A Reason to Live
The beginning of an end is sometimes just the start of something new. And once in a while, it's the genesis of something wonderful.
The clear skies of predawn held the promise of another sunny day for the small community outside of Columbus, Ohio. A beautiful, fair-skinned woman appearing to be in her late twenties stood among the tall grasses of an empty field. Amber Simmons smiled as her green eyes looked with anticipation beyond the line of trees towards the approaching sunrise. It would be her first sunrise in many human lifetimes, and she stood statue-still, gazing hopefully at the sky.
She absently ran her fingertips through her short brown hair while contemplating the simplicity of the moment. With her keen hearing, she heard the birds chirping around her and a rooster crowing in the distance. As someone who typically planned things out with meticulous precision, Amber was momentarily amused that she'd merely pulled her car to the side of the road and randomly walked through the woods until arriving there.
This will do nicely, she affirmed.
In silent homage to her lifelong commitment to structure and order, she recounted what had brought her to that moment. She was a strong-willed person and not prone to depression or morose fixations, but she was at what could be described as a vampire's mid-life crisis. Having led a rich life, she'd enjoyed wealth, means, and free reign of the globe for the most part, as long as one excluded daytime. Daytime reigned as the most lethal environment for her kind, to be avoided at all cost.
However, Amber had grown dissatisfied in recent years. It wasn't so much the series of failed relationships. Granted, those typically ended viciously...for them. It wasn't that she was necessarily tired of living; she simply no longer saw the point in it. She'd been shocked by the realization that she was ready to see her last sunrise. The epiphany came upon her rather suddenly, without brooding or melancholy.
Amber confided in a few close vampire relations. However, most of them also struggled with their own need for diversions and were merely helpful in sympathizing with her situation. There were two vampires in particular who sought to intercede directly on her behalf before she watched that final sunrise, but both were half the world away, and time wasn't on their side.
As she patiently waited, her only regret was the inability to appreciate the sun for very long before meeting her end. She missed the sunshine, really. As a human she had loved the mornings and the hopeful sense of optimism that morning brought to each day. For hundreds of years, she'd only caught fleeting glimpses of the burgeoning dawn before being forced into darker surroundings to await the reappearance of evening. Even at such a maudlin moment, she felt strangely at peace for what would be her last day.
As the sun began to rise, Amber marveled at the beautiful, yellow-orange glow forming above the tree line. It was terrifying in its majesty, and the innate urge to avoid it began to grow despite her resolve to meet her end. Reflex only, she mused reassuringly.
Moments later, the repercussion of the sun's ultraviolet radiation began to take effect on her skin. At first it was merely an itching, but quickly it became painful. Her exposed skin blistered, and seconds later the core of her body erupted with fire. Amber tightly shut her eyes against the sun's rays as they crept to the top of the trees and immediately heard a sizzling sound, quickly realizing it was coming from her own body.
With the sunlight nearly full upon her, a peculiar thing happened to the resolute Amber Simmons: she changed her mind.
Harnessing speed that humans couldn't readily comprehend, she propelled her body westward into the tree line, holding the pain inside so she wouldn't scream. Although her lungs were burning with agony, she yearned to release anguished, primal feelings to the world. Instead, she ran while containing the painful wail building within her.
Amber's only hope was to seek refuge from the blazing sunlight using the nearest opportunity for shelter. In a matter of seconds, she raced towards a small, wood-framed garage that quickly appeared before her. The old garage stood alone, some thirty feet to the side of a paint-peeled house located on the small acreage across which she was running. She barely registered the side doorway before she was speeding through it in a blur of movement. Amber slammed the door shut behind her, seeking refuge beneath a tarp-draped and partially refurbished Chevrolet Camaro.
Within seconds, she lay on her back appreciating the cool, though grimy concrete floor. Her skin still sizzled as the burns covering her body felt catastrophic. Pain coursed through her system, and she breathed air in short, gasping breaths. Great, she thought, now what?
Amber needed fresh blood for her body to begin the healing process properly. But she had deliberately fasted for many days in hopes of accelerating the process of death by morning sunshine. After facing her imminent demise firsthand, she considered it had been a really stupid notion. Naturally, I left my blood supply at home, she thought. Sighing with exasperation, she immediately felt her body racked with intense pain for her indulgence and drew air into her lungs through clenched teeth.
