The wind was the first thing that woke me that morning. Who am I kidding? It's the first thing that wakes me every morning. And sometimes, it doesn't even wait until then.
My eyes slowly opened to the violently shaking, pre-war, 1990's trailer scrap metal that was held up above my head and almost fitted around my body and possesions with ply-wood and other scrap metal that could be found around the Waste. Though my pathetic excuse of a home was small and noisey, it put up a good fight against the wind and anything else our now pissed off Mother Nature would throw at it.
Slowly, I forced myself to sit up from my sleeping position and before anything else could be thrown at me today, I simply needed to stretch away the pain brought to me by my "quality" make shift bed. A large amount of stale, dusty air filled my lungs as I breathed in deep and just as slowly as I woke, I stood.
I began my day by taking a shower to wash off the sticky, morning sweat which covered me each time I woke, the routine was almost neccessary. Seeing as working, home air conditioning was now a laughable myth, told to tease ourselves that there were once better days.
As my morning progressed, so did the undying trouble in the back of my mind that I was forgetting something. What that something was? I hadn't the slightest, and it was beginning to annoy me. The more I dwelled upon it, the more it started to seem rather important. And yet, I still couldn't put my finger on it, until I looked out the window of my tiny shack and saw my office in the far distance of the desert. When the sand calmed enough from the winds, you could see it, just sitting there, patiently, like the man inside it.
"Shit!" I was late, and judging by the time, I was about a half hour late. It started to come back to me that I had promised a man, a strange man rather, than I'd pencil him in on my day off. That day off being today. It had taken a lot of convincing to do so, but he seemed almost desperate and in my tiny, shrunken heart of hearts, I was forced to agree. Only now, being late, I was going to have some explaining to do.
No longer was I in my near sloth-like mode as I quickly changed into something more professional than my ragged, dirty, cut-off shorts and oil stained tank top; There really was no time to fuss with anything else. I quickly slipped my shoes on, grabbed my keys and anything else needed before racing time out the door.
The sandy winds were picking up as I began to walk through them, almost as if they were teasingly punishing me for being so late. With a sigh, I wrapped my scarf tighter around the bottom half of my face, protecting my nose and mouth from the harsh damage. I walked faster against the storm's winds, keeping my head down but my attention live and alert, almost expecting something to ruin my seemingly clear path. As I walked on further, sure enough, something did indeed, have to happen.
"God damn it.." I mumbled, lucky enough my words were muffled under the scarf as I forced myself to halt in front of the annoying, flying, robot menece which now blocked my path; The iSpect.
Ever since the war between the Chinese and the Americans, (resulting in our post-apoctylptic existence and America losing) these things were soon created to confirm anyone in their path as true natives to the Amercian land. To block out spies and immigrants. A good idea, really, but horribly annoying and somewhat time consuming to come across and the fact I was late already, this infernial robot wasn't making any of it better.
"Please state your name, age and place of birth." the monotoned, flying contraption commanded as it swirled around me, like a wasp, examining and studying my every move.
"Rebecca Louise Cornwell. Age 35. Born in late Redding, California." I simply stated, watching it in brief silence as it took in my information.
"Please raise your identification card." it then asked of me and with an annoyed sigh, I obeyed, knowing there was simply no other way around these, nothing legal anyway. From the front of it's "belly" a small slot formed where I was to place my card and I waited patiently as possible as it properly confirmed my validation. Small noises of the gears inside it's "brain" were heard, even over the howling wind around us in the middle of the existantless desert. I couldn't help but to begin to think of the patiently sitting man in my office, wondering where I was or if I was even coming at all. I looked over to the building in which he'd be in, if he hadn't already left and began to fidget as my patience grew thinner.
"C'mon!..." I groaned, staring the iSpect down in what seemed to be it's "eye". Not a moment later, my I.D. card was then given back to me with a small ring of "congradulation".
"Please enjoy the rest of your day." it twittered before setting off to annoy some other poor sap. "Whatever.." I mumbled mocking it in it's annoying, prerecorded voice as I watched it fly off and I started to walk as quickly as I could through the storm again.
A few minutes later, I finally arrived at my destination, the small oasis in the middle of the tiny urban town, that I proudly called my office. Without furthur distraction from getting to this poor man waiting, I opened the door and made my way inside.
"I am so sorry." I started off honestly, for I truly was as sorry as claimed for being so late. "iSpects..you understand, I'm sure?" I let a small, somewhat forced chuckle escape my lungs as I told my half truth. "How long have you been waiting?..Not long, I hope?" As I placed my things down, I briefly glanced at the sure enough, solem, patient looking man sitting across from my desk.
"Five hours.." he mumbled almost, but not with complaint or disgust at all in his deep voice, but rather just simply stating that was the way it was. Although, it couldn't be right, it seemed far too exagerated to be right.
"I'm sorry? /Five/ hours? But our agreed time was 9:30. It's hardly 10:30 now." I said, giving him a rather curious look, like maybe he was too far gone for me to do anything about.
"I like to be early." he said simply, blinking a few times, like I was weird to think him any other way.
"Okaay?..Well, anyway.." I gathered my belongings needed before sitting down with his file given prior to this appointment and opened it, scanning down the almost completely blank pages within it. I couldn't help but to quirk a brow and shake my head slowly. It was weird, the fact his file could be so empty, with nothing but a name and a place of birth along with a few other things unimportant to my job, brought a almost familiar feeling to me. I'd seen this before.
I quickly swallowed my suspicions down and looked up to the blue-eyed, black haired man and forced a small smile, "So..Jeremiah Riley, is it?" I asked, already feeling dumb for doing so as it was obvious that's what his name was so I quickly asked another question to break the awkward air, "Do you have any family history of mental illness?"
He slowly pursed his lips together, almost as if he was thinking real hard about it, like remembering, before he nodded slowly and that was all he did, just nodded slowly.
I remained quiet for a moment, hoping maybe he would begin to talk about it, the more he thought but as I waited, it seemed that was never going to happen.
"Alright. Good." I said, jotting down the fact his family did indeed, have a history.
"Good?" he finally asked, his eyes searching mine for any real reason that could be considered, "Good".
"Uhm. 'Good' as in, you're willing to answer questions.."
And there was no response there as his face still moulded the "you're fuckin' weird" look. This look, he seemed to have the ability to hold so well, it was almost uncomfortable and it had the power to make me actually believe it. With a small sigh, I place his seemingly useless file down and looked at the mysterious "Jeremiah Riley" dead serious as the feeling of my suspicions toward him were far too intense to ignore.
"What /exactly/ can I do for you, Mr. Riley?.." I asked, doing my best to keep myself from cracking under his grim-like glare.
Though it didn't fade, his look was still the same as he looked right back at me, leaning over himself, he placed his elbows to knees and opened his mouth to speak, "I need your help.." he said simply and I couldn't help the scoff that came with that obvious statement. Though, he didn't say much to it, he just simply continued, "I've heard you helped a man before. A man exactly like me." he bit his lip, wondering if I'd get it now. And I did. "A man by the name of Vincent Alexandar."
The memories of that name were almost too much for me and had I been any less professional, I'd scream and back away. For I now knew my suspicions were accurate. Vincent Alexandar was a vampire. Was. A horrible, vicious, disgusting vampire and the fact that this Jeremiah Riley knew him, made me believe he was exactly the same.