“Christopher,
Chris, come over... Chris!”
I sat in the red
leather booth at the back of the bar sipping a cold beer and ignoring the
shouting. On the walls were wooden panels that gave the bar a mock hunting
lodge style, with old black and white pictures of the first settlers in
stiffened poses. Nailed to the walls, were old wooden style skis, ski poles,
and an old sledge giving an insight into times past. Sat at the tables in
front, two couples crowded around enjoying drinks and a plate of nachos as they
re-told tales of their day’s skiing; the crashes, arguments, speeds and fears.
A dark haired man in a thick red fleece retold the tale of his crash, and how
his girlfriend, the blonde haired woman next to him, had helped him up. She
reattached his skis then re-gathered his hat and poles still laying scattered
in the snow further up the mountain. He looked adoringly into her eyes while
gently stroking her arm, and she leant in to share a tender kiss. They
continued laughing at the tales, poured back the cold beer and crunched on the
nachos as they enjoyed the après ski debriefing.
I sat alone in
the bar supping my beer surrounded by the occupants of the booths either side
discussing their own tales of the day.
In the next
booth along with ski shoes hanging off the wall, I heard them discussing plans
for tomorrow. Off for a ride with the Huskies, a short ski then a meal at the
Chinese. To the side a TV flashed with images of the ice hockey. The Calgary
Flames centre slipped past a defender, then flashed in the puck to the side of
the keeper to make it 4-2 against Vancouver. A couple of the locals clapped in
celebration.
I drank more
beer and continued playing with my phone, checking the news and the weather
forecasts in an attempt to block out the normal happy couples surrounding me.
“Chris, come over!”
I wished Christopher, whoever he was, would
get a move on as the noise was disturbing my thoughts.
It had been a
strange day for my eighteenth birthday. I had spent it on the slopes at Lake
Louise in Canada. I had plenty of stories to tell of my own day’s skiing as
well; carving down the slopes, cutting up snowboarders and doing my first mini
jump. I had been in Canada for a month, and in that time I had gone from
complete novice to good skier. My newly strengthened body through the vampire
formula and from time training with Thorn had meant I learnt quickly. My
instincts and senses had radically improved through the three vampire formula
needles I had injected. The formula gave me the power of a vampire for the
night. However, after the effects had worn off I had grown more powerful in my
human form. I had grown taller, more muscular and my senses improved each time.
It was as if the vampire formula had stretched my limits and I could never
return to my original body. The psychic powers came along last as a vampire,
but some of it still remained in human form. Just the odd snap-shot or
detection of emotions. Not major mind-reading like Thorn, or my vampire self,
but I wasn’t your normal eighteen year old either.
During this
time, Thorn had insisted I kept up my vampire training even with the additional
exercise of skiing nearly every day. We still sparred a few nights a week, and
she sent me down to the hotel gym to use the weights, and the cycle or
treadmill. On top of the physical training, I continued to enhance my computer
skills by trying to hack into the databases of the Hunters and the military
research centre that had held Thorn
prisoner. I hadn’t breached it yet, but the practice had improved my skills;
allowing me to create false identities and records to cover our tracks.
“V,
get over here I have been calling you,” Thorn’s psychic voice interrupted
my thoughts.
I looked up
across the bar at Thorn. She had toned down her dress sense after fleeing
England. She wore faded blue jeans, black calf boots, and a grey sweater. Her
raven tousled hair was swept back and tied in a knot. A time and place for
everything and trying to fit in, she had said, but she still stood out with her
sky blue eyes and skin flawless like white silk. She could wear a sack and
still be the most attractive woman in the room. I was a lucky man.
She waved me
over, from where she stood engaged in conversation with a smartly groomed
couple in their early thirties, dressed in expensive designer label après ski
wear.
“Chris! Come
over!” Thorn shouted across the bar once again.
