Equinox

Chapter 12. Pain

12. Pain

“It’s nearly sunset.”

Jabir is by the window, gazing out, apprehensively.  I stop fiddling with the straps on my rucksack and stare hard at him, waiting for him to turn and meet my eyes.

“You can change your mind.  Just say,” I tell him, when I have eye contact.  He shakes his head.

“No, I want this.  But…” he pauses as if to gather his thoughts and I wait silently.  I want him, so badly, this intense, foreign boy, but only if he wants to be with me.  What I am about to put him through is really unforgiveable, it is the most self-serving, evil thing I could ask of him, and yet here he is, offering himself to me willingly.  If he has any second thoughts, any worries, he must tell me.  I can’t – I won’t – do anything until he is ready.

“Sunset,” he explains eventually, “is one of our times for prayer.  I have moved away from Allah, become estranged, as you say.  But I think I should pray one last time, make peace with Him, if that’s possible.”

“Alright,” I tell him.  “I need to pop out, anyway.  How long do you need?”

“’Pop out?’”

Well, there’s no point sugar-coating this.  If he even survives transformation, this will be his life too, and he needs to understand what that entails.

“I’m going to hunt.  If I’m not thirsty, maybe I can manage this without killing you.”

“Oh.” He blinks, chagrined.

“Sorry,” my voice softens.  “I didn’t mean to put it so harshly.  I just – I’ve never tried this, and if I fail, you’ll – you’ll die.”

“Do you want to change your mind?” Jabir asks me.  His expression holds nothing but kind concern, which makes me feel even guiltier.

“No.  But I wish I could do this without hurting you.  If Allah is listening, Jabir, you should ask Him for strength.  You’ll need it.”

I can’t meet his gaze any longer, so I turn and slip out.

The half-built apartment complex stands at the very edge of a small town called Flemington, outside of New York.  The building work was abandoned as the recession deepened.  We are surrounded by fields with few neighbouring properties, and no likelihood of being disturbed.  I discovered this place several months ago while drifting aimlessly, and thought at the time this might provide a suitable refuge, if ever I had the chance to create a vampire.  When it is time, we are going to lock ourselves into the basement where we will be neither seen nor heard.

I follow the edges of the fields, staying out of sight as much as possible.  The sun is just about down now, and with the weak cloud cover, it is gloomy enough for me to be inconspicuous, but I’m not taking any chances.  Eventually I find myself in the industrial part to the south of the town, and in the almost-deserted parking lot of an office block I find my target. 

It must be Sunday because the offices are closed, and the only vehicle is a huge, articulated lorry, a real monster truck, with the curtains around the cab firmly drawn.  The occupant is taking a rest break, and there is no one else around.  I listen carefully to the breathing, and when I am certain he is sleeping deeply, I clamber up and try the passenger door handle.  It is unlocked.  I shake my head at the gentleman’s carelessness, and let myself silently in.

On a shelf behind the bench seat, under a grubby duvet, my prey snores quietly.  He is huge, about six feet tall and overweight – easily three hundred pounds, I’m sure.  This is good news for me, he represents a large feed.  I creep soundlessly over the back of the bench and crawl into the bed beside him.  He is completely unaware of his interloper, and remains oblivious as I expose his underarm and sink my teeth in to feed.