Queen's Gambit

By M. Lorrox

Exhausted after their weekend, a small-town family of vampires heads to DC. They’re greeted by a plot that threatens to blow their world apart and cast it into chaos. The fates of the nation, the Vampire Order, and their family are up in the air.

Eddy meets his heroes—squires his age—and discovers a powerful secret. Sadie navigates the politics of the ancient House of Elders and tries not to kill anyone. Charlie tackles the demands of his new role while dealing with bureaucrats, wage-earners, family drama, and a threat so big that he must once again put his sword to use...

But something has been overlooked; two pieces on the board defy all expectations, and they completely change the game.

Infinite Vampire II: QUEEN’S GAMBIT picks up where BLOOD 4 LIFE drops off and takes the story in a new direction: it’s a pulse-pounding, gut-wrenching, suspenseful thriller.

• Language: English
• Publisher: M. Lorrox
• Release date: Nov 19, 2020
• ISBN: 9781947130050

M. Lorrox

Schmechnically, I’m a human, American, independent author and publisher. I like to say, though, that I’m a weird, sentient blob of independence, stubbornness, and creativity. Also, I like to think that my story is like any good novel; full of mystery, suspense, drama, and comedy. Hopefully my story turns into a fine wine—instead of a stinky cheese. In any case, while I’m writing that book (as slowly as possible), here are some highlights so far:- I was raised in a barn in rural, upstate New York. It was cold. We had a wood-burning furnace that never worked well. I gained an early appreciation for sweaters.In junior high, I tried...and failed, to publish a book about dragon science. I still have the manuscript, and I’ll publish it someday.- In college, I made up some BS, (a self-designed Bachelor of Science degree, to be more specific), then I earned a MFA in story-telling. I learned Northern Shaolin Kung Fu and taught it for a while.- After college, I discovered I had problems with authority... And conformity... And bigotry... And misogyny... And etc., etc., etc. I tried to make small changes while still fitting in, then I gave up on fitting in altogether, and I started flipping tables like no tomorrow.- I bought a motorcycle and crashed it. Then I fixed it and kept riding. Hey, want to harden your nerves? Spend a couple years riding 25 miles a day, rain or shine, on Route 66 and the 495 Beltway of DC in rush hour. You’ll either be dead or a badass.- After gaining badass status, I wanted to postpone putting that last update on a gravestone, so I decided to move out of the busy DC area. Instead of renewing the lease on my apartment, I signed up for an awesome gym membership, moved my stuff into storage, and squatted in a DC warehouse for a few months. I worked out and showered daily at the gym, which required me to carry various bags around. Homeless people on my routes thought I was also homeless, and they would offer me advice. I always thanked them.- After six months of squatting shenanigans, I decided to push my luck in DC, and I signed a lease for an affordable apartment on the top floor of a building. The roof collapsed on me on Valentine’s Day. I took a selfie with the rubble on my head; I was pissed.- I now live in Durham, North Carolina, in a nice, warm house, under a brand-new roof that shouldn’t collapse, with my polyamorous family, our dogs, and our streaming services. I get plenty of exercise while fixing up my home, and when I’m not wearing my tool-belt, I enjoy riding my motorcycle to local coffee shops, very safely. Most importantly, though, I continue flipping tables like no tomorrow!If you’re active on social media, search for @MLorrox and you just might find me. I’d love to say hi!

Book preview

Thinking of all the people who push their limits.

It’s hard work. Good Job!

Gotta raise a little hell.

-Dorothy

"Chess is ruthless:

you’ve got to be prepared to kill people."

-Nigel Short (b. 1965)

Early on Monday morning, a man in a long coat and hat steps out from the back of a car. As he walks, the sun’s wake-up stretch casts a fifty-foot shadow down the sidewalk. Ten paces and he is out of the light and into an alleyway. On the next breath, he coughs. He’s here.

Halfway across the alley, where the backs of the buildings meet, he sees a puff of smoke coming from a cracked-open door. Blackjack?

The door opens. Exeller, right on time. A man in a hotel uniform raises his eyebrows while he takes another drag from his cigarette.

Of course I’m on time, you piece of horseshit. It’s going to happen this week, be prepared to move ASAP.

Blackjack exhales smoke to the side, then motions with his chin. Take off your shades. I like to see who I’m dealing with.

Ha, you have no idea. Understandable. Exeller slides down his dark sunglasses and peers over them. Happy?

Not freak-green. Sounds like I will be, later this week.

Exeller slides his sunglasses back on and reaches into his pocket. Take this cell, it’s prepaid and unused. He holds open a plastic bag.

Blackjack takes the phone from inside.

Keep it charged and on you at all times. I’ll be in touch with specifics when I have them.

Blackjack slips the phone into his pocket. We still need one part, don’t forget. You told me—

Exeller leans in and growls through his teeth. "I know damn well what I told you and I will deliver it in time. You just take care of your part and be ready. I’m putting a lot of trust in you, BJ, and I hope for your sake that you hold up your end of the deal." His lip quivers as he shifts his weight back.

