CLICK TO EXPAND: New Orleans

Originally posted in my April, 2021 newsletter:

The first part of this scene is told from Wilson’s (from Weekend at Bigfoot’s) 3rd-person POV, and the second part of this scene is told from Neil’s (from The Recruit & The Choice) 3rd-person POV. Written using the words pillow – new socks – candle – keys – book – obelisk – honesty – lightening – mountains – fountain – glass cat – pine needles – vampire – refrigerator – mud

Wilson

Oliver turned his gaze from the obelisk in New Orleans’ Chalmette National Historical Park and cocked his head at Wilson. “You seem tense.”

Wilson sighed and shook his head. “Sorry. I just…” But what could he say that wouldn’t sound paranoid? “It’s nothing.”

One perfectly groomed eyebrow quirked skyward. Oliver said only one word. “Oh?” But the glint in his eye added, “Honesty is the best policy.” Which was something they’d had a whole discussion about before moving in together.

“Well, you know…” Wilson shuffled his feet then glanced around to make sure nobody was within hearing distance. “It’s just that I’ll never be able to approach my articles with the same I-know-this-is-utter-bullshit-but-I’ll-write-an-interesting-and-respectful-story attitude I had before meeting you and your…uh…people in Tallbear.”

For all he knew, he might’ve spoken to Yeti shifters, too, when the tabloid he wrote for, Sensational News (Never Fake, We Swear!), sent him to the Himalayas last year to research an article. This week the features editor, Jerry, had sent him here to New Orleans to come up with a story on vampires. His boyfriend/partner, Oliver, freelanced so he’d tagged along so they could do touristy things during Wilson’s downtime.

“Ah.” Oliver smirked, but it didn’t mask his involuntary shiver. “Yeah, before you asked about it last year, I hadn’t thought too much about the possibility since we’d never heard of other kinds of shifters, let alone different paranormal creatures, but good point. Bigfoots exist, so why not vampires?”

“On the plus side, if they do exist—and that’s a big if—they’re not like vamps in books and movies. It’s not as if there are a lot of unexplained blood-drained bodies showing up, so I don’t think they pose a danger to humans. If anything, much of the lore is crap, and they’re secretive but have otherwise assimilated into our society.”

“And yet you’re still tense.” Oliver flipped back a few strands of his well-glittered hair that’d fallen across his eyes. “Did you find something?”

“Not really.” Wilson shugged. “I just got to thinking about which bits of lore would have to be true—like consuming blood—since that pretty much defines what vampires are. Probably also the immortality thing, otherwise if vampirism is some affliction people could randomly catch like a virus, and there weren’t organized immortals taking people in when they caught it, or were deliberately turned, or whatever, then vampires would be commonly known.”

“Makes sense.”

“So I figured, if—IF—they exist, they’re organized. At least these days. And other bits of random lore may or may not have come about from possible misinterpretations of behavior in olden times.”

“Still makes sense.” Oliver nodded. “So what’s making you so antsy like you’re ready to jump out of your soggy new socks?”

Wilson grinned. Oliver was referencing an incident from their earlier visit to the Mardi Gras Fountain. Long story short, they’d fallen victim to an impromptu water fight between some kids, Wilson’s new pride-themed socks had gotten soaked, then after he’d wrung them out, he’d accidentally stepped in some loose dirt before putting his shoes back on.

“More like muddy new socks.” Wilson winked. “But no, I didn’t actually find anything. I also figured they probably weren’t holding a bunch of people captive, feeding them and feeding off them. Over time, they’d surely be discovered. If they exist, they’re probably hiding in plain sight like you Bigfoots.”

“Nice. I could get behind the existence of benevolent vamps.”

“So yesterday, I visited blood banks to interview people about their processes. Because they’d still need blood, right, or they wouldn’t be vampires?”

“Right. But you didn’t find anything suspicious?”

“No. But, I didn’t really expect to. Even if it’s true that vampires exist and they’ve infiltrated blood banks, nothing would be obviously out of whack.”

“So?”

“So I’ve had a weird feeling like I’m being watched since then.”

“Ah.”

“I know. I’m being stupid and paranoid for no good reason because I’m not even going to pursue the potential reality of vampires for my article because outing any paranormal creatures pretty much opens up the potential for outing them all, and I wouldn’t do that to you. Besides, my interviews with the people claiming to have been bitten will make a more interesting article.”

A corner of Oliver’s mouth twitched up as if maybe he’d picked up on how Wilson had pointedly made that little speech for the benefit of any potentially listening vampires. But he didn’t address that, and instead asked, “So there are people who’ve been bitten?”

“Not by real vampires. That was easily debunked. Jerry probably won’t let me point that out in the article, though, since people who’ve been embarrassed in our stories are more likely to sue. They wouldn’t win, but it would still cost money.”

Oliver snickered. “It’s not as if sensible people reads those articles and walk away believing them.”

“Exactly.” Wilson patted his pocket, jingling the rental car keys, and suggestively flashed his eyebrows. “How about we go back to the hotel, light one of those scented candles they have in the room, and see how much of your hair glitter we can get embedded in the pillow cases?”

* * * * *

Neil

The eastern sky was lightening as the early morning sun rose, and a glass cat figurine on the window ledge cast an eerie shadow across Neil and Albert’s shiny new Paris apartment. Well, it was new to them, although the Paris faction had owned the lovely old building under one business entity or another for more than a century.

