Bloodlines, The Epilogue, #7, Djoser’s Date
George Romero = Reinvented the horror genre with his Night of the Living Dead (1968), a cult classic that made its way onto the prestigious National Film Registry of the Library of Congress. Also produced ‘Dawn of the Dead’, its remake, and ‘Land of the Dead.’
January 30, 2006
“So I was totally enrolled and even attended the first couple of sessions of my classes, when it hit me.” Standing across from Angel, Connor was doing his best to explain his sudden appearance on his father’s doorstep, suitcases in hand. “I didn’t want to be there. It all seemed so trivial, when, when,” he faltered a bit, as Angel folded his arms across his chest, expression grim.
“Look at his right temple.” Sitting on the couch, watching the drama unfold, Spike whispered to Eamon. “It’s throbbing. I’d say his head is going to explode any minute now.”
“William!” Angel snapped out. “Shut your mouth. So. . . .” He turned his attention back to Connor. “You just decided to drop out of school.”
“You’re in a war!” Connor raised his voice with conviction. “How can I ignore that? How can I sit in some stupid philosophy class, while all of you, my family, may be dying?”
“And what did your parents say about this?”
“They weren’t happy,” Connor admitted. “But I promised that I would return to school, and I will, when everything is settled. . . .” He waved his hand around. “Here.”
“Everything is settled here,” Angel growled out. “We’re close to a truce, so your actions were impetuous and foolish.”
“Close to a truce, you say?” Spike decided it was time for his input. “We’ve just opened talks about a possible truce, and knowing the way talks usually go, it will be decades, possibly centuries before anything is agreed upon.”
“William!” Angel was beginning to wonder why he had ever thought that having Childer was a good thing. “Didn’t I tell you to shut your mouth?”
“He needs to know the truth,” Spike said emphatically.
“He needs. . . .” Angel’s gaze swung back to Connor. “To go back to his family and return to school.”
“I’m staying until this war you’re in is settled.” Connor sat down on his suitcases, giving Angel an I-dare-you-to-stop-me look.
“Fine.” Angel stomped to the door, thinking wistfully of the old days, when regular beatings of your Childer was accepted. “Stay here and keep William company.”
**
February 3, 2006
“How great is this?” Nic strolled into the Tremeren sitting room, a scowl fixed firmly on his face. His mood was bleak, as he had just been ordered by Angelus to attend another peace talk. “One more nephew.” He stared over at Connor, who was deeply engrossed playing video games with Spike and Eamon. “Who wastes all of his time and does nothing constructive.”
“Looks who’s talking,” Spike mumbled back, as he shot Nic a dark glare. His uncle was ruining his concentration.
“For almost two centuries I’ve been working for a living, and that’s more than I can say for. . . .” His gaze swept over his nephews. “You three.”
“Worked for a living, ri-ght,” Spike said with contempt, eyes glued to the television set. “Beating-up and killing gangsters is working for a living. What I wouldn’t give to have a sweet set-up like that.”
“Hey, working with mobsters isn’t as easy as you think. I earned every penny they paid me.”
Spike gave Connor a nudge with his elbow. “He didn’t have to hunt for his meals; they were lined up for him, and he lived in places like the Waldorf Astoria. Tough, gig, eh.”
“It must be nice to be such a know-it-all about things you know nothing ab. . . .” Nic started to retort, when a dressed up Djoser entered the room, diverting everyone’s attention away from the argument.
“My god!” Nic gave a woof-whistle. “The boy did inherit some genes from his Sire. Did you borrow those clothes from Angelus? And why are you all dressed-up? Hot date?”
“You’re going to do it.” Spike’s tone was accusatory. He had put two and two together fast. “You’re going to take out Miss Psycho-Slayer.”
“It doesn’t hurt to see what she has to say,” Djoser said, as he self-consciously stood in front of the room’s occupants. “How do I look? And,” he quickly added, as he saw Spike open his mouth. “I don’t want to hear, like a Poof.”
“Right then, how about, like a Ponce?”
