The short ride to the next stop filled Stephen with anxiety. He would finally get to meet the caller from one of the higher members of an O blood type who had first told him about the serum and its implications. He was told it would be the next step in his advancement in the fellowship of the fangs! How he dreamt of the impending mutation of the human race! Everyone would be equal with O blood type, so those damned A and B vampires wouldn’t be the top of the food chain! And once he got up the ladder in the fellowship, he was promised to be turned into one too! He didn’t care whether or not his blood would become O positive or O negative. He wanted to be as strong as the AB’s once the serum was administered worldwide.
Sweat dripped from his brows and fell onto his shirt. Stephen practically jumped up, put his jacket on, and hoisted the tote bag over his shoulder as the bus pulled over. Checking to make sure he wasn’t followed, Stephen walked with purpose to the house a block away. He was happy the area chosen for the meet was on neutral ground. Everyone in the fellowship was given access to all the neutral sites. That way, Stephen knew where he would be safe from the arrogant A and B blood tribes. And if any O type of vampire would try to attack him, all Stephen had to do was show them the fellowship tattoo, and he would be left alone.
Stephen strolled down the road as the afternoon sun descended upon the landscape. Flowers of all colors and sizes bloomed, gardens abounded with fresh herbs and vegetation. He could hear lawnmowers nearby slice down the tall grass blades that permeated the neighborhood.
He took out a small piece of paper from his pants pocket and noted the address on the paper matched the mailbox number. He nodded to himself, straightened his large bulging tote bag, and walked up the cracked driveway. Stephen noticed the house was an older model that had been somewhat unkempt. The lawn had patches of yellow flowers that the bees were taking advantage of with relish. A sprinkler was feeding the hungry grass, and a large oak tree on the other side of the property was providing shade to a couple of rabbits and their offspring.
Perhaps the ordinary house was a way of the fellowship blending in like himself. At the same time, they were doing invaluable work to shed the world of the elitist vampires that comprised a fraction of the O blood type tribe’s population.
But, he thought as a smile formed on his lips, it won’t be that way for much longer!
Stephen knocked two times, waited five seconds, and then knocked four more times to indicate he was a member.
The door creaked open, and the sound made Stephen think the front door wasn’t used much. A beautiful African-American woman slid the door open. She was on the tall side and wearing a crisp Orange jacket that barely passed her knees. Her white shorts barely went lower than the coat as she stood with her hands folded in front of her. Stephen waited for the woman to introduce herself. She did not.
Stephen extended his hand. “Hi, I’m Stephen Ward. I have an appointment to see ‘Max.’”
The woman did not return the gesture but motioned for Stephen to follow her. When they got to the first room, the woman stopped and turned to him.
“I need to frisk you,” she said with a commanding voice.
Stephen took off his tote bag and set it down. He lifted his arms.
The woman took notice of Stephen’s watch and removed it.
“No watches, jewelry, or phones.”
“It’s just a watch,” Stephen stated with a hint of apprehension. Surely most, if not all, of the higher echelon of O type blood vampires knew of the watch’s purpose.
The woman put the watch in her pocket.
“Hey! You can’t do that! That watch belongs to me! Your kind gave it to me!”
“And you will get it back once the meeting is concluded,” the woman said in a manner where there was no room for discussion.
Stephen allowed himself to be thoroughly frisked. “Satisfied?”
The woman ignored him. They walked straight through a sparsely decorated room. Stephen noticed there wasn’t a sofa, no chairs, just a beige carpet, and some abstract art that celebrated a different era. They walked in silence as they went down a long hallway and came to a room with the door closed.
The woman straightened herself erect, pulled on her jacket, and did the same knock as Stephen did at the front door. She looked at Stephen and then walked away.
Stephen looked at the receding figure. “Nice to meet you, too,” he murmured with sarcasm.
“Come!” a voice boomed from inside.
Stephen repositioned the tote bag across his shoulder and walked in.
A well-built man sat at a mahogany desk that spoke of money. Ironic since the neighborhood suggested otherwise, thought Stephen.
The man stood up and outstretched a hand. Stephen took it. “Mister Ward, glad we finally meet! I am Max.”
Stephen looked at the man. “You don’t seem familiar to me, Max. Are you a member of the Fellowship of the Fangs?” He said as a test.
Max smiled. “No. I work for one of the higher echelons of the O positive group that wants to remain anonymous.”
Stephen took a seat in front of the desk. “Okay, I looked you up and found you legit. But before we begin, Max, I feel it wise to tell you that my grandfather was the founding member.”
“Yes, I believe I knew that. Your father was at a lecture at Stanford University in 1912, wasn’t he?”
“Yes, he was
