CHAPTER 15
When Reginald arrived at the church, the children were out in a well-lit, fenced-in play yard. There were quite a few of them. It seemed strange to Reginald that there were so many kids in childcare on a Saturday night, but apparently the church was the only game in town for parents who worked unconventional hours.
Reginald looked at his cell phone to check the time. It was eight-thirty. He sat on a bench a hundred or so yards from the play yard and, using his enhanced vampire sense of sight, watched and waited as over the course of the next hour, parents arrived and claimed their children. Reginald started to doubt his plan. How had he expected to ambush a kid while under the church’s supervision or while holding their parents’ hands?
Ten o’clock arrived. Reginald crossed his fingers. The lights went out. Someone opened, peeked out, and then locked the door to the play yard. Everything became quiet.
Ten minutes passed. Nothing.
Reginald swore.
He’d known this was a stupid idea. What had he expected? To grab one through the fence? To have one walk over and offer him- or herself up after the shop was closed for the night? The whole idea was stupid, and now that he thought about it, he realized he’d wanted it to fail. He couldn’t bite a kid. He couldn’t terrify an innocent child. And now he’d wasted almost two hours and the kids were all gone, but it was for the best, he’d just have to head back to the bridge and find that hobo, or head into the city and find a hooker with a bad enough drug habit to allow him to do something particularly kinky, or maybe he could…
The front door of the church opened and a small figure, wrapped in a jacket against the nighttime chill, emerged and began walking away.
Reginald watched for a few seconds. He could see a brown pony tail running down the back of the jacket. A girl. Judging by the height, he guessed she had to be nine or ten. Why was a little girl leaving the church as the daycare closed? Why was she left alone to walk the streets at night?
But in the end, it didn’t matter. With his blood growling, hating himself for what he was about to do, Reginald got up and started to follow her.
The third time was bound to be the charm. Between the woman and the teenage kid, he’d learned exactly what not to do.
He approached the girl slowly, diving into pools of shadow behind her and keeping his footsteps light. There weren’t many streetlights. The girl was wearing earmuffs. He doubted she’d be able to hear him.
Loathing rose in his throat. He pushed it down. She’d be fine. She’d be scared, and she’d be hurt, but afterward he’d make her forget and she’d continue on her way. He’d even follow her, he decided, to make sure she got home safely after he’d fed. He’d be energized. He’d want to return the favor.
And besides, he needed it. He really, really needed it. If he didn’t feed soon, he’d die.
As if to confirm this thought, Reginald’s leg hitched and he almost fell. A cramp curled his left hand into a claw. He looked down at his arm, at the claw hand, as it slowly relaxed. The skin on his arm was scaly and gray.
The girl would get over it. He needed the blood more than she did.
He sprinted toward the girl and grabbed her by both shoulders. Then, without hesitation, she spun as if she’d been waiting for this exact move, rotated ninety degrees, and slid sideways out of his grip. Then she ran.
He ran after her, feeling deja vu.
“Hey! Wait!” he shouted. He asked himself what a successful pedophile would say at this point and then yelled, “Your dad sent me to give you a ride home!”
The girl was running, but he was keeping pace just a few yards behind her. She wasn’t screaming or panicking, but her running speed felt deceptively slow for someone her age. It was as if she was toying with him.
She turned her head and yelled back, “I’ve never met my dad!”
“I mean your mom!” Reginald huffed, already starting to lose his wind.
The girl didn’t turn this time. Breathing easily, she said, “My mom would never do that!”
“I… I have candy!”
“Do you think I’m an idiot?” the girl yelled.
Reginald, already out of shape and further weakened by his need for blood, felt his legs give out as his breath fell short. He collapsed onto the ground and then, giving up, laid motionlessly on the concrete for the third time in as many nights.
Several minutes later, his heaving gasps for breath began to abate and he felt his pulse slow down. “I’m the worst vampire ever,” he muttered aloud.
“You’re a vampire?”
The voice wasn’t far away. It sounded curious. Reginald lifted his face from the concrete and looked up. He felt a piece of gravel drop off of his forehead.
It was the girl. She was maybe twenty feet from him, standing under a streetlight. She was wearing a pink jacket with Hello Kitty on the front. The zipper bisected Hello Kitty, three whiskers on each side. A pair of fluffy white earmuffs were hanging loose around her neck. She must have removed them after their brief sprint.
“You’re a vampire?” the girl repeated.
Reginald sighed. “Yes.”
“But you’re fat.”
“Yes.”
“I’ve never heard of a fat vampire.”
Reginald rolled onto his back, then sat up. “There’s a reason.“
“Were you trying to eat me?” she asked. She didn’t sound afraid, just interested.
“I’m sorry. I’m very hungry.”
The girl shrugged. “Well, I’m not letting you do that.”
Reginald sighed, then looked up. “Why are you still here?”
“I know I can outrun you,” she said, her eyes avoiding his. He waited for her to say more, but apparently the subject was closed. Reginald rose to his feet and brushed the rest of the gravel and glass off of himself. The girl, true to her word, didn’t move.
“I’m very hungry. And I’m a vampire,” he said.
“I got that.”
“I could just grab you before you could stop me. So you might as well just come over here and we’ll make this easy.”
“I don’t think so,” said the girl. “You’re too fat.”
“I was making it sporting,” he said. But he could tell she wasn’t buying it.
Reminding himself that his very survival was at stake, he lunged forward, determined to somehow move faster than he ever had before. He could do it.
But, no he couldn’t. The girl turned and ran again, only this time she was laughing. Not in mockery, but like an elated child in the middle of some seriously great play.
They rounded a corner, then another, and then she sprinted up a set of steps to a small brownstone and fumbled out a set of keys. She was going to open the door, and that would give him time to catch up…
… but it didn’t, because Reginald was even worse at steps than he was at running. His belly bounced and struck his thighs as he climbed as if it were trying to drive him back down.
The girl was through the door before he reached the top of the stairs but he bounded after her, his hands out, and as she tried to close the door he threw his weight into it and it exploded inward. The girl stopped halfway down the inside hallway and looked back at him.
Feeling triumphant, he stepped across the threshold.
Then, he stepped across the threshold.
Then, he raised a foot and stepped across the threshold.
He looked down at his feet. Every time he placed a foot inside the house, an invisible force propelled it backward. With the repeated stepping and pushing out, it looked like he was doing the moonwalk.
And from inside, the girl said, “Cool.” Then she walked forward, closed the door in Reginald’s face, and locked it.