Chapter Three



I



The girl led Connor several blocks down the street until they came to an old building that used to be an auto repair shop.

"Come on. This way," she said sliding aside a board that was hanging by a nail. Inside was a large open area that used to be the shop's repair bays. An old refrigerator hummed in a corner and in front of a battered couch was a new television set and a large expensive sound system. Scattered around the area were some mattresses covered with worn blankets.

After guiding Connor to the couch, the girl pulled some beers from the refrigerator. "The guys will back soon," she said handing him one of the beers.

Connor took the can, opened it, and took a short swig. Then with a grimace of distaste set it on the floor. "Guys?" he asked.

"Yeah, there's about six of us," she answered, settling down onto the sway-backed couch. "There's Pike, Chelsea, Kyle, Castor and Pollux," she said, ticking off the names on her fingers. She held her hand out to Connor, "By the way, my name's Constance. What's yours?" she asked.

"Connor."

"Nice to meet 'cha, Connor," she said, shaking his hand.

"So you all live here together?" asked.

"Yeah."

"Are you all runaways?"

Constance nodded. "Yeah, one way or the other we either got kicked out or got tired of the way we were livin'. Take Pike, for instance. His old man was one of these super authoritarian types. He wanted to send Pike to military school because he thought that would straighten him out. Pike had other ideas and ran off. When his father found him, he beat him so bad he wound up in the hospital. As soon as he could, Pike ran off again and wound up here.

"Kyle got tired of his parents fighting all the time. They couldn't stand each other, but they figured that it was 'better for the children' to stay together. He finally got tired of the whole scene and split.

"Now Chelsea. She never knew her old man. Her mom was on like her sixth or seventh man when she was born. And then this last guy found out that he preferred Chelsea to her old lady. So Chelsea's mom got jealous and kicked her out of the house.

"My story's kind of like that, except it was my own daddy. He told me he loved me and that we had to keep it secret so as to not hurt my mother's feelings. Then he started on my kid sister and hurt her real bad." A grim look appeared on Constance's face, "He's in Hell now, but I figured I'd better take off anyway. I didn't like the idea of being sent to Juvie or being 'counseled'."

Connor nodded his understanding. "And Castor and Pollux?"

Constance smiled. "You'll find out when you meet them."

"Hi Constance! How's it hangin' baby?" yelled a young Hispanic man with slicked back hair as he entered the room. Four others followed him in.

A tall girl with her black hair exploding from her head in multicolored spikes took in Connor 's spare form with a raising of an eyebrow. "So you found yourself another stray," she commented, snapping big bubble gum bubbles as she spoke. "Cute," she added approvingly.

A white-blonde boy nodded his agreement with a broad grin, "I think he's perfectly lovely," he murmured as he seductively lowered his long brown lashes.

"Fresh," pouted another young man who was as dark as the other was pale. He playfully swatted the blond boy, "Can't you see you're scaring the child?"

"You're just jealous, dear. Besides, you know my heart only belongs to you," replied the pale boy as he blew a kiss at the dark one.

Connor stepped away from the pair with a doubtful look on his face, "Uh," he stammered.

"That's Castor and Pollux," Constance explained to him. "You can see why they had to run away."

Connor shook his head, not quite understanding.

"They're lovers."

"Oh," he responded still not fully understanding how two men could be lovers. In Quor-toth he had never seen anything like it.

"My heavens, I do believe the boy has never seen fairies. How precious," said the pale one, Castor.

"Yeah, and my name's Pike," drawled the black-haired young man as he presented a hand to Connor. "You got a name, kid?" he asked as he possessively wrapped an arm around Constance's waist.

Constance pointedly removed Pike's arm, "His name's Connor. He just came in from L.A.. You know, the City of Angels," she explained.

"Hi Connor, welcome to Motown," said the last young man, "My name's Kyle," he said in a surprisingly soft voice that belied the bright orange-red spiked hair and metal studs scattered around his features. "I'm the brains of the group."

Connor shook his head, "I don't understand."

Kyle's smile widened. "I'm the magic man when it comes to computers. If you want to know something or don't want somebody to know something, I'm your man."

"So," Constance asked Pike, "Did you get lucky?"

"Nah," Pike answered. "They're gettin' wise to us. Most of them are heading for shelters as soon as the sun sets. I was thinking of heading for bum town near the swamps, but Kyle here, wanted to talk to you first."

