With shaking fingers he jabbed at his throat. He hacked. The blood ran through his fingers.
"Count! Count!" he cried in frenzied joy. "Drink my red blood! Drink me! Drink me!"
He stumbled over the tin cans and slipped and felt for the bat. It sprang from the wood and soared across the shack and fastened itself on the other side.
Tears ran down Jules's cheeks.
He gritted his teeth. The blood ran across his shoulders and across his thin hairless chest.
His body shook in fever. He staggered back toward the other side. He tripped and felt his side torn open on the sharp edge of a tin can.
His hands went out. They clutched the bat. He placed it against his throat. He sank on his back on the cool wet earth. He sighed.
He started to moan and clutch at his chest. His stomach heaved. The black bat on his neck silently lapped his blood.
Jules felt his life seeping away.
He thought of all the years past. The waiting. His parents. School. Dracula. Dreams. For this. This sudden glory.
Jules's eyes flickered open.
The inside of the reeking shack swam about him.
It was hard to breathe. He opened his mouth to gasp in the air. He sucked it in. It was foul. It made him cough. His skinny body lurched on the cold ground.
Mists crept away in his brain.
One by one like drawn veils.
Suddenly his mind was filled with terrible clarity.
He felt the aching pain in his side.
He knew he was lying half naked on garbage and letting a flying bat drink his blood.
With a strangled cry, he reached up and tore away the furry throbbing bat. He flung it away from him. It came back, fanning his face with its vibrating wings.
Jules staggered to his feet.
He felt for the door. He could hardly see. He tried to stop his throat from bleeding so.
He managed to get the door open.
Then, lurching into the dark yard, he fell on his face in the long grass blades.
He tried to call out for help.
But no sounds save a bubbling mockery of words came from his lips.
He heard the fluttering wings.
Then, suddenly they were gone.
Strong fingers lifted him gently. Through dying eyes Jules saw the tall dark man whose eyes shone like rubies.
"My son," the man said.
Swish swish swish
All set, Sergeant?
Set.
Okay. This recording made on January fifteenth, nineteen fifty-four, twenty-third precinct police… '
Swish
… in the presence of Detective James Taylor and, uh, Sergeant Louis Ferazzio.
Swish swish
Name, please.
Huh?
What's your name, son?
My name?
Come on, son, we're trying to help you.
Swish
L-Leo.
Last name.
I d-don't… Leo.
What's your last name, son?
Vo… Vo…
All right, son. Take it easy.
V-Vogel.
Leo Vogel. That it?
Yeah.
Address?
T-twenny two thirty, avena J.
Age?
I'm… almost… Where's… my ma?
Swish swish
Turn it off a minute, Sergeant.
Right.
Click
Click
Swish
All right, son. Okay now?
Y-yeah. But where…?
You're how old?
Fi-fifteen.
Now, uh, where were you last night from six o'clock till you went home?
I was… at… at the show. Ma give… give me the dough.
How come you didn't stay home to watch television with your parents?
'Cause. Because…
Yes?
The Le-Lenottis was comin' over to watch it with them.
They came often?
N-no. It was the first time they'd… ever come.
Uh-huh. So your mother sent you to the movies.
Y-yeah.
Sergeant, give the kid some of that coffee. And see if you can him find a blanket.
Right away, chief
Now, uh, son. What time did you get out of the movies?
Time? I… don't know what time.
About nine-thirty, would you say?
I guess. I don't know… w-what time. All I…
Yes?
Nothin'.
Well, you saw the show only once, didn't you?
Swish
Huh?
You saw it only once. You didn't see any picture twice, did you?
No. No, I only seen it once.
Okay. That would make it, uh…
Swish
… roughly about nine-thirty, then, that you got out of the movies. You went home right away?
Yeah… I mean no.
Where did you stop?
I had a Coke at the… at the drugstore.
I see. Then you went home.
Ye-
Swish.
… yeah, then I went home.
The house was dark?
Yeah. But… they never used no lights when they watched TV.
Uh-huh. You went in?
Y-yeah.
Take a sip of that coffee, son, before it gets cold. Take it easy, take it easy. Don't choke on it. There. Okay?
Yeah.
All right then. Now… oh, good. Put it over his shoulders, Sergeant. There we go. Better?
Mmmm
Okay. Let's get on with it. And believe me, son, this is no more fun for us than it is for you. We saw it too.
I want mama. I want her. Please, can I…
Oh. What did I… well, shut it off, Sergeant. Here kid. You don't have a handkerchief, do you? Here. Did you shut it off, Sergeant?
