Chapter 3: Chapter 3 - Uncle Sam

John’s body hit the door hard, dispatching him into the wall behind. He heard the attacker’s footsteps rushing toward him and spun around to face whoever hit him. Not again, he thought, and on the first day at his new school. He raised his hands into a guard position and moved one foot backward for better balance. It was the gigantic boy who had been glaring at him all day. The boy growled at him and attacked.

For his size, the boy moved impossibly fast. The boy’s red shirt blurred as he charged John. This time, however, John was ready. He threw his front left heel into the boy’s stomach. Ribs gave way to his foot, and John quickly followed with a jab and a cross towards the assailant’s head.

Something was wrong, though. The boy should have staggered backward under the strikes, but he acted like nothing hurt him. His teeth seemed to be growing longer and each filed down to a point. An upper row and bottom row of jagged, razor-sharp teeth grinned at John, who knew enough to realize that wasn’t normal. The monster snarled at him with inhuman ferocity.

The monster grabbed John and threw him into the wall above the urinals. John’s head crashed into a partition on the way down. Shocking pain mingled with the smell of a cherry urinal cleaning block and that of a backed-up toilet in one of the three stalls next to him. John somehow managed to raise himself up on one knee. Rage cleared out the pain.

“What are you doing?” John yelled. The other boy didn’t answer but charged him again. John grabbed the urinal block and shoved it into the monster’s mouth. He followed with a left elbow to its torso. The strike was powerful enough to knock the monster backward.

John shuffled back to give himself room and then shoved his right foot into the monster’s groin. The monster stopped and groaned. John was glad that move still worked at least.

The freak just kept coming, though, and John was getting winded. He had to stop this thing, but with what? He frantically glanced around the room for a weapon. Nothing. He was in a school bathroom. Well, it figured. Maybe he could have thrown a paper towel at it. Taking no more time to think, he ran toward the monster and threw several kicks and punches.

The monster retreated under the onslaught of punches and kicks. In desperation, it grabbed John’s legs. John fell backward, his head barely missing the urinals again. The monster climbed on top of him and licked its razor-sharp teeth. Fetid breath radiated from the monster’s mouth. Apparently, the cherry smell from the urinal block didn’t improve anything. John didn’t know where the rancid breath began and the backed-up toilet ended.

“Gifted, I get to kill you! I will feast on your blood!” the monster hissed. John had no idea what the creature was talking about. Charged with adrenaline like he was, all John could think to say was, “What?”

The monster opened its mouth and its head descended towards John’s neck.

John writhed, but the monster gripped him too tightly. He shuddered as the hot, rancid breath pulsed on the skin of his neck and assaulted his nose.

Suddenly, the monster cried out in pain and arched backward. John looked up and saw Donovan standing behind the monster. Donovan pulled back the monster’s head and stuck a sharp knife into its chest. With a cry, the monster disintegrated into dust. Donovan still held the knife in his left hand.

“Are you okay?” Donovan asked.

“Yeah, that was some kind of awful,” John replied, smiling gratefully as he rubbed his head where it’d hit the partition, “That’s going to leave a mark.”

Donovan smiled. “Lucky for you, I thought you might be lost, and I came up to find you. You seemed to handle him pretty well, though.”

“Thanks, man.” John paused. “Wait, how long were you watching?”

“Only a little while. You were doing okay, so I wanted to see how you’d do.”

“Dude, don’t wait next time! Who was that guy? Why’d he attack me? I didn’t even know his name.”

“His name was James Merrick. He was always kind of a jerk. I guess, now I know why. He was a vampire. Makes sense.”

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John considered for a moment. “What are you talking about? There’s no such thing as vampires.” It sounded much more like a question than a statement.

Donovan nodded. “Of course, there are! Why wouldn’t there be?”

“But—” With the bump on his head swelling, it hurt to think, but John’s brain started pumping out questions. “Don’t vampires have to sleep during the day? Don’t vampires have, like, only two pointy teeth? And why did he attack me? I mean, people don’t usually try to beat me up until after they meet me.”

Donovan offered his hand to pick John up. “It’s complicated. I need to take you to see Uncle Sam. He’ll explain everything better than me.”

“Who?”

“Oh, right. I mean Mr. Franklin. Sam’s his first name.”

John smiled. “I’d really appreciate his help right now. I’m still not sold on the whole vampire thing.” He looked around the restroom. Cracks spread out from where he’d hit the concrete wall above the urinals, and a pile of dust lay where Donovan had dispatched the vampire. John waved his hand, “What do we do about this?”

