Old School, New Wave

bout de papier, Vol. 26, No. 4 (2012) — Summer 2012 // Été 2012, pp. 41–44

Rhya comes dancing down the stairs from the apartment and says she is going out. We talk a little about this, a little about that. She is happy with her new job as puzzle editor at the Centre. She has a small bandage on the left side of her neck but I do not think much about it at the time. She is my angel and bright and beautiful and I am happy.

A noisy cavalcade pulls up outside. A black Ferrari Testosterossa, a car I am not seeing much since maybe the 80s. And four NightShadow motorcycles, custom models like big cats on wheels. Young bikers in black and purple silk, steel jewellery and make-up that would flunk you out of embalming school. The man in the car is middle-aged, white-haired and slick from head to toe in cobra leather. Rhya kisses me, turns, smiles up at him and gets in the car. I grit my teeth, but we have a deal. The horde moves off.

As I fume, others creep out of an alley and scurry to my door. My friend Shamus Dikk, along with the world’s driest mouthpiece, D Essex Mackinaw, and some bozo in a tweed suit. Shamus says, dressing up like vampires or watching movies about werewolves or going to zombie parties. Yeah,” I reply, ’Last night I see some yokel dressed up as the Blob trip on the curb and slip down a sewer grate. But I recall even weirder things from the acid I drop in the 60s. And my daughter goes round with a pretty strange mob, which does not seem to hurt her.”

Mackinaw takes over. “Mr January, these trends are backed by troubling facts. The economy is suffering because people get sick, people quit work, people just disappear. No one knows what is going on, but people are nervous. The city is quietly collapsing. And, curiously, blood-banks have been empty for weeks.” The lawyer stares at the pile of dust gathering on the floor around his chair. The prof speaks up. “Actually, I know exactly what is going on. The city is being over-run by monsters. They are more clever now than in historical times. Today, before they move in, they create a culture that makes people more accepting of their existence. This enhanced level of belief allows the supernatural to manifest.” much monster-related incident as possible, to sap the belief levels that are sustaining the enemy. But such an uphill struggle.”

“The vampires are a really big threat, Harry,” bursts in Shamus. “They have undead converts in key positions all over the city, including the whole Civic Council, the Mayor, half the Police Department and all of Homeland Security. Plus a lot of top CEOs and right-wing media. They plan to stage a midnight coup within a few days, create chaos and take over openly under cover of ‘restoring order’.”

I look at him and say, “This is of course terrible news, but you are telling me exactly why? You are planning to put the bite on me before they do?”

The shyster coughs. “A committee of influential citizens has formed to stop this walking plague. At great cost, we have determined the identity of the leader, the Count as he calls himself” The prof snorts. “But we have no idea how to find him. When anyone tries to follow him, he just disappears into the mist. We can’t get anywhere near his car. But he has one weak spot. He appears to have fallen in love.”

The hair on the back of my neck goes up like a bottle rocket on the 4th. “I am still not hearing any way that I can help you.” Shamus’ voice is gentle. “The Count was that guy in the Ferrari, Harry. And the one he has fallen for is Rhya. She can help us find his lair before it is too late.”

I give them the fish-eye. “If you think that I allow my angel to mix any more with those creeps, you are crazy as automatic socks. After tonight, she does not go near them, if I have to chain her in the cellar.” “Thus becoming,” Mackinaw points out, “the kind of person with whom you fear to let her associate.” I blow. “Listen, mothballs-for-brains, there is no way I let her near enough to that snake to get bit.”

Shamus speaks. “It’s too late Harry. That bandage on her neck isn’t covering a hickey.” I fold and the prof takes up the story. “I am sorry, Mr January, but this means your daughter has only a couple of days before she becomes a vampire herself.” “Isn’t there any way to change her back?” “Only one. If the vampire, known as the Master, who creates a new vampire is itself killed, then all the vampires it has created die with it. Then all their creations die and so on down the chain. This is why we’re seeking the local Master, because all or most of the vampires in the city are its descendants.” “But what about Rhya? She is not a vampire yet.” “No, and if we can kill the Master before Rhya’s conversion is complete, she will revert to full humanity.”

I sit up. “OK, I catch your drift. What exactly do you want me to do? Find some way to plant the Count for keeps?” Mackinaw lifts a finger. “Not so hasty, young man. We’re not even sure that the Count is the Master. The real Master is never identified to outsiders. What Rhya has to do is twofold. First, find out the identity of the Master. Secondly, put a tracking device in that Ferrari. We’ll handle the rest.”

I nod. “OK, but this is not an easy job. Rhya has a mind of her own and she is loyal to her friends.” Shamus says, “We’re asking a lot, Harry, but you and Rhya are our last chance. You’ll just have to be persuasive.” This is of course easy for him to say. Rhya in fact pops her cork completely, accuses me of playing father like a heavy out of Warner Brothers. But she is not stupid, she trusts me and when I tell her about the vampires, it is like she already knows in the back of her mind. The clincher is the double bite under the bandage, of which she has no memory. After shouts and tears, she agrees to help.

While she is spying on the coven, I have other things to do. Like a visit to High Calibre Hector to get a gat and ammo. HiCal does not ask questions, which is wise for a man in his line of work. I also find a tiny tracer, which I give to Rhya one night when she comes home late from clubbing with the Count.

The next night, Rhya does not come home and her cell phone stays off. In the morning, I am pacing the shop when a tall black woman in leathers and shades comes in, drops an envelope on the counter and says, “We found this on Rhya’s desk. It’s a puzzle she was working on for us, but the envelope’s addressed to you. Just after dark last night, this guy drove up to the building. He called her from the desk and she went down. Really dragging her feet, but she went. She didn’t come back.” She splits and I hear her motorcycle roar off into the distance.