Blackjack nods. I got it alright? Don’t forget who the enemy is—we can do this.

Exeller grabs him by the shoulders. There is no ‘we,’ no you-and-me, no nothing. You got that?

Jesus, calm the fuck down. I got it, now let go of my suit, you’re wrinkling the shit out of it.

Exeller exhales and releases him. Be ready. Best guess is Thursday evening, but I’ll verify. It could be earlier.

I’m going to have to steam this after work. He scowls at his shoulder then looks back up at Exeller. Yeah, just get me what I need, and let me know when it’s time.

Exeller turns and walks back the way he came.

Blackjack watches him leave. What a psycho... But it doesn’t matter. We’re gonna make those bloodsuckers bleed.

Charlie’s phone starts blowing up in his pocket. He checks to see who it is. That could be about a variety of things. He doesn’t answer. After a minute, it rings and he checks again. That can only be about one thing... He turns his phone off, takes a deep breath, and looks out the Jeep’s windshield at a large sign on the side of the highway. Welcome to Virginia. Virginia is for lovers. That’s cute.

Sadie glances at him. What the sign? I think it’s kind of weird. Who’s calling you?

The sheriff’s office and the fire department. Our house is probably ashes by now.

She frowns. That’s too bad. I liked that house.

Yeah. Me too. He imagines the walls engulfed in flames and the roof collapsing, but only for a moment. He turns around to check on Minnie. The little golden-haired girl strangles Valentine in a headlock while she sleeps. She’s still a little red. Better though.

I know. Poor thing. We’ll be extra careful for a while.

Like a couple years. The age she’s at is the worst. I hate it. He stretches and wipes his eyes. Damn. I’m so tired.

Me too.

Charlie sighs. Zombies. How the hell did this even happen? It’s so absurd. He sits up and turns toward his wife, communicating with his hands as much as his words. This is fucking bullshit. I didn’t live four hundred years just to have fairy tale monsters ruin the world.

Fairy tale monsters?

He nods. Yeah, you know, from the Brothers Grimm.

Sadie turns toward him and squints for a second.

You know, that story about the kid who wanted to learn what fear was, so he hung out in a castle and a dead body reanimated and tried to kill him. I think that was the first zombie... And you know what? I wish that’s all zombies were—just scary, made-up stories. Imaginary.

Sadie grins. You never cease to amaze me. Do you think humans wish that vampires were just imaginary?

Charlie scowls. What? They don’t know about us.

Actually, lots do. There’s one following us right now. She glances in the rearview mirror to Skip’s truck.

That’s different. He leans his seat back.

Sadie side-nods. Well, it’s different with him and the others we’ve told, but I mean the rest of the people that know. For example, the bastard that just burned down our house.

Well… I mean, we’ve coexisted with them for millennia. Their and our history is intertwined. They can’t just wish we didn’t exist.

She shrugs and yawns. Just saying. She notices the sign for the Virginia Welcome Center. Oh, here. She lifts her phone from the dash. Text Mary, will you? She knows we’re coming, but tell her we’ve crossed into Virginia.

Alright. When we come to a rest stop let’s pull over for a bit. I could use a little break.

We literally just passed the welcome center. It might be a while before another stop.

He groans as he texts Mary. I hate road-trips.

She reaches over and takes his other hand in hers. Charlie, don’t say it…

He hits send, closes his eyes, and rubs her hand. Are we there yet?

She chuckles. Yup, feel free to hop out at any moment.

Mary Wollstone steps out of a meeting at the Pentagon and heads down the hall to find a bathroom. Even though she’s a High Counselor in the House of Elders—making her one of the eight most powerful vampires in the world—she’s still not supposed to use her cell phone inside the building. She reaches into her purse for her phone as she steps into the bathroom, but she withdraws her hand without it.

In the bathroom, someone is washing their hands. Mary has no intention of hiding in a stall to use her phone, so she steps up to a sink and mirror and pretends to care about her appearance. She adjusts her shoulder-length brown hair, then checks her immaculate teeth as the other person leaves.

Mary bends and scans for feet below the stalls, then pulls out her phone. She sees the text from Sadie and smiles. They must have left very early, I wonder why. She sends a text, puts her phone away, then exits into the hall and heads back toward the meeting room.

Prime Minister Hamid ibn al Zaman steps into the hall, and Mary rushes to reach him. Sir, I’m afraid I won’t be able to make the three o’clock presentation.

Hamid turns and tilts his head down to look at the shorter woman. His crisp, bright eyes peek out from his dark, furrowed brow. No? Something has come up?

It has. Sadie Costanza will be arriving this afternoon, and I am going to welcome her.

His harsh facade fades, and a smile reveals a full set of cream-colored teeth. Ah, that is good news. He leans over, closing the distance to Mary. Sadie is an important voice, wise and firm. She is a powerful ally.

And a good friend.

Very well. Collect a briefing from Vincent afterward.

