"Keep The Car Running" written by The Arcade Fire

October the First

Every night my dream's the same,

Same old city with a different name...

The sun set at 7:30 on the dot. By then, the girl was already tossing her jacket over the lone metal chair in the back room. Whatever else she may have been, Eire Jane O'Connell was never late. Sure, she sometimes forgot to show up to work her shift at the bar, and sometimes she took off early for some lame excuse or another, but if she did show up (and, to be fair, that was at least 95 of the time), it was always exactly at the scheduled time.

The old lady who always set up the bar and ran the place for Happy Hour was named Josie. She always stayed around after Eire showed up for two brandy old-fashioneds, the same way Eire always stayed around for her rum and coke on Friday nights when Jack was tending. She wasn't twenty-one yet, and wouldn't be for two more years, but Jack didn't care. For a rugged old man who was Josie's older brother and had owned the place since the beginning of time, supplying alcohol to his underage employees was a way of saying "thanks for coming in and putting up with all this shit."

But today was Tuesday, not Friday, and Eire would be out of the place at exactly midnight, like Cinderella leaving the ball, although comparing Jack's to a ball was definitely a stretch. It was down on Gaston and had been there for almost a hundred years. Unlike most of the other businesses in the city, it catered to locals rather than tourists, and had a reputation as being somewhat of a dive. But tending bar there five nights a week paid well, and Eire got along with Jack and Josie, as well as the three others who took turns tending bar. So it wasn't a ball, but there were worse places.

Eire wasn't exactly a princess either. An art school dropout, she worked nights at the bar and mornings at a newsstand over on Bay and Broad streets. She lived in a basement apartment of one of the old houses in the Historic District looking out on Oglethorpe Square. There was an old shed the owner let her use as a studio, and it was filled with welding tools and sculptures made out of old car parts and random pieces of metal. As for looking the part of a princess...well, she got most of her things at thrift stores, not to be cool, but because that was what she could afford. Her jeans were always ratty, her sweatshirts too big, and she had a large collection of t-shirts promoting family reunions, little league teams, and restaurants from all across the country that she had never visited. Makeup she skipped, and she always kept her black hair just long enough to tie away from her face, never longer or shorter.

She considered herself to be at an in-between phase in her life. Last year, she had attended the city's art and design school, but didn't like the atmosphere that came with the rich kids. After second semester, she'd dropped out, and now used the money her parents sent to pay the rent and grocery bill. Her two jobs covered everything else. It wasn't a great life, but it wasn't permanent.

That's what she'd been telling herself all summer.

The question was, what did she want? Money would be nice. A boyfriend too, but most guys looked at her hair and clothes and decided she was either a prude or a lesbian, and moved on. The few guys she had dated were just as boring as life at college had been, and none of those relationships lasted long. Everything else...well, she just took it as it came.

Just like work that night. Oh, there were the few obnoxious people that came in. Jack's always had a couple of those. But Eire knew how to handle them, and when presented with the option of leaving or taking a break from drinking, they always went with the latter. Before she knew it, midnight had struck, and Laura, the other college student who worked until closing time, was coming around the bar. The two spoke for perhaps five minutes, then Eire took her coat and stepped out into the chill evening air.

It was about five blocks up to to Oglethorpe, and another block east to her house. The walk was easier if she cut through the Old Cemetery. Most people didn't; during the height of tourist season, there were always people there looking for ghosts or whatever. But this late in the year, and on a Tuesday, there wouldn't be many, if any at all. And there was a weird kind of peace in that place. In a world where everyone wanted something from you, the dead were happy to be dead and leave you alone.

The walk to the cemetery was a straight shot up Lincoln. She could hear people in the bars and clubs, and didn't think too much of it. They were the same sounds she'd heard her whole life. They even penetrated the quiet of the cemetery, although compared to the streets it was a dull roar. Eire stopped and closed her eyes for a moment, revelling in the chill night air. When she looked again, she spied a stone bench. Going over to it, she laid still on her back and put her arms under her head. What would happen if she chose to sleep in this place? Would they throw her out? Maybe they'd think she was dead...

