The Accident


CAUTION: The following is a story about the death of Julian Luna. It is similar 
in a way to the death of Mark Frankel. I realize that this may upset some people. 
If you think you will be upset by it, please don't read this, or skip to the bottom 
for the homage. I wrote this to deal with my pain. May it help you with yours. 

It is the first piece of fanfiction I've ever posted. No flames please. All other 
comments welcome at katygale@concentric.net. 

Mary Katherine is a fictional character who was Julian's son's mistress; embraced 
by Julian with Archon's permission. Mary Katherine is an extremely successful 
money and people manager, of late from Switzerland where she "died" publicly 
and had to leave. 

Oh, and I have no idea if the road from The San Francisco Times to the 
Compound would bring Julian to the roads in the story. 

********************************************** 

THE ACCIDENT 
Copyright Kayla Clark 1996 

Mary Katherine sat in the crimson crushed velvet winged-
back chair, that her predecessor so often occupied, and 
stared into the fire. After sitting with her in a silent 
sharing of sympathy for nearly an hour, Daedalus had taken 
his leave only a few minutes earlier. 

She still couldn't believe it had happened. On the other 
hand, given the prevalence of automobile accidents in this 
modern day, one had to wonder how such a thing had not 
happened before. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

After a long night at the Compound and The Haven handling 
various Kindred and business matters, Julian had spent the 
morning and half the afternoon with Caitlin and other 
members of the newspaper staff working out the details of 
various stories and a merger. Tomas opened the door to the 
limo as his Prince left the sun-shielding walls of The San 
Francisco Times building. The sky was clear and the day 
was gloriously, painfully bright. Julian's skin burned as 
he crossed a patch of sunlight. Tomas opened an umbrella 
to protect the Prince while he climbed into the deeply 
shadowed car.

His mind concerned with the finer points of all the deals 
he'd handled during the last 20 hours, Luna pulled a 
bottle from a tiny cooler and drank. He hated the stuff, 
but knew that he would be dangerous to others as well as 
putting his own life at risk if he didn't feed. The bottle 
of blood, which he compared to cheap wine gone bad, was 
for emergencies. The few remaining drops merely stilled 
his immediate need. Part of his mind considered feeding 
from Tomas or having the driver find blood, but thoughts 
of his other responsibilities clamored for attention and 
he decided to wait until reaching the Compound to feed 
properly.

Jack Garner never knew that he had a potassium deficiency, 
that a banana for breakfast instead of a donut would have 
saved his life. He passed out without ever realizing he 
had done so, and he never saw the black limo that his 18-
wheel semi plowed over. Bystanders saw his body fly out 
the window and crack onto the concrete, never to move of 
its own accord again. They also saw two men crash through 
the broken doors of the dark car onto the street. Blood 
streamed from gashes created by the glass and metal.

Detective Frank Kohanek sat in his sedan eating a hot dog 
at a drive-up fast food place when he overheard a 
description of the accident over the police radio. He 
mentally tuned it out until the dispatcher gave the 
license plate of the limo. "My God!" Kohanek turned the 
motor over and slammed out of the parking slot in seconds, 
throwing the cheap meal out the window. He grabbed the mic 
and said to the dispatcher, "Kohanek responding. Please 
describe victims."

"Two white and one Hispanic male."

"Dammit, Judy, is one of 'em Julian Luna?!"

"General description sounds like it could be, but no 
positive ID yet."

"Tell whoever gets there first to put a dark blanket over 
him."

"Paramedics are en route."

"Judy, for chrissakes! Listen to me. Tell 'em to cover 
him! It's important!"

No answer. Probably to be expected, Frank thought. They 
all think I'm crazy. He pulled out his cellular and called 
the Prince's Compound. 

An elderly female voice answered, "Luna residence. May I 
help you?"

"This is Detective Frank Kohanek. Do you know who I am?"

"Yes. What can I do for you, Detective?"

"Get some people out to Van Ness and Market. Julian's been 
in an accident and is bleeding on the street in the sun. 
I'm on my way, but I don't know if I'll make it in time. 
Hell, I don't know what to do if I *do* get there in 
time."

