Karen felt tears welling in her eyes. She slapped the top of the car roof hard, the pain welcoming. “You can take your revenge, but it can’t be your goal. We need to find the spaceship, and if anyone in that place knows where it is, we’ll need them alive.” Karen needed to break through to Morgan. She could see the hatred burning in his eyes. There was a much larger issue, and she needed her partner calm and clear-headed.
“Fine,” he said. “I’ll think of killing Keegan as a bonus. Happy?”
Karen wasn’t convinced. “Morgan, we need to stay focused on the plan. Find and destroy that alien ship, then we can worry about getting Keegan.”
Morgan began pacing back and forth, running his fingers through his hair. Karen had never seen the man so agitated. She took a step toward him, wanting to calm him down, but stopped abruptly as Morgan spun to face her. They locked stares.
“I won’t jeopardize our objective. The ability you have is dangerous, world altering. I know. I get it. It needs to die with you.”
Karen was taken aback by his words. As true as they were, she wasn’t ready to hear them spoken. Without hesitation, she dove into Morgan’s mind, but before she could see anything, the blackboard went up like an impenetrable wall.
“Don’t,” Morgan said.
She wondered if he meant to kill her. Was she just a tool being used to get the job done? She thought she knew Morgan, had felt a connection.
“What do you mean, ‘die with me’?” She dove into his mind again only to find the blackboard.
“No one can have the ability you have. I get it. Now stop worrying. I said I’d help you and I mean it. Let’s go, we’re wasting time.”
Karen opened the car door and got in. They drove to a gas station in silence then filled up the tank before heading to the New York State Thruway.
Chapter 25
Nothing was said during the car ride, and Karen didn’t bother trying to read Morgan’s mind. He seemed to relax, the anger leaving him with the passing miles. Karen’s own trepidation dwindled at the thought of Morgan ending her life after all this was over. She wondered, was that for the best? She didn’t want to die; had hoped in the end to have her life back. But realistically that wasn’t possible. With her ability, she’d never be the same again.
“I guess they had a pretty good head start, with us being at the library for so long,” she said, breaking the silence.
“I didn’t think we’d catch them.”
“So we’re going to drive around until we find them?”
“Of course not, but if they went this way, which is the shortest route to Kingston, then I figured they’d go back this way, too.”
Morgan paid the toll and traveled down the exit ramp. He took a left at the end and then another left, getting onto the south-bound side.
“I thought we were going to try and find the place, but instead we’re going to follow them back to the bar—when they’re fully armed?”
An eighteen-wheeler drove by, its mass shaking the car like a mini-earthquake.
“No,” Morgan said. “We’re waiting for them to drive by so we can follow them. All we need is one of them to tell us where the base is located.”
Karen unbuckled her seatbelt and faced Morgan. “And how do you plan on abducting an agent?”
Morgan smiled, and Karen could see that the old Morgan—the version she preferred—was back.
“Run them off the road,” he said.
Karen opened her mouth to comment, but decided not to. She had to stop being surprised by the new and frightening things in her life. The world was dangerous, but even more so now that she was aware of supernatural beings and organizations like The Murphy Unit. These things needed to become ordinary; as scary of a thought as that was. Morgan reached into the backseat and pulled his backpack to the front. Unzipping the front pocket, he produced a pair of sunglasses, a Yankee’s baseball cap, and a fake beard.
“Are we attending a Halloween party?” she asked.
“You’re a riot,” Morgan said, zipping up his bag. “I don’t need anyone seeing my face.” He tossed the bag over his shoulder. “You better get in the back. Stay down. Keep my bag company.”
Karen frowned before climbing into the backseat. She lay down as flat as possible, positioning herself on her side in a fetal possession. Looking up, she could see a portion of the back of Morgan’s head. She watched as he put the cap on, along with the beard and sunglasses. He turned around, facing her. She wasn’t sure if what she was looking at was funny or frightening.
“How do I look?” he asked.