They weren’t technically members of the Paris faction, but since Albert was now on the global council, which was based there, and Neil functioned as Albert’s assistant until he mastered the French language and could contribute more meaningfully, the Paris faction had responsibility for their lodging and future identity changes.

Neil closed the refrigerator door and handed a bag of blood to Albert. He shivered and smiled as Albert’s fangs descended with a click, then frowned when Albert’s phone rang, interrupting their morning ritual.

Albert retracted his fangs and glanced at the phone’s screen. He answered with a cheery, “Hello, how are you?”

As a relatively new vamp, Neil’s hearing was nowhere near the caliber of a more-than-two-thousand-year-old vamp like Albert, but it was still better than it had been as a human. So he couldn’t help but overhear the other side of the conversation, too.

“Good morning,” the caller said, equally upbeat, but with a serious undertone. “I wanted to draw your attention to an email I just sent you. You might want to examine it before today’s meeting.”

Short and to the point. Abbreviated and unspecific since phone calls were the least secure method of communication. But reading between the lines, Neil knew the email was encrypted and would be virtually shredded immediately after reading. Both actions were done with highly secure vampire proprietary software. The referenced meeting was the daily council meeting Albert would attend later that morning.

“Thank you. I’ll do that.” Albert clicked off and placed the phone back on the table. He retrieved his laptop, briefly and securely connected to the Internet, downloaded his email, then disconnected.

Neil stood aside as Albert decrypted and opened the email. As Albert’s assistant, Neil was instantly privy to most council business. With their gradually increasing super hearing, the vamps didn’t bother even trying to keep most of their business private. Not from each other. Information would have to be incredibly sensitive to be discussed only within the council’s secure chambers, and even then, it usually only meant a delay.

The vast majority of the worldwide vampire population were, at a minimum, decades old. Most could count their age in centuries. A few in millennia. Among the very few (if any) annual additions, if a candidate wasn’t judged to have a trustworthy character, they weren’t given the offer to join the ranks of the immortal vampires.

A slow grin spread across Albert’s face as he read. When he was done, he destroyed the email before turning to Neil.

“Your face,” Neil said. “You look like the proverbial kid in a candy shop.”

Albert chuckled. “You’ll never guess.”

Neil bounced on his toes and turned on his best imitation of puppy dog eyes. “Please just tell me. I don’t know. Anybody I can think of that y’all might’ve turned would be eliminated due to their fame.”

Albert’s smile widened. “The email wasn’t about a new recruit.”

Neil’s blood might run black now, but his heart still pumped, and it was racing in anticipation. “Have I mentioned that you’re a big tease?”

“Bigfoot shifters exist.”

Neil’s jaw dropped at the same time something clattered onto the floor in the apartment above them. Nothing could be said aloud in vamp apartment buildings without everyone knowing it.

Albert laughed and looked up. “Like that, Pierre?” Another snicker because Albert could hear what Neil couldn’t. Yet. “Nope, that wasn’t for your benefit.” And after another short pause, he added, “Cross my heart,” then turned back to Neil.

“Seriously?” Neil’s wide eyes no doubt broadcasted his own doubt.

“Why not? Is it so far fetched considering you now know vampires exist?”

“Other than the fact that vamps have existed for millennia and have apparently never encountered them before?”

“Ah, there is that. My theory, amor meus, is that we might’ve crossed paths in the old days before there was easy global communication, and anyone who knew has died out. Nowadays, vamps live only in large cities, and Bigfoot shifters reside in rural areas. Very rural, as in mountains, giant sequoias, cabins, and forests with thick layers of pine needles. They actually live mostly as humans in nearby towns, but hide out in the sticks when they’re due to shift.”

“Wow. Today’s council meeting is going to be far less routine that usual.” Neil grinned ear to ear as Albert picked the bag of blood back up.

“Definitely.” Albert waggled his eyebrows. “And we may never know, but I’d be curious to know what would happen if a shifter were turned by a vamp. Would they continue to shift? Would they be stuck in either human or shifted mode?”

“I wonder if combo creatures exist, sheltered and hidden by the shifter communities?”

All food for thought, but Neil’s brain short circuited when Albert’s fangs snicked out. He’d think about the Bigfoots later. Much later.

CLICK TO EXPAND: Birthday Panic ~ Part 1

Originally posted in my October, 2023 newsletter:

Birthday Panic is told entirely from Wilson’s (from Weekend at Bigfoot’s) 3rd-person POV. Written using the words disastrous ~ abject ~ useless ~ soft ~ cow ~ nebulous ~ mature ~ brainy ~ faded ~ tearful

Wilson

Wilson Banks stuffed his hands into his pockets and stared at the ground as Oliver Hughes paced with increasing urgency. The asphalt where they were standing at the far back corner of the Bangor, Maine Walmart Supercenter’s parking lot wasn’t truly interesting enough to merit such focused attention.

He felt as useless as the nearby empty cart corrals as his mind vacillated between calculating the least-likely-to-be-disastrous solution to their predicament and desperately trying not to splatter vomit across that already grungy surface. That would help neither their situation nor the mood of any poor sap who might step in it. Might help the roiling in his gut, though.

