The Vampire Lawyer

Most of Vic’s type would be searching for their next blood meal or still sleeping this time of night. Not Vic.

He stood wearing a suit and tie on a stretch of sidewalk in one of San Francisco’s finest neighborhoods. A cold breeze from the Pacific slapped him in the face. Vic could see lights switch on in some of the mansions lining the street, and he wondered if anyone noticed him, some guy standing around outside at midnight.

Of course, the clients were late.

Vic wouldn’t have even taken this job if Thorost hadn’t made the rounds demanding money. The ancient beast didn’t even wait the full six months as agreed. That left Vic scrambling, and his current plan was risker than he wanted. It was always about blood, money or both with Thorost; Vic learned that long ago.

Vic was checking his white, Oxford shirt for any blood stains for the fifth time tonight when the clients’ Tesla finally pulled up. The car still had dealer plates, but it sported a nasty gash on the driver’s door and a crack in the windshield. The whole vehicle, though nearly factory fresh, was already covered in a coat of grime.

Cathy Jergens rolled down the driver’s side window and stuck her head out.

“Wow, you’re a big one,” she said at top volume while staring at Vic. “Are you sure, um? I mean, are you sure you don’t, not to paying clients? You leave them alone, right?”

“Mrs. Jergens, Cathy, why don’t you get out, so you don’t have to yell,” Vic said. “We have a deal as per the email. I’m a lawyer and we do have a set of ethics.”

Cathy nodded and stepped out of the Tesla. She wore a bedazzled sweatshirt with “Las Vegas” spelled out in sequins along the front. Atop her long gray hair was a cap with the name of some casino on it. She was followed by her husband, Kevin Jergens, who despite the cold wore only a T-shirt, shorts and flip-flops.

Cathy’s face looked vaguely familiar, but Vic couldn’t place how he recognized it.

“I understand you need to sell this home quickly, and we need to deal with your Aunt Farnsworth for that to happen,” Vic said.

Poltergeists are often protective of their former homes and thwart efforts to sell them. But the Jergens were broke and needed to unload the property fast. They’d burned through the rest of their inheritance with speed. Real estate professionals would call them “motivated sellers.” Vic was motivated as well with Thorost on his case, so it was time for the poltergeist in the home to go.

Houses in prime locations like this often had buyers coming forward with offers above already inflated asking prices, but not this one. The Jergens said the last real estate agent ran out of the home yelling “they are burning!” He’d run down the street waking up neighbors with his shrieks and the cops ended up taking him in for a psychiatric eval. Guy’s name was Stan, the Jergens had written in their email.

Once the poltergeist was gone, the Jergens could sell the home, pay Vic and return to Vegas.

“Let’s do this,” Vic said.

Cathy appeared hesitant.

“Are you sure it’s Auntie Farnsworth?” she said. “Couldn’t it be someone else.”

“You said she was the former resident before her passing,” Vic said. “Is that not the case?”

Cathy slowly nodded.

Vic continued, “The sooner we help Aunt Farnsworth leave, the better for everyone.”

“Well,” Cathy said. “Our auntie wasn’t much of a people person, but I’d hate it if she went anywhere terrible. I just want some humane place for her spirit to go? You said it’s doable.”

“I’m going to give it a shot,” Vic said.

The wind howled past Farnsworth’s house sounding like laughter. The upcoming trip out of the physical world had Vic concerned, but you had to show confidence to clients.

Vic motioned for the Jergens to follow as he began walking quickly toward the house. Vic checked his image using his iPhone. He wasn’t a mirror guy. With a little charm, maybe Farnsworth would be reasonable and cooperative? It was in her best interest after all.

Often poltergeists are OK people in life, but they get frazzled when they realize what’s happened and start taking things out on the living. On the other hand, some were bastards to begin with.

Kevin spoke up.

“Her husband didn’t haunt the place when he got killed.”

“He wasn’t killed dear,” Cathy said. “He died in an accident. The police said they had no evidence otherwise. Auntie’s lawyer said so.”

Vic stopped in mid-step. The husband had died young, but Vic’s research hadn’t yielded anything suspicious about the death.

Kevin turned on the font of information again.

“That landscaper, he’s gone.”

“What happened to the landscaper?” Vic asked.

“The guy was going around placing flyers at homes trying to drum up business for his gardening service,” Kevin said. “He’d never been to this area before. His pickup was abandoned a couple blocks over with all his stuff still inside. Someone told the cops they saw auntie inviting him into her house.”

