"Last Rites: The Return of Sebastian Vasilis" Ch. 2; President Lyndon Johnson meets Karl Vincent at the Mars bar, New York.
2
I was driving down the interstate using directions Sebastian gave me to find our first warrior. The location baffled me. The address he gave me was not in one of the better parts of town. We were headed to the Village, in New York.
The area I was driving to was one that I expected to find vampires in, not one of the saviors of the universe. Should I trust him? Was this just an elaborate set-up? He might have been setting me up with one of his vampire friends as revenge for Island Falls.
A page from "Karl Vincent: Vampire Hunter" #2 click to purchase.
Needless to say I was on my guard. The sun was going down and steam rose up from the streets to give the setting a more ominous tone. Then I heard a voice.
“Ah, that’s one of the things that I never enjoyed as a breathing being; the setting of the sun.”
“Shit, what the hell…” I yelled. I jammed on the brakes, squealing the tires and hitting the curb as I came to a complete stop. I looked over.
Sebastian materialized in the passenger seat of my 1996 blue Toyota Corolla.
“I don’t think that’s good for the car.” Sebastian said.
“Would you please materialize before you speak from now on?” I said then paused to catch my breathe. “You just scared the shit out of me.”
“I know. I can tell. Your nerves are on edge and your blood pressure’s too high.”
“It’s the company that I keep.” I said as I pulled off the curb and drove away.
“Shouldn’t we be seeking help at a military installation?”
“Do you really want to seek help from those who would view you as a laughing stock?”
“I don’t want to seek help at all.” I informed the former bloodsucker. “I just want to go home.”
“The Setites have infiltrated your military with familiars. They run for political office, are involved in every aspect of American life.”
I didn’t know what a familiar was. What kind of vampire hunter doesn’t know what a familiar is? But I didn’t want to ask Sebastian, since I would have to put up with his smug attitude and condescending tone again. I would find out later. So I told him, “Terrific.” I thought vampires were a dangerous but rare species, maybe one vampire to every five thousand humans, now I find out they’re prominent in everyday life.
“Don’t you thirst for adventure, Mr. Vincent?”
“I got adventure coming out of my ass,” I said. “Incidentally, how are we supposed to fund this little trip? I don’t have enough for a ticket to Cairo.”
“That’s where we’re going, Mr. Vincent. Our first warrior is independently wealthy. He will help us fund this expedition.”
I came up to the address Sebastian gave me. It was a dive bar, the kind that looked like there were gunfights inside every night of the week; two on Saturdays. I double checked the address on the piece of paper I wrote it on. It was the right one.
“This is where we’re going to find one of the saviors of the universe?” I asked.
“Never judge a book by its cover, Mr. Vincent. You should have learned by now. Remember, you're the only one that can see or hear me, so don't talk to me.”
I pulled the vehicle off the road and into a parking spot. The bar reeked of urine and alcohol. The place was covered with graffiti. The sign over the building read ‘Mars Bar Dive In.’ a strange painting of a kangaroo with a jungle cat’s head was on the wall; it stood out from the rest of the graffiti and seemed out of place.
We headed towards the entrance. A wino was passed out in front of the bar window. He was relieving himself in his pants. On the wall next to the entrance the graffiti read ‘After the Mars Bar, then what?’ in bold letters. A beer bottle crashed through the window and I had to duck to avoid getting hit by it. The wino didn’t seem to notice the shards of glass that came raining down upon him.
“Hey!” a voice that I assumed was the bartender’s yelled. “Now I gotta clean that shit up.”
Sitting beside the front door was a huge Neanderthal who reminded me of Mickey Rourke in “Sin City” He was chewing tobacco and reading a “Vampire Hunter” comic book. His B.O. blended in with the urine smell that the wino gave off.
As I approached the entrance to the building a man darted out and ran past me. He looked scared as hell. Another man ran out right behind him with a knife in his hand.
“I didn’t know she was your girl,” the first man screamed.