“To say that Lena will have a cow is putting it mildly,” Oliver muttered. “Not that I’m likely to get back to Tallbear to see it.”

Wilson winced. Oliver’s sister had had enough to say when Oliver had made the decision to move to Chicago to live with Wilson. She’d predicted all manner of doom and gloom befalling the Bigfoot community if Oliver ever failed to make it back to Tallbear in plenty of time for his annual shift. Doom and gloom that might very well come to fruition, so she had a fair ‘I told you so’ due.

“I’m sorry.” Wilson bit his lip and finally looked up to meet Oliver’s gaze.

“Not like it’s your fault.” Oliver lifted his hands with dramatic flair. “I never should have cut the travel timing so close.”

To be fair, there’d been a reasonable amount of cushion in their scheduling. Not the full week or two they would typically allow—that had always seemed like overkill—but several days of leeway.

Who could have predicted that a terrorist would plant a bomb at the airport they’d been scheduled to fly out of? Or that it would effectively take out both the power grid and the backup generators? Best case scenario, the airport in question would reopen in a few more days, but in the meantime, all flights in or out of that airport were cancelled.

Of course, all the nearest airports were flooded with people rescheduling their flights. Oliver and Wilson had been bumped from three different overbooked flights in the past couple days. The most recent, which they’d been assured they would be on, had dumped them two hours ago. That had been their last hope for a flight back to Northern California.

“Shouldn’t have trusted them. Should’ve have just spent a day driving to our contacts in the Cumberland Mountains community.” Oliver looked at his watch and shook his head. His usual meticulous grooming had taken a back seat to stress eating and working the problem—or trying to—but quite a bit of hair glitter remained to twinkle as his hair flopped back and forth. “Stupid, stupid, stupid! There’s not nearly enough time left now.” He barked out a harsh laugh. “If I get out of this unscathed, please, please don’t ever let me talk you into letting me tag along on another of your assignments this close to my birthday no matter how appealing it looks.”

“You will get out of this unscathed. We can head back up toward Pocomoonshine Lake. There’s a decent amount of forest there.”

“It’s probably the best bet, yeah.” If Oliver’s hangdog expression was any indicator, he didn’t have any confidence in that plan’s success. “And sure, it is kinda remote, but it doesn’t feel as isolated as the sequoia forests around Tallbear. More importantly, we don’t know the area. Don’t know where people might have cabins or be camping.”

“We’ve got all night. We’ll find something.” But in his heart, Wilson knew Oliver was right.

It wasn’t like they had either the time or ability to cover everything within a mile or so radius of some random seemingly-private spot. Oliver’s dramatic shift might draw unwanted attention to their presence, and there’d be nowhere to hide if anyone decided to investigate.

They both took a quick glance to the side where a mature man wearing faded jeans was ambling in their general direction. Presumably a Walmart employee, since that was who would park this far back in the lot, and there were a couple dozen vehicles scattered back here. And indeed the man—probably not quite old enough to be one of the store greeters—was angling toward a vehicle at the end of the row.

Wilson didn’t consider himself to be particularly brainy under pressure, but the nebulous idea that had brought them to this Walmart parking lot in the first place began fleshing out in his mind. A panel van might be the safety net they needed. They could rent one, then after Oliver’s shift, he could spend the day hiding in the back of that rather than wandering an unfamiliar forest.

They could go into the Walmart as they’d already planned, buy a huge cooler or two and enough fresh fruits and veggies to fill them, then go rent that van. Surely they could find somewhere remote enough before dawn for Oliver’s shift.

Oliver took Wilson’s hands in his as he whispered, “You know you’re going to have to abandon me in the woods, right?” His breath hitched, and his wobbly voice bordered on tearful. “We don’t have a breathing apparatus for you.”

“That won’t be necessary.”

Wilson and Oliver both jumped. That had come from the Walmart employee who was now veering toward them. His voice was warm and soft, yet his words were clear.

He seemed innocuous and friendly, yet something was off, because why? How had he heard Oliver’s whisper? Why would he think he knew what they were talking about, and why would he think whatever misconception he’d deduced was any of his business?

At best the guy was merely a busybody, but the possibility he was a serial killer felt further north of zero than the average encounter. Wilson’s stranger-danger meter pinged like a dagger to his heart.

Grasping Oliver’s hand, Wilson turned to scramble into their rental car, but in the very next instant, he found himself sitting in a moving vehicle—an RV?—buckled onto a sofa. blinking himself back to consciousness. Opposite him, buckled into an arm chair, sat the man who clearly was not a Walmart employee, smiling pleasantly.

Abject fear tore through Wilson’s mind, and his stomach clenched as if an icy fist were twisting his innards. “Oliver!” He turned his head quickly scanning his surroundings. There were four more men and women in the back of the RV with them, and two more in the driver and front passenger seats. Oliver was buckled beside him blinking like he, too, was coming back to awareness.

They were still holding hands. No…it was the opposite hand. Somehow that small thing—that they had been settled in a manner that might help ease their minds—helped. Not much, but he grasped that bit of hope like a lifeline.

Before either of them could say anything, the man spoke. “Rest assured, you are unharmed, and you will remain unharmed. We are here to help you out of the predicament you find yourself in.” His smile once again felt genuinely friendly as opposed to slick and cruel like one might expect upon waking up after an abduction. “Lena need never know how precarious your situation was.”

