Dust Pile
by Stephen Tillman
part 1
Even on high speed, the windshield wipers couldn’t keep up with the blizzard conditions. Bobby could go no faster than fifteen miles per hour, sometimes not even that. He regretted not rescheduling his job interview.
According to the radio, the storm was the worst the state had seen in fifty years. The highway had been closed to all traffic, and motorists on it were urged to get off. Bobby would’ve loved to do that, but the next exit was twenty-five miles ahead. Although his compact car had all-wheel drive, its small frame was being buffeted heavily by the strong winds. The car’s exterior gauge indicated a temperature several degrees below zero. To make matters worse, the highway was covered with snow, the sun had set, and it was difficult to see the edge of the road. Bobby gripped the steering wheel tightly, fearing he’d skid off the road and into a ditch.
He sighed with relief when a sign appeared out of the gloom, reading “Rest Area: Food, Fuel, 2 miles.” It would be a place to stay until the storm ended and the highway was plowed.
Arriving at the rest area, Bobby managed to force the car through two-foot deep snow drifts and into the parking lot. A few other cars were parked there. Lights were on in the nearby building. He trudged through the snow to the main entrance, stopping under a sign which read “Department of Transportation Administrative Offices.” Surprisingly, the door was locked.
Bobby rattled the door and pounded on the steel frame, making noise that could be heard even over the howling wind. I hope I don’t have to break the glass, he thought.
Finally, a gaunt figure appeared in the dim interior. Bobby was thankful when the ominous figure resolved itself into a tall, thin man who unlocked the door. “Come in, come in,” the man said. “The more the merrier.”
While brushing the snow off his clothes and boots, Bobby asked, “Is there any food in this place?”
“Oh, yes, there is food,” the man assured him. “In fact, the supply keeps getting better and better. Come, let me show you to the accommodations.”
He grasped Bobby’s arm in an unexpectedly strong grip and led him into the interior of the building. They came to a door at the end of a long corridor. With a sudden, jarring lurch, the man shoved Bobby through the doorway and into a large room. Bewildered, Bobby stumbled into a wall against which sat three terrified-looking people, one man and two women.
What the hell? Bobby thought. He hadn’t been tossed around like that since he was a small child. The others stared past him without speaking. Bobby swiveled to follow their hollow gaze.
In the center of the room a man, obviously dead, lay in a pool of drying blood. Surrounding the dead man were three more gaunt figures, one male and two female. They turned to look at Bobby and smiled. The bottom parts of their faces were covered with blood. Two long canine teeth protruded from their upper jaws. Equal parts disgusted and terrified, Bobby plastered himself against the back wall and leaned as far away from the gruesome sight as possible.
The man who’d brought Bobby to the room chuckled, seemingly amused by his guest’s reaction. “I am Cecil,” he introduced himself. Then pointing to each of the three gaunt figures in turn, he added, “These are Siggy, Claudia, and Helene. Your colleagues against the wall are Holly, Stephanie, and Victor. The unfortunate gentleman you see on the floor was Malik. He is no longer with us, but he served a useful purpose, as will all of you. I find it ever so much more civilized if we know each other’s names. I am sure you agree. What is your name?”
“B-Bobby,” Bobby stammered automatically, his mind reeling. “What’s going on?”
“Why, we are vampires, of course,” Cecil said nonchalantly as he smiled and allowed his upper canine teeth to extend a good inch more in length. “It has been months since we last fed. This storm has provided us with a veritable feast.” Bobby opened his mouth to interject, but Cecil put up a hand. “Do not fight. Fighting will only make things worse for you. Poor Malik tried to fight us. He thought he could match our strength, but, as you can see, he was wrong.”
Even with the evidence right in front of him, Bobby was stunned. The thought of vampires feasting in a rest stop was absurd, but there was no time to ponder an alternative. Cecil’s glinting teeth were enough to make Bobby realize that if he wanted to survive, he’d better get hold of himself. He looked around, trying to assess the situation. Malik and Victor were both wearing uniforms indicating they were employees of the rest area facility. Victor sported a tool belt around his waist. The two women, on the other hand, were clearly just travelers who’d been trapped by the storm.
“Is Malik going to become a vampire?” Stephanie asked in a terrified voice. “Will the rest of us become vampires?”
“I am afraid not, my dear,” Cecil said with a look of mock sadness. “If that were how vampires were made, the world would be overrun with our kind. It is a long, involved process to create one of us, and even then, we are successful only about one-third of the time. The movies give you the wrong idea.”
“Would you even want to make a lot of vampires?” Bobby muttered.
“Perceptive of you,” Cecil noted with a grin. “Of course we would not. There would be too much competition for the available food supply. Besides, our greatest safety lies in keeping our population down. If nobody believes we exist, then nobody tries to kill us.”
“You can be killed?” Holly asked, reflexively.
Cecil smiled again. “Yes, we can. But not easily.”
“Enough chatter,” the vampire named Helene said. “I didn’t get much of Malik, and I’m hungry.”
Before anyone could react, Helene grabbed Stephanie and dragged her struggling and screaming body to the center of the room. Helene ripped Stephanie’s turtleneck away from her upper torso and bit her neck. Bobby started to get up, but Cecil easily pushed him down, saying, “Now, now, Bobby. Remember what I said about fighting us.”
Siggy went over to Helene and pulled Stephanie, now semi-conscious, away from her. “Don’t be a pig, Helene,” he chastised. “You know it tastes better if they’re alive. Give the rest of us a chance.”