I will, sir. Mary turns to make her way toward a stairwell near the courtyard, but her way is blocked. A large group of military and civilian officials is passing by.

A woman in an Air Force uniform shakes her head. Why can’t the protesters understand that we’re doing all we can?

A suited man responds, "They’re annoying, but I don’t think they’re unreasonable. Lots of people have loved ones living near The Line, or they had."

The group passes, and Mary sighs as she crosses the wide corridor to the stairs. The way things are headed, all of this is merely a distraction.

Skip follows Sadie’s Jeep in his pickup. His arm rests across June when it’s free; she’s curled up under a little throw blanket with her head leaning against his chest. He occasionally rubs his hand along the blanket, feeling her presence under the soft fleece. She’s still there.

Eddy naps through the music playing through his earbuds. His head rests against the window, leaving a little smudge from the oils in his skin. Skip crosses a seam in the pavement and can’t avoid a patchwork of potholes. The cab bounces around, and Eddy’s head raps against the glass.

He wakes up, squints his eyes at the flashes of late-morning sun poking through the treetops, and yawns. He listens to the song for a moment, "…Oh hell yeah—Somebody gotta, gotta raise a little hell…" He pauses the music and pulls out his earbuds. Jeez I’m tired.

Skip nods with the pace of a man who hasn’t slept, who almost lost the most important thing in his world, and who packed up his and his daughter’s whole life overnight. Me too, it’ll be nice to get to the hotel.

Eddy leans over June to check their progress on the GPS. Another three hours?

Skip sighs. How are you feeling?

Eddy adjusts himself in the seat. It’s cramped. He stretches a little. Good, I guess… Out of it though.

Me too. Skip rubs his thumb against the blanket over June’s hip. Could you help me understand something about vampires?

Eddy rejuvenates some. Sure, shoot.

Skip starts to say something, but then he stops. I, uh, I don’t even know.

Eddy purses his lips in a humble smile. Well, it’s a lot less crazy than it may seem.

Really? It seems pretty damn crazy to me.

Eddy shrugs. Vampires are people, but we’re just different.

"Different like drinking blood and healing quickly and transmitting—vampire-ness—to others through their blood."

Yup.

Skip waits for more, but he doesn’t get any. He sighs. Well Eddy, what else is different? June’s going to need to know, and I want to know so I can help her.

He looks pissed. Sorry, um… Well, she’ll have to drink blood so that she can get hemoglobin. That’s what our bodies don’t make right, and when she does drink blood regularly, her body will ramp up its functions—she’ll be stronger and faster than a normal person. Oh, and I guess the other important thing is to limit sun exposure. Because our bodies heal so fast, damaged DNA can get replicated before...uh...a-top, no. A-pop—

APOPTOSIS. Automated cell death.

Eddy nods. Yeah, that. He stares out the window and takes a nervous inhale.

Sure. She’ll just stay out of the sun. A blast of light cuts through the trees and into Skip’s eyes. He squints, then groans. "Yeah, that’s not a big deal—it’s easy. It’s not like it’s a party of daily life or anything."

Eddy swallows. He’s mad at me… Well, uh, it’s not that bad, it’s just a thing to keep tabs on, that’s all.

Skip sighs. In sunlight, how often will she need blood?

Eddy rubs his hands down his thighs. I mean, she should try to stay in the shade.

Eddy, goddamn it, just answer me!

He clears his throat. Before going out, she’d need to drink some, and then, to be safest, more every twenty to thirty minutes.

Skip stares out his windshield. And if she doesn’t?

Eddy quivers. Best case—

Skip speaks through gritted teeth, WORST CASE.

Oh my god… Okay, worst case. He takes the deepest breath possible and talks at twice his normal speed, Sunburn after a minute, sun poisoning in fifteen, and death as fast as a half hour.

Skip squeezes the steering wheel so hard that his fingers turn white and his wrists crack.

Eddy sucks in and bites his bottom lip; every additional second in silence exponentially builds his anxiety. He twists to face Skip. Are you mad at me? I’m really sorry I got everyone involved, and now June, uh—

June WHAT?

Eddy swallows, and he starts to shake. Her life is going to change because of me. I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry, Skip.

You messed up. Now, what are you going to do about it?

What do you mean?

You FUCKED UP, Eddy. June got hurt. And now— He shakes his head and hits the steering wheel with the bottom of his fist. She could fucking DIE, just by going outside.

I wish I could undo it, I really do!

You can’t! I can’t either, nobody can. Skip sneers. So, what are we going to do now, hmm? How are we going to help her? She’s going to need it. He glances at Eddy.

Eddy is shaking, his hands are gripping into his legs by his knees, and he’s taking fast, shallow breaths.

Oh, hell... "Eddy, I know that you didn’t mean for anything about last night to happen. I know you’d never want to hurt June. I know that. He sighs. I don’t blame you. Okay?"

Eddy holds his eyes as he cries.

