The Cowboy and Vampire

Alone and in an unfamiliar room, Tucker cracked open his eyes. His memory of last night was nothing more than a blur. He stared at the strange ceiling and tried to piece it back together. Judging from the way he hurt all over, whatever had happened, he must have lost. As his scattered senses began organizing themselves, he took stock of his surroundings. He was lying on a strange leather couch with a stiff sheet over him. Swinging his feet over the edge, he nearly stepped on Rex who was sprawled beside a pile of bloody cloth which he vaguely recognized as his shirt. Beside them were his boots, also bloody.



"Wonder if all that blood was mine," he mused, trying to stand. A wave of weakness forced him to hold the edge of the couch.



"Guess so."



Limping over to the window with Rex close at his heels, he saw an expanse of dirty water and boats. He pushed the sliding doors aside and stood on the balcony. The air was cool as he leaned on the railing and looked down. They were on the top floor of what appeared to be a very exclusive stack of apartments. "Where the hell are we this time, Rex? And where's Lizzie?" Rex didn't answer, so he limped back in to look around.



"First things first, let's see what there is to eat." The fridge was barely stocked with mineral water and little else. Rex looked up at Tucker, inquisitively but Tucker just shook his head. In the cabinets were bottles of wine with vintages ranging from old to extremely old, but no food. Definitely a Vampire, he thought and that thought, foreign at first, jolted his memory of the night before. A twinge of pain radiated from his ribs and he cursed Elita under his breath.



Off the main room, he noticed a heavily lacquered door and pushed it open. Inside the windowless room was a row of coffins, all handsomely built and all occupied. Lizzie was lying dead in the center, one hand reaching toward the door. On one side lay Sully and on the other, a man Tucker had never seen before. A handsome man with gray at the temples, wearing a blood-spattered white shirt.



"Must be my blood," Tucker whispered to Rex. "Guess he's a doctor."



A wave of jealousy welled up in him at the sight of her with her own kind and him on the outside. He took a breath and held it, trying to straighten out the twist in his thinking. Sully had saved both of them from Julius, and the tall one had probably just saved his life after Elita's attack. Still, the separateness clouded his mind.



Rex sat by his foot and Tucker slid down the wall to sit beside him. He peeked under the bandages at the wounds, surprised to see there wasn't much healing left to be done. Good Lord, he thought, I hope they haven't turned me into a Vampire, too. Just to be sure, he looked directly at the sun and it didn't have an impact, except that it brought tears to his eyes.



Several minutes later, he realized the tears were no longer from the sun. He kept petting Rex and the tears fell faster, not the sobbing kind, but more of the hopeless kind that fall detached from the action itself and hang in space. Questions and images flooded his thoughts, images of Lizzie and happiness and darkness stealing across the face of the moon.



Maybe Lizzie was right, he thought. Maybe he should just walk away right now. Rex nuzzled his hand as if reading Tucker's thoughts. "Well, why not?" he asked Rex. "When she woke up, she'd understand. Sure, she'd miss me at first, but what the hell, she'd have the rest of eternity to deal with it. It ain't like I have that much to offer anyway, not com-pared to these guys. No power. No air of mystery. No desire to suck the life out of innocent folks. All she could really look forward to with me was a whole lot of nothing but cold winters and hot summers in a Godforsaken little town in Wyoming. Not much thrill there."



Rex lay down at Tuckers feet, staring up, a look of genuine pity in his brown dog eyes.



"Don't look at me like that. You expect me to be happy about watching her stay young and beautiful while I get more and more ruggedly handsome with the years? Having to keep her stashed by day and never being able to have the boys over for a beer at night for fear she would eat them?"



Tucker shook his head, his words now continuing as thoughts. She was right. He had seen her through the worst. There was no shame in that. Besides, she had left him at the church. It was her idea. Their lives were no longer compatible and the smart thing to do would be to just walk out. To just find a clean shirt and walk right out. Put his hat back on and gather Rex up and just walk on out. That would be the smart thing to do. To just walk out that door and leave her there with her new buddies. Just walk on out, that's the thing to do.



Instead, he called Dad.



"Hello."



"Dad, it's me."



"Tucker, where the hell you been? I thought you was dead," he said.



"Well, I ain't, but it sure does feel like it."



"Ribs still hurting you?"



"Naw, they're fine, but this little Vampire bitch stuck her hands damn near through me."



"Did you find Lizzie?"



"Ain't you worried about me?"



"You're talking on the phone, ain't you?"



"Yeah."



"So how's Lizzie?"



"Well shit, Dad, she's dead."



"What?"



"Yeah. I was too late."



"You telling the truth?"



"I swear. She's dead as a doorknob and laying right in the other room."



"Well, you don't sound too perturbed."



"I am. Mostly 'cause she won't stay dead."



There was a moment of silence. "What the hell are you talking about boy? All the smog out there caused your brain to vapor lock?"



"Naw, Dad, she's a Vampire now."



"Like that boy we shot in my kitchen?"



"Yeah. Only she's the Queen of the Vampires or some such thing."



"Well, she always did seem a little high strung. But I would've never figured her for a Vampire, much less a Queen."



"You hadn't even seen a Vampire 'til you shot that one. Besides, she wasn't a Vampire when you seen her. Not for real, anyway."



"What the hell happened?"



"I don't know exactly. All I know is when I got out here, there was Vampires all over the damn place, all looking for her. I found her first but it was too late and then on account of my natural willingness to see the good in people, I kind of got us caught and then I had to shoot a whole mess of them to get us out, but in the process one of them got a little friendly with my internal organs."



