Bar Fight

The year was 1999, and things were going well for both of the Writeman boys. Jack had begun a very successful funeral home, which was doing well for him, though that meant it was bad for his customers. Benny once asked him if he felt comfortable exploiting people's pain for his own financial gain.

"Why not?" Jack answered, "Jerry Springer does it every day. Besides, I'm providing a valuable and necessary service to our community."

Although Jack's answer sounded very well-rehearsed, Benny said nothing more on the subject. Not even Jack was able to predict his eventual fear of dead bodies.

Indianapolis had a thriving art community, albeit a very small one, and one of Benny's paintings had just won a place in an art showing downtown. He and Autumn had been living together in a small apartment on the southwest side of Indy, and wedding bells were definitely in the near future.

Frank's bank, on the other hand, was seeing hard times because of the bigger banks that kept popping up around town. Until one night, when he was visited by an odd eccentric with a pair of associates and an intriguing request. Frank sat back in his desk chair and listened to the man with the cane and long, nearly white hair explain his proposal.

"That is a very tempting, though illegal offer you have there," Frank said, "but why are you coming to me?"

"Because, Mr. Writeman, we know that you are in desperate need of the money you stand to make off this deal. Furthermore, we know you are very good at keeping secrets. You've done so well at keeping mine already."

Frank didn't have to ask what the man meant by this. Odin Sway had been a regular at the bank for over a year now and The Old Man had known he was a vampire almost right away. Frank had confronted him about it, insuring Odin he would tell no one as long as he didn't bring any trouble into his bank.

"I've always admired you for your boldness in approaching me, Frank," Odin continued, using The Old Man's name for the first time. "That's why I recommended you to my superiors for this opportunity."

Frank thought about the story Benny had told him a few years ago, of the monster crouched over some lifeless lump on a bathroom floor. He did not feel the least bit comfortable going into business with these murdering, mythical creatures, but knew he liked the alternative even less.

"Alright, Odin," Frank finally replied, making sure he used the vampire's first name in return, "count me in."

"Excellent!" The vampire exclaimed, though still somehow kept his face from showing any emotion whatsoever. "All dealings with our group will be handled through me and no one else. Because this is an illegal venture, our contract will be strictly verbal and all account information must be handled by you and no one else. Agreed?"

"Agreed." The two men shook hands and soon, all of Frank's financial woes were no longer an issue.

As the Writemans sped down the road in the battered hearse, Benny recounted his confrontation with Odin Sway.

"I wonder why he acted so strange when he saw Autumn," Jack said, "and what was up with the werewolves? Why did you read them as being Odin?"

"Well I do have a theory on that," Autumn answered. "If he has some kind of psychic ability, he may have been able to leave his imprint on the werewolves' minds."

"Weird!" Jack returned.

Once the sun came up, the Writemans decided it was safe to stop and get some rest at the nearest motel. Benny and Autumn got a separate room from Frank and Jack, and the latter two decide to get breakfast, while the former two retired to bed.

Jack wasn't really even clear where they were. He thought they might still be in Nebraska, but at that point, it didn't make a whole lot of difference. Autumn knew Odin Sway was hiding out in northern Colorado (high up in the Rockies, presumably) and that was where they were heading later.

There was a small diner across the street from the motel. Inside, Frank and Jack took a seat in a booth near the window so they could keep an eye on the car and view anything strange that might happen outside. They were immediately approached by an elderly woman sporting a beehive hairdo, whose mouth was busy smacking away at a piece of gum.

"What can I get for you, fellas?" the waitress asked.

Frank had to squint his old eyes to read the woman's name tag. "Hi, Judith, I'd like scrambled eggs, bacon, toast, and orange juice."

"Okay, and for you?" she said, turning to Jack.

Jack only stared at the woman's hair with a dazed expression.

"Is there a problem, honey?" she inquired of the younger man.

Jack stammered a moment. "Um, no. I was just admiring your hair. You don't see many women with beehives anymore and I, for one think it's a style that never should have gone away."