Glowering at Spike Djoser hadn’t really expected anything less from his brother. “I don’t want to ruin my clothes, so you’re safe. . .for now.” His threat was said in a mild tone.
“You look nice,” Nic eyed his nephew from head to toe. “So Angelus gave his permission for you to date this Slayer? And who are your chaperones for the evening?”
“It’s been arranged that a couple of bodyguards will accompany me.”
“That’s the arrangement.” Spike could act the fool, but in reality he was no fool. “But I know you’re going to ditch them as soon as you’re out of LA. You don’t want the barbarian twins with you when you’re on a date with the Slayer.”
“Barbarian twins?” Connor had no idea who Spike was talking about.
“Two Neanderthals, who are joined at the hip and share one brain cell.” Spike described the two minions, who many times acted in the capacity of bodyguards for them and the Ventrues.
“They’re an embarrassment,” Djoser added emphatically. “I’d like to know what pea-brain thought it was good idea to turn them.”
“They are strong.” Nic rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “And they are fighters. You really should take them with you.”
“They’re imbeciles!” Djoser snapped back. “I’ll be trying to have a conversation, and those two will be making moronic remarks about everyone and everything they see.”
“You can’t leave here unescorted, especially to meet a Slayer,” Nic was still thoughtful. “Of course, I could always go with you. Give me a good excuse to skip the peace talk tonight.”
“Faith doesn’t like you, and I know she’ll be there.” Spike had a brainstorm and it didn’t include his uncle. “She won’t let her little protégé out alone with the big, bad vampire, so I should go. Round out the numbers.”
“I’d like to go too,” Connor quickly piped up. He didn’t want to left out. “Faith knows me, and I’d like to meet this Dana.”
She’s psychotic.” Spike could always sum up Dana with that one word.
“Well, I was at one time too, so I should probably be the one to go with you.” Connor looked over at Djoser. “I might have some insight into what she’s thinking, or what she may or may not do.”
“If you think that I’m going to take all of you.” Djoser dark eyes swept over his younger brothers and cousin. “You can think again.”
“As far as I’m concerned, you’re safe,” Eamon said. “I’ve been ordered by my Sire to attend tonight’s meeting, which is quite unfair, since neither of you. . . .” He looked first to Spike and then Djoser. “Have to go.”
“I’ve been excused. The Elders here are quite interested in me trying to gain the confidence of Dana the Slayer,” Djoser explained.
“And I was told to never come back to another peace talk after the one and only I attended.” Spike shrugged, as he picked up the video controller and resumed playing. “They weren’t thrilled that I brought a couple of beers with me.”
“You brought beer to the peace talk?” Eamon was torn between disbelief and amusement.
“Yeah, but it wasn’t the beer that offended the Elders,” Nic said dryly. “It was the belching of the alphabet.”
“Yes, because of that I’ve been banned from all future talks, which just breaks my unbeating heart.” Spike flashed a cocky grin. The berating he received from Angel afterward was well worth being saved from listening to hours of drivel, which would have led to a sure death from boredom.
“By the gods.” Djoser could only stare upward. His younger brother was one of a kind.
“Anyway.” Spike returned to the original subject. “You.” He gave Djoser a hard stare. “Are taking us with you tonight.”
“I’d rather take the barbarian twins,” Djoser replied with a growl. “There’s less chance of them embarrassing me than you.”
“Ri-ight,” Spike drawled out, giving his brother a unreadable look. “But the barbarian twins won’t go and tattle to our Sire about you going to San Diego. . . unchaperoned, whereas. . . .” He swung the video controller around by its cord, as he smiled innocently.
“Fine.” Djoser surrendered, but not totally. “I’ll take the barbarian twins with me to San Diego, and I won’t ditch them.”
“I feel an urge. . . .” Spike threw the video controller on the coffee table. “To go and have a long talk with my Father.”
“I just said,” Djoser started to repeat himself, when he realized what Spike was up to. Even if he swore to his Sire that he would not lose his bodyguards before arriving in San Diego, the seed of doubt would have already been planted by his brother. He would be forbidden to go. “All right,” he snarled back. “But if you do anything like belch the alphabet during my date, I’ll screw you into the ground head first.”