There was no response. He pressed the FLASH button to see 
if he'd accidentally hung up on the secretary. Nothing. 
She must've hung up while he was talking. He gunned the 
motor and shot past a suit in a grey Volvo.

Five minutes later, as he turned onto Market Street, he 
could see smoke rising over the heads of the people in the 
crowd. "Please let that be the cars," he pleaded to 
Whoever was listening. 

He parked at the edge of the crowd and shoved his way 
through. It wasn't the cars. Two of the bodies were in 
flames. Three paramedics were huddled in shock several 
feet away from the fire. 

"Blankets!!" Frank yelled at them as he ran towards the 
rescue vehicle. "Put the fire out with blankets!"

The paramedics snapped back from their shock and obeyed. 
As he grabbed a blanket, Kohanek heard the scream of 
motorcycles zooming towards him. Working together, the four humans killed the flames in seconds - just as Cash, 
Lorraina and two other Kindred burst through the crowd,
running.

The uniformed policemen controlling the morbid crowd dove 
after the four bikers. The leading cop grabbed the 
trailing Kindred who, without turning, kicked the cop into 
the crowd. 

Cash stopped, turned and ordered his people to continue. 
To the policemen, he spoke sharply, "We don't want any 
trouble. I'm only gonna' say this once. I'm in charge of 
security for Julian Luna and my people and I are going 
over there." 

As Cash turned, he closed his eyes and swallowed. He 
already knew what was to be seen. His senses had told him 
when he past the building at the corner that his Prince - 
the Kindred who had been his teacher and friend - was 
gone. He had to be strong for his clansmen, so he opened 
his eyes and jogged over to the bodies. He glanced into 
Kohanek's eyes before kneeling beside his comrades.

The detective had moved the paramedics away from the 
Kindred, saying that Luna's security people were specially 
trained for emergencies. "I'm sorry," Frank said to Cash. 
"I got here as soon as I could. Is there anything that can 
be done?"

"No," Cash replied quietly. "He's gone. He's free." 

~~~ 

Mary Katherine, whom Julian had been grooming for the last 
five years to be Prince of San Francisco, placed her 
Sire's ashes in the nearly two hundred year old coffin in 
Manzanita. All the San Francisco Primogen and many of the 
San Francisco Kindred had gathered to pay their last
respects. Many eyes brimmed with blood tears and the 
redness and puffiness of many other eyes betrayed earlier 
tears.  Cameron was too smart to display hypocritical 
tears. He attended to make sure the Prince was dead. Eddie 
had been fooled - he wouldn't be. 

Cameron offered to help Daedalus and Cash lower the 
coffin. After doing so, he dropped a long-stemmed white 
rose into the grave. "Peace be with you, Julian."

Every Kindred present followed the ritual, wishing Julian 
Luna peace, thanking him for his help, reminding 
themselves that he was now truly free and had gone to the 
light. 

Waiting until everyone had shared their time with Julian, 
Mary Katherine held her rose over the grave and, 
paraphrasing words of the author Mark Rein-Hagen, said, 
"To be Kindred is to be trapped by the Hunger. The Beast 
may only be kept subdued by the greatest effort of will; 
to deny the Hunger enrages the Beast, until nothing may 
keep it in check. Thus we must commit monstrous acts to 
stop ourselves from becoming monsters - that is the 
Riddle. *Monsters we are, lest monsters we become.* That 
is the paradox of our life. 

"Julian was the greatest among us at restraining the 
Beast. His teachings, strength, fairness and compassion 
will be his legacy. You deserve your freedom, my Sire. You 
deserve final peace and eternal joy."

Tears streaming down her face, Mary Katherine, Prince of 
San Francisco, dropped the last rose, picked up a handful 
of dirt and drizzled it over the flowers, turned and 
walked to her limo. There would be plenty of time to 
mourn. Now, her Sire would want her to secure the city. 

~~~~~~~~~~ 

Eternal peace, Mark. Thanks for the entertainment!  Peace and Health to your 
family in their grief.