Judith the waitress only stared at him for a long while, lips still busily smacking away at her gum. Jack wondered if she was going to buy that line of bull and suddenly felt like a used car salesman pulling for some poor sucker to sign a deal.

Finally, a smile spread across the waitress's face and she said, "Why thank you. You know, so few people appreciate it. Now, what would you like?"

"Pancakes and milk, thanks."

"Oh, and can we get today's paper?" Frank added.

"Sure."

The waitress walked away and Frank lowered his head and began speaking in a hushed voice. "You know, I think you could sell a seeing-eye dog to a deaf man."

Jack only responded with a shrug.

"Listen, while you were sleeping in the car, I called James to get a little info on werewolves."

"Cool," Jack said with excitement. The previous night of carnage had seemed to make Jack loosen up and become far more interested in the supernatural world they were now entangled in. "What did you find out?"

"Well, according to his information, which comes from an actual hunter who's been successfully killing these things for a few years, they don't need a full moon to change. As long as it's nighttime, they can change at will, however, a full moon does make them far more powerful. Their also highly intelligent, not like the mindless killing machines they're portrayed to be in popular media."

"I don't know," Jack said with a satisfied smile, "we sure did make them look like a bunch of stupid pussies last night."

A snorted laugh escaped Frank. "Yeah, we did, didn't we?"

The two of them laughed together, and it dawned on Frank that he had never been as close to his sons as he had been for the past three days.

"You know, Jack," the Old Man said after the laughs had died away, "I realize this has been a strange trip, but I'm glad you decided to take it. This whole thing has brought us together as a family like nothing else before."

"Yeah, maybe we should write a book," Jack held his hands up as if seeing some imaginary marquee. "I can see the title now, 'Killing Things: How to Fix a Dysfunctional Family'."

The two men were hit with fresh laughter as the waitress arrived with their food and the morning paper. Jack began to wolf down his pancakes like a starving, wild beast while Frank scanned through the front section and was relieved to find nothing about the Writeman family killing spree. Although, he didn't really know what he was expecting to find. Autopsies would certainly show some strange facts about the bodies they had left behind, but somehow he doubted any of those facts would make it to the public.

Jack had already finished his pancakes and was waving the waitress down to order more, acting as if he hadn't eaten in days. Frank took a few bites of egg and pulled out the sports section.

"Well, what do you know," he said, surprised, "the Colts are 7-0 on the season, and they beat Denver yesterday."

"Aw shit, I bet that was a good game."

"Maybe."

"Hey, this is their year, Dad. The Colts are going to be Super Bowl champs."

"Aw, bullshit," Frank stated with a look of disgust. "No team can make it very far with a defense like that. They've been lucky so far."

"7-0 is not luck, Dad. Besides, three of their major defensive linemen are on the injury list and two of them are due to be back next week. Things are only going to get better."

"You know, I watch this team every year, and every year it's the same shit. They play like world-beaters all season, and then they get to the playoffs and choke in the first or second round. I'm tired of it, and I won't waste my time following them anymore."

"Then why do you still follow politics."

Frank looked confused. "What does one have to do with the other?"

"Think about it. It's almost 2007. No sane person is happy with the current administration, but we keep following politics and we keep voting in the hopes that something good will eventually happen. Things don't always turn out the way you want them to, but you have to keep supporting your political party of choice, and your hometown team, with the hopes that they go on to win the whole thing."

Frank only stared at his oldest son for a long moment.

"What?" Jack asked, fearing he had said something stupid.

"When did you become so insightful?"

Frank was surprised to see Jack's cheeks flush. "It's the weed, it fuels my philosophical side."

The two shared another laugh as they finished eating their breakfast and spent the next two hours talking about football and politics, before finally turning in.

Frank actually slept for five whole hours.

While Frank and Jack were eating breakfast, Benny and Autumn were lying in bed face to face, staring at each other in silence, their clothes lying in a heap on the floor. Autumn had just finished cleaning Benny's cuts, delighted to find none of them were deep enough for stitches.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" she whispered.

