Page 39 of Missing Moon

“Out where?”

I point into the sky.

“With a bottle of water?”

“Okay, fine. Imightgo vampire hunting.”

“I need more than that, ma.”

I glance back at the house to make sure no one’s come to listen in on us, then whisper back, “I think there’s a clutch of vampires in the area who are, umm… over-feeding. The whole town feels on edge.”

“I got that feeling, too.” Tammy stuffs her hands in her pockets. “Want help?”

My initial instinct is to tell her to stay here and be safe. But I catch myself before saying that and actually think about the situation before responding.

“Sure… though right now, I’m only doing a scouting mission.” I look around at the woods, not quite liking the feeling I get from them. It’s not a sense of being watched, but it’s also not peaceful. “I think you might help more by staying here with Ant and playing defense. Got a feeling I’ve made us all targets last night.”

She rolls her eyes. “Oh, like that’s never happened before.”

I let out a weak laugh.

“Okay.” She nods. “I’ll let Ant know and we’ll stand guard here. Call us if you need backup.”

“Thanks.” I give her a quick hug before unfurling my wings and leaping into the air, patting my pocket to make sure my phone is there. It is.

Let the hunt begin…

***

Flying to downtown Klamath is much faster than driving.

Especially since whoever made the roads around here, particularly the dirt ones, was severely allergic to straight lines. Guess it was cheaper and less back-breaking to let the shape of the land dictate the course of the road.

It only takes me ten minutes to zoom there. Since there’s practically no one outside, it’s easy to find a landing spot free from prying eyes. I swoop down in the alley between Meg’s Coffee and the building that used to be an ice cream shop when I was a kid. Now, it’s a Wendy’s.

Now, I’ve got some vampires to find.

With little to go on, I do the most obvious thing first and start wandering. Each time I spot a missing person poster that someone hung up on a telephone pole, tree, or building, I pause to touch it and try to get a psychic read. Only twice do I experience a sudden sensation. They’re brief, but the notion that those two people are dead is strong. I’m not sure whether I should be frustrated or relieved that the other ten posters didn’t make me feel anything at all.

I’m maybe an hour into this project when I spot the next unique face on a ‘have you seen me’ poster. It’s a boy of about eight. I hesitate, dreading the probability that when I touch this paper I’ll feel like someone killed him. After a moment or two, I summon the nerve to touch all five fingertips to the boy’s face.

Chicago.

Huh?

I’m thinking of Chicago. I tilt my head, trying to squeeze something more from the psychic ether. The boy’s in Chicago. I see a small house in the city. Older couple with him. No sense of fear, just sadness. Right as I start to think he’s possibly a victim of parental kidnapping and currently with non-custodial grandparents, acrunchbreaks the tomblike silence of downtown Klamath.

The noise, quiet as it was, is enough to break my concentration on the poster.

Someone is walking up behind me… and they’ve stopped moving after stepping on a little rock or whatever scraped the sidewalk under their foot. It might be nothing. Sure, the entire town is hiding inside at night, but there’s always that one guy who ignores the warnings and goes out anyway. Simply being outside past eleven isn’t proof they’re anything dangerous.

I lower my hand from the poster. Need a way to translate psychic into reality. What better way than Detective Sherbet? He knows my weirdness. I pull my phone out and call him.Alas, it goes to voicemail. Not surprised. If he’s not on an active investigation, he’s usually asleep by this hour. He’s getting older. Won’t be too much longer before he retires. Hmm. Should I try to befriend his understudy and let the guy in on the crazy? It’s really damn helpful to have someone on the inside who I can talk to in plain truth.

Anyway, I leave him a voicemail with the details of the boy and that my psychic intuition tells me he’s in Chicago with two older people who are most likely grandparents or somehow related to him. That ought to be enough of a lead for the police to find him. All I can do is hope the sense of sadness I felt was the boy missing his actual parents who should have him because he was taken away… and not because they died to the vampires here.

Another scrape happens behind me. Rubber on pavement. The sound is so soft most people wouldn’t have noticed it. I note it but don’t react. My ears tell me the person following me is about fifteen paces back and not gaining ground. From the weight and timing of the steps, I’m sure it’s a man. Inner alarm is not going off. I’m not too worried. Meanwhile, I make a right turn at the next corner. Sure enough, my shadow makes the same turn.

Pretty obvious he’s following me now.

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