She heard the small, creaky door to the garage open and promptly smelled a human. By the sounds of the small, awkward footsteps, it was a small human, likely a child. Her presumption was confirmed in the simple word the visitor uttered next.
"Hello?" inquired a short, sandy-haired young boy. As he bent down to tie his shoe, Amber noted his faded blue jeans and a T-shirt emblazoned with cartoon characters from Walt Disney's The Lion King.
Amber held her breath so there was as much silence as possible. One glance to his left, and the child could probably see her. She needed blood badly, but one of the few resolutions she had made since becoming a vampire was not to hurt children. She hoped that the boy would lose interest and quickly leave.
"I heard the door slam," he said. "Where are you?"
Amber clenched her jaw tightly and snapped her burnt eyelids shut while striving to keep the burning pain coursing through her body in check. Great, a kid saw me, she thought wildly. Then she heard the edge of the tarp lift near her and the little boy's gasp.
"Gross! What happened?" the child demanded. "Are you hurt?"
She barely opened one of her eyes to gaze back at him. She must have looked, and smelled, like a burned corpse at that moment. "You need to leave, little boy," she urged as clearly as possible through the pain. "It's not safe for you here."
"I can help, really," the boy persisted.
Help? Amber's mind raced for a solution of some kind, but the only thing that occurred to her had little hope for success. For years, she had been a good customer of the blood bank set up by a very old vampire some years ago that catered to a unique clientele. The idea was that a domestic supply of blood might improve the chances of vampires seeking to blend into society without having to hunt humans. The corporate venture capitalized on local blood banks to broker blood supplies to its customers. And best of all, they ensured prompt delivery in most major cities around the world.
"What's your name, little boy?" Amber asked as levelly as possible.
"Caleb," he stammered excitedly. "Caleb Taylor."
"Hello, Caleb," she said while trying to control the tremors of pain in her voice.
"Hi," he replied in a friendly tone that only an innocent child could evoke successfully.
Well, at least he's polite, she thought. In fact, he seemed like a child with a pleasant, gentle disposition. Amber tried to clear her mind of her agony and asked, "Okay, Caleb. How old are you?"
"I'm eight," he proudly replied.
Her mind raced as she gauged the aptitude of the average eight-year-old. "Caleb, I'm an angel, and I need for you to call heaven for me," she explained. "Can you do that?"
Caleb frowned. "Call heaven?"
Amber stifled a moan as the burning began to subside only marginally. Her body must be trying to heal itself. But she needed fresh blood to do the job correctly.
"Can you use a telephone for me and not tell anybody?" she asked.
"Not even my mom?" he countered.
Amber considered the merits of a fleeting thought, but quickly discarded the idea of draining his mother dry. Some angel I am, the angel of death!
"No, Caleb, not even your mom," she urged.
"Is it a secret?" he inquired.
"Yes, it's a secret," she answered with all the patience she could muster.
The boy was silent for a moment and replied doubtfully, "Well, okay."
She nearly screamed as a wave of renewed pain shot through her body and bit her bottom lip so hard that she drew blood.
"Who should I call?" Caleb asked.
"Get a pencil and paper, Caleb," she insisted.
"Okay," he said before running out of the garage, slamming the side access door behind him.
Amber lay there wondering if she would ever see him again, or if the child's mother or father would come through the door next. She passed the time frantically determining if the sunshine outside threatened the interior of the garage. There was a small pane glass window opposite from her on the side of the car where the boy had been, but the canvas tarp seemed to offer enough protection to keep the sun's rays from reaching her.
After a time, she heard the door open and shut again, followed by the sound of little footsteps. Seconds later, the boy's excited face reappeared beneath the tarp.
"I got a pencil and paper," he said.
"Okay, Caleb. This is very important," she began. "I'm going to give you a phone number to call, and then you just give the person that answers a long number and your address. Do you know your address, Caleb?"
The boy nodded and recited his address with a practiced tone.
Smart kid, Amber admired. She gave him a phone number and a special access code and told him to give the person his home address. Caleb repeated the information and promised to go make the call without telling his parents. All the while, it took all her willpower not to reach out and grab the child for the immediate source of the blood that she desperately needed. Instead, Amber waited as she heard his departing footsteps and the sound of the door closing.