Skip thinks while the silence in the cab is permeated only by Eddy’s crying sounds. Skip rubs his eyes again. Eddy, I need your help. I— He clears his throat, steels his emotions, then reaches over and squeezes June through the blanket. With his movement, a bit of her black hair is brushed onto the blanket, shining in the light. I’m all she has—she’s all I have. I don’t know what to do. I don’t understand what’s happening, and I’m going to need some help.

Eddy focuses on his breath; he slows it, then grows it deeper, calming himself. He wipes his face. I swear I’ll do everything I can, and so will my family. He reaches his hand out and puts it on Skip’s arm. You, and June, have all of us too, now. She’ll get through this—we all will.

After a half hour, Sadie signals and veers onto the ramp for a rest stop. Skip almost doesn’t notice the emptiness of the lane in front of him, but at the last moment he finds Sadie’s Jeep on the ramp and quickly makes the exit.

To busy himself, Eddy made a new playlist on his phone called DEATH BY AWKWARD, and now, he closes out of the app. Finally. He peeks at Skip, who doesn’t respond. He clears his throat. Uh, are you feeling alright?

Skip shakes his head. My stomach is acting up on me; combination of nerves, too much coffee, and too little sleep. He takes another sip from a water bottle and follows the Jeep through the parking lot. Sadie pulls into a spot in the shade of a large oak, and he parks beside her.

Eddy returns his phone to his pocket, then reaches into a lunch-sized cooler near his feet. Inside, there are a few pints of dog blood Skip stole from the vet, and a bottle of V . He grabs the bottle. Has June woken up, or even moved yet?

Skip clears some hair away from her face. Her eyes are closed, and she breathes warmly against his hand. He gets lost for a moment looking at her; his now vampire, but very alive, daughter. Thank god.

That’s a no?

She’s still asleep.

Eddy takes a drink from the bottle. When she wakes up, she’ll be very weak, and probably really hungry. She’ll need blood. Eddy waits a moment for Skip to respond, but when he doesn’t, Eddy continues. And remember: she’ll need to drink blood or a blood substitute every time she heads out into sunlight.

Skip pets June’s hair. Trust me: I got that part.

-knock, knock- Sadie raps a knuckle on the pickup’s passenger window. Hey, how’s it going in there?

Eddy opens his door, grabs the bag he brought along—Sophia’s leather bag that he cleaned the zombie goo from before leaving—and steps out. Hi Mom… Just reminding Skip about June and sunlight.

Sadie puts her hand on his shoulder. Good, good. That’s crucial.

Yup.

Skip gets out and yawns. I don’t think I’ve gone without a night’s sleep in at least ten years.

Charlie makes his way around the back of the Jeep. He holds a restless Minnie in one arm. I can take over and drive your truck if you want a break.

Maybe.

Sadie motions to the rest stop. We’re going to grab a bite. If you want, you could rest for a bit, and we could grab something for you.

Skip yawns again. Thanks. I’ll eat whatever. He opens his door and slides back inside.

Charlie opens an umbrella to shade Minnie. All set, let’s go. He starts walking through the lot. I hope they have pizza.

Sadie puts her arm around Eddy as they follow behind. Or a healthy salad; you’d like that too. Right, hon?

Salad? No. Pizza. You don’t make friends with salad.

Mary’s driver pulls up in front of her hotel. Here you are, ma’am.

She glances up. They’re not under the awning; a large passenger-van blocks the way. She sighs. Alright, thank you. She gets out and walks toward the door. She can feel the warmth of the sun on her skin, and although she hasn’t had blood in a few hours, the sensation makes her smile.

Rod, the bellman, returns her smile and opens the door. Good day, ma’am.

So far, so good.

In a flash of heat and pain, June opens her eyes.

She’s confused, and for a moment, she doesn’t move. I’m in the truck. Dad’s here. Where are we? She sits up and immediately regrets it. A deep, dull ache interspliced with static-shocks of pain saturate her brain. The pressure and discomfort is dizzying. She breathes and turns to her dad.

He’s asleep. His arm dropped from her when she sat up, but it didn’t rouse him. June looks out the windows and sees the rest stop, then she sees Sadie’s empty Jeep parked next to them. Where is everybody? She turns back toward her dad. Maybe I should let him rest. Suddenly her insides feel like two spikes were driven through her guts and are being wrenched and twisted apart. She winces and folds forward, closes her eyes, and tries to breathe.

The pain fades away for only a moment, and then it returns. She opens the pickup’s passenger door and steps outside. She closes it as quietly as she can, then doubles over with her hands on her knees. Damn this hurts…

June takes a few more breaths and steadies herself. She walks into the shade in front of the trucks, and as another pang tears through her, she reaches out and leans on the tree’s thick trunk. Whoa, I gotta lay down. There’s a welcoming flat and grassy area nearby. She walks over to it and lays down on the soft grass under the midday sun. The pleasant warmth from the light on her face and arms soothes her, and she stares off into the blue sky.