Up close, the beard looked fake, like something people wore on talk shows to hide their identity. From a distance, Karen thought it would be fine.
“Honestly,” she said, laughing, “you look ridiculous.”
“As long as it does the job.” Morgan turned back around. “Comfortable?”
“I’m fine.”
An hour passed by, the two not saying much. Karen began to grow tired when Morgan spoke, his voice excited.
“I think they’re coming.”
“How do you know it’s them?”
“Oh, it’s them. Big truck and a line of sedans.”
Karen’s sleepiness evaporated. Her immediate reaction was to sit up and look, but she remained down. Her pulse quickened as her heart thumped against her breastbone. She tried flattening herself further. She wanted no one from the Murphy Unit to know she was alive. She felt the car move as Morgan pulled away from the side of the road. Karen wished she’d thought more about the plan. Maybe she should’ve waited at a diner or gas station while Morgan performed his dangerous task. No, they were a team and needed to be together; to work as a unit against The Murphy people. Yes, she was terrified, but she had to be strong and believe in her partner. She needed Morgan more than he needed her. Asking him to do anything without her, to risk his life, wasn’t something she could or would ever do.
“Ticket booth coming up,” Morgan warned her. Karen felt the car slowing. Morgan rolled down the window, took the ticket from the machine, and drove off. “Okay, we’re clear, just lay back and relax.”
“Relax? How am I supposed to relax when we’re going to purposely cause an accident with the enemy? The same people who’ve been after you for years and shot at me all day.”
“I’ll let you know when we’re going to hit them, and besides, it’ll just be a little tap. Don’t stress.”
“Don’t stress?” Karen asked, incredulously. “I’ve been stressing out my ass all day and night. I was free. They thought I was dead, and now my ass is heading straight for them.”
Karen heard Morgan laughing. She was glad at least one of them found the situation amusing.
“Sounds funny when you put it like that. But remember, we’re trying to save the world.”
“No shit!” Karen told him. “Of course it sounds funny coming from a guy who’s practically indestructible.”
Morgan was right. They were trying to save the world, and what could be more intense than that? “Do you mind if I keep blabbing,” Karen asked. “It’ll keep me from really freaking out back here.”
“I told you, they’ll simply think I’m a bad driver who wasn’t paying attention. One car, two at the most, will stop and pull over. The rest will head onward to the destination. The mission is too important for all of them to stop and make a big deal out of a little fender bender.”
“What do you care? You can’t be killed.”
Morgan huffed. “Not true at all. I’m not indestructible. It’s just really, really, hard to kill me.” Karen could hear the smile in his voice.
“And just how do you kill your kind? I mean your previous kind, the real vampires. Is it like in the movies?”
Morgan laughed again. “Not all movies are the same. Let’s get through this, then we can discuss vampire killing.”
Karen wanted to search his thoughts, see what he was thinking, but now wasn’t the time. Morgan needed to remain calm and focused. She knew the basics
of how to kill a vampire through legends, but figured she ought to know for sure, since they really did exist.
Silence filled the air, save the hum of the engine. Karen could sense the tension rise during the lapse of conversation.
“Impact in a few seconds,” Morgan warned.
She closed her eyes.
The car swerved sharply, followed by a jolting impact that she felt in her bones. Then it was over.
“That’s it,” Morgan said.
Karen smiled, feeling a sharp sting and something moist on her lips. Touching her mouth with her fingers, she saw that she was bleeding. She must have bitten her lip. Her blood was bright red, almost candy apple in color, not like the dark crimson spilled back at the bar. She’d cut herself before, but never remembered her blood being so bright in color. Was her blood different now, altered because of the gift?
The car slowed. Looking up, she saw Morgan’s hand waving. He was telling the man he hit to pull over. Karen swallowed; her throat tightened.
“He’s slowing down with us,” Morgan reported. “The one we hit, along with another vehicle. The others in the convoy are still maintaining their speed. The driver is using a radio. He must be informing the others what happened.”
