CHAPTER 5
One week later
Chaim was back in the conference room. The last week had been more of a challenge than he’d expected. The list of tests the doctors wanted to run had kept growing. He’d found some of them interesting, from what he knew so far about physiology. A few of them mystified him, including the DNA tests. He wasn’t sure why that would be important to a study of vampires, but then, he was neither a doctor—yet—nor an expert on vampires, despite being one. But the last of the tests had been wrapped up that morning, and he’d been asked to wait here. So he was waiting. Bored, but waiting. He couldn’t even pull his cell phone out and read, because he’d left it in his bedroom.
The door opened, and Rabbi Mendel walked in, followed by Dr. Hurwitz and Mordechai Zalman. They all seated themselves, Mordechai at one end of the table and the other two across the table from Chaim.
“To begin with, Mr. Caan,” Dr. Hurwitz said, “let me thank you again for agreeing to participate in our study. The data we’ve collected in the last few days gives us more insight to the vampiric condition and how it comes about than anyone has ever had before. We still don’t know what the actual cause is, but once it begins, we can trace its effect and changes with much better understanding now because of you.”
Chaim quirked his mouth a bit. “Call me Chaim. Mr. Caan is my dad. And for what it’s worth, you’re welcome. I learned a little bit through this exercise, too, although certainly not as much as you apparently did.”
Hurwitz smiled. “We’re still working on the final reports for Dr. Mendel and his group, but I think they will be pleased by them.” He sobered. “I almost hate to ask this, but is there any chance you could stay with us for a few months and let us do additional tests and take additional measurements as you continue to develop?”
Chaim blinked. He needed to get started on figuring out how he was going to continue school, he thought. Not to mention how he was going to support himself.
Before Chaim could say anything, Mendel spoke up. “This may help you make a decision.” He opened a folder and slid something across the table to Chaim.
He found himself looking at a check made out to him in the amount of five thousand dollars. His eyes widened and he looked up at the rabbi.
“That is your stipend for the last few days.”
“I told you they’d pay you,” Zalman reminded him with a grin.
Chaim looked at the check. “Well, that should make my father happier when he finds out about it.”
“You will receive that much every month that you remain in the testing program, plus room, regular clothing expenses, and…ah…sustenance,” Mendel concluded with an awkward substitution for “food” or “board.”
Chaim shrugged. “I’m sure that sixteen ounces of human blood every three days isn’t cheap.”
“Roughly sixty dollars per liter,” Mendel said. “Not outrageous. About the price of a good bottle of wine, actually.” He smiled. “We’ve been doing this for a while, and we have reliable sources of supply.”
Chaim looked down at the check, shrugged, and looked up again. “I’m okay with this. Frankly, I’m going to need the money. But I need something to do. I can’t just sit in windowless rooms all day when I’m not being tested, and your cable TV selection sucks.”
“I agree,” Mendel said. “We’ll see if we can do something about that. Israel”—he looked at Hurwitz—“you have your agreement. Go tell your team to start designing that long-term protocol.”
“Indeed!” Hurwitz got to his feet and leaned over to offer a handshake to Chaim. “Thank you, again, Chaim. We’ll talk to you in a few hours about what we’ll be doing.” With that, he bustled out of the room.
When the door closed, Chaim sighed and looked at the other two men—if one could use that word for Zalman the vampire. “All those tests, and I still don’t know any more about me or what’s going to happen with me.”
Zalman leaned forward and laced his fingers together on the table before him. “We’ve read the preliminary report summaries. I can give you the highlights.”
Chaim looked at him. “So, give, already.”
“What data they have from you after the last few days bears out that becoming a vampire, whatever the actual cause, does trigger some metabolic changes. That’s been understood since they first examined me some time ago. But now, they get to see it happen.
“For example, you’ve lost a noticeable portion of your body fat just in the time you’ve been here. Now”—Zalman held up a hand to forestall Chaim’s obvious retort—“part of that is undoubtedly due to your significant change in diet.” He grinned. “But part of it is metabolic in nature. You’ll notice that I’m not exactly pudgy.” He poked a finger into a very lean cheek. “The other vampires we know of are much the same. So they kind of expected to see that, and were gratified to observe it.”
“Okay, so I’m going to be skinny. I’m okay with that,” Chaim said. “What else?”
“Despite the body fat reduction, you haven’t lost any weight,” Zalman continued. “In fact, you’ve gained a bit.”
Chaim thought about that. “I’m not noticeably larger. Muscle density?”
