Parallel World

Chapter 17

"I haven't seen Lance for a while," Chris said. "I wonder if he's fallen into a manhole on his way here?"

Jack was DJing tonight, music was blasting out of loudspeakers, the club was packed as usual, whereas I was sitting on one of the red velvet sofas with Chris and Nolan.

"No, Lance is busy with other stuff at the moment," Nolan declared. He seemed to be very well informed about everything. He was an expert in history, always up to date with current affairs and, if you wanted to know what this or that New York vampire was up to at any given time, you only had to ask Nolan. "Recently he visited Damien and Matthew and caused a ruckus there."

"He probably used one of his memorised speeches and only changed "Lestanheart and Harper" to "Kelso and Rogers"," I assumed.

Nolan grinned.

"You're almost right. He did briefly mention you two. Lance was marching around the site criticising Damien and Matthew and complaining that more and more vampires reject the traditional lifestyle and engage in all sorts of nonsense. Lance said it all started with the introduction of synthetic blood. If Lestanheart and Harper hadn't invented it then no-one would need Kelso and Rogers's little project."

Damien and Matthew had bought acres of forest in Pennsylvania a few years ago and turned it into a paintball ground for vampires. We were all hunters and these instincts had to be utilised on a regular basis. Lance, of course, insisted that only Slood users who were deprived of hunting went there but nothing could be further away from the truth. Attacking a human didn't take much skill and it was all over in a matter of seconds - hardly exciting for any predator. That's why the paintball ground was so popular. Vampires were thrilled to run around for miles and miles and make proper use of their skills.

"And what did Lance say about Kelso Castle?" I asked.

"Nothing. I think he's not aware of it," Nolan suggested.

About a year ago Damien had come up with a new idea - an obstacle race named after himself. Participants had to run through ditches, trenches, climb walls, cross rope bridges, find their way out of labyrinths, et cetera, to get to the destination - a medieval castle which, naturally, had the gates locked and was heavily guarded. Vampires could use their imagination to try and storm it. Meanwhile, the guards were throwing rocks and clay pots at them, or pouring syrup and grease all over the participants. Damien got the idea from the popular Japanese TV show Takeshi's Castle and it was wildly popular because it was incredibly difficult to win. For instance, the race began with a five mile run through the forest that was covered in traps - one wrong step and you fell into a ten metre deep hole and the race was over. The next task was running through a field full of motion sensors. Anybody who touched one got hit by an exploding ball and ended up splashed head to toe in green dye. Turning green had the same consequences as falling into a hole - it was game over. Jack and I had tried the race and managed to reach the castle. We were about two thirds up the castle wall when we suffered a vicious rain of rocks and fell into the ditch underneath. Jack landed first, I followed him about three seconds later.

"I can't say I miss him but I would be interested to know what is currently going on in Lance's head," I said. "There is a reason why people say keep your friends close and your enemies even closer."

Nolan caught my mood.

"You have a bad feeling?"

I nodded.

"I do."

                                                                                               xxx

One afternoon, shortly after Jack and I had arrived at the club, I suddenly noticed that he had  become very tense and was glued to the screens. We had at least a dozen cameras outside the club, just in case, and usually there was nothing worth watching there - the only creatures that ever got caught on camera were stray cats and local pigeons. I went closer to a screen and froze.