"Where are you now?"



"Damned if I know. Some fancy penthouse."



"How's Rex?"



Tucker reached down to pet him. "Fine. Antsy to get back, I reckon."



"So, you heading this way?"



"I don't rightly know. I guess after she wakes up tonight we'll figure it out."



"I wouldn't mind seeing you soon. There's a big stretch of fence down and winter is coming and all."



"Yeah, I know. You miss me."



"Hell, I don't miss you. Especially since you ain't got no place to live now. I just got more work than one old man can do."



"They're all talking about some other old boy, a Vampire, lives out in New Mexico."



"Always wanted to see that part of the country."



"I'd just as soon stay in LonePine. If she's got a better idea, I'll call and tell you. Otherwise, I imagine we'll be out that way soon enough."



"I'll put a pot of beans on. I suppose I can't put no onions in it."



"Why?"



"On account of Lizzie being a Vampire now."



"It ain't onions, Dad, it's garlic. And besides, none of that stuff is true anyhow."



"I didn't know."



"I gotta go."



"All right. Talk to you later then. Give my best to Lizzie."



He hung up and pulled a mineral water out of the fridge. It would be a while before she woke up, so he turned on the TV and flopped down in a leather easy chair. He flipped through the channels until he found a horror movie. A Vampire was chasing some girl through a cemetery. There was organ music playing in the background and the Vampire's fangs gleamed in the moonlight. Tucker started to laugh. It made him feel a little better, although the wound opened up and blood began seeping under the bandages.



SANTA FE, NEW MEXICO



October 14, 10:05 P.M.



Carlos flew from the parlor into the living room. "She's been found, oh Master, she's been found!" he stammered. Lazarus was dozing, his spectacles slipping down his nose and a National Enquirer strewn across his lap.



"What?" he gasped, as he struggled to wake. "Where? Who has seen her? Dammit, Carlos, tell me everything, word for word."



He was completely awake now, commanding in his massive, physical presence as he stood to his full height. Carlos shrank back instinctively, like a man confronted by a grizzly bear. Intellect and memory quickly overcame instinct and Carlos continued, cautious but confident of his master's benevolence.



"Doctor Philippi. He just called. The cowboy was seriously injured and there has been a narrow escape, but they shall be leaving soon."



"On their way here?"



"He thinks so, although it is ambiguous. He is providing them with transportation and supplies. Where else would they go?" His enthusiasm carried him away again. "There is still so much to get ready I'll have to make a special casket for her. I wonder if her favorite color is still purple. I still have the stuffed bear, the pink one, that she used to sleep with here yesterday It seems like just yesterday but it was nearly thirty years ago. Oh, Master, I am overcome."



"Calm yourself, Carlos. Sit. How are they getting here?"



"By car."



"Good. That is by far the safest way Who is with them?"



"Sully."



"Even better. He will know the safe-houses along the way." Lazarus smiled, reminded of years ago when he had inadvertently become involved in the Underground Railroad, funneling escaped slaves to the North. His legions had quietly helped destroy certain narrow-minded whites hampering the process. It had been a small aid, but one he liked to think had helped bring about the defeat of the South, as some of its most prominent advocates slowly lost their minds and their life's blood. He had discovered, over his many years, that it was sometimes better for humanity to have its most evil men slowly destroyed rather than killing them outright. Immediate death often left martyrs, thereby allowing certain evils to gain even greater momentum. During his help with the Underground Railroad, he had admired the established network of safe houses, all within a minimum distance from each other, so that the escaped slave could avoid exhaustion and minimize the probability of capture. It was a battle strategy he had since implemented in his skirmish with Julius. Many were the fledgling Vampires he had enticed away from Julius and smuggled to various sympathetic locations throughout the world. He hoped that this system of safe-houses would prove valuable to Lizzie and Tucker on their way West.



"Yes, Carlos, we must prepare. You see to the requirements of their lodgings. I will see to the protection of her power. Have the jet prepared."



"You are leaving? Now, at such a time?"



Lazarus continued, patiently, but with a slight annoyance at being questioned by Carlos. "It will take them at least two more days to arrive here, probably longer. I intend to pay a personal visit to Julius before their arrival."



Carlos was stunned into silence.



"What are you waiting for?"



Haltingly, Carlos spoke, "Master, it has been so long."



Lazarus was quiet, a memory moving painfully through his soul. When he spoke, it was gravely but to himself, as if no one was in the room. "Even the passage of these 700 years has not changed my feelings about those events."



Carlos was quiet, afraid to say anything in the face of such sorrow.



Lazarus waved his hand futilely whispering, "I cannot change the past, but I can change the future." He knelt down, overcome, and touched his forehead to the ground. Eventually he spoke to an invisible presence, one forever close to his side. "I promise you, I will do now what I should have done then. Forgive me. You were not evil."



Carlos stood completely still and breathed quietly. "I am deeply sorry for bringing this up now. I know you still mourn for the loss of MaryAnne. I apologize."



"MaryAnne," Lazarus consented. A moment passed, all was quiet. Abruptly, he rose. "Enough." Though his voice was strong, his eyes were weak. "Julius lost his power base by his own sordid, greedy hand. He has been trying to make up for it for centuries, laying the foundation for the event that will occur in," Lazarus moved to his desk and paged through the calendar, silently counting the days, "by my reckoning, her first menses will be due in just about sixteen days."



"What shall you do, Master?"



"Do? What anyone would do in such a case."



"What do you mean, what kind of case is this?"



"Indeed, Carlos, have you not figured it out? This, my faithful servant, is war. Between myself and Julius. Only one of us can survive."