Wilson squeezed Oliver’s hand in a manner he hoped might be comforting, and Oliver returned the press. The man continued his monologue. “I sincerely regret the measures we had to take to contain the situation, but you were clearly about to bolt, yes?”

He didn’t wait for an answer, which was just as well. Wilson’s mind was too busy whirling with questions to decide whether or not it would be best to ‘fess up to that.

“Of course you were. I don’t blame you. That’s the sane reaction. But it was mission critical that the scene appear—for the sake of the security cameras, you see—as if we were all meeting up there as per some prearranged plans before heading out together. And that’s exactly what any casual observers and/or security cameras will see.”

“But, why?” Oliver found his voice first, and his eyes narrowed. “How do you know about my sister, and what is it you think you know about me and my so-called predicament?”

“Think?” The man outright chuckled at that. “We know everything about you and your people. We were quite excited to learn about the existence of another variety of paranormal beings when you pinged our radar in New Orleans a couple years ago. We’ve made quite a study of your people since then while also—” he nodded at Wilson. “—making sure you don’t write anything too on-the-nose about my people.”

Oliver’s grip on Wilson’s hand tightened painfully. The only time Wilson had been to New Orleans in the past couple years was when he’d been chasing down quotes for a story he’d been assigned about vampires for Sensational News (Never Fake! We Swear!). Oliver had tagged along for that one, too.

Vampires.

Vampires!

Wilson swallowed. “You’re not…uh…” But really, knowing that Bigfoot shifters existed made the idea of vampires also existing less insane than he would have considered it to be before learning Oliver’s secret.

In reply to Wilson’s not-quite-a-question, the man smiled, and with a pair of loud snicks, extended then immediately retracted a set of lethal-looking incisors.

Before Wilson could react beyond further stiffening, the man said, “That wasn’t to frighten you. Again, we mean you no harm. It was more to wash away any lingering doubts and to establish some mutual trust. We know about you and your people, Oliver, and now you know about us.”

Oliver’s voice was little more than a squeak. “Why are you helping me?”

CLICK TO EXPAND: Birthday Panic ~ Part 2

Originally posted in my November, 2023 newsletter:

Written using the words short ~ creep ~ dead ~ lettuce ~ handsome

Wilson

“And what,” added Wilson. “Precisely, is the plan?”

“Good questions.” The man who appeared to be the leader of this group of vampires sat back and tilted his head as he glanced back and forth between the two of them. “First the ‘why.’ If any group of paranormal beings were outed to humans, do either of you think that humans wouldn’t pull out all the stops to actively look for signs of others?”

“No,” Wilson said, and he and Oliver both shook their heads. “They sure wouldn’t.”

“Exactly. Trust me when I say this operation is a big fucking deal. Perhaps it would have been possible to simply monitor your own efforts and only step in if needed, but this was deemed to be the path least likely to result in any…complications that might make it trickier to maintain the secrecy we both require. Better to prevent those complications than to clean up after them.

“The decision to out ourselves to the two of you was voted on by our global council members and by every faction leader worldwide. Deliberately outing ourselves in this manner is unprecedented, but ultimately, we decided that you, Oliver, had as much to lose as we did if any paranormal beings were outed to humans, and you, Wilson, have proven your trustworthiness over the past few years and are likewise invested in maintaining the secrecy of paranormal beings.”

Good points. Wilson gave Oliver’s hand another gentle and hopefully reassuring squeeze.

“Now,” The man said. “Before we move on to the plan details, how about a round of introductions?”

The man spoke with the polite tone one might expect at a formal dinner party, and everything he’d said so far was done with a sincere undertone. Nothing creepy or sinister to set off alarm bells again.

In fact, the pragmatic side of Wilson that had once upon a time irked his ex-boyfriend because Wilson didn’t tend to show much emotion moved to the forefront. The vampires had the upper hand, seemed to genuinely want to help, and regardless, he and Oliver no way of escaping unless the vampires outright let them.

Wilson nodded and took a calming breath. “All right.” Introductions would be a step toward mitigating the vast information imbalance between them. “Obviously, you already know who we are.” In fine detail.

Oliver leveled some mild side-eye with a hint of curiosity in it at him, and a corner of his mouth twitched. They’d laughed over the years reminiscing about how calm Wilson had been when he’d first stumbled across Oliver in Bigfoot form, and the juxtaposition of that compared to the reactions of others in the handful of random Bigfoot sightings reported over the years.

Perhaps Wilson’s pragmatism was contagious, because a little of the stiffness in Oliver’s body relaxed, and he seconded Wilson’s response—albeit with a slight warble. “Yes, introductions would be great.”

The vampire returned their nods. “My name is Marvin. I’m the faction leader of the Boston-Worcester-Springfield Massachusetts collective. Quite the opposite of your people—” Marvin inclined his head toward Oliver. “—we’ve settled only in larger cities. Mostly in huge metropolises, but sometimes in groupings of closely situated less massive, but still large cities. Our faction was the closest, so we caught the assignment to keep an eye on you during your trip to Maine to put together a story on the Pocomoonshine Lake monster.” He winked at Wilson. “That doesn’t exist, by the way.”