"Bum town's not a good idea," Kyle said defensively, "There's too many of them. It might take too long and then we'd get caught by the cops," he explained.

Pike swaggered to the refrigerator, pulled out some beers and gave them to the others. He shook his head. "So that'd be a problem? How? We'd take them down too. No problem. It's not like we can die."

"Kyle's right," Constance said thoughtfully. "There'd be too much noise if we took some cops. It's one thing if we take out a few bums. Nobody gives a damn about some drunken loser, but a cop . . . They take that personal."

"So," Pike replied brashly, "What's the big deal?"

"I want to keep things quiet for a little longer. There are those who are able to stop us. If they get wind of what we're doing," she explained. She cast a quick glance at Connor. "But it won't be much longer now. I can promise you that."

II



Kato had just brought in a tray of coffee cups into the office of Britt Reid's townhouse when the chimes announcing Scanlon's arrival sounded.

"I'll get it," Britt said as he tilted selected books in the large bookcase set against a wall.

The fireplace, fire and all, rose, revealing the D.A. F.P. Scanlon standing in an elevator.

"You look tired, Frank," Britt said, greeting the district attorney.

With a nod of thanks, Frank received a cup of coffee from Kato as he tiredly lowered himself into a chair next to the fireplace. With a wry smile he watched the elevator platform rise as the fireplace settled back into place. "I don't think I'll ever get tired of your gadgets, Britt."

Taking his own cup of coffee, Britt settled into the chair across from Scanlon. Arms folded across his chest, Kato leaned against Britt's desk, listening alertly.

"So, what did you need to talk to me about?" Britt asked.

"There're things that have been happening lately that have been getting me worried," Scanlon began.

"What kind of things?" Britt asked.

"There've been a lot of mysterious deaths lately."

"I haven't heard about any mysterious deaths."

"The police have been keeping it quiet."

"Why? I would think if several people have been dying mysteriously, news of it would've leaked out. I can't imagine the victims' families staying quiet about it."

"Most of the victims have been homeless or street people. There's nobody who cares whether they're dead or not. The only way we know about it is when a beat officer finds a dead body."

"What's so strange about these deaths?" Britt asked.

"All of the bodies have been completely drained of blood."

Britt's eyes widened, as Kato leaned forward. "How?" Britt asked.

"Don't know. There's no sign of massive blood loss at any of the crime scenes. It just that there's no blood left in any of the bodies."

"Could it be that somebody's draining the victims and then dumping their bodies?"

"We've thought of that and are checking on it."

"But why would anybody do that?" Kato asked, puzzled.

"We have no idea," Frank responded tiredly.

"But there's something else, isn't there? Otherwise the police wouldn't be keeping it quiet," Britt guessed.

Frank nodded, "That's why I'm here." He contemplated the cooling coffee in his cup for a few moments. "You're both going to think that I'm nuts, but . . . "

"But what?" Britt pressed.

"Every one of those bodies look like they've been bitten by some kind of animal." The D.A. grimaced at his thoughts. "If I didn't know better I'd swear they look like they've been bitten by your classic vampire."

"Vampire? You think the city's homeless are being attacked by vampire bats?" Britt asked in disbelief.

Scanlon shook his head. "Not vampire bats. Vampires. You know the living dead. Dracula . . . "

"Now, Frank," Britt said, shaking his head, "You can't be serious. There's no such thing as vampires."

"You know that," Frank responded, "And I know that, but look at these pictures." He handed Britt a stack of photos from the inside pocket of his suit jacket. "Look at these and tell me what you think."

Britt shuffled through the pictures, the frown on his face deepening as he went through them. Then he handed them to Kato who also went through them. "What do you think?" Britt asked his valet.

"Looks like they were bitten by some kind of animal, but the marks are all wrong. It almost looks like a human bite, but the teeth . . . They're not right," he said, looking as puzzled as Britt and Scanlon when he handed the pictures back to the newspaper publisher.

"Looks like they were all bit in the neck," Britt commented.

"They were," Scanlon replied. "Right in the area of the jugular vein. In fact the M.E.'s thinking that's how they were bled. He calls it exsanguinated. We've sent pictures of the bites to animal experts all over the country. Nobody can identify them. Like Kato, they all say they look kind of like a weird human bite. Most of them think we were pulling their leg." Scanlon sighed. "I wish we were."

"So how can we help?" Britt asked.

