“Well, look who decided to wake up.” The woman greeted and placed the candle on the table near Laura’s bed. She examined the machine readout and took some of her own as she wrapped around an inflatable blood pressure device to her left arm. She also stuck a thermometer in Laura’s mouth. After a minute, it beeped.
“98.6. Got some of your color back too. The infection’s all but gone and...” She studied the gauge on the blood pressure machine. “...blood pressure looks good too. Lucky that friend of yours dropped you off when he did.”
“My friend? Who dropped me off?” She spoke weakly.
“I don’t know, dear. He didn’t leave a name. He saved your life. That’s what he did.”
“Who was he though?” She asked. Her voice cracked. She was still weak.
“Never seen him before. He did have an accent of some type.”
“A Russian accent?”
“Now you mention it. Yes Honey, it did sound Russian. He left as soon as he left you about a few days ago. Didn’t leave a number or anything.”
“Where am I?”
“You’re in Chicago, Dear. You’re safe.”
“The...Paul Simon safe house, I was taken from there. I have friends probably worried about me.”
The nurse gave her an unreadable look, glanced down at her clipboard and made a few notations. She spoke under her breath something inaudible and it bothered Laura.
“What’s wrong?” Laura asked.
The nurse tapped her pen on the clipboard for a few seconds and then met Laura’s gaze once more.
“I bet you’re hungry. I’ll bring you something hot to eat. I’m sure you’re starving.”
The nurse exited the room. She pushed the door to her room closed and had a muted conversation with a man outside. She struggled to listen to what they were saying but could not make out anything over the beeping of the heart rate monitor. Laura did feel the desire to eat something though. She also felt the urge to pee. She felt around for a catheter and located the tubing. She followed it with her right index finger until she found the bag. It was empty. She resituated the bag to a lower position between her legs, the bag began to fill and she felt the urine expel from her body. Her right thigh felt the warmth of the urine as the bag expanded leaning against it.
Laura meditated about the man with a Russian accent. The man from her dream called her a pussycat. He also had Azrael eyes. Something was wrong about what she remembered. She struggled to pull out what was real or fantasy. She remembered two extremely large Azrael behind the Russian accented one. Her hand rubbed across her shoulders again. Bones, there were bones stuck there, she thought. Memories of a bearded Azrael popped into her mind. It frightened her. Its creepy smile along with those eyes raised her heartbeat and she could hear it as the machine beeped in a quicker cadence. The image of it eating her lover, Charles Nicholson, incited a scream.
“Charles, no!” She cried out and sobbed quietly afterwards.
Her emotions were out of control. The nurse quickly entered the room and added some medication to her IV. Moments later, Laura found herself falling into a deep slumber.
“Charles...” She whispered before she entered sleep.
The nurse resituated Laura’s pillow and pulled the blanket over her chest. She changed the bag of urine with a clean one and wrote down new readings from the indicators nearby. She applied ointment on the infected tissue, replaced the bandages and an antibiotic was administered through the IV to help fight the infection.
This kind of care would have been unavailable at the Paul Simon facility. Vladomir made the right choice bringing her to Chicago. Laura would never get to meet the man who saved her from death or know who he was. Although the Veil managed to document the encounter through Vlad’s own journals and through moles within Chicago’s population, Laura chose to omit those days from memory never speaking of them again.
Chapter 12
Secrets Part I
The dirt road leading to the cabin that exited the paved road was hidden behind wild brush. The whole area returned to Mother Nature. Vines and weeds concealed signs that once provided automobile information. Fortunately, for Jason some landmarks that led to the cabin remained unobstructed. He followed east along the large boulders, headed north along the small lake and eventually found traces of the dirt road that led to the cabin. The sounds of nature confirmed to Jason that the world no longer belonged to humans.
As he approached the driveway that led to the cabin, sounds of movement within the house caught his attention. He hoped that the place was vacant. In the state of the dwelling, whoever was inside did not show much attention to maintaining the exterior. Nature had reclaimed the building, torturing the wooden posts that held the roof of the porch with thorny vines. The smell of Azrael crept around the cabin and entered Jason’s nose. They were behind the house. Maybe their movements were the noises that he heard, he thought. He climbed over the thick bushes and wild grass that hung over a rotten wooden fence behind the house. The clanking of chains along the shuffling feet in grass alerted his senses. Their sudden moans and gurgling grunts carried weakly in the air. They had noticed his presence as well. Five Azrael were chained to a rusty old riding lawnmower that had not seen use in years. As they realized what Jason was, they immediately lost interest. Their bodies were but skin and bone. Along with cuffs that held their feet another larger one was wrapped around their necks. Nails were welded onto the inside and it dug into their throats. A long chain left the clamp and ended just above back door. What was going on there? Movement inside caused Jason to lower his posture and listen.
“Will you shut the hell up out there?” A man with a hoarse voice hollered from inside. His voice sounded as if he drank a lot and smoked several packs of cigarettes a day. He entered a coughing fit. “God damned it, you got me coughing...” He coughed once more. “...again.”
