Simon, Mary, Richter and Velora stood opposite a large touch-screen computer console. The Puerto-Rican was programming the last few bits and pieces while Richter explained how it worked.
"You need three overall passwords to actually access it, and from there all there is to it is typing in six different keywords to shut down the other systems. Easy as very difficult pie," she said.
"We're hooked up, baby!" Velora exclaimed. "All we need are the passwords."
Mary turned to Simon. "Simon, I trust you more than I trust myself. I want you to give them the passwords."
He raised an eyebrow, and so did Richter. "What?" he asked.
"I can't rely on my own will much anymore. I know that you'll be the last line of defense against whatever tries to get in or out of…there."
He shrugged and Mary left the room. As she closed the door, she leaned against it and took a deep breath. This was it; she would never lay eyes on that coffin again. Short of a pocketsize nuclear bomb, no one would ever see the inner chamber until Judgement Day.
She heard muffled voices on the other side of the door, and realized Simon was telling them the nine secret words they needed to lockdown the basement.
Soon the three emerged and Velora gave Mary a smirk. "Your man's got it all set. Thanks for the business."
Richter passed her as well. "Got any complaints, call us. We've got tech support 24 hours a day."
"Thank you. I'll be in touch," she said as they left.
Simon stood beside her and watched them go. "You're sure you want to put so much trust in a computer system? Hackers today…it's just another challenge for them."
Mary smiled. "I'm not stupid, Simon. There is much more down there than lasers and machine guns in the walls. My father had the right idea with triggered spikes and deadfalls."
"There's much more down there than just spikes and deadfalls, too. Are you sure this is how you want it? I mean, are you sure it's secure?"
"If it's not, then God hasn't created a system strong enough to hold him back."
"Ms. Van Helsing, there are two men here to see you."
Mary looked up and saw two black-suited men come into the room and sit down. Their solemn faces didn't put her at ease.
"What can I do for you gentlemen?" she asked.
"It seems," one began. "That you have recently received service from a pair claiming they represent SecuraSafe Systems. Is this true?"
She paused and gave them a suspicious eye. "Yes…what do you mean, 'claiming'?"
"Ma'am, we mean that these two are a con team. They set up security systems that only they can hack under the guise of employees of ours. Then, after the customer seems satisfied, they come in and steal whatever they just helped to secure."
Mary's blood froze. "What?"
"You heard right, ma'am. We suspect they are still around the area, since they visited you just…"
"Yesterday."
"Right. They are still nearby and are waiting to steal whatever it is you protected with them."
Mary stood up and braced herself on the table. "This cannot be allowed!"
"Ms. Van Helsing, we realize you are upset. We are offering to protect your valuables while we get some of our top hackers on the project. We're sorry for the inconvenience." They stood.
"When will they be here?" she demanded.
"Tomorrow morning. Remain calm, Ms. Van Helsing. There's no way they'd try to break in so soon after setting up."
The walked out and she felt a twinge of fear as the door closed. Tomorrow's not soon enough. I'm not even sure today was soon enough.
The room is damp and chilled. She feels her feet stumble on the stone floor and she reaches out to touch the coffin. The metal is cold, almost freezing. Her warm fingers tense up and she feels someone standing behind her.
Do it, Mary. Let me out.
She pulls back and curls into a ball. "No…I won't. You're not there anymore…you burnt half a century ago!"
But I am. Turn the knob.
"Never! I'm not even here. This place…it's forgotten. It's locked down. You're forgotten."
Never.
She cries a tiny bit and feels someone touch her shoulder. She gasps and looks around quickly and realizes it's not him, but the woman…Anne! She is in here with her.
"Anne, you need to get out!" she cries. "This place…"
But Anne doesn't speak. Blood drips down her neck from a thin, shallow cut. Her hands are bathed in red, and huge gaping holes leak blood from her palms. Carlos lies, dead, across the room in nothing but his boxers. His eyes are wide and blank. Anne's are the same.
Suddenly he is there, across the coffin. She lets out a cry when she sees him climb over and sit on his own sarcophagus, leaning over and staring into her eyes.
You place too much faith in electricity, Mary.
She shakes her head violently, holding her arms and curled on the floor. Her skin is freezing; she feels like ice.
You fear what can't touch you and then trust too much in what you don't see.
She screams, and he bends down and quiets her with his mouth, and they are embracing and the same feeling of being torn apart goes through her…
"God!"
Mary sat up in sheer animal fear. She was relieved to see she was still in bed, but what was that little red light? Something was illuminating her room in crimson.
She eased out of bed and drifted over to the small computer console that sat on her desk. An image of two people moving down the basement corridor sent bolts of fright through her gut.