“If Auntie Farnsworth knew anything about such a person, I’m sure she would have remembered,” Cathy said.

Things just kept getting worse with old Aunt Farnsworth. This was looking like a heavier lift than Vic first thought. Maybe he should square with the Jergens that this case was hopeless? Then he began thinking of ways to make things work. Perhaps an argument heavy on the everyone can be forgiven concept?

Then he felt it.

Vic stopped thinking about Farnsworth and held up his hand in warning.

It was coming.

The midnight calm enveloped them with the ocean waves crashing in the background and the breeze blowing in their ears. Vic was on high alert.

“It’s nearly here,” he said, glancing around. Still, nothing happened, then moments later the ground shook just enough so you could tell. Earthquake. It stopped shortly after it began, and Vic resisted the urge to take out his iPhone and check the temblor’s data on the US Geological Survey website.

“You can tell when earthquakes are coming?” Cathy asked.

“Yeah,” Vic said. He could tell. All quakes reminded him of 1906 when a temblor famously leveled the city of San Francisco, and a fire burned everything in its wake. Vic never knew who told Thorost the location that night. That info ultimately led the ancient beast to Vic, changing the attorney’s life forever. Anyway, whoever let the word out was long dead.

“I thought you stopped because you felt something wrong with this spot,” Cathy said.

Vic hadn’t noticed anything off kilter. They were standing in the middle of the street. “What’s wrong with it?”

“It’s the cat,” Kevin said.

“It was where our Auntie Farnsworth …,” Cathy said, stopping briefly to compose herself. “Jodie was my sister’s daughter. She was so young, and she couldn’t stop crying. She had this nice, old cat … and Auntie Farnsworth was in her car. I’m sure the cat is in a better place.”

Vic let a moment pass.

“Very unfortunate,” he said. “I’m sure the accident was devastating, Mrs. Farnsworth inadvertently running over the cat.”

“Auntie knew it was there,” Kevin said. “It took her several times before she got it. Jodie wanted to run and grab that old tabby, but we held her back. Too dangerous. Auntie kept backing up and re-aiming the car. Then she flipped us the bird and wouldn’t let us into her house.”

“Shhh …,” Cathy said.

“The sister’s husband left her for another woman and took their money. The sister and Jodie were living in their car,” Kevin said. “Auntie said she didn’t want homeless people inside her house. She wouldn’t let us inside either that day because she didn’t like my shoes. Ain’t nothing wrong with flip flops.”

“Jodie had cancer,” Cathy said. “She was just seven years old. Jodie was dying. My sister needed the money, but Auntie Farnsworth said she would call the police if we didn’t leave. She had money, a lot of it. You can see, she really wasn’t a people person.”

None of this had come up in Vic’s research. Stinking internet! If nobody else heard of Farnsworth, this plan might work. Still, he’d given him their word. Bottom line: Everyone deserves a defense, a chance to get their case heard. Even Farnsworth.

“Permission,” Vic said.

“What?” Kevin said.

“I can’t enter a home without permission, and you guys are the owners.”

Minutes later, Vic was inside.

******

No point in turning the light on. It would only alert the neighbors, and Vic could see just as well in the dark. The interior was an eclectic mix of large, ornate furniture that looked as if they’d never been used. The interior decorator seemed to favor anything that someone would look at and say “that seems expensive.”

“Mrs. Farnsworth?” Vic called out. He could sense her presence, but the former homeowner didn’t reveal herself. He’d find her soon enough, though the next step wouldn’t be easy.

Transcending the natural world and the ascent to the astral plane wasn’t dangerous per se; however, there were two problems. Doing this comes with a cost. Vic would have to undergo an ordeal. The other problem: Vic would have to leave his corporeal body behind, unguarded. Anything could happen, and that was a risk. The astral plane had no time; Vic could return in seconds or arrive back in hours. It wasn’t possible to predict.

Vic sat down in the nearest chair and projected himself outside of his physical body. His ethereal self still appeared as it did in the natural world with a suit and tie. He wondered what the ordeal would bring.

Then it began.

******

The sounds of people yelling and smell of dust were familiar. It was chaos. Houses reduced to piles of broken lumber, families digging through the rubble to find missing members. Vic experienced the worst days of his life in the aftermath of the Great 1906 San Francisco Earthquake, and he was now experiencing them again. Ruptured gas pipes were everywhere, and broken water lines couldn’t supply hydrants. The situation was ripe to get worse. Skinner, his first client, was there with matches.

