Chapter 7

The Vampire

In the evening, the Foggy Dew could get hotter than a whorehouse on a nickel night. After supper, I often fancied a stroll about town to stretch my legs and cool down. A steady breeze blew from the flatlands beyond the buildings, where small whirlwinds of dust formed. Looked like tiny tornadoes, but they could barely blow your hat off. It was all we had as far as sights to see. Not exactly the Grand Canyon, but watching the spirals of dancing dust could take your mind off things if you were losing in cards or missing your sweetheart.

The dust could get in your eyes, but if you kept your head down while you walked, it wasn’t unpleasant. The sky was the same old gray mop with yellow and violet swirls. No flashes of lightning showed, nor could any rumblings of thunder be heard. The dusk always made me miss the warmth of sunlight on my cheeks. The dimness played tricks on my eyes, and I nearly ran into Ms. Parker and Buddy before I recognized them out in front of the wolves’ saloon.

“They sure are loud in there,” Ms. Parker remarked. “How many werewolves are there anyway?”

“Not as many as us,” I told her. “Maybe one for every five men. They’re a rambunctious lot, so it sounds like more. Quick buggers, too—not as quick as the vampire, but you’d be lucky to shoot one before it got you, if it was so inclined.”

“Do you need silver bullets to kill ’em?” Buddy asked. “Like in them storybooks.”

“Nah, regular ones’ll do. They die like dogs. And they stick together in a pack, so if you send one to hell, the rest’ll chew you to bits.” Ms. Parker shuddered and took a worried step back. “Ah, they don’t have much use for us, ma’am. They prefer a warm-blooded meal, same as the vampire. If they can’t get one, they’d much rather have a cow than a cold, bony human.”

“Speak for yourself.” Buddy patted his belly playfully.

“I’ve never seen a werewolf before,” Ms. Parker said. “What are they like?”

“They change in and out of human form as they please, ma’am. When they turn into wolves, some are bigger than lions.”

“What’s with the sign?” Buddy pointed to the bones hanging from a post at the end of the road.

“It’s the remains of a couple a newbies,” I explained. “Their first night in town, they lost all their money and got kicked out of the rooming house for causing a ruckus, so they cold-crouched it in the flatlands outside of town. They hadn’t been around long enough to know hunger wouldn’t kill them. It kept gnawing at them. Didn’t know who had claim on the cattle neither, so when a steer wandered down the road, they figured they’d cut it up for rib eyes. They knocked it down and splayed it open with a sharpened stone, then hacked out hunks of meat and cooked them over a fire.

“Argus, the wolf pack leader, smelt the meat burning. Like I said, wolves don’t care much for the taste of men. We’re too salty and skinny, worse than eating crow, I suppose. But Argus raced out and chewed them two newbies to bits anyway. He ate them real slow, like a kid swallowing brussels sprouts with a sourpuss. Could hear them crying for hours. Eventually, they bled out. Argus licked the bones clean and made that sign saying cows with the arrow pointing toward the wolves’ saloon. Pretty good incentive for folks to order pork, I’d say. Since then, relations with the wolves been somewhat shaky, but they ain’t bothered us none.”

Just then, a large brown wolf wandered out the front door of the saloon. He searched the sky for the moon. Not finding it, he sniffed the well-traveled planks of the boardwalk. His haunches were nipple-high on a short woman and he was thick as a boar. He turned to us as he caught our scent and his eyes glowed red like hot coals. Suddenly, he began running straight toward us. Before we knew what was happening, he sprung into the air and landed on top of Ms. Parker. Buddy drew as quick as he could, but a smaller gray wolf came from behind and clamped down on his wrist, shaking the pistol from his grip. The big wolf sniffed at Ms. Parker’s belly, snarling like it was hungry for whatever she’d eaten last. The weight of his paws pressed her to the ground, so she couldn’t squirm away.