In the envelope is a puzzle chart and clues. I am out of my depth as a virgin in Vegas, but I am also out of time. So I call Shamus and he promises to come right over. Waiting, I turn on the gizmo that tracks the tracer and the map shows a red dot. I hide the tracker as Shamus comes through the door. I hand him the envelope.

Each clue below relates to a horror or monster-related production (cinema or TV) whose title fits into the row of blank squares with the same number in the chart, one letter per square. The string of numbers in the square brackets at the end of each clue gives the year of release or first broadcast, then the number of letters in each word of the movie’s or program’s title. The central column of letters (marked with a W), read vertically, provides a message to the concerned reader. Note: some of the initial articles “the” and “a” have been omitted in the movie titles, others not.

(1) Mia Farrow learns the joys of motherhood. Not. (1968: 9-4)

(2) The first major Dracula adaptation,

German silent. (1922: 9)

(3) Karloff and Lugosi do Poe, nevermore. (1935: 3-5)

(4) Lupine horror with Lon Chaney.

(1941, remade 2010: 3-4-3)

(5) Sarah Michelle Gellar stakes out a

claim to fame. (TV 1997: 5-3-7-6)

(6) Gene Wilder comedy with Peter Boyle

as a made man. (1974: 5-12)

(7) Cannibal cut-ups on the Rio Grande,

now a film franchise. (1974: 5-5-3-8) (8) Leroux novel filmed many times,

coming up with Tom Cruise. (first in

1925: 7-2-3-5)

(9) Influential Romero zombie epic,

remakes and sequels to 2010. (1968:

5-2-3-6-4)

(10) What possessed Linda Blair and can

Father Damian help? (1973: 3-8) (11) Jack Nicholson does Stephen King.

With an axe. In the snow. (1980: 3-7) (12) New Yorker cartoons to TV to film

with Raul Julia and Anjelica Huston.

(1991: 3-6-6)

(13) Freddy Krueger slashes a tree-lined

road. (1984: 1-9-2-3-6)

(14) Improvised hunt for the supernatural

in Maryland woods. (1999: 5-5-7) (15) Just when we thought it was safe to take

a shower, Mr Hitchcock. (1960: 6) (16)Who you gonna call? Murray?

Aykroyd? Ramis? (1984: 12)

(17) Vampire film series, most recently

“Breaking Dawn”. (2008-2012: 3-8-4) (18) Anthony Hopkins nearly does in fine

dining. (1991: 7-2-3-5)

(19) Pixar comedy computer animation

redefining corporate scare tactics.

(2001: 8-3)

(20) Karloff as an Egyptian who gets

unwound. (1932: 3-5)

(21) Something puts the bite on Shaw,

Dreyfuss and Scheider. (1975: 4) (22) Post-Potter Radcliffe faces a haunted

house. (2012: 3-5-2-5)

(23) German expressionist silent film with

Conrad Veidt as the monster. (1920:

7-2-2-8)

(24) RL Stevenson split-personality tale,

filmed with Fredric March. (1931:

2-6-3-2-4)

Shamus solves this puzzle in two minutes flat, with help from the Internet. “Some of the titles are obscure,” he says, “but you don’t need to get all of them — even if you miss a few, the vertical text is clear enough.” The hidden message tells me most of what I need to know.

Shamus figures I am not planning to wait for the citizens’ committee and is tooling up to go with me, He is not of the sunniest disposition when I tell him I do not need his help. We tussle. I feed him a large knuckle sandwich and leave him contemplating the ceiling.

The tracker tells me where the coven is holed up. I race over in my Reo and am soon outside a mansion which clearly has a lot of spondulicks invested, but maybe not so wisely. I am thinking that Rem Koolhass with bats does not really work. But I apply a finger to the buzzer, which screams like the A train going round a hard curve. The door swings open on a goombah with a face like last month’s pastrami. He says nothing, which I am thinking is probably just as well.

He shows me to a big room on the second floor, with windows overlooking a graveyard that I know for a fact does not belong. For one thing, it is night out there, but it is noon at the front when I arrive. “Good effects,” I say to the Count as he stands up from behind a long table.

“Mr January,” he says. “How nice of you to call. It saves us the trouble of tracking you down and ripping your heart out in public. Such bad PR. But you know too much, and here we can arrange to extinguish your soul like gentlemen. Meanwhile, let me introduce my associates.” He gestures. “Laura Accord, Ulan Curd-Taco, Occult Ruanda and Aunt Dora Clué.” They smile and I watch their needle teeth grow longer.

So I know my target. I pull out the gat from HiCal. The Count just smiles. “Firearms? How quaint. First, they can’t harm us. Secondly, even if they could, you wouldn’t have time to get us all before the survivors tore you limb from limb. And besides, as part of the general slaughter, you would have to kill — dear Rhya.”

A curtain parts and my angel walks in, wearing a white dress stained with blood trickling from her lips. Her eyes are like coals in a fire pit. “Oh yes, she crossed over about an hour ago. She was…so hungry. Fortunately, we had someone on hand to slake her needs. You humans are so weak, so predicatble. You cannot kill the daughter you love, yet she will kill you at a single word from me. So why don’t you put the gun down and we’ll sort this out. l’I] even let you pick your grave — for as long as you choose to stay there.”

I figure I have one shot. I look at the count and I look at Rhya. My eyes sting. I close them, say a prayer to St Damon and make my choice. The Master looks faintly surprised as a ragged hole appears over its heart and does not quickly heal. “What…” it starts to say. I rasp, “Silver buckshot, soaked in garlic. Punching it old school.” Its body whispers slowly into dust. The other vampires also fade to black. Outside, the graveyard is now children playing in the park. My own child lies dying at my feet.

I kneel and cradle her. She is human again but fading fast. “Angel…,” I say.

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