Fires raged.

In a makeshift courtroom following the calamity, Vic argued the cops improperly searched Skinner’s home, their evidence should be dismissed. A novel strategy at the time, but the police chief and everybody else in the courtroom looked ready to hang Vic and Skinner then and there. Still, the judge agreed to consider, and Skinner let out a jaunty chuckle. That chuckle, you couldn’t forget it.

Vic wanted to look away, ignore the scenes that played out before him, but he couldn’t.

After court, deputies held Skinner at a secret location to avoid mobs coming to kill him. Vic was called there that night on the pretext of an emergency. He arrived to see Skinner’s corpse, shriveled and pale white, lying on a dirt floor next to two recently deceased deputies. “Impressive lawyering; I could use you,” came a low, threatening voice from behind. It was Thorost; the creature emerged from the shadows, a grotesque caricature of a human body with scales, long claws and a misshapen head. Vic never saw the sun rise again.

Vic didn’t know how Thorost discovered the location, and Thorost himself would only agree to answer at a steep price. Those who knew the site included only the judge, deputies, Skinner’s wife and Vic himself. That question of who told Thorost of Skinner’s location hung in Vic’s mind every night since.

******

The ended in a snap. Vic was back in the present looking down at his corporeal body from a new, translucent body identical to the one sitting back on the chair. The ordeal was done surprisingly quickly, too quickly. Often such experiences contained messages, but Vic didn’t want to think about this now. They needed to get the house sold so he could get paid.

“Mrs. Farnsworth,” Vic called out.

Nothing.

“Mrs. Farnsworth!”

Finally, the translucent apparition of a woman appeared. She held a cigarette in one hand and wore a poodle skirt and a cardigan sweater as if she’d stepped out from Mel’s Diner in the 1950s. Vic remembered what women wore in that decade. I like Ike, Vic recalled the presidential slogan from the time.

“You’re my first real visitor,” she said. “Others have come to my home, but you’re not human, are you? You’re not a scaredy.”

“Mrs. Farnsworth?”

“That’s me, can’t you see? Do you know about my last visitor? I mean, I didn’t know I had these powers. I made him see, in his mind, his family. Images of wife and child, large metal instruments. Flames. Screaming. He couldn’t help them. They wouldn’t die either. I just made him watch, thinking it all up on the spot. It was hilarious, but he ran out of the house.”

Farnsworth’s lips stretched into a grin.

“Mrs. Farnsworth, I’m an attorney and I’ve been retained by ...”

“They ran out of money and want to sell the home, don’t they?”

“This home is not an appropriate place for you to remain.”

“Well, I’m going to remain,” Farnsworth said. “It’s my home, and I don’t care if I’m dead. Look at me, I’m my young self again. I’m having too much fun, and I’m looking forward to more visitors, oh yes.”

“OK, we are offering you this deal,” Vic said. “I will lead you to a better place -- paradise is one word for it -- and I will give them my best argument as to why they should let you in.”

“This seems like paradise now. I think I’ll stay here because I’m having even more fun than in real life,” she said. “You do know my history, don’t you?”

“Your husband passed away in a tragic accident …,” Vic began.

“Oh no, that was me, and I can say it. The cops can’t get me anymore” Farnsworth said. “And that annoying gardener, got him too. I started early. The neighborhood girl, family lived in a pink house, didn’t just fall out of that tree. Then high school ....”

“No need to relate your life story, Mrs. Farnsworth. Of course, the decision to stay is yours, but I must tell you that your niece and her husband’s next step may be to hold a proper exorcism in the home,” Vic said, though he knew this was a bluff. The Jergens had thoroughly burned that bridge. You can’t order an exorcist like an Uber, and leaving nasty phone messages doesn’t help as the Jergens discovered.

“An exorcism would result in your spirit being expelled. It will also likely summon the Sepulchral Constabulary,” Vic said.

“The who?”

“The Sepulchral Constabulary, they are charged with guiding people after death to their assigned places. They can take on any form and appear at any time.”

“They take people to this paradise that you’re talking about?” Farnsworth asked as she took a puff from her cigarette.

“Uh no,” Vic said, holding up his hands. “Usually if someone is going there -- from my limited understanding -- their friends and loved ones come down to welcome them up.”

Farnsworth looked confused.

“It’s typical when someone is assigned the other place -- not paradise -- when the Sepulchral Constabulary’s services are required,” Vic said.

“Well, they’ve not bothered me,” Farnsworth said putting her hands on her hips.