My flimsy cane wouldn’t have done much damage, so I looked for a loose plank to strike the mutt. Just my luck, it was probably the only stretch in town where the boardwalk wasn’t rotted out. Buddy’s pistol lay on the ground nearby, so I hobbled over to pick it up, wondering if it was even worth it. Shooting the beast would just attract more of them. It’d also be trading the possibility of heaven for a lady who probably wasn’t going to last the month anyhow. But if my wife had come to a place like Damnation, I certainly hoped someone looked after her. Surely Ms. Parker hadn’t hesitated so long in stabbing the Chicken Choker to save my worthless hide. I raised the gun to the wolf’s back and pulled the trigger. It misfired. On hearing the click, the wolf swatted me to the ground with one paw.

Its teeth were about to pierce her stomach when a burst of wind roared down the road with the strength of a full-sized twister, sending loose wood and shingles through the air. Then a dark form swept down on the wolf and tossed it across the road like a tumbleweed. The vampire stood in the middle of the road with his fangs out, hissing like a cat defending a saucer of milk. The smaller wolf left off tussling with Buddy to jump at his back with teeth bared, but the vampire turned just in time and caught it by the throat. Lifting the beast in the air with ease, he heaved it through the window of an abandoned storefront.

The bigger wolf was on its feet again and lunged for the vampire’s leg with teeth as long as sheep shears. The vampire stepped back but wasn’t quick enough and his calf got punctured. He looked more surprised than pained, like old folks who are shocked when their bodies don’t move as quick as they used to. He swung his other leg angrily at the wolf’s ribs, causing it to yelp. While it lay panting and wheezing, he gripped its hindquarters and heaved it through the window of another abandoned storefront, shattering the dusty glass. Both wolves were cut up pretty good. Bloody shards of glass were sticking out from their fur as they ran off whimpering.

“Thank you for saving us,” Ms. Parker said after she caught her breath. “Mister..?”

“Nigel,” he replied curtly.

“Thank you, Mr. Nigel.”

“Just Nigel, ma’am.”

He had a funny accent, sounded real proper-like, which caught me off guard knowing he’d torn a man’s hand off just for introducing himself. Then again, the pigs we ate probably didn’t reckon we were too sophisticated neither. As Buddy got to his feet, he eyed Nigel up warily.

“They would’ve killed us for sure if you hadn’t come along,” she said.

“Ah, they might not have,” Buddy grew a tad defensive. “I was just about to get the upper hand on that wolf. Once I got my gun back, I woulda plugged that other mutt. But thanks for the assistance n’all.”

“I thought werewolves didn’t attack people,” Ms. Parker said.

“I ain’t seen it happen before.” I shrugged. “’Cept them boys who took a cow. They usually leave us alone ’less we get between them and a meal.”

“It is not you that they were after, ma’am.” Nigel limped closer while bracing his wounded leg. “It’s what’s inside of you.”

“Inside of me?”

“There is warm blood in you, ma’am.”

“But she’s dead like everyone else in Damnation,” I told him. “Drowned herself in a lake—pardon me for saying, ma’am.”

“Oh, that’s all right. It’s true,” she admitted. “I’m as dead as can be.”

“You may be deceased, but there is a heartbeat in you still. I believe you are with child, ma’am. And I assure you that child is still alive.”

“But my baby drowned,” Ms. Parker cried. “How can it be?”

“I do not know how it transpired,” he said coldly, “but I am certain there is a living heart inside of you, and it pumps warm blood.” His fangs still showed between his pale lips. Despite his polished manners, he had the hunger of a starved animal. “I could smell it the first time I saw you.” He gazed at Ms. Parker like he was trying to charm her, but his bloodshot eyes and long yellow teeth only gave her the willies. She clutched her tummy, then her eyes suddenly widened in surprise.

“I think he’s right!” she said. “I can feel something moving around in there. I figured it was just indigestion from all the food I’ve been eating, but I have been sick the last few mornings.”

“The werewolves can smell it,” Nigel warned. “And they shall return. I imagine they are as famished for warm-blooded nourishment as I am.”

“Well, we’ll just have to kill them mutts before they come back.” Buddy plucked his gun from his holster. “We can start with whoever’s left in that there doghouse saloon.”

“I assure you that you are no match for a pack of wolves,” Nigel warned. “Go on into their den if you like. While I’m certain I will eventually be sent to my proper place in the cosmos—wherever that is—I am not so eager to venture there tonight. I’ll be taking a nightcap at a slightly more civilized establishment,” he said, kind of snooty-like.