Luke succumbed to emotional and physical exhaustion from their long and fruitless night out and slept past noon, while Delilah crashed in his guest room. The sound of knocking on his bedroom door finally dragged him out of the tunnel of nightmares he’d been trapped in all night. The door opened a crack; Delilah’s hand entered the room with a mug of coffee. Alfred pushed his way through and hopped onto the bed.
“Sorry about that. He’s being insistent. Anyway, brought you a cup of coffee. There’s a breakfast burrito out here for you, too.”
“Thanks.” Alfred butted up against Luke’s hand, demanding his morning head scratches. The giant orange tabby burst into his “two pack a day” purr. “Alright, buddy. I’ll get up. But I’m pretty sure Delilah fed you already.”
Luke peeled himself out of sheets that had wound around his body from a night spent thrashing. Robe on and coffee in hand, he joined Delilah at the kitchen table. He peeled the wrapper back and dug in, exhaling happily. “I love a greasy, spicy chorizo burrito. It can’t solve all the world’s problems, but while you’re eating one, everything looks alright. Thank you, Delilah.”
“No problem. I figured you could use one after last night. There’s a message on the group text from Pablo.”
Luke took the phone out of his robe’s pocket and opened the message.
Yo, what’s the news on the GPS tracker? Also, you owe me a replacement pair of button up sweatpants.
“Crap, I forgot about the tracker,” Luke said.
Delilah chuckled. “Yeah, I can understand why. Last night was…full.”
Luke refilled their coffees and gestured for Delilah to follow him into his office. He sat down at the desk and turned on his laptop, opening the program he’d installed just for this purpose. He keyed in the ID of the one they’d used last night and waited for the satellite to pinpoint where it had gone. After a few moments, a set of coordinates popped up. He put them into Google Maps and studied the section of map that popped up on his screen.
“Hmmm, looks like just east of Pendleton.” He clicked the directions button. “About four hours with traffic.” Looking up at Delilah, he asked, “Got any plans for today?”
“Not really.”
“Up for a road trip?”
Delilah shrugged. “Sure. Pablo coming?”
“No. He has to work. I’ll text him where we’re going.”
“Yeah. No good driving out to the middle of nowhere and not letting anyone know.”
Luke nodded. “Let me jump in the shower, then we can hit the road.”
Thirty minutes later, coffee transferred to travel mugs, they were headed to the freeway. Delilah tied her phone into the car’s blue tooth stereo and was playing a ‘90s hip hop mix. Neither of them was in the mood to talk. Luke focused on the road, while Delilah looked out the window, watching the scenery change from sprawling city to the trees and rock walls of the Columbia Gorge. Luke turned on the wipers as steady fall drizzle misted his windows.
“Damn, it’s so beautiful here. Everything’s so green. Water falls just shooting out of the rock,” Delilah said.
“Have you not seen the Gorge before? Did you take some other route than I-84 to get to Portland?
“I came through the gorge, but it was dark. I was more worried about getting my tired ass to my friend’s house.”
“Unfortunately, I slept too late and we’re on a tight schedule. I want to get there before it gets too late, not that we’d be able to stop at Multnomah Falls, anyway. Some other day.”
Thirty minutes later, Hood River disappeared in their rear-view mirror and with it, the aggressively verdant nature of the west side of the Cascade Mountains. The trees became sparser. Prairie grass dominated the hills rising alongside the road. The autumn rains had turned them from yellow to a rich green, easing the transition into the drier side of Oregon. Past The Dalles, the last of trees disappeared as rocky hills became scrub brush and grass. Each town they passed was smaller and further than the last.
Once they began the ascent out of the Gorge, the Columbia River began its northerly turn as I-84 took a more southerly direction.
“We’ve got to be getting close to Pendleton. It’s been a while since I’ve been out this way, but we should be close,” Luke said.
Delilah pulled up the maps app on her phone and checked. “Yeah, about fifteen minutes.”