Wilson snorted. “No, I didn’t think so. I’m more openminded to paranormal or supernatural possibilities than I once was, but that one is clearly explainable.”

Marvin pointed to each of the others in the camper and introduced them in turn—Luke was driving with Jessica in the passenger seat. The remaining four in the camper living area with them included Evan, who was on the short side and classically handsome. He stood closest to them and gave off an air of status. The remaining three were Josh, Scott, and Lauren, who were all nondescript in appearance.

There was nary a Lazarus or Lilith amongst them, but that made perfect sense since their apparent goal was to blend in with human society. Much like the Bigfoot community did.

“Evan is the leader of my security team.” Marvin gestured to the man in question. “Each of these fine folks here and those who are currently monitoring the location we’ve selected for our campsite are members of the security team.

“I assure you they are all very experienced and highly skilled and capable of handling any glitches to the plan that might arise.”

“I have a few concerns.” Oliver gnawed his lip, but his voice was steady. “One, anyone nearby when I shift needs a breathing apparatus such as scuba gear. And two, I eat a lot when I’m in my shifted form. We were about to go into that Walmart and fill up a couple coolers worth of fruit and veggies for me. And three, yeah, there’ll be trees, but tomorrow is supposed to be sunny. Won’t that cause you guys problems?”

“No worries, Oliver. We—or I should say members of our Portland-Seattle collective faction—have observed several shifts, so we’re aware of those needs. We have a scuba tank and mask stashed here in the camper for Wilson’s use. Nobody else who needs to breathe will be in the danger zone, and the burning-up-in-direct-sunlight thing is a myth. We’ll be fine.”

Nobody else who needs to breathe. Wilson and Oliver shared a wide-eyed glance.

Marvin continued as if he hadn’t just dropped a scary, we’re-kinda-dead-but-kinda-not bombshell on them. “And we’ve got three massive coolers on board filled with everything from heads of lettuce to carrots, corn on the cob, peppers, apples, oranges, bananas, etcetera, etcetera. You won’t go hungry. We’ve provided more than we’ve ever observed one of your people eating during a shift. And we’ve got oversized tarps to protect the camper during the shift itself.”

“Wow.” Wilson bobbed his head. He was equal parts impressed and horrified by their knowledge and competence. He shot another glance at Oliver, whose Adam’s apple was bobbing repeatedly. Oliver tended to swallow a lot when nervous.

Wilson had so many questions, like how did vampires manage to hide their existence when they were immortal? That might have been easy in centuries past, but in modern society with social security numbers, etcetera? For that matter, were they immortal? Had he been on the right track with his thoughts in New Orleans about a connection between vampires and blood banks? And how had they gotten himself and Oliver from that Walmart parking lot to this moving camper in the blink of an eye?

The answers to those questions would have to wait…assuming the vampires would be forthcoming at all. Oliver was his priority now. Wilson fully turned to Oliver and reached across so he could hold both hands.

He rubbed his thumbs along Oliver’s wrists. “I think we’re going to be okay, love. They need this to succeed as much as we do. They’re obviously uber-competent, and if they’d wanted to solve the problem by…uh…eliminating us, they never would have approached us in that parking lot full of security cameras. They’d have followed us to the boonies and done…well…whatever that plan would have been to us there. If we disappear now, the investigation will lead to them.”

One of the men—Scott—standing nearby snorted. “And we’d have missed out on a chance to observe a Bigfoot shift” He grinned and shook his head. “Not a chance.”

“Besides,” added Lauren. “We value human life.”

Josh bobbed his head. “Or Bigfoot life, as the case may be.”

“Point being,” Evan said. “’Eliminating’ people—particularly innocent people—to protect the secrecy of our existence is always a last resort. Can’t say it’s never happened. But we try very hard to avoid it.”

Oliver’s gaze bounced from one vampire to another as they spoke, then back to Wilson. “You’re right.” He gave a nervous laugh, but his body further untensed. “That makes sense.”

He turned back to Marvin to add, “I guess I have a general sense of your plan now—which kind of mirrors our own only with ramped up security…thank you for that—but I’d like to know the details of your plan.”

“Absolutely.” Marvin grinned broadly. “Here’s what we’re going to do…”

CLICK TO EXPAND: Birthday Panic ~ Part 3

Originally posted in my December, 2023 newsletter:

Written using the words accidental ~ overtake ~ yielding ~ distance ~ join

Wilson

The plan that Marvin proceeded to outline in detail did indeed mirror the vague plan Wilson and Oliver had worked out for themselves—assuming they were talking about a funhouse mirror.

Both plans included coolers full of food to sustain Oliver in his ravenous Bigfoot form. Thank goodness the vamps knew about that because Wilson would never forget what had happened to Oliver’s aunt. He was always careful to get more than enough food.

Both plans included a vehicle Oliver could hide in, except instead of a barren panel van he would essentially have had to huddle in for the entirety of what would’ve been a miserable birthday since they didn’t know what to expect privacy-wise in the area, they had this luxury camper and a wide net of security personnel who would be an effective early warning system if Oliver needed to go into hiding.

Wilson interjected with the occasional “Wow,” or “Impressive,” and Oliver sounded like he’d stifled a hysterical giggle at one point, but otherwise they were quiet as Marvin laid out the plan. Marvin didn’t bring it up, but the vampires could probably use whatever that mysterious power was that had zombified Wilson and Oliver, causing them to lose time as they’d been transported from that Walmart parking lot into the camper.

