Stranger than Fiction

Chapter 11

Jo finished scrubbing the drain debris from the cabinets and counter top, and went to the bathroom to wash her hands. Hopefully that sink would behave itself. Fangula had offered to stay and help her clean up, but she didn't want to risk having her room mate find him here, especially since both of them still had rather wet hair; so, rather than having to explain themselves, they had kissed and said good-night. She could just imagine the sly looks and the questions they would get if he had stayed. Has Jo been a naughty girl? Did her boyfwiend give her a spanky-wanky? Shame shame, I know your name…

Jo groaned aloud in disgust. That was just the sort of thing Kate would say, too. Jo dried her hands on a towel, and went back out to sit on her bed. She had intended to watch some TV before turning in, but then she saw the gift that Fangula had given her earlier. The fake black rose lay undisturbed where she had put it, suddenly seeming infinitely more precious than a dozen of the real ones. How cute he had looked, clutching it in his hand as if he were a child offering a dandelion. She picked up the flower, and was about to bring it to her face so that she could feel the soft feathers against her cheek, when Flabber's face appeared in the center of the rose bud. She jumped, almost dropping it, then sighed. "You scared me." she said reproachfully, managing a weak smile.

"Sorry, Jo, but this is important. You remember Vlad the Impaler?"

A chill swept over her as she recalled the vampire's face, how on their first meeting he had made as if to kiss her hand, but at the last moment had tried to bite it. "Yeah. What about him?"

"Well, he's here! Not here at Hillhurst, but here in Charterville, and he's mad as heck! He just left, and he's on his way over to the dorms. You gotta get outta there!"

"Right!" Jo began to put the flower down, but Flabber wasn't finished.

"Wait! Fang's mother's here, too. She told me to tell you to come to Hillhurst. I think you should get Drew and Roland; you never know with Vlad the Impaler. You might need them." And with that, Flabber's face disappeared.

Jo swallowed hard. What had she gotten herself into now? She hadn't actually had to Borg in almost a year, but she had an idea that she would be in less danger if she did so before leaving. This was no ordinary vampire; this was the commissioner of all vampires, and rumored to be the very first.

Standing in the middle of the room, she held out her right hand, palm up, and called as loudly as she dared, "Data bonder!" Purple lightning traveled down her arm, and a small device about the size of a computer mouse appeared in her hand. She said "Input card!", inserting a small metal card into the device, then she held it above her head. "Beetle Blast!"

A moment later she stood fully garbed in her Beetleborg armor, which enveloped her body like a second skin, neither pinching nor chafing. Her nose was filled with the faint smells of ozone and metal; a low, almost inaudible hum of air filters and who knew what other gadgets sounded near her ears, and the feeling of homecoming was finally complete.

* * *

Drew and Roland had arranged to meet Art Fortunes that night at a pub in Urbana City. Art Fortunes, a cartoonist by trade and the creator of Beetleborgs Comics, was much older than they were, and not much of a drinker. Still, he shared a good deal of history with the legendary trio, so he had agreed to meet them at a place of their choosing. He was at a loss when he saw only Drew and Roland, and he became downright worried when he noticed that Drew was downing his fourth beer, while he himself had barely gotten through half of his first. "Don't you think you should pace yourself a little bit?" he asked, "We didn't even eat yet."

Roland, who was also working on his first drink, glanced first at Drew, then at Art. The look on his face was one of worry, but it was a different sort of worry; he actually seemed to know what was going on. "Something wrong?" asked Art.

Drew finished his drink, and ordered another. The bartender raised an eyebrow as he went to get it; they had only been there for half an hour. He hoped that this kid would be able to make it to the men's room, because at this rate he'd be needing it.

Drew rubbed his temples, and sighed. "My sister's in love."

"But…that's not bad, that's good!" the cartoonist was confused.