Her arms reached under the bench and felt around the smooth stone surface. But as they reached the center part, right under the small of her back, her fingers ran across a bump. Eire frowned, and suddenly felt a weight in her hands. Her fingers wrapped around cold metal. Sitting up, she pulled her hand out and found herself gripping a large iron crucifix. Set with a red stone at the crux, the thing looked to be well over a hundred years old. Maybe even two.

She could see a streetlight on the other side of the fence. Raising it up, Eire saw clearly through the stone a world dyed scarlet, like blood. A cold feeling ran up her back as she lowered the cross. Directly before her, she saw a grave stone, shaped similar to the crucifix. In fact, the designs upon it were almost identical, and carved so clearly that even in the dimness of the cemetery she could see the similarities. The name on the grave, however, was harder to read.

Still gripping the crucifix tight, Eire crouched down and leaned forward, running a hand along the stone. She'd noticed other graves before, but never this one. The name was still unclear, but she could vaguely make out the dates. 1700-something to 1700-something else. It looked like the first name began with an N.

A cold hand wrapped around her wrist.

Eire let out a bloodcurdling scream and jumped up. She broke free of the grip, but that didn't seem to matter now. Because there was an arm attached to the hand. And a body attached to the arm. Man or woman, she couldn't quite tell, since it was covered with clods of dirt. She could see a tuft of fox-red hair on top of the head, and could tell that the body was well-muscled (and as some of the dirt fell away, she could see that it was indeed male). And now a face was being revealed, although it was still dirty.

"Good evening, pet," a man's voice with a heavy British accent remarked.

Eire didn't answer. She just screamed again, then turned and ran. But she didn't get far. The man grabbed her again, and this time, he held her tight. "Now why would you be running away from me? You woke me up, didn't you? Your heart is pounding so hard, I heard it all the way underground..."

"Let me go you sick freak!" she screamed, pushing hard against him. But it was like trying to knock over one of the heavy brick mausoleums scattered across the cemetery. The man held fast.

"No way. Not when I've got such a nice supply of blood in my arms." He threw her up against the wall of one of the mausoleums. Eire let out a cry of pain. Her hand had hit the corner and the brick cut a deep gash into the back of it. Smiling, the man raised it to his lips and ran his tongue across the cut. "Delicious..."

Desperate now, Eire raised the crucifix and began beating him hard with it. If this guy was a vampire (and he was sure acting like one), surely a cross had to work against him? But no, he only looked annoyed. "Listen poppet, if you're going to come at me with a cross, at least have the sense to use one that didn't belong to me," he sighed.

Belonged to him? It was his cross? Well, that didn't matter now. It was just one more thing that proved useless in this situation, along with those self-defense classes she had taken at the YMCA in high school. Eire shut her eyes tight, and to her surprise, felt a hand running gently down her cheek. The thing felt like ice, but she could tell that the gesture in itself was meant to be tender.

"It's nothing personal," the vampire murmured. "But we all gotta eat." He brushed her hair away from her neck and lowered his mouth.

"Please..." Eire whispered, squeezing the crucifix tight. It was slick with her own blood. "Don't."

She felt a crackling of electricity around her. Before she could question it, suddenly she found herself released. Without the vampire pinning her up, she slid down to the ground, eyes shut tight and still gripping the cross like her life depended on it.

"What the hell?" the vampire muttered, all gentleness gone from his voice. It was this tone that made Eire open her eyes and stare up at him. There was anger clear on his mud-covered face, and she could see it was directed at her. However, he didn't step forwards, only stood there, glaring at her. "What did you do?" he accused.

She blinked. "Huh? I didn't do anything!"

"Lying wench," he hissed. "Give me that cross."

"No!" she cried, getting to her feet and holding it against her chest. Whatever power had made him release her, she would have bet next month's rent that it came from the crucifix, and she sure as hell wasn't handing it over. But how come all of a sudden something he had brushed off as nothing was able to save her? Opening her hand, Eire looked at the cross. It was smeared with blood from the gash on her hand, and the stone in particular was so covered it was opaque.

The vampire saw this as well, and let out a string of curses. Somewhat taken aback, Eire watched him in silence until he turned his gaze on her again.

"You did it on purpose, didn't you?" he cried.

"Did what?" she blinked.

"Got your blood on the stone!" he countered, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "You must have recognized that thing for what it was. I thought you were stupid, trying to beat me with it, but you knew what you were doing the whole time, didn't you, you lying little minx!"

