Tail of the Devil (7 page)

“Mathias Drvar, while you are in my home, you will abide by my rules!”

Mathias glared at the man seated in front of him. “Your rules? What fucking rules? I’m supposed to respect you just because you say so? Please. Your rules don’t mean shit! I never asked for this.”

Tepes rubbed his temples. “Oh, Mathias. Why do you always have to be so difficult?”

Mathias filled his mouth with saliva and spat into Tepes’ eye.

The great vampire stood. His height seemed to double and his wings blazed behind his back in what, to Mathias, looked like black fire. His eyes glowed red as coals. The vampire leaned over the table, stopping only when their noses were almost touching. “Do you want to die?”

For the first time in a long while, Mathias was scared. He was more scared than when his cousins were trying to kill him, more scared than when he died the first time. It all became real. The fear and the anguish made him feel like he’d been punched in the gut.

The vampire grabbed Mathias by the arm. Mathias stared at the man in shock. He thought the huge vampire was going to kill him for sure. Then, to really make all of this worse, Mathias wet himself.

Tepes stopped, and then he released his hold on Mathias. “I... I’m sorry, Mathias.”

Mathias ran from the room and into his own, slamming the door shut behind him. He whipped back around and turned the key in the lock, even though he knew with the magic that Tepes had, the vampire could enter anywhere he liked at any time. But, the lock was something at least.

* * * * *

He crawled into his bed and buried his face in the covers. He wanted to escape, needed to, but he didn’t have the advantages he had the last time…

When Mathias was sure that his aunt and everyone were asleep, he packed his things and left his bag on the couch. Then, he tiptoed into the kitchen where his aunt kept her purse. Moving through the dark, he narrowly missed bumping into the kitchen table and managed to reach the counter without any mishaps. Just as he was reaching into her purse, her car keys tumbled from the purse onto the counter. He froze. “Please God, don’t let them wake up.”

He looked around. Somehow the noise wasn’t noticed. They hadn’t woken up. He wiped the sweat from his brow and grabbed the bills he could find in her purse. A few twenties, a fifty, and some ones. He had almost two hundred dollars. Then, he grabbed a few blank checks from her checkbook. He hoped that it would be enough to get him far away. He didn’t care where, just so long as he couldn’t be found.

He dashed back into the living room and grabbed his bag. He surveyed the house that had been his hell for the last few weeks. One thing he knew for sure, he would not miss this place. He would miss the dog, but he had no way of rescuing it.

As fast as he could walk without making much noise, he made his way back into the kitchen. He opened the door to the basement. “If I can get down these stairs God, please.”

He crept down the stairs, remembering to close the door softly behind him. He weaved his way through the maze he’d made earlier. Once he reached the secret door he spat on his hands and smeared the hinges with it. He hoped it would be enough. He knew going back upstairs wasn’t going to work. If he left through the back door, the dog would probably bark. And, the front door was not an option. It was too close to his aunt’s room. This basement door was his only chance. “Please, don’t let them squeak.” He lifted his hand to the doorknob and turned it gently. The door opened stiffly, and seemed to grind against the hinges, but there was no squeak. Finally, the door would no open any more than it had, and Mathias squeezed between the door and the jamb and finally got out of the house.

He didn’t waste time trying to shut the door. He ran down the hill as fast as he could. He knew he had to get out of town, as quickly as possible. His aunt always got up at seven. If he could get out of there before then, he’d be okay. He didn’t even stop to take a breath, sticking to the shadows and froze in mid-step when he heard the sound of a car driving by.

At last, he saw Main Street in the distance. Seeing the street gave him a bit of hope and he stopped to calm himself. No sense in rushing. He was there. He walked to the bus station as he would on any day, not wanting to draw attention to himself.

He was careful, trying not to make noise when he walked. So interested in not making a sound, he almost stepped on an old man slumped on the sidewalk. He was dressed in old faded clothing. Some of it bore the stains of god-knows-what, but at least it covered him, kept him warm. His long white hair was matted in spots, and he reeked of alcohol.

He sighed. “Not like I can get anything better.”

Mathias tapped the old man on the shoulder. The old man groaned in his sleep and farted. Mathias had to suppress a giggle. He shook the man. The man jerked awake and tried to scramble away.

“Mister, it’s okay. I just need some help.” Mathias said, hoping that he could calm the man down.

“Boy what you doin’ out here this late?” The old man asked while scratching his crotch.

“Mister, I gotta get out of here... If you buy me a bus ticket to New York City, I’ll give you twenty dollars.” Mathias figured that the guy looked like he could use it.

The man looked at Mathias for a minute. “You got that hungry look in your eye, kid. I’ll get you ya ticket. Don’t haveta give me no money neither. What’s your name?”

Mathias smiled. “Mathias Drvar. You sure about the money?”

“I’m sure, where you goin’ you gonna need it.”

Mathias nodded and handed the man a hundred dollars. The old man looked at the money for a moment, almost as if he was thinking about taking the money for himself, but thought better of it. They waited for hours. Anytime a car drove by, the old man hid Mathias behind his grimy coat.

