[post] mortem Chapter eleven: Messy

[ashleyleigh]

"Please tell me you didn't do this," Roman said as he and Chris stood over the jogger's dead body.

"Of course I didn't do this," Chris scoffed. "I had no idea she had vamp blood in her system."

Roman said, "She wouldn't be running around chomping on joggers if you hadn't pulled that stunt at the party last night."

"Fine, maybe I did do some of this," Chris said with a sigh. "What do we do now?"

"We are not doing anything," he said. "I'm calling Max."

"What? Why?"

"I always call Max if a vampire comes through the morgue," Roman answered. "If he finds out about Simone and not from me, it won't be good."

"Fine, call him," Chris said. "Let him clean up our mess."

"Our?" Roman objected as he stomped back towards the morgue to make the call.

"My mess! Whatever!" Chris shouted after him.

With a scowl, Chris turned back to the dead jogger.

He grumbled, "Just who the hell is messing with us?"

________________________________________

Face buried one of the books in Phil’s small library; Chuck’s eyes frantically scanned the pages, flipping through the book at an astonishing pace. He was always a fast reader, which came in handy during those two years he bothered to devote any amount of time to a college education, but that day he was a man on a mission. Tongue partially out of his mouth; he would devote only seconds to each page before flipping to the next one. Even he couldn’t read that fast. It was barely enough time to scan each page.

Phil ambled in the doorway wondering how to approach him. He knew must’ve been upset. Chuck didn’t even find out about the masquerade ball until Simone Barclay’s untimely death moved the event from the society pages to the front page. Phil contemplated whether he should’ve known at all, a gesture that Vanessa immediately shot down. Phil could not understand that girl’s preoccupation with telling the truth when lies could make things so much easier. Now he had to deal with a vampire who could do nothing to help his friends and family no matter how much he wanted to. Phil knew how much that hurt, but he really didn’t want to talk about it. This is why he stood in the hallway, waffling back and forth.

When he did muster the courage to walk in, he asked, “Are you reading your own book?”

Peering over the top of the latest James St. Cloud novel, Murder on Aisle Six, Chuck asked, “Am I not allowed?”

“Of course you’re allowed, but why?” Phil asked.

“I was trying to write a new story, not even sure why since there’s no way I can publish the damn thing, and I couldn’t remember how this one ended,” Chuck replied. “Happy?”

“No, not particularly,” he answered. “Maybe I’ll laugh about it later.”

“Go on and laugh, it’s funny,” Chuck said. “You don’t have to be sad just because I’m sad.”

“I am choosing to be appropriate, so let it be,” Phil said.

“Why do I feel like you just insulted me?” Chuck asked.

“Because I am constantly insulting you,” Phil answered.

“I know, and I’m not in the mood for it right now.”

Phil sighed and said, “I’ll just be on my way then.”

He added, “The assistant manager did it,” before leaving the room.

When he arrived in the kitchen, he found Crawford there.

“I know you don’t have to be invited into my house because I’m a vampire, but I appreciate it when people knock,” Phil said. “It’s just common courtesy.”

“Phil, you can lecture me later,” she said. “I need to talk to Chuck.”

“I told you when you called that he’s not really up for talking.”

“This is serious! Just get him!”

Phil couldn’t remember the last time Crawford yelled at anyone, as she preferred to get uncomfortably close to people and whisper. It was one of the many well crafted an affected parts of her persona that Phil would judge her for if he had not done a little crafting of his own over the years. One of the benefits of living for such a long time was the ability to reinvent yourself over and over again.

Also, being friends with someone for over a hundred years allowed you to see right through their bullshit very quickly.

He asked, “Annabelle, what’s going on?”

“I hate when you call me that.”

“It’s your name.”

“One of many.”

Whatever the hell your name is, I am too tired for the run around,” Phil said. “Out with it.”

“Out with what?” Chuck asked as he walked into the room.

She looked at Chuck with those big, innocent eyes of his and Phil, smug as ever, and realized she was trapped.

“Fine,” she said with a sigh. “I made a mistake and I need help.”

“I’m going to need more than that,” Phil said.

“It’s about Simone Barclay,” she said. “She may, and I cannot stress the word may enough, become a vampire.”