"I have no clue what you're talking about!" Eire snapped. Whatever power the cross had to protect her she was using to her advantage now. She wasn't about to cater to the monster's ego if the crucifix kept him from attacking. "And how come you're the one who's pissed at me? You're the one who was trying to eat me a second ago!"

"And I was trying to be nice about it, too!" the vampire replied. "I wasn't even going to kill you! I never kill women! I was just going to take some of your blood then leave you here. You would have woken up feeling sick, but you would have lived!"

"So why not do it now?"

"Because you got your blood on the stone you idiot!" He was enraged now. "Don't tell me you have no idea what you did."

"Well, I don't," Eire huffed. "And you know what? I'm not going to sit here and spend my night arguing with a...whatever you are."

"Oh come on," he rolled his eyes. "Don't tell me you can't even recognize a vampire when you see one."

She shrugged. "I assumed that, but I didn't want to be rude in case I was wrong," Eire explained. "And anyways, as long as I have this, you can't kill me, can you? Or drink my blood at all. So there's no reason for me to stick around. Now, if you don't mind, I'm taking my cross and leaving."

"It's i my /i cross you stupid girl!" the vampire cried. "And that's my blood you're carrying away with you! You can't just abandon me now that you've got it!"

Eire stopped in mid-stride. "Your what?" she asked, whirling around to stare at him.

The vampire crossed his arms over his chest and laughed. "So you really don't know, do you? You must be the luckiest wench in the world then." He took a step towards her. "What you've got in your filthy mortal hands is a talisman that a voodoo priestess made over two hundred years ago in hopes of defending herself from me. Luckily, I killed her before she got the chance to do what you did. The red stone in that cross is made of my blood. When you spilled yours on it, you bound us together."

"Bound?" she repeated, uncomprehending.

"Yes, bound. I cannot do anything to physically harm you now, unless you should expressly grant permission. At the same time..." he paused, and a wicked grin crossed his face. "You cannot hide from me. The mixing of our blood allows me to feel your presence wherever you are. Once I get my strength back, I'll even be able to see inside that pretty little head of yours, though I doubt I'll find much. And who knows what other fun games you and I will be able to play? I've never seen the spell played out to entirety, so this'll be a learning experience for both of us."

The girl stared back at him for several moments, then narrowed her eyes. "Are you calling me stupid?"

"If the shoe fits, love..." he grinned. "Don't worry though. I'll 'look after' you for a while. I'm not going to let you escape so easily."

Eire rolled her eyes. "So you're following me. Great. Christ, why don't you just go find some Anne Rice fanatic and stalk her for a while? i'm not interested in being tailed by some dirty dead guy."

He clenched his fists. "Because you denied me of the first decent meal I've had in a hundred years!" he answered. "And I don't want you figuring out other ways to mess with me while you have that crucifix, so I'm not letting you out of my sight!"

"You've been down there for more than a hundred years? Is that how long you've been dead?" Eire asked, tilting her head curiously. She was used to the vampire's annoyance by now, and found herself overwhelmed with interest.

"I've been dead since 1764, but that doesn't matter right now," the vampire answered. "What matters now is what I'm going to do with you."

"What are you going to do with me?" she countered, her voice and eyes daring him to answer.

He hesitated. "What are you going to do now?"

Eire shrugged. "Probably go home and have leftover Indian food."

"Fine. I'm coming too. There's still people living on the streets of this city, right? I'll have one on the way," the vampire said matter-of-factly.

Now it was Eire's turn to be shocked. "Wait...what? No! You're not coming home with me! And you're not going to eat any homeless people either! That's disgusting! Why don't you just go back in your hole in the ground, and I'll pretend this whole thing never happened."

Before she knew what was happening, the vampire was suddenly behind her. He put on hand on her hip and one hand on her shoulder, then slid it slowly up her neck to cup her chin. Leaning down, he whispered in her ear. "Like I said before, pet. We've all got to eat. And since you're off-limits to me now..." A shiver ran down her back. He smelled disgusting, but his breath was hot and sweet on her bare flesh. "Besides, I'm not taking the chance that your idiocy is all just an act. There's always the chance you could find a way to kill me with that thing, and that's not a risk I'm willing to take."