Finally, very early in the morning, a car pulled into the parking lot. A man stepped out of his old yellow Subaru and unlocked the door to the station. He was a wiry man wearing a grey uniform that consisted of a muted grey cotton shirt, a darker grey tie, and a pair of charcoal grey pants. He stepped in and locked the door behind him. After what seemed forever, the man inside the station opened the door and flipped the sign to “Open.” The old man patted Mathias on the head and walked into the bus station.

Mathias watched through the window. The bus station was old and cruddy. The walls were peppered with torn advertisements from various years. The chairs were the old neon plastic chairs on rails that had been popular during the nineteen sixties and seventies. The desk was covered in laminate that was peeling in places. He felt for the man as the sales person wrinkled his nose at the sight of him. The sales person checked the man’s ID and held it by the very edge as if not to touch it. A few minutes later, the old man was walking outside to him. He handed Mathias the bus ticket and some change. He couldn’t help but smile as the old man patted his hands after he handed him his things.

“Now, first bus outta here ain’t til 6:45. You hop on that bus, then change in Cleveland. After that, you’ll be going where you wanta go.”

Mathias’ eyes widened and he began to sweat. “What am I going to do until I can leave?”

“You gonna sit here with me. I’ll make sure you get on that damn bus.”

“Are you sure you don’t want anything?” Mathias asked.

“Nah, you need it more’n me. I can take care of me’self. Take care kid. Where you goin’, it ain’t easy.”

Before he knew it, he was on the bus and leaving town. He wrapped his arms around his knees and leaned back into the bus seat.

It felt good to be free.

* * * * *

In Cleveland, he grabbed a candy bar from a machine and ate. It wasn’t the best breakfast in the world, but it was something. The bus station was a lot more modern than the one he’d been in at Wheeling. He sat and waited. He kept to himself. It was hard not to be nervous, but at least he was out of West Virginia, and he had a few hours on them.

When he arrived in New York, hours later, even though he was tired and hungry, he couldn’t help but be in awe of the city that stretched before him. It was early evening. Amidst all the flashing lights and souvenir sellers, there was a certain charm about the city. It felt dirty, and smelled kind of funny—like a combination of dirt, metal, and meat, but somehow, it all made it seem more real. The skyscrapers seemed to encase the city inside its own protective cover. And to think, he was really here, Broadway, the Rockettes, he was in a place that most of his family only dreamed about. He looked around, saw the crowds, and relaxed.

The buildings were far bigger than anything Mathias had seen before. He saw no trees, nothing green, only the grey sky peeping over the tops of the tall buildings. Of all the things he knew, Mathias had one thought on his mind— that this would be a place where he could get lost, and that was just what he needed.

He slung his bag over his shoulder and stepped out into the melee of the New York City sidewalk system. People came from all sides, and he allowed himself to be carried along with the tide.

Eventually, he noticed that the tide was thinner. Looking around, the buildings weren’t as nice as those he’d first encountered. He was only a couple of blocks from the bus station, but the difference was startling. The buildings, at one time would have been kind of nice looking, now they were covered in graffiti and crumbling on top of themselves. They didn’t look safe.

He looked around and found an old hotel. It was dirty looking with murky windows that you knew hadn’t been washed in decades. He walked in, and approached the counter.

“Whatcha want, kid?” The man behind the counter was dirty. His black hair was plastered to his scalp with sweat, and sweat stains stained the armpits of his white t-shirt.

Mathias adjusted his backpack. “I need a room for the night.”

The man stared at him and sat back down on his chair behind the counter. “Get lost, kid.”

“What? I have money.”

The man rolled his eyes. “You got ID?”

“No, I don’t need ID unless I want to get my learner’s permit.” Mathias stared at the man.

“Exactly.”

Mathias sighed. “I don’t understand.”

“Kid, we don’t rent to no one under eighteen. No place in this city will give a room to somebody under eighteen without a guardian. Now, get outta here, I’m missing my soaps.”

Mathias slunk out of the hotel. There was nothing to do now but get something to eat. He
stepped into a diner a couple of blocks from the hotel. The diner looked just as shabby on the inside as it did on the outside, not that he could really tell because the windows were so dirty. They were so murky with grime that Mathias could barely see the “Pinky’s Place” sign painted on the window. He took a deep breath and entered the diner.

The counter looked a bit less dirty than the booths, and Mathias sat down on a stool and waited. Not long after, an old waitress came over to get his order. Her hair was dyed clown red. She wore a pink uniform that had seen too many trips in the washer and her face was a mask of lines. Her blue eye shadow was so blue that Mathias thought he was looking at an alien for a moment.

“Whatcha want?” she asked.

Mathias looked at the menu on the wall. “A turkey club, some fries, and a coke.”

The waitress turned to the open area to the kitchen. “Pinky! I need a turkey club and some frog sticks.”

Mathias’ heart hammered in his chest. “I don’t want anything frog!”