“Right.” Spike was grinning triumphantly at Connor, undaunted by Djoser’s threat. “No belching the alphabet.”
**
San Diego, California
Staring at Spike and Connor, who were strolling through the front door, Faith was incredulous. “You bring your brothers on a date?” she asked Djoser, who was the last to enter her house.
“We’re the chaperones for the night,” Spike answered, before Djoser could open his mouth.
“Chaperones?” Faith couldn’t remember the last time she had heard that word in a conversation. “Hate to break it to you fellows, but we are living in the twenty-first century and this is the US. Chaperones are a thing of the past.”
“Not when you’re the Crowned Prince,” Spike said, flashing a grin at Djoser, who was practicing self-restraint by not going over and clubbing him.
“O-kay,” Faith drawled out thoughtfully. “So Angel sends the other two princes to chaperone and protect. I may not be any expert in vampire culture, but that makes no sense to put all three princes in the line of fire. Next time I see Angel, I’ll have to. . . .”
“Well, you know the peace talks are going on, and they’ve required the attendance of many of our Clan and many of the Ventrues,” Spike hastily interrupted, thinking hard for a reasonable explanation for the three of them to be in San Diego. “So this isn’t exactly the norm for us. . . .” He pointed first at himself and then at Connor. “To be chaperones, but there wasn’t anyone else available.”
“Oh.” Faith shrugged. “I guess that makes sense.”
A grin hid the slight exhaling of breath, as Spike sighed in relief, while Connor looked on in admiration. He had never been able to lie so well on the spur of the moment.
“Anyway, since the three of you are here then, maybe you can help with a small problem.”
“Problem?” Djoser spoke for the first time. “I didn’t come here to solve your problems. I came here to. . . .”
“I know why you’re here,” Faith said, her expression revealing nothing, so no one could tell whether she approved or disapproved of the date between her protégé and the vampire. “And you needn’t worry. We’ve got a fun placed picked out to go to. You’ll enjoy it, I’m sure.”
**
Head pounding from the constant reverberations ringing in his ears, Djoser wondered how much longer he could stand the torture. Standing on the crowded dance floor, he tried to move his body like the others around him, but he felt awkward and graceless. This was his first experience in a modern-day nightclub.
Temper rising, he wondered if he could just walk out and go home. The evening, so far had been a total waste. He had had no chance to speak privately with Dana, and with the decibel level in the club, he saw no possibility for a talk in the future. Seeing Spike dance by, sipping something from a glass with a small umbrella, only made his mood blacker. Irrationally he wanted to blame the disastrous night on his younger brother.
Growling softly, he made a grab for Spike. “I’ve had enough; let’s go back to LA.”
“What, mate?” Spike yelled at the top of his lungs, pretending he couldn’t hear over the music. “You want another drink? Gotcha.”
Watching his brother dance off to the bar, Djoser tightened his fists feeling even more sorry for himself. It didn’t make him feel any better that Spike was totally comfortable in this environment. Looking around, he saw Connor, dancing and laughing with Faith; he, too looked happy and at ease. Muttering curses under his breath, he pictured an image of knocking his brothers’ heads together. It made him feel slightly better.
**
Several hours later a totally sober Djoser walked out of the club with five intoxicated companions, all who were laughing uproariously over something that in his opinion was inane and not very funny.
“Wait, wait, wait.” Faith suddenly stopped in her tracks. “You guys have to help us with something.” Alcohol affected her speech, as her words ran together.
“We don’t have time,” Djoser barked back. His only thought was to return to LA and forget the evening had ever happened.
“It won’t take long,” Faith slurred, as she tripped over a crack in the parking lot. “Just want you to take a look-see around the Holy Cross Catholic Cemetery.”
“Why?” Djoser’s dark brows drew down in a frown, while Spike’s liquor sloshed mind found the name of the cemetery familiar.