As Morgan pulled to the side of the highway, the car began to vibrate and a loud propeller-like sound filled Karen’s ears. Her heart jumped in her chest before she realized it was just the divots alongside the road, used for keeping sleepy drivers awake.
“Okay,” Morgan said. “This is it. We’ve only got two cars to deal with.”
“Is that good?”
“As long as the lead car is just there to pick up the other agent in the car we hit. Hopefully they’ll leave just the one guy to work out the details with me while the others go on ahead.”
“And if they all wait together?”
“Then there’ll be a lot of killing to do.” Morgan’s voice was grim, and Karen was taken aback by how easily he said it. He was fully prepared for battle and she needed to be, too. But he was, at least in part, a killer. “I’m getting out,” he told her. “Don’t move unless I tell you to. Okay?”
“Yeah,” Karen said.
Morgan opened the car door and got out.
Karen couldn’t see a thing except for the back of the driver’s seat. She had no idea which way Morgan went. Did the agents’ cars pull in front or in back of theirs? Was one of the cars in the front while one was in back, a surrounding pattern? That would seem like the most strategic. She was being foolish. It was a minor fender bender and the agents wouldn’t suspect a thing; just some moron not paying attention.
She hated waiting in the backseat; useless and helpless and having no idea what was happening. She heard voices, but between the windows being rolled up and the occasional vehicle passing by on the road, she couldn’t make out what was being said. Her job was to lay and wait, let Morgan handle this part. So she did.
Gunshots rang out, almost causing Karen to sit up. She needed to see what was happening, but at the same time she needed the cover. Her chest ached as her heart worked triple time.
No, she told herself. Stop it. Morgan was a supernatural being, a former vampire. She’d seen him take a bullet to the head and get up as if nothing had happened. She had to put her faith in him, knowing he could take care of himself. More gunshots rang out. Karen flinched with each thunderclap.
She waited, listening as more and more gunfire erupted. She closed her eyes, feeling inadequate. More gunshots sounded. Karen couldn’t take anymore and was about to risk a look out of the window when a loud bang shook the car. The roof bowed inward just before the window above her head exploded, sending shards of glass down on her.
Chapter 26
Morgan stood next to the car, away from the road. The air was brisk and the highway relatively calm, with only an occasional car or truck racing by. He smiled. The less witnesses the better. The driver of the vehicle he had hit—a rather large man—got out of the car.
“Are you some kind of an asshole?” the burly man asked, slamming the car door shut. He stood somewhere around six-foot-five, was broad-shouldered and had a military style haircut. A small earpiece extended from the man’s ear to the side of his cheek.
Morgan remained where he was, sizing up the scene. The agent riding shotgun remained in the car. Why had two cars pulled over if the passenger wasn’t going to get out and continue on with the group? Damn, if the other car didn’t leave, he was going to have quite a fight on his hands. If only vampire blood could be made into a powder form, like milk—easy to carry and no refrigeration needed.
“You deaf?” the man howled.
“Sorry about that,” Morgan said, glancing around. He’d made a mistake by pulling in front of the car he’d hit, letting the other agent-occupied vehicle sandwich him in. He was in the middle, the worst place to be for someone without eyes in the back of their head. “No need to get hostile and raise our voices. It’s only an accident and thank goodness no one was hurt.” The agent let out a long breath, clearly trying to remain calm, but not doing a good job.
Through gritted teeth, the agent asked, “Are you going to just stand there like a fuck-sack or give me your information so we can move this along?”
The man held out his hand.
Morgan tried to keep a straight face, but the word fuck-sack was too funny. He grinned.
“You think this is funny?” the man growled, his face reddening. “Do you know who I am?”
“Some angry oversized accountant,” Morgan said. “I’m waiting for the police.” Morgan needed to stall, hoping that if he took enough time the lead car would leave.
