The Harvesting (19 page)

I took the key but shot Jamie an
inquisitive look. He smiled bashfully and shrugged.

“
And you are?” she said,
looking at Frenchie.

“
Frenchie Davis, and this
is Kira and Susan,” she introduced, but I squeezed Frenchie’s hand
hard, and she said no more.

“
Aw, how cute,” Matilda
said, looking at Kira and Susan. The expression on her face told me
she thought they were anything but cute.

“
She needs a room beside
mine,” I told Matilda.

Matilda turned to look at me, and I
noticed that same odd movement about her I had seen in Corbin. She
stared at me for a moment. “I’m sorry, I have nothing available,
but I do have 313 for you, Ms. Davis. There are two beds in that
room,” she replied and handed Frenchie a key.

After she had gone, I joined Jamie and
Ian. Jamie was standing at the back of Ian’s wheelchair.

“
Where are you?” I asked
Ian. He was holding a key in his hand.

“
They put me on the ground
floor near the infirmary: room 195. I guess the doctor will be able
to see me right away. I’m going now,” Ian said.

I took Jamie’s bag from his shoulder.
“I got this.”

Jamie nodded. “I’ll be up in a
few.”

Ian looked away, but I had seen the
look on his face.

Jamie turned and pushed Ian down the
hallway.

Matilda had finished passing out the
keys and was standing with the clipboard at the check-in table. I
noticed a man behind the counter. He had the same odd way about him
as the others and had long, black hair, light eyes, and pale
skin.

I went up to them. Trying to play
nice, I smiled at Matilda. “I’d like a copy of that list,” I said,
looking down at her clipboard.

She looked surprised. “Whatever
for?”

As I looked at her, I thought about
how easily we fall for anyone who seems to be in authority. Our
natural paranoia, eroded by near bombardment of our private lives,
has stripped us of the instinct to shelter ourselves from
strangers. Everyone I loved had put their name on that list, had
allowed these people to tell them exactly where they would be. I
did not like it one bit. I gave Matilda a hard look.

In that moment, I saw a dark shadow
pass over her face, the mask falling away. She covered it quickly.
“Well, as you know, we have no Xerox,” she said with a smile.
“Perhaps Ambrosio will write the list down for you?” she said,
looking to the man.

He looked me over from head to foot.
“You may stop by for it tomorrow.”

I knew there would never be a list if
I depended on them. “Don’t trouble yourself,” I said, taking the
clipboard from her hand. “I got it.”

She looked astonished and gazed at the
man she’d called Ambrosio.

I grabbed a sheet of paper off the
counter and jotted down the room numbers of the Hamletville
citizens.

“
We didn’t get your name,”
Ambrosio told me, coming around from behind the counter to stand in
front of me.

I smiled, handed Matilda her
clipboard, and set the pen down. “No, you didn’t,” I said and
walked away.

As I left, I heard them murmuring
between one another.

I was there, but I didn’t have to like
it.

Chapter 24

It turned out that room 415 was a
bridal suite; there was a plaque on the door. I set down the bags
and looked the space over. It was beautiful. Someone had lit a
number of candles, filling the space with a soft, romantic glow. A
large poster bed was draped with gauzy white cloth. The bed was
covered in a light purple satin coverlet. The ornate Victorian
furniture was romantic. A settee piled with pillows looked out at
the lake. The moonlight was reflecting on the pitching
waves.

For a moment, I pretended. I pretended
the world had not fallen apart. I pretended that the undead were
not walking around. I pretended that earth spirits were not talking
to me. I pretended I’d come home from D.C. on vacation and had
fallen in love with Jamie. I pretended we had gotten married and
that my grandmother had smiled benevolently on me, me dressed in
white, as Jamie and I married in a Russian Orthodox ceremony. I
pretended that Jamie had brought me here as a honeymoon surprise. I
played pretend, just for a moment, and then I was done. It did not
do to play pretend.

I went then to the window and checked
the lock. It was bolted loosely from the inside. I removed the
ornate tie-backs from the window and laced them around the window
locks. I then checked the room for any other entrances. The only
other way to get in was the front door. I dragged the writing desk
from one side of the room and jammed the door handle, barricading
the door.

I pulled the curtains shut and then
unrolled my weapons bundle. I stood looking down on them,
considering what to do next. I checked the cartridge on the Glock
and stuffed it into the holster. I reloaded the Magnum and did the
same. There was a small ammo pouch on the holster, inside I stuffed
the holy water inside—just in case. I also stuffed Jamie’s water
gun, still loaded, into a pocket. I adjusted the shashka scabbard
to bandolier style and threaded the throwing daggers onto a belt.
From my boots I pulled out the doe and wolf poyasni. I slid each
across the small whet stone I carried in the weapon roll and then
stuffed them back into my boots.

A short while later there was a knock
on the door.

I leaned against the door, sword
drawn, and looked through the key-hole.

“
Layla?” Jamie
called.

I moved the desk and opened the
door.

“
I would have just come
in, but I didn’t want you to shoot me.”

“
I had the door barricaded
anyway,” I said, motioning to the desk.

He laughed. “I heard.” He then looked
around the room, at least the parts of it I had not dismantled.
“Wow. This is really something.”

“
Well, it is the bridal
suite.”

Jamie look embarrassed. “Look, I’m not
trying to, you know, force any issue. I just wanted you safe—with
me. That’s all.”

I laid my sword on the bed and wrapped
my hands around his neck. I pulled him into a deep kiss, my hand
sliding across his back and shoulders, fingers toying with the hair
at the base of his neck. He held me tightly, pressing my body
against him. I could feel the heat rising between us.