“Do I know the Holy Cross Catholic Cemetery?” he asked, which sent Faith, Connor, and Matt into peals of laughter.
Watching the four drunks, Djoser could only shake his head, while a hand crept around his upper arm.
“The cemetery isn’t far,” Dana informed him, as she pointed north. “We can walk there within fifteen minutes.”
Looking down at the young woman beside him, Djoser realized that she wasn’t as inebriated as the others. He could still hear the others’ laughter as they stumbled around behind him. Putting his hand over hers, he found the physical contact surprisingly pleasant. The night was finally starting to show some promise.
**
The Holy Cross Catholic Cemetery and Mausoleum of San Diego
The walk to the cemetery took a scant ten minutes, as Djoser found himself stepping through the graveyard’s gates. Looking behind him, his brothers and company were valiantly keeping up despite their condition.
“So what exactly am I supposed to see here?” Djoser asked and then wanted to kick himself. He had hundreds of other questions he wanted to ask Dana, and the one that spilled out of his mouth was about business.
“Body parts.” Dana came straight to the point, as the two of them had come to a halt and were surveying their surroundings.
“Th-at’s right.” Faith lurched up to them. “Body parts, but not outer body parts but inner ones.”
“Inner body parts?” Spike asked, wondering what Faith was going on about, and then burst out laughing, as it occurred to him that inner body parts versus outer body parts was as funny as hell.
“Yeah.” Faith cracked up, not because she found anything funny, but just because Spike was laughing. “Yo-u, you,” she sputtered out between giggles, “know. The innards instead of the, the outards.”
Another round of laughter occurred at her made-up word outards, while Djoser could only watch and sigh. No wonder the Muslim religion forbade alcohol.
“There’s been reports of missing people, and their trails have all led here to the cemetery.” Dana finally decided to jump in and explain. “But nothing is every found, except inner pieces of bodies: hearts, livers, spleens, but nothing else. No heads, legs, arms. So we were wondering, what kind of demon or beast steals bodies, but leaves the entrails?”
Moments passed, as a dozen or more demons flashed through Djoser’s mind; all of which liked to collect human bodies. “The ones I’m familiar with are usually interested in the insides, and perhaps the head but usually have no interest in the torso and limbs.”
“Right,” Faith agreed. “That’s what our research found, and so we can’t figure out, who or what is interested in the outsides of bodies and not the insides.”
Seconds of silence as the group contemplated, and then Spike spoke up with a brilliant idea. “A mad scientist.” Which, of course, caused another round of hysterical laughter.
Sighing again, Djoser sniffed the air, and found the unmistakable odors of blood and decay. “Let’s see if we can find anything,” he mumbled, as he turned and started to follow the scents.
“Okay, mates.” Spike began lifting his knees high, as he imitated a marching soldier. “Follow the leader.”
It was mere minutes before Djoser found the source of smells he had been tracking, piles of human organs were strewn around the blood-soaked ground.
“Bloody hell!” Spike spoke for the group, as the six stood and stared at the gruesome sight.
“So any ideas?” Faith asked, speech clearer, as the fresh air and the reality of death began reversing the alcoholic high she had been on.
Shaking his head, Djoser was stymied, when movement caught his eye. Looking up, he saw a decayed figure lumbering toward them, and suddenly everything was clear. “The monsters who caused this are right here.” He pointed to the figure, who was quickly being joined by others of its kind. “Zombies.”
“Zombies!” five voices exclaimed in unison.
“I’ve know what a zombie is,” Connor announced proudly. “It’s an undead thing, that’s slow-moving, dimwitted and craves human flesh. They shouldn’t be a problem for us.”
“They can be if here’s hundreds of them,” Djoser said with alarm, as the graveyard started to swarm with zombies, and more were coming up from the ground. “Let’s go!” he shouted, as he grabbed Dana’s hand and began to run.
Unfortunately the route out of the cemetery was blocked, so the group turned and ran in the only other direction they could, the one where there were less monsters.
