Reconanssiance

I wonder if it’s true that nothing exciting ever happens in small towns,

Chris thought in sarcasm, moving through the crowded club. Grabbing the only empty seat at the bar, he ordered a beer on tap, dropping a backpack beside the bar stool. After the first icy swig, he turned to watch the swaying, gyrating bodies that moved on the puppet strings of music.

Rubbing a hand through sand-colored hair he thought, same old scene. He’d watched human souls gather many times in bars through the years, wanting liquid relief from their troubles, drawn to the primordial beat of music, and looking for company. With every sense on alert, his gaze swept the popular club, searching for the signs. There, in the corner, sat two who looked the part with gaunt, shadowed faces and midnight colored eyes. On the dance floor, yes, that definitely was an intense look of hunger. Over by the entry door, a thin young man, his skin pallid, leaned against the door frame, watching.

Normally Chris found them first by their sickly sweet scent, but other odors in the bar covered it. From his count, there were at least five. It seemed the last vamp he’d encountered had been telling the truth after all.

In an effort to save his life, the vamp had told Chris of a coven of vampires who had, in an unusual move, established a home base in this quiet Midwest town. They’d managed to go undetected for some time, which in itself a feat, because the Preservers prided themselves on being informed on all vampire whereabouts.

The overhead lights flashed over the crowd, throwing the dancers into blue shadows. Can’t be, but it sure looks like it. An angel if I’ve ever seen one. Ugh, don’t that sound goofy,

Chris thought as he perused the slim, young girl sitting at the end of the bar. She looked out over the throng, gaze unfocused, with a furrowed brow.

A handsome man sat beside her, trying to get her attention and hold it. As if feeling Chris’s stare, she turned a dazzling smile towards him. Quickly he turned away, grabbing his glass and gulping down the cold amber liquid.

She turned back to her escort. Chris’s keen hearing picked up bits of the quiet conversation between them. He smiled to himself. It sounded like she was getting ready to inform him that she was meeting someone or she wasn’t interested.

Chris hoped it was the second one and not the first. In the dim lighting, her face was thrown into relief and there was a tug on his soul that he hadn’t felt in a long time. His sudden wish for the luxury of dating surprised him.

The angelic smile was in odd contrast to the deep sadness in her eyes. The guy hung on her every word, drunken with the attention. Stale beer, cigarette smoke, heavy perfumes, perspiring bodies and a whiff of the cloying odor of a body on the verge of death bombarded the air and his heightened sense of smell.

Chris stiffened. Damn, not her! Now why couldn’t she just be an ordinary girl that I could just crush on.

Instead she was a Judas goat, tethered here to draw in the coven’s next victim. Reality reasserted its self and suddenly feeling tired, he wondered how they would dispose of the body. Could he intervene fast enough to save the fool’s life?

Picking up her purse from the bar, she headed towards the door, the victim eagerly following. Chris watched as the others in the club he’d noticed earlier, got up, seemingly to wander, but edged closer behind the departing couple. He offered up a quick prayer for the unsuspecting target. Grabbing his backpack he headed towards the nearest fire alarm. Pulling it, he sprinted towards the first exit door.

A few minutes later Chris walked down the sidewalk ahead of the mass of people fleeing the club. He was wondering if the poor enamored soul had met his end, when suddenly the angelic bait sped by him. Now curious, he followed at a discreet distance, not wanting to become her next target. The bar sat close to the outskirts of a small grove of deciduous trees. The moon was full and its silver light illuminated the forest floor clearly.

Skipping with lithe grace, she flung her arms out, fingers brushing the foliage. Twirling, a childlike laugh seemed at odds with the unholy creature’s nature. In wonderment Chris watched fireflies, disturbed by her passing, begin to coalesce into a small, pulsing, neon-lit patch that followed in her wake.

In a small glade she paused, waiting for the incandescent cloud to catch up. Mesmerized, they swirled around, illuminating her slender body. They seemed to kiss her face, her hair, and create a halo around her innocent face.

Like a heavenly sprite she laughed, raising her hands in light-hearted freedom, swaying, dancing to music only she could hear. The excited fireflies flowed with her sinuous moves. The unearthly phosphorus radiance rivaled the moon and silhouetted her ballet.

Chris stood at the fringe of shadow created by the dense foliage watching intently when she stopped, holding out her hands, and tentatively touched the blinking insects. He felt giddy, realizing he’d held his breath during the ethereal performance. He continued to shadow her as she moved off, her glowing friends falling behind reluctantly as if they sensed a shift in mood.

Coming up against a wooden farm fence, she paused, body taut. From the side where he hid in the trees, he watched her features harden, suddenly becoming a lethal huntress. Scanning the field in front of them he looked for an unsuspecting human to be wandering about, instead all he saw were peacefully grazing cows.

Slipping over the fence she floated like an elegant specter. Without a sound she slipped up beside a cow, resting one hand lightly on its shoulder, her other hand at its throat, she bent her head, and seemed to kiss it where her hand had been.

On she moved to the next, then the next, the cows not even raising their heads at her approach. It took Chris a minute to understand what he was seeing. Is she feeding? She can’t be!

In all his years he had never heard of a vamp that could, or would feed on animals. She was proving to be quit an enigma.

A vibration filled the quiet of the night. An irritable sigh reached his ears. Pulling the culprit from her jean pocket she looked at the screen and grimaced. Flipping open the phone she answered tartly, “Yes, I’m on my way back.” Listening, a frown flitted across her face. “It’s not my fault the commotion interrupted the meal.” After another pause she said, “I didn’t think you’d mind if I took a walk. No, I’m in the forest. I’ll be there in a few.”

With a quick snap of her wrist she jammed the phone into her pocket. He could see the tick of a muscle in her jaw as she clamped her teeth together. A cow had raised its head during the conversation and she gave it a quick pat. Suddenly sprinting with the speed and agility of a woodland deer, she headed back towards the club.

Even with his practiced skill of running down fleeing vamps, he had a hard time keeping pace behind her and remain undetected. As she bounded from the woods he caught a glimpse of the black Crown Vic that popped open a door to receive her.

Standing at the edge of the trees he watched the car speed off past the fire trucks in front of the empty club. Definitely would make front page news tomorrow. He might not be able to show his face there for a while, especially if they had surveillance footage. A vibration in his own pocket reminded him the job wasn’t over.

“Hey. Philippe. Yeah, the report was correct, there’s a group here. Not sure of numbers yet. Yeah, I know, soon as possible. But there’s a complication, think this one’s going to interest you.”

To Be Continued....

Impressum

Tag der Veröffentlichung: 03.09.2012

Alle Rechte vorbehalten

Widmung:
Thank you to Yezall Strongheart, for the book cover design.