The back door opened revealing a large bearded man. His face was weathered and his hair was wild. He held a revolver in one hand and a bottle of whisky in the other. It was empty. The smell of his breath revealed why. He tossed it at the group. It struck one in the skull and it staggered.
With his hand now free, he grasped a handful of chains that were travelling through a large d-ring screwed into the frame of the house and onto the clamps that fit snugly around each Azrael’s neck. He tugged hard nearly lifting one of them off the ground. They gasped and choked on blood as the nails dug into their gullets.
“Shut the fuck up. I don’t see anything out there.” He spat as he spoke.
The old man was as massive around as he was tall with the purest definition of old man strength there ever was. He let go of the chains and they dropped. The man scanned the woods once more and reentered the house. The door slammed closed and muted cussing could be heard behind the door.
That man seemed dangerous. There’s no way it would be safe to meet Giselle there, he thought. He was about to walk away when one of the Azrael caught his attention. It was a female. Her tank top hung limp on her body and her breasts were hanging out. It didn’t excite him at all. Nothing about her appeared healthy. He considered it again and realized that his desire for women was no more, probably a by-product of the virus. It doesn’t spread by sex. He glanced up at her sunken in face. She was watching him. To entertain his mind he pointed at her breasts and grunted. She stared at him with a blank look. He pulled at his shirt and gestured at hers followed by a grunt. She brought her chin down inspecting her appearance. She made an effort to cover herself up. Her movements were extremely slow and taxing. Her eyes met Jason’s and she pulled her chin up with a crooked smile. She was aware of her actions. He felt a huge wave of relief, knowing that he wasn’t alone anymore. He struggled to get the attention of the others but it was no use. She was the only one like him.
Jason decided that he would attempt to get her free of the chains. As he neared them, the others made groans and moved around a bit making lots of noise.
“Fucking Christ! Can I get any pea
ce around here?” The man shouted.
It sounded like he was pulling at the doorknob. Jason had nowhere to hide in time. The door flung open and the man spat obscenities once more. Jason charged in tackling the man on his back. He tripped over his pants that were unzipped, unbuttoned, and relaxed. The man was completely surprised. They both fell inside the doorway.
“Fuck!” He hollered as the wind was brought out of his lungs.
Lucky for Jason the man forgot to bring his pistol this time. Jason easily overpowered him and his hands reached down strangling the man. His face turned beat red as Jason squeezed the life out of him. Veins throbbed on his forehead whilst struggling to breathe. Suddenly, the man ceased his struggle and a tear escaped his right eye. He attempted to speak.
“Ja...suu...?”
Jason released his grip and stood up over the man. He coughed and gasped for air as he held his right hand gently against his own throat while reaching out towards Jason’s face with his left.
“Son...is that you?” His voice was even more gravelly than before. He tried to clear his throat with grunts.
Jason walked out and stood on the porch outside. He was confused. His father was dead. That’s what Janet told them. Janet was his father’s girlfriend before he died. He hadn’t heard from his old man in over eight years. She said that he drowned in the river after getting too drunk while fishing on the Miss. They never found the body but held a funeral and everything. How is he alive? He turned to inspect the man once more. He was sitting up, leaning against a recliner while rubbing at his neck. The scar on the left cheek, hidden by the gnarly beard, was from a broken bottle of Jack. His left ear still had holes from earrings and a tattoo on his left forearm was the final piece to the puzzle. Fucking hell, it was his father. The man started a coughing fit again.
“Damn it son, I told you you’d be the death of me.” He smirked and laughed hard followed by a violent coughing fit once more.
Jason reentered the house and gently patted his father’s back. He spun him around and studied his father’s eyes.
“What the fuck’s wrong with your eyes boy?” He asked with a squint.
Jason stepped back and motioned biting on his left arm.
“Fucking say something Jason. Never liked that miming bullshit.”
Jason grabbed his throat and shook his head.
“You can’t talk? About fucking time!” He belted out a good laugh. “Couldn’t get you to shut the hell up on those fishing trips. You asked so many goddamned questions.”
Jason smiled and nodded his head. He sat down on the back porch and examined the Azrael chained to the lawnmower. He pointed towards them.
“What about ‘em? Keeps the looters away.” He sat next to Jason.
Jason shook his head with a scowl.
“So what’s your deal son? What the fuck’s wrong with you? Are you one of ‘em?” He asked. Jason studied the Azrael gathered nearby, stood up and walked over to them.
“Wait! Don’t get too close to ‘em now.” His father warned.
Jason stopped and gave his father a wicked grin. He returned his approach to the Azrael, pointed towards the female with the tank top and turned to his father for a reaction.
“Tits?”
Jason agreed but pointed at her again.
“Tits, I call her Tits. They’ve shrunk a bit since she hadn’t eaten much but she’s still got ‘em.”
Jason grinned. He was definitely his father’s son. He gestured to her, back at himself and nodded. He motioned towards the others and shook his head.
“You’ve got tits?”
Jason smacked his face.
“I told ya I’m not good at this shit.” His father admitted and released a few more violent coughs.
Jason tried again.
“She’s like you?”
Jason nodded.