Caleb returned some undetermined time later while Amber lay beneath the car gritting her teeth and enduring the searing pain that reignited through her body.
"I made the call to heaven," Caleb said. "Angel Bruce said he'll come soon."
Unbelievable, she thought. "Can you bring me the box when it arrives, Caleb?" she asked as gently as possible.
"Okay, but I have to eat breakfast first," he said.
She panicked slightly. "Caleb, are your parents home now?"
"My mom is," he said. "Should I get her?"
"No!" she urgently snapped. The boy jumped slightly.
"Sorry, Caleb. I'm hurt," she earnestly explained. "I need you to get the box from the angel in the truck before your mom sees it. Your mommy may not want me to get the box, Caleb."
The boy considered what she said and replied, "Okay."
Then a woman's voice called, "Caleb, breakfast!"
"Okay, Mom!" he yelled before getting up and running out of the garage.
"Please hurry, Angel Bruce," Amber muttered through clenched teeth.
After what seemed like hours, Amber heard a truck pull onto the gravel shoulder of the street outside and stop. The engine idled, and she vaguely heard a man's voice, followed by Caleb's. Her hearing was normally many times better than a human's, but at that moment the pain in her body blocked a great deal of her acuity and concentration.
A few minutes later, the boy entered the garage carrying a small plastic insulated cooler. He sat it down onto the floor next to the car with a heavy thump.
"The box is here," Caleb said. His pale blue eyes came into view while he peeked beneath the tarp, adding excitedly, "The angel drove a truck!"
"You're an angel now, Caleb," she whispered.
"I am?" he asked with wide eyes.
"Yes, Caleb. You're an angel from now on," she promised as she began crawling towards the edge of the car. "But you need to go now. You can come back later, okay?"
"Okay," he suspiciously replied before leaving the garage, shutting the small door behind him.
Despite the pain, Amber's shaking hands managed to tip the cooler onto its side while avoiding the sunlight streaming in through the garage window. The container was filled with small plastic bags of human blood. She grabbed two, pulling them underneath the car. She snapped the cap off the first one and squeezed the cold blood into her mouth, drinking hungrily. Quickly draining them both, she reached out for more, repeating the process until the cooler was empty.
She stored the drained blood bags inside the cooler with the lid shut, not wanting to scare her new angel, Caleb. While lying beneath the car on the cool, grimy floor, she could feel her body rapidly healing. She closed her eyes to rest.
By late afternoon, Amber heard a car pull into the driveway, followed by the sound of heavy footsteps and a door to the house opening and closing. Eventually, Caleb returned to check on her, at which time she was feeling much better. Fortunately, her pale skin had already healed, with the exception of some remaining welts here and there. Caleb said that he needed to eat supper but would check on her again before bedtime. She silently marveled at the child's interest in her.
As the evening sun prepared to set, Amber heard a commotion coming from the house. She clearly heard shouting between a man and a woman. Then she heard the sound of an altercation and a person being slapped, followed by a woman's cries, as well as Caleb's voice screaming for his dad to stop hitting his mom. Finally, she heard Caleb cry after more shouting and another slapping sound. Anger rose in Amber's chest and spread throughout her body.
A few minutes later, the side garage door opened and Caleb entered, crying. But instead of coming to the side of the car as he had the previous times, he sat in the corner next to some old tires, rubbing his eyes with his knuckles. His sobbing eventually stopped, and he was reduced to sporadic post-crying convulsions.
"Angel Caleb?" Amber quietly ventured.
He looked towards her from where he sat. She could see that one side of his face was noticeably inflamed. "Angel Caleb, are you all right?" she asked.
He slowly nodded his head. "Yeah."
"Does your father do that to you and your mom very often?" she asked gently, trying to keep her voice in check.
He shook his head and offered between sniffles, "Sometimes."
Amber grit her teeth and tightly shut her eyes. There's too much of this crap in the world, she thought grimly.
The side door to the garage abruptly opened, and she heard a large person enter.
"Caleb Taylor! What're you doin' in here?" demanded a gruff male voice. "Didn't I tell you not to play in the garage?"
The poor child was too scared to move. His eyes were wide as saucers, and his mouth was agape as he stared up at the man with terror. Amber detected the pronounced smell of alcohol.