“Grab my laptop. It should be set up to tie into my cell phone for Wi-Fi. Then pull up the GPS program. I want to make sure they haven’t started moving.” The sun was getting close to the horizon, but not quite ready to set.
“Yup. Still at the same coordinates.” She put the numbers into her phone. “OK, about thirty minutes until we’re there.”
After Pendleton, they began climbing again. Pines, spaced sparsely, began to break up the grass again.
“Rest area, two miles ahead. I think that’s it,” Delilah said.
“OK.”
“Deadman Pass, one mile ahead. Really? Deadman Pass?” Delilah asked.
“It would appear the vampires have a sense of humor,” Luke replied, his tone flat.
They pulled off at Exit 228 and found their way to the rest area.
“It’s pretty empty. Pull up next to the restrooms. I need a brief detour before we figure out what’s going on,” Delilah said.
“That’s not a bad idea. It’ll look more natural and help relieve the pressure on my bladder.”
Luke parked close to the restrooms and turned off the car. After he came back out, he walked around the building in an effort to get his bearings. They were quickly losing the light as the sun began to set. A few sporadic lamp posts scattered faint pools of light around the parking lot. The trees around the edges of the lot obscured his view, but he thought he saw a box van parked in the very back corner.
“You see anything?” Delilah asked as she walked up behind him.
Luke pointed toward the back corner of the lot. “That’s the only other vehicle parked here, and it matches Pablo’s description.”
“Do you sense any vampires?”
Luke concentrated. “No. It feels clear.
He turned and walked back to the car, checking the GPS on his laptop one last time to ensure it was still pinging from this location. It was. They climbed back in and slowly drove past the van but saw no sign of anyone around. Luke pulled into a parking spot far enough away to not be suspiciously close. He slung on a baldric and snapped his gladius to it as Delilah strapped on her machete. Grabbing a set of bolt cutters, he shut the rear hatch. They checked one more time to see if anyone new had pulled off the freeway, then casually walked over.
Luke peeked into the cab. No one. They checked under the van, but nothing was flashing or ticking. Confident that everything looked normal, they proceeded to the roll-up door.
“OK, let’s do it,” Luke said.
Checking to be sure they weren’t being watched, he clipped the padlock. It fell to the ground with a clunk. Luke set the bolt cutters aside and drew his slid his sword, checking to see if Delilah was ready. She nodded and pulled out her machete. Luke quickly flipped the latch and yanked open the roll door. He pulled back, sword at the ready.
The box van was completely empty, save for the GPS unit sitting in the middle of the floor. Luke stuck his head in and looked around for traps or cameras or any other sign of anything out of the ordinary. He shrugged at Delilah and climbed in.
They’d drawn a series of cartoonish hands surrounding the GPS, all flipping the bird. Luke shook his head in annoyance. He took a picture with his phone and sent it to Delilah so she could see, while she kept watch outside for anyone approaching.
“Wow. They’re really taunting you.”
Luke picked up the GPS and looked it over. Seeing nothing amiss, he put it in his pocket.
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Delilah asked. “Taking it home. What if they took the number and hacked it?”
“That’s a good point.” Sleeve over his hand, he took it back out and wiped away any fingerprints. Then he stomped it to pieces with the heel of his boot.
“I guess that solves that,” Delilah said. “Did we just drive all the way out here for nothing?”
Luke shrugged. “I guess, but it was a nice drive, and you got to see some scenery.”
Delilah nodded. “We should head back.”
“Sure. I’ll buy you dinner.” Luke hopped out of the truck and headed back.
Delilah opened her door, gathering up the empty bottles and snack trash to toss in the nearby garbage can. After so many nights driving around Portland hunting vamps, the debris had piled up. Luke threw his gladius in the back. A breeze blew a piece of trash out of the open hatch and onto the ground. Luke bent over to pick it up. A gunshot ripped the silence, sending glass raining down on Luke as it shattered the rear window of his Volvo.
He hit the ground. Reaching up, he ran his hand over some rough cloth on the way to his gladius. The Kevlar vest he’d bought for Delilah tumbled out.
