Read Online Fat Vampire 6: Survival of the Fattest by Johnny B. Truant - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Johnny B. Truant
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like any Reginald had seen on the human news a lifetime ago. He hadn’t been to a Council meeting since the one where they’d almost been murdered and he’d only sporadically checked in on Council since the war — since more or less giving up on solving the rest of the codex. He’d known the Vampire Nation had been trending toward more and more conservative ways of operating, but the conference room’s simplicity still caught him by surprise. Gone were elaborate thrones, stadium seating, and sunlight rooms meant for executions. Gone were the chains, the torturers, the sniper windows, and the long formal robes. In its place was banality, and President Nicholas Timken.
Timken was seated at the large table in the middle of the room, dressed in a conservative blue suit and a red tie. When the group entered, he glanced briefly at Charles (who was covered in plaster dust) and then at the others. He stood, smiled warmly, and came forward.
He went to Reginald first, a broad smile on his handsome face. He took Reginald’s hand in both of his, one on top and one beneath, clasping it warmly as if greeting an old friend. Reginald was almost swayed by Timken’s earnest politician’s eyes and his boyish surfer’s hair, but then he remembered that the last time they’d met, Timken had climbed a wall, ripped a TV from its mount, and smashed it to pieces in a fit of rage. He reminded himself who Timken was back then and still was today — the man who’d spearheaded and championed the largest-scale genocide ever perpetrated. He’d done it with a straight face and a clear conscience, because something within him told him he was doing it all for the greater good, making the hard choices that nobody else had the guts to make. Which, in Reginald’s mind, meant that he was deeply insane.
“Reginald,” Timken said with a smile. “It’s good to see you again.”
Reginald kept his expression neutral. “Mr. President.”
“I’m glad you’re here. We need your help.”
Reginald looked at Nikki, then Brian. He turned back to Timken.
“Let’s make something clear,” he said. “I think you’re one seriously evil son of a bitch, and I am here against my will.”
Timken held his gaze for a long moment, then laughed with buoyant good humor. The sound was rich and light and genuine.
“A Boy Scout to the end!” he said, smiling. “Even after all this time, you’re still holding that old grudge?”
“It’s a big grudge,” Reginald answered.
Timken held the smile, but after a long beat his face fell and became serious. He stared at Reginald. “You still think I made the wrong decision,” he said. It was a statement, not a question.
“You did make the wrong decision.”
“You said the vampires of the world wouldn’t let me make it, if I remember,” said Timken.
“I did,” said Reginald. “But unfortunately, I was the one who was wrong about that.”
“Yes. Which proves that you are fallible. Come on, Reginald; you’re supposed to be the logical one. Can you really say that there was zero chance you were wrong about the war?”
“Correct,” he said, still holding Timken’s eyes. He pulled his hand from the man’s surprisingly smooth and soft grip. “Zero chance.”
“Even after all this time.”
“Especially after all this time. I’ve had forty years to regret my part in all of it, ashamed that I couldn’t do more. But I see you didn’t have any such conflict, and that your conscience is clear.”
The president shook his head sadly. “That’s why you could never lead, Reginald. You think I’m evil. That’s okay, I guess; you wouldn’t be the first. There are fringe groups who think I’m beyond terrible. And yes, Claude Toussant does most of the dirtiest work — I’m so sorry about your maker, by the way; I never got a chance to express my condolences — but I’ll take the responsibility for those dirty jobs because it’s mine in
Timken was seated at the large table in the middle of the room, dressed in a conservative blue suit and a red tie. When the group entered, he glanced briefly at Charles (who was covered in plaster dust) and then at the others. He stood, smiled warmly, and came forward.
He went to Reginald first, a broad smile on his handsome face. He took Reginald’s hand in both of his, one on top and one beneath, clasping it warmly as if greeting an old friend. Reginald was almost swayed by Timken’s earnest politician’s eyes and his boyish surfer’s hair, but then he remembered that the last time they’d met, Timken had climbed a wall, ripped a TV from its mount, and smashed it to pieces in a fit of rage. He reminded himself who Timken was back then and still was today — the man who’d spearheaded and championed the largest-scale genocide ever perpetrated. He’d done it with a straight face and a clear conscience, because something within him told him he was doing it all for the greater good, making the hard choices that nobody else had the guts to make. Which, in Reginald’s mind, meant that he was deeply insane.
“Reginald,” Timken said with a smile. “It’s good to see you again.”
Reginald kept his expression neutral. “Mr. President.”
“I’m glad you’re here. We need your help.”
Reginald looked at Nikki, then Brian. He turned back to Timken.
“Let’s make something clear,” he said. “I think you’re one seriously evil son of a bitch, and I am here against my will.”
Timken held his gaze for a long moment, then laughed with buoyant good humor. The sound was rich and light and genuine.
“A Boy Scout to the end!” he said, smiling. “Even after all this time, you’re still holding that old grudge?”
“It’s a big grudge,” Reginald answered.
Timken held the smile, but after a long beat his face fell and became serious. He stared at Reginald. “You still think I made the wrong decision,” he said. It was a statement, not a question.
“You did make the wrong decision.”
“You said the vampires of the world wouldn’t let me make it, if I remember,” said Timken.
“I did,” said Reginald. “But unfortunately, I was the one who was wrong about that.”
“Yes. Which proves that you are fallible. Come on, Reginald; you’re supposed to be the logical one. Can you really say that there was zero chance you were wrong about the war?”
“Correct,” he said, still holding Timken’s eyes. He pulled his hand from the man’s surprisingly smooth and soft grip. “Zero chance.”
“Even after all this time.”
“Especially after all this time. I’ve had forty years to regret my part in all of it, ashamed that I couldn’t do more. But I see you didn’t have any such conflict, and that your conscience is clear.”
The president shook his head sadly. “That’s why you could never lead, Reginald. You think I’m evil. That’s okay, I guess; you wouldn’t be the first. There are fringe groups who think I’m beyond terrible. And yes, Claude Toussant does most of the dirtiest work — I’m so sorry about your maker, by the way; I never got a chance to express my condolences — but I’ll take the responsibility for those dirty jobs because it’s mine in
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