"With Count Fangula." Roland finished, munching on a pretzel. Drew had told him some of it. "Little Ghoul cast a love spell on them, and it's irreversible. That's why Jo didn't come with us; she needed time alone to think."

Art shook his head, feeling a stab of pity for Drew and his sister, and even a little bit for Fangula. "Jeez…how do you feel about all this?" he asked Drew.

"How do you think I feel about it?" the younger man shot back, his cheeks scarlet with sudden anger and with the drink, "He almost boffed her in the park for fuck's sake! He even bit her on the neck, and the worst part is I can't even blame him for it! He isn't just trying to get some, he really loves her; so I can't even be mad at him!"

Art sat there, slack-jawed and actually a little bit afraid of Drew at the moment. He hadn't expected such a vehement, colorful reply. The bartender set down the beer, and said to Drew, "Hey buddy, if you don't lower you're voice, I'm 'onna have to ask you to leave."

Drew just put his head in his hands, his fingers poking through his hair. He didn't feel like dealing with the bartender right now, or anyone else for that matter. The bartender, seeming satisfied, nodded and left to wait on some other customer.

"You crying?" asked Roland.

"No." came the muffled reply, and it was obvious that he was.

"Sorry I brought it up." Art said, picking up his beer and making as if to drink it, then setting it down instead.

"It's just…it's my sister, you know?" Drew mumbled, "It's not that I have anything special against him, I just…I don't want to see them together, you know? Told Jo it was up to her, but I don't want her to love him…He's a vampire, you know?"

"I know." Art said, giving Drew's arm an awkward pat. "But it is her choice, and she's not doin' this to hurt you. She's a smart girl. Trust her to do the right thing."

"Ulp…" Drew got up and made a mad dash for the men's room. Roland followed, and came back to report that Drew was, quote, 'driving the great white bus,' unquote.

"Poor kid," the cartoonist sighed, taking a sip of his drink. "Seems to be taking it pretty hard."

Roland nodded. "Actually, I'd rather see him like this than like he's been the past few days. Going around like a sleepwalker, and all. Shocked him pretty bad…shocked me, too, but then I'm not her brother. At least now he seems to be coming out of it. Maybe he'll be okay after tonight. Don't think I've ever seen him bawl before, though."

"Mmm…he might be afraid of losing her altogether. My brother and I had our differences and all, but when he killed himself…" he trailed off, his face becoming introspective.

"I remember." Roland nodded, thinking back. Art had been over for a visit when Flabber had sensed the death of Les Fortunes just as it happened, and of course the phasm couldn't just keep it from him. The cartoonist had wept in uncontrollable spasms, unable to stop for a long time, though he hadn't wanted to do it in front of them; he simply couldn't help it. Roland and the other two had thought it best to leave, thereby allowing him to mourn with some dignity; the last memory Roland had of that time was Art fortunes standing there in the parlor with Flabber, the phasm supporting him firmly and seeming to be the only thing that kept him from falling to the floor. It was a heartbreaking scene, one that Roland hoped he would never again have to witness.

"He just needs some time." said Art. "At least his sibling's still alive."

Roland thought it best not to reply to that, and they continued to sit in silence until Drew returned.

"Sorry about all that." he said as he sat back down. "I didn't mean to spoil everything."

"Hey, don't worry about it." The cartoonist tried to sound upbeat, "I wouldn't feel much like celebratin' either. Maybe we should…" he had been about to suggest that the leave, when a voice came from the bar.

"Drew, can you hear me?" It was Jo's voice, coming from the Data Bonder that seemed to have been there all the time, but of course it hadn't been.

Drew just stared stupidly, so Roland picked it up. "Jo?"

"Roland? Where's Drew?" she asked, sensing that something was amiss.

"He's here, he's just…well, what's up?"

"Hopefully not my number." She replied dryly, "Vlad the Impaler's back, and he's pissed."

"Huh?" Drew frowned, finally coming alive.

"Somehow he found out about me and Fangula. Flabber just told me, and Fangula's mother's here, too."

