The Vampire of Callum County

Jessica June Rowe 

Jessica June Rowe is a writer, playwright, and content marketing specialist from Los Angeles. She received her Master of Professional Writing from the University of Southern California, and is currently Editor-in-Chief of Exposition Review. Her work has appeared in Noble/Gas Qtrly, Pidgeonholes, The Best of Playground-Los An- geles (2016), and on the stage of the Zephyr Theatre in Los Angeles. She also really loves chai lattes. Find out why by following her on Twitter @willwrite4chai. 

As soon as Lindsey got home from school she took the jeep out to Quapaw Lake. She didn’t tell her mom, because her mom wasn’t even home, and okay, maybe also because her mom probably wouldn’t have let Lindsey go, since Lindsey only had her driver’s permit, but like, whatever. It wasn’t like Lindsey was taking anyone with her. This was gonna be her story. 

So she drove out to the lake, using one of the hunting backroads because the interstate was blocked by State Troopers—which Lindsey only knew because Billy, a guy she’d dated like forever ago last year, had an uncle who was a Trooper, and he told her that he told him they were trying to keep people away from the area, and no way was Lindsey letting some lame douche cop turn her away. True love was on the line, okay? 

The trailhead parking lot was empty, which it kinda would have been anyway because it was off-season and the water was down in the lake, but it was even more empty because of the attacks, and old people and families got scared or whatever about this stuff—but Lindsey wasn’t scared. She was excited, and started hiking with her chin high and this expanding feeling in her chest, like she couldn’t get enough air or had just gotten over a hundred likes on a really good selfie. 

By the time she was three miles in, though, it was mid-afternoon and she was walking a little slower. She wasn’t tired, and she’d hiked Quapaw since she was a kid so she knew the way to Shady Cave, but her iPhone had died, and hiking to her girl T-Swift was so much more motivating than walking around listening to birds and leaves falling and shit. And three miles was like, a lot of time to think. 

The thing was, everyone was saying the campers were killed by an animal—a wildcat in the woods. But Billy said his uncle said there was something not right about the bodies, that they were mangled but they’d been missing blood, too. And Lindsey’s dad had been hunting on the other end of Quapaw right before the first attack, and he’d caught a glimpse of something from his deer blind. He’d said it was real pale and moving unnaturally fast, and that didn’t sound like a wildcat, and anyway, no one had seen a wildcat in Callum County in like a hundred years, so why would one show up now?
It wouldn’t. Hashtag duh. 

Her friends thought she was joking and laughed it off, but they’d never read the books and hadn’t even paid attention during the movies, so Lindsey can’t even with them. But Lindsey had, and she’d done like, research for this shit—she’d gone to the library and everything. Shady Cave was the only spot around the lake that fit. It was in the right area, it was the right size, and it was called Shady Cave for a reason—the trees had grown just right so there was never any open sun around the cave, ever. She’d shown the evidence to her Tumblr friends and all of them agreed with her. If there was a chance she was right, she had to go for it. She couldn’t let the haters get her down. 

By the time Lindsey stood outside Shady Cave, she still had that feeling, that tightness in her lungs, but she was nervous now, too. The cave wasn’t big, not something you’d see on Planet Earth where you’d find like, an underground salt river and blind salamanders inside. It was just some big boulders that had fallen together like a billion years ago and left a few gaps between them. At the entrance was a black pond swarming with gnats, and it was totes gross but Lindsey knew in her heart this was the spot. She gathered her courage and repeated to herself, in the immortal words of Stephanie Meyer: about three things was Lindsey was absolutely positive. First, there was a vampire in Callum County. Second, Lindsey was like, seventy percent positive he was living in Shady Cave. And third, Lindsey was going to find him and fall unconditionally in love with him. 

She took a deep breath and entered the cave. It was dark inside, which she should have expected because like, how else did the vampire keep himself safe from being found out? She needed to be smarter than that. She needed to be prepared, because what if he was being wrongfully accused or like, hunted by another bad vampire or werewolves? She had to be on her A-game to save him so he wouldn’t move on before he could get to know her and fall in love. Except, the cave was cold, and when she tripped and put a hand on the wall to catch herself it was wet and slimy, and it’s not like Lindsey could even use her iPhone flashlight to avoid stepping on stones and sticks and all the other stuff that was rattling and crunching under her feet. She could have killed herself for not thinking this through more... and then it was over. 

She’d reached the end of the cave, and—nothing. Shady Cave, her best chance, her only chance, was empty, and Lindsey was heartbroken, because all the signs had been there and she’d been so sure she was right, and this was the worst day of her life and then— 

Then she heard the noise. 

By the time Lindsey turned around, it was right behind her. Her eyes had finally adjusted to the dark so she could see—oh god, she could see it, with its cloudy dead eyes and yellow teeth and its breath that smelled like garbage. Lindsey had wanted a vampire, but not this kind of vampire, she hadn’t even thought of this—and oh god, her mom always said the book was stupid, putting stupider ideas into her head, and Lindsey hated admitting her mom was right but now she’d never even get to tell her. Even worse, now that she thought about it, Lindsey’s Tumblr friends were all probably still in junior high and Lindsey was in high school, like why the fuck was she dumb enough to listen to preteens? 

Lindsey was so over this, but it was too late. The thing was all up in her face—which, rude, but she couldn’t even say that, because it was reaching for her, and it was tearing at her with its sharp, dirty claws, and Lindsey screamed and screamed but there was literally literally nowhere to run. 

By the time it disemboweled her and started gulping blood from her femo- ral artery, there were, for once, no more words left. 

Issue 6.2