Friday, January 10, 2014

Double Down Double Dead

By Me.

Author's Note: This was written for an anthology that alas will now never take place, in the universe of Fiona Skye.  It is set in the Night of Revelations universe.   While we're at it, here's my "page" as it were.  The yellowstone, dancing and "bardic" thing are not mine.  And Micronation is kind of awful.


This, I believe...isn't.


Double Down, Double Dead

by T.C. Ricks



Harvey Squeal could not believe the day he was having. The judge, looking down at him with those beady little pig eyes pronounced judgment, "I am sorry Mr Squeal, but the state of Ohio has no choice but to reject your appeal and declare that you remain legally dead."

"What?!" Harvey couldn't believe it. Maybe he shouldn't have tried to save money by being his own lawyer.
The judge threw up his hands,"Look. I am sorry. My hands are tied. The state only allows you five years to appeal your status. You waited ten."
"But...but...I am ALIVE...how does that make any sense?" No one had cared that he still loved his kid. No one had cared about why he'd had to hide from his Ex. No one cared at all.
"You were declared dead. You are going to stay that way. Case dismissed." Down came the gavel. Down went Harvey's hopes. The judge leaned forward, black robes spilling over his raised desk like he was giving a sermon,"and on a personal note, while I do not envy you your difficulty, perhaps you should have thought of that before trying to skip out on your wife and child to save a buck. Goodbye Mr Squeal."
The walk from the plaintiff table to the steps outside were the slowest in his life. A dozen reporters swarmed in front of him, taking pictures of him, hammering him with questions he ignored. He shuffled through them, feet poorly placed bit not wanting a picture of him shoving one of the ghoulish figures.
He finally got the door open and sunlight poured in, blinding him. He recoiled in surprise, letting the doors close with a sudden awkward slam. Just as he was reaching for them a second time, one of the battering questions caught him by surprise.
Harvey turned around and asked,"what did you ask me?"
The indie radio shock jock, dangling with wires and ticker tape permed hair that made it hard to tell where the hair began and the mobile studio ended blinked in surprise. The normally rude bottom feeder reporters fell silent, hoping for that moment of personally embarrassment that might go viral (and thus go gold). She coughed and said,"I asked if you were going to use the Vamp ID act to ....you know, get an ID."
"What the hell is that?"
A slow murmur grew among the reporters. The shock jock was incredulous. "Are you joshing me?"
Harvey shook his head,"I shit you not. Never heard of it."
Another reporter, a man in suspenders and a bow tie (what..was this suddenly the music man?) clapped Harvey on the back and smiled, “Well well well. You're in for a surprise then. Vampires are real. Werewolves are real. Wizards are real.”
The first reporter smiled and took his picture. “Great! And they have rights too. The Vampire Rights Act. But I bet nobody thought of a living person trying to use it to come back from the dead. Gonna become a 'vampire' Harvey?”
Harvey really wasn't thinking when he said the words, “I just might. I just might.” Was this all serious? He didn't know but he pushed his way past them and out into the light. He needed a drink.
******
He met the vampire in a dump called “The Electric Albatross.” It was filled with photos of patrons who were probably all dead now, except the guy over in the table in the corner who was nursing the same Jack and Coke for the entire two hours that Harvey had watched him. Harvey was not normally a punctual person, but these days he had nothing but time on his hands...and he didn't want to be late for a monster. Or Undead American. Or whatever.
Harvey had tried to do a little research on the internet before he'd contacted the local duke, but he spent four hours trying to figure out how to get to a different page before he finally just gave a kid five bucks to get him a phone number. Four second later, he made the call.
The vampire did a disservice to the stereotypes of movies on the surface, but if Harvey bent his mind sideways a bit, he could see it. The man in front of him was six feet tall, a hundred and fifty pounds and blond. His hair was a mess and he wore a McDonald’s t-shirt. The vampire wore something thick underneath...bullet proof vest? With a clinking sound, he slid into the other side of the booth giving Harvey a withering look.
“Hello Mr. Squeal.” The vampire extended his hand, as if he were shaking with a talking dog that had stepped in its own excrement before washing its paws.
Harvey shook the dead hand anyway. “Pleased to meet you Mister...?”
“Sir. Call me Sir Rakish. Of the Order of the Stilted Pillar.” Every word was frosty, laid dead upon the table in sacrifice to its undead originator.
Trying to ignore the waves of disgust, Harvey ignored the unseen sneer and smiled warmly, “Pleased to meet you Sir Rakish of the Order of the Stuttered-”
“-Stilted.”
“Yes, Stilted Pillar.” Harvey considered asking about the order, but thought it was a really really bad idea. Who knew what might insult Raky? So he focused on the essentials. “So, did they tell you why I called?”
Raky lifted his hands a second, almost as if pleading with the heavens, but then changed in the middle of the gesture, setting them calmly down on the table, almost as if presenting an invisible hand of cards. “It was not clear. You want to become a vampire. You want our approval. It was enough that the Duke sent me to see you.”