Siggy bent over Stephanie, bit her neck, and let his fingers spread wide with pleasure. Then suddenly he dropped her. Bobby and the other travelers watched in fascination as Siggy’s face turned red, hives broke out on his skin, his throat and lips ballooned, his tongue protruded from his mouth and swelled, and he became disoriented. Siggy staggered over to lean against the opposite wall, shuddered violently, and exploded into dust.
While the other three vampires stepped toward the dust pile that had been Siggy, Bobby darted over and scooped up Stephanie. “C’mon!” he hollered at the others as he headed for the door. Victor and Holly were close behind him. The vampires were befuddled at first, but soon noticed that their food was running away.
With Stephanie still in his arms, Bobby raced out the door with Victor on his tail. He looked back and saw Holly standing still just outside the doorway. “Holly, move your ass!” he screamed.
Instead, Holly held her right arm straight out from her body so that it ran parallel to the floor, her fingers pointing toward the ceiling. She uttered a few words too low for the others to hear.
Claudia was the first of the vampires to reach the doorway. When she tried to pursue the travelers, she careened backwards as if she’d run into an invisible wall. The remaining vampires were more cautious, but were unable to get past the doorway.
Victor stared dumbstruck.
“What are you, a witch?” Bobby asked Holly as she joined the others.
“I don’t ride around on broomsticks or anything like that, but I can do a few things,” Holly admitted to her companions’ surprise. “I put a barrier at the doorway. It’ll last for only about thirty minutes, and they might find some other way out of that room. Let’s see if we can get out of this place.”
“That won’t do much good,” Bobby said. “Instead of being killed by vampires, we’ll die of exposure. Let’s find somewhere we can hide and plan. This is a large facility. Maybe we can stay away from them until daylight.”
They found some stairs, raced up two flights and down a corridor, located a room, entered, and locked the door. Inside there was a sink and a couch, along with a wooden desk and some wooden chairs. Bobby put Stephanie gently down on the couch.
Holly approached Stephanie’s limp body and said, “I’m a doctor. Let me take a look.”
“Good, bring her around,” Victor insisted. “She somehow managed to turn that vampire to dust. She could be the weapon we need.”
Stephanie began to slowly come out of her stupor. After checking her vitals, Holly gave her diagnosis. “She’s a little weak from loss of blood, but she should be okay, unless the vampires get her again. Somebody bring her some water. We need to replenish her fluid levels. But she’s not a secret weapon, Victor.”
“Why do you say that?” Victor asked.
“What’s your blood type?” Holly asked Stephanie.
“AB negative,” Stephanie said in a weak voice.
“Nothing happened to Helene when she drank Stephanie’s blood,” Holly mused. She laughed, ruefully. “When Siggy drank, he exhibited all the symptoms of a severe allergic reaction and then went into anaphylactic shock. I’ve seen that before, though my patients didn’t turn to dust. I think we happened to find the unusual vampire who’s allergic to AB negative blood, the rarest kind. Less than one percent of the population has it. I bet Siggy had never run into it before. His undiscovered allergy allowed us to get away temporarily, but we may just be delaying the inevitable.
“Our best chance to survive is probably to hide until the storm ends and more people arrive.” She hesitated, stared at Bobby, and added, “Though we might have a better chance than that.”
“Because you’re a witch?” Victor asked. “I thought you said you don’t have much power.”
“I don’t. But I bet Bobby does.”
“They threw him around just as easily as they did the rest of us. Even a big guy like me was no match for them.”
“That’s because they’re really strong. Bobby isn’t very big, but he carried Stephanie up two flights of stairs and down a long corridor running full-out. You and I had trouble keeping up. Look. He’s not even breathing hard. No human that I know of could do that, not even a professional athlete. C’mon, Bobby. If we’re going to have any chance, we need to know our assets. I’m a witch. What are you?”
Bobby knew she was right. “I’ll tell you, but keep in mind that revealing what you know, assuming we get out of this, will get you labeled as a crackpot at best, and could possibly get you committed. Keep this confidential both for your protection and for mine. You’ve all likely seen movies about werewolves. Well, I’m a were-leopard.”
“Just great,” Victor said, throwing up his arms in disgust. “You’re useless right now, and even if the moon were full so you could turn into a leopard, then you would kill us instead of the vampires.”
“I don’t think it’s that bad,” Holly said with a knowing look.
“It isn’t,” Bobby agreed. “I don’t need a full moon to change and, as a leopard, I know what I’m doing. I can direct myself not to attack you.”
“Then do that!” Victor exclaimed.
“It’s not that simple. Holly noticed how strong I am. In leopard form I’m considerably stronger, but a leopard can’t reason the way a human can. While I’m still human, I can give myself directions which the leopard will follow, but if the unexpected occurs, he’ll get confused.
“Also, the leopard can’t manipulate a stake to drive into one of their hearts. Assuming that’s what’ll kill them. He can probably fight off one of them, maybe even two, but not all. They’re at least as strong as he is. He can hurt them with his teeth and claws, but not kill them. Eventually, even a leopard will get tired.”
“We’re screwed,” Stephanie said weakly from the couch.
“Maybe not,” Holly said thoughtfully. “I have a plan. It’s a long shot, but what do we have to lose? While I explain, see if you can make some stakes out of that desk and those chairs. We’re fortunate Victor’s wearing a tool belt.”
* * *
Copyright © 2023 by Stephen Tillman
