CHAPTER 25
We arrive at the conference room several minutes early. The dual distribution system that Rick built worked flawlessly, even if it did look like something that was most likely held together with duct tape.
The other researchers and archivists start coming in and finding their seats. Three seats are set on the stage behind the podium, presumably for me, Rick and Gwen. They hadn’t brought the “test subject” in yet, which makes my stomach feel like a sickening well of anticipation, getting deeper with each passing moment.
Gwen takes a seat on the stage as Rick sets our box of demonstration supplies behind the podium. I continue to watch the door as people arrive sporadically, everyone with the same look on their faces – defeat mixed with the bitter hope that we will fail. I sympathize. I felt the same way during Bree’s and Abe’s presentation. It doesn’t feel so good when you’re on the receiving end of such pointed resentment. A part of me wants to succeed even more, sort of as a payback for their disdain. Rick would probably tell me to embrace that as motivation and call it a good thing. I think I will take his imagined advice.
Rick walks to stand beside me. I continue to stare at the door. “Are you ready for this?” he asks.
“Sure. Why not? We know that it works, and it does indeed kill vampires. So no need to worry, right?” I look up at him, my brow crinkled as I wait for his reassurance.
He looks down at me as the corners of his lips twitch in a small smile. “True, but there’s always performance anxiety with things like this. Shall I speak and you administer the chemicals?”
I snort, “You just don’t want to get vampire on you.”
His smile widens. “I’ve actually had vampire on me before, under very different circumstances and it usually didn’t end in death.”
“O…kay. That sounds like a story for a much later time. You talk, I’ll pull the proverbial trigger.”
I turn back to watch the door. No sooner as I do so, two white-coat-wearing assistants pull a large cage into the room. As the full metal box comes into view, everything seems to slow down. The surface of my skin literally feels like it’s going numb. I blink my eyes multiple times, trying to focus while my brain registers all movement as scenes from a movie. I struggle to accept that what I am seeing is real and not just a part of my imagination, a remnant of a scary dream that has been safely tucked away into the dark recesses of my memory.
As the assistants position the cage catty corner to the podium, my gaze follows every move as my mind slowly comes to terms with what my eyes already know. In the far back corner of the cage sits what looks like a ten-year-old boy. After what seems like ages, my mouth drops open, and I look back up at Rick.
After a momentary glance at my face, Rick quickly exits the room leaving me to deal with my shock all alone. Feeling like my legs could fold in on me at any time, I shuffle to our chairs and slowly sit down. As the room continues to fill, the murmur of hushed whispers begins to crest, drowning us in a sea of uncertainty. As I look across the crowd of researchers and archivists, I notice that some seem to have expressions of sad acceptance on their faces - as if this is an evil they have known before.
I turn to look at the child vampire in the cage. His hands are twisting in a rhythmic configuration that makes me think he’s singing “The Itsy-Bitsy Spider.” Tears well up in my eyes to make up for the fact that my mind can no longer hold on to this horrible scene.
Rick urgently walks back into the room and takes the seat between Gwen and me. Mr. Caulfield enters with Allison not long after. Rick gently takes my arms while leaning toward me, “Emma, please look at me.”
I turn my head to him, a lost yet questioning look on my face. He leans in closer, his face nearly touching mine. “I went to speak with Mr. Caulfield about this particular vampire. Any time you encounter a child vampire, it’s traumatic. For humans and vampires alike.”
I subtly start to shake my head back and forth, like I didn’t want to hear any explanations for this…this nightmare.
“Emma, listen to me,” Rick pleads. “That vampire is not a child. He’s one hundred and three years old.” I just continue to look at him, my eyes fuzzy as if I’m seeing him through a haze.
“He’s a very old vampire. Not only that, he’s a pedophile. He used having a child’s body to lure human children away from their parents. He would then sexually abuse those children before killing them. He may look like a child, but he’s a monster. We can’t allow him to live.”
I slowly nodded with my eyes wide before I turn to gaze at the monster in his cage, still making childlike hand gestures. I turn my attention back to our audience who are still whispering and motioning toward the metal cell.
Rick places his other hand on my knee. “Emma, I’ll administer the chemicals. You don’t have to do it.”
I shake my head, still staring out into the audience. I try to concentrate on just breathing, but even that seems like too much right now. Rick rubs his hand in circles around my knee, his voice sounding pleading, “Emma?”
I slowly turn to him. “No, I’ll still do it. I’ll still pull the trigger.” I can feel that my eyes are still wide, almost as if I’m subconsciously willing more light into my vision to block out the darkness.
Rick’s face softens. “You don’t have to. I can do it.”
I feign a brave smile and shake my head again, fighting the tears that are struggling to escape. “No, Rick. I actually want to do it.” A shocked expression crosses his face. I turn back to look at the gaping crowd. I whisper, “Sometimes it’s easier to do something than it is to talk about it.”
Rick pauses and then slides his hands from my arm and knee, slowly leaning back in his chair. It seems like ages before Mr. Caulfield finally steps behind the podium to address the twittering audience. As I stare ahead of me, I can barely hear him as if he’s speaking from a great distance. I pick up a few sentences that let me know he’s explaining this particular vampire’s crimes and why he has been sentenced to death.