“Listen, piss-head,” the big man said, taking a step forward. “I ain’t waiting for the cops. Give me your info and I’ll get in touch with you.” The man seemed like he was trying hard not to explode. He obviously had anger management issues.
Morgan shook his head. “Had this happen once before. The guy claimed a lot more damage than what I caused. Nope, going to do this by the book.” Morgan crossed his arms over his chest, showing that he wasn’t going to budge.
The agent’s cheek muscles bulged and his nostrils flared. The man’s big fingers formed fists. He started forward, clearly no longer able to control himself.
Morgan had hoped to buy some time, but wound up infuriating the guy instead.
The agent came within a foot of Morgan and cocked his arm back, ready to swing, only to freeze. The man’s eyes narrowed as he put a hand to his earpiece.
“Sir?” he said, pausing, becoming a completely different person. “Yes, sir.” The agent took a step backward. He brought his hand away from his ear and looked into Morgan’s eyes. “We’ll wait. My partner already called the troopers.”
The agent in the passenger seat was talking into his earpiece. A moment later Morgan heard the car behind him pull out. He glanced back to watch the car drive off and hid his smile. When a plan worked, a plan worked. He returned his stare to the angered agent.
“I believe you wanted to rip me a new one?” Morgan said.
The big man, now calmer, said, “I’m warning you, buddy.” He wagged a finger in Morgan’s direction.
Morgan needed to get the passenger out of the vehicle. The best way to do that was to get the guy in front of him to take a swing. “Your boys are gone. You don’t have to act properly. I’m sure your partner wouldn’t mind watching you kick my ass.” The man was reddening again, his chest heaving. Morgan pushed further.
“You’re an oversized asshole, and I mean it. I can practically smell the shit coming off your breath. Why don’t you take your little ass back to your momma and let her give it to you good.” Morgan had no idea where the words originated, but they seemed to be just the kind of juvenile material the guy needed to hear in order to really get him going. Adding to the verbal insults, Morgan launched a spitball at the man, hitting him square in the forehead. Everything seemed to freeze at that moment as if caught in time, except for the man’s color, which
went from crimson to purple.
“Fuck this,” the agent said, and charged at Morgan.
The agent in the car threw the door open and jumped out. Morgan smiled again, this time fangs revealing themselves. Hook, line, and sinker.
He met the charging oaf, connecting a clawed hand to the man’s ribs while ducking past, the big man’s badly telegraphed move no match for Morgan’s speed and agility.
The burly agent stopped abruptly. Morgan stood behind him, holding pieces of flesh, intestine, and rib. The agent looked down at the gaping hole in his side before collapsing to the ground.
A gunshot sounded a fraction of a second before Morgan felt the bullet sting his right shoulder. Then another shot tore into his neck, followed by another. The other agent was fast, not allowing the gruesome scene to halt his actions. Morgan couldn’t let the man get off too many shots or his body, not having any vampire blood nearby, wouldn’t heal properly.
Morgan spun around, catching the man’s stare with his gaze. He held the man still with his vampiric trance for a moment, but the agent must have trained for vampire attacks, because he came out of the trance quickly and began firing his weapon again.
Another two bullets caught Morgan dead center in the chest. The agent was using a .45 caliber with hollow points. The inside of Morgan’s body was torn apart by ricochets. Killing the man would be easy for Morgan, even taking so much damage. But with the other agent dead, he needed this one alive.
Morgan tumbled sideways using the agent’s car as a shield. His neck, shoulder, and chest were an inferno of pain, the rounds likely containing garlic—the convoy of Murphy people was vampire-ready. Poking his head around the corner, he saw the man duck behind Karen’s car. Crouching down, Morgan sprung upward, launching himself over the hood of the agents’ car, hoping to come down where the man was hiding.
Morgan mid-air, the agent popped up and fired two more shots. One connected with Morgan’s abdomen, the other hitting him in the thigh. He’d taken a lot of damage already, and his body grew weaker by the second. The agent was well-trained, a soldier and an excellent shot.
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