really almost died tonight? He’d have to get a hold of Lucky in
the morning and tell him this was over.

After he’d stripped off his socks there came
a gentle knock at the basement door. It was Phoebe; he could feel
her all the way up there, the heat of her. His senses always peaked
late at night. He wondered if that thing was still lingering
somewhere inside him and if he could trust himself around her.

“Excuse me. Nick? Could you come upstairs a
moment?”

Hell. He’d have to try.

“Sure.”

He put on his robe for greater effect and
headed upstairs. Did she know? Was she going to report him? Had
Randy told her anything? The house could have been interpreted as
belonging to either of them, as she had bought it at auction.
However, after his parents’ death he’d technically inherited it,
even though he’d been in a coma. So much had been thrown in turmoil
during the Conflict that it was virtual gridlock in every court
across the country they’d decided to figure it out themselves. If
he were thrown in internment he could kiss his claim to the only
home he could remember goodbye.

“Hey,” Nick said when he saw her sitting at
the kitchen table.

“Hey.”

He’d been here about three weeks and though
they were amiable, he wouldn’t describe them as being friends. He’d
been upfront about his condition, and didn’t think that was
necessarily her problem with him. It seemed more of a Y-chromosome
thing.

Nick sat.

“So, what’s up?”

He hadn’t bothered asking any details about
her, particularly her age. She looked early twenties. Actually, she
looked seventeen, but he figured she had to be twenty-one at least
to have a three year old son. Her hazel eyes, brown-blonde hair,
and bronze skin made it almost impossible to guess her ethnicity.
Not that a thing like that mattered to Nick. He supposed he was a
product of his environment in a world where people were put into
categories as a means of satisfying general curiosity and
comfort.

Whatever was on her mind was bugging the hell
out of her. She’d dropped her head into her hands and was massaging
her temples with her thumbs. After a moment, she slapped her hands
on the table and looked at him.

“I’m sure I must have woke you with that
phone call,” she said, smiling sheepishly.

“Oh, that? No. I’m a sound sleeper.”

“Oh! Okay. All right.” She pursed her lips as
if struggling with something she wanted to say and dropped her
eyes. “Look. I’m just gonna come out and say it. I mean, this isn’t
easy.” She locked eyes with him. “I need you to leave.”

Nick felt a momentary stab of panic and
forced himself to keep calm. He knew there was more coming and
waited for her to explain.

“See, it’s my grandfather. He’s coming… here.
Tomorrow.”

From what little he knew about her family,
both her parents were alive, an older sister, and a teenaged
brother. Save for distant relatives, she hadn’t lost anybody at
all. She hadn’t mentioned grandparents, although it wasn’t a
surprise she had a grandfather still kicking. She wasn’t exactly on
speaking terms with them, but had never elaborated as to why.

“Here?” he asked as if he hadn’t understood.
“Why?”

“He wasn’t happy about the move. Or my
grandmother, for that matter. I tried to convince him not to come.
I mean, Randy and I are okay here. I guess for him it’s one of
those things he needs to see for himself. He wasn’t taking no for
an answer.”

“So how long is he planning on staying? I
mean, I guess I can stay at Lucky’s for a night or two.” Nick
didn’t know where Lucky lived or if it would be cool to stay there
and he definitely didn’t want to mess up their arrangement. He
didn’t mind sleeping in the basement at all and despite Randy not
really talking all that much, he was a nice enough kid. In a world
filled with intolerance he found the two of them… tolerable.

She shook her head. “I don’t know. I mean, it
could be a day or two. He might want to stay a week. Maybe even a
month.” She put her hand over his and her palm was incredibly warm.
Nick was reminded of the brief contact with Nancy and wanted to
yank his hand away. Instead, he tightened his loose fist. “I’m
sorry. Seriously. Maybe I can give you some money.”

“No. Every spare dime you have should be
spent on Randy. We’ll figure something out.”

She made a face at that last sentence for
some reason and pulled her hand away.

“Okay, that’s great.” She slid back from the
table and stood. “Well, if it’s not too much trouble to ask, I need
you to go tonight. Pop-Pop is going to be here in the morning and
he’s always early.”

“No, yeah. That works.” The thought of
getting booted out of his house this fast kind of bummed him out.
“Yeah, I’ll pack a bag or something and go over to Lucky’s
place.”

She nodded. “Great. Well, I’m really tired
and it’s late. I really appreciate this.”

Phoebe left, though she hadn’t taken with her
the sudden coldness in the room. What was that that had made her
turn off so abruptly? She went from an acquaintance asking for a
favor to a businesswoman conducting a transaction.

The mystery of Phoebe was an ever-deepening
hole. Nick headed back into the basement, pondering what he knew
about her. He certainly didn’t mind family visiting and it wasn’t
too huge an inconvenience for him to be elsewhere for a day or two,
though this seemed like it was something more than that. Why
couldn’t she tell her family she had a roommate? Even in
post-Conflict days, why didn’t she want to stay with family?

With sudden clarity he realized he had taken
something basic for granted: that ‘humans’ were trustworthy.
Someone like him who had trace amounts of common viral DNA with one
of the greatest mass murderers in history was supposed to be
scrutinized. Not a pretty twenty year old who was trying to make a
way for herself and her young child.