Oh, I forgot
that Christopher Lee was my new alias. Thorn had chosen it as my new public
name, but the meaning had been lost on me. She had to explain that Christopher
Lee is well known for playing Dracula in horror films. She does like to mix the
fact with the fiction. I couldn’t go by my vampire name of Vengeance, or V as
Thorn called me. It wasn't a name for public consumption. My real name,
Jonathan Harper, couldn’t be used either as I was a wanted man by the police in
the UK for eight killings - seven killings as a vampire and one as a human, when
I killed Barry McGown. I had kept count, but wasn’t sure for how much longer I
would. When Barry died, I imagined and believed Jonathan Harper also died that
day, and that I, Vengeance, had been born instead of Jonathan. Only after
fleeing England did the remnants of my true identity come seeping back into my
conscience. I remembered my real name and my past life. Flash backs in my
sleep, dreams of stabbing Barry in the stomach and defeating the hideous
monster he turned into. I woke up many times thinking it was just a dream, only
to open my eyes and see Thorn, my vampire lover, and remembered the truth.
I took a few
large mouthfuls of beer and sauntered over to Thorn and the smartly groomed
couple. Thorn opened a welcoming arm and shepherded me into her side.
“Here he is at
last, you were lost in a dream world over there,” she said.
The man stood
six foot tall with blond floppy hair and grey blue eyes. He wore a smart red
fleece with jeans and brown shoes. The man looked smug and arrogant delighting
in his position of being my elder and he believed himself to be considerably
better. But he didn’t know what I could do and what I had done.
The woman was dressed
in the same red fleece, accompanied with white leggings and black boots. Her
blonde hair in a long bob and face covered in makeup. She raised her overly
plucked eyebrows and offered a surprised smile as she looked back and forth
between Thorn and me. The normal reaction. Thorn's stunning beauty turned the
heads of both the sexes. Back in London the amazed look had been more
pronounced, but my own changes and appearance now began to turn a few heads
especially with young women. My eyes were turning an icy blue, and I had
developed a strong jaw line, defined muscles and broad shoulders.
“Sorry, Tracey,
I think my mind was still on the slopes,” I replied to Thorn.
Thorn, like me,
had an alias for everyday life. Her alias was Tracey Horn, T. Horn, Thorn. A
little play on words that amused her and allowed for mistakes.
“You should have
seen him fly down those slopes. Only been doing it a few weeks as well,” Thorn
said, entwining her arm into mine and smiling.
Thorn had been
good to her word and after eliminating the last gang member, Barry McGown, we
had left London to travel. She had asked what I would like to do first. Skiing,
I had answered. I had lived near a snow dome in Leeds and been occasionally, but
had always wanted to be able to do it properly on real snow. So, first stop was
Canada: Banff and then Lake Louise. Thorn had been there before and the Canada
winter suited her delicate skin condition - strong UV light could make her
burst into flames. The ice cold temperature meant everyone wrapped head to foot
in ski gear, hats, goggles, masks and anything else to block out the cold, and
for Thorn it also meant it blocked out the UV. That combined with a hefty slap
of sun block and a dose of cloud cover, meant Thorn could venture out and take
to the slopes on the occasional days, or late afternoons.
Unfortunately
that day, my birthday, it had been too sunny and I had spent my birthday mostly
by myself. I wasn't allowed to make friends with any of the other skiers or
snowboarders due to my wanted status. Also Thorn didn't know it was my birthday
either. I hadn't told her, I couldn't see the point of celebrating my birthday
with someone who had over seven hundred of them.
“What runs did
you do?” the man asked.
“Started off on
the blues and threw in a few black runs at the end of the day,” I said.
“Really! Already?”
the man replied, eye brows raised as he stifled the shock in his voice.
“Yeah, he did.
He’s a very fast learner. Plus he had an excellent teacher,” Thorn said,
laughing.
“Yes. She is
good,” I added, and put my arm around her waist and squeezed her gently towards
me.
Thorn giggled
and knocked back her vodka and tonic.