“What? How? I…” Phil stumbled about for the right combination of shocked and dismayed turns of phrase, but came up short.

“This one over here decided to take a bite out of her two days ago,” she said.

“It was an accident and it wasn’t a bite so much as it was a nibble,” Chuck said.

“And then I…I fixed it,” she said.

“Annabelle, you didn’t,” Phil said.

“I did,” she said with a sigh.

“What did you do?” Chuck asked. “She wouldn’t tell me.”

“I thought you were joking when you asked,” Crawford. “Do you teach him anything Phil?”

Arms crossed over his chest, Chuck pouted, “No, he doesn’t.”

“This is not about me,” Phil said. “You’re the ones you went around town biting crazy socialites and feeding them your blood.”

“Ew! Why’d you do that?” Chuck asked.

“Phil, teach this poor boy something before I have to hurt him,” Crawford said with a sigh.

Phil said, “Vampire blood has some healing properties. If you’re dying it won’t do you much good, but it’s better than nothing I suppose.”

“And before you ask, because I’m sure you don’t know this either despite going through the process yourself, to become a vampire there’s a blood exchange accompanied by death,” Crawford said.

“And that death doesn’t have to occur immediately,” Phil said. “It can take more than a day for vampire blood to leave a human’s system.”

Trying to take this all in, Chuck said, “I think my brain hurts.”

“Please, say something helpful and/or intelligent right now Phil,” Crawford said with a sigh.

“We need to call Roman,” Phil said.

“I’ve been calling him all day,” she said.

“Did you tell him the truth?”

“No.”

One look from Phil and she said, “I’ll call him again.”

As she walked off, Chuck said, “Should I be scared? ‘Cause Crawford looks scared and that is frightening enough in itself.”

“Of course you should be scared!” Phil snapped. “We’re talking about a woman who committed murder when she was alive! And she could be out there chomping on everyone in town!”

“Phil, I didn’t mean…”

“I know you didn’t mean to cause this mess, but here we are anyway,” he said. “Just go sit down somewhere and don’t touch anything. I can’t deal with anymore excitement today.”

With that he stomped off.

Chuck stood there looking as if he’d just been slapped in the face before shuffling off back to the library.

________________________________________

Meanwhile, Max sped down the road back towards town. He was miles away from town when he got a panicked phone call from Roman. He didn’t want to go and deal with Simone, but he had to. He really wished he could bail on everything to spend time with Delia. He really wished he could.

He’d barely spoken to Delia since the party. Spurred by Ray’s phone call, he did show up at the ball, but unfortunately after the accident. Delia’s lawyer, who also happened to be her boss, was already by her side, and he soon whisked her away from the prying eyes of reporters and police officers.

He’d left a few messages on her cell phone he was sure he’d regret if played back to him. Eventually once she got some time alone, she called him back.

“Are you okay?” he asked, and when she didn’t answer, he immediately regretted it.

“I’m sorry I was late,” he said. “I did come you know.”

“I saw you,” Delia said. “Nice tux.”

“Thanks.”

Their conversation screeched to halt for a few moments while each contemplated what to say next.

“Well, I think you’re going to be okay,” Max said. “It was clearly an accident.”

“I know,” Delia said with a sigh. “I’d just rather not…you know.”

“I know,” he said with a nod.

“Let’s talk about something else.”

“Where are you right now?” Max asked. “Are you at home?”

“I’m at my parents’ house,” she answered. “My lawyer thinks I should stay out of town for a few days.”

“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea,” Max said with a nod. “Can I come by? I mean, if it’s okay with your parents.”

“You sound so terrified right now,” she said, breaking into a smile for the first time that day. “It’s their old house. They live in Palm Desert now.”

“I wasn’t terrified,” Max said.

“Liar,” she said. “I’ll text you the address. Come if you dare.”

He couldn’t think about her now. He needed to be focused so he could catch Simone the vampire, how the hell that happened he really wanted to know, and return things back to a normal as they could be considering his circumstances.

Unfortunately that also meant calling Phil. It would be more than an hour before Max got back into town, and he needed his help. With a sigh he picked up his cell phone and made the call.

“Hello?”

“Not this doesn’t mean I forgive you, because I don’t, but I need a favor,” Max said.