“Yeah, well you should find these things out before you sleep with someone,” the man with the knife yelled as he continued chasing the first man down the road.
“I take it this isn’t the place where everyone knows your name,” I said to the doorman.
“No, this is the place where everyone knows your pain,” the Neanderthal said, then smiled to reveal two missing front teeth. I looked at the tag that was stuck to his shirt. “Max Schreck,” I read out loud and looked him in the eye. He squinted at me as if he were challenging me to do something about the name. He motioned me through the front door with his thumb then went back to reading his comic book. I walked inside, Sebastian floating behind me.
“Why are you so nervous?” Sebastian asked.
“Why? This place makes the ‘Mos Eisley space port’ look like ‘Cheers.’ I’m wondering if I’ll make it out of here alive.”
“We have friends in low places here.”
“Easy for you not to be afraid: You’re already dead.”
I walked up to the bar and sat down. My hands were shaking as the bartender came up to me. I looked way up! He had a Ramones T-shirt covering his huge belly. The sleeves were cut off so he could show off his muscular build. I stared at the Tattoos covering his body. Some were fresh some were old.
“What’ll it be?” the bar tender said with a deep growl as he took off his glasses and wiped them off with his T-shirt.
“Whiskey and Coke.”
“Comin’ up.”
“J.D. none of that cheap shit.”
“You shouldn’t be drinking,” Sebastian said.
“What? I’m in a bar. I gotta order a drink.” Now the piece of crap was lecturing me on the evils of drinking. It was because of ghouls like him I started drinking in the first place.
The bartender set the drink down in front of me and looked around to see who I might be talking to. Then he gave me a weird look, like he was trying to figure out if I was crazy or not.
“I told you not to talk to me. You’re the only one who can see or hear me.” Sebastian scolded me like I was a child.
I opened my mouth and was about to give him a piece of my mind when I noticed the bartender staring at me. I passed a $5 bill across to him, smiled and lifted my glass like I was giving him a toast. I was about to take a drink when I noticed a huge bug of a variety that I’d never seen before crawling out of it. I set the glass down and excused myself to use the bathroom.
The entire room was covered with graffiti and the entrance to the restroom read Kilroy was here. The bathroom stench was unbearable. I almost lost my lunch.
Women don’t let women harass each other!!! – Run read more graffiti.
I unzipped my fly and lifted the toilet seat. I noticed ‘Jesus Saves’ written on the underside of the lid. I drained the main vein then I saw, hanging off of the rim, a used condom dripping onto the floor, apparently a couple of the punks didn’t want to get a room. I tried to move my foot out of the way to avoid some punk’s mojo from dripping on it, but I was too late!
“Shit.” I yelled as I grabbed a piece of toilet paper and wiped the goo off of my shoe.
The sink and toilet were completely covered with filth; Cigarette ashes, feces, urine, semen, whatever dirt you would find in a gas station restroom, and then some. A roll of toilet paper was unraveled and draped all around the wall.
I left the room, shutting the door behind me, and then I let out the breath I had been holding since I had opened the door. I went back to the bar and sat down. I looked over to the corner of the room and saw a drinking contest between two men, one old, the other young.
“Go over to that old man who’s drinking that young hooligan under the table.” Sebastian said.
“An old man is going to help us take on Lilitu and Setite vampires?” He had to be joking.
“SHHH! Again, judge not according to the appearance,” Sebastian’s tone was demeaning but then it always was.
“Alright I’ll go over.”
“Hey Mack,” The bartender couldn’t mind his own business. “Just who is it you keep talking to anyway?”
“The ghost of Barnabas Collins,” I joked, as I threw down money for the tab and tip.
I sauntered over to the drinking contest area. There were about twenty people, mostly men. Half of them were cheering on the old man. The other half were cheering on the younger man, whose name, apparently, was Dick.
Dick appeared to be almost forty years old, still young but not for much longer.
“Hey, old man,” Dick said to his opponent. “What makes you think you can drink me under the table?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” the old man responded, “the fact that you don’t weigh as much as a fourteen year old girl and probably can’t hold your liquor.”