The security vamps who’d both cased a myriad of potential sites ahead of time and who were already forming an advanced perimeter around the chosen site were the most appreciated of all. Their “campsite” wasn’t as close to Pocomoonshine Lake as Wilson and Oliver had been considering but was every bit as isolated as they could hope for.

By the time Marvin finished, Oliver’s lips were twitching in the direction of a grin, and the tight knot in Wilson’s gut had relaxed. Wilson snaked an arm around Oliver’s waist and pulled him close. Oliver ramped up that starter grin to a full-wattage smile and rested his head on Wilson’s shoulder before returning his focus to Marvin.

“You know,” Oliver said. “Before Wilson came into my life, I avoided having others—even though they would have been other Bigfoot shifters—with me on my birthday. At least I avoided it once I was old enough for my parents to become more yielding on the subject.

“Even worse, the idea of being accidentally spotted by an outsider was…is…horrifying to me because the idea of being treated as a spectacle is awful on top of what it could mean for all my people if we were seriously outed.”

Oliver shook his head. “But this time? I’m just so damned overtaken by relief and thankfulness for all of you coming to my rescue that I don’t even care that I’ll be sharing the day with way more people than ever before. You can even get in line to join Wilson for his annual ‘biggie back ride’ if you want.”

Josh perked up at that, and who could blame him? Not Wilson. “Heck yeah. Sign me up.” He nodded at Marvin. “Assuming the boss allows it.”

Marvin snorted. “You’ll all be rotating on and off duty throughout the day. Up to you how you want to spend your down time.”

“Cool.” Scott nodded. “Count me in, too.”

“And me.” Lauren’s smile was almost as bright as Oliver’s.

“Any questions?” Marvin inclined his head toward Wilson and Oliver as they turned onto a dirt road. “We’re getting close to the site.”

“Already?” Oliver said. “How long were we knocked out?”

“More than an hour. Sorry about that, but there’ll be no lasting effects, and it felt best to get well out of Bangor before letting you waken.”

Fair point. They probably should have realized that since they’d been driving on a secondary highway in a very rural area since awakening, but they’d had other things on their minds.

Between that stretch of unconsciousness and Marvin’s talk, they’d closed the distance to their destination in seemingly no time at all. Which should probably be alarming, but with only a few hours to go until sunrise, it was more of a relief.

“Okay.” Oliver shrugged. “I don’t have any questions other than to ask if you guys are going to play fair.”

Marvin quirked an eyebrow. “Meaning?”

“Meaning, you’re going to get the full Bigfoot experience. Are you going to demonstrate some of your special vampire abilities for us?”

Which was exactly what Wilson had been wondering, too.

Marvin and Evan exchanged amused grins. Apparently, they’d covered all this in advance, because Evan replied without further consulting Marvin. “You’ll probably be surprised to learn that much of the lore is utter bullshit. We already mentioned that sunlight won’t affect us. Also, we don’t magically shift into bats, we don’t fly, and we don’t zip around at supersonic speeds.”

Oliver snickered. “What do you do?”

“Our senses of smell and hearing improve greatly as we age, topping out at around one thousand years. Eyesight is perfect, but otherwise normal. No microscopic or telescopic vision. Our memories from the time of turning are perfect.

“As noted earlier, we don’t have to breathe—we choose to cultivate a deeply ingrained habit of breathing when we are awake so as not to set off alarm bells when we are out in public, to take advantage of the benefits of that boosted sense of smell, and because we couldn’t talk without the airflow over our larynxes.

“We are immortal in that we won’t die of natural causes. The older we get, the better our self-healing properties, making us more difficult to kill. But we can be killed by anything that would kill you and that our self-healing can’t overcome quickly enough. Everything else is technology. Between being immortal and having perfect recall, it’s amazing what can be accomplished.”

Wilson straightened and blinked at Evan. “You mean the zombie ray is tech? Not some kind of mind meld superpower?”

“Correct.”

“Huh,” Oliver said. “I can’t decide if that’s more or less terrifying.”

“How about blood?” Wilson asked. “Was I on the right track in New Orleans?”

“You were.” Evan nodded. “We do require blood and cannot consume anything else without uncomfortable consequences. But in the years since your investigation, we’ve learned how to cultivate the blood ourselves, so we’re slowly phasing our people out of the blood bank and waste-blood disposal industries.”

Wilson was going to ask about how immortals got by in the modern world with the birth certificates and social security numbers needed to get by in life, but Marvin cocked his head like he was listening to something, and said, “We’re inside our security perimeter and about to turn off this dirt road.”

With that, Luke slowed the camper and turned off where there was a wide gap in the trees onto a path that looked like it had maybe once been driven over, but was overgrown to the point that it was obviously not currently being used for vehicles.

Marvin said, “There’s nobody currently within ten miles of this spot. There’s a small camper parked about five miles away, but our best guess is it’s for occasional use by hunters, and it’s currently out of season.”

“Sounds good,” Oliver said.

Wilson nodded. It did sound good. A path like this was necessary to get their camper off road far enough to be safe. And after all, the vamps had elevated senses and had been here for a couple days. Should be safe. Right?