“I don't want to become a vampire but yes, I would like a writ of good conduct from the Duke.”

“Why?” Raky was clearly insulted.
Harvey wondered if everything insulted him. “The Vampire Reinduction Act says that anyone who has been a citizen of the United States can get their citizenship back if the local nobility bears witness to their good behavior. I'm not a vampire, but under the qualification of what a vampire is, I might as well be. To the state of Ohio, and thus to the Federal Government, I'm legally dead. Which means if the Duke vouches for my good conduct, I can regain my citizenship.”
Raky rubbed his temples slowly, methodically, patiently, hands against his temples as if somehow the very essence of Migraines were being poured directly into his skull. “And why,” he said after a few minutes of pained silence,”would the Duke possibly want to risk his reputation with a known scoundrel such as yourself? Among our kind, when you give your word it means something. Feudal ties and bonds that are made can last centuries, so we take them very seriously indeed. What could you possibly offer that we would want?”
“The good will of the humans?”
“You are a known oath breaker and a liar. You left your family.”
“There were reasons for that” Harvey started to give his explanation.
Raky held up his hand demanding silence. “And I do not care to hear them. You are hardly a broker of good will among humans.”
“Well,” Harvey said, carefully choosing how to say the words he had rehearsed so many times in his mind, “by helping a human, I figure subconsciously, people might think vampires are more human too. They might remember that you were human and that you have human like thoughts.”
Raky shook his face back as if he had been physically slapped. He muttered slowly, “Not all of us want to be seen as human. Not all of us regard ourselves as human.”
“But the Duke does.”
There was a long pause, and Raky nodded, “Yes. That is true. The Duke does care about this. A great deal.”
“So?”
Raky was displeased. Harvey could have a dozen conversation in the silence Raky gave in reply before the vampire finally said, “Fine. I will speak with the Duke.”
Suddenly a beam of hope came down from the heavens and lit up Harvey's world. “Really? That's awesome.”
“I will speak to the Duke.” Not a promise, but hope was still good.
“Of course,” Harvey shook his hand, “When shall I hear back from you?”
“When?”
“Soon.”
“Where?”
Raky looked around and waved at the bar, “Here will do.” And then he walked out of the bar.