Zalman nodded. “That, and bone density as well. The minerals from the blood you consume are optimized for your development, especially iron, potassium, and calcium, so your new metabolism is rebuilding you from the inside out, as they say. That’s one of the reasons they want to have you stay, so they can track that. I’m guessing it will take at least three to four months if you get regular blood supplies, maybe a bit longer.”
“So all those stories about super-fast super-strong vampires are true?” Chaim was grinning. He couldn’t help himself.
Zalman snorted. “Faster, yes. Stronger, yes. But not a superman.” He shook his head once.
“How much faster and stronger?”
“I can run fifty meters in about four seconds,” Zalman stated. “Closer to three if I really push myself. That’s almost half the current world record. I have run a full marathon distance in less than ninety minutes, which is twenty-five percent faster than the current world record. I weigh a bit over ninety kilograms, and I can regularly bench press four hundred kilograms. That’s a bit over ten percent over the current world record, which was set by an absolute ox of a man. I haven’t tried for a maximum. And I know from personal experience that small-arms fire doesn’t produce serious damage. Shotguns don’t even penetrate.”
“Wow.” Chaim was impressed. “They’ll have to invent whole new Olympic categories if you—we—ever go public.”
“That said”—the older vampire directed a stern glare at Chaim—“that does not mean that I am immortal. Cut my head off, I’ll assuredly die. Blow a twelve centimeter hole through my chest with a cannon, I’ll die. Douse me in gasoline and set me on fire, I’ll likely die, and I’ll certainly feel the pain. Strap me to a biggish bomb and blow me up? I’ll die.” His thin-edged grin appeared again. “But other than that, I am very hard to kill.” He sobered. “On the other hand, the oldest vampire I know of was about my age or a bit older, and I don’t know of any vampire who died of old age or its equivalent.”
Chaim nodded. “That makes sense, I guess.” He thought for a moment. “Stake through the heart? Holy water? Cross? Silver? Sunlight? Turn into a bat? No mirror reflection? Can’t enter a building without being invited? That the standard list?”
Mendel pursed his lips and nodded.
Zalman echoed the nod. “I think that’s the one. Okay, in order.” He held up his left index finger.
“Stake through the heart: remember we said we’re observing increased muscle density. The heart is already one of the toughest muscles in the body. With what we’re expecting to see, a standard stake, even if it was pushed all the way through the chest and out the back, would very likely just push the heart up and out of the way, not even really bruise it. A diamond or monomolecular point and edge might slice the heart, but the odds are high that even that wouldn’t penetrate the heart through and through. Did I mention amazing recuperative powers? Yeah, that part is almost true.”
Middle finger was next raised. “Holy water? We have no definite proof that that has ever been effective. Personally, I think it’s either wishful thinking on the part of the Catholic Church or psychological susceptibility on the part of the oldest vampires.”
“Big words for a guy born in the eighteenth century.” Chaim smiled.
Zalman made a universal hand sign in his direction and continued. “Certainly holy water has never worked on Jewish vampires. On the other hand, I’m not discounting what would happen if powerful acids were thrown on us. Even water well-laced with quicklime would be unpleasant, especially if it got in our eyes.”
Ring and little fingers up together next. “Same story for silver and crosses, either together or separately. Doesn’t work on us, don’t know if they work or not on other vampires.”
“What about other holy symbols?” Chaim asked.
Zalman grinned and used his other hand to hook a necklace out from under his shirt collar. Chaim saw a silver Magen David pendant with Hebrew writing inlaid in the middle of it hanging from a silver chain. “That answer your question?”
Chaim nodded.
Three fingers on the right hand raised. “Turn into a bat, no mirror reflection, and having to be invited. All appear to be nothing but assimilated folklore. All I can say is that I have never turned into a bat or any other creature, and neither has any other vampire I’ve ever known. Likewise with the invitation to enter and the lack of mirror reflection things, both of which—even for folklore and old wives’ tales—are just ridiculous.”
Zalman dropped his left hand and raised his remaining right finger. “Now we get to the sunlight issue. There is some evidence that there is something to that.”
Chaim’s eyebrows raised and he sat up straight. “No kidding? What gives?”
Zalman gestured with palm up to Mendel. “Your turn, Rabbi.”
Mendel grimaced before speaking. “The change does some things to your body beside the metabolic shifts and structural changes. Your whole system becomes more sensitive to radiation, and that’s one of the things that Dr. Hurwitz’s team wants a better baseline on, so you’ll be dealing with a lot more tests in that area.”
“Huh.” Chaim pursed his lips for a moment. “That probably explains why the MRI tickled and the full-body CT scan made me itch all over.”