The Costanzas sit in the tree line’s shade at the edge of the rest stop’s wide lawn. It’s far enough from the noisy people and smelly cars that they can relax and enjoy their meal. Eddy eats a slice of pizza while he leans his back against a tree. As he takes another bite, he hears something above him, and he snaps his head upward—a string of cheese drapes across his chin. A squirrel on a branch fifteen feet above stares down at him.

The rest of the family sits and eats at a picnic table.

Eddy takes another bite, then sets his to-go pizza container on the ground. Earlier, he placed his V bottle inside Sophia’s leather bag, and as he reaches for his drink, he pauses. I guess this bag is mine now. She would have wanted me to have it—to save it and use it. I can’t believe she’s gone...

He remembers the way she pleaded for him to join the hunt, the way her hand felt on his when she gave him the blood-bead bracelet, the way her head bounced after the shotgun blast ripped her skull apart.

He closes his eyes while he takes a calming breath. He lifts the bag and inspects it again. The leather is thick and well broken in, and lashed to the side is the bowie knife’s sheath. He opens the bag and pulls out the bottle, and something slides out with it.

The velvet pouch.

He takes a sip then picks up the pouch. The velvet is thick and soft in his fingers. Inside is something hard and odd shaped. He opens and upends the pouch, and an old ring falls into his other hand.

When he turns it over to see the top, he gasps. The symbol!

Instead of a stone on the heavy, warm and worn ring, carved onto its face is the Infinite Vampire symbol. The iconic ouroboros snake, wrapped around a V in the shape of the infinity symbol. Eddy holds the ring up to examine it.

The signet area with the carving is about the size of a dime, and it has a twisted rope pattern along its rimmed edge. The entire ring—symbol, ropes, and band—appears to be hand carved from reddish gold. Eddy flips the ring over to study the inside of the band. Something is written there in an ancient script.

Eddy can’t read the language its written in, but he’s seen those symbols before, and he knows what they translate to. WHAT?

Along the inside of the band, carved in Sumerian symbols from one side of the signet to the other, is the customary greeting, response, message, and motto of all vampires: Life in the blood—death in the blood.

Eddy tries to put the ring on. It fits the middle finger of his left hand snugly. He holds his hand up, rotates it, makes a fist, and checks out how it looks on him. This is so cool.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees something gray nearby. Hey! Get out of here! Eddy swipes above the squirrel’s head, hoping to scare it away from his food.

The squirrel is a rest stop food-snatching pro, and it isn’t fazed by the near miss. It does scurry away, but it takes the half-eaten pizza slice with it, dragging the prize with its mouth.

No!

Charlie turns to him. What is it?

Eddy points to the squirrel. This stupid rat stole my pizza!

Minnie squeals with joy, and Sadie laughs. Well, Eddy, you better go get it!

Eddy watches the squirrel drag the pizza along the dirt and up a nearby tree, backward. Eddy sighs and smiles. Actually, I’m not even mad; I’m kinda impressed.

Charlie laughs.

Eddy slings the leather bag across his shoulder and stands. I’m going to get another slice.

Sadie frowns. Make it quick. We have to get back on the road soon.

Eddy nods as he walks away. After a moment, he feels the heavy ring on his hand. He takes it off and replaces it into the pouch. I wonder why she had this with her.

Back at the picnic table, Minnie’s eyes flash wide. Mommy?

Yes dear?

Can I give the rest of my sandwich to the squirrel?

She laughs. No dear, it’s your sandwich. Eat it.

But he’s hungry.

The squirrels have plenty to eat, and besides, you’ll be hungry if you don’t finish it.

Okay, fine. Maybe if I don’t finish in time, then I can give him the rest!

Minnie takes the tiniest bite from the sandwich.

A car with a loud muffler drives by and rouses Skip from his nap. He doesn’t open his eyes; he only shifts his body. He’s cramped, and his legs are stiff. He moves his arm and doesn’t feel June beside him. His eyes shoot open, and he learns he’s alone in the truck. He glances at Sadie’s Jeep. Empty.

He sits up and looks out his windshield, first toward the shade under the tree, and then he sees his daughter laying out beyond it in the sun.

June! He rushes out of the truck and sprints over to her.

She hears the pickup’s door shutting and opens her eyes, squinting into the light. I’m over here.

Skip leaps and slides on his knees to her side, shading her with his body. You have to get out of the sun! He rips off the t-shirt that he put on hundreds of miles and a half dozen hours ago and spreads it over her face.

June flails her arms up. Dad, stop it!

You burn extra fast now, June, you can’t go into the sun without protection, not even for a second.

Oh. She sits up in a flash and almost knocks Skip over.

His eyes are wide, and the tiniest little droplets of sweat are forming on his temples. He rushes to spread the shirt out in the air above her. He stares into her eyes. They’re mostly bright green, but they have streams of silver that collect together like tributaries and flow into a ring outside the pupil. They used to be brown, like Monica’s. Now they’re...vampire eyes?

June breathes slowly. Dad, I feel really awful.

Let’s get into the shade. He drops the shirt onto her and brings her arms up to his chest. Stand up, sweetheart.