“Does it have something to do with Simone Barclay?” Phil asked.

“Yes. Why?”

“There’s something someone needs to tell you.”

________________________________________

As Max took in the news and immediately went on an angry rant about said news, Simone stood outside her home rifling through the bushes trying to find her spare key. After an hour of shuffling around town she’d finally found her way there. She didn’t know what was happening to her or why. But she did know, or rather she hoped that if she just got inside her house, took a nice long bath and perhaps a few pills, and put on some real clothes, everything would start to make sense. At the very least she’d have a cute outfit on and a good buzz.

“Found it!” she exclaimed gleefully.

But when she opened the door and tried to step inside, she could not.

“Oh, come on!” she yelled. “I just want some cute shoes!”

She tried again, and again and again, to no avail.

As she yelled at her doorway using language that would make a sailor blush, her next door neighbor pulled her car into her driveway. When the neighbor saw what looked like a crazy person trying to break into her dead neighbor’s house, she called out, “Hey! Get away from there!”

“This is my house!” Simone yelled back.

“No it’s not!” the neighbor yelled back. “Simone Barclay lived there and she’s dead!”

“Dead?” Simone mumbled.

As she stood there, dumbfounded, she remembered tumbling over the railing at the masquerade party.

“I’m…I’m dead?” Simone mumbled so low only she could hear it.

It took awhile, but everything began to make sense. Waking up in that small, dark space, wearing what she was wearing, her complete lack of tan despite all the time she’d spent at the tanning salon the day before getting just the right bronzed glow. Not to mention that juicy bite she took out of that jogger. She’d seen it in movies countless times.

“Best. Death. Ever!” she exclaimed with an accompanying happy jig.

As she exalted her newly acquired undead status, her neighbor shouted, “I called the cops, so you better get out of here!”

“Do you listen at all?” Simone shouted back. “I told you this is my house!”

“Fine, whatever, the cops will be here in ten minutes,” she said as she started to walk into her own home.

“Never liked her,” Simone muttered to herself.

And then she got an idea.

“She has some nice shoes on,” she said as she crept up behind her neighbor.

________________________________________

“We’re going to find her,” Crawford said as she and Chuck walked the town looking for Simone.

“I’m sure we will,” he said.

“So what’s with the face?” she asked.

“I can’t get anything right,” Chuck said. “No matter what I do, I keep making mistakes.”

“We all make mistakes,” Crawford said with a shrug.

“Back when I was alive, my mistakes didn’t kill people,” he said.

“Well…that’s true, but…”

“But what?” Chuck asked. “I am a killer! I can’t take that back.”

“Why should you?” Crawford asked. “You saved Vanessa’s life.”

“I know that, but it’s such a slippery slope,” he said.

“Kill a few more people; it’ll be all right,” she said with a shrug.

“What is the matter with you?”

She sighed and said, “I know you 21^st century vampires want to be all cuddly and sparkly and everything, but that’s just not how it really is. Being a vampire is violent and dirty and not always pleasant. You are going to make a mess, and you’re going to do that more than once.”

“Says the baby killer.”

“It was one baby and it was the Black Plague,” she said. “Times were hard.”

“Then why do you tell everyone about it?” Chuck asked.

She sighed and did not immediately answer.

“Was it really that difficult of a question?” he asked. “Do you like the attention? Are you just really creepy?”

“Well, I do like the attention, but that’s not it,” she said. “It’s more than that.”

“Feel free to elaborate.”

Crawford sighed and said, “Sometimes…sometimes I miss making a mess.”

With a shake of his head, Chuck said, “I so do not understand that.”

“I don’t understand you, pining after some girl and trying to be good,” Crawford said. “And I honestly don’t want to.”

“I would like to point out that you pushed yourself into my life against my will,” Chuck said.

“Fleetingly, I found you interesting,” she said. “I’m beginning to see you’re just annoying.”

“Wish it was the first time I’d heard that,” he said with a sigh.

“You know what, I’ve had enough of sharing our feelings,” Crawford said. “Let’s just stop talking and find the bitch.”

“Best thing I’ve heard all day.”