“Luke! Behind you!” Delilah yelled.
He scrambled around the Volvo as gunshots sprayed pavement where he’d just been laying. He ran to the front of the car. Delilah was still crouching behind the garbage can.
“Get behind a tree!” Luke yelled.
Hunching behind the engine, he pulled the Kevlar vest over his head and cinched it. It felt awkward with his hoodie and T-shirt bunched underneath. Foot falls slapped the pavement. Yanking the gladius from its sheath, he tossed the scabbard aside and ran out from his cover, bellowing to draw their attention. The first person who saw him skidded to a halt, eyes widening as Luke adjusted course to intercept.
Another shot rang out, whizzing by Luke’s head. Raising a gun in his trembling hands, the man screamed as Luke hacked through his arm just above the wrist. The gun tumbled to the pavement with a clack. The man hunched over, cradling his bleeding stump. Luke swapped the gladius to his left hand and picked up the gun, keeping the man between him and the direction of the gunfire.
He spotted the shooter about a hundred and fifty yards back in the grove of pine trees, straight behind the man he’d delegated to human shield. Dashing out, Luke made for the box van to draw their fire away from Delilah, taking pot shots to force them to duck. Once they dove into the dirt, Luke barreled around the van, stopping at the front tire to put the entire engine block between him and the shooter.
Whoever it was scrambled along, trying to keep hidden behind the skinny, younger pine trees as they worked their way toward Luke. Setting his gladius on the ground, Luke rested his arms across the hood of the box van, gripping the pistol with two hands, and took aim. As soon as the shooter broke from their last hiding spot, Luke pulled the trigger. The shooter dropped. It was hard to tell from this distance if they would get back up.
Cautiously, he stepped around the van and walked toward the fence. Without the echoing report of gunfire, the breeze carried both the moans of the man missing his hand and the groans of the second shooter. Luke popped the magazine out to check how many shots he had left—two in the magazine, one in the pipe. He hopped the fence and crouched behind trees, dodging from trunk to trunk, following the pained whimpers. He spotted movement and dodged behind a tree.
The thrall he’d shot writhed on the ground, both hands over his chest. The closer Luke got, the more gurgly the gasps of air sounded. The shiny metallic silver of the gun made it easy to spot among the natural greens and browns. Luke picked it up and stashed it in his pocket.
“Hurry! He’s killed Benjy and Chip,” came a harsh whisper that had grown too loud. Whoever it was wasn’t being careful enough; they moved through the underbrush breaking twigs and rustling the dry vegetation.
“It’s almost dark. Tell the masters if they want him, he’s here.”
Luke heard a beep and some cursing. When a branch snapped close by, he raised the pistol and took aim. Another thrall stepped into the small clearing, tentatively raising a semiautomatic pistol.
“Drop it, or I’ll put one in your chest,” Luke said.
The thrall warred with indecision, eyes flicking between the gun in Luke’s hands and his face. Luke raised it slightly. That was enough for the thrall; he dropped his weapon.
“Step back and keep backing up until I say stop.” Luke moved to where the thrall had dropped the gun and scooped it up, adding it to his collection. Splitting his attention between the thrall backing away and the surrounding ground, Luke backed up until he was next to the body that had gone still.
“Luke?” Delilah called. “You back there?”
“Stay by the car. I’ll be out shortly,” Luke replied.
The dying rays of the sun glinted off a small black object on the ground. Squatting down, Luke took one hand off the gun and picked up a plastic box with a button on it.
“Hey, asshole,” Luke called. “What’s this?” He held it up to see.
The thrall didn’t say anything, so Luke stood up and pulled the hammer back on his gun.
“It’s a detonator!” the thrall said.
“Why didn’t you use it when we were in the van?” Luke asked.
“He wanted your stuff.” The thrall nodded toward the body at Luke’s feet.
“That worked out well for him. Keep backing away.” Luke retreated as well, carefully minding his footing.
