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Book 2 - The Boston Encounter
Page 2 (5/4/2009)

Bookmark: Set | What is this?

...continued from page 1. Nick and Margy had somehow found the official walking path through this part of the forest and were now leaning against trees, both breathing heavily. Nick had turned around every so often, but Amb... that thing that Amber had become had apparently not followed them - or at least not at Amber's usual speed. She was ... had been a very strong and healthy dog and under normal circumstances would have had no problem leisurely passing Nick who on the other hand had developed major side pains after only a few hundred yards. It looked as if they were safe for now. After they had recovered for a while, Margy who was still short on breath finally asked: "What ... was that? ... What happened ... to Amber?" "I ... I have no idea... It was as ... as if she had died ... while still ... being alive. It's ... like she aged ... 10 years in 10 seconds." His breathing finally calmed down a little as he continued. "She lost a tooth - a frigging tooth just dropped out of her mouth! And and and ... her fur ... the wind blew it right off, just like that!" Now that the main adrenaline rush was over and his brain started kicking in again, hysteria set in. "I mean, we're talking fur, not some dandelions seeds for Pete's sake! Oh, and I remember now: Her mouth was totally dry - she can fill a coffee cup with her drool!!! Whatever that was, that was no longer Amber...", he repeated. "What is going on here???" Margy swallowed, equally paralyzed by what had happened to Amber and by Nick's outburst. But finally, she asked: "Sh... shouldn't we tell someone? The police? Or maybe disease control? The forest service?" Her words pulled him back into reality out of the world of nightmares that he had been dangerously close to getting caught in. "Er... yea, I suppose..." And so they left for town. A few minutes later, a gray dog shaped something came out of the woods and followed them. Jonathan was in his car driving North. He had mixed feelings about this week-end, just like every year for the last 315 years. Humans were all about "letting go" and "moving on", but first of all their life span was nothing compared to the immortality of a vampire, and second they were lucky enough if they could remember what they had for dinner last night! Moving on - ha! And if it weren't for a very specific type of humans, he wouldn't have to do this year after year. This was one of these moments where he felt like saying to hell with it and starting a massacre. They had taken her from him, the only person he had ever loved - ever been able to love. He still remembered - of course - the day it happened. September 22, 1692 - one of the "highlights" of the Salem Witch Trials. Eight convicted "witches" were hanged that day, and his Mary had been the only one that was real. It was so stupid it was nearly funny - out of the dozens of people that were killed, only a handful had been actual witches, and all of them had done nothing but use their knowledge to help others! Most of the others women on trial has just been ... "unpopular" - maybe a neighbor didn't like the way she looked, maybe another one wanted a husband for herself and needed to get rid of the wife... Accusing someone of witchcraft was only too easy in those days when everyone was afraid. It had only been two months earlier that he had finally confessed to her that he was a vampire, and she had smiled her beautiful smile and simply said: "I know, my love." Man, she surely had been something special... But the worst part of it all was the blame. Jonathan had always felt that it had been at least partially his fault that she had been caught. There was no logic to that thought. He figured, he might have been spotted while feeding too close to her house, and somehow he must have lead them straight to her. The rational part of his brain kept telling him that it was not his fault, but it could not stop the guilt. His hands tightened around the steering wheel and made a crunching sound on the leather. It had not been fair, but that was just it - life was not fair! Especially to ones like him! And now they all had to stay hidden, pretend they didn't exist and let the ignorant cattle be ignorant! What a load of phooey! After a while, he arrived in Salem and kept going a little longer until he reached the parking lot of his hotel. He turned off the car and put his face into his hands. Not fair... Then he visibly pulled himself together, got out, took his luggage and walked inside. Their visit to the police had not been fruitful. They had blankly refused to even look into the matter, claiming that rabid dogs were not their responsibility. "Try animal control", they said, and that was that. So Nick and Margy went from authority to authority, each pushing the matter off to the next. Finally, they had found someone who seemed to believe them, and he promised them to send a few people out immediately. Exhausted, Nick and Margy went home to his small apartment to get some rest. As they approached the building, they suddenly stopped dead in their tracks. By the entrance to the building there was a dog, looking straight at them and not moving. It still looked like Amber, even though by now it had lost more fur and most of its tail. Margy whispered to Nick: "What do we do now?" Instead of an answer, Nick said: "What is she doing?" Then he slowly approached the dog. "Don't! Come back, Nick!", Margy shouted in horror, but Nick kept going until he was only a few feet from the dog. Then he noticed that it was moving after all - its tail (or what was left of it) was wagging. "Amber?", he asked quietly, and the dog reacted in a slow motion version of a playful downward movement of the head, just like Amber had done when she wanted her favorite ball thrown. "Nick, get back here!", Margy tried again. "Margy, this is still Amber - she recognizes