Oh. Right away.
Swish click
Click
When you went in, was there anything… peculiar?
What?
You told us last night you smelled something.
Yeah. It… it… There was a funny smell.
Anything you know?
Huh?
Did it smell like anything you ever smelled before?
No. It wasn't much. Not in the… hall.
All right. So you went into the living room.
No. No. I went… Ma. Can I…
Swish swish
Come on, son, snap out of it. We know you've had a bad time. But we're trying to help.
Swish swish swish
You, uh, didn't go in the living room. Didn't you think you should mention that smell?
I… h-heard the set on and…
Set?
The TV set. I thought-I figured they were still watchin'.
And?
And ma didn't like me to… b-bust in on them. So I went up to my room so's I wouldn't… you know.
Bother them.
Y-yeah.
Okay. How long were you up there?
I was… I don't know how long. Maybe an hour.
And?
There… wasn't no sound downstairs.
Nothing at all?
No. There wasn't nothing at all.
Didn't that make you suspicious?
Yeah. Well, I figured… they'd… laugh at somethin' or talk loud or…
Dead quiet.
Yeah. Dead quiet.
Did you go down then?
L-later I went. I was goin' to bed. I figured I…
You wanted to say goodnight.
Yeah. I…
Swish
You went down and opened the living room door?
Yeah, I… yeah.
What did you see?
I… I… Oh, can't ya… I want my ma. Lemme alone. I want her!
Kid! Hold him, Sergeant. Take it easy!
Swish swish
I'm sorry, kid. Did it hurt? I had to calm you. I know…how you feel, Leo. We saw it too. We feel sick and… awful too.
Swish
Just a few more questions and we'll take you to your aunt's. Now first. The television set. Was it on?
Yeah. It was on.
And you… smelled something?
Yeah. Like in the hall. Only worse. Only lots worse.
That smell.
That smell. Dead. A dead stink. Like a pile o' dead… dead… I don't know. Garbage. Piles of it.
No one was talking?
No, there was no thin'. 'Cept the TV.
What was on it?
I already told ya.
I know, I know. Tell us again. For the record.
It was… like I said…just them letters. Great big letters.
What were they?
F… uh… F-E-E-D.
F-E-E-D?
Y-yeah. Big crooked-like letters.
You'd seen them before?
Yeah. I told ya. They was on our set all the time… Not all the time. Plenty though.
Your parents never wondered about it?
No. They said… they figured it was a sort of commercial. You know.
But the things you saw.
I don't know. Ma said… it was for kids. Some, I mean.
What-did you see?
Swish swish swish
Sort of… mouths. Big ones. Wide. Open, all open. They wasn't p-people.
Swish
What did it look like? I mean, couldn't you tell what it was?
No. I mean… they was like… bugs, maybe, or maybe… w-worms. Big ones. All mouths. Wide open.
All right.
Swish
You, uh, said the letters flashed on, then off and you saw the… mouths, and then the letters again?
Yeah. Like that.
This happen every night?
Yeah.
Same time?
No. Different times.
Between programs?
No. Anytime.
Was it always on the same channel?
No. All different ones. No matter which one we had… we seen them.
And…
I wanna go. Can't I… Ma! Where is she? I want her. I want her.
Swish click
Click
A few more questions, Leo, and that's it. Now, you said your parents never had the set checked.
No, I told you. They thought it was-
All right.
Swish
You went in the living room. You said something about slipping, didn't you?
Yeah. On that stuff.
What stuff?
I don't know. Greasy stuff. Like hot grease. It stunk awful.
And then you… you found…
Swish
I found them. Ma. And Pa. And the Lenottis. They was… Ohhh, I wanna…
Leo! What about the set, Leo? What about it?
Huh, what?
The picture on the set. You said something about it.
I, yeah… I…
It was the letters, wasn't it, Leo?
Yeah, yeah. Them letters. Them big crooked letters. They was up there. On the set. I seen them. And… and…
What?
One of the E's. It kinda… faded. It went away. And… and…
What, Leo?
The other letters. They come together. So… so there was only three.
And it was a word.
Swish swish swish
Take him to his aunt, Sergeant.
And the tube went black…
All right, Leo. The sergeant'll take you ho-to your aunt's.
I turned on the lights.
All right, Leo.
I turned on the light! Ma! MAMA!