“In here.” Djoser’s sharp eyes had found a large tomb. Leading the others to the entrance, they found it locked. “All together now,” he ordered, as two vampires, two slayers, and a pure Blood-Childe put their muscles into breaking down a wrought-iron, hard oak crypt door.
“They’re getting closer,” Matt warned, as he watched the mass of zombies advancing toward them. “Hurry!” he exclaimed, backing up a step. The monsters were just about in arm’s reach.
The door finally gave in and the six scrambled in slamming the door in the zombies’ faces. A flurry of activity as all them quickly barricaded the door with coffins, rocks, and whatever else was found within the crypt.
“Okay,” Faith huffed breathlessly. “I think we’ve secured the door the best we can.” Pausing a moment, she listened to the thud of hands hitting the outside of the tomb. It was a frightening sound.
“Feels like we’re in the middle of a George Romero movie.” Bent over with hands on knees, Matt was also gasping for breath. “Now all we need is for their hands to start reaching in.”
The words had just left his mouth, when a hand suddenly broke through a small opening, causing everyone to jump, except Djoser, who pulled out a short sword hidden in his boot. In one rapid, smooth movement he cut the hand from its body.
“Jesus Christ!” Faith swore, as they watched the hand squirm and wiggle around the ground. It still have life. “Matt, in a few words as possible, tell us quickly: what are the zombie’s weak spots, and how do we kill them?”
“I know that!” Connor raised his hand. “The way to kill a zombie is to stop its brain activity. Cut off it's head, smash it's skull, which usually isn’t difficult because they're slow and stupid. They’re not hard to beat, unless, of course. . . .” He bent down slightly to peer through the hole the zombie’s arm had made. “There’s hundreds of them.”
“Okay, great. Who’s got any weapons, besides. . . .” Faith nodded at Djoser’s sword. “Him?”
Dana and Matt immediately pulled out a couple of wooden stakes. “One of these right through the head should do.” Faith strategized as she pulled out her stakes and handed one to Connor.
“By the time you got close enough to one to do that, you’d be taken down by hundreds of others.” Djoser peered again through hole, confirming that they were indeed surrounded by too-many-to-count zombies.
“One of you chaps have a mobile?” Spike asked, looking first at Faith, and then Dana and Matt. “Because zombies can also be taken out by fire. I think Nic with the two barbarian twins, each armed with a flame-thrower, should do the trick.”
“Cell phone. Cell phone.” Faith felt her jean’s pockets. “I didn’t bring mine. Figured since we were all going out together, it would be. . . .” She broke off as Matt handed her his. “Thank God!” Taking the phone, she flipped it open. “Okay, what’s the number over at your house. . .err, lair?”
“I’ll ring it up.” Spike grabbed the phone out of Faith’s hands. The last thing he wanted was her talking to Angel and telling him what was going on.
“Ok-ay.” Faith frowned in surprise as Spike’s sudden insistence. “I guess the phone number to your lair must be a guarded secret.”
“Right.” Spike turned his back on her, as he dialed the Los Angeles number. “Not for your eyes. Bloody hell!” He resisted the urge to hurl the phone to the ground. “No signal in here.”
“You have to go outside,” Dana stated matter-of-factly and then addressed Faith. “I told you we should have gone with the more nationwide phone company. Their signal is stronger.”
“You’ll have to step through the door.” Faith waved a hand at the crypt’s entrance, which now had a mountain of junk piled in front of it. “If we can hold them off long enough. . . .”
“The coffin,” Djoser interrupted. “Let’s fill it up with as much as we can find, and then if we use it like a battering ram, it should have enough force to clear the doorway.”
“Great plan.” Faith nodded her head in approval. “Me, Dana, and Matt will take the coffin, and then you and the kid. . . .” She looked over at Connor. “Can guard our backs.”
“Fine.” Djoser had no argument with the arrangement, as he handed his sword to Connor.
“I’ve got this,” Connor protested, as he held up the stake.
“And you’re going to trade with me,” Djoser said firmly. “As my younger brother, you need the better weapon.”