"Of course I am," he answered, though he wasn't entirely sure that was true. At that point, he was very thankful that he had refused an autopsy. Otherwise, she would have a stitched-up scar covering her midsection on top of everything else that was causing his hesitation.

He placed his hand on her left breast and nearly yanked it back when he felt how very cold her skin had become. He made a conscious effort to keep any discomfort from showing on his face.

She leaned forward and kissed him and again he nearly flinched at her freezing touch. Her lips parted and her tongue entered his mouth, exploring with slow intent. Somehow, her mouth felt warm and Benny began to feel more at ease. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her body closer to his. He could feel a stir in his lower region. Yes, this body was dead, but his wife was fully alive within.

This was his love.

His life.

The woman he had made love to on countless occasions before. Soon, he couldn't understand how he ever could have felt uncomfortable with her in any way.

The passion in their kiss increased as his hand moved to her buttocks and squeezed the left cheek.

With great effort, she broke their kiss and said; "I brought something from home."

While she turned to reach for her purse on the floor, Benny took one of her nipples into his mouth and began to suck and playfully bite at it. The low temperature of her body seemed to make her nipples unbelievably hard.

Autumn turned back to Benny with a tube of lubricant in her hand. "As I said, my pipes don't work so well anymore. Besides, it's got warming sensation."

Benny got to his knees and let Autumn apply the lubricant to both of them and was surprised at just how warm the stuff was.

Autumn lay back on the bed and Benny hovered above her for a moment, sharing another kiss before entering her.

They made love for 30 minutes, and once they'd finished, they did it again.

Jack still hadn't come down from the excitement of the previous night and, though he lay down for an hour, he was unable to sleep. So, he decided to explore the sleepy little town they had stumbled upon.

There wasn't much to the place, just the diner, the motel, a gas station, and some old houses were immediately visible from where he stood. Further down the street, he could see a neon sign that advertised a country and western bar.

He crossed the street back over toward the diner and continued down the sidewalk toward a building that looked absolutely ancient. The building, as it turned out, hosted three small shops, the first of which was an auto parts store. He stopped in and picked up a couple of quarts of oil for the hearse. He knew the old death cab had a tendency to burn through the oil and figured it would be pretty low by now.

The second store specialized in women's clothing and, though Jack found the lace teddy in the window damn sexy, he decided it was probably best to keep walking.

The space on the far corner of the building housed a small bookstore. Jack walked in and was amazed at the number of old books the owners of the place were able to fit in the tiny store. He wasn't much of a reader, but he was sure Benny and Autumn would love to check the place out.

He browsed a couple of sections and was about to leave when he noticed a little doorway at the back of the store that was separated by strings of colorful beads. The sign above the door read "Adults Only".

A smile stretched across Jack's face and he rubbed his hands together mischievously as he passed through the beads.

Inside, the small room's walls were lined with racks upon racks of adult magazines. If Jack Writeman was able to mold his own personal heaven, this would be it. Against the back wall, he found several white boxes with yet another sign attached. This one read; "Back Issues". With a sudden nervous glee, he began to search through the back issues of Playboy, and after only a few seconds he found what he was looking for. He held the magazine up in front of him and could swear he heard a choir of angels sing its praise.

After making his purchase, Jack went back to the motel.

At around five pm, Benny woke up to the sound of someone knocking at his door. Reaching for a 9mm he had grown rather fond of, he looked down at Autumn and found her staring blankly up at the ceiling.

"Autumn?" Benny asked, with a touch of concern apparent in his voice. "Are you alright?"

She looked at him and smiled, "I'm fine," she answered dreamily. "You don't have to worry about the gun, it's only Jack."

Benny stared at her for a long moment, and then another knock came from the door. Wrapping a sheet around himself, he walked around the bed to the door, keeping the pistol in hand despite his wife's prediction of his brother's presence.

Benny cracked the door open and saw Jack's face on the other side on the other side. "Hey, bro. I found a little shit kicker bar down the street, I was wondering if you'd like to come and have a drink with me?"

