“Power of attorney,” says Inspector Dracula, in the car.
“Lucy emancipated at sixteen,” says Mina shortly. “Her family is… well, put simply, I’m the only one she trusts. And I am the only one who’d go this far to find her.”
“I doubt that, but let us not needlessly multiply entities. You have added new strands to the web, new vertices; I must consider…” He frowns to himself, then sighs. “Forgive me. I forget the lateness of the hour. We will take you home.”
“No more urgent matters tonight?”
“No,” he says, “the men ransacking your apartment will have finished now.”
Thursday, November 23, 2006
Antoine shakes the milk. “I wouldn’t,” Donyelle says.
“It was in the fridge.”
“Who knows how long the brownouts lasted around here?” she points out. “Just pour water on your cereal.”
“Ugh, tried that when I was a kid. Better to eat it dry, drink the water. Which is weird.” He rummages through the pantry. “No cans.”
“I doubt gated community families planned for…” Donyelle glances out the window. The dead are still shuffling by in perfect hexagons. She shivers.
“Hey, a weather radio! Battery-powered!” Antoine fiddles; the little woodgrain box crackles and spits.
“Great,” mutters Donyelle, “very Silent Hill.”
Wednesday, November 22, 2006
“You know perfectly well the nature of doctor-patient privilege, Vlad,” says Van Helsing. “But–”
“I have her power of attorney since she was declared missing,” says Mina. “Go ahead, doctor.”
Dracula looks at her sharply, then back to Van Helsing. “I would not want to compromise your professional ethics, Abraham.”
Van Helsing sighs. “It’s Ms. Murray’s discretion. In here, please.”
He gestures them into a file room and rummages through drawers. “Polycythemia vera,” he says, “a chronic condition. Simply put, the young lady produces too many erythrocytes; circulation is slowed, bruises come easily. Treatment of choice is–”
“Bleeding,” says Dracula.
Thursday, November 16, 2006