She roughly pushed him away. He didn't fight to hold onto her. He couldn't. "Oh whatever. I'm going home. Follow me or not, I don't care. I'm going now."

He followed her home, just like a lost puppy. To Eire's surprise, he didn't vanish at any point to go eat anyone, but just stayed behind her, a tall, muscular, dirt-covered shadow. Neither one spoke. At least, not until they approached the house.

"You're taking a shower as soon as you come in. You know that, right?" she remarked, glancing over her shoulder at him.

The vampire didn't look pleased. "Why the hell would I do that?" he asked irritably.

"Because you reek like grave dirt."

"And why do you think that would be?"

"Don't start any stupid arguments with me, I'm too tired for it. I'll wash your clothes or whatever, but you just get in that bathroom and don't come out until you're clean, got it?" the girl demanded. The vampire glared daggers at her. But nonetheless, when they climbed down the stairs to the recessed entrance to the basement, he followed in the direction she pointed in upon entering.

Changing out of her jeans and t-shirt into pajama bottoms and a sweatshirt, Eire picked up the dirty clothes the vampire had thrown on the floor outside the bathroom door. Inside, she could hear the shower running. Good. At least he was being somewhat cooperative. The clothes however...well, now she knew where that stink was coming from. Carrying them to the closet where the washer and dryer were, she threw the whole big lump in, added about a gallon of detergent, and let it go to work. Only after all that was done was she finally able to sit down and finish last night's curry.

The vampire spent well over an hour in the bathroom. Eire didn't care. Whatever it took to get him clean, she was willing to do it. Meanwhile, she spent her time cleaning off the crucifix in her kitchen sink. You couldn't tell there was blood on it if you hadn't seen it earlier, because the only difference Eire noticed was that the stone was far less translucent than it had been. Noticing there was a hole bored into the top of the cross, it occurred to her that it was meant to be worn as a necklace. Going into her room, she selected one of her heavier chains from her jewelry box, and strung it through the hole. Eire put the necklace about her neck and tucked the cross into the collar of her sweatshirt. The metal felt oddly warm against her skin.

When she came out of her room again, she saw the vampire standing in her hallway, wearing nothing but her heavy black turkish robe. Her breath froze in her throat.

What had only an hour before seemed like something akin to Swamp Thing was now one of the most gorgeous men she had ever laid eyes on. The red hair had darkened to a deep shade of auburn, and when he turned to look at her, she saw his eyes were the same liquid-brown she had seen only in the face of a loyal dog she'd had as a child. His muscles were much better defined when they weren't obscured by mud and clothes, and the sharp angles of his face were only covered by a thin growth of whisker, a mere five o'clock shadow that was nothing compared to the dirt that had been caked on.

"It's rude to stare," the vampire informed her matter-of-factly.

Eire snapped out of it. "Sorry. I just didn't realize there was a person beneath all that dirt."

He smiled sardonically. "Charming girl," he stated flatly. "Are my clothes done?"

"Not yet," she answered, moving past him into the kitchen. "Are you hungry? There's still some...oh...wait..."

"You're catching on," the vampire answered grimly. "And yes, I am hungry, but I can wait. When do you go to bed?"

"About 10:00 AM," Eire answered nonchalantly. "I have to go in to work at 5:00 AM, and I work until 9:30. Then I sleep until five or six-ish, then get up and head to the bar."

"You drink that early?"

"No! I work at a bar. Evenings, anyways. And there's no point in sleeping for four hours between the bar and the stand, so I just use that time to do whatever," she explained.

He raised an eyebrow. "You could be a vampire yourself with a schedule like that."

"I've been called that," Eire agreed.

The vampire hesitated. "And if you're not being called "vampire," what are you being called?" he asked finally, looking on her with some interest.

She blinked, and it occurred to her that neither of them knew each other's names. "Eire. Eire O'Connell. What's your name?"

"I am Sergeant Nathaniel Lockhart, British Army," he introduced formally. Seeing her blank stare, he shrugged it off. "Sorry. Old habits die hard."

So he was British. That explained his accent. It didn't explain what he was doing buried in American soil. But Eire didn't think it would be polite to ask. And if she did, she had a feeling she would get either more of his attitude or else a long, drawn-out story she didn't want to deal with tonight. "Well..." she began, unsure of what was supposed to come next. "Welcome to my home, uh...Sergeant."