"I want the Green Hornet to cruise around the city. Maybe he can spot something that the police haven't. Or maybe he might hear something through some of his contacts."

Britt nodded absently as he leaned back in his chair. "I can't say that chasing after vampires is really in the Green Hornet's realm of expertise, but it could be interesting. That is if we find something. Which I doubt. What do you think, Kato?"

Kato nodded his agreement. "I agree, but Mr. Reid . . . "

"Yes?"

"The Green Hornet may be out of his depth in this one."

"C'mon, Kato. Surely you don't believe in all that supernatural mumbo jumbo, do you?"

Kato shrugged. "There have many tales about the undead or those who feast on the blood of the living. Not only those coming from Eastern Europe, but also in the Far East. I have even heard of stories of a girl who was supposed to have been trained by monks much like the Shao lin as a vampire slayer. If the creature or creatures committing these acts are truly vampires, we may not be able to handle them."

"I'm surprised to hear you admit that there's something you might not be able to handle," Britt said wryly.

Kato bowed his head humbly. "I am only a man, as is the Green Hornet," he reminded Britt. "As mere mortals we could not hope to deal with such creatures. At least not alone."



Dressed in a long midnight green overcoat, a matching snap brim hat and a dark green mask, the Green Hornet followed Kato down into the garage. Like the Green Hornet, Kato wore a mask that conformed comfortably to his features, but unlike the Hornet's, his mask was black. Kato had also changed from his valet's white jacket and black tie to a black chauffeur's uniform.

Despite Kato's concerns about handling supernatural creatures, the Green Hornet savored the anticipation of action. He also noticed that Kato's steps were light and confident. Whatever his reservations, he knew the oriental preferred a night's prowling to contemplating the could be's and what if's. Better to find out the truth, than guess.

Standing at the pegboard in the garage, Kato twisted the end of a socket wrench hanging there with a series of audible clicks. A small panel opened in the pegboard revealing several switches and buttons. He touched a switch and the bright over head lights dimmed to a soft green. A button was touched and rams sprouted from the front and rear corners of the fenders of Britt's beige convertible. Another button was pressed. Large clamps rose from the garage's floor and gripped the rams with a heavy thunk. Then Kato touched another button and beneath their feet they could hear the deep-throated thrum of a powerful motor.

The garage floor under the convertible began to tilt then completely rotate. The convertible disappeared, revealing the Green Hornet's rolling arsenal, the Black Beauty. Even just sitting there, its black flanks gleaming softly in the dim green light, the massive vehicle radiated menacing power. Huge, powerful, armed with rockets, gas jets, a flying spy camera; few dared to challenge the Black Beauty and fewer still ever survived an encounter with it.

With a slight smile barely betraying his eagerness, Kato quickly shut the secret panel and headed for the invitingly open driver's side door. With a slight nod of approval, the Green Hornet followed him, entering the rear passenger seat.

"Kato," the Green Hornet said, "Test the Hornet scanner."

Kato flipped the lid of the armrest to his right open revealing an assortment of buttons, switches and telltales. He flicked a switch. Out of the Black Beauty's rear deck rose the scanner. Shaped somewhat like a satellite, the flying television camera beeped its readiness.

"Scanner, check," Kato said.

"Good," the Green Hornet responded.

He reached into the weapons locker hidden in a panel next to him and pulled out an oddly shaped green gun that looked vaguely like a streamlined luger. Sliding aside a catch, he slipped out a fluid filled cartridge from the gun's base. Satisfied with the level of the fluid in it, he snapped the cartridge back and checked a gauge on the side. "Hornet gas gun, check," he said, slipping it into an inner pocket of his overcoat.

Next he pulled out a slender black cylinder that was banded on both ends with gold. He flipped aside the domed end, and a loud buzzing whine filled the air. Satisfied, the Green Hornet flipped it closed again. "Hornet Sting, check," he said.

The Green Hornet settled into his seat. They were ready. "Kato, Let's roll."

Ahead of them the rear of the garage door including a planter and an ivy espalier, rose. The Black Beauty rolled silently out onto the patio and through the backyard. She rolled quietly through a series of interconnected alleyways until she came to a blank brick wall. The wall rose in front of them. A billboard on the other end separated, allowing the mighty vehicle through. Behind them the man and woman on the billboard were reunited in a minty kiss. The Green Hornet and Kato were again out on the town.