"Sure," Benny said, "just give me a few minutes to get dressed"

Benny closed the door and began to pull on his pants. Autumn sat up and began to dress as well. After the two of them were fully clothed, Benny bent and gave his wife a long deep kiss.

"Just remember," she said, "Frank wanted to be back on the road by 6:00, make sure you two are back and ready."

"Aye Aye, Captain," Benny said with a salute.

"Fuck you," Autumn returned, giggling.

He kissed her again, "I love you."

"I love you too, Benny."

On the other side of the door, Benny found his brother sitting on the hood of some stranger's car, smoking a joint and reading a beat-up copy of Dracula by Bram Stoker.

"Where'd you get that?" Benny asked.

"Oh, there's a little, used book store across the road there," he pointed to a small unmarked building next to the diner. "I wasn't able to get any sleep, so I found a piece of sheet metal to patch up that hole in the roof of the hearse, but don't worry, I'll turn that into a bitchin moon roof when we get back home. I also decided to do some exploring around town. Oh, look at what else I found," he picked a brown, paper bag up off the ground, reached inside, and produced a slightly beat-up Playboy magazine.

"The Tiffany issue," Benny said, feigning interest.

"Yeah, I finally got it back for my collection. Man, that bookstore must have had hundreds of back issues."

"Is that right?" Benny said as they began to walk.

"Yeah," Jack continued, "and you know, this is really a nice little town. They got everything you need right here on Main St. There's a liquor store, a church, a diner, a bar, they even have a small electronics store that has a limited selection of CDs."

"Really? Did they have anything good?"

"No, everything was shitty."

"Okay. So, are you going to get to a point sometime soon?"

"I'm just saying, this is the type of place I could see myself retiring someday."

"Well, that's cool. Where the hell are we, anyway?

"I have no idea."

Ten minutes later, they were walking into a small country, western bar. Benny rolled his eyes when he heard the twang of the latest rich kid complaining about how hard he's got it blaring from the jukebox in the corner. "Alright," he said, "but we're only staying for a couple of drinks, you know I can't stand this backward, butt fucking, hick music for very long. And just so you know, if they start playing dueling banjo's I'm fucking sprinting out of this dive."

"Alright, alright."

They walked over to the nearest table and sat down. A few minutes later they were approached by a waitress who looked like she might have been pretty thirty years ago. Jack ordered two shots of whisky rye, and shortly after the two men were toasting the breasts of some up-and-coming actress that Benny had never heard of.

"I'm telling you, man, they're a good size and look fantastic," Jack finished.

"I'll have to take your word for it, Jack," Benny responded, slinging the warm liquid down his throat. "So, is there a specific reason you wanted to get me here?"

Jack pulled a small bottle of clear liquid out of the pocket of his pullover. "Just this. Benny, I want you to take a shot of this with me."

Benny glanced around the bar, "I don't think these people would appreciate you bringing outside alcohol into their establishment."

"Ah, don't worry about them," Jack said as he refilled the shot glasses. "Cheers!"

Benny picked up his glass and gave his brother a look of doubt.

"C'mon," Jack said, faking hurt at Benny's hesitation, "I'm your brother, have I ever let you down."

"Well, no, not recently anyway." Benny braced himself for what he assumed to be moonshine and drank the liquid down. Much to his surprise, there was no burning sensation in his throat, or terrible shock to his taste buds. As a matter of fact, the stuff didn't have a taste at all.

"What do you think?" Jack asked, after downing his own.

"Is this…water?"

"It's not just water, it's holy water. I've been drinking it all day. You see, I got this idea if we drink a bunch of holy water and one of those fuckers sinks their teeth into us, what do you think will happen."

Benny shrugged his shoulders.

"Jesus Christ, Benny, use your imagination. If they get one of us we'll take one of them with us. It's brilliant, right?"

"That is pretty clever," Benny admitted, "but, since when are you so anxious to fight more of these things?"

"The cornfield, man. Fighting those werewolves was just such a fucking rush. The Old Man and I really fucked them up out there, you know? I know this is going to sound corny (no pun intended), but we've never been a real close family. I mean you and I have a good relationship. We hang out, shoot some pool and get fucked up once a week. The past few days I've felt closer to you guys than ever and I know Dad feels the same way."