“Mrs. Farnsworth,” Vic said. “You live in an old house; have you heard of Jane O’Connor?”

Farnsworth rolled her eyes.

“She lived in your home before you,” Vic said. “Do you know how many orphan children she helped?”

“Like I should care.”

“How many people she took in from off the street and fed meals to?”

“She wants those street people in her house, that’s her problem,” Farnsworth said before taking a puff from her cigarette.

“You should know this, Jane O’Connor’s work created an aura around this house. It’s what is preventing the Sepulchral Constabulary from reaching you. They are, well, demons essentially. An exorcism; however, will see you out permanently. But even without an exorcism, the aura could be broken if something happens to this structure.”

Vic stopped, hoping the words would sink in.

“I can guide you to a better place,” he said. “If the Sepulchral Constabulary do appear while we are enroute, I can object to them taking you.”

That last part was dicey. The Sepulchral Constabulary are notoriously difficult to work with and they have little incentive to cut anyone a break.

“I’m fine here,” Farnsworth said.

“This is eternal paradise that I’m talking about,” Vic said.

Farnsworth shook her head.

“You think people are still going to be coming to this house?” Vic said. “Yeah, sure, you’re having fun now, but word is already getting out. Nobody and I mean nobody will want anything to do with this place. You think you’re still going to get visitors? That’s not the worst of it. I can see some developer tearing this place down to rebuild something not associated with this home, and when that happens, you’ll be on your own.”

It looked like Vic was finally getting through.

“This is eternal paradise that you’re saying you want to take me?”

“Yes,” Vic said. “We go there, and I will see what I can do.”

“Very well.”

Vic looked back to make sure Farnsworth was following as they ascended to the astral plane. Fortunately, he could guide himself. In this portion, the astral plane lacked horizon, a proper sky or even a visible ground, and it was nearly pure white with any of its noted spheres a long way off. Vic needed to document this for the bill.

“You know the police actually said they didn’t have enough evidence, at least in terms of my husband,” Farnsworth said. “That proves I’m innocent.”

“Not correct.”

“The world was a lot better place without that old bastard.”

Vic didn’t respond. He kept a watch for the Sepulchral Constabulary as they trudged across the astral plane. He felt the gate before they arrived. The energy pushed against him and felt nauseating, and this was just a minor entrance.

It finally appeared ahead, a gate inlaid with gold and jewels. The smell of fresh baked cookies and coffee emanated from the other side as did laughter and music.

“Damn,” Vic said. “Gate’s closed.”

Two people, a man and a woman stood just outside. Both wore white and they immediately held up signs that read welcome.

“I’m Anna!” one yelled in a bubbly voice. “It’s so lovely to see you.”

“My name is Ted,” said the other. “What a pleasure to witness your arrival.”

They literally danced with joy. Vic had never seen anything like it. They both looked tan, slender and very healthy.

Farnsworth sniffed.

“Look at the smiles, those shit-eating grins,” she said. “What’s wrong with these people? Are they …”

“Mrs. Farnsworth!” Vic said, holding up his hand to demand quiet. “Why don’t you let me do the talking?”

Anna and Ted looked like cheerleaders, doing some gymnastic routine to cheer up a crowd.

Vic did his best try-to-hide-your-fangs smile and walked up to Anna and Ted, who began a 30-second-long dance routine. Vic thought the first dance looked like the cha-cha, then they went for the foxtrot. They ended with a tango.

They were actually pretty good. “Isn’t that nice Mrs. Farnsworth?” Vic said as he began clapping in applause. Even he didn’t know what to make of this spectacle.

Farnsworth faked a cough that sounded like the word “stupid.”

“Welcome!” Anna and Ted said again, voices overflowing with cheerfulness as they outstretched their arms.

“Oh, thank you, thank you,” Vic said. “I represent Mrs. Farnworth’s heirs. She only recently shed her mortal coil, and while this is a time of great sadness for her family, obviously, and Mrs. Farnsworth regrets …”

Vic stopped himself from laying it on too thick. Farnsworth didn’t look like she regretted anything.

“Her family is quite sad, indeed,” Vic said, though that was because they’d run out of money. “Mrs. Farnsworth, however, comes today prepared to enter eternal paradise.”

Vic smiled again and pointed to Farnsworth, who stood scowling with her arms crossed.

“Yeah!” Anna and Ted cheered in unison. “The gate is opening.”