"What's she want?" asked Drew.

"Same thing, I assume…Have you been drinking?"

"Shit…"

"I better go," Roland said, "Art, do you think you can drive him home?"

"Wait a minute!" Drew protested as the cartoonist nodded, "I'm coming, too."

"Drew, there's no way you can drive your sector cycle or your BV like this, let alone fight." Roland told him.

"But…"

"Go with Art, Drew." Said Jo over the Bonder, sounding neither angry nor disappointed, but hurried. "I'll be okay with Roland; if you got hurt because of me, I'd never be able to live with it."

"But…"

"Please, Drew. Go with him, for me. We'll stay in touch through the Bonders, but I have to leave now."

The urgency in her voice pierced them, even spoken through the device, and Drew finally agreed. The three of them left the pub, and Roland went into an alley to Borg while Drew was sick again on the sidewalk. "You're not a big drinker either, huh?" the cartoonist observed, supporting Drew while he retched.

"Hard to tell, right?" Drew quipped, when he was able to speak. "God, I feel like such an ass. Jo needs me, and I'm plastered."

"Come on, you didn't know." Roland said, coming out of the alley in his armor. "Just get out of here, and get some sleep. And, uh, here…you might be needing this." He tossed drew an old bucket he had found in the alley. Art, in particular, appreciated this; he was driving a new Dodge Intrepid, with an all-leather interior, and all he had in it that might be suitable was a small receptacle for snotty tissues.

Roland left on his sector cycle, and Art drove Drew to the dorms. Drew didn't get sick on the way, but when they were about halfway there he burst into tears. Art was really at a loss then, and could think of nothing to do except pull over. "Hey, it'll be okay." He said helplessly.

"You don't know that."

"No, but I can believe it, and so can you."

"But Jo…"

"The best thing you can do for your sister is to stay out of it tonight, and get sober." Art told him firmly, handing him a tissue. "It's not entirely your fault you can't be there, it's just bad timing."

"This is all because of Fangula…no, Little Ghoul, it's all because of her I'm gonna lose Jo. And I will lose her either way, to Vlad or Fangula, it's all the same!"

"You're not gonna lose her. Count Fangula may not be your idea of an ideal match, but he won't keep her from still being your sister. And she can take care of herself. She'll be okay."

"How can you say that?" Drew asked, calming down a bit. "You know what it's like to lose someone. Your brother shot himself." He immediately regretted saying that; the cartoonist went white as a sheet. "Sorry, Art. I didn't mean…"

"No, you're right. He did shoot himself. I did lose him. But that'd be the only way you'd lose Jo, I'm sure of it, and she'd never do that. My brother was insane; she's steady as a rock." He started up the car again, and they were off.

"I really am sorry, though. I wasn't thinking."

"I saw how many beers you had, Drew. Don't worry about it."

* * *

Vlad was heading for the dorms when he spotted Jo on her sector cycle as she speeded towards Hillhurst. He dove, slamming into the side of her head and sending her and her vehicle careening off a cliff. Jo, who wasn't expecting such an attack, absorbed the full force of the blow; her head bounced as she tumbled down the steep bank, and she lost consciousness before she hit the bottom.

* * *

"Ahh!" Flabber groaned, clutching his head and gritting his teeth as if in unbearable pain. Fangula was instantly alarmed, and not just for Flabber's sake; the phasm had had a similar reaction when Les Fortunes had put a pistol in his mouth and pulled the trigger.

"Something's happened, I know it! Is it Jo?"

The phasm couldn't answer right away, and an engine was heard from outside. Fangula rushed out, expecting to see Jo, but it was only Roland. The vampire peered down the road, but there was nothing. He went back inside in disgust, and nearly bumped into Flabber. His blood, which was normally cool anyway, suddenly seemed to freeze in his veins. The phasm had tears in his eyes. "It's Jo…there was an accident…she…she needs an ambulance."