“Undoubtedly. And after the first time you made those comments, you wouldn’t believe the arguments they sparked among the team in private.” Mendel’s mouth spread in a big grin which lifted up the fringe of his beard. “I love to see scientists arguing about what primary observations mean. It means they’re doing real work.”
His smile faded away. “So an increased sensitivity to sunlight or radiation could cause a number of problems, especially in deserts and lower latitudes.” He tapped a finger on the tabletop a few times. “The other thing is that there appears to be a mutation that happens in the eyes.”
“Mutation?” That was an alarming announcement to Chaim. “What mutation? Why? How?”
“If he is a yardstick to go by”—Mendel waved a hand at Zalman—“your eyes are going to change. You’re a premed student, so I’m certain you know of the rods and cones in your eyes.”
“I’ve had the beginning physiology class,” Chaim said. “There are about twenty times as many rods in the human eye as there are cones, and there are millions of cones. Rods provide
low-light-level vision, fine-detail vision, and no-color vision. Cones activate at higher light levels, provide color vision, but not as much detail. They work together to provide spatial acuity. Professor Morgan was an eyeball fan,” he said with a grin. “We spent an entire month on the eye and the optic nerve.”
“Indeed.” Mendel nodded, then continued with, “This is something else the team really wants to study. It appears that some of your rods are going to shift to a third state, something in between rods and cones. They don’t have a word for it yet. They’re just calling the original rods Type A rods and calling the new ones Type B rods. It appears that the Type B rods will greatly expand your night vision, providing much better detail and at least some color vision at lower light levels. And if you follow Mordechai’s pattern, you will see a little deeper into the infrared part of the spectrum as well.”
“Dr. Hurwitz’s comment after they observed me was that I was an excellent design for an apex nocturnal predator.” That thin, slicing grin was back on Zalman’s face.
“A reasonably astute assessment,” Mendel said as he combed his fingers through his beard. “However, there are drawbacks—one big one, anyway. Exposure to really bright light for extended periods of time is literally painful, and it appears it might serve to permanently degrade vision after a certain amount of exposure.”
“So a vampire left in the desert would fry from the radiation and go blind from the light?”
Mendel spread his hands. “Quite possibly. And it certainly would be one factor to explain why vampires are not the overlords of Earth.”
“Yet,” Zalman said with a grin.
“So how do you deal with it?” Chaim turned to face Zalman, who shrugged.
“First, don’t go out in the daylight unless you absolutely have to. Second, if you have to, wear long sleeves, full length trousers, gloves if you can get away with it, and wide-brimmed hats. These days, there are radiation-resistant fabrics, as well. Third, SPF 50 or higher sunscreen applied liberally and often. And finally, if you have to go out, very dark wraparound sunglasses and, if possible, very specially designed polarized contact lenses.”
“Wow.” Chaim set his elbows on the table, interlaced his fingers, and rested his chin on his thumbs. “I was hoping the sunlight thing would be bogus, too. Guess not. It does sound like I’m definitely going to have to adopt a nocturnal lifestyle.”
“Yes,” Mendel said. “I’m sorry.”
“Why? It’s not your fault. If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s that blonde bitch that converted me.” Chaim snorted. “‘Converted.’ That certainly has new meaning and import compared to what it usually means when we talk about Jews converting. I still haven’t figured out how I’m going to explain this to my parents. Or if. They weren’t real happy about my leaving home for a few weeks of ‘helping run some tests.’ I can’t imagine how they’ll react to finding out there really are vampires and their number one and only son is one.”
“If—when—the time comes,” Mendel said gently, “let me know and I will give you what help I can.”
“Thank you.”
There was a long moment of silence, then Mendel said, “One last thing. We would like a copy of your college transcript just to show some evidence of general intelligence and education. It will be anonymized, of course. Would you be willing to sign a request for it?”
Chaim shrugged. “Don’t need to. I have a copy of the transcript and my last few grade reports on my laptop. I was getting ready to start sending applications out for internships for next summer, so I already requested one. You want it sent to the email address you already gave me, or somewhere else?”
“That would be fine,” Mendel replied. “Enough for now. You’ve had a long day, Chaim, and I expect Dr. Hurwitz’s team will have you up bright and early tomorrow—for certain values of bright and early. Get some rest.”
“You’re probably right, Rav Avram.” Chaim sighed. “Or actually, I’m sure you’re right. I know I’ll have other questions, but it’s not like there’s a deadline, now, is there?” After a moment, he grimaced. “No pun intended.”
Both the older men smiled. “Good night,” they chorused as they stood and trooped out of the conference room together.
