“I was just going out for coffee,” said Austin as he looked at the carnage surrounding him.
Coffee with the crossword puzzle, and a little bit of fresh air sounded good. Then Dave, who lived three houses down called to him as he waked by, “Hey, Austin, there’s something weird in my basement. Take a look.”
Austin was both a history professor and a general contractor specializing in historic restorations, so of course he’d check it out. Dave lived in the oldest house on that street, built in 1888. It was a fantastic small Queen Anne, painted shades of blue and cream. Dave led the way to the back of the dark space to an oblong box.
“I was measuring the room and moved away some lumber that had been here since I moved in and found this,” said Dave. “It looks like a coffin. Do you think I should call someone?”
“Let me take a look. I’ve found these before,” said Austin, taking out his penknife. He slid the knife around the edges of the box to see if there was a latch or any loose spots.
Then all Hell broke loose. Two men, dressed in long black coats, carrying guns and large knives appeared at the door.
“Hey,” yelled Dave. “Get the fuck outta here. I told you guys to stay away from my house. I’m calling 911. I warned you.” Then he turned to Austin. “The bastards were out last week. I told them…”
The men moved closer. Dave continued, “Out NOW.” Dave was a medium sized silver haired average family guy his mid fifties, with some sort of upper management job with the Department of Water Resources. His wife was wife away on a girl’s weekend. His kids were away at college. He’d been working on making the basement into the ultimate man cave over the past few weekends. He wasn’t in the mood for Vampire Hunters.
“Damn it. I said GET OUT you crazies,” Dave yelled.
“Just let us have the box,” said one of the men, a tall shaggy haired guy with some sort of unidentifiable accent.
Austin took a step forward, getting between Dave and the vampire hunters. “No can do guys. You have to go.”
The other man, a bald guy with huge shoulders pointed a gun at Austin and Dave. “Move aside gentlemen.” He then shoved them out of the way and with a swift kick popped open the box.
Inside was the perfectly preserved body of a woman in an old fashioned lace dress. She looked as though she was made of fine leather. A bunch of dried roses were in her hand.
The shaggy haired man lifted a huge wooden stake. Dave and Austin both yelled, “NO.”
Dave jumped on the back of the bald man. Austin knocked the shaggy haired man out of the way.
Suddenly a blinding flash of light and a blast of cold air knocked them to the wall. Two more men appeared at the door, also in black but without the coats. One carried a knife, and the other a whip. The smiled, showing fangs.
“Holy shit,” whispered Dave.
The vampires grabbed the men in the black coats by the scruff of their necks, like small children, and threw them back out into the sunlight. One of the vampires uttered a string of long strange sounding words, and the vampire hunters ran down the street.
The woman in the coffin sat up, and moved her head around.
“Stiff neck?” Austin asked.
She looked at him, surprised. Then she smiled with a slight show of her own fangs. “Yes, thanks for the concern. How long did I sleep?”
“From the looks of your dress, maybe ninety years,” said Austin.
“I guess I missed that party then,” she said with a slight laugh.
“This is too weird,” said Dave as he got up, and crossed the room. He turned on the overhead shop lights and got a good look at his company. “You mean to tell me you’ve been in that box for ninety years?”
The woman just blinked against the light. The two Vampires stood out of the shadows.
“Hey, Austin,” said one of them. “I thought that was you.”
“Pierce,” said Austin. “I had no idea you were a vampire. Small world. Dave, this is Pierce, he guest lectures for me sometimes on nineteenth California government issues.”
“And this is Max, he…”
“Max,” said Austin as he held out his hand. “Good to see you. Thanks for helping out.”
“Austin,” said Max.
Dave looked at the Vampires then laughed. “Pierce. I know you. You were teaching American History at UC Berkley in the late 70’s. I took a couple of classes from you. You look like you haven’t aged a day. How old are you?”
Pierce smiled and shook Dave’s hand. “I’m 171, but who’s counting.”
“I was just going out for coffee,” said Austin as he looked at the carnage surrounding him. “You’re all welcome to come.”
The woman’s name is Lily. She had a lot of catching up to do so Dave gave her a pair of jeans and a shirt out of his wife’s closet, and they all headed out for coffee.