me!", Nick replied. He crouched before the dog and carefully extended his hand towards its head as if he were about to pat it, but he was still a little suspicious and ready to pull back at any time. Slowly his hand came closer - two feet, one foot, six inches, then one inch - and the dog lifted its nose and bumped it lightly into Nick's hand. A sigh of relief exited his mouth. Then the dog tried to lick him - its tongue looked like a thin piece of meat that had been left out in the sun for a few weeks to rot. And it stunk. Nick withdrew his hand, and a hoarse sound of disappointment seemed to come from the dog as it tipped its head to one side and looked at him expectantly. Nick got up and said: "It's Amber alright - well, inside she is, but her body... I have no idea what this is. Maybe I watched too many bad movies as a kid, but she looks like ... like a zombie dog now." Margy shuddered but kept quiet. She felt very uncomfortable around this ... thing, but she also knew how much Nick had loved Amber. Nick got up and walked up to Margy. "We should bring her to the V - E - T", he spelled to not alert Amber. "Maybe my uncle can figure this out." Margy couldn't take it any longer. "You do what you want with that thing - I am going home!" And she walked around both of them in a wide circle and went inside. Nick sighed and sadly shook his head. "Alright, Amber, it's just the two of us now. Let's go." They walked to the car together. He had to slow down since Amber seemed to have trouble moving fast, and it worried him even more. At least she was able to jump into the passenger seat by herself - he was afraid to touch her. The smell of rotten meat still hung in his nose. He drove to the vet and parked, then thought better of it and drove around to the back of the building and took out his cell phone. He dialed, waited a few seconds for an answer and then said: "Hi, Sarah, this is Nick. Is my uncle, Dr. Marsten there? It is kinda urgent... Great, thanks." He waited while the assistant put him on hold, then his uncle's voice spoke next. "Nick? What is going on? Are you OK?" "I'm OK, Uncle Will, but Amber... Something really weird is going on with her, and I don't want to bring her through the front in case it is contagious or something. I'm out back - can you come out, please?" "Er... sure, just give me two minutes to finish up here, and I'll be right out." "Great, thanks, Will!", said Nick, and hung up. Amber with the typical instinct of any pet had fully realized where they were and was cowering on the floor. But something in her dead eyes seemed to indicate that she also understood that this was for her own good and a necessary evil. Nick opened a window for fresh air - the stench was starting to get to him. Finally, a middle-aged man in a white doctor's coat came out of the building and walked towards the car. Nick got out to meet him half-way. Dr. Marsten spoke first. "Hi, Nick, nice to see you. Is everything alright with you?" "Hi, Uncle Will, I'm fine, just worried about Amber. This ... I just don't know what to do. It's like Amber is dead - or has been dead for weeks, but she still moves. And she still recognizes me and wants to play and stuff, but her body is falling apart... I can't explain it. Can you have a look, please? I'm really worried about her, and I wanna help her." "Sure, Nick. Let me have a look." So they walked to the car. Dr. Marsten put on some examination gloves on the way. He opened the passenger door and crouched down beside Amber who was not moving. Then the smell finally hit him, and he averted his head. "Whoa - what is that smell?" Nick lowered his head. "That's Amber, I'm afraid..." Dr. Marsten just nodded, pulled out a face mask and put it on. It did not help much against the smell, but it was better than nothing. He carefully held out his hand towards Amber, just like Nick had done earlier. Amber slowly moved her head towards him, and her tail wagged in recognition. Dr. Marsten hesitated but then continued his motion and patted Amber's head, who reacted to the touch like any other good-natured dog would - except slower and without the usual energy. It felt like petting a stuffed animal that moved. Amber tried to lick him, but her tongue could not quite reach the hand. "Good God...", Dr. Marsten muttered. Then he slowly got back up and said: "We better bring her in so I can have a closer look at her." "We may have to carry the floor mat in with her - I'm afraid she might just rip into pieces if we touch her... Earlier, in the woods, she lost a tooth and a bunch of fur, just from a little breeze." "Really? Well, no use making guesses, let's do this." It took them quite a while to carefully manouver out of the car, through the locked back door and past the waiting customers without anyone noticing, but finally Amber was lying motionless on the examination table. Dr. Marsten performed a very thorough visual examination and tried to touch Amber as little and as carefully as possible. Then he shook his head. "I'm afraid I'm just as clueless as you... There is no disease I have ever heard of that could cause anything like this, and her vitals seem to indicate that she is dead, even though she is clearly moving in an intelligent manner. I'll do some blood tests, but I strongly recommend you leave her here and avoid contact with other people as much as possible until I know more - who knows if this is contagious or not." "OK, Uncle Will. Do you think she will be OK?" "I wish I had an answer for you, my boy... I'm afraid only time will tell. Now you better go home and get some rest, and I'll take care of everything." Nick hesitated, but then lowered his head and nodded. "Yes, Uncle. Thanks." "Don't mention it. I'll call you first thing in the morning." Nick glanced over at Amber one last time who turned her head to look back at him. It was strange - even though the eyes looked dead and dull like milky marbles, there was still some of Amber's usual intelligence