Simple Plan Tour Bus

5 PM

“I bags top bunk!” David bolted up the stairs.

Pierre followed behind hauling his bag up the stairs, grunting. “Take the bunk closest to the shower, you dick.”

“Yeah, gotta agree with you there,” Chuck grumbled as he tossed his bag onto a bottom bunk.

David pouted at them both. “What are you trying to say?”

Pierre dumped his bag on a top bunk and glared at the bassist, smirking slightly. “Oh, let’s see...you stink so bad.”

“Stuff you, Pierre.”

Pierre just smirked, then yawned leaning against his bunk. “Fuck...I need to sleep...”

Chuck rolled his eyes slapping a palm against the wall. “Well, sleep then. We can wake you before we go out.”

Pierre rubbed at his face. “When do we leave MC?”

“The driver says he’ll drive us over night. We’ll meet our tour driver at our morning stopover.”

“Right...so naptime now...then dinner...then we leave?”

The drummer nodded.

Pierre yawned again careful to conceal his fangs. “Well, then wake me before seven, eh.”

Chuck nodded then jerked his head to the bassist. “Come on, unless you’re going to have a nap too.”

David rolled his eyes. “Nah, gonna go do some more exploring.”

Pierre snorted as he lifted his body into the bunk. “You’d think we’d never been to Montreal city before...”

David let out a chime of laughter as he flounced off the bus. Chuck just shrugged toward his friend and followed the bassist. Pierre sighed and lay back on the bunk, closing his eyes.

His eyes snapped open. It was dark. He frowned and rolled over onto his side, freezing when his eyes fell on a figure standing in the aisle. It was a woman, and it wasn’t Lachelle. For one, the woman had long jet-black hair that fell to her waist and she was much smaller than his fiancée, barely over four feet.

She lifted her head and he shivered as he met deep brown eyes that seemed very familiar to him. They were filled with a terror that he could not fathom.

He swallowed hard and sat up slightly. “Who are you?”

She trembled clasping her hands in front of her. Her skin was extremely pale almost ghostly. She moved closer to his bunk and gazed up at him.

Pierre bit his lip, shuffling back. “Who are you?” He repeated softly.

The woman’s lips parted then her eyes fell upon his night bag. He frowned following her stare and noticing the corner of the envelope peeking out from the side pocket. He remembered his Dad pressing it into his hand just as he’d left the house that morning.

He stared at it then looked back at the woman. “How did you get on the bus?”

She shook her head and pointed to the envelope. “Read the letter...” Her voice was a mere breath on a light breeze.

Pierre frowned, sitting up more. “What?”

The woman’s voice trembled. “You must read the letter.”

“Why...how do you know...?”

“Pierre, read the letter...you must read it...please...”

Pierre frowned even more. “How do you know my name? Who are you?”

The woman began to fade but as she did she murmured, tears welling in her eyes and rolling down her pale cheeks. “I am so sorry...my son...I am so sorry...please...read the letter...”

Pierre’s eyes snapped open. Afternoon sunlight filtered through the curtain on his bunk. He shivered even though it wasn’t cold, rubbing at his arms. He glanced into the aisle. It was as it had been before he’d fallen asleep. Bare, silent. The others had obviously gone off to explore as David had said.

He pulled his cell phone from the pocket at the side of his bag, checking the time. 6:00PM... Another hour before he said Chuck should come wake him.

He frowned as an envelope fell out of his bag. Then he remembered the dream, the woman telling him to read the letter...calling him...my son... Pierre shivered biting his bottom lip hard. Was that woman who he thought it was?

He breathed in deeply and lifted the envelope in his hand holding it gingerly. Then before he could balk, he ripped it open and drew out a folded sheet of parchment. Something fell out with it. He shifted on the bunk and saw that an old black and white photo had fallen beneath his pillow. He lifted it, eyes widening as they fell upon the image.

It was the woman from his dream. She stared out from the photo a soft smile gracing her lips. The long black hair fell in waves over her slender shoulders.

He swallowed hard and turned it over reading the words scrawled across the back. Serena in Laval, Spring of 1979...

Pierre blinked hard staring at the date. “1979?” He hissed, clicking his fangs against his bottom teeth. “That’s when I was born...”

