Sink your teeth into author and editor of T-Rex Moonzine, Ruth J. Burroughs’

 

Collar City Vampyres

 

It’s darkest night in Albany, New York, a small city, the capital, on the Hudson River. It’s hot. It’s summer. It’s the year 1987 and the city is teaming with hungry vampires. But the two hoodlums stalking the young couple don’t want blood. They just want money for drugs. One has a knife and the other a gun. The young couple are drunk and stumbling down the dark alley. Mobile phones are few and far between and aren’t walking computers. Pay and rotary phones and mechanical cars have not gone extinct. And the pay phone was rotary, and by the time Cecil the Vampire Hunter, found them they were dying, and each number seemed to take forever to dial: nine-one-one.

Cecil stanched Kit’s bleeding with his jacket and made Lorraine halt the flow of hers with his shirt, then he stood up and stumbled over to the payphone. He searched his pocket, pulling out a handful of change. His hand shook and coins fell to the ground. He grabbed a plain Washington Liberty quarter, snapped up the handset and slipped the coin into the payphone. Dang. It wasn’t a push button one. His hands shaking, he dialed nine-one-one. Vladya answered, rolling his Rs, “What is your emergency?” he asked. “It’s me, Cecil. I’ve got dinner. They’re dying. 186 Sheridan Street, Sheridan Hollow, Albany, they’re bleeding out, so be quick about it.”

 

 

Earlier that day:

 

Dr. Kit E. and Lorraine, live in the building adjacent to the black artist Cecil, and can hear one side of his argument with Reggie, his deceased husband and ghost through the shared wall. Kit and Lorraine live in the same building with, three artists, two musicians and one playwright and thought they were all wonderful and crazy. For months Cecil Von Troy has been trying to convince them to move uptown and out of the violent neighborhood, whose peaceful denizens desperately wished they had the funds to leave. He told them that Sylvester von Albany was dead; Cecil was trying to cover both territories; he couldn’t protect them. But they didn’t want to move.

Emile Goldstein, the up-and-coming Tragicomedy playwright, lived here in their loft; so did the two Russian painters Polina Aleksandrova and Alisa Borisova. Jose Betancourt had his own sculpture gallery in the same building, and there were the soulful cellist and the lady with the wind instruments. And none of them were vampires, nor had any vampires attacked them, not even bats. They’d overheard his arguments with his dead husband and knew he was the Vampire Hunter for both Troy and Albany. Or at least, he thought he was. And they were charmed by it all.

Dr. Kit E. Purington just finished his studies at Albany Medical Hospital and was ready to start rotations and Lorraine Justice was studying at Albany Law school nights and working paralegal during the day, but they were both dirt poor; just scrapping by and loved every minute of it. They loved the easy walking distance to Washington Park, the state legislature, the south mall, the restaurants and all the drinking establishments.

Later tonight they would go out on the town. They hadn’t given any blood to the local Sheridan Hollow Neighborhood Association and the winged creatures of the night, restlessly perching near the Gargoyle sculptures at the rims of the skyscrapers, were getting hungry. And to them, Dr. Kit and Lorraine looked like dinner.

***

Cecil von Troy; stuffed the piece of paper in the pocket of his rain coat, 109 Second Street, Collar City, some Stacy Marsden, another client in his long list. Beads of rain water pelted in rivulets down his dark wool hair and brown skin but did not relieve the humidity. The smell of wet dog wafted up through his long wide nostrils and he knew the ghost of his husband, Reginald Utter, was somewhere close by. A chilly breeze confirmed Reggie’s presence on such a warm summer day. Cecil saw his own breath in the air like a winter day and his skin tingled.

Down the alley he went, all the while feeling Reggie padding behind him like a loyal dog. But Cecil didn’t want to deal with it now and stepped up the pace. They were having another spat about how to raise the children and Cecil didn’t think Reggie had any right to interfere, especially since he was dead.

T-Rex Moon is not available in pdf, e-book format, nor is it on a website. It is a print only magazine.

Purchase the print magazine here:

 

http://www.blurb.com/b/6903984-t-rex-moon?utm_medium=social&utm_source=facebook&utm_campaign=bookstore-share

 

 

Advertisements