As she stands, he presses her arms against his chest, blocking the light from her. He holds her close as he walks her into the shade. He sets her beside the tree, leaning her back against the trunk.

She pulls her knees to her chest and pulls Skip’s shirt off her head. She winces. Dad, there’s something wrong, everything hurts: my head, my stomach, ugh... She leans forward and catches her head with her hands.

Skip crouches next to her. No, no, no! I’m not losing you! June, listen to me, okay? You need to drink some blood.

She musters the strength to look at him and shake her head.

You have to, June!

She squints and blinks and shakes her head again. My eyes are being weird. Another shockwave of pain rockets through her. Ah! My god, what’s happening to me?

Skip runs to the truck, yelling behind him, June, you might be dying; you need to drink it! He opens the passenger door, rips the cooler out, then runs back to his daughter. It’s the only way!

She watches him run toward her in a haze and blur. I think I’m going to pass out.

No you’re not! Stay with me! He grabs a pint of dog blood and lets the cooler drop to the ground. He drops to his knees, pokes a hole in the bag with his keys, and spills some blood onto his pants. June, open your mouth; you’re going to drink this. He holds the bag near her face.

She watches the bag drip thick blood down the side of his hand. That’s so gross. She brings her eyes up to her dad’s. I can’t. I—

Her eyelids droop, and her head starts to fall.

Skip catches her head by the hair and pulls it back. Her bottom lip hangs open a mere fraction of an inch, and Skip points the hole in the bag toward her mouth and squeezes hard. The blood spurts out at an angle, sending one stream out and onto his chest, and another stream to the side and into her hair.

He repositions the bag and squeezes again. This time the blood hits its mark and trickles into her mouth. Some blood went down the wrong pipe, and she autonomously coughs and spasms her head, then she swallows some of the blood.

Skip adjusts her head as he opens her mouth with the bag, sticking the edge of it between her teeth. He squeezes it, the blood flows in, and she swallows.

After a few sips, she opens her eyes and blinks a few times. She grabs the bag with her hands and bites into it, tearing it open. She pours the blood into her mouth and gulps it down.

Skip collapses beside her. He drops his arms and his eyes to the ground. He sees his blood-covered hands resting on his thighs. His chest has a streak of blood sprayed across it, and his pants have collected rogue drips and spills. He slowly lifts his head to see June.

Blood runs down the side of her mouth and down her chin. Her hair is matted from where he grabbed it and from where the blood hit it, and she clutches the bag up to her mouth like it was caught prey—preventing any escape.

When she sucks all the blood out and flattens the bag, she tosses it to the ground by her side. Without looking up, she holds her hand out toward her dad. More please.

Skip grabs another pint from the little cooler. He pauses while he hunts for his keys to poke a hole in the bag; he dropped them on the ground after he poked the other hole.

June snatches the bag from his hand and bites into it with her canine teeth. It spurts blood out the side of her mouth until she squeezes her lips onto it. A spoonful of blood escapes, and it plops onto her jeans.

Skip finds his keys and leans against the tree next to June. He pulls his knees up to his chest, like her, and drops his head between them. I’m glad you’re alright June. I love you so much.

June tosses the second bag onto the other empty one, then starts sobbing.

Skip bounces and twists onto a knee, facing June. What’s wrong?

Her tears rewet the blood on her face. "I’m not me anymore. I’m drinking blood! What kind of monster am I?"

Skip pets her head and smooths the mashed hair. You’re not a monster. You’re my daughter, and you’re alive, you just— don’t say gross, —you just have a different sort of appetite now, I guess. He scoots away from the tree and sits facing her. I’ve been thinking about it; tons of cultures drink cow or other animal blood as a custom. Maybe it’s just scary because it’s new to you.

June calms and finds her dad’s eyes. People really drink blood?

Skip nods. Yes, and they have for thousands of years.

June imagines hairy cavemen and women in a dark and dank cave, drinking blood out of bowls made from skulls by a pitiful campfire.

Somehow it doesn’t reassure her, and she starts crying again.

Skip can’t help but cry with her. He wipes his eyes and sees the empty bags of blood. He picks one up. There’s a few drops stuck in one corner. Through the bag, he works them into a miniscule pool with his fingers. June, I’ll drink some too. It’s perfectly acceptable for people to do it; it’s just uncommon.

She shakes her head. Dad, you don’t have to do that.

Shush. Dirt sticks to the opening June drank from, so instead of using that opening, he decides to just bite a new hole on the other end, where the blood is. He forces a smile as holds the bag up in the air like a bottle of beer. Cheers. He bites and yanks at the bag, and sucks in the blood. He swallows it. Oh. That wasn’t so bad. He smiles. See, just like if you cut your lip. Same thing.

June buries her head. Except it’s not your own blood; it’s blood from someone else.

Skip tilts his head and frowns, then he inspects the bag. It’s labeled with a code and an icon of a dog, but there aren’t any words. He puts his hand on her knee. June, this isn’t human blood; it’s from the vets. This is donated canine blood.

She sniffs. It’s not from people?

