Blood Hunt

aches of the past several days draining away. Garreth stretched out full length and buried his face in the grass. The earth felt delicious, so cool, so clean and sweet-smelling. Funny. He had never liked sleeping on the ground as a kid on scouting camp-outs, but now it felt better than any bed, certainly better than that torture rack at the hospital. What a joy it would be to just to continue lying here, to pull the earth over him and -

He sat bolt upright, shaking, horror and gut-wrenching fear flooding back. What the hell are you thinking, man! He really was going wacko. He had better take himself back to the hospital before his delusions had him jumping some unsuspecting jogger. But Garreth could not make himself move, even though his presence defiled the hill. The earth drew him. It even soothed the thirst growing more ravenous by the hour.

The sun, he decided. He would wait for the sun. If nothing happened when it rose, there was nothing wrong with him except that he had gone bananas and needed a room at the funny farm. And if — well, it would be a clean end with no one having to know what a foul, damned thing he had become.

Garreth crossed his legs, folded his hands in his lap, and waited. Eventually the sky lightened. His heart pounded. Feeling it, he scolded himself. Don’t be a fool. Nothing’s going to happen. But his heart continued to slam against the wall of his chest while the sky grew brighter. Pulses throbbed in his aching, burning throat, in his arms, legs, temples.

The upper rim of the sun appeared over the horizon. Garreth braced himself. A beam of light lanced westward to the great white cross above him. He fought an urge to bury his face in his hands and made himself lift his chin to meet the sun.

It brought no agony, no searing dissolution. The light burned through his eyes, however, turning the throb in his temples to a pounding headache. A great weight pressed down on him, draining his strength, dragging at his limbs. The earth beckoned to him, called him to the sweet coolness that would shut out this miserable, blinding, exhausting sun -

“No!” He lurched to his feet. “Damn you!” he shouted at the sun. “Kill me! You’re supposed to kill me. Please! I won’t be…this…what Lane is!” He screamed into the gold and pink sky of dawn. “No! No! NO!”

Screamed in fury and despair, over and over and over.

Garreth did not recall running down Mount Davidson or fishing trooper glasses from the glove compartment of the car and gunning the ZX out of the parking lot, but he found himself driving again, with mirror lenses hiding the eyes of his image in the rearview mirror. Driving where, though? He slowed down, groping for orientation. And slowed still more as a patrol car passed him going the other direction. He carried no driver’s license; that sat in the Property Room along with the rest of his billfold contents, state’s exhibits.

A street sign finally told him where he was. The Sunset district. His reflexes were taking him to Harry and Lien’s place…to Lien, who had kept him sane the last time his life crashed down around him.

Garreth parked the car around the corner at the end of the block Harry did not pass on the way to work and climbed over the fences separating the yards behind the neighborhood houses until he reached the Takananda’s. There he sat down behind the big oak tree shading the flag-stoned patio and settled against the trunk to wait.

From inside the house came the sounds of morning: a shrill electronic beeping of the alarm clock, running water, the murmur of voices. The telephone rang. Harry’s voice rose. Moments later the front door slammed and the motor of the car roared to life. Tires squealed around the corner at the far end of the block.

Garreth pushed to his feet and came around the tree onto the patio.

Lien saw him from the kitchen. Her almond eyes went wide.

“Garreth!” She ran out of the house to him. “What on earth are you doing?”

He managed a wry smile. “Visiting.”

Her eyes flashed. “Don’t lie to me, Garreth Doyle Mikaelian! Harry just had a call about you. Come in this minute and sit down! You look ready to fall on your face.”

He followed her gladly and dropped into the closest chair.

She sat on the hassock in front of him, frowning in exasperation and concern. Her nearness brought a warm wash of bath-talcum scent overlying that of blood. “Why did you run away from the hospital?”

He could give a half-truthful answer. “I couldn’t eat their food or sleep in their bed. I wanted out.”

She stared. “Have you lost — “ She broke off to resume in a patient voice, “Garreth, you almost died. You’re in no condition to be going anywhere. You need medical care. Come on; I’ll drive you back.”

She started to rise.

Garreth reached out to catch her wrist. “No! I can’t go back. I–I’m — ” But the words caught in his throat. He could not tell her what a monster he had become. Hell…he could not even say the words to himself. Thank god for the glasses so she could not see the animal glow of his eyes. “Lien, I have to sleep and I haven’t been able to since I went into that place. Let me stay here today, and promise you won’t tell anyone where I am, not even Harry. Please!”

She stared from his face to her wrist and said softly, “Garreth, you’re hurting me.”

He let go as though stung. Shit. “Damn! I’m sorry.”

Lien rubbed the marks left on her wrist by his fingers. “I never knew you were so strong.”

He swore at himself. How could he be so thoughtless? He had seen some of his strength when wrestling the orderly. “I didn’t realize — I never meant — I’m sorry,” he said miserably.

“Garreth!”

He looked at her.

She patted his arm. “You can stay on one condition. That you do nothing but rest. Do you promise?”

He nodded.

She smiled. “Fortunately it’s Saturday and I don’t have to work, so you won’t be alone. Harry went off without breakfast. Would you like his waffles?”

His throat burned with hunger but the thought of waffles brought a spasm of nausea. He grimaced. “I’m not hungry.”

Lien frowned at him “Garreth, you — ” She sighed. “All right. Now get yourself into bed in the guest room.”

A bed. He would never be able to sleep on a bed. “I’d rather sleep out on the patio.”

“Patio!” she said in horror. “It’s chilly out there.”

“Please. I can’t breathe in here.”

His desperation reached her. While her forehead furrowed, she made no further protests…even when he passed the lounge chair to lie down on the grass well in the shade of the tree. His last conscious sensation was of Lien covering him with something.

4

He slept, but not in oblivion. Garreth dreamed…frantic, terrifying dreams…of the alley and Lane tearing out his throat, of being Gerald Mossman, split open and shelled out on an autopsy table, of chasing joggers through Golden Gale Park and tearing out their throats to gulp down the salty fire of their blood.

He fled from the murders, running back through the park to the Conservatory. Inside, though, it had become a library. Titles of the books glared from the spines in pulsating red lettering: Dracula, The Rise and Fall of the Roman Vampire, Foundation and Vampire, The Vampire Strikes Back.

Spinning away from the stacks in revulsion, he found himself among a group of children sketching bats and wolves under Lien’s direction. He started to back away but Lien caught his arm and, pushing him down in a chair, cradled his head against her chest.

“Hush, Garreth, hush.” She rocked slightly, stroking his hair as he remembered her doing once after Marti died. “The superior man doesn’t panic. Let’s try studying this thing calmly. Look.” She released him and began two lists on her sketch pad. “It’s obvious that everything legends say about vampires isn’t true. Yes, you rest best on earth, you smell and crave blood, and something is happening to your teeth. On the other hand, while daylight is miserably uncomfortable it doesn’t kill you. There’s no nonsense with mirrors, either. The subject needs more research, but perhaps most of the legend is false. Maybe you don’t have to stop being the person you are, the person Harry and I love. Once your basic needs of rest and food are met, why can’t you go on living your life as you