vampires, and genetically coded a vampire from birth.” The sickest thing about the belief was not that he believed it, but that he acted on it every chance he got.
Now his chances are excellent to stupendous. Now here he is in the year 1995, taking every opportunity to drink the blood of others, not content with medications to control his urges, ill content with the idea he could feed his cravings with ox blood, chicken blood, or any number of other substitutes. No, this one is bent on feeding in the manner of his supposed forebears! He should've gone the way of Lopaka Kowona, but the state of Illinois didn't see it that way.
Now, no doubt, bloodless bodies litter the trail he has blazed to Norman, Oklahoma.
Now, Jessica thinks with renewed awe, this obsessed lunatic, enraptured with me, is out there in the heartland, hunting me as if I'm some sort of filthy carrion for him; his throat and tongue and taste buds are watering for my blood a second time. It isn't going to happen.
“ Warm thy blood Hawaii,” he said in his sardonic message. It is clear to her that Hawaii in the poem means her, that he meant the word to mean Dr. Jessica Coran. “Warm thy blood Coran… Make ready for T-”
A demented, psychotic vampire is after me again.
She can think of nothing else.
She wonders if she can stand the long flight back to the mainland. Her ankles, which have not troubled her since the trek to Kahoolawe, begin to throb, and she wishes she'd kept her cane for something solid to hang onto, if for no other reason.
Matisak's insane eyes fill her mind. He's already gaining control. She feels a silent shiver run through her nervous system and she imagines the plane filled with ghosts that would crawl up from within her the moment darkness descended.
She remembers the madness of Lopaka Kowona. She recalls the insanity of Gerald Ray Sims, who'd killed himself in his cell, claiming demonic possession. She recalls Simon Archer, the notorious Claw. None of them frighten her.
But Matisak does.
She can think of nothing else…