I swear, it’s from a dog.

She takes a deep breath. Somehow that seems better.

Skip nods. How are you feeling?

Better, but…do you have any more?

As the Costanzas return to the vehicles, they can hear Skip and June talking.

Eddy’s pace quickens. June’s up.

Charlie puts his free hand on Eddy’s shoulder, slowing him back down. You might want to ride with us for a while. Let those two talk.

Eddy purses his lips, then nods. That’s probably a good idea.

Charlie winks at him.

They come around and see the pickup’s passenger door open, the cooler on the ground, and the two sitting in the shade. Sadie shoots Charlie a concerned glance. I’ll help Minnie into the Jeep. She grabs the umbrella as Charlie transfers Minnie into her arms.

Eddy notices that Skip took his shirt off. That’s...odd.

Charlie notices too, and he starts to jog the rest of the way. When he reaches the oak tree’s shade, he can’t help but slow and laugh. You have got to be kidding me.

Skip twists to face him. What?

What do you mean ‘what?’ You two are a mess! You’ve got blood, literally everywhere!

June raises a bloody hand to wave. Hi guys.

Skip stands.

Eddy laughs too. Yeah, you just have to drink it, not bathe in it.

Skip takes a step toward them. He looks furious. She got out of the truck when I was asleep and went in the sun.

Charlie’s smile crumbles. WHAT? For how long? June, do you feel burnt? Her skin doesn’t look red, but maybe it doesn’t show because she’s Aniyunwiya?

June plants her hand down on the ground and stands up. It couldn’t have been more than ten or fifteen minutes.

Eddy steps toward her. But you drank some blood from the cooler first, right?

June shakes her head. No, my stomach and head were killing me, so I got out and laid down.

Skip picks up his shirt from the ground. In the sun.

Eddy turns and runs to the Jeep. Mom!

Charlie takes a step toward June. You should lie down. You’re probably going to have to take a blood bath to heal your skin. Hopefully you didn’t get too badly burnt. I think this is going to be alright. He turns to Skip. I’m sorry bud. We should have stayed. Skip drops his eyes to the ground.

June brings one hand to her hip and motions with the other. Guys, I’m not burnt.

Sadie comes rushing over and places her hands on June’s shoulders. Oh, my dear, it’ll be alright, we have to get you undressed, boys, disappear. Skip, get the rest of the blood from the back of the Jeep.

June pulls herself from Sadie’s grasp. I’m fine, I’m not burnt, what’s the big deal?

Sadie turns to Charlie. I’m confused. Eddy said she was in the sun for ten or fifteen minutes without drinking any blood.

I was.

They all turn to her.

Charlie walks over to her and holds her at the shoulders. You were laying in the sun, for that long, just now?

June throws her hands up. Yes. That’s what I said.

Charlie lets her go. Will you lift up your sleeve?

She pulls one of her very short sleeves up and over her shoulder.

Charlie turns to Sadie. She’s not even more tanned, or...anything.

Sadie shakes her head. That’s... Charlie, that’s impossible.

I know.

Skip clears his throat. Please someone tell me what’s going on, she was sick and almost passed out, so I rushed and got some blood for her.

Eddy speaks up first. That’s from the turn; she was weak and needed blood.

Charlie breaks eye contact with Sadie and locks them onto Skip. You did good buddy, you did. I’m sorry I laughed, really. But the thing is Skip, June should be seriously sunburned right now—I mean, second degree burns—but she’s not.

Skip puts his shirt on. It sticks to the blood on his chest and smears it. Sooo that’s a good thing, then, right?

Sadie walks over to June and runs a hand through her blood matted hair. It’s a miracle. She smiles at her.

June glances around at everyone staring at her, then she looks at Sadie. What does it mean?

I don’t know dear. I really don’t know. Sadie steps to June’s side and puts her hand on her shoulder. But I don’t think you should worry about it at all; it’s a good thing. Let’s clean you up. Sadie hugs her closely and stage whispers to her, You look like hell.

Everyone heard, and they all laugh, June the hardest. Well, at least I don’t sparkle!

Everyone laughs harder. Then Skip stops laughing. I don’t get it.

He’s being honest. Eddy about dies.

June rolls her eyes. Oh, Dad. She sends him a reassuring smile, and watches him smile back. Somehow, she can tell that he relaxed, just then.

Skip nods his head toward Charlie. We look like B-movie vampires, don’t we?

Ha! Yeah, you better clean up. We’ve got some water and a roll of towels in the Jeep. You two stay out of sight. I’ll be right back. Charlie pivots to walk to the Jeep, then turns back to the group. Eddy, run inside and buy a gallon of water.

Just a second. Eddy walks over to June and touches her arm. I’m glad you’re alright.

She half-smiles back at him. I am. And I’m still mad at you.

Eddy frowns, but before he can speak, Sadie cuts him off. You two can talk later. We’ve got to get back on the road. Eddy, go get more water.

Without a word, he turns and jogs toward the rest stop.