*************************

The bar at the Electric Albatross was full of eccentric characters in the wee hours of the night. By day, it was truly boring, but Raky wasn't going to come during the day, was he? Plus, nights in Ohio were getting colder, so if he stayed awake here, he could sleep during the day. Recently, he'd been camping out on the roof of a building next to the courthouse. Harvey enjoyed the irony.
What he did not enjoy was being a minor celebrity among a crowd of misfits, like the idiot who sat across from him.
“So I'm totally a lizard man.”
“You don't look like a Lizard Man.” He took a sip from his Jack and Coke. He had to sip at least once every five minutes or the bartender complained. He had to order at least once every 90 minutes or they notice he wasn't drinking much of anything. He wanted to look and think good for Raky when he came back. Which meant keeping cool and alert. And also not getting thrown out of the bar, which is why he was talking with the Lizard Man.
“That's part of the curse.” The guy stuck his tongue out, lizard like.
“So you want to look like a lizard?”
“Are you kidding? OF COURSE I do. You know how much preternaturals that can get on TV are making these days? Being first can make you famous, and there are no famous lizard men right now.”
“No, that's true.”
“But when we get the curse lifted, we're going to freak people out. That's why we want your help.”
“MY help?” Harvey nearly spit out his drink.
“Everyone knows you dude, and in the community, we all know you're trying to get help from the vampires. If you pull that off, you're going to be famous. We could use that kind of fame.” The lizard man patted him on the back.
“Let's pretend I'm open to the idea.” He wasn't, but this was his life right now. “Do you have any proof...any proof at all, that you're actually a lizard man?”
“Sure I do.” The lizard man handed Harvey a scale.
“What is this?”
“It's one of my scales.”
“It looks like it came from an Iguana.”
“Well its mine!” The lizard man seemed insulted.
Uh oh. Time for a distraction, “Another drink please Barkeep.”
The lizard man immediately calmed down and smiled, “Allow me friend.”
Harvey was hardly a man to turn down a free drink.
********
Another night had passed. At the awfulness of dawn (maybe he was becoming part vampire) he stumbled out of the bar. He walked toward the nearest highway bypass where he kept his gear and set to work. Cars pulled up and he stuck out a baseball cap, begging for money.
Turns out being famousish is good for the begging business. More than a few folks slipped him a twenty. He hated it though and tried to stop once he had enough money for food and another round of drinks at the Albatross.
What really alarmed him though was the fact that if he wanted he could earn more money than a regular job It was tempting...very tempting. But Harvey wanted a life now. Mexico had been bad enough. He wasn't going to restart the cycle here.
The sleek but dented muscle car that pulled up with the tinted windows once he was wrapping up. It just sat there for a minute and a half, motor running. The light changed three times, other cars honking behind it while it blocked traffic. Harvey had a chill down his spine.
He picked up his stuff and left.
********
“Did you know that Lizard Men had psychic powers?”
Harvey was glad he had more funds than usual that night. The Lizard Man had lost all his money and wasn't paying for drinks. “I did not.” Harvey sipped his Jack and Coke.
The Lizard Man nodded and patted Harvey on the back, “Like, I sense the fact that you wish I had not lost all my money on a bet.” There was much grinning.
Harvey kept a mostly straight face. No good way to answer that question. He pointed to three dudes dressed all in black and leather. Whispering quietly, he asked, “What kind of a read do you get on those guys?”
“Trouble. That stands for P and that stands for pool.”
“What?”
Crestfallen, the Lizardman excused himself to go to the bathroom. “Have you no musical education whatsoever man? Have you no soul?”
“Hey. I'm the one applying to be a vampire.”
“Touche.”
With Lizard gone, Harvey was left alone at the bar with the bartender, who made a point of ignoring him unless Harvey was paying for a drink. With Cash. He looked back through the mirror at the thugs. They weren't quite bikers and they weren't really gang like. They looked like they had enough scars that they'd been in a lot of fights but he saw no identifying tattoos. Who were they? And why did they keep looking at him.
Finally, the Lizard Man came back, but Harvey was in no mood to talk. The Lizard Man's telepathy must have been working because he kept his mouth shut. Eventually, he went home. The whole night passed like that.
Then the sun rose. Harvey was all prepared to engage in his regular routine when he noticed the three guys from the bar get up at the same time he did. They got into the car that had made him so uncomfortable before. That was too much of a coincidence for Harvey. He went right back into the bar while the muscle car just sat there.
He had left over fifteen messages before someone called back. It wasn't Raky. “Hello?”
“Yes?” Harvey tried to keep his voice calm. “I have three questionable individuals who are stalking-”
“You do realize sir that Sir Rakish is a VAMPIRE and that he sleeps during the day do you not?” The voice on the other end was cultured, female, European and highly indignant.
“Well, of course but-”
“And you do realize that, contrary to all logic, the Duke is actually hearing your ridiculous appeal?”
“Of course, and I appreciate that but-”
“Do not call here during the day again.”
“But the three guys...”
The female spoke slowly, as she would to a child. “They're probably hunters. Call the police.”
Harvey wasn't really keen to call the cops. Dead people didn't vote, and cops were not to keen to help someone who the state didn't think worth helping, especially a homeless “deadbeat dad.”
No good could come of this. So he waited. The car waited. The bartender let him sit as long as he had money. But that eventually ran out.
This gave Harvey a brilliant idea. He looked at the bartender. “I'll be honest...I'm out of money.”
“So leave.” The bar tender's voice was neutral and surly.
“There are three guys outside who want my head on a platter. Can you call the police?”
“Not my problem.”
“Report me for vagrancy?” Harvey didn't want bad blood. He could eat in jail. He slid his last five dollars to the bartender who took it, eying Harvey suspiciously the whole time. Finally, the bartender put down his dish rag and called the cops.
Harvey had never been so glad to be put in the back of a police car in his life.
**************
Six and a half hours later, while Harvey sat in the general holding pen with people who honestly didn't seem that much better than the three hunters who had been sitting outside the Albatross, a large doughnut gobbler walked up to the bars and tapped the wall with a stapler. “Hey Squeal, someone bailed you out. Comemere.”



