She. Max’s coyote. We’re still a mile away from each other, but she picks up the rage. I close the distance in seconds. Then we’re face-to-face. The vampire and the man and woman at her side. They are stunned by my sudden appearance, by my vampire face. They are young, maybe twenty, dressed in dark jeans and hoodies that are tattered and stained. They each carry a small satchel. They cringe away, look to their guide. I look at her, too. She has the smooth, unlined face of a very young woman. Dark skinned, dark hair and eyes that tilt up at the corners. Exotic. Latino or Middle Eastern? I point to the humans. Let them go. The vampire tilts her head to one side, studying me. Physically, we are evenly matched. She is weighing her options. You have no options. She is cloaking her thoughts. Then, abruptly, she says, Perhaps you are right. These two are of no consequence. Do they speak English? A nod. I drag my eyes away from her, motion to the couple. “The border is three miles straight ahead.