Charlie brings the paper towels and some water bottles from the Jeep over to Skip, who lifts his shirt up and cleans off his chest. Sadie kneels alongside June and starts to clean her clothes. A small pile of discarded pink towels begins to grow.

When June doesn’t need help any longer, Sadie walks past Charlie and catches his eye.

He follows her behind the Jeep.

She turns and speaks very quietly. What the hell is going on?

Charlie shrugs. Did you see her eyes?

Really weird, right?

Definitely. But at least it isn’t blatantly obvious.

Sadie furrows her brow. What isn’t?

Charlie swallows. Lei non è— He glances halfway over his shoulder then back to his wife. He licks his lips and speaks so softly that he barely whispers, Lei non è un vampiro normale.

Sadie whispers back, Ma lei è un vampiro? No?

She better be! He grimaces and glances over his shoulder. Skip and June are preoccupied. He shrugs. I mean, all the other symptoms are, uh, meeting expectations.

Sadie frowns. Except for, you know, that one thing.

Sunlight. Charlie lifts his brow and nods slowly.

Do you think it’s temporary?

How should I know?

Sadie pauses and watches the Tubmans through the Jeep’s windows. Think she’s in danger?

Charlie looks too. Because of the zombie infection?

She nods.

I can’t see her turning zombie. That would have happened hours ago, but it didn’t.

Sadie sees Minnie making faces at her from inside the Jeep. Sadie sticks her tongue out at Minnie and sends her a raspberry. Minnie laughs and shrinks back down into her seat. Sadie turns back to Charlie. What if this is permanent? That could be a big problem.

Or it’s a great thing because she can have a more normal life.

Sadie sighs. Well of course, it’s a miracle for her— She takes a half step closer to Charlie and whispers in his ear, —but imagine if others found out.

Charlie whispers back, "Yeeeaaahh, that would be bad, everybody not under the sun would want to use her like a lab rat."

Sadie pulls away and motions to the Tubmans. We have to tell them.

Charlie hears Eddy’s sneakers slapping the ground as he jogs back. He turns and sees Eddy carrying four water bottles in his arms. Charlie frowns. Didn’t they have a big jug or anything? I mean, that’s a lot of plastic.

Eddy slows. All they had, Pops.

"Don’t call me Pops. Squire."

Eddy smiles. Yes, sir!

Sadie grabs the bottles and sets them on the Jeep’s massive, aftermarket rear bumper. We need to have a talk with Skip and June, come on.

As the Costanzas walk over, Skip is hugging his daughter. He notices them. We’re all cleaned up, thanks guys.

Sadie smiles and nods. Of course. We’re glad to help. Before we get back on the road, though, we need to have a chat.

Sure. What’s up?

Sadie stares at Charlie and waits.

He stares back and realizes he’s just been voluntold to kick it off. Okay, where to start? He clears his throat. Hmm. I guess there’s no good place to start. "We have to keep June’s uniqueness a secret."

June gasps. "What uniqueness?"

Two things specifically. First that you were infected with the zombie virus. That should be kept quiet because it’ll draw attention you don’t want because you have a much bigger secret… It seems that you can go into the sunlight.

She scrunches her face. But, so can all of you. I see you in the sun all the time.

Sadie responds, "That’s true, but we have to drink blood first, otherwise we’d burn, badly. You seem to not have that requirement. It makes you special— Sadie shifts her eyes to Skip. —very special."

Skip begins to comprehend.

Eddy’s brow furrows. Oh yeah, that’d be dangerous.

June tilts her head. What do you mean?

Charlie blocks Eddy from answering with a glance and a wave of his hand. He means that other vampires would want to figure out how you’re able to do it, and they may not be very nice about it.

Skip puts his arm around June’s shoulder.

Charlie steps toward June. "You cannot—must not—ever tell anyone. Do you understand?"

June looks straight into Charlie’s sparkling green eyes for a moment, then she drops her eyes to the ground. She nods.

June, I know! Here. Eddy takes off the blood-bead bracelet and extends it to her. Wear this, and if anyone ever calls you out on being in the sun without drinking blood, you can say you ate one. The beads are made of dehydrated blood.

June takes the bracelet and recognizes it. That girl, Sophia, she gave you this. Right?

Eddy shrinks, then he puts his hand on hers. He closes her palm around the bracelet just like Sophia had done with him. Yes. She was a vampire too, and this bracelet saved my life... She died last night, but this bracelet can protect you, and I want you to wear it. Eddy squeezes her hand. Will you wear it for me? Please?

June nods.

If you ever need blood, just crunch down on a bead. It can keep you safe.

She smiles. Thanks, Eddy.

He smiles back, then returns to his place alongside Charlie.

After a moment, Sadie takes a step to the side so she can see everyone’s faces. We are all going to swear it. We must swear not to tell anyone about June’s ability. Agreed?

Everyone nods.

"Say it. Say I swear."

Each of them repeats the words, and when they’re done, Sadie nods. "We’ve always been close, but now, Skip and June, I’d like you to consider us part of your family. We’re all