Vampire Manifesto (16 page)

The Author just shrugged. “Do what you have to, I’m rich, bitch. I’m still spending ’88 money. I been spending hundreds since they had small faces.”

With that, John Rogers removed himself not only from the conversation as a whole, but from the overall vicinity as well, pushing himself away from the table and heading towards the exit. He stopped in front of me, taking in the full measure of both myself and Ethan Blackwood.

“
Excuse me, but are either of you busy for the next, oh…say, twenty five, thirty minutes?”

“
Not really.” Ethan answered.

“
Well humor an old chap and have lunch with a fellow. My treat.”

I thought Ethan was gonna crap himself, he was so excited. “Hell yeah. Just let me run up to the register real quick and…”

John Rogers snatched up the two books Ethan was planning on buying, adjusting his glasses to read the tittles. “Hmm…Ambrosia and Fledgling. Good choices. A fan of deviant prophecy I take it?”

“
Uh…” Ethan stuttered.

“
But of course you are, but these…” Rogers tossed them unceremoniously over his shoulder. “…Poppycock, my dear fellow. Just paperback nonsense edited down for mass public consumption. I have better. Hard back and leather bound, with more details in the prophetic conversion of the Forgotten Future.”

“
Wow.” Ethan was ecstatic.

“
Plus I’ll give them to you, no charge. Come, follow me, the yellow brick road awaits.” John Rogers hustled out of the book store, arm draped around Ethan’s shoulder. I followed behind them, feeling somewhat like a third wheel.

I hesitated once I reached the front door, scanning the store, a fleeting desire to see Connor just one more time, yet it was futile. He was long gone.

“
Come on Madison, we’re going to the Red Lobster!”

I cut them both a sly look. “We’re going to the Olive Garden.”

“
A woman who takes charge. You gotta love those.” John Rogers seemed harmless in that odd senile kind of way. I could see what Adahy saw in him. There was no doubt, John did possess his own personal swagger and when he spoke, nonsense as it may seem, he did exhibit a sort of animal attraction one found difficult to turn away from.

The Olive Garden was a short walk away, located in the same shopping center as Books-A-Million and once we entered, it didn’t take us long to get our seats, which was located by the window. The waitress came and took our order, Rogers being very vocal about the check coming to him and him only. There was a slight awkward silence at first, that is, until the waitress returned with our drinks.

Grape soda for me, Dr. Pepper for Ethan and a Long Island Ice-Tea for Rogers. He nodded approvingly when the waitress appeared with the drinks, handing her an old school, two-dollar bill as a tip, then literally shooed her away before draining half his glass in three gigantic gulps.

“
Forgive me, I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced as of yet. I’m sure we know each other’s names, or at least I am aware of both yours and his, while my own was plastered across that God awful, gaudy, bulletin crapfest; however that should not displace the advent of manners all together."

“
I am Jonathan Rogers, though that be a pseudonym at best, poor intellectualism at worst. I am a writer of no small pedigree, my works, though not blazoned into the common, everyday psyche, do fairly decent. I am also in possession of one of the most amazing literary agents the universe has ever given birth too, so I’m lucky in that respect and as such, monetary value means almost nothing to me.”

Money means nothing. Must be nice…

“
Well I’m Ethan Blackwood.” I’m so glad he decided to go before me. “And I just moved here.”

“
Really?” Rogers leaned forward, fully enraptured. “Where from Mr. Blackwood?”

Now this perked my interest as well, considering Ethan is very nondisclosure agreement when it comes to himself.

He seemed to fidget in his seat a little. “I’m…not from this country.” Ethan didn’t elaborate any further.

Rogers could sense Ethan’s trepidation about his past. “Don’t worry son, we’re all foreigners here. Do you think this universe originally belonged to us to begin with?”

“
I guess that just leaves me.” Sure, I could play along. Just listening to Rogers off the cuff comments was worth the price of admission.

“
I’m Madison Rose. I just moved here as well.”

“
Interesting.” John had finished his drink and was snapping his fingers in the air to gain the waitresses attention. Once he had it, he simply pointed towards his glass. “The both of you, newlyweds to the city of Palm Coast. Did know each other before coming to Florida?”

“
Nah. I saw her at the beach the other day and just had to stop.” Ethan was glowing as he spoke.

“
Just had to, you say?” The waitress appeared and replaced Johns Long Island Ice-Tea with a fresh one. “One might just call that Providence.”

“
I don’t believe in fate.” I think I’m starting to like this John Rogers.

“
That’s okay Madison, it’s perfectly clear that He believes in you.” John held out his hand, palm down, placing it in the middle of the table. “Tell me what you see.”

“
Ethan cocked a singular eyebrow. “Uh…your hand?” He leaned forward quite a bit. “And a really kick ass Green Lantern ring.”

“
But is that it? Is that all you see?” Rogers was studying his face intensely, waiting for a response.

Ethan took a sip of his soda then leaned back. “If this is some type of pop quiz, I’m sure I failed.”

“
There is a grading curve that is well beyond your realm of comprehension my boy, but you…” Rogers turned his hand towards me. “You, I’m very sure of. Very sure indeed. Tell me what you see.”

It was strange. John Rogers was bizarre. My eyes cut towards Ethan for a moment then back towards this dude’s hand. I mean, it was just like Ethan said. Other then that ring, which really was kinda kick ass, must be a movie prop or something, but other than that, it was just nothing there. Nothing of any note that is.

