The Biotechnology Board of Canada and Other Bloodsuckers (1.11)

Even the next morning, with tackling Cell and lying to the teachers and watching Sylv get herself suspended all safely in my memory, it somehow still feels like someone replaced my blood with adrenaline. I’ve never been bad before. Good little Antoine. Model student. Active listener. The guy you call to babysit your kids while you go out with friends. Why’d I have to start being a troublemaker when the people watching aren’t… overworked kindergarten teachers, but the fucking Biotechnology Board of Canada? They’re like our CIA. Mr. O’Hagan kills abominations for a living. Why in the world did we have to get his attention first? Shouldn’t we have started off smoking weed or something to get a handle on the pressure?

Try to straighten out my breathing. Relax my fingers, which are wrapped around my backpack strap like it’s a rope on a careening ship. We didn’t have a choice. And I can handle it. I can handle anything if it’s for my friends. What? Stop being reliable now, when they need me? No way.

I’m almost calmed down when Shay steps out in front of me and gets right in my face, looking terrified.

“Dude, O’Hagan arrested Cell.” they say.

I freeze.

“What?”

Jimin runs up behind them, white as a sheet, as they answer.

“He subpoenaed the fucking summer camps and got his name. He literally had the superhero—F-Firefly—grab him right from his locker and drag him out into the parking lot. It was a whole scene. The whole school is already saying he’s the vampire. We are so fucking fucked, bro.”

I wish I could say my life flashes before my eyes, but no. I stare out into empty space like an idiot. Cell knows some of us are Class As. He saw that Jimin was working with us, he saw Jet shrug off that nasty-looking hit like it was nothing, and he’s alone and panicking in the back of O’Hagan’s chariot right now. Soon, they’re gonna take a tissue sample, get it tested, and confirm what he is. If we’re lucky, they’re waiting for a warrant. If they already have one, or they’re cutting corners because they know they’ll get away with it, or they’re clever enough to realize that Cell has extra teeth…

We have less than a day. Less than one school day, maybe only until lunch. We have to save him or my friends are going to be mutant freaks for good, property of the bloodsuckers. The one thing we can’t have happen. The one thing I can’t let happen.

Okay. Action. What, I’m just gonna stand here!?

Shay and Jimin cluster around me like anxious puppies in the guys’ bathroom, staring up at the phone in my hand. Dial Jet, hope he’s not sleeping in or doing anything stupid like that. It rings four times. Jimin looks like he’s about to throw up again.

He picks up.

“Jet! Hey! Uh, Cell got nabbed by the biotech board, can they legally biopsy him?”

String of muffled profanity from the other end of the line. Jimin laughs nervously. A freshman wanders in and starts unzipping and Shay shouts at him to find another room. He scurries away by the time Jet starts saying anything coherent.

“Okay, okay, O’Hagan probably doesn’t have an actual biopsy warrant, it’s probably just a hunch and he’s hoping Cell will confess. You know, like on a cop show. I bet the school administration is making a big stink about it—”

“Yeah.” I interrupt.

Shay nods and smiles. “The principal’s threatening to sue.”

Go Kites. Finally, school pride I can get behind.

“Okay.” Jet says. “You guys have to get him out of there.”

“How?” I ask.

Silence.

“Maybe we should call Sylvia.” Shay says.

“No!” I say. “No, whatever her plan is it’s gonna make things worse somehow. Uh, cop shows, cop shows… Jet, you watch many of those?”

“Like, an anime or two. But the laws are different in Japan, especially for monster hunters. Shit. Shit.”

Shay and Jet just keep spitballing and arguing with each other, even though they can barely communicate through the phone while it’s in my hand. Jimin takes the greediest ‘drink of water’ I’ve ever seen; he looks like he’s hallucinating ghosts. He must be panicking. We’re all panicking, everyone’s panicking. Someone has to step up.

Okay, on a cop show, why do they let their chief suspect go? Why does the creepy guy with no alibi and six prior convictions get put back on the street when they were sure it was him ten minutes ago?

Right. Yeah. That’s why.

“Guys, the killer has to strike again.”

“What?” Shay says. Jet echoes it.

“N-not the killer, but—the vampire. Cell’s locked up in the parking lot having his civil rights trampled on. They probably have him in handcuffs. If he’s the vampire, what happens if the vampire hurts someone else? While he’s in there.”

Jimin nods enthusiastically. Shay’s jaw drops.

“You’re suggesting that we fake a vampire attack? On who? What, you have a grudge against somebody, Antoine!? And what do we do about the bite marks? It’d have to be totally staged. They’d have to be in on it. And we don’t have saliva that causes memory loss, or whatever it is that Cell’s been using to make sure nobody remembers him, so…”

They slowly wise up. I can see it creeping onto their face as I stare down at them, waiting for them to get it. Soon, they do.

“Oh my God, Antoine.” they say, shaking their head.

“Yeah.” I say. Swallow hard. “It has to be one of us.”

We argue all the way to the bathroom on the second floor, the one nobody ever uses. We rule out Jimin right away. If there’s any suspicion that he’s involved with the attack, they could test him and then it would all be for nothing. We yell at him to get to class and not worry about it until he finally gives in, looking back over his shoulder at us the whole time he’s leaving.

Shay takes a deep breath.

“You wanna do it, don’t you? What, are you going for the high score on martyrdom? Trying to make the rest of us look bad? Come on, dude, this is crazy. We can use Jet!”

“No, we can’t. He’s suspended, it would be weird as hell if he came back just to get attacked by the vampire. And it’s not gonna be you. You’re good at lying and I suck.” I say.

They cross their arms.

“So, how is this gonna work?”

“You got… something sharp?” I ask. The nerves are starting to creep in.

They fish around in their backpack and pull out a full-sized utility knife.

“What the fuck? Why do you have—” I start.

“Hate crime insurance! I’m trans and shit! You hear about these things in the UK and stuff, and—”

“Okay, that’s… really dark. Is it sharp?”

“Yeah.”

I roll up my sleeve and stare at the ceiling. Shay crouches down and stares nervously at my arm. My heart pounds. Should I tie something around my bicep or would that make it look too staged?

“Ant?”

“Yeah?”

“How do we make it look like there are bite marks?”

I stare at them until they get the picture. Again. They swallow as they realize what they’re going to have to do.

It’s worth it. It has to be.