“She’s got a dick?”
Jason’s jaw dropped. He looked away.
“Just fuckin’ wit’ ya boy. So she’s not a total Nutjob like the others?”
Jason smiled and nodded.
“Ya, it makes sense I guess. She was the easiest to catch. But the bitch acts totally bat shit crazy sometimes. She’s calm now, though. I think it has to do with her period or something. You know, that time of month bullshit, except it happens every day. Maybe the virus like amplifies her menstruals so much that it happens every day. Yup, that’s what it is.”
Jason shook his head.
“No? Well shit, what the fuck’s wrong with her then? Reminds me of how your mother and sister got when they...”
Jason covered his father’s mouth with his hand.
“What’s the problem?” He asked but his words were muffled by Jason’s hand.
Jason shook his head. He gestured sleeping and then a ferocious beast.
“The Boogeyman?”
The fuck? Jason thought. His reaction said the same and his father noticed.
“A sleeping zombie?”
Jason shook his head followed by a shrug.
“Fuck it, just tell me. Oh shit, you can’t.” His father laughed hard.
Jason smiled and gestured it again.
“When you sleep you act like them?” He nodded towards the other Azrael.
Jason nodded.
“Azrael don’t sleep son. That’s the stupidest shit I’ve ever heard.”
Jason tapped his temple and then gestured sleeping.
“So when your mind rests the cannibalistic ape comes out?”
Jason nodded. He moved towards the female Azrael in the tank top and attempted to remove her shackles.
“Whoa! What are you doing? If you let her go she’s gonna attack me.”
Jason disagreed and continued to release her. His dad ran into the house. He shut and locked the door.
“She don’t like me son and it’s not because the chains.” He hollered on the other side of the door.
What did he do to her? The shackles fell off and she smiled at Jason. Suddenly, she charged the door like a crazed monster banging and growling at the door. What the hell did he do to her?
Jason knew what he could do to calm her but he needed to make sure his father would be all right. Hell, he may have deserved it. In any case, he was hungry too. He sprinted into the woods.
“Where the fuck you going boy? You can’t leave me like this?” He hollered while looking through the small window of the door.
Thirty minutes later Jason returned dragging a wild boar’s carcass. The Azrael woman was still assaulting the door. It was almost broken into. Jason grunted, calling attention towards the female. She ignored him. He grunted even louder and eventually she turned. She had several bullet wounds on her body. Flesh was torn from her chest and face but had scabbed up already. The cuts in her neck from the shackle were but thick scar tissue now. When she noticed the boar, she wasted no time in feasting on its meat. Jason had already eaten his fill. He debated whether to feed the others. They would only become a liability if they were to escape. They had no control over their humanity. Yet, he wondered the same for his father.
“I’m coming out. Better keep that bitch away from me.” He ordered.
Jason stood between them and nodded his head. She was too busy eating to worry about her quarrel with his father anyway, so he believed.
“You made me shoot off one of her nipples.” He leaned over and picked up the severed flesh. “Tits!” He grumbled.
Jason inspected her and noticed a large chunk of meat removed from her right breast. It had already scabbed up. However, the nipple wouldn’t return. He looked back at his father and shrugged. The sounds of her biting into the meat made his father cringe.
“This how you eat now?” He nodded towards the boar and gestured his left hand towards the blood and pieces of torn flesh on his chin.
Jason nodded and wiped his mouth with his right forearm.
“Jesus son, guess I gotta be happy you didn’t drag over another one of us...er...me...never mind.” He mumbled. His dad slowly sa
t back down on the top step of the porch and Jason sat next to him. They both watched Tits eat.
“So...you taking Tits from me? Is that your plan?”
Jason shrugged. He stood up and walked inside.
“Fucking don’t leave me out here with that thing!”
His father struggled to stand up. His increased heartrate brought attention on the female. She studied his movements. Before he could get up Jason was back with a photograph in a frame. He sat down next to his father again. Tits returned her attention on the boar’s carcass.
“Don’t fucking do that.”
Jason looked confused.
“She’s gonna eat me, boy.”
Jason waved it away and handed his father the photograph. He examined the photo.
“I don’t even remember taking this.”
Jason nodded in agreeance. His father was drunk most of the time. He’s surprised he remembered anything from the past at all. He pointed to Giselle.
“Giselle? Is she doing alright?” He asked.
Jason shrugged. He patted the porch and to Giselle in the photo.
“No, no she’s not here. Is that why you came? You lookin’ for your sister?”
Jason nodded. He noticed his father kept a sharp eye on the female.
“Son, I’ve done some things...bad things that I ain’t proud of.”
Jason studied his father’s face. He was being genuine regardless of the sour aroma of whiskey on his breath.
“Despite all the shit I’ve done. Somehow, I’m still here. I’ve seen great men and women die; children, fucking babies eaten by those monsters.” He aimed a fist towards the Azrael that salivated and pulled towards the boar’s carcass. “But...somehow this piece of shit...” He gestured to himself. “...is still alive. I don’t get it son.” His mind appeared miles away.
The Azrael (Book 4): Tricon Page 7