The trio sat in the backroom of the comic store, the Frogs on one side of the table, Star on the other. The tension was electric. She glanced around the chaotic room. Comics were haphazardly stacked to the ceiling. Weapons and religious relics were interspersed between pizza boxes and empty soda cans. How they had managed to get to the table still amazed her. She studied the items in front of her: maps, floor plans, newspaper articles and sketches were set in piles.
"It's better this way. The scene you were causing outside the store was chasing away our regulars," Edgar stated.
"The store was empty Frog. And you closed up anyway. I think your charming customer service is what keeps the place as quiet as a tomb," she replied sarcastically.
"An apt description coming from a chick who once lived in one," Edgar fired back.
Star's eyes sparkled with anger. She stood at the same time as Edgar; both pushed their chairs out noisily. They glared at each other from across the table.
"Everyone take a chill pill. Edgar, sit. That's an order."
Alan said from his seat, as he calmly sipped a coke.
Edgar muttered under his breath and sat heavily in his chair. Star caught the words 'bitch' and 'bloodsucker' in his low string of curses.
"Good boy," Star mocked, lowering herself back to her seat.
"This sucks, but we need to talk. It's for the good of mankind," Alan added.
"OK. You're right bro. I just don't like to mix with vamps... or ex-vamps," Edgar begrudgingly replied.
"And I just don't like you guys so I think we're even. Now explain."
Edgar took charge, his stern game face back in place. "It's like we told you. We never stopped patrolling, even after Max and his nest of leeches were toasted. Alan and I still believe that ghouls and werewolves hold high positions at city hall. Its our duty to keep Santa Carla free from the undead."
"And the lunar-cyclically challenged," Alan added.
Star's jaw dropped. "You've actually seen a werewolf?" she asked dubiously.
The brothers exchanged glances.
"Well, no. Not exactly. But when the day comes, we will be ready," Edgar said with a knowing nod to Alan.
"I don't even want to know," Star muttered.
"As I was saying," Edgar continued after a swig of his own soft drink "We have sources. And last week something went down. We don't know what exactly, but our informant tells us it was some sort of mystical occurrence. The black magic kind"
"Who's your source," Star asked warily. This was sounding more and more like imaginations running wild, just like her panic attack on the Boardwalk.
"That info is top secret," replied Alan, his face deadpan.
Star sighed and indicated for the brothers to continue.
"As I was saying before the interruption," Edgar shot Star a dirty look, "Someone with serious mojo purchased up a storm at the local oogady-boogady store. Only a magical practitioner of the highest level would even know what half the stuff was, let alone how to use it."
"But you know what the stuff was?!" Star exclaimed, her tone full of mockery.
Edgar ignored her remark pointedly and carried on, "Then WHAM! On the anniversary night of your honey's run-in with a pair of antlers, a storm comes out of nowhere. Lightening like never before. Power cuts."
They both looked at her, expecting a reaction.
Star blinked and shrugged at them. "A lightening storm doesn't prove anything. I've witnessed storms here before."
The Frogs rolled their eyes at each other, then looked back at her like she was a slow five-year-old.
"It was a resurrection. All the signs were there. And then the missing people started..well, going missing," Alan bumbled. "I'm talking about four or five a night, and that's only the reported ones. At least twenty local street kids have vanished too. Since that night, we're talking about thirty or so people in one week."
To illustrate the point, Alan handed Star one of the piles on the table: newspaper clippings. Star flicked through them, her mind racing. As the details became clearer her eyes widened.
"Believe us now?" Edgar nodded, "They only found a few bodies. Drained of blood. The rest are still missing."
Star put the articles back on the table, a puzzled look on her face. "It's too many people. I don't understand."
"Of course you wouldn't. We're the experts." Alan sounded a little too pleased with himself.
"They were weak. They needed more blood than ever. The victims were random, taken for necessity rather than choice," answered Edgar. "We know David's preference is cheap brunette trash."