Click
Outside, night, pouring rain-war weather. Inside, toasty warm. Seven overalled little girls chatting. Plaque on the wall saying: P.G. CENTER. Sky clearing its throat with thunder, picking and dropping lint lightning from immeasurable shoulders. Rain hushing the world, bowing the trees, pocking earth. Square building, low, with one wall plastic. Inside, the buzzing talk of seven pretty little girls. "So I say to him-'Don't give me that, Mr. High and Mighty.' So he says, 'Oh yeah?' And I say, 'Yeah!' "
"Honest, will I ever be glad when this thing's over. I saw the cutest hat on my last furlough. Oh, what I wouldn't give to wear it!"
"You too? Don't I
know
it! You just can't get your hair right.
Not in
this
weather. Why don't they let us get rid of it?"
"Men!
They make me sick." Seven gestures, seven postures, seven laughter’s ringing thin beneath thunder. Teeth showing in girl giggles. Hands tireless, painting pictures in the air.
P.G. Centre. Girls. Seven of them. Pretty. Not one over sixteen. Curls. Pigtails. Bangs. Pouting little lips-smiling, frowning, shaping emotion on emotion. Sparkling young eyes- glittering, twinkling, narrowing, cold or warm.
Seven healthy young bodies restive on wooden chairs. Smooth adolescent limbs. Girls-pretty girls-seven of them.
An army of ugly shapeless men, stumbling in mud, struggling along the pitch black muddy road.
Rain a torrent. Buckets of it thrown on each exhausted man. Sucking sound of great boots sinking into oozy yellow-brown mud, pulling loose. Mud dripping from heels and soles.
Plodding men-hundreds of them-soaked, miserable, depleted. Young men bent over like old men. Jaws hanging loosely, mouth gasping at black wet air, tongues lolling, sunken eyes looking at nothing, betraying nothing.
Rest.
Men sink down in the mud, fall on their packs. Heads thrown back, mouths open, rain splashing on yellow teeth. Hands immobile-scrawny heaps of flesh and bone. Legs without motion-khaki lengths of worm-eaten wood. Hundreds of useless limbs fixed to hundreds of useless trunks.
In back, ahead, beside, rumble trucks and tanks and tiny cars. Thick tires splattering mud. Fat treads sinking, tearing at mucky slime. Rain drumming wet fingers on metal and canvas.
Lightning flashbulbs without pictures. Momentary burst of light. The face of war seen for a second-made of rusty guns and turning wheels and faces staring.
Blackness. A night hand blotting out the brief storm glow. Windblown rain flitting over fields and roads, drenching trees and trucks. Rivulets of bubbly rain tearing scars from the earth. Thunder, lightning.
A whistle. Dead men resurrected. Boots in sucking mud again-deeper, closer, nearer. Approach to a city that bars the way to a city that bars the way to a…
An officer sat in the communication room of the P.G. Centre. He peered at the operator, who sat hunched over the control board, phones over his ears, writing down a message.
The officer watched the operator. They are coming, he thought. Cold, wet and afraid they are marching at us. He shivered and shut his eyes.
He opened them quickly. Visions fill his darkened pupils- of curling smoke, flaming men, unimaginable horrors that shape themselves without words or pictures.
"Sir," said the operator, "from advance observation post. Enemy forces sighted."
The officer got up, walked over to the operator and took the message. He read it, face blank, mouth parenthesized. "Yes," he said.
He turned on his heel and went to the door. He opened it and went into the next room. The seven girls stopped talking. Silence breathed on the walls.
The officer stood with his back to the plastic window. "Enemies," he said, "two miles away. Right in front of you."
He turned and pointed out the window. "Right out there. Two miles away. Any questions?"
A girl giggled.
"Any vehicles?" another asked.
"Yes. Five trucks, five small command cars, two tanks."
"That's too easy," laughed the girl, slender fingers fussing with her hair.
"That's all," said the officer. He started from the room. "Go to it," he added and, under his breath, "Monsters!"
He left.
"Oh, me," sighed one of the girls, "here we go again."
"What a bore," said another. She opened her delicate mouth and plucked out chewing gum. She put it under her chair seat.
"At least it stopped raining," said a redhead, tying her shoelaces.
The seven girls looked around at each other.
Are you ready?
said their eyes.
I'm ready, I suppose.
They adjusted themselves on the chairs with girlish grunts and sighs. They hooked their feet around the legs of their chairs. All gum was placed in storage. Mouths were tightened into prudish fixity. The pretty little girls made ready for the game.