Vic fell silent. He wasn’t expecting things to go smoothly. The gate was, in fact, opening. He watched it part and the cheers of joy and music sounded even louder. He thanked Anna and Ted and walked back to Farnsworth.

“Gate’s open, get in,” he said.

“Those two look low IQ, really, really stupid ...”

“Shut up and get inside eternal paradise.”

The next thing Vic heard was from Anna.

“Can we help with anything?”

“Oh no, we’re fine,” Vic said, giving her a thumbs-up.

Before Farnsworth could speak again, Vic grabbed her and shoved her past the open gates into paradise where there are no problems or worries, only eternal contentment. Vic could really feel the repulsive force pushing against his entire body. He had to fight it to get Farnsworth inside.

The gate closed. Anna and Ted looked befuddled.

“Aren’t you staying?” Ted asked.

“You’ve been so helpful,” Vic said. “I really wish I could stay. Unfortunately, I’ve got much work to do. Thank you for your help.”

Vic smiled and waved as he hustled away from the gate before anyone could change their mind or figure out what was actually happening. Things had gone far better than he thought, though a trip to the astral plane is still a trip to the astral plane -- and an expensive one for his clients. Still, the house should fetch bucks. Vic figured he’d help his clients sell it. He could put together a team of real estate agents and place the house on the market. It was so nice, there might even be a bidding war. Vic could see it now, though speed was of the essence.

Vic arrived back at the proper location for the descent to the natural world; he wouldn’t miss the astral plane one bit. He cracked his knuckles, stretched and readied for the return. He allowed himself a brief smile then he heard a voice, “Hey lawyer guy! Hey you!”

It was approaching.

“Hey you! Mr. Lawyer!”

It was Farnsworth.

“What are you doing?” Vic snapped. “Mrs. Farnsworth, get back to eternal paradise now!”

“I can’t stand it.”

“Mrs. Farnsworth, it’s not safe here. The Sepulchral Constabulary can arrive at any moment. You need to get back.”

“It’s Jodie, that little brat is there,” Farnsworth screamed. “She’s all happy and playing with the other stinking rug rats. I can’t bear it! Why does she have to be there?”

“Mrs. Farnsworth, you have few options …”

“Her lousy pet is there too! I thought that cat was road pizza.”

“Go back!”

“I will not! I’m returning to my home.”

“Your niece and her husband …”

“Screw my niece and her lousy, unemployed husband. It’s my home.”

Vic folded his arms in front of him and gave her an angry look. Farnsworth wouldn’t budge. It went on like this for what seemed minutes despite the astral plane having no time.

“Alright,” he said finally. “How about this? You keep a lid on your poltergeist proclivities long enough for them to sell the house. No exorcism, OK. Once it sells, you can give it to the new owners with both barrels. Fair?”

“What if the newbies have an exorcism?”

“I don’t know. Maybe you can try sporadic attacks, so they don’t associate what’s happening with a spirit? You’re the one who wants to go home.”

Farnworth nodded slowly.

“I like your plan.”

“Alright.”

Vic hadn’t seen this coming; he thought the hard part would be getting inside. Some people couldn’t take “yes” for an answer, apparently. Vince glanced back at Farnsworth one more time as he prepared for the descent. Then he took a second look, it was her face.

He didn’t know why it didn’t come to him immediately when he saw her; a cold shiver ran down his undead spine.

“Your maiden name, was it Skinner?”

“Oh no,” Farnsworth said. “My family hasn’t used that name for decades. We dropped it after grandaddy embarrassed himself. A fine family can’t have that sort of thing happening now, can they? It was time for grandaddy to go, and grandmama found someone who looked like they could get the job done. From the stories, he really looked like he could get the job done.”

Farnsworth gleamed as she told the story. “The family changed its name, and grandmama remarried. The next guy was another story.”

“Your grandmother had your grandfather killed by a vampire,” Vic said. Farnsworth’s grandmother was the one who told Thorost where to find Skinner, Farnsworth’s grandfather. “She told him where he was being held. She was his wife, one of the few who knew Skinner’s location.”

“That vampire’s lover was killed in a fire after the earthquake, you have to understand,” Farnsworth said, breaking out into a chuckle that Vic had heard before -- a chuckle that Vic heard Skinner make in the courtroom all those years before. “My grandmama went on and on and on. She thought she’d have to pay some hood to do the work. How lucky for her? You seem to know a lot about this, though. You know the name, Skinner.”