"Yeah, I know what you mean," Benny said with a smile, although he was only partially listening. His attention had been taken by two well-dressed individuals who had just walked in.

Jack could tell by the change in his brother's posture that trouble had just pulled a seat up at the bar. "Who is it?" he asked.

"Two men, very well dressed, one of them keeps stealing glances this way."

"Sun's not down yet, couldn't be vampires."

"I guess," Benny said uncertainly.

The two men threw back a shot each, then slid off their stools and walked toward Benny and Jack.

"You boys look familiar, have we met before?" the black man asked.

"I don't think so," Benny answered.

The other man spoke in a deep voice, "Why don't we buy you a couple of drinks, and maybe we could figure it out?"

Benny glanced out the window and saw the sun was quickly setting. "Sorry, friends, but we really must be hitting the road."

"Maybe we could persuade you to change your mind," the black man said. They each reached into their jacket pockets and pulled out small leather wallets and, like bad actors in a 70's cop show, flipped them open to reveal F.B.I. credentials.

"Yeah," deep voice said sarcastically "now it's coming back to me. You're two of the three guys wanted by the F.B.I. for going on a killing spree across the country."

Benny's heart must have skipped three beats, as a sudden feeling of hopelessness filled his entire body. He dropped his hand stealthily to the butt of the gun that was tucked in his belt. He couldn't let it end here.

Autumn was dressed and ready to go when Frank came knocking at the door.

"C'mon, we got to hit the road, it's almost sundown." Her father-in-law glanced around her room and added. "Where are the boys?"

"You haven't seen them?"

"No."

"They went for a drink at a bar down the street, but they should've come back by now. I just figured they were with you."

Frank looked down the street with concern. "We better go find them."

A few hundred miles away, Odin Sway was standing in a dimly lit room next to the lord of his clan, watching in awe as their god quietly approached them.

Deppleo is the beginning. The father of all vampires. The torchlight seemed to bend away from him as he passed, creating an ever-present shadow over his presence. No one had ever been privileged enough to behold the true identity of Deppleo, but Odin felt greatly honored just to stand in the same room.

"Oh, Great One," the vampire lord said, bowing low, "lend us your wisdom in this time of tragedy."

"I have no wisdom to share," the god said in a low rumble, "though my anger is overflowing. These humans have killed far too many vampires already and I'm beginning to think all of our years spent building a superior species have been wasted. Obviously sending an unlimited supply of lesser vampires after them is not working, so I will leave it to you two to come up with a solution to this problem. However, I want to make one thing understood, I want the killing of my children to stop, or I will hold both of you personally responsible. Do I make myself clear?"

The vampire lord stared unblinkingly at the dark form before them, "You are positively transparent in your directness."

"Good," Deppleo said as he turned to leave, "now if you'll excuse me, I am a busy man these days."

"Of course."

Odin thought it was best to keep silent and watch the old god disappear into the darkness at the corner of the room. The vampire lord then raised one hand above his head and snapped his fingers. A few seconds later a bat flew in through an opened window and fluttered patiently around the two vampires.

The vampire lord seemed to search for the right thing to say to the newcomer. Finally, he let out a series of squeaks and screeches and the bat flew up through the window from which it came.

"Now, Odin, my friend," the ancient vampire said with a satisfied smile, "we will let your newfound fan club find their way here, where I will welcome them in my own special way. I do so love surprises."

Benny was a split second away from setting his guns ablaze on the F.B.I. agents when he heard his father's booming voice; "Hey, boys, where you been. Are you going to introduce me to your new friends?"

The old man gave Benny a look that seemed to say 'don't do anything stupid' and Benny slowly removed his hand from the gun.

"Hey, Dad," Jack said, "this is Agent Anderson and Agent Fields of the F.B.I." The two agents reached inside their pockets and produced their I.D.'s once again.

