Chapter 322 - Utah, One Week Ago part 7

Gon had gone to rest on the sliver of land that separated the Canadian and Beat Stone Rivers. He had roused when Sydney confronted the old bandit—vampire senses were exquisitely acute, he told the boy later—and had flown to Sydney's rescue as quickly as he could, yanking the boy out of the bullet's path just in the nick of time. The kinetic energy of the boy's sudden acceleration was like getting hit by a train. Gon had cushioned the blow as much as he was able to, but the impact left several large bruises on Sydney's chest and hip and left arm, and he suffered intermittent dizzy spells for the next three or four days. But he was alive and that was all that mattered.

Sydney knew how close he had come to taking a bullet in the brain, and nothing—not even the sight of his benefactor covered in the old man's blood—could temper the gratitude he felt for his savior. He was staring right down the barrel of the old man's gun when the vampire snatched him out of harm's way. He saw the spark, the gun smoke belching from the barrel of the pistol, before the vampire scooped him up and everything went a little sketchy. The rational part of his mind insisted it was impossible—no one could move that fast!—but that was how he remembered it.

After killing the old man—after feeding on him, Sydney amended, stomach rolling—Gon went down to the river and washed the blood from his hands and face. "Well, this isn't coming out," the vampire said, scowling at his bloodstained collar. His cuffs were stained, too. He looked thoroughly disgusted with himself.

Sydney rose shakily and the vampire came to look him over.

"You are unhurt," the vampire pronounced. "You were lucky. That was a very near thing. I was dreaming... I almost didn't wake in time."

"Can you fly?" Sydney asked, remembering how the vampire has flashed across the river to save him, fans of water spraying to either side of his blurred form.

"Fly?" Gon said. "No. I can move very quickly. I can leap great distances. But I cannot fly."

There was some sort of black fluid trickling down the vampire's cheeks. It looked like he was weeping India ink. Sydney pointed it out and the immortal wiped his cheeks, licking the dark substance from his fingers. "It is my blood," the vampire said. "The light is painful."

"It makes your eyes bleed?"

The vampire nodded.

"No wonder you sleep during the day. Folks back home would take one look at you and run away screaming."

Gon chuckled.

At night, the vampire was ethereal. Beautiful, really. In the firelight, his pale skin had the golden sheen of a Chiaroscuro portrait. In the sober light of day, it was another story. The pale skin that gleamed so beautifully in the firelight became almost translucent so that Sydney could see all the veins squirming just beneath the surface, subtly throbbing, like wriggling worms. The texture of his skin was porous and unnatural and his eyes bled a viscous black ichor. In the daylight, the handsome immortal looked like a fresh corpse, pallid and bloodless. Worse, he looked inhuman.

Disturbed, Sydney tore his eyes away. He found himself looking at the dead man on the ground. The old man's toothless mouth hung agape, filmy eyes staring sightlessly up at the sky. Sydney would have been just as dead if not for the vampire's intervention. Horror, like a formless cloud, seemed to enfold him, and he struggled to catch his breath. His heart began to gallop in his chest. "Can we leave here?" he gasped. "I don't want to stay here any longer. Now, please?"

"We must see to the body first," the vampire said.

Sydney watched as the vampire went to the old man's side and lowered to his knees. Gon spat into his hand and rubbed the dark substance, his blood, onto the wound in the old man's neck. In moments, the tattered edges seemed to melt together. The immortal's strange black blood had completely healed his injuries. There were scars, pale indentations in his unshaven neck, but if Sydney hadn't witnessed the bandit's murder firsthand, he wouldn't have been able to tell that he had just had his throat ripped out. He might have died of old age.

"Could… could you bring him back to life if you wanted?" Sydney asked haltingly. "Like Jesus resurrected Lazarus?"

"It is possible," Gon said, looking up at him. "If I made him an immortal. He has not been dead long. But his mind would not be the same. He would be… damaged. Mad, perhaps. Uncontrollable. Like a wild beast. But I wouldn't do it. He is not deserving."

"No," Sydney said. His heart was still racing in his chest. The ground beneath his feet seemed to be undulating, and he had trouble focusing his eyes.

"Are you all right?" Gon asked.

"I feel a little faint."

"You have had a terrible shock. It will pass."

Sydney nodded. "I think I'll sit down for a minute. Unless you need some help."

"No. I do not need your assistance. I will bury him right here. Then we will go."

Sydney sat and tried to calm himself as the vampire dug a grave. Gon tore into the earth with his bare hands, his movements so rapid his limbs were just a blur. After a few minutes, the sight of the immortal digging like a dog, dirt flying into the air behind him, began to amuse the boy. It reminded him of his dog Bo, digging in the yard for moles. When it was finished, the vampire searched the old man's body. He rolled the stiffening corpse from one side to the other, going through his pockets, but found nothing of real value-- a few spare bullets and an old sock with some tarnished coins inside. He glanced up at Sydney and shrugged. The vampire placed the old man gently in the grave, then covered him and joined Sydney beneath the paloverde tree.

"Are you ready?" Gon asked.

"Wouldn't you rather wait until sundown?"

"I can bear the light a little longer," the vampire replied. "You said you wanted to go. I will accompany you."

Sydney nodded and clambered to his feet. The vampire took his hand and helped him up. They gathered his things and saddled his horse. Black Devil snorted and shied away as they worked on his saddle. The murder of the old man had left the horse anxious and jumpy. Sydney could sympathize. He felt a little skittish himself. He tried his best to soothe the beast, petting his neck and murmuring in his ear, but Devil wasn't having it. Finally, Sydney lost his patience with the horse. Cursing the mettlesome stallion, Sydney mounted and followed the vampire away. Black Devil finally calmed down, but only after they'd put some distance between them and the site of the murder.

Gon was calm and introspective that afternoon, staring off toward the horizon without speaking. Occasionally, he swiped the black blood from his cheeks.

Sydney squinted thoughtfully at his companion, turning the things he had seen that day over in his mind. Finally, he said, "It's in the blood, isn't it?"