Finally they were silent on their chairs. One of them took a deep breath. So did another. They all tensed their milky flesh and clasped fragile fingers together. One quickly scratched her head to get it over with. Another sneezed prettily.
"Now," said a girl on the right end of the row.
Seven pairs of beady eyes shut. Seven innocent little minds began to picture, to visualize, to transport.
Lips rolled into thin gashes, faces drained of colour, bodies shivered passionately. Their fingers twitching with concentration, seven pretty little girls fought a war.
The men were coming over the rise of a hill when the attack came. The leading men, feet poised for the next step, burst into flame.
There was no time to scream. Their rifles slapped down into the muck, their eyes were lost in fire. They stumbled a few steps and fell, hissing and charred, into the soft mud.
Men yelled. The ranks broke. They began to throw up their weapons and fire at the night. More troops puffed incandescently, flared up, were dead.
"Spread out!" screamed an officer as his gesturing fingers sprouted flame and his face went up in licking yellow heat.
The men looked everywhere. Their dumb terrified eyes searched for an enemy. They fired into the fields and woods. They shot each other. They broke into flopping runs over the mud.
A truck was enveloped in fire. Its driver leaped out, a two-legged torch. The truck went bumping over the road, turned, wove crazily over the field, crashed into a tree, exploded and was eaten up in blazing light. Black shadows flitted in and out of the aura of light around the flames. Screams rent the night.
Man after man burst into flame, fell crashing on his face in the mud. Spots of searing light lashed the wet darkness- screams-running coals, sputtering, glowing, dying-incendiary ranks-trucks cremated-tanks blowing up.
A little blonde, her body tense with repressed excitement. Her lips twitch, a giggle hovers in her throat. Her nostrils dilate. She shudders in giddy fright. She imagines, imagines…
…
A soldier runs headlong across a field, screaming, his eyes insane with horror. A gigantic boulder rushes at him from the black sky.
His body is driven into the earth, mangled. From the rock edge, fingertips protrude.
The boulder lifts from the ground, crashes down again, a shapeless trip hammer. A flaming truck is flattened. The boulder flies again to the black sky.
A pretty brunette, her face a feverish mask. Wild thoughts tumble through her virginal brain. Her scalp grows taut with ecstatic fear. Her lips draw back from clenching teeth. A gasp of terror hisses from her lips. She imagines, imagines.
…
A soldier falls to his knees. His head jerks back. In the light of burning comrades, he stares dumbly at the white foamed wave that towers over him.
It crashes down, sweeps his body over the muddy earth, fills his lungs with salt water. The tidal wave roars over the field, drowns a hundred flaming men, tosses their corpses in the air with thundering whitecaps.
Suddenly the water stops, flies into a million pieces and disintegrates.
A lovely little redhead, hands drawn under her chin in tight bloodless fists. Her lips tremble, a throb of delight expands her chest. Her white throat contracts, she gulps in a breath of air. Her nose wrinkles with dreadful joy. She imagines, imagines…
A running soldier collides with a lion. He cannot see in the darkness. His hands strike wildly at the shaggy mane. He clubs with his rifle butt.
A scream. His face is torn off with one blow of thick claws. A jungle roar billows in the night.
A red-eyed elephant tramples wildly through the mud, picking up men in its thick trunk, hurling them through the air, mashing them under driving black columns.
Wolves bound from the darkness, spring, tear at throats. Gorillas scream and bounce in the mud, leap at falling soldiers.
A rhinoceros, leather skin glowing in the light of living torches, crashes into a burning tank, wheels, thunders into blackness, is gone.
Fangs-claws-ripping teeth-shrieks-trumpeting-roars. The sky rains snakes.
Silence. Vast brooding silence. Not a breeze, not a drop of rain, not a grumble of distant thunder. The battle is ended.
Gray morning mist rolls over the burned, the torn, the drowned, the crushed, the poisoned, the sprawling dead.
Motionless trucks-silent tanks, wisps of oily smoke still rising from their shattered hulks. Great death covering the field. Another battle in another war.
Victory-everyone is dead.
The girls stretched languidly. They extended their arms and rotated their round shoulders. Pink lips grew wide in pretty little yawns. They looked at each other and tittered in embarrassment. Some of them blushed. A few looked guilty.
Then they all laughed out loud. They opened more gum-packs, drew compacts from pockets, spoke intimately with schoolgirl whispers, with late-night dormitory whispers.
Muted giggles rose up fluttering in the warm room.
"Aren't we awful?" one of them said, powdering her pert nose.
Later they all went downstairs and had breakfast.