He rolled his eyes. "Don't bother with titles, pet. Just stick with Nathaniel."

Eire shrugged. "Um, okay...Nathaniel," she remarked, testing out the feel of his name on her lips. To her surprise, she rather liked it. It had an old-fashioned feel. She knew other guys with the name, but they preferred Nat or Nate.

The vampire was looking at her. "You have an interesting name," he said. "I take it you're Irish?"

"Who isn't in this city?" she replied, getting up and taking a mug down from the cupboard. Filling it with water, she began heating it in the microwave while she took a tea packet from a basket in the center of the kitchen table. "I'm a little more Irish than most though. My dad and grandma came from Belfast when they couldn't take the violence anymore. My mom's from Chicago though."

"Violence?" Nathaniel remarked, uncomprehending. Eire frowned as she took the mug out of the microwave and added the teabag.

"Well...yeah. You know. At that shit with the IRA and whatnot. My dad said when he was ten he saw one of his best friends get killed in a crossfire during a drive-by. You seriously don't know?" she asked.

He let out a cynical laugh. "Sweetheart, the last time I came out from that grave for anything longer than a quick feeding was 1932. I've done enough research to see the progression of technology, but that's it. Current events aren't really a priority when your life-span starts to stretch."

"And how stretched is yours?" Eire asked.

"How old are you?"

She blushed and turned away. "Sorry. I didn't mean it personally. And anyways, I'm nineteen, and proud of it, thank you very much!"

"I'm happy for you," Nathaniel said flatly. Leaning back in the chair, he put his arms behind his head. "And since you seem so interested, I'm..." he paused, and looked around. "What's today's date?" the vampire asked.

"October first, 2007."

"Okay, then I'm two-hundred and sixty-seven years old. Born in 1740, died in 1764," he answered.

Ah, so he was only twenty-four when he died. The peak of a man's life. No wonder he looked so good. He would be preserved in prime condition for all eternity. Eye-candy with no expiration date Eire thought, and tried not to giggle.

Nathaniel raised an eyebrow. "Are you all right?" he asked, again bewildered at the girl's strange reactions to things that really weren't that strange.

"Nothing, nothing," she shook her head and took a deep drink from the mug. When she dared to look up again, her face was serious. "Anyways, do you plan to return to that hole in the ground any time soon?"

The vampire shrugged. "I told you, no. I'm not leaving you along with that cross. I don't trust you."

"Then what are you going to do, stay here?" Eire blinked.

"Precisely," Nathaniel answered, as if it were the most simple thing in the world. "I can tell you live alone, and I can assure you I won't alert anyone to my presence here. But be assured, I'm not leaving you alone."

"Oh yeah?" Eire stood up and moved in front of him. "And what are you going to do when the sun rises, hm, Sergeant?"

He paused, then quickly averted his gaze, not wanting the little human to realize that she'd found the hole in his plot. Indeed, what would he do? The apartment was in the basement, but there were still windows to the outside. Nathaniel glanced around, then paused as he spotted a door that looked like it might lead to a closet. Standing up, he went to it and opened it. Sure enough, a recess, then shelves of towels and blankets all around. "I'll sleep in here," he answered, turning around with a victorious grin on his face.

Eire stared back, cynicism clear on her face. "You're going to sleep in my linen closet," she stated.

"Are you going to give me that cross?" Nathaniel asked.

"No!"

"Then yes. And seeing as dawn is quickly approaching, and I'm tired because someone wouldn't let me sleep, I will now be retiring for the evening. Good night," he said, going into the closet and shutting the door. "Put my clothes out for me when they're done."

"Hey wait!" Eire called, striding over. "What about my robe?"

She heard a grunt, and the door opened a miniscule crack. The robe flew out and landed on the couch, and the door slammed shut. Rolling her eyes, Eire picked up the robe and folded it in her arms. She had already hung it up in the bathroom when the thought crossed her mind like lightning.

"There is a vampire sleeping naked in my linen closet," she said aloud.

Life was funny.

They know my name 'cause I told it to them,

But they don’t know where

And they don’t know

When It’s coming, Oh! when is it coming?