The Darkness - Jason Pinter [1]
also happened to be the father of Henry Parker, the
Gazette' s rising young star reporter, whom Paulina had
as much fondness for as her monthly cycle.
Paulina had cut her teeth at the Gazette, and had briefly
worked side by side with Henry Parker. But after seeing
what the Gazette had become--an old, tired rag, refusing
to adapt to new technologies or understand that hard news
was essentially dead--she'd made it her business to put
the paper out of its misery.
Nobody cared to read about the government or the economy--at least not on a grand scale. They only cared about
what they saw right in front of them, day in and day out.
Their mortgage payments. Their bank accounts. It was all
visceral. You bought the celebrity magazine so you could
make fun of the stars' cellulite with your friends.You shook
your head at the news program that exposed the foreman
whose building was overrun with rats because he refused
to pony up for an exterminator.You scorned the politician's
wife who stood silent at the press conference by her cheating louse of a husband. Paulina gave those with no life
something to live for, something to chat about at the nail
salon.
The New York Gazette was dead. It just didn't know
it yet.
The Darkness
9
So when Ted Allen suggested that Paulina write an
article about vampires, she was taken aback to say the least.
"Vampires are huge," Allen had said. "There are those
books that have sold like a gajillion copies. Now there are
movies, television shows, soundtrack albums. Hell, newspapers are the only medium that isn't getting a piece of
it. Teenage girls love them, and teenage boys want to get
into the pants of teenage girls. And this all scares the
living hell--no pun intended--out of their parents, so you
write a piece on vampires I bet it's one of our bestselling
editions of the year."
"What the hell do I know about stupid vampires?"
Paulina said, laughing at herself for even asking the
question. She stopped laughing when she realized Ted
was serious.
"Oh, I don't know," Allen had said. "Didn't I hear
about some boys and girls who go around biting people
on the neck because they think they can be vampires? Go
interview them. Even better, go undercover and pretend
to be one of them. You know, pretend you like to bite
people's necks and see what they tell you."
"Ted, I'm in my forties," Paulina said. "I don't think
going undercover with teenagers will fly."
"Are you kidding?" Ted said. "What's that term? Milf?
The teenage boys will love you."
That's when Paulina left.
Rain beat down upon the streets steadily, with the precision of soft drumbeats. The drops splashed upward as
they struck the pavement, and Paulina felt the water
soaking her ankles as she exited into the gloom. A bottle
of Finca Vieja Tempranillo was waiting at home. It was
a good red wine, with a slight plum taste, and she could
picture slipping into a warm bath with a glass in one
10
Jason Pinter
hand and a romance novel in the other. The rest of the
bottle sitting on the ledge just within reach, ready to be
tilted until the last drops were consumed. Ordinarily she
was not that kind of girl, in fact laughed at those who
were, but Paulina needed a night away from it all.
Paulina opened up an umbrella and stepped into the sea
of New Yorkers, entering the crowded bloodstream
known as the commute home. The streets were chock-full
of open umbrellas, and she tried to wedge her way into
the crowd without having her eye poked out by a random
spoke.
As she took her first step, Paulina heard a man's voice
yell, "Miss Cole! Miss Cole!"
She saw a man wearing a dapper suit and dark overcoat
approaching. He was tall, six one or two, with hair so
blond it was nearly white, peeking out from underneath
a billed cap. He looked to be in good shape, late thirties
or early forties, and for a brief moment Paulina felt her
heart rate speed up. The car service company had really
stepped up their recruiting.
"Miss Cole," the man said, stopping in front of her.
"My name is Chester. I'm from New