Right?

CLICK TO EXPAND: Birthday Panic ~ Part 4

Originally posted in my January, 2024 newsletter:

No prompt words used.

Wilson

Wilson squeezed Oliver’s hand and earned a peck on his cheek. Probably closer to a kiss than a peck since Oliver’s lips lingered for a tantalizing, reassuring moment. The wad of crumpled barbed wire that had taken up residence in Wilson’s stomach earlier in the night had long since dissipated like Shawshank’s Warden Norton’s fart in the wind.

“Happy birthday, love,” Wilson murmured.

Oliver snorted. “It actually will be, after all.” He shook his head. “It’s been a night to remember, eh?”

After they’d arrived at the chosen site, the vamps had worked efficiently, setting up the camper and prepping it with a double layer of heavy-duty tarps to protect it from flying debris. The thoroughness of the vampires even extended to climbing trees to make sure the ones overhead of where they were parking and where Oliver would stand for his shift had no unhealthy larger branches likely to be knocked down by the winds of Oliver’s shift.

Oliver bounced from foot to foot as he squinted at the eastern sky. He checked his watch for about the tenth time in as many minutes. “It’s almost time.” He gave Wilson’s hand a final press before pulling off his shirt and thrusting it at Wilson. “Remember, don’t wait until the last second. Put that oxygen mask on as soon as you go in.”

Wilson grinned. “I know, love. I know.”

Oliver rolled his eyes. Despite his earlier bravado about so many people sharing this day with him, his movements were stilted as he pulled off the remainder of his clothes. At least the vamps were pointedly not paying any attention.

Oliver’s oversized—for now—nipple ring glinted in the lamplight. There wasn’t as much glitter in his hair as per usual, but Wilson wouldn’t have bet against it sticking through Oliver’s upcoming personal tornado.

Wilson folded Oliver’s clothes into a neat stack and nodded at Marvin. “You guys don’t have to worry about oxygen, but you’ll still go inside, right? I mean, you can still get injured by flying debris, potentially bad enough that the self-healing you mentioned won’t overcome it, right?”

Marvin nodded. “True. Our people on the perimeter are far enough away, but I highly recommend the rest of you—” He moved an arm to encompass the other six vampires they’d traveled with plus three more who’d been at the campsite when they’d arrived. “—wait out Oliver’s shift inside. You can make your own decisions, but I think that’s the wise move.”

“Agreed,” Evan said with a firm nod.

“Yeah.” Lauren’s tone was more of a grumble. “Much as I’d love to witness the shift, I don’t want to risk ending up with a proverbial wooden stake through the heart.”

Scott affected a shiver. “Inside it is. But is there time to cut a few peep holes in the tarps?”

Marvin raised an eyebrow and bounced his gaze between Oliver and Wilson. “In your experience, how risky would that be to the camper’s windows?”

Oliver said, “There’s going to be a lot of tree shit flying around. Our cabins have shutters on the windows that we close for the shift, but Wilson’s able to peek out between them.” He cocked his head at Wilson. “You’ve said you can’t really see me once everything starts flying, anyway, right?”

“Right. As the shift begins, he raises his arms, then the wind kicks up pretty much immediately. It’s like a little tornado around him, and I can’t really see the actual shift. Just the swirling mess around him.”

“Oof.” Scott shrugged. “Cool, but not worth the risk, I guess.”

Oliver winked over his shoulder as he sauntered toward the slight clearing where he would shift. “The biggie back rides will make up for it.”

“Whoa, whoa.” Adam, one of the three who’d already been at the site when they’d arrived perked up. “Is that what it sounds like?”

“So we’re told,” Marvin said with a grin.

Wilson lifted the corner of tarp covering the door and led the way inside. He heaved a sigh and picked up the scuba tank, regulator, and mask. He’d been through the process enough times now that muscle memory took over, and he was fully equipped before realizing what he was doing.

That part of this birthday was routine, but nothing else about this day would be. Honestly, he looked forward to most of the uniqueness of this day, but much as he’d said there wasn’t much to see during the shift itself, he would miss being able to glimpse it through the crack between the shutters. It was a tenuous connection to Oliver during that chaotic phase at best, but his chin trembled knowing he’d be missing it.

All the vamps were repeatedly checking their watches, practically vibrating with excitement, counting off the minutes. For the final minute, they counted down the seconds in unison.

Until they got to five seconds, and three of the vamps’ heads jerked up like they’d just gone into high alert.

That wad of crumpled barbed wire reappeared in Wilson’s gut. He pulled out his regulator. “What is it?”

“Fuck,” Evan muttered. “How did we miss this? How is this even possible?”

Jessica moved to open the door as Scott asked, “What? I don’t smell it.”

Marvin put up an arm to block Jessica. “It’s too late. The wind will protect him, but we need to be ready to run out there the instant it dies down.”

Wilson’s eyes widened, and his hands shook as that barbed wire in his gut started to spin. He repeated, “What is it?”

Marvin’s face was a grim mask as he deadpanned, “A starving rogue vamp.”

Outside, alone, in the moment the sun peeked over the horizon, Oliver screamed. Then the wind picked up with a deafening roar.

Outside, alone, in the moment the sun peeked over the horizon, Oliver screamed. Then the wind picked up with a deafening roar.