He shook his head and eyed the letter cautiously. He knew that reading it would probably answer all his questions. Placing the photo aside, he lifted the letter and spread it out flat on his lap. He let his eyes move over the beautiful flowing handwriting, then he started reading pushing all thoughts away...

My dear son,

This is one of the most painfully hard decisions I have had to make in my whole life. Leaving you in the care of humans was not an easy decision, but one I knew I had to make to give you even a tiny hope of living a good life. I suppose, you will want answers to all sorts of questions, like why I gave you away...and even what you are.

If you are reading this then you have already reached puberty and your human family have decided to tell you at least part of the truth. You are a vampire. You are my son. I am a half-breed vampire, that is my mother was human...my father a vampire. Your father is a vampire...a pureblood...but more on him later.

You will have experienced your first feeding by now...I wish I could be there to guide you...but it is not safe for us to be together.

Oh, my son...your father would destroy me...and take you for his own...that is why I had to give you unto human care... Do not hate me for what I have done...I love you so much and wish that I could watch you grow into the powerful male that you are destined to become...

Even your father does not know of the power you will possess...but if he were ever to find out...he would use it to his own ends, he is not a male to be trusted...I hesitate to tell you his name...to identify him to you...he...terrifies me, my son. He is the Master Vampire...there is none other like him. Except you...when you reach your prime...I believe you may become...oh, son...you need to know though it pains me.

He is known amongst our kindred as Shadows...for he is as dark as his name suggests...he was born Matthew Charles Sanders and is one of the few remaining pureblood vampires left in all the world.

Even just writing his name sends chills through me, my son. You will know him if you ever meet him...and I hope you do not.

He roams this world with three other vampires who are just as cruel and worldly as he is...but you will recognise him best by the Werewolf who runs with them.

I have met your father’s servant on many an occasion, long before your birth. Johnny is a creature to be trusted...he is your father’s one weakness...and my one true friend...

Pierre’s brow furrowed, the letter fluttering beneath his hands; he realised they were shaking. Blinking hard, he lifted his head and stared blankly along the aisle. Then he dropped his gaze and reread the last few paragraphs that he had read. Jaw tightening, he smeared a hand over his face, wiping sweat that had begun to bead at his forehead.

He squeezed his eyes shut and then forced himself to read the rest of the letter. It mostly detailed vampire lore, and what he needed to do should he feel that he needed to feed; such as that as an almost pureblood vampire that he needn’t feed from humans. However, none of that was important; he already knew much of that from Pat and Johnny’s guidance.

Johnny... Pierre shivered, clenching his jaw tightly, then gave a low whistle that pierced the silence of the bus.

Suddenly there was a soft pop and Pat appeared right next to his bunk. He jumped slightly. “Jesus...”

Pat leaned against the side of the bunk and looked at him. “Not quite, Bouv. You rang?”

Pierre blinked, smoothing a hand over his scruffy hair. Then he thrust the letter at his friend. “Read that...”

Pat noted the tension in his friend’s voice and so started to read, his eyes widening as he scanned the words. The letter fell from his hands after several long silent minutes.

“Holy Hell...” His eyes shot up to Pierre’s grim expression. “M Shadows is your...” He shook his head. “That’s fuckin’ crazy...maybe he’s not...”

“It’s too much of a coincidence if he’s not. I mean...three other vampires...and well, Johnny is the clincher.”

Pat groaned rubbing at his forehead. “Yeah, that would be too much of a coincidence.” He bent down to pick up the letter handing it back to Pierre.

The vampire gripped it close to his chest and stared over Pat’s head into the aisle. “She was here...”

“Huh?”

“My mother...I dreamed she was on the bus...” Pierre bit at his bottom lip then picked up the photo and held it out to his friend. “That’s her...Serena...my mother...”

“Wow,” Pat breathed out harshly, “She’s beautiful...”

Pierre smiled then closed his eyes lying back.

Pat looked at his friend, then tucked the photo next to him on the bunk. “I’ll wake you later, buddy...”

Pierre rolled onto his side, curling around the letter and photo of his mother and mumbled softly as Pat vanished from the aisle.

“Thanks, Pat...”

Notes