Chapter Sixty-Seven
The real vampires had arrived and they believed they were invincible. William and Michael knew that the exotic city of New Orleans belonged to them from the instant they crossed the bridge. They were a couple of young princes with their long blond ponytails, black shirts and trousers, shining leather boots. Their mission ended here if all went well - and it would. William drove the Red Cross van through the French Quarter they were on the lookout for prey. The van rode slowly back and forth on Burgundy, Dauphine, Bourbon, Royal, Chartres, all of the more famous streets. The sounds of Readysexgo blared from the tape deck.'Radio Tokyo7, then'Supernatural Blonde'. The brothers finally got out and strolled along Riverwalk. They turned into the Riverwalk Marketplace, and it made William feel physically ill: Banana Republic, Eddie Bauer, the Limited, Sharper Image, the Gap - mediocrity, tripe, utter stupidity everywhere he looked.'What do you want to do?'William turned to Michael.'Look at all this commercial crap in the middle of this beautiful city.' 'Let's take somebody out here in their putrid shopping mall. Maybe we should feed in a changing room at Banana Republic. I love that idea.' 'No!'William said. He grabbed hold of Michael's arm.'We've been working too hard for this. I think we need a distraction.' They couldn't take any more prey. Not now. Not so close to Daniel and Charles's domain. So William drove out of New Orleans on the Bonnet Carre Spillway. He continued on Interstate 10 into the real
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Louisiana. A distraction was definitely needed. William found what he wanted about an hour outside New Orleans. The rock climb wasn't much, but at least the face was steep. You had to concentrate; if you didn't, you fell, and you were dead. The brothers chose to free solo, the most extreme example of the sport. Also the most dangerous by far. In free solo, the climbers used no ropes, or any kind of backup protection. 'We are a couple of hardmen!'Michael laughed and shouted once they were halfway up the two-hundred-foot climb. Hardmen were the toughest climbers of all. They were the best, and it fit the brothers' self-image. 'Yes we are!' William shouted back to his brother. 'There are old climbers, and there are bold climbers.' 'But there are no old, bold climbers'.' Michael roared with laughter. The climb turned out to be more challenging than it had looked. It required lots of different kinds of skill. They had to do vertical crack climbing, then suddenly they were face climbing, pressing tight against the rock, using very small hand holds. 'We're in the climbing groove now!'Michael screamed at the top of his lungs. He had forgotten about hunting for prey, forgotten his hunger. There was nothing but the climb. Nothing but staying alive, survival of the fittest. Suddenly, they had to commit - they were at a point in the climb where, once they made the next couple of moves, they couldn't go back the way they had come. There was nowhere to go but straight up. Or to quit right now. 'What do you think, little brother? You make a plan for us. You decide. What does your instinct tell you?' Michael laughed so hard he had to grip the rock face with both hands. He looked down - and what he saw was certain death if he fell.'Don't even think about quitting. We won't fall, brother. Not ever. We're never going to die!' They climbed to the top and from there they could see New Orleans. It was their city now. 'We're immortal! We'll never die!' the brothers shouted into the wind.
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