“Without further delay,” Mr. Caulfield states as he motions for Rick and I to begin our demonstration. Rick touches my shoulder as a sort of prod to get me to move from my stationary position. I stand up as he picks the box up, setting it on the empty chairs. He hands me the dual distribution system then looks deeply into my eyes. I can do nothing but slightly nod then cradle the system in my arms, like it’s a newborn ready to meet the world, but the mother is too frightened to let go.
Rick begins explaining about our vision for the project and how we were on much the same path as Drs. Vinh and Krishnamurthy. I’m only half-listening as I stand in front of the cage, regarding the bogus vampire child sitting in the corner. After a few moments, he stands up and walks slowly to the front of his cell, his eyes never leaving me for even a moment. No blinking, no anger, no fear…just a morbid resolve.
In the background I can hear Rick summing up the findings of our research and how we developed the dual distribution system to both incapacitate and annihilate any vampire that came into contact with the chemicals. When he finishes, it’s my cue to press firmly on the trigger mechanism that will begin the agonizing rain of death on a child monster whose very existence is an abomination to human life and a blight on vampire corporality.
I raise the container to waist level and aim the tubing at what still looks like a small child. I hesitate for enough time that the vampire begins to turn around in place, a soft murmur rising from the cage. I step forward, feeling as if unseen strings that are orchestrating an unscheduled and improper performance are pulling me forward. I strain to listen as the soft singing and twisting of words begin to make sense to my frazzled mind. He’s singing. He’s actually singing as a way of giving his last words. My whole world is condensed into this one moment.
“Ring around the Rosy
Pocket full of Posy
Ashes, ashes
We all fall down”
I squeeze the trigger. A spray of vitamin D water, saline, alcohol and formaldehyde drench the small frame of the vampire twisting and turning before me. Multiple things happen at once. His body seems to fold in on itself as his skin wrinkles and shrinks while the vitamin D begins eating through his leather like encasing. He stops moving. Stops singing. That’s when the screaming begins.
The vitamin D solution continues to erode his flesh before he collapses onto his knees, his body then explodes into a torrent of blood and gore. Then silence.
I didn’t even realize that my eyes were closed until I felt a hand grasp my elbow before relieving me of the distribution system’s weight. I open them to see gooey chunks sliding down the metal bars and a crimson mass on the floor where the tiny vampire once stood. I look down at myself to see that I had once again received the unrighteous baptism of vampire blood and flesh, speckling all over my arms and down the front of my clothes. I look up at Rick, the one who has been holding my arm as I wake from this walking nightmare. I whisper, “I want to go home.” Then there’s darkness.
I wake up in a room similar to the one I was in before when the nurse had cleaned me. Again, Rick is sitting by my side. Without preamble, I sit up a little too suddenly and put my fingers to my temples, rubbing slightly. Resting my hands in my lap, I glance at Rick. He’s watching me rather intently, almost like he is waiting to see what will happen next.
“You’re fine,” he begins. “The nurse already checked you and there are no issues. We can leave whenever you’re ready.”
My head bobs up and down almost uncontrollably. I slip into an almost spastic state. “What else did I miss?”
“Well,” he leans forward running his hands through his hair. “Mr. Caulfield thanked everyone and declared this the end of the project work. You and I will receive the fifty thousand dollar bonuses. He wants us to meet him here at the facility at 8:00 p.m. tomorrow.”
I continue to look at him, still nodding.
He briefly smiles, whispering, “We did it, Emma. You were great. One of the bravest things I’ve ever seen a human do.”
The nodding seems to involuntarily stop because I don’t remember trying to stop the neck motion. I simply state, “I want to go home.”
He nods then helps me from the makeshift hospital bed. We return to our suite to collect our things. I dig my keys out of my purse and hand them to him. Without saying a word, he takes the hint and the keys before leading me out to my car. For the first time that I can remember, I get into my own car on the passenger’s side without any help. We drive to my apartment in complete silence. We arrive to find that the paint is still on my front door. I guess the landlord was too busy to paint over it. Just another reminder of things that I would rather forget.
I go directly to the bedroom and get a change of clothes before heading to the bathroom to take a shower. I momentarily notice Rick sitting on the couch, running his hands back and forth on his legs. I wonder what he’s thinking, but don’t have the will to ask. Instead I slowly begin the all-too-familiar process of washing dead vampire from my hair and body. My showers were once my solace, my place to escape from the world’s troubles so I could think clearly and have amazing ideas. Now it’s the place where I scrub the world’s troubles from my reddened and chafed skin. I have a deepening sense my personal altar has been defaced…by my own doing, my own choices.
I turn the water off, towel dry and put fresh clothes on before joining Rick in the living room. He’s still sitting in the same position he was in before I went to shower. I stand behind the chair across from him. I softly announce, “I’m going to bed.”
Before I can turn he says, “You don’t want to talk about it?”
I look down at the floor. I can’t look at him right now. If I do, I’m afraid that I’ll burst into tears. “No, Rick. Like I said, sometimes it’s easier to do something than it is to talk about it. I just can’t. Not now. Maybe not ever.”
I walk to the bedroom door before Rick responds, “You’re still you. Regardless of what you did and how distasteful it is, you’re still Dr. Emma Burcham. The most kind-hearted person I know.”
I close my eyes as a few tears run down my face. Damn him and his empathy. No matter what he says, I know this has changed me on a deep, almost molecular level. In the darkness of my bedroom, I crawl under the covers and pray for the peace of dreamless sleep.