"Wow, feds huh? I don't think I've ever had the pleasure of meeting real-life F.B.I. agents. Let me ask you something, is there really a division for weird shit like on that show 'The X-files'?"

Ol' deep voice gave Frank a disbelieving look. "You don't know how often we get that question."

Just then, the front door of the bar banged open and several sharp-dressed gentlemen walked in. Frank moved to the seats directly in front of the agents and leaned in to whisper to them. "Look, I'm going to level with you guys. Where on a mission to avenge my daughter-in-law, who came back from the dead and is waiting outside in the car, and the men who are responsible for her death are vampires, five of which we were able to kill while they were sleeping, but the sixth one keeps slipping away from us and we've had to kill a number of vampires and werewolves who were dumb enough to get in our way. Now, those guys who just walked into the bar are vampires and they are here looking for us, so I have to tell you if you value your lives, you'll get up and walk out of this joint right now because some scary shit is about to go down."

The two agents shared a comical look.

"Don't you worry about us, Mr. Writeman," Agent Fields said, "I think we can handle ourselves against any 'vampire'." He used his fingers for the universal gesture of quotation marks.

"It's not the vampires you have to worry about," Frank said with a sly, crooked smile.

Now, Agent Anderson looked pissed off. "Are you threatening a government official, Mr. Writeman?"

"No, I'm threatening a couple of worthless, mangy, filth-ridden, shit-eating, butt sniffing, no good, cock smoking, goddamned, werewolves."

The two agents shared another look, only their stern expressions were gone, replaced by a mixture of shame and anger.

"Don't look so surprised," Frank continued, "if you're going to wear a disguise you might as well go all the way. When you opened your jackets to show me your credentials, I noticed neither of you are carrying a gun. Oh, but your proud hunters, right? It would be disgraceful to use man-made weapons, even if it was on a man."

Frank stared at the two agents for a moment longer, and then, without warning, Benny's right hand came up in a flash. The 9 mm pistol roared three quick shots; the top of Agent Field's head tore off and flapped backward like the lid of a cookie jar. The crowd screamed and most ran for the nearest exit, while others dropped to the floor.

Frank had a .45 pulled and was blasting Agent Anderson in the chest midway through the werewolf's transformation. The force of the bullets knocked the creature over in his seat.

The vampires at the bar were now moving toward them fast with fangs out in hideous expressions of rage.

The Writemans moved to separate sides of the bar in an attempt to split the vampires up among them. As they did, four more vampires entered through the front door. Benny spared a glance at Jack and was relieved to see a .38 revolver in his hand. He was afraid his big brother had forgotten to pack some heat.

Turning his attention back on the vampires, Benny lifted his gun and the dimly lit country and western bar suddenly resembled a disco, as gunshots flashed around the room. From his left, he heard Jack let out a scream that was followed by an inhuman shriek that could only be a vampire in great pain.

Benny turned to check on his brother, but the flashes from the guns had left a purple imprint on his eyes and he couldn't see if Jack was still in the same spot.

He sensed the vampire before he felt it tackle him to the ground. The creature now had Benny pinned to the floor, his arms crammed at his sides. The purple haze had begun to dissipate and Benny could clearly make out the sharp white fangs that were only inches from his face. Twisting his left hand, he managed to grip the small wooden stake that was tucked into his belt. He drove the stake into the vampire's crotch and felt gratified by the look of surprise that came over the creature's face. After knocking the thing off himself, and putting a bullet in its forehead, Benny went to work on the remaining vampires.

Frank was now out of bullets, with no fresh clips left on his belt, so he was relieved to see that his attackers had stopped in their tracks, and every vampire in the room was now totally focused on a bat that had just entered from the open front door.

The bat flew to a light fixture that hung over the pool table and clung to the bottom of it. Hanging upside down, it spread its wings and let out a series of squeaks and screeches. The vampires collectively put their heads down, like a group of kids who were just told playtime was over and it was time to come in and take a bath, and turned to walk out of the bar.

Benny looked over at Frank, "What the fuck was that all about?"

