Page 44 of Sinistram
“There have been rumors of religious groups collaborating with vampires for a long time,” she said finally. “I’m surprised Travis hasn’t heard about them.”
“I’ve heard of some,” Travis chimed in. “But nothing recent or quite like what might be happening.”
“Hmm,” Chiara said, and Brent imagined her reaching for one of her research books. “Sometimes it was a local truce—don’t eat our parishioners and we won’t stake you. In other cases, there were mayors, governors, even a king or two who tried to recruit powerful vampires as bodyguards or partners in crime. It’s usually offering protection in exchange for keeping other immortal threats at bay. Vampires don’t need us to amass wealth, but they don’t survive long when they try to wield direct power. The whole power-behind-the-throne angle has an appeal.
“As far as taking over a religious organization, there would be obstacles,” Chiara speculated. “Not sure how they’d get around actually handling the sacred items like relics and holy water or holding mass. Those are deal-breakers for vamps.”
She paused. “I’ve also heard that some of the ‘doomsday prepper’ folks have approached vampires about turning them if the apocalypse happens. I’m not sure why anyone would want to survive that, let alone become unable to die, but those folks don’t usually make a lot of sense.”
“Thank you,” Brent agreed. “If you hear anything else, give me a call. And watch your back.”
“Will do,” she promised.
Brent ended the call and turned to Travis. “Do you think the upper echelon at the Sinistram would collaborate with vampires? And if they’ve been preparing for the world to end, would that change their game plan?”
“I took orders from them, but I was just one of their soldiers,” Travis replied. “I wasn’t privy to their secrets, and I didn’t know the elders at all. Everyone in the organization was a priest, at least at one time. I guess it’s possible that some were turned later and could avoid the sacred functions as part of management. It never occurred to me to wonder.”
“Still a long shot,” Brent cautioned. “And it doesn’t explain how individual vampires could get away with not being caught. Could they handle holy stuff if they wore special gloves? They’d almost have to…” his voice drifted off as the enormity and horror of the possibility hit him.
“Take over the whole thing? Purge the regular humans and replace them with vampires?” Travis looked shell-shocked. “Yeah, I thought about that, too. Sounds crazy, but so do a lot of things that end up being true.”
Travis and Brent took their dinner in Travis’s apartment, and then Travis excused himself to make the rounds with Jon. He needed to check in with Matthew about clinic utilization, meet new residents, and spend a few minutes chatting with any of the halfway house folks who wanted his attention.
While Travis saw to the business of running the shelter, Brent made a fresh pot of coffee and settled in to scour what he thought of as the advance warning system. In reality, it was the tabloids dedicated to news of the weird, online sites for amateur monster trackers, and sensational chat boards for people who watched far too muchScooby-Dooas children.
Most of the discussion was utter dreck, with young men trying to top each other’s made-up stories or attention-seekers giving their imaginations free rein. But now and then, tucked in among the ridiculousness, people actually had real run-ins with the supernatural.
He skimmed past the “Sasquatch ate my dog” reports, glossed over the vanishing hitchhiker stories, and ignored the UFO sightings.
Many of the stories repeated familiar tales, one write-up barely different from another. Brent suspected the posters had fun spinning their stories and reacting to the comments. Then one of the items caught his eye.
“That’s different,” he murmured. He chugged some coffee and settled in to read. When Travis returned an hour later, Brent was ready. “I’ve found us a new case that might be related.”
Travis looked curious and slightly amused. “Hit me with the details,” He poured a cup of coffee and sat across from Brent.
“Ever hear of the town of Livermore?” Brent asked.
Travis shook his head. “Nope.”
“How about the Conemaugh River Lake?”
“Maybe. Why?”
“Livermore was razed and flooded as part of the project to make the dam,” Brent said. “There are a surprising number of old coal, timber, and railroad towns that got knocked down and covered with water when all the dams were built. Livermore just comes with more lore than most.”
“Yeah?” Travis took a long gulp of hot coffee and savored the moment. Brent knew that while Travis tried hard to show his support and concern for St. Dismas’s residents, the sheer volume of need often left him exhausted.
“The official record says that the town was badly damaged after several floods, which is part of why the dam was built there,” Brent told him. “There were other factors as well—I’ll spare you those details—but the dam seemed like the best alternative at the time. By the time they cleared the land, not many people were left to relocate. That’s where the stories get interesting.”
Brent warmed to the subject. “Some of them say that the town was flooded intact, but the buildings were actually torn down first. The cemetery, which isn’t underwater, is said to be very haunted.”
“That’s interesting, but where’s the case?” Travis asked. The back-and-forth was a familiar pattern, banter that both of them enjoyed.
“They say the lake is haunted by the ghost of a witch who lures people to their death,” Brent replied. “Supposedly, she was a stubborn old lady who told fortunes and refused to leave when they cleared everyone else out, or she snuck back in afterward, the stories differ. Point being, she didn’t leave when the waters rose and drowned. She cursed the builders of the dam and vowed that she would stay forever.”
“Did she? Haunt the lake?” Travis took another gulp, and Brent could see how tired his friend was in the set of his shoulders.
“According to the urban legends, yes,” Brent said. “There have been a series of unfortunate accidents since the lake was created. Boats capsized and the pilots drowned, that sort of thing. Probably happens at every lake, but the stories people told said that the ghostly form of a woman was seen nearby right before the tragedy, and that she could be heard wailing.”