“I haven’t
introduced you yet. Chris, this is Markus and Janine,” Thorn said.
“Please to meet
you,” I said, and stretched out my hand.
I gently shook
Janine’s hand as she weakly offered it. Then Markus tried to exert himself by
placing a firm hand shake, but I replied with a stronger grip than he
anticipated and he retracted his hand back, his face flinching at the
unexpected pressure.
“Markus is a
banker,” Thorn said.
“Oh,” I replied,
and I instantly knew the plan without any psychic communication between us.
Thorn had received
some bad news on some investments following the bank crashes and had spent an
evening cursing. She then got herself involved in a number of bar fights in the
nearest town to relieve the pent up rage. I guessed Markus offered revenge by
proxy.
“Yes. I know
what people think, but not my fault. We have all suffered. My bonus was slashed
in half this year. I only got £100k. As a result we had to come here for our
annual ski trip instead of Cloisters,” he said, sipping at his red wine.
I shook my head
and tensed my jaw to control an outburst. I would enjoy tonight.
“So what do you
do?” Markus asked, with a smug look on his face.
“Oh, Chris is a
multi million pound business man through phone and tablet games development,”
Thorn answered for me.
“I am?” I thought.
“Yes, you are,” Thorn thought back.
Markus’ whole
body deflated; he had been out gunned financially as well.
Markus had that
arrogant air bound to him. He had an attitude that said I was born into a
better class than you. I bet he never went to an inner city school and suffered
constant bullying. He probably went to a private school, his Daddy got him the
job in the city through his connections at the gentlemen's club. Life was so
easy for people like him. Yet he still complained about his bonus while the
country dived into recession and people lost their jobs and homes.
His blond hair
flopped across his face as he barely contained a small snarl as he glared at
me.
“He thinks he is better than you. Are you
going to take it?” Thorn's words psychically spoke to me.
“You do it if you want his blood,” I
replied.
“It’s part of your training.”
“You’re being lazy.”
“Just do it,” she snapped back into my
thoughts, “I want to watch. People think vampires suck the life force out of
people. We have nothing on bankers.”
Why not, he was
annoying me anyway.
“Problem, with
that?” I asked, returning the glare.
“err.. No,” he
said.
“Seemed like you
got a bit annoyed by the fact I was better than you.”
His forehead
frowned and lips straighten for a split second, then he returned to his smug
grin.
“You are not
better than me,” he replied, flicking back his blond floppy hair.
Janine's nose
wrinkled in disgust and her arm wrapped around his for back up.
“Oh. Is that a
challenge?” I asked.
“What, oh grow
up boy,” he said.
“Put your toy
boy on a leash,” Janine said to Thorn.
“He does as he
likes,” Thorn snapped back and faced up to her.
“I saw the way
you two were looking at my girlfriend. You thought you could pick her up for a
threesome,” I added.
“No, we did not,”
Markus said, looking aghast.
“Why, what is
wrong with her? She’s much better looking than that horsey bitch you are with,”
I said, delighting in the game.
“Nice one,” Thorn thought to me.
“How dare you
speak to us like that you jumped up little nerd,” Markus shouted and threw his
drink into my face.
I wiped it off
and Thorn held me back. Markus had started to show his true colours.
“Not in here.
Outside,” Thorn said.
“It will be a
pleasure to show you how a real man conducts himself,” Markus said.
We had attracted some attention. The
waitresses had paused with hot snacks and cold drinks balanced on trays. The
customers had stopped with cutlery half way to their mouth's and glasses half
raised, only the sound of the ice hockey game on the TV filled the void of
sudden silence.
