Vampire

Vampire

Norman Gandell shot up in bed at once when a high-pitched buzzing sound split the silence.

His eyes tore wildly around the room, expecting his very worst fear, but no one was there.

Then he realized it was just the phone.

Angrily, Norman ripped the sheets off his legs and wrenched the receiver off its place on his bed stand, still ringing off its hook as if it were impatient for someone to pick it up.

"Hello?" he growled into the dispatching end.

"Hello? Norman ? Is that you?"

With a sigh, Norman recognized the frantic voice of his work partner, Joe Foney.

"What do you want, Joe?"

"Thank God it's you, Norman . I haven't heard your voice in ages!"

Norman was confused by the relief in his old friend's voice. "Well, there haven't been any sightings around town in three weeks. What do you expect?"

" No, Norm, you've got to come in. The office is haywire-everyone's running around like it's the end of the world or something."

"What are you talking about?" Norman groaned with a glance at the clock. "Joe, it's six a.m. Why don't you get back into bed and call me later. I really need to sleep, and I think you do, too."

He made to hang up the phone, but Joe's desperate voice kept him from doing so.

"No! Norm, please come down here. We need a lot of help around here. You've got to listen-there's been a major spotting in Greenland , up by Nord."

" Greenland?" Norman exclaimed. "What does Greenland have to do with us? We're in England for God sakes! If they've spotted another vampire all the way up there, can't they track it for themselves, without waking England up at six a.m.?"

Joe was silent for a moment, and all Norman could hear on the other end of the phone was his low, rasped breathing.

" I don't know, Norman." he said slowly, "Pete just told me to get you over here. I'm at headquarters. Boss says we need you here, and I'm just doing my job. I can't tell you anymore, but the situation will be explained to you the moment you arrive, I promise."

Norman growled. He thought he could hear his wife stirring in her sleep beside him. He lowered his voice to a whisper.

"I'll be there in fifteen minutes. You owe me, Joe."

"Never give favors, do you?"

Norman laughed; already he was getting out of bed and pulling on some pants and a long-sleeved, button-up white shirt.

"See you at the office, man."

" Sorry to wake you."

Norman hung up. The phone clashed into its stand a little too harshly, and instantly Jane Gandell was awake, flinging her long red hair over her back and looking around warily through suspicious blue eyes.

"Leaving already, Hon?" she asked, her voice drained.

"Yeah. Urgent spotting at the office." he said grimly, adjusting his tie around his lapel.

"Not another vampire?" Mrs. Gandell groaned, sitting up in bed. Norman knew he had not imagined the distressed worry in her voice.

"In Greenland ."

She sounded startled. "How is this England's problem?"

"That's what I asked Joe, but he wouldn't spill. I suppose I'll let you know tonight."

"If they don't send you out on another malicious vampire hunt!"

The fear in her voice was much more prominent now, and Norman was at her side in an instant, planting a warm kiss on her cheek.

"When have I ever been bitten?" he asked, trying to make his smile touch his eyes. "And I've been hunting vampires since I was sixteen."

This seemed to comfort her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and breathed in his scent deeply. Their embrace lasted only a moment before Jane broke it.

"At least let me make you some coffee." she urged.

Norman shook his head. "I'm running late already….you go back to bed." he took a quick check at himself in the mirror and ran long fingers through his chaotic brown hair.

"I love you!" he said with a flourish as he swiped his briefcase from the chair and hurried out the door. "Tell the kids hi for me!"

He paused at his two sons' door as he swept down the hall; the little boys' slow, steady breathing put him at ease.

His sleek black Coupe waited for him in the driveway as always; it was three weeks new and Norman loved it because its mileage was better than his last car's, plus it held a sturdy drive all along the road to the Headquarters of Vampirism Prevention, or HVP as he liked to call it.

Norman turned the heater up, smashed the key into the ignition and pumped on the gas pedal.

Instantaneously the car roared to life, sending a jet of silver smoke gushing from the exhaust pipe that glittered like cobwebs in the breezy October air.

He drew up his jacket, letting his muscles relax as the heat escaped from the vent.