When he could no longer see the thrall, he turned and ran out of the grove, hopping over the fence. He made straight for the car.
Luke scanned around. “Delilah, where’s lefty?”
She pointed toward the fence thirty yards from the box van. The thrall sat against one of the posts, cradling his stump.
“Thrall, you should probably move away from that van.” Luke tossed his gladius into the back of his Volvo and dumped all three guns in the plastic tub. “Let’s go, Delilah.”
He set the detonator on the console and climbed in. Luke backed up and took off. As they reached the turn for the on-ramp, Luke pushed the button. In the rear-view mirror, he watched the van blow off the ground, flames shooting out along the pavement. Within a second, the flames reached the gas in its tank and ignited, completing its destruction. Luke lost the view as they drove under the freeway and onto the on-ramp. He smiled vengefully at the flames licking the sky as they merged and drove away.
“We better get the hell out of here in case someone comes to inspect the fireball that just launched into the sky,” Delilah said.
Now that they were safe, adrenaline began to fade and fury crept in. They’d driven all the way out there just to be shot at by thralls. They’d learned nothing new and nearly been killed—one more fucking dead end in an endless line of failures. All the recriminations that’d been rolling around in the back of Luke’s head leapt forward, front and center, blaming him loudly for every loss he’d suffered these last few months. If he didn’t interrupt this thought cycle, he’d spiral down into full despondency.
Luke shook his head and sighed. “Delilah, I think we could use some road music.”
Delilah smiled and nodded. Her thumbs were busy typing something into her phone. She grinned and looked over at Luke.
“Here you go, Bandit.” A banjo and some strings introduced Jerry Reed’s lyrics.
“‘West Bound and Down?’ OK. Although, this isn’t much of a Trans-Am…” The silly song choice ground Luke’s growing despair to a halt as he bobbed his head to the plucky banjo sounds. “Good choice. Thanks.”
* * *
“And you just left them alive?” asked Pablo, taking a break from the Howling Moon lunch crowd to get a first-hand account of their wild goose chase.
“I don’t kill thralls if I can avoid it. They might have a chance to turn away from their masters. They didn’t cause too much mischief, just took out my car’s rear window.” Luke raised his pint toward Delilah and nodded in appreciation for all her good work.
“We got lucky. That’s for sure,” she replied.
Pablo folded his arms across his chest. “I’m all for excitement and getting some kicks, but I’m glad I had to work last night. Shoveling spent grain sounds a lot more enjoyable than getting shot at and almost blown up. Where does this leave us?”
“Back at virtually square one, except light several tanks of gas.” Luke’s tone was biting. His jaw was clenched when he wasn’t speaking as his mood teetered back and forth between depression and frustration, and the warmth of the company of his friends.
Luke collected himself and took a drink of his beer. “Tonight, let’s make a rotation around the camps. We can see if anyone else is missing, try to find a vampire or two. I’ll keep scouring the news for anything unusual that might point us in the right direction. Really, though, we need a break. I thought we might get one with our previous attempts, but not so much.”
“What can we do to help?” Delilah asked.
Pablo nodded along. “Maybe we can split up and hit multiple spots?”
“No. As much as I’d like to do that, the groups have been too big. I wouldn’t want any of us running into a swarm of vampires without backup. I’m not sure I want to have to recover from another epic beat down.” Luke sighed. “Damn it. It never should’ve gotten this far.”
“There’s nothing we can do about the past at this point, dude,” Pablo replied. “Maybe the pack can help…”
Luke perked up. Having a bunch of werewolves would certainly go a long way towards sniffing out the vampire nests infesting Portland. “That would be a boon, for sure.”
Pablo smiled. “I’ll talk to Holly and see if we can enlist the pack. We’ll just need to remember to save the clothes afterward.”
“Do vampire bodies…corpses…goo smell the same as live vampires?” Delilah asked.
Thinking about it for a few moments, Pablo nodded. “Yeah, pretty similar. Close enough anyway that we should be able to sweep some neighborhoods and sniff them out.”