Chaim remained in the conference room. For a long moment he just stared at the wall opposite him, not really seeing it, just thinking.
He realized he’d mostly been going through the motions the last few weeks—that although the front of his mind had seemed to accept and understand how he had changed, how he had been changed—the back of his mind, his subconscious, whatever it was, had not. It had been rolling along ignoring all of the changes and just assuming that things would get back to normal sooner or later.
But tonight—tonight had gotten through. The kind of changes Mendel had described were permanent—were irreversible. It sank into the core of Chaim’s mind and being that he wasn’t a normal guy anymore. He would never be “normal” anymore. Never again. He was a vampire…with everything that implied.
Chaim stood and went down the hall to the restroom. He stood there, staring at himself in the mirror over the sink. He could see outward evidence of the changes. Hell, even his mom had. His face was leaner, the facial bones were more prominent. He looked like a different person.
That thought caused him to laugh bitterly. It was appropriate that he look like a different person—because he was.
A sudden surge of anger flooded through him and rocked his mind. His fists balled, his teeth gritted so strongly he heard them creak. As he stared at himself, his anger mounted, again, and again. Disgust and self-hate poured through his mind.
“You punk bastard,” he muttered. “You were so desperate for a girl to like you, you let this happen. You pathetic excuse for a man.”
The next instant, before he was consciously aware of it, Chaim drove his fist into the center of the mirrored image’s face. The mirror glass shattered from the force of the blow and cascaded into the sink bowls and onto the floor.
That shocked Chaim, and he was still standing just staring at the results of his angry blow when the door to the bathroom opened and Dr. Hurwitz and one of the male team members looked in. They looked at Chaim, then looked at where the mirror used to be, then back at him, surprise and shock on their faces.
“I, uh, broke the mirror,” Chaim muttered, cradling his bleeding hand against his chest. “Sorry.”
* * *
It was the next evening when Zalman caught up with Chaim. He walked into the little infirmary room where Dr. Hurwitz had finished taking the bandage off his hand. The cuts on the hand looked almost healed to Chaim, based on his pre-conversion experiences. But those experiences didn’t apply any more, Chaim reminded himself.
Marta, one of the techs, was taking photographs of the wounds while Dr. Hurwitz was dictating notes to his phone about accelerated healing. Chaim looked down at the top of her head as she bent forward to focus the digital camera on his hand. Her hair was short, black, thick, and just a bit the other side of wavy without being really curly. He was tempted for a moment to try and run his hand through it, just to see what it would feel like. The temptation disappeared as she straightened.
Chaim had Marta pegged at maybe thirty years old—enough older than him that he wasn’t attracted to her much. Her intense focus on her job may have had something to do with that as well. She was a couple of inches shorter than Chaim, not quite stocky—what Elena would have called “curvy” instead. Just kind of a “face” face, with dark brown eyes and heavy eyebrows that lit up whenever she exhibited one of her occasional smiles. Pleasant to be around, but all business.
Zalman stopped in the doorway and leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, expressionless face in place, waiting. Dr. Hurwitz finished his dictation, turned off the recording, and directed his gaze to the older vampire. “Do you need something, Mordechai?”
Zalman’s mouth quirked. “I need to have a talk with Chaim as soon as you are finished. Don’t let me rush you.”
Marta finished clicking pictures, looked up to receive a nod from Dr. Hurwitz, and walked over to plug the camera into a docking station. While she was uploading the pictures she had taken, Dr. Hurwitz took Chaim’s hand in both of his, turning and twisting it under the bright examination light. After a minute or so, he released it and looked at Chaim. “This is not a test we would have tried to make, and I can’t say that I’m glad that you injured yourself. But we are getting some interesting information about vampiric healing out of this event, so we can’t say it was all bad.” He gave a strained smile. “From the looks of it, you’ll probably be completely healed in another day or two. I’ll be very interested to see if you develop any scarring. But please, can we not do this again? We don’t need any additional excitement in our work, trust me.”
Chaim nodded, and said, “I’ll try.”
Zalman straightened. “Are you finished with him now?”
Dr. Hurwitz waved a hand. “He’s all yours. Can you have him back in an hour?”
Zalman smiled faintly. “Probably.” He beckoned to Chaim. “Let’s go find some privacy.”
A few minutes later they were outside. It was after 10:00 p.m., there were only a few wisps of low clouds, and the night sky looked almost like spangled velvet. They were far enough away from Chattanooga that there wasn’t much light pollution, and Chaim stopped for a moment to just stare upwards.