"Damn you, boy! I'll blister your ass good this time!" the man threatened as he slipped the leather belt off from his jeans and viciously snapped it at Caleb. The belt impacted the boy on his left arm, breaking the skin and leaving a small line of blood.
A feral growl emitted from deep in Amber's throat, and in a flash she was out from under the car, protectively standing before Caleb.
"Who the hell are you?" the man demanded while staggering backwards with surprise.
Amber's eyes blazed bright green, and she scowled while taking in the medium height and build of a middle-aged man with receding hairline and dark eyes.
"I'm Angel Amber," she growled. "And I'm your worst nightmare!"
She punched the man in the jaw with a lightning-fast right hook, causing him to spin to the right and fall back against some old metal shelves stacked with car parts. Amber immediately turned to Caleb, who was sitting on the floor in shock. She picked him up and hugged him to her body while carrying him to the side garage door. She hastily ushered the young boy outside away from the altercation.
The man recovered and swung a tire iron at her back as she spun around and caught his wrist. She effortlessly stripped the iron from his hand and tossed it onto the floor.
"What the hell -" the man spat with alcohol-laced breath.
Amber grabbed him by the throat with one hand and snapped his neck with a single, loud crack. She let his lifeless body drop to the floor with a heavy, meaty, thumping sound.
Hearing a gasp from behind her, she spun around to see little Caleb blankly staring up at her with wide eyes from the doorway. She determined that he must have been in a state of semi-shock based upon the empty expression dominating his face.
Her breath caught in her throat, and her eyes continued to glow bright green as she stared down at the young boy. She immediately cocked her head to listen, expecting the boy's mother to investigate. Silence reigned. Squatting down, she held her arms open for him in a welcoming fashion. "It's okay. Nobody will hurt you now. Come here, Caleb," she beckoned soothingly.
He stared at her for a moment and bravely, but slowly, walked into her embrace. She hugged him to her and patted him on the back. After a moment, she picked him up and took him back outside into the cool, night air.
"Show me your arm, Caleb," she said while lowering him to the ground and squatting next to him. He held up his arm, which was still bleeding slightly.
"I can do some angel magic to make it feel better. Is that okay?" she asked.
His eyes were huge, and he quietly nodded while holding his arm out to her.
"Okay, but don't move, Caleb. It takes an angel's kiss to heal it," she said gently. She placed her tongue against the wound and held it there for just a couple of moments. The small taste of his blood was unlike any she had consumed in recent memory and was extremely powerful to her. But she mastered her temptation and removed her tongue from his skin. His hand immediately went to probe at the wound area.
"Don't touch it for a few minutes, Caleb," she gently instructed him.
"It feels funny," he ventured curiously.
"That's the angel magic," she explained. Vampire saliva had healing properties, which were helpful for removing a prey's bite marks. "Did it stop hurting?"
He nodded. "Yeah." Then his eyes began to stray back towards the direction of the garage, and a blank stare formed again.
"Good," Amber cooed soothingly. "Now, I need for you to look into my eyes, Caleb."
His pale blue eyes gazed intently into her glowing green ones. She had only tried mild hypnosis with dogs before, and she wasn't certain how effective it would be on a human child.
"Okay, Caleb," she offered in a calm, neutral voice. "Look into my eyes. Forget the bad things today. Just remember playing with your toys..."
Her mantra continued for a few minutes longer, but soon afterwards, the oblivious young boy was in his backyard playing with his toys as nighttime fell. Nobody was around to notice a tall, brown-haired woman carrying a body and a plastic cooler across a dark open field. That day, Amber Simmons found a renewed interest in life: Caleb Taylor.
Amber's life was rejuvenated somewhat by an unexpected intervention from her little angel, and it was her turn to return the favor. She carefully disposed of the body of Caleb's abusive father, although the title of "father" to describe the man carried little weight with her. Later, she made her way to her home in an upscale neighborhood of Columbus, Ohio.
Her current identity as Amber Simmons needed to come to an end before long. But first, she wanted to use her resources to aid Caleb and his mother to the best of her ability. She wasn't about to let her little aid-angel down.