Doughnut gobbler pulled back the door, and for a moment Harvey was sure there was going to be a mad rush for the exit by all 25 miscreants inside, but strangely nothing happened. Probably Doughnut Gobbler's gun and their own lack thereof. Harvey grabbed the towel sized blanket they had given him and headed out. After dropping the towelquet in its appropriate receptacle, Harvey followed the nice man as he waddled outside.

Behold the Great Kazoo. “My name,” the Great Kazoo said,”Is Austin Otter. I'm a wizard.” Kazoo wore a gray and brown thousand dollar suit that went with his hundred dollar haircut. From ten feet away he looked just like any other lawyer. From five feet away he looked like a Ripley's Believe it or Not refugee, with hundreds of very subtle things that bespoke weird; the lion headed can with insect compound eyes; the numbered tattoos on his wrists or the Eiffel Tower tie clip.
Doughnut Gobbler made a sign of the cross on his chest and swore to himself.
Kazoo ignored him. “I have a proposition for you Mr. Squeal.”
“Nice to meet you too Mr. Otter. I'm fine thank you. And yourself?”
Kazoo also ignored Harvey's attempts at polite conservation. “I paid your bail and I am prepared to pay more.”
“I'm glad to hear it. I hope your aunt gets better.” After Kazoo looked totally lost, Harvey decided to refocus things on the 'pay' element of the situation. “What do you want...and what are you paying?”
“Straight to business, a man after my own heart.” Kazoo grinned and wrung his hands with glee. “I want seven drops of blood. Your blood. In exchange, I will give you a charm to protect you from the hunters for ten minutes that are after you and five thousand dollars.”
Harvey wanted to ask lots of questions...like how Kazoo knew about the hunters. But instead he asked the only one that mattered. “Won't that give you power over me?”
“It would but I give you my solemn word I will not use it to harm you. A wizard's word is his bond.” Harvey had no idea on that front. If his mechanic told him his corroborator was broken, Harvey wouldn't know either. What was very real was the five thousand dollars in Kazoo's outstretched hand.
That was real enough for Harvey. “Deal.” Harvey took the cash and shook the bastard's hand.



*******

They were waiting for him at the restaurant. Once he got off of the bus, he saw the car. Now though he had more than enough money to wait until he knew if Raky was going to do him a solid. All he had to do was make it inside of the bar. He walked slowly at first, but then made a mad dash for the door.
It wasn't enough. One got in front of him and two got behind him. After a quick tackle, they held him down on the ground and despite his attempts to get away, couldn't muster the strength. He shouted for help but either no one in the bar cared or they couldn't hear. Harvey suspected it was a little of both.
Invulnerability wasn't all it was cracked up to be. To start with, the bullet still stung like a son of a bitch. It was like his skin was made of Kevlar but Harvey could still feel the inevitable bruising underneath, but the force from the impact knocked the wind out of him and knocked him flat on his ass. Worse, the lack of blood made the hunters think he really was a vampire, so they kept trying to impale him with stakes.
Ten minutes didn't turn out to be long enough. Not nearly.
One of the stakes got a splinter on his face right before the hunters plunged it through his heart.
“WAIT!”
The sight of the blood plus the plea was enough to get them to stop.
The leader, or at least the tallest finally said the first words that Harvey had heard him say. “What?”
“Five thousand dollars.”
That got their attention. They didn't stake him. They didn't try to kill him.
“I've got five thousand dollars in my back pocket.”
They checked. They took the money.
“Thanks vampire.” The leader lifted the stake again.
“I'm not a vampire! And I can get you more money....”
They paused again. “You have 24 hours.”
And they left, brave defenders of humanity that they were, one by one they slinked into the muscle car and drove away. Apparently $5000 was worth more than their convictions.