Again, there was a knock on the
door.

We broke apart, both of us breathing
heavily.

Jamie regained his composure and
answered the door. I picked up the shashka.

“
Alright,” he said to
whoever was on the other side, “okay, thank you,” he added and then
closed the door. “We’re invited for a night-cap in an hour. The
hosts want to welcome us,” he said.

“
The hosts, eh?” I looked
back at my weapons. “How is Ian?”

“
They got him settled in
and the doctor was by to take some blood. He said they are going to
do as many tests as they can. Mrs. Finch was by and told them what
she’d already seen. Ian was really tired and wanted to sleep so I
left him be.”

“
What about the doctor?
How did he seem?”

“
Normal. He is from a
research hospital in Ohio.”

“
I don’t like leaving Ian
alone,” I said.

“
Me either. This whole
thing is—I don’t know what it is. I mean, I saw those shadows
too.”

“
There are other strange
things out there as well; I’ve seen spirits, earth spirits,
ancestral spirits, I don’t know what, exactly.”

Jamie raised his eyebrows at me in
surprise.

“
I think my grandma was
right. She always said that we are not alone in this world. We
humans, we are not the only creatures on this plane. Now than
humankind is not creating so much noise, maybe those other things
in this world are more apparent.”

Jamie looked thoughtful. “And what the
hell are these people?”

I pulled out the squirt gun Jamie had
given me. It had seemed a funny gift at the time. We both looked at
it.

“
The holy water,” Jamie
said considering.

I nodded.

Jamie took the little yellow and blue
plastic gun and looked at it; his forehead furrowed.

“
What are you thinking?” I
asked.

“
Well, Grandma Petrovich
got all those guns and everything, right? You used all that stuff
to protect us. And she also got holy water.”

I waited.

“
Well, it’s obvious, isn’t
it? Every movie, T.V. show, comic book, video game—there is only
one thing that you can kill with holy water,” Jamie
said.

And in the moment, it was
obvious.

“
Vampires?” I
whispered.

He nodded.

“
But these people seem . .
. like I don’t know what. They aren’t like the classic or romantic
stories you hear. There is something awkward about them. Do you
know what I mean? I’m not afraid, I just . . . ”

“
. . . just don’t want to
deal with their shit? Well, we’ve spent the last half year being
chased by the undead. Maybe it has numbed us.”

I shrugged. “What is this world we’re
living in?”

“
And what do they want
from us?” Jamie replied.

Indeed, what did they want?

Chapter 25

“
Bloody hell,” Jeff
exclaimed as we stood in front of more food than any of us had seen
in the last six months. A massive buffet of gourmet looking treats
was spread out before us on a long table illuminated by candles.
Already many of the other guests and the Hamletville townspeople
were munching on hors d’oeuvres. We had been called to the massive
ballroom of the hotel. It was beautiful. The carpet had a brocade
design with dark blue and gold flowers. The recessed ceiling was
painted with celestial images. The wallpaper was deep blue and had
spiraling silver stars inlaid. The massive chandeliers overhead
twinkled beautifully. The room was arranged comfortably with small
groupings of chairs and tables; they all faced a row of seats at
the front.

Jamie looked hungrily at the food, but
I held him back.

“
Why?” he
whispered.

“
Did you have Mrs. May for
12
^th
grade English?” I asked him.

He looked confused. “Yes.”

“
Did she make you
read
The Odyssey
?”

“
I think so.”

“
There is the story,
right, where Odysseus and his men are shipwrecked on the island
with the Lotus Eaters.”

“
Ah, yeah, I remember now.
They eat lotus flowers all day long and forget home. They feel
pleasure but forget everything else.”

“
You got it,” I
replied.

“
But what are we going to
do, fish?”

“
I brought
MRE’s.”

Jamie cringed.

“
Sorry.”

“
The undead I can handle,
but I am not sure I can take another MRE.”

I smiled, taking glasses of wine for
him and myself from a serving tray. “Try to look happy,” I replied,
“but don’t drink.”

“
This is getting worse by
the second,” Jamie grumbled.

After we’d been there for just a short
while, a strikingly beautiful blonde woman in an all-black jumper
rang a small bell. “Everyone, please take a seat,” she called
sweetly, her crystalline eyes shining in the glimmering lamplight.
I noticed, just for a second, a familiar lilt in her
voice.

Jamie and I sat. Pastor Frank, Jeff,
Summer, and Ethel sat nearest us. I noticed Frenchie was not there,
and I worried. I hoped she’d played it safe and just put the girls
to bed. I was surprised, however, by the number of people who were
there. There were at least 75 people in the room. In that moment it
seemed to me there were three groups of people there: humans,
unusual looking hotel staff, and those we suspected were vampires.
I eyed the hotel staff closely. Their skin was rosy and full, but
there was a strange aura about them. They seemed more beautiful,
more luminescent than the rest of us, like they all had just had a
great massage and facial. They intermixed freely with the vampires,
not seeming the slightest bit nervous.

A few moments later, a strikingly
beautiful woman in a silver sequin gown entered the room. She had
waist length black hair which curled over her shoulders and down
her back. Her face, though perhaps a bit past its prime, was
amazingly beautiful. She had twinkling blue eyes.

She moved slowly through the crowd,
her entourage circling her. Clearly, she was in charge. She smiled
sweetly, welcoming the other Hamletville residents who rose when
she drew near. I could tell the entire room was captivated by the
woman. I did not blame them; she was beautiful.

When she came near, I heard the accent
in her voice as well. It was Slavic, perhaps Ukrainian or
Belarusian. The lilt was like the same Russian accent I’d grown up
with.