Donovan smiled. “Uncle Sam’s got a deal with the principal when things like this happen. He’ll make sure you don’t get into any trouble here at school.”

“Your uncle can do that?”

“Of course. He has prep time this hour, so we need to talk to him now.”

“Sounds good. Can I wash my hands first?”

Donovan smiled. “You fight a vampire for the first time and all you can think about is washing your hands?” “Dude, I put my hand in a urinal. Of course, I’m gonna wash my hands.”

Donovan laughed as he put his knife in his pocket. “Fair enough.”

When John finished, the two boys walked down a couple of floors to Mr. Franklin’s classroom. With the room empty of students, John became aware of exactly how barren it really was. Absolutely nothing adorned the walls except a dry-erase board. Apparently, Mr. Franklin didn’t like cluttered walls.

The same could not be said about Mr. Franklin’s desk. Stacks of papers piled atop each other. John couldn’t see the desk except where the computer keyboard and monitor lay. Their cords snaked down into a hole in the back. Mr. Franklin perched behind the desk, typing an assignment. He didn’t look up.

“Well, hello, boys. It’s good to see you again, John. Donovan, it’s always good to see you. What can I help you with today?” Mr. Franklin wiped his wispy, brown hair across his head and continued typing furiously.

“John was attacked by a vampire about fifteen minutes ago,” Donovan said. “I killed it.”

Mr. Franklin stopped typing and looked up at them. “Really? Here at school? Who was it?” Mr. Franklin asked, leaning toward the boys.

“James Merrick,” Donovan said. Mr. Franklin stroked his scruffy beard, and his blue eyes searched the blank wall in the back of the room. “Well, that’s not good. The attacks are getting more frequent. I wonder how he got here in broad daylight. Did James say anything to you?”

John shook his head. “He did call me ‘gifted,’ but I don’t even know what that means.” Mr. Franklin smiled. “It means that you are one of the Gifted— with a capital G—a group of people who are able to fight monsters. They have abilities like above-average speed, strength, and durability. I wish I could say intelligence, too, but I’m Gifted also, so I know that’s not part of the package.” Mr. Franklin chuckled with a faint smile and arched his eyebrows. He stopped when he realized the boys weren’t laughing with him.

“So how did James know I’m Gifted and not me?”

“Some vampires can sense the Gift. They sometimes know when people are one of the Gifted before those people do, unless those people are part of the Gifted community.” Mr. Franklin paused. “Wait, you didn’t know that you were Gifted?”

“No, sir,” John said, “I’d never even heard that word before today.”

Mr. Franklin jumped out of his chair and paced the room. “You’re not from one of the families, then. That can only mean one thing: you’re a Ferus! It’s been about forty years since the last Ferus was found!”

“What’s a ‘Ferus’?” John asked.

Donovan answered, “It’s Latin, so it sounds more impressive. A Ferus is someone who has the Gift but isn’t from an established family like ours.”

“They’re found out in the wild, as it were,” Mr. Franklin said. “They’re usually more powerful than the rest of the Gifted for some reason.”

Donovan leaned in. “It has to do with genes or magic or something.”

Mr. Franklin stopped pacing the floor in front of his desk. “We think it’s the magic’s way of broadening the gene pool. Sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed you would know that. You know what they say about assuming.”

“No, what do they say?” John asked.

“Never mind, we can talk about that later,” Mr. Franklin said with a grin. “I think I’ve given you more questions than answers. Look, you need to get back to class. I’ll talk to Principal Watkins and make sure he knows not to get you in trouble. He and I have a special arrangement for monster-related incidents.”

John wondered what Mr. Franklin meant. “Is Mr. Watkins a Gifted too?” Mr. Franklin’s deep voice rumbled in laughter. “No, he most definitely is not. Let’s just say, he and I have come to an understanding.”

“Uncle Sam,” Donovan began, “Can John come over tonight for supper? I’m sure mom and dad will want to talk with him.”

“I’ll talk to your folks, Donovan,” replied Mr. Franklin, “If they say yes, and John’s parents agree, he may come over for supper. I’m sure he has the ability to walk or be driven there.”

“I live several blocks away from here. It’s only me and my dad. I’ll ask him,” John said.

“It’s only my dad and me,” Mr. Franklin corrected.

Donovan rolled his eyes. “The Grammar Nazi strikes again.”

“I prefer to be called a volunteer for the grammar police. You get all of the power without any of the responsibility,” Mr. Franklin said with a smile. “Talk to you later.”

John couldn’t wait to meet this family and find out more.