The Vampire Murders: Epilogue
by Nan Smith
Previously:
Slowly, the silver Cherokee bearing Lois and Clark moved down the street in the gathering dusk, toward the main drag.
It was still snowing.
**********
Epilogue
Bobby Bigmouth glanced casually at the glowing dial of his watch, which informed him that it was quarter to eight. He was supposed to be at the homeless shelter at eight-thirty, but with the heavy snow falling, nobody would mind if he was a little early. Besides, Bibbo always had some kind of snacks set out for his helpers, and Bobby was anxious to get out of the cold.
So, apparently, were quite a few others. It looked as if a large fraction of Metropolis's homeless population had already arrived, he noted, stepping through the rickety wooden door and pushing through the shield of blankets that had been hung in front of the entranceway to block drafts, into the back room of Bibbo's. The rough but well-intentioned owner, for several years now, had turned his large back storeroom into a place to sleep for those who had arrived too late to find a bed at the more formal homeless establishments about the city. Some officious meddler had reported the situation last year and the Department of Public Health had arrived to shut down the impromptu homeless shelter. A homeless man had subsequently frozen to death in an alley, having been denied a cot due to lack of space. It had been Lois Lane who reported the disgraceful indifference of the city leaders to the situation. That had been followed by an outcry from the ordinary citizens of the city, who apparently had the common sense to understand that it was somewhat less healthy to die huddled outside in a freezing alley at night than it was to sleep wrapped in a blanket on the floor of a warm Suicide Slum dive, and the red-faced authorities had been forced to back down. Somehow, the situation had not arisen this year.
Bobby had to admire Lois, the way she stood up to the stuffed shirts that ran the city. It couldn't make her very popular with them; that was certain, but it never seemed to stop her, and now that Kent was working with her, Bobby was willing to bet the Hottest Team in Town scared the pants off a lot of the more corrupt leaders of the city. Look at how she and Kent had taken care of the Cost Mart smuggling thing. The police might have made the bust, but Bobby knew who had started it. And they had turned up that Native American crypt under the Cost Mart parking lot, too. He hoped that the vampire business was finished now, but the story still didn't explain what had happened to Manny, and that bothered him.
It had been just before dawn when Manny had burst into the homeless shelter across town where Bobby had been working that night, out of breath and scared out of his wits, gasping out the story of the nameless black thing that had swooped down from above. He'd stayed inside until well after the morning sun had illuminated the city, and then ventured out to his usual haunts. Bobby had advised him to get under cover before sunset, but apparently he hadn't made it, for his body had been found in Centennial Park the next day, the first victim of the "vampire."
Bobby fingered the crucifix he wore under his shirt. The people he associated with would probably razz him if they found out about it. It was pretty well established that the murders had been the work of the smugglers who had used Cost Mart as their base of operations, which, Bobby knew, meant Intergang, but he couldn't quite convince himself that they had been responsible for Manny's death. Why should Intergang kill Manny, who had no connection to their organization at all? Besides, as far as Bobby knew, the only man who could fly was Superman, who wouldn't kill anyone, not even bad guys. Yet Manny, and later Lois, herself, had seen whatever it was, and it had probably killed the two Intergang thugs who'd tried to kidnap Lois.
Something still didn't add up, and Bobby hadn't been able to make sense of it at all.
It made him unhappy.
"I beg your pardon, Mr. Bigmouth." The voice held an accent Bobby didn't recognize, and he turned to see a short, brown-skinned man standing beside him, holding the arm of another man who was bundled in a heavy coat.
"Yeah?"
Something about the stranger made the hairs on the back of his neck prickle slightly, but the man gave him a faint, pleasant smile, showing a glimpse of gleaming white teeth. He was dressed in a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, and did not appear to be in the least uncomfortable in the temperature of the room, which, although considerably warmer than the outer air, still was cool enough that Bobby had no immediate wish to shed his coat.
"I am told that you are a good friend of my companion. I would like to leave him with you until he recovers. It is quite cold outside."
Bobby glanced at the other man, and then looked more closely. Wrapped in the ragged but warm clothing, with a muffler wound around his neck and lower face, he had an unnerving resemblance to Manny. He glanced back at the dark man who had spoken to him, only to find that he had vanished.
"Come on, pal, let's see if Bibbo's got any hot coffee around," Bobby said after a moment. The guy looked as if he really needed to warm up.
The other man blinked at him as if trying to focus his eyes. "Bobby?" he muttered.
Bobby reached out to pull down the muffler, only to find himself staring into the face of Manny, who for a week he had believed to be dead. Very little surprised Bobby anymore, but this was one of the few.
"Manny?" he stuttered.
The former NASA scientist peered hazily at him, looking as confused as Bobby felt. After a moment, the snitch managed to get hold of himself and get his mind back on what needed to be done.
"Come on, Manny," he said, matter-of-factly, "let's go get you some coffee."
**********
It was done, and he was very tired.
The death of the homeless man was an error that could not be left to stand, no matter the cost. It had been very long ago that his power had been utilized in such a way and the skills of his profession had their price. It would require much rest and sleep to recover his strength and power, but there had been no choice.
He who had been Night Eagle soared through the night over the great city that had taken the place of the land that he had once known.
His new place of concealment lay beneath it: a set of empty, long-abandoned rooms that were tucked away in a hidden corner of the great system of tunnels that honeycombed the ground. Through them, great vehicles ran on rails, bearing thousands of people to their destinations, day and night, but the tiny corner was cleverly concealed and its chances of discovery were slim.
He had again defended the land to which he was bound, and if the need arose, he could do so again. And one day Laughing Bird would come to him, and the curse would end.
He had done all he could for his land and its people, and the new and worthy friends he had come to know. They called him 'vampire' he thought with grim amusement. How little they knew. If the spirits were kind, perhaps they would never need to know more.
Lois Lane's spirit was so like that of his Laughing Bird that they could have been sisters. He could not have refused to help her when the need arose. For a brief instant he wished that she had indeed been the one for which he waited, but she was tied to the other, the man called Superman, who worked beside her in hidden guise. Another guardian of the city of Metropolis. Perhaps Clark Kent would take his advice before it was too late.
Silently, the dark man landed near one of the entrances to his hidden lair. It would be dark and quiet once more, and he could rest.
He was content.
The End