Frank only shrugged at his son, confused. The Old Man looked down at the floor and his confusion seemed to grow. "What could have caused that?"

Following his father's gaze, Benny found a pile of steaming, bubbling, blood and guts that he assumed was once a vampire. Then it suddenly dawned on him what could have caused the mess. He ran to an overturned table and tossed it aside to find his brother lying against the wall, holding his neck with his right hand.

"I ran out of bullets," Jack said weakly. "Fucking revolver. I should have known better than to grab a fucking revolver to carry on me. I got him good, though, see Benny?"

"The holy water," Benny stated.

"That's right, man, the fucking holy water," Jack continued, and then, switching from triumphant to regretful. "Oh shit, maybe I shouldn't have said 'fuck' and 'holy water' in the same sentence. Do you think that would be seen as sacrilegious?"

"Try to calm down, Jack," Frank interjected. "Let me have a look at your neck."

Slowly, Jack moved his hand away from his neck, revealing two small holes that were still oozing a good amount of blood.

"Come on, Benny," Frank said, "help me get him to the car; we need to get to a hospital."

"Do you think they can help him?"

"I don't know, but we have to give it a shot."

Frank and Benny helped Jack to the passenger seat in the hearse. Benny joined Autumn in the back, and the old death cab peeled out of the bar's parking lot.

"I thought I was going to die on this trip," Jack told his father as they drove east toward the middle of town. "All this time I couldn't shake this feeling that I'm the bit actor in this tale, only written in so I could be killed in some horrible way by the monsters we're all fighting. Then, earlier today, I was taking a shit back at the motel and I came to this crazy realization that I was kicking so much ass I might actually make it through. Now I'm lying here, dying."

"You're not dying," Frank said forcefully, "you're going to be alright."

"No, I'm not dying. At least not like everyone else dies. I'm turning into one of them, aren't I?"

Frank looked at his son sternly. "Yeah, and we don't have much time, but I think we can clean it out of your system. According to James, it's kind of like snake poison."

"He's wrong, Dad," Jack said breathlessly. "He's wrong."

"Just…just calm down, Jack, you're going to be alright."

Frank pulled the car into a medical center that he'd noticed when they came into town. There were two men dressed in scrubs and puffing on cigarettes standing outside the automatic doors as he pulled up. He brought the car to a stop, flung his door open, and approached the men.

"Hey," the old man said in an urgent tone, "can you give us a hand, my son has been hurt."

The younger of the two men looked the hearse up and down and said; "Dude, I think he's beyond our help."

"NO!" Frank shouted, making the two men flinch. "There is no time for jokes, he's not in the back, he's in the passenger seat."

The two followed Frank around the front of the car where they met Benny, who was just coming from the back. They all stopped and stared at the open passenger-side door. Jack was gone.

Benny walked toward the parking lot, his eyes searching franticly; he began to shout his brother's name.

"JACK! JACK, COME BACK, PLEASE."

"Benny," Frank interrupted, "get back in the car."

Suddenly, Autumn was at Benny's side with her cold hand in his. He looked down into her brown eyes and knew that this wasn't the time to go off looking for his brother.

After apologizing to the hospital employees, the three of them managed to squeeze into the front of the hearse and in a matter of minutes, they were back on the road, heading west.

"Why did he run away?" Benny asked, with tears rolling down his face, "Is he one of them now?"

"Not yet," Frank answered, "but, he will be, eventually. I think he knew that and that's why he ran. He didn't want one of us to be forced to put him down."

"How long does it take to change completely?" Autumn inquired.

"Three or four weeks," Frank said, "and from what I understand, it's a fairly painful transformation."

"Maybe we can still help him," Autumn said, hopefully.

"Right now we need to focus on one goal at a time, and our number one priority is finding Odin Sway and giving you the peace you deserve. Benny and I can find Jack afterward and we'll do everything we can to help him."

"And if you can't help him?"

"There's an answer to every problem if you look hard enough."

Benny remained quiet the rest of the trip. Hours passed and the sun began to rise. In the distance, he could make out the dark shape of the Rocky Mountains.