________________________________________

Meanwhile, Jamie furiously peddled his bicycle down the road away from his house. He’d escaped out his bedroom window after his mother asked him if he was okay one too many times. How dare she suddenly appear and decide to be a mother for the day? He didn’t just need her at times of crisis. He needed her all the time. Why he didn’t tell her this he didn’t know. It just seemed easier to leave.

So he peddled away towards Kim’s house. They’d been sending e-mails back and forth all day full of mostly nonsense and small talk. It seemed strange to them to talk about what happened the night before over e-mail, so they just didn’t. They just pretended it never happened.

They were stuck with e-mail because Kim was on lockdown. Stuck in Zurich on business, her parents sent their lawyer to look after her. He immediately confiscated her cell phone, laptop and car keys and told her it was for the best as the local press was trying to interview anyone even indirectly related to the events of the night before. But he didn’t do it because he wanted to protect her from being taken advantage of by an ambitious reporter; he did it because her parents didn’t want any bad press while in the middle of a big merger. No one said the words, but no one had to. Kim didn’t let it get her down. She just appreciated that the lawyer didn’t know you could get the Internet on an iPod.

With the lawyer gone for the day, she finally could leave the house. She didn’t have to, but she stood outside to wait for Jamie. It was late at night, but she didn’t feel unsafe outside on a deserted street with only a few street lights. In fact, she liked it. She liked the breeze, the trees, the smells, the seeming silence punctuated by the sounds of nocturnal animals.

Eyes closed, she spun around, enjoying her time away from the confines of the four walls of her room.

When she opened her eyes, she saw Jamie coming around the corner towards the stretch of public beach a few blocks from her home. She instantly broke into a smile, waving her arms wildly in the air to catch his attention.

What she didn’t see, what neither of them saw, was Simone hulking about behind the tall trees hugging the side of the road.

With a sigh she said, “I guess he’ll do.”

She almost felt bad about this one. He was young, and kind of cute. But she was hungry, her neighbor’s blood was less then nourishing as she existed on a diet of grapes and saltines, so he had to go.

Before Jamie could take one hand off his handlebars to wave back, he was gone. One second he was there, the next the bicycle fell to the ground without a rider.

“Come on Jamie! Stop fooling around!” Kim shouted.

But he didn’t hop out and yell, “Just kidding!” like she hoped he would. In fact, she didn’t hear anything. That silence she reveled in minutes earlier wasn’t so reassuring anymore.

Despite her fear, she ran to Jamie’s fallen bicycle. She started looking through the bushes, hoping to find him hiding behind one having a good laugh at her expense. As she looked, she tripped over a tree root and fell to the ground. Her glasses went flying off, leaving her alone in increasingly scary darkness, extremely nearsighted and angry.

“If those are broken, I am going to kill you Jamie!” she exclaimed as she almost blindly searched the ground for the glasses. “They’re Chanel!”

When she did find something, it wasn’t her glasses. It was wet and warm and kind of sticky. She held her hands close to her face to get a better look and could only see red.

“Jamie!” she screamed, a blood curdling, no longer joking around now thoroughly afraid scream. “Jamie!”

Faintly she heard him croak out, “Ki...Kim.”

She crawled around on her hands and knees towards the noise until she found him only a few feet away with his hands clutched to his bleeding neck.

“Oh, my God! What happened?” she asked as she pressed her own hands against the wounds.

“Someone…took me…,” he choked out.

“Where’s your cell phone? Please tell me you have it.”

“Pocket.”

As Kim rifled through his pockets for the phone, she heard approaching footsteps.

She called out, “Who’s there?" only seeing a blur.

But the person, who cast a long shadow over the two teenagers as they approached, said nothing.

“Please, don’t hurt us,” Kim said as her bloody fingers slipped across the smart phone’s touch screen as she frantically tried to dial 911. “Please.”

Finally speaking, the person said, “Don’t worry. I’m here to help.”

Comments

[morgaine2005.wordpress.com]

OH MY GOD!

Not Jamie! Not sweet Jamie! No, no, no! *bites nails*

At least Chuck is around, he won't let his baby bro die, right? Right??

[audiobebop.wordpress.com]

Dear oh dear...I wonder just how things are going to play out now? What if Jamie becomes a vampire too?! What's going to happen?! Ughhhhh I'm on pins and needles here.