I nodded my head in understanding,“Well, how can I get my family back?” I asked as I lodged the gunagainst the door.
The man literally wasn’t bornyesterday, “You’re going to have to let me in to find that out,Thomas Hartwell. What other choice do you have?”
I chose to reflect briefly on thesordid events of my life and then looked over at the loaded gun. Mydecision was to open the door, “Okay, you can come in,” whichunlocked my last seal of protection in the mortal world.
I kept a tight grip on the gun asthe distinguished-looking gentleman walked in slowly, hardlybefitted the demeanor or aggressive tendencies of a savage beast.The man’s beige wool, three-piece suit, well-groomed mustache, andclassic bowler hat that he removed and held in his hand, lessenedmy anxiety as it had for the hundreds of his unsuspecting victims.He then conveyed the mental message, “You can put the gun away. Weare all friends here.”
So I put the gun in the top drawerof my rolling desk and asked, “Can I get you anything, friend? I’mgoing to put up some tea.”
The man reached down into his vestpocket and pulled out a gold pocket watch, which he had picked upalong the way. He opened the engraved latch and realized that hiswindow of opportunity was closing fast. The hunters were trackinghis scent and would be closing in within minutes.
I walked back into the room andwas instructed to sit next to the man on the couch.
“My name is Alexander Lowery and Iam here to offer you eternal life.” Lowery thought for a moment andthen decided to slightly alter his claim, “In any event, you canlast pretty long if you eat people on a high fiber diet and do yourbest to avoid those persistent hunters.”
I took in the information butwasn’t really caring about my well-being or life at that point,“What about my wife and son?”
Lowery’s hair was slicked back andfinely combed as he stroked his mustache before speaking in adramatic tone, “Your boy shall rise again on the moon of the newcentury. Oh, and your wife should be along in another eight to 10moons after that.”
I was confused be the reference,“How long is a moon?”
Lowery replied, “A moon is about ayear in most circles, give or take a few months. In Germany…” hestarted before screams and heavy bangs could be heard in the streetbelow.
That’s when I first met AbrahamEllison, Lowery’s protector, a muscular fellow wearing afinely-tailored suit who burst into the room, "My food fellow, youmight want to speed things up a bit!”
Lowery’s eyes transformed frombrown to orange and razor-sharp fangs sprouted from the upper andlower portions of his mouth, as he ferociously bit into the rightside of my neck. Conflicting emotions flooded my clouded brain, asI was horrified and totally intrigued at the same time. He musthave put some sort of mind-whammy on me, because I thought my brainwas telling my being to run but I sat motionless.
The searing pain I initially feltwas replaced by the euphoria of seeing my wife and son smiling andwaving at me near a large back of windows to my left. As I startedfading out, their images shifted from a form that I knew to anotherversion of dress that I was not familiar with.
Lowery quickly drained my bloodand then opened the vein on his right wrist to keep me from dying,“No, not just yet. You have some work to do before you seethem.”
I instinctively drank the bloodfrom Lowery’s wrist as if I was a baby and he was holding a bottle.Only this ‘formula’ was my bridge from mortality to immortality,from man to blood-thirsty monster.
“Two other things,” Lowery said.“I dripped a little blood – clumsy me – on the couch, so you mightwant to treat that when you come to. And, the second thing is, andthis one’s real important, so get your hearing shoes on – after youdie 100 times you become mortal again.”
There was a huge thump on thefront door of the building and Lowery hastened to finish the job,as his ally rushed toward his side.
“Good luck, Hartwell,” he said, ashe removed his arm from near my mouth and then snapped my neck, allin one motion.
“We have to go,” the Ellison saidto Lowery, as I dropped lifeless to the floor. Lowery and hisEllison knew the front of the building would be blocked so theyslipped out of an open window and into the sky, narrowly escaping agroup of aggressive hunters that burst into the room.
The SanFrancisco plague had taken its toll on the vampire population. Bythe time Lowery had me for dinner, the fanged ranks had been trimmed fromthousands to mere hundreds. My turning was more a part of aninformal drive to recruit new blood, than a merciful act performedby a compassionate beast.
The Black Death,while lethal to mortals, also had a significant impact on thevampire community. Death was an outcome seen in 44 percent of thevampires, but there were a few cases where vampires were killed forthe 100th time and then contracted the disease, opening theirintricate immune systems to the unstoppable force. There were alsomany instances when vampires lost a strength, or two, such aschain-saw-sharp teeth or the ability to fly. It was definitely theworst of times in the City by theBay.
REBORN
The hunters that were trackingLowery burst into my house in San Francisco and found me dead in apool of my own blood on the floor between the couch and the coffeetable in the living room, or parlor as they called it at the turnof the century.
The male hunter put his fingers onmy broken and bloodied neck and said, “This one’s as dead as acricket run over by a carriage.”
The female hunter asked, “Do youthink he turned him?”
He moved his lantern closeto my mouth and took a look inside, while also getting a goodsniff.
“His smell is everywhere, butthere is no sign of blood,” the mountain- of-a-man said as he letmy head fall to the floor. “I say he didn’t have time. Let’s getgoing before we get too far behind.
So the hunters left the house andI
