SNAP: The World Unfolds

“Still, still,” Sandor said.  “I’m only trying to take the pulse in your neck.  I’m not very good at finding it in a wrist.”

My chest was still heaving but I tried to lie as still as possible.  It wasn’t easy with my body giving involuntary shivers every few seconds. 

“What was that all about?”

“I don’t know.  Franz and Hermann will ask them once they’re subdued.  For you, now we’re going back to the house.  I’ve asked them to have a doctor ready to check you over, though I think you were only winded.”  With that, he reached under my knees and my back, lifted me as though I were a child and loped across the lawn where the French doors were open to the night.

Sandor, with me in his arms, led a parade up the staircase to my rooms.  The doctor, Josef the house-demon, Lisbet, Jean-Louis and Pen trailed behind, shocked into silence.  The doctor, God knows where or when he went to medical school but I prayed it was after 1970, whipped a blood pressure cuff on me, stuck a thermastrip in my mouth and counted.  “Your pressure and heartbeat are elevated.  I don’t wonder, after an attack like that.  Open your mouth.”  He checked my ears and peered into my eyes.  “No pinpoint bleeding, all looks normal.”   He packed everything away.  “I’d stay in the house for the next couple of days,” he said.  “Somebody out there doesn’t like you.”

Pen asked Lisbet to get me a cup of non-caffinated tea then looked at me.  “I didn’t think,” she said.  “You’re not one of us.  I imagine you’re tired, but are you hungry?  The kitchen can put together soup, a fresh roll?”

“No, just the tea will be good,” I said.  Suddenly, the last two days caught up with me and tears slid down my cheeks.  Jean-Louis picked up my hand and at his touch I dissolved.  Great gulping sobs made my body shake.  “Oh Lord, what’s happening.  This isn’t real!  I want my life back,” I howled between sobs.

Jean-Louis glanced at Pen, slightly raised an eyebrow and she excused herself.  As she went out, she closed the door softly.  I felt Jean-Louis’ arms pulling me up and holding me and I had no more strength to fight him.  I leaned into his chest and moaned.  “I’m frightened!  Why am I being attacked?  Who are all of you?  How did I get into this?  Why was I chosen to work at SNAP?”

He was stroking my hair and murmuring.  “I’ll explain as much as I know.  I’m so sorry this has happened.  We thought you’d be safe.  Hush, we really are your friends.  We don’t wish you any harm.  We want to keep you safe and away from any danger.”

I was calmer, but he hadn’t answered any of my questions and didn’t look as though he would.  “Tell me!  It’s only fair!”

He let me go, stood up and began to pace.  “The Baron told you a little of our background,” he began.  “We were doing well.  There were those of us in the movies, some as entertainers, singers, all of the high-profile spots where we could shine at night.”  Here he had the good grace to throw me a wry look at his bad pun.

“And where we really made money—and as you know, money can provide privacy—was in the media that covered entertainment.  From Picture This we moved into tabloid papers and then, with television...what gave us such a huge jump was syndication.  When the entertainment news shows started more than thirty years ago we knew that there was more money to be made.  We put together the combination of a nightly TV news magazine and a weekly celebrity print magazine and we could make or break stars.  We always have a few of our own stars—Robert La Paz, Charlie DiVinci, Cristal Springer...”

“Are you telling me that they’re vampires?”

“Well, yes.  And there are lots more.”  He named off another ten or twelve names recognizable in most of the developed world.  “We really are about celebrities, though, not just vampires.  Better than half of the people we cover on a regular basis aren’t vampires.  And that’s where people like you come in.  We need a lot of staff to produce what we produce and a lot of those people have to work during the day.  Which is dangerous for us.”

This staggered me.  The celebrities that he’d named were household names.  How could they be vampires?  Easily, I realized.  If they worked or were seen only at night.  If their movies were shot by vampire-headed crews and were all shot indoors.  If they wore sunglasses and had parasols carried over them to keep off the sun.   If all the photo shoots were indoors and all the “candid” shots were night-time parties. 

What had been unthinkable a few weeks ago was now making sense.  A lot of people came and went in LA by back doors, underground garages or had drivers drop them off two steps from the front door.  Everyone wore huge, oversized sunglasses, big floppy hats, baseball caps pulled low.  The public accepted this because this was how celebrities were supposed to look.  Except for the pictures at the beach or by the pool, an average reader wouldn’t be able to tell that certain celebs were never seen out of doors during the day.

I lay back on the pillows and closed my eyes.  It was a weird sensation to have your entire world, everything that was ordered and normal in your experience, turned completely around.  Like believing white was white and suddenly learning it was black.  Or day was night. This new reality was so different I couldn’t grasp it fully.

When I opened my eyes, I jumped and yelped.  Jean-Louis’s face was less that a foot away and coming closer and he was grinning.

“What!  What!” I mumbled, turning my head.  Then I realized that this move exposed the side of my neck so I whipped my head back.