Until this point, Nick couldn’t have cared
less about her personal life, but if she were going to live in the
same house as him, he felt he had a right to know at least enough
about her to be certain he wasn’t going to wind up in the Pens
again.

What would he do if he found out she was
lying? What if there was no grandfather? No Pop-Pop? Unless it was
something incriminating, he didn’t have any leverage to do anything
except take it. And what if she were up to something illegal? What,
would he really have her arrested and separated from her son? Nick
decided he was going to take this thing one step at a time. Maybe
it was something small, something that was embarrassing. If that
wound up being the case, he would keep it to himself.

Right now he had to focus on finding a place
to lay his head for the night. He didn’t have Lucky’s phone number
or know where he stayed, so that meant motelling it. All the ones
in walking distance were probably on the dirty side, which was just
what he needed. Someplace that wasn’t too concerned about reporting
strangers coming in after curfew. He might have to pay a little
extra to get a no-questions-asked room for the night.

Nick jammed his things into a duffle bag and
walked upstairs for the last time tonight and maybe the next month.
He didn’t really see that happening, though. He had a registered
residence and needed to be there on the off-chance an inspector
stopped by unannounced. He was violating his release by leaving at
this hour and compounding it by sleeping somewhere other than his
home for someone he didn’t entirely believe.

Why was he doing this again?

Nick took one last look around, his eyes
catching on the empty family room floor where he remembered sitting
with his mother, making bracelets. The memory dissolved into
another one, her cradling his head as there was gunfire outside.
Before Nick could think about it anymore he stepped outside and
into the night air.

That thing was standing on the lawn
again.

This made the third night it was there. It
looked like a shadow and stood upright like a man with what looked
like long, thin branches for hair. Its eyes reflected the
streetlight behind it, like the back of its head was open.

Nick wasn’t entirely certain it was real. The
first time he’d seen it emerge from the bushes it had stood in the
exact same spot as now, watching the house. Watching him. It hadn’t
moved then, just as it wasn’t moving now, and they’d stared at each
other several minutes. The moment had been broken before when two
teenage girls passed by on the sidewalk behind it. They’d been out
past curfew and hadn’t seemed to notice the creature or whatever it
was when they passed within a few feet. When Nick had looked back
to where it had been standing, it was gone.

He had a sense there wouldn’t be any
teenagers to break the line of tension between them this time. The
creature was definitely staring at him, and though it hadn’t moved,
he felt something akin to aggression.

“You’re not real,” Nick said to it as much to
himself. He lifted one foot to take a step off the porch, letting
it hover a moment. “You’re not real.” He stepped off, watching it
the whole time.

Nick didn’t want to walk toward it and didn’t
he want to put his back to it. He cut across the lawn, keeping it
in his peripheral vision, heading in the direction of an elementary
school outside the subdivision. He glanced over his shoulder once
he’d reached the sidewalk and it had disappeared again.

Midway down the block he thought it was a
better to ditch the motel idea and go somewhere else. He didn’t
know where Lucky lived so he had to go to where he hung out. There
seemed to be a lot more cruisers out tonight which would have been
easier to avoid in his own neighborhood.

A helicopter buzzed somewhere overhead. It
cast a spotlight somewhere into the subdivision to his left. He
turned down a street on his right. He passed a tall figure seated
on the steps of a porch wearing a hat. The red tip of a cigarette
glowed, and the man said nothing as he passed. He gave a single,
slow wave and Nick waved back.

He quickly weaved through several more
streets and by the time he reached the Big Pig, it was well past
midnight. Nick should have been asleep by now. Part of his therapy
had been adjusting to daylight hours. He was naturally inclined to
be awake at night and sleep during the day and in theory that
wouldn’t help him to reacclimate to society. In truth, he couldn’t
get reacclimated to society because once people knew what he was
they typically wanted nothing to do with him. Before his release,
it had been much easier. It was still summer then and sundown
wasn’t until after nine o’clock. Nick tended to be tired during the
day and went to bed between eight-thirty and nine and woke up by
five. He looked for all intents and purposes like an early riser,
ready to take on the world. Fall had come after his release and now
that the clocks had been dialed back an hour, night time came by
six. He had been given sleeping pills, temporary fixes when they
had worked at all.

Plus, he’d gone through all those in his
first two weeks out.

The Big Pig was a square brick building that
looked like it had been a 7-11 in its previous life. It had all its
windows shuttered save for a Plexi-Glass service window the clerk
could use to pass items and take cash without letting customers in.
Nick hoped Lucky still worked here, he didn’t tend to stay in one
place for long; he viewed a job as investment income into his own
entrepreneurial endeavors. Nick didn’t know exactly what those
endeavors were outside of the odd jobs he found for him.

They’d met at the clinic shortly after Nick’s
discharge, where he was dispensing meds. Out of everyone he’d
handed pills to that morning, there was something about Nick that
had made Lucky do more than just pass a plastic cup. It had been
through his industriousness that had led Nick to Nancy.