“What kind of range does your nose have?” asked Luke.
“Quite a bit if the wind is right, but I’ve never done any clinical trials, especially not with vampire remains. We can do some science when we find one.”
“It’s worth checking out, that’s for sure,” Luke replied. “When can you talk to Holly?”
“When she gets back in town. She’s at a conference.”
“A werewolf conference?” Delilah asked, grinning cheekily.
“No. Herbalife.”
It was the deadpan delivery that got them. Luke’s eyebrows shot up. Delilah, who had been taking a drink, exhaled, spraying a mist of beer out of her glass.
“Seriously?” Luke asked, while Delilah worked to keep from choking on her beer.
“Nah, I’m messing with you. It’s a national conference for public defenders. I can’t remember the exact name.”
“Holly’s a public defender? I didn’t know that,” Luke said. “Well, I guess I’ve only had the one interaction with her. She was more interested in asking me questions, so we never got to the usual getting to know you chitchat. I guess that explains her cross-examination skills.”
Pablo nodded. “Yeah, she was definitely trotting out ‘Professional’ Holly. Good thing she’s got Sam. Holly can be a little too serious at times, and you’ve met Sam. So, you know what I’m talking about.”
“Is Sam Holly’s husband?” asked Delilah, who’d finally recovered from her spit take.
“Holly’s wife,” Pablo clarified. “Samantha, but she prefers Sam. Although, I’ve heard Holly call her ‘Sayumi’ a few times when she thinks no one is in earshot. Most of us don’t use our birth names on any current documents.”
“Yeah. ‘Luke Irontree’ is the closest I’ve gotten in a while to mine.”
“Most of the time, I forget you’re a couple of old farts, but conversations like this…” Delilah shook her head. “Well, I guess if I need some new papers, I know who to talk to.”
“We’re a couple of spring chickens!” Pablo protested.
Luke chuckled. “Well, spring chicken, you’re driving tonight since you haven’t had anything to drink, and my Volvo is down a window. If you two are ready, we can continue this conversation on the road.”
* * *
For two weeks, they circled the city, visiting every camp and popular gathering place, only to find nary a trace of a vampire. It was as if they’d all packed up and left Portland. Each night, Delilah, Luke, and Pablo were growing more frustrated with their lack of progress. The normally copacetic crew had begun to snipe at each other for no reason. It didn’t help that Holly had denied Luke’s request to enlist the pack. He knew his friend had done his best to argue their case, but it hadn’t been enough.
“She doesn’t care if I hang out with you and chase vampires all over the city—it’s my time, as long as it doesn’t interfere with my pack duties. But she thinks if the pack joins in, it could endanger the pack, its secrecy, and put us squarely in the cross hairs of the vampires. I tried, but she wasn’t having it, dude.”
Luke understood. The fact that she let Pablo come out with him at all illustrated her trust in Pablo. It also proved that she wasn’t the type of packleader that believed in controlling every aspect of pack life. Pablo still kept coming out with Luke and Delilah, even arranging his work schedule to be free as much as he could. Luke didn’t want to press it too far for fear of losing Pablo’s aid, or their newly blossoming friendship.
Any news of unexplained disappearances or bizarre deaths had stopped entirely. No more empty sets of cut-up clothes covered in a mysterious dark goo were found. The city was cautiously optimistic and hoping for a quiet Thanksgiving.
No one said a word as they sat parked in Pablo’s truck along a dark, deserted street in the west hills. Expanding the searches hadn’t yielded a single thing; the vampires weren’t anywhere in Portland’s outer neighborhoods. The silence filling the truck’s cab was the result of a terse near-argument about what to do next. Luke took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.
“You know what? Fuck it. Let’s pack it in and take tomorrow night off. We’re not getting anywhere right now, and we could use a night to ourselves.”
Pablo and Delilah nodded heartily as Pablo fired up the truck and pulled out onto the street to North Portland. Luke stared out the window, mind drifting to a time when his life was simpler and his enemies easier to understand.