Over the next couple of weeks, she discreetly researched the Taylor family. Her trappings of wealth and contacts in human society meant that she could acquire information rather easily when she needed it. She discovered that the Taylors were a struggling middle-class family suffering from exceptionally high financial debt. They maintained a high balance on multiple credit cards, a mortgage on their small acreage, and a higher-than-reasonable car payment on a very used car.
Caleb's mother, Wanda, graduated high school with a rather good transcript. She was only nineteen when she had Caleb, and was married to Caleb's father, Ted, a few months before the child's birth. He was an automobile mechanic by trade and brought in just enough money to keep the household running. Now Caleb and Wanda were faced with additional financial problems.
Amber owned Columbus Mortgage, a small mortgage processing company that she didn't run directly, though she maintained the power of strategic decision making. She found that the more humans she involved herself with, the more questions were asked about her over time. Keeping a low profile with humanity was a necessary part of a vampire's continued survival. It was part of the reason being a vampire could be a lonely existence. The implied glamour from the numerous Hollywood films involving vampires was altogether wrong.
Amber needed a discreet way to engage Caleb's mother with a job opportunity. So, she waited a couple of weeks following Ted's abrupt disappearance before making an uncustomary, after-hours visit to the gentleman serving as the company's manager. Given that she was the owner of the company, it took very little effort to convince Bob Fletcher of her intentions under the premise that she was reaching out to a family in need. Ever the corporate manager, he conceded the positive public relations potential from the gesture.
Within days, an invitation letter was mailed from Columbus Mortgage's human resources department specifically soliciting Wanda's application for employment. They made sure to include the company information sheet on benefits, such as medical coverage, retirement, daycare, and vacation options. Amber prided herself on making sure that her employees were well compensated. She never forgot that the company's staff was doing her a favor without even realizing it. For Amber, who had sheltered her accumulated wealth in multiple locations throughout the world, the issue was now about social camouflage rather than capitalism.
In the end, Wanda was eager to take the bait. Amber had to hand it to Wanda: the woman cared enough about Caleb to step out of her comfort zone once the abuser had left the house. Amber made unannounced, unnoticed visits during the evenings to check up on Caleb, as well. She was pleased to find that Wanda wasn't an abuser herself.
Amber remained in her identity longer than she'd expected just to make sure Wanda and Caleb settled well into their new life. Via progress reports from Bob Fletcher, Amber was very pleased to discover that Wanda had a real talent for independence when given the opportunity. In just a couple of years, Wanda worked her way from the mailroom up to a clerical support position. She also learned that Caleb had settled into his single-parent life and was doing well in school.
Amber's final direct impact on the Taylors' lives occurred when the company sponsored a raffle to provide a college fund for up to three employees' children. Of course, Wanda Taylor was one of those winners. The night of the award dinner, which Amber uncharacteristically attended, was the sole time that Amber recalled having her picture taken as part of a company function. She posed with each of the three employees, minus their children. Caleb's presence might have proven disastrous.
Finally, Amber had to disappear, and a new identity needed to be forged. She sold her company to Bob Fletcher, whom she had been carefully grooming for the role.
Her new identity included a welcome return to her natural red hair color, and her name changed from Amber Simmons to Katrina Rawlings. For the time being, she chose to travel the globe, and would settle down somewhere later. The rest will fall into place eventually, she mused.
As Katrina journeyed the world over the years, she did something else that was a first for her. Instead of letting her old identity completely fall away, she periodically checked in on the status of the Taylor family via calls to Bob Fletcher. Wanda had progressed well in the company, as expected, and Caleb continued to prosper.
Time passed as Katrina renewed regular contact with some fellow vampires around the world who she had neglected over the years. Time was rather relative for vampires.
On a final call to Bob some years later, Katrina learned a shocking bit of news. Wanda had died of cancer suddenly a couple of months prior. Caleb was in his final year of graduate school pursuing his master's degree at Georgia State University in Atlanta, but had taken time away to settle his mother's estate. Then he returned to complete his work at college. Discreet inquiries revealed that he remained in Atlanta with hopes of securing a teaching position. In history, no less.
The shock of the developments rang through Katrina with surprising strength. Her thoughts were immediately of Caleb and the loss he must be enduring. It was then, from her basement apartment in France, that she resolved to seek a permanent residence. And against her better judgment, the area around Atlanta suddenly called to her.