Markus and
Janine stood to one side and gestured us through with ironic good manners. As Thorn
and I marched outside, I sensed him sweeping up a bottle and following us
quickly from behind. As we approached the door I focused my senses expecting
the bottle to be swiped at the back of my head any second. We went through the
door into the cold and the bottle came. I span out the way and stepped inside
his blow and judo threw him out onto the snow. Janine launched herself onto my
back scratching at my face and howling like a banshee. I threw her over my
shoulder, dumped her hard into the ground and stepped over her. Thorn would
take care of her as she doesn’t like me hurting women, but had no problems
doing it herself. Thorn twisted the handle on the door to the bar and shoved a
bench against it to prevent any interference.
Markus rolled
over in the snow smashing the bottle and stood back up to face me. I had no
vampire formula in my blood, just normal human blood.
He sliced the
air with the broken bottle just inches away. His face seethed red and spit snarled
through gritted teeth. He lurched forward swinging the bottle back and forth in
front of my face.
I flashed back
to that dark night with Barry, when I confronted him for the last time. I
pictured him slashing the air with a knife, and our struggle on the muddy
ground until I won through my rage. Defeated he revealed the truth about his
involvement and Scarlett's betrayal. I had then repeatedly stabbed the knife
into his stomach until the blood slicked onto my hands.
I lost my concentration as I relived the final
moments of Barry's life. I slowed for a second, then Markus slashed across my
front. The jagged bottle sliced open my left hand as I instinctively shoved it
out to defend. I jumped back watching the blood dripping out staining the snow
red. The cold air bit into the wound and I gritted my teeth. It should have
slowed me down and made me cautious, but the memories of fighting Barry
triggered an urged to fight.
Markus smiled,
encouraged by drawing first blood, expecting the young boy to run off scared.
He cut the air between us, jumped and swiped again. I kicked snow up into his face,
pirouetted around his side with my arm spinning in a back fist connecting clean
onto his jaw. He dropped forward into the snow like a dead man. I turned to
Thorn who held Janine around the neck forcing her to watch.
“Is that it?”
Thorn said.
“Yes, it’s what
you wanted.”
“I wanted you to
take your time and make him bleed and beg. I wanted him to apologise for
ruining all those people’s lives.”
“Well, say so
next time. Let’s go.”
Thorn flung
Janine into the wall knocking her out cold, then ran and scooped up her meal
taking it into the woods behind the bar. I left her to it and walked down the
side streets weaving my way back through dark alleys and icy covered paths. I
could hear the sirens getting closer as I moved through the streets, then saw a
flash of blue down the main road as they screamed off to the bar.
I headed back to our car which had been parked
at the back of a supermarket about a mile away from the bar. Thorn would feed and
catch me up, and then we would drive off. Everything had been packed and placed
in the boot, but she hadn't let on to our next destination.
I sat in the car
staring at the lights glowing out from the supermarket illuminating the late
night shoppers, who were wheeling full trolleys of goods out to their cars. The
car had been parked at the back in a dark corner away from the security cameras
and other passersby's.
It was a strange
way to celebrate an eighteenth birthday. If my life hadn't changed, due to the
encounter with Thorn and the vampire needles, I had planned to be out for a special
meal with Scarlett. May be the next day a small celebration with my Dad.
Hopefully lots of cards and presents from my relatives. The truth was I spent
most of my birthday alone, and I couldn't even let on it was my birthday as it
would have raised too many questions.
A few minutes
later Thorn arrived at the car. She opened up the driver's door and climbed in.
“Feeling better?” I asked.
“Much, thank you,” she replied, her
cheeks and lips shone red with a post meal glow.
“So where next?” I asked, hoping she
would finally reveal the details of our next location.
“As it's your birthday I have a
surprise.”
“You knew? So where are we going?”
“Of course I knew it was your
birthday. We are going to Vegas and a vampire convention.”
“Cool. Real vampires?”
“Not normally, it's for fans of the genre.
However, we are meeting a real vampire there, a man called Cassius. He will
give you the answers you crave about the history of the vampires. He will help
us take our vengeance against the Hunters and discover the truth behind the
formula.”
“Excellent, let's go. I can't wait
to meet other vampires,” I responded eager to get to Vegas.
At last the answers were coming.