“Did you hear that, mates?” Dick said in a pseudo Australian accent as he turned to face his friends and ran his fingers through his purple Mohawk in a mocking gesture. “Randy Quaid here thinks he can hold more booze than I can.”
I read his T-shirt which said Richard Hell and the Void Oids, an ode to a little known band from the ‘80’s. His shirt was also sleeveless and I could see needle marks visible around what was left of his veins which flowed like blue rivers up and down his pale, pathetically thin arms. His eyes fluttered as he turned back to face the old man. As he turned in his seat I could see part of his genitalia sticking out of a tear in his crotch. I turned away and frowned. That’s not something I wanted to see.
He made Sid Vicious look like David Cassidy.
I studied the old man; the one Sebastian wanted me to recruit for this mission. He looked so out of place in this punk rock hangout. His shoulder length silver hair flowed straight down but curled upward before it hit his shoulders. He wore a red and black checkered flannel shirt with a gray coat pulled over it. He had on a pair of brown dress pants, neatly pressed.
The two men both lifted another drink to their lips. The old man was steady but Dick was getting a little green around the gills.
The old man downed his seventh drink, judging from the empty glasses turned upside down at the table, and then slammed that glass upside-down with the rest of them. The people in the crowd standing behind him cheered and laughed.
“Come on Roxburgh, Come on!” Someone in the crowd yelled to Dick. Roxburgh was apparently his last name.
Dick tried to down his seventh drink but it wasn’t happening. Alcohol came out of the corner of his mouth and he leaned far back in his chair. Most of his drink spilled all over the front of his shirt, and then he slowly slumped out of his chair, down to the ground, where he passed out. His crew had a look of defeat on their faces as they handed money over to the old man and his supporters.
I studied the old man as he smiled at his victory. I had the strangest feeling that I knew him, even though I’d never met him before in my life. He looked familiar. I had flashbacks to the 1960’s; Viet Nam, political assassinations, Woodstock; Hogan’s Heroes, Green Acres, Star Trek. This man made me think of an era during which I had been no more than four years old.
“Call him Lyndon,” Sebastian said.
“Excuse me, Lyndon?” I said to the old man.
He turned around with a shocked look on his face. Apparently he hadn’t gone by that name in years.
“Do I know you?” He asked.
“No, but a…a…an acquaintance…of mine sent me here to talk to you.”
“About what?”
“I don’t know where to begin. Is there some place that we can talk?”
He motioned me to follow him over to a booth at the other end of the bar. Another drinking contest with two other customers was underway.
“Congratulations on your victory.”
“Oh, that. It was nothing. I do it every night,” Lyndon said. “It’s like I always say; a man can take a little bourbon without getting drunk. But if you hold his mouth open and pour in a quart he's going to get sick on it.”
“That’s funny.”
“What?”
“That saying is from another Lyndon. Lyndon Johnson.”
“Not another, son, I am Lyndon Johnson.”
“No, I mean the thirty-sixth president of the United States.”
“That’s me.”
“Come on,” I laughed. “You can’t be the President.”
“But I am. What I don’t understand is who the hell you are and how you know my first name, yet don’t know who I am. How did you find me?”
“Tell him the truth,” Sebastian said to me. “Don’t make anything up.”
I hesitated. Could Sebastian be serious? I sighed. What the hell, I'd followed him so far. I blurted out, “What I’m about to tell you might sound a little strange…but…well…I’m a, a vampire hunter.”
Lyndon got real serious all of a sudden as he blurted out. “You’re not here to kill me are you?”
“What?”
“I never take another human life when I feed. Not even a Republican.”
“No, sir, I didn't even know you had turned. I'm just as surprised as you are at your being here.” I assured him.
“Then what the hell is it you want son?” He asked with a look of relief on his face.
“The Hebrew vampire Lilith has been resurrected. We must go to Cairo and prevent Sekhmet from being resurrected,” I said. I couldn’t believe how serious I sounded when those words came out of my mouth.
