Sam Harlan (Book 3): Damned Cold by Kevin Lee Swaim Page B

Callie said. “It’s only human.”
    I took a bite of my sandwich, chewed, and swallowed. “I’m hungry.”
    She smiled. “None of this is news to me, Sam.”
    “Yeah, I know, but it’s happening even more since we’ve gotten here. What if I change? What if it doesn’t take me hundreds and hundreds of vampire kills?” My voice dropped until I was whispering. “What if I just wake up and I’m a monster?”
    She was starting to respond when the door opened again. This time, it was a man dressed in a police officer’s black uniform and black coat. The man was a few years older than me and bigger than me, and his beefy face and build hinted at time spent doing manual labor or dedicated sessions in the gym. On his arm was a woman with a long black ponytail. They took their place in line, glaring at the couple in front of them.
    Callie shook her head, then said, “I don’t think you’ll become a monster.”
    “But how do you know?”
    She smiled. “You’ve been through … so much, and you haven’t given up yet. You chose to fight back. You have free will, but you chose to fight. That says something. I think we have plenty of time to figure out how to keep you from becoming a vampire.”
    I wanted to tell her I was plenty worried that we weren’t going to figure out how to stop me from changing. I wanted to tell her that I was troubled by the witchcraft, and by the missing woman. I wanted to tell her that unless there was a vampire to fight, we had no business being in Bement, Illinois.
    Instead, I took another bite and another, until I’d finished my first sandwich and moved on to my second. I washed it all down with more of the bad coffee, then asked, “What do you think of Jodie and Gene?”
    She sipped her iced tea. “I think magic is a temptation most people aren’t able to resist. Think about your life before the vampire attack. Wouldn’t you have been tempted?”
    “Tempted by what?”
    “Power. People used to have faith in God, but as faith has waned, it’s left an empty hole in them. They feel that God doesn’t care. You still feel that way.”
    “Maybe,” I said grudgingly. “I just don’t get,” I waved my hand around, “this.”
    “God cares, Sam. God loves. Just because we don’t understand His will, doesn’t mean He’s not with us.”
    “Why can’t He be with Dorothy Hamm?” After I’d said it, I realized how bitter it sounded. Before Callie could respond, I continued, “If God loves us, how can He let an innocent woman be taken.”
    “ If that’s what happened,” Callie said. “The problem is that we see things through our eyes and not His. It’s not that God doesn’t intervene, but if He did, we wouldn’t have free will.”
    I glanced up as I finished unwrapping my second sandwich. “You’re saying that Dorothy deserves to be missing? That something she did brought this on?”
    “Not at all. What I’m saying is that people make their own decisions. We are all responsible for our decisions, even if they impact others.”
    “You mean Jodie did something she shouldn’t have, and that’s why Dorothy is missing?”
    “We don’t know, Sam. That’s also part of being human.”
    I started in on my sandwich. Callie continued to pick at her salad. Finally, I said, “Well, being human sucks.”
    She smiled at me. “It’s hard when we don’t have the answers. I heard Father Jameson and Father Lewinheim discuss the nature of free will.”
    “Yeah? How’d that go?”
    “Several hours of extensive discussion led them to the same conclusion. Not quite in your words, exactly, but they agreed that sometimes it … sucks to be human. That’s why we must hold tightly to our faith.”
    * * *
    We finished eating and I threw our trash away while Callie used the restroom. When she returned, we exited the restaurant and headed for the truck. Behind us, the door opened and the man in the suit followed us out, along with the woman he seemed intent on displaying as his arm