Vic said nothing, turned and began the descent. He had his answer to who led Thorost to Skinner, and ultimately to Vic himself. He’d sought the answer for years. It didn’t provide him any comfort. He almost began wishing the Sepulchral Constabulary would show up.

“You look angry, Mr. Lawyer,” Farnsworth said.

“Are you coming or not?

No further words were exchanged. Farnsworth flicked her cigarette out into the vast emptiness of the astral plane and followed Vic.

They descended through the levels of the astral plane. Vic had done his job, professionally to the bone. It was time to get paid. If Farnsworth went back on her word and returned to her old tricks, Vic would tear the house down with his bare hands and they would sell the vacant lot. He was going to get his money.

But something else wasn’t right.

******

Vic reentered his physical body and saw flames crawling up the walls while smoke surrounded him. He didn’t need to breathe, but the heat felt like being inside a blast furnace. Vic leapt up and crashed through the front door. He dropped onto the grass and rolled to put out the flames that burned his jacket.

Looking up, he saw the structure was fully involved. Visible flames shot out from inside and smoke poured from every window. Neighbors were already gathering in the street.

Sirens blared in the background, but he could still hear the crazed yelling of the man on the sidewalk. “I hate this place; I hate this place!” the man yelled. “Burn!”

The man wore an expensive Italian suit that was covered with dirt. Beside him was a can of gasoline and matches.

On the suit was a badge. It read “My name is Stan. Ask me how I can sell your home.”

Farnsworth’s apparition emerged from the burning residence.

“My house!” she screamed.

The flames advanced and the roof of the structure caved in with a loud crack that sent black smoke billowing into the night air. Even standing as far away as Vic did, the heat was incredible like opening the door to a hot oven. Well, at least the land would be worth something. That would surely still leave plenty of money, though this situation was hardly ideal.

A hook-and-ladder fire truck pulled to the scene with firefighters moving quickly into place. The ladder rose as Farnworth screamed “no, no, no!”

Vic looked to his right and thought he saw a second hook-and-ladder truck, but that wasn’t the case. It was an enormous serpent, its pitted head rising into the sky as its body coiled in preparation for a strike. Crowds of bystanders stood and working firefighters prepared their equipment, all oblivious to the supernatural reptile.

The Sepulchral Constabulary could come in any form, and this was their representative today.

Vic waived his hands at the serpent. “Objection!”

This was Farnsworth’s own fault. She could be in eternal paradise right now instead of watching another burning wall fall down. “Objection,” Vic yelled again.

The serpent snapped forward, taking Farnsworth into its mouth. Vic could see the top half of Farnsworth’s body still sticking out from the snake’s jaws. She banged her fists on its head. Then the serpent swallowed, and Farnsworth disappeared fully.

It’s enormous venom-filled head lowered to look directly at Vic.

“Sorry,” the snake hissed. “Didn’t hear you.”

It whipped around and vanished into thin air.

Vic could only watch as firefighters began efforts to extinguish the blaze.

At least Farnsworth would no longer be a problem, but then came the earthquake -- a violent one.

The shaking seemed almost as violent as 1906 all over again. Vic could barely stand upright as what was left of Farnsworth’s house collapsed into a fiery pile of rubble. The shaking intensified. The land on which Farnsworth’s house stood, a cliffside lot overlooking the sea fissured. The burning plot broke free from the rest of the cliff and slid into the ocean. Firefighters jumped from the hook-and-ladder rig a split second before it, too, fell. The shaking stopped. Unbelievably, the houses on either side of Farnsworth’s were unharmed.

There wasn’t even empty land they could sell. Kevin and Cathy ran toward him in slow motion; Kevin unspooled a garden hose as he came along.

“We didn’t pay the insurance!” Kevin yelled, sweat dripping from his forehead. He stopped in right as he reached the newly formed precipice that formerly housed the sidewalk that ran in front of Farnsworth’s home. Cathy let out a gasp. Then they both stood silently. Where once Farnsworth’s home stood was now an unobstructed view of the Pacific. The moonlight cast an eerie glow of over the smoldering, steaming mess on the rocks below.

Vic wondered what he would tell Thorost? He’d press for more time to come up with the cash. At least he knew who told Thorost where Skinner was, and by extension Vic, that night long ago. Not that the old beast would care, Thorost cared only about blood and money.

For now, the cold ocean breeze helped clear away the smoke.

THE END

Bio: Craig J. Johnson lives and works in Silicon Valley and enjoys trips to the Computer History Museum and going to sci fi cons. So far, he has not published a fiction short story. This is his first.

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