After a moment, he sighed. “I love the night sky. It always impresses on me just how much haShem as creator is an artist.”
“Indeed,” Zalman said. “Your first time outside since arriving?”
“Nah,” Chaim said. “I come out at night a couple of times a week. I’m discovering that doing the whole underground thing all the time gets a bit old. I’m not—quite—claustrophobic, but after two or three days I start getting a bit ‘antsy,’ to use one of my dad’s words. So I come out during a break in the tests, get a bit of fresh air, stare at the skies, remind myself that the universe consists of more than concrete walls and air-conditioned air.”
They both stared at the night sky for a long moment, then Chaim sighed, and said, “I guess you want to talk to me about last night. I’m sorry. I’ll pay for the mirror.”
“The mirror’s not a problem.” Zalman put his hands behind his back and started walking. Chaim fell in beside him and mirrored Zalman by tucking his own hands behind him. “To get you for a test subject, they would have allowed you to break as many mirrors as you wanted.” He chuckled for a moment, then sobered. “No, I’m more concerned about why you broke the mirror.”
Chaim sighed again. “I’m stupid.” Zalman looked at him, and even in the dim light in the parking lot Chaim could see his eyebrows raised. “Seriously. I’m stupid. I’ve just been running on automatic pilot or cruise control or something since…”
“Since your encounter with the vampire that changed you.” Zalman offered after a moment of silence.
“Yeah. Ever since then. I mean, I knew what had happened, I knew the changes I was feeling and seeing, but somewhere in my mind I was still believing that I was still the same guy, and things were going to work out and I’d go back to who I was…” He swallowed.
“Who you were before.”
“Yeah.”
“And last night?”
“Last night it sank in that this”—Chaim passed his hand down his front—“this is real. This is real. This is forever. And I got really mad at myself for hooking up with that chick and doing this to myself, so…”
“You punched yourself.”
“In the mirror. Yeah.”
They walked in silence for a long moment, circling around the parking lot.
“I’ve been expecting something like this,” Zalman eventually said.
“Glad to know that my freak-out happened on schedule,” Chaim said with some bitterness.
Zalman chuckled. “Actually, you’ve been doing rather well. Better than I did, as far as I can remember. But a ‘freak-out,’ as you put it, is rather to be expected, you know. For all that the conversion doesn’t seem to be as physically destructive as some of the other things that you might have experienced, it is perhaps the most traumatic thing I can think of for one person to experience. Your entire body is being changed underneath you, so to speak. Your entire perspective on life is being wrenched askew. For all that you have the memories of Chaim Caan, you’re not that person anymore. You can’t be. And all of your relationships…well, the chances of them surviving aren’t good.”
“I know,” Chaim whispered. He looked over at Zalman. “What was it like for you?”
Now Zalman sighed. “I don’t remember much of that time. Very foggy memories of feeling lost, of feeling confused, of being driven away.” He stopped and turned to face Chaim. “The one clear memory I have is my father telling me that I was dead, and my brother trying to stab me with a pitchfork.”
Zalman’s face was stark in Chaim’s sight. He could see it clearly, even in the dark. It finally dawned on him that his vampire night vision was giving him that.
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Chaim said in a low tone. “How can I possibly explain this to my parents? And if they believe me, as religious as they are, could they somehow accept that?”
“I don’t have an answer for that,” Zalman said. “Except, I haven’t seen that kind of acceptance often in my over two centuries of life, not even from parents.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of.” The following silence was stark.
After a moment, Zalman turned back and they started walking again. “The other thing I need to impress on you is that you are changing mentally as well. The anger that you felt last night, a good part of that was because your emotional matrix changes as a vampire. Think of it as a post-trauma change. You will most likely find it a little more difficult to connect with people.”
“Not that I was ever very good at that before,” Chaim muttered.
“Regardless,” Mordechai continued, “you’ll find yourself feeling somewhat distanced from people that you see and even meet. You will definitely find your anger quicker to flare than before. You will need to learn to suppress that if you’re going to move among regular people. Save your anger for important work, not for dealing with everyday irritations. Trust me, there will be times when that anger can and will be valuable. Learn to use it wisely, and don’t give in to it readily, because that way leads to self-destruction.”
“That sounds like the voice of experience,” Chaim said.
“Indeed,” was all Zalman said in response. They continued walking in silence for a time. “Have you talked to your parents recently?” Zalman asked.
“Mom called a few days ago. I need to call Dad.”
“Indeed,” Zalman said. “Don’t leave it too long.”
Chaim tried not to sigh. Zalman was right, and he knew it. He just didn’t want to do it.