“Give that to me,” Spike broke in with a sigh, reaching for the sword. “Junior can help with the coffin, and you. . . .” He handed Matt the cell phone. “Can make the call.” Spike knew that Matt was the weak link of the group, and that his superior strength was needed for the fight. “But do me a favor, don’t ask for my Sire, ask for my uncle Nic.”
**
Lined up in front of Angel, the six of them could only hang their heads. A part of Faith kept protesting to herself that she, Dana, and Matt did not have to answer to Angel, so why were they standing there, while the vampire paced in front of them looking like he was going to blow up.
Djoser’s plan had worked. After beating back enough of the zombies, Matt had been able to get a message through to LA. The group then quickly retreated back into the crypt and waited for rescue. Precisely two hours later it arrived with Angel in the lead.
“Where were your bodyguards?” Angel stopped his pacing to stand in front of Djoser. “And when exactly did I give permission to take William and Connor with you?”
“It was my fault,” Spike spoke up quickly. “I. . . .”
“I Don’t Remember Asking You Anything, Boy!” Angel lashed out. “So keep your mouth shut!”
“Angel, listen.” Faith felt the need to say something. “This whole mess was my fault. I asked them. . . .”
“Be Quiet!” he broke in with snarl. “I don’t want to listen to any of your excuses. In fact, I don’t want to listen to anything any of you have to say right now. Get in the car.” He waved dismissively at his three sons. “And you.” He had one last thing to say to Faith. “You better find out who’s responsible for raising zombies here, because tonight might have been just the tip of the iceberg.”
**
“Sire.” Spike tentatively poked his head in their bedroom, half expecting a piece of furniture to be thrown at him. Angelus’ famous temper had exploded. Not only had his three heirs been put in perilous danger because of their stupidity, but the peace conference had been interrupted. Judelin, Dracula, the Elders, and the Tzmisce leaders all blamed him; he had looked the fool.
“Sire.” Spike slid through the door. “I brought you some dinner.” He held up a coffee mug of warmed blood.
“On your knees, boy. Crawl to me,” Angel growled out, temper still simmering.
For once, Spike didn’t have to be told twice. He immediately dropped to his knees and slowly began to approach Angel. Handing his Sire the mug, he remained respectfully silent.
After, what seemed like eternity to Spike, Angel finally spoke. “You will be punished. All of you. Our allies and the Tzmisces are demanding it, and I must prove to them that I still am Master of my Clan and Childer.”
“Yes, Sire.” Spike continued to be deferential. “But punish only me. Last night was my idea. Djoser only went along because I blackmailed him, and Connor didn’t know any better.”
“Djoser will be punished,” Angel said firmly, as he set down the coffee mug. His Childe’s unusual obedience, along with a full stomach had improved his temper. “He, being the oldest, should have known better, and if you manipulated him, then he most certainly deserves punishment for allowing that.”
Spike opened his mouth to protest, but Angel lifted a finger, motioning him to be silent. “Connor will be spared. He’s new to the household, and it’s quite easy to make the case, that he was mislead by his two older brothers.” Angel paused a moment and then continued. “You and Djoser will be lashed. I’ve allowed myself to go soft all these years, but not anymore.” As to add emphasis his face morphed, fangs dropping, demon emerging.
“Yes, Sire,” Spike said submissively, understanding that the leaders of both sides would expect and demand nothing less. He was at least relieved that Connor would not be punished.
“You and Djoser are getting along with Connor, no?”
Spike smiled to himself at the change of subject. The fact that they had included Connor in their escapade had certainly caught Angel’s attention. “That boy is a lot of fun,” he told his father truthfully. “I think he actually might be starting to accept his heritage.”
Staring out the window, Angel nodded ever so slightly, his stomach lurching with pleasure. Perhaps Connor would be his again. “You may go.” He flicked a hand at Spike, and then turned to watch his Childe crawl to the door.
“I’m thinking that after your punishment, I’ll have to be licking your wounds. Wouldn’t want any to get infected.”
Turning the door knob, Spike grinned widely, knowing Angel couldn’t see his face.
****
Finis