“Lilith huh?”
“You know her?”
“Only by reputation she’s been hibernating for about a thousand years.”
“So you know that we have to prevent the Egyptian Sekhmet from being resurrected.”
“We still have a few weeks before the ceremony.”
“What ceremony?” I asked
“March 12, the day of Parmutit, the end of the world by Sekhmet,” he said
“I knew that,” I lied. I guess I should have known that. But I didn’t really want to know much about them. The profession I found myself in was a living hell and the less I knew about these creatures the better. Just tell me how to destroy them. That’s all I need to know. My skills as a detective had somewhat waned once I started drinking to excess. After I lost Barbara and the kids I just didn’t care anymore. Of course, given the nature of our mission, that was kind of a necessary bit of information. I asked the question I had been dreading to ask. “I hate to be pushy…but I was told you would fund this little expedition because I…can’t.”
“Don’t make much in your line?”
“In my old line of work I made a lot.” I said.
“What was that?”
“Detective.”
“Hope you didn’t work for that prick Hoover.”
“But you seemed to like Hoover?”
“It’s like this son; I’d rather have Hoover on the inside of the tent pissing out then on the outside pissing in.”
“Oh.” I said, not understanding. “By the way why are you so willing to help us destroy your own kind?”
“I hate what I am. Like I told you I ain’t never killed another human being to feed. I don’t want these creatures to take over. Hell, if I did drink fresh blood then I ‘d look the way I did when I was thirty.”
“Oh, well I’m glad you’re with us not against us.”
“What about you son, were you for me or against me?”
“Er, ah,” I stammered, should I tell him the truth? Honesty is always the best policy. “I’m a Republican, I like Reagan. But I guess that was ‘after’ your time. ”
“Reagan? How did that fucking ‘Bedtime for Bonzo’ actor get to become President? I couldn’t believe that I actually watched his acceptance speech!?” Lyndon bellowed.
“Sorry,” was all I could say. I didn’t realize Lyndon had such a strong animosity towards number forty. It was probably because Reagan had been a Democrat at one time.
He wrote something on a piece of paper. “Here’s my number, son. Call me when your Republican ass is ready and we’ll take on these bloodsuckers together.”
“Thanks. I’ll be in touch.”
“Now finish that drink and get out of here before you find a size eleven Texas boot up your Republican ass.”
I gulped down my Jack Daniels and coke then hurried out the door. I probably shouldn’t have drunk it as I felt something funny buzzing around my throat. Sebastian floated out behind me.
I was glad to be out of that shit hole. It would be closed down for health violations within a few weeks.
Another page from "Karl Vincent: Vampire Hunter" #2
Amazon reviews:
By Annie on March 17, 2015
"Last Rites" is a funny combination of immortals, vampires, ghosts and humans that have to work together to defeat the enemy. It is a great book with a lot of fun and excitement.
5.0 out of 5 stars
Craving for more!
Byyyon March 15, 2015
Finished this book in a single seating and am craving for more! Very imaginative and I loved the characters who each brought a special part to the unfolding of the story. If you like vampire stories, grab this book immediately. You will be pleasantly surprised by author Kevin Given in your journey through this book.
5.0 out of 5 stars
I definitely enjoyed this book!!
ByBlueBirdon March 10, 2015
The most amazing book with the best paranormal stories I have ever read. The author impressed me with his creative thinking. I love the idea of this book that how Sebastian came back from the dead as a ghost and how he leads Karl to several warriors and helped him in his quest to prevent the resurrection of the greatest, powerful vampires known to mankind. This book amazes me and during the time when I was reading this book I found myself totally indulged in it. I found it to be highly entertaining because it is a strange horror comedy in the tradition of “Ghostbusters” and “Buffy the Vampire Slayer”. Kevin gave me very imaginative and great comedic horror novel that keeps me smiling on the edge of my seat at the same time and entertains me with his horror comedy stories. I am impressed a lot that the book Last Rites is very well written and really easy to understand.