It was Star's turn to ignore Edgar. Something else he said bugged her more than his insult.
She gulped, "Were weak?... As in past tense? As in 'weak no longer'?"
"Look who's catching up. Yes, as in now they are strong. And back on their stomping ground. We saw them on the Boardwalk. Four of them. Like some psychopathic bloodsucking reunion tour," Edgar snarled.
The remaining colour in Star's face faded. The voice taunting her on the Boardwalk... Could it have been real??
"What is it Star? Are you finally going to admit you are nothing but Satan's lapdog? You knew all along didn't you?!" accused Edgar, leaping to is feet and stalking towards her. "Check her for bite marks!"
She shrunk into her jacket, startled by his tirade."N-NO! I didn't know. I got here tonight. I-I dropped my bags off at my place and came to the Boardwalk. I was just walking around. Then I thought I heard something. A voice. I freaked out. I totally freaked. Somehow I ended up in your store."
A tear trickled down her cheek. The crowded room was suddenly still.
"You made her cry," hissed Alan none to quiet.
Star sniffed and wiped her eyes hastily. "No, its not because of you. If what you say is really true, then we're all fucked. If they are back, then it wasn't just my imagination out there on the Boardwalk tonight. It was David. And he knows I'm here. He probably knows you're here," she laughed harshly, "And he probably knows we're here together right now."
Edgar shifted uneasily in his seat. Alan cast an anxious glance towards doorway and into the store.
"She's right. How could we be so stupid. They're probably out there right now, circling the place; finding weaknesses and alternate points of entry," Alan groaned.
The brothers lept to their feet and began barking orders at each other, frantically dashing around the room. As she watched them it dawned on her: this is what headless chickens would look like if they were dressed in camo. How had they possibly managed to survive a fight with vampires?!
Star took another moment to look at the research on the table. She rifled around, fanning out the pages. There were images of the Cave, both inside and out. A shudder ran through her body as she studied the photos of her previous home. Her finger stroked a close up of a teddy bear, Laddie's smiling face filling her mind. She dropped them and moved on. Various maps of Santa Carla had been marked; one plotted where victims' had last been sighted, another was titled 'Vampire Hot Zones'.
Edgar and Alan's bickering reached a crescendo. She followed their voices out of the small room and into the store.
"You always get the big gun-"
Star raised her eyebrows at the fighting brothers. They stopped struggling abruptly and composed themselves. A stake dropped from Edgar's belt with a thud and rolled to her feet. Star picked it up and weighed it in her delicate hand.
"Can I keep this?" she asked casually.
"Sure, we have a box of them out back."
"Of course you do," Star muttered as she strode past them towards the main door.
"Hey! Where are you going?" Alan demanded.
"I'm going home," she answered simply. "It's late. I'm exhausted. I'll be able to think more clearly when the sun is up." She'd feel safer too.
"Don't go out there!" Edgar warned.
"No choice Frog. I'm leaving. You can find me at 'Gypsy Rose' if you need to."
Alan inhaled sharply. "That's where the supplies were bought! The witch shop!"
Star whirled around, "What are you talking about? I used to go there years ago. My friend owns it. I'm going to be running it. Its all candles and dream catchers."
More looks exchanged between brothers; more unspoken communication.
"If you are telling the truth-" Alan started.
"-which we highly doubt," added Edgar.
"If you really don't know, then this may have been more of a setup than we ever realised," finished Alan.
"Yessss! It's a conspiracy! How did we miss that?!" Edgar spat, firing an angry stream of water at an innocent rack of comics.
Star let out a sound of frustration, then opened the door.
"Thanks for the stake."
With a deep breath she stepped outside and closed the door. This end of the Boardwalk was quieter, but the noise was still jarring compared to inside the comic store. She tucked the stake into the waist band at the back of her skirt, and with every nerve in her body screaming, she walked out into the night.