********

Harvey was waiting for the phone call, when the Lizard man walked in. He still looked human. “Any miraculous transformations today?”, Harvey said.
Lizard man smiled sardonically and shook his head.
Harvey said, “you know I know a wizard now. Maybe I could put in a good word.”
Lizardman smiled a toothy grin and could almost imagine alligator teeth there. “That would be great, motherfucker. My wife is going nuts. Got his number?”
“as a matter of fact, I motherfucking do!”
Five minutes later we called up Lord Kazoo. 15 minutes later, Lord Kazoo was there in the flesh. Same style suit, different color; red and white. Maybe he was celebrating a new baby. “Ah, Harvey. So glad to see you. That blood worked fantastically.”
Harvey nodded, “great. I was wondering if you could do a spell for my friend here. Could you help him return to his natural form?”
Lord Kazoo got a rather sour look on his face,and puckered his lips. “Perhaps I am not the man to cast this spell for you, but for the 1.2 million I am prepared to pay you for a pint of your blood, I am sure that you can find the right man for the job.”
The entire bar went silent, really really silent. Like the opposite of the lizard man being in the room kind of silent. Finally, after a minute I asked, “Umm, yeah. I can do that, sure. But jut out of curiosity, what do you need it for?”
That had been a mistake, but it was too late now. Kazoo began to babble. “I'm glad you asked. You see the sympathetic link between yourself and a weapon that I forge with your blood is absolutely deadly to living or dead alike, but due to the difficulty in true weapons quality steel that affects the undead, the material components of your blood are such that it causes an immediate thaumatalogical toxic reaction in necromanticly animated flesh, far beyond that of fire or true holy objects or even blue oriculcum, since you are both alive in the biological sense and dead by decree of the state. The spell schema normally calls for a man thought dead, but not only are you dead, you're declared so by the state. The king and the land shall be one, as shown in Morte de Arthur (they got that one right) which in turn means that-”
“Whoa whoa whoa. My blood is letting you make like....super weapons?”
“Yes.”
Harvey sighed. Curse his luck. He looked at Lizard.
Lizard nodded understandingly.
Turning back to Kazoo, Harvey said,”No dice doc.”
“Excuse me?”
“I am out of the blood market. I don't want my blood...on my hands.” It wasn't the most sophisticated metaphor, but it would do.
For a second, the room smelled of Ozone. Kazoo's nostril's flared and his eyes widened. His lips pursed and number dotted hands cracked and bent at the bone. And then he shrugged. “Your loss. The blood must be willing or not all. You could have been rich.” And just like that, Kazoo walked out of the bar.
The bartender looked at Harvey like his was an idiot.
Lizard patted him on the back and smiled, “Hey man, I think you made the right decision.”
**************
The next day, Raky finally visited the Albatross. He didn't stay any longer than he had to, handing a document to Harvey. “The Duke has decided to offer you status as a Vampire for purposes of the United States Government. You have no standing in Vampire society. You would do well to learn our laws, and he will vouch for you with no one else, but you can get your citizenship.”
Beaming, Harvey nodded. “Any other restrictions?”
“Stop calling us.”
“Can do. Thank you. I mean it.”
No clever retort came. Raky just walked out, black cloak fluttering in a wind that no one else in the bar could see.
*************
Review written on Amazon.com for “Plight of the Lizard People.”

“I have read this book and highly endorse it. While I can neither confirm nor deny the claims made in the book are actual, Lizard got me through a very dark time and bought me drinks when I needed them. He's an honest sort and a swell guy. Now that I'm a minor celebrity as the world's only living vampire, I return the favor. I cannot endorse this book enough.” -Harvey Squeal, Vampire at Large  

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