Wilson frantically pushed toward the door as the words “starving rogue vamp” and Oliver’s horrifying scream reverberated through his head. At least two sets of hands held him back, tightening their grip painfully as he kicked and yanked against their hold.

He wailed, “Oliver!” with a strength that likely carried through the tornadic wind, then, in the next instant, he was outside, reclining in a folding lounge chair one of the vamps must’ve brought out, blinking himself awake. Damned vampires and their zombie ray tech.

There was a general sense of calm around the two huddles of vampires on the other side of the clearing, and Wilson wasn’t entirely sure whether to be upset or thankful to have missed the panic-stricken and impotent minute that would have felt like hours before he would have been able to rush to Oliver’s aid. Or more likely, been in the way of the vampires who were all trained in security and far more knowledgeable about the foe they were facing.

He shook his head to clear away the last of the cobwebs. His mask and regulator were back in place. Briefly. He tore them off as he leapt up and ran toward one of the huddles. The one with Oliver in the middle of it. Oliver in Bigfoot form.

He expelled a shaky breath. Bigfoot form. That meant he was alive. When Oliver’s aunt Ida had died while in shifted form, her body had shifted back into human form despite the time being well before sunset.

Still, Oliver had screamed. He’d been attacked. By a starving rogue vampire.

Wilson stopped outside the group surrounding Oliver and concentrated on working through a couple steadying breaths. Oliver was alive. The vamps surrounding him were calm. Everything was going to be okay. Presumably. And reverting to panic mode wouldn’t help anyone.

Marvin looked over his shoulder and waved Wilson forward. “He’s going to be fine. Scott and Lauren are both trained as physicians and are taking good care of him.”

So, “going to be fine” did not equate to uninjured. “How bad is he hurt?”

Lauren answered. “About ten sutures worth, but nothing critical was hit. He’ll be fine.”

Indeed, there was an open medical bag, and Josh was holding a small tray with various items Wilson couldn’t name on it, and with gloved hands, Jessica handed one of the things from the tray to Scott without him having to ask. She just knew.

Scott held a curved and threaded needle with some kind of scissor clamp and confidently pushed the needle through the skin on the side of Oliver’s head, which had been trimmed close but not shaved around the open wound.

Oliver’s gaze moved from the other huddle, where he’d been staring blankly at the vamp who’d attacked him, to gaze at Wilson and wink. Wink!

Wilson wouldn’t have thought it possible, but a corner of his mouth quirked up, albeit fleetingly. “Sorry. I guess I freaked, and they zombie rayed me again, or I would have been here for you sooner.”

A Chewbacca-like gurgle escaped Oliver’s lips, and his eyes effectively conveyed the sentiment that it was good to know something could break through Wilson’s usual chill. At least, that was how Wilson interpreted the humorous glint in Oliver’s eye.

Then Oliver twitched his chin up. Amazing how well his body language communicated when he was unable to articulate words. This time, he seemed to be saying, “Don’t worry. I’m fine.”

Then he scowled in the direction of the other vampire huddle, and Wilson turned his attention to Oliver’s attacker. It was a woman. A grubby, dirt encrusted woman whose eyes glinted like what one would expect on a rabid jackal. She was sucking on a bag of blood like it was a last-ditch lifeline. Which it probably was. The third such bag, judging by the empties on the ground.

“You’re feeding her!?”

Marvin cocked his head and looked pointedly into Wilson’s eyes. “Of course.”

“But,” Wilson sputtered. “She tried to eat Oliver!”

“Because she was starving.” Marvin said the words like it was a simple concept. Which, to be fair, perhaps it was. Not so easy to see when the love of your life was the target of her need to feed, though. Apparently, the verdict was not guilty. Or at least pending a fair trial. No jumping to conclusions with this lot.

The slant to Oliver’s eyes was a touch disbelieving, too. Not sure whether that was vindication or not, but the renewed tension in Wilson’s shoulders eased at the solidarity.

“Sorry,” Marvin said. “I guess it’s not reasonable to expect you to realize, but those of us who are old enough to be on the security team or in positions of leadership, were around in rougher times, before we were organized and had stable, safe, and unharmful sources for feeding. Most of us know firsthand what she’s feeling when she’s resisted the urge to feed to the point of starvation.” His jaw was tighter as he bit out his next words. “We’ve been there. Done that.”

Evan nodded his agreement from the other huddle. He was the one holding the bag the woman was feeding from. Her own hands were held down by two of the others. “What a starving vamp does is not an indication of their true nature. Or if anything, it’s a good sign that she resisted feeding for so long when she couldn’t think of any way to do so without harming someone.”

Wilson’s shoulders slumped. Apparently, he couldn’t even justly hold a satisfying hate-on for Oliver’s attacker. And the reasonable side of him had to agree. The woman deserved a chance to explain her situation. Speaking of…

“How did this happen, anyway? You guys are organized now. Who is she, and how could she fly under the radar without being part of your organization?”

“We have the same questions,” Evan said. He gave her a solid sniff. “I’m pretty sure this is her first feeding.” He turned his gaze to Marvin. “It’s essential that we get to the bottom of this.”

** TO BE CONTINUED IN NEXT MONTH’S NEWSLETTER (to be fair, I am out of prompt words, and whose fault is that? ) **