behind them. And all of her love and devotion to him. He left the vet's building quickly so no one would see the tears in his face and drove home. It was the next evening. Jonathan wasted no time and immediately drove to Gallows Hill Park. Unbelievable what they had done with the place... In 1692, this had been the site for one of the largest hangings during the Salem Witch Trials. Today, it was a public park - with a frigging ball field of all things! When he had reached his destination, he got out of the car and walked up the small hill. His feet, used to taking this path every year, moved all by themselves as his mind was seeing images from 316 years ago. He remembered and saw every little detail from back then: There was a path trodden by hundreds of people that had built the gallows and later made their way up there to stupidly stare at the spectacle. The town guards had to force their way through the crowd just to get the women up there. The hangman was already waiting in is ridiculous hood. It was late in the evening, and there were hundreds of torches along the path, and the night was alive with shadows that in a sense felt more real than the actual people. It all felt unreal that night. He was hiding in a nearby tree and watching the scene with burning eyes. More than anything he wished that there was something he could do, and he even was willing to break the most important rules among vampires and make himself known. But he also knew that this would have been useless - if nothing else, they would have overwhelmed him, too, right then and there, vampire or not, and he was still young and unexperienced in the use of his powers. So all he could do was watch as they dragged the women up the hill. Most girls were screaming at the top of their lungs, but not his Mary. She walked quietly with her head lowered a bit and a knowing smile on her face. They stood them in a line and placed the ropes around their necks before some dumb looking priest guy without hair had asked the women one by one to recant their evil ways. But most of them were scared to the bone and unable to even articulate themselves. Then Mary turned her head slightly and looked straight at him and smiled. Then it was over, and her lifeless body slowly swung in the wind. "Hey, you!" The voice forcefully pulled him back into the present, and he saw his real surroundings again. He was in the middle of the ball field, and somewhere behind him someone had shouted something at him. He turned around and saw a dozen police men approaching with flash lights pointed at him. The light was meant to blind and confuse him, but he adapted within less than a second and carefully observed them. They were fairly young and didn't really look as if they wanted to be here at night, no matter what anniversary it was. Jonathan had made certain to leave no trace of his presence behind in the past, but he usually was long gone by midnight, and he wouldn't put it past the local kids to go and have their fun here at midnight - which was as good a guess as any about why these cops had been placed here. As they got on the field, he briefly scanned through their minds. Ah, rookies, literally on the graveyard shift, and no one too happy about it. Well, it was a great way for him to finally have his revenge - better 316 years late than never. City guards then, police men today - who cares? They die just the same! He was about to suggest to the closest that he was inside a huge oven and burning to death when suddenly something flashed before his eyes. It was gone as quickly as it had come, but he had still recognized it - it was Mary's face, still smiling at him. Confused, he gathered himself to deliver the mental blow. Then he heard her voice in his head. "Don't. Let it go. It is not their fault." He looked around - no one there, except for him and the approaching men. He closed his eyes and tried every sense at his disposal in a desperate attempt to locate her, maybe create a bridge to her in the after life. He could feel the cops, a few rodents, hundreds of insects and even every single blade of grass, but not her. Then he heard her giggle playfully inside her head, and it seemed to come from every direction and none at the same time. He screamed: "Where are you? Don't torture me!" Then the voice in his head said: "Let it go. You cannot find me. But we will see each other again soon, I promise. Now be a good boy and let them live. I am proud of what you are about to do, and I will wait for you." Then it was over, and he knew she was gone now, even though he had no real way of knowing. He wiped one solitary tear from his eye as the cops surrounded him with guns drawn. They had heard his scream and were not about to take any chances. Jonathan could feel their anxiety which made them even easier targets, but Mary had come back from the dead to ask him to be merciful, and he intended to do as she said. For her. So he just smiled, concentrated for one second - and vanished. Or at least so it appeared to the men. Jonathan had simply wiped his existence out of their brains, and the human mind was good at ignoring things even in plain sight. While they tried to figure out why they were standing around in a circle in the middle of the ball field, he walked past them and back to the car. He felt a lot better now but was also very confused. Why had she come back for him now, after 316 years? What was so significant about this year? And what did she mean by her words - something he was about to do? He was not planning on doing anything... Well, in any case, his week-end here was over. There was no use to going back to the hill tomorrow when they now stationed cops up there. And seeing and hearing her again after all this time gave him more peace inside than he had ever felt since then. He went back to his hotel, packed, paid his bill and drove back home to Boston. ...continued on page 3.

 

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