And yet…

It was almost like there was something visible and yet there wasn’t. I had to unfocus my eyes until I was seeing doubles and only as the two images began to merge together into one was it only partially visible. It was some type of tattoo in azure ink. Very faint, but it was still there nonetheless. It appeared to be some type of equation, yet it was hard to make the numbers out. They seemed to…fluctuate is the best word I can use to describe it.

“
What is that, a math problem?” I asked. “It kinda reminds me of, I don’t know, an algebraic equation or something.”

“
It’s a Chaos Equation to be more specific.” John seemed like he just found the winning lottery ticket.

“
A Chaos Equation? What’s a Chaos Equation?” Things were starting to get odd. “And why am I the only one that can see it?”

“
See what?” Ethan leaned forward again, this time literally grabbing Johns hand and pulling it extremely close to his face. “There’s nothing there other then this mole. I don’t see anything else. You really might wanna get that checked out too.”

John pulled his hand away from Ethan’s grasp. “That mole is of no concern to you.”

I sighed. “Jesus, you two are like the Odd Couple. Why can’t Ethan see the tattoo John?”

“
Because, he isn’t supposed to, my good woman.” He took another sip of his drink. “At least not yet, he isn’t. The ink is bonded to my quantum signature. The Chaos Equation is in a state of flux, constantly changing, realigning my body’s dimensional frequency, ever so much. Not enough to elicit a Transdimionsional, Quantum Parallel-Shift into another reality mind you, but enough so that I’m more in tuned to specific… reality altering events as they take place.”

“
That sounded really cool and all, but it made absolutely no sense to me what so ever.” I can see why this guy’s books sold so well. If he could write eloquently, just half of what he just said, nerds everywhere would have a nerdgasim in their nerd pants.

“
I understood it.” Both myself and John looked at Ethan skeptically. “Hey, I didn’t say I believe the man, but I’ve read enough Grant Morrison and watched enough Star Trek to understand String Theory.”

The waitress came with our food, placing each of the plates down in front of us, before disappearing. As soon as she left, everyone passed their plates to the right until we had our correct order in front of us.

“
Don’t even play yourself Ethan. You do not understand String Theory. I don’t even understand String Theory. I don’t even know what Sting Theory is, but I know it’s not what he just said.”

Ethan took a bite out of his burger. “What the man is saying is that, he got himself a tattoo that attracts him to crazy shit.”

“
How is that even remotely close to String Theory?” I asked.

“
It’s not.” Ethan replied with a mouth full of food. “I’m just using that as an analogy.”

“
An analogy of what?”

“
I don’t know.” Ethan washed down his burger with some Dr. Pepper. “So what’s up with the invisible ink tattoo John?”

“
It’s not invisible.” I countered. “I can see it. I mean, it’s difficult for me to make out, it hurts when I look at it, but it’s there.”

Ethan rolled his eyes. “Let the man speak.”

John didn’t respond, simply gazing at the two of us without discretion. “Amazing.”

“
What that’s John?” Ethan had just shoved a handful of fries in his mouth. “I know I’m awesome and all, but…”

“
The Mark of Pandora blazes bright amongst the two of you. Brightest with young Madison here, but still…” John seemed flabbergasted. “I’ve never witnessed such an event of this magnitude before. It was just utter randomness that I was doing a signing in this city at all. Engine trouble on my way to Orlando yesterday. The mechanic said the new part won’t arrive until tomorrow. That’s how I ended up here in Palm Coast.

“
My agent decided to contract the Books-A-Million signing just on a whim. Just to past the time. In my entire life I’ve never seen one, I’ve only read about them or heard about them from questionable, second hand sources, yet today, within the span of an hour, I’ve come across three individuals that bare the Mark of Pandora. Do you have any idea of the significance behind a cosmic event such as this?”

“
You lost me at hello, buddy.” I took a bite of my Spinach Alfredo.

“
Yes, of course I did, of course I did.” John Rogers mumbled. “Here, let me explain. You see, there are seven distinct dimensions that hold the everything of everything.”

This guy was certifiable, of this there was no question. His particular brand of crazy was just oozing off him in waves right now. Yet the way he spoke, his enthusiasm, it was just…you know…I don’t even know what it was, but he had my attention.

John motioned to the world in a wide sweeping arc of his hands. “Everything here, all of this, everywhere, the Earth, the planets beyond, the sun, the galaxy, the universe, all of this and everything that it entails, is located in just one dimension. You, me, him, her, them, they, area 51, the pyramids, that new Mercedes coup, that fork you’re eating with, this drink, which is utterly lacking the correct amount of alcohol, those clouds, the aliens that live on whatever world we have yet to discover, all of this, everywhere, it all exists in just one dimension.”

“
And within that one dimension are six hundred and sixty-six different realities that coexist all at once, overlapping each other constantly, invisible to the naked eye, yet here nonetheless.”

“
Six hundred and sixty-six? Isn’t that the Mark of the Beast?” Ethan had stopped eating, intent on the conversation.

“
I suppose.” John admitted. “I don’t know really, maybe it’s just symbolic, maybe it’s not. More than likely that specific number of realties existed before the Beast. Or it could be just as well that the Beast existed before the separation of realities and that number is his fingerprint on existence itself. Or maybe there is no Beast at all and the whole of it comes from the power of imagination and Mankind’s overwhelming need to place symbolism on everything it comes into contact with.”