That left me with two options. With the first I could just sit here and wait for someone to open the door. That meant I had to wait for someone else to get arrested, booked, possibly questioned, before they came through that door. While I didn’t doubt there was a nice steady supply of criminals in the city just waiting to get caught, I wasn’t about to rely on them to make my escape.
The second option was to head down the hallways to find another way out. A building this size would have more than one entrance and exit, for fire escapes if nothing else. But beyond that, I knew there would be a place for the non-police workers to come and go. Not everyone will want to come through the booking room to clock in after all.
The only problem with the second option was time. The longer I stayed in the building, the more likely it was that I’d get caught. At some point someone would realize the patrol cop is missing and will go looking for him. Once they find him in my cell and me nowhere to be found, the place would be on lock down before I’d be able to blink.
But the second plan was the best option, even with all its faults. This time of night gave me the best chance of getting out without incident. The only problem I might have is an alarm on a door that would be locked for the night. Alarmed doors, while definitely an annoyance, won’t keep me inside.
I backtracked and made a turn down the first hallway I found. It led to a hallway with two sets of doors on each side of the hall and a set of double doors at the end. I jogged down the hall, stopping at the double doors long enough to put my head to them and listen. On the other side I couldn’t hear a thing, so I took my shot and opened it. The open space of the lobby greeted me as I entered, complete with its picturesque glass windows stretching from wall to wall to a view of the outside world.
I let a smile form on my invisible lips and walked towards the double exit doors about twenty feet away. The room was eerily quiet. The only sounds I heard were the occasional squeak of my shoes on the freshly cleaned floor. In my mind I could already feel the cool, crisp night air against my hair as I walked across the parking lot in all of my veiled beauty. I could smell the moisture in the air as the atmosphere worked on brewing the fog that would fill the air in just a few more hours.
A blaring alarm horn filled the air, shattering my visions and hope of escape halfway to the door. Red and white lights flashed in a few areas of the room, blanketing me in a flood of swirling light. Between the light, and the sudden onset of fear, I felt sick.
I was so close to being out of this mess, yet so far away from freedom.
I didn’t give up though. Not by a long shot. With everything now going against me, I still had one major advantage.
I was still invisible.
Unless I did something stupid, they wouldn’t have the slightest clue where I was. The only way I could get caught was to have my concentration broken, which would take a fairly nasty hit. I wasn’t too worried about that though. Something told me the cops wouldn’t be swinging, or more importantly shooting, blind. That gave me the advantage.
With the alarms now blaring, I upped my pace to the doors, not worried if anyone could hear my footsteps. I was nearly to the glass double doors when I noticed a police car driving down the parking lot, directly at me. It was decision time. If I moved outside now, there would be a chance the driver would see the door move. But if I didn’t I could end up being stuck inside the rest of the night.
Or at least long enough for them to make a full sweep of the building. Neither option was optimal.
Another car swung in from a nearby parking lot and came to a screeching stop just outside the doors, taking one option off the table. From here, the only thing I had left to do was wait.
The other car pulled its car out front though more deliberately than the first. Both officers got out of the car with their guns drawn and aimed at the glass. Officer Deliberate holstered his gun, grabbed his spotlight, and shined it inside while the other officer moved his gun along with the bright light. I stood still close to the doors while I shielded my eyes from the blinding light.
Deliberate made two full sweeps with the light before he allowed it to come to a stop on the front door.
Against the back wall I notice the shadow of the officers growing, warning me they were getting close. I took a few steps back into the room and away from the glass window, expecting a cop moving on my position.
Shortly after, the glass doors opened and the first cop moved inside, sweeping his gun around rapidly as if he was looking for something to shoot. The other cop stayed at the door and held it open with his foot while sweeping his gun around as well.
Once they seemed content there was nothing in the room, the officer at the door kicked a lever on the door with his foot, which held it wide open while he moved inside. Watching him do that had me wanting to celebrate. They might’ve been here to keep someone from escaping, but little did they know, they were aiding mine.
I waited for both officers to move inside the building before casually walking through the door and into the cool night air. From there I walked as fast as I dared across the parking lot towards a gas station about a half mile up the street. I hoped it would be far enough away to allow me to come up with another plan.
It was going to have to be.
- 26 -
I walked around the side of the BP and allowed my veil to fade. After checking my look in a parked car’s mirrors, I walked around the front and looked for the relics of my parent’s and grandparent’s generation. But to my dismay, there wasn’t a pay phone in sight. I was about to walk inside and ask the dark skinned clerk if I could use the store phone when my salvation pulled into the pumps to fill up; A red and white taxi cab.
I approached the cab driver as he got out of the car to fill up. “Still running tonight?” I asked, hoping I didn’t catch him at the end of his shift.
“I’ve got time,” he said in a thick Indian accent as he placed the pump in his tank. “Where you headed.”
“Two places,” I said with a smile. “Olsen’s pub first, then a house on the south side of the city.”
“Olsen’s is closed this time of night. I’m sure the workers are all long gone by now.”
“Probably,” I said, smiling. “But one of the owners is a night owl. She also forgot a few things before she left.”
“You?” he asked questioningly. “You own Olsen’s?”
“Half of it,” I nodded.
He stood there for a moment, saying something to himself before looking back at me. “What does it take to get on your call list?”
“You have a card?”
He nodded, reached into his cab, and pulled out a fresh, crisp card. Das Sibal.
“I’ll make a copy of this and put it on our wall,” I said. “Once I see the other owner, I’ll let him know to call you if our regular isn’t around.”
“Regular?”
“Bernie Shreeve. He usually sits at the bar waiting for someone to need a ride. I’ve been working with him for years, so I have to give him the priority. But as I’m sure you know, you can only be in one place at a time.”
“I understand,” he smiled and finished pumping his gas. He opened the door for me and I took a seat in the back as he waited for his receipt.
I scooted into the middle while he finished up and scoped out the inside. While I promised to keep him in mind, I wasn’t about to give him the job if his car wasn’t up to snuff. To my amazement, the car was damn near pristine, which I figured was a Greek miracle in the cab world. I would’ve figured someone would have soiled himself or at least thrown up in the back at some point or another. Maybe he just got lucky. It was that, or he was anal about keeping his car clean. Either way, it was a good mark in my book.
As he took his seat, I buckled up and waited to judge him on his second criteria, driving skill. To be fair, I’m in the camp that any trained monkey should be able to traverse the late night streets of any city, except maybe New York or L.A. which has traffic at all times of the day. But even
with that in mind, he kept the car calm and smooth the entire trip to the bar except for when he entered the parking lot. That wasn’t his fault though. There was a good sized pothole we’d been meaning to fix but hadn’t gotten around to. I made a mental note to write it down on my log while I was inside, so I’d call a contractor the moment this mess was done.
Out of instinct, I got out of the car, went to the front door, and reached for my keys. I nearly freaked out when I realized I didn’t have my purse. Settle down, I told myself and walked back to the cab. When I looked inside and didn’t see it still, panic really set in.
There was only one place it could be. Back at the police station.
The ID and everything else they had wasn’t a huge problem since they already knew who I was and where I lived. But not having a way to pay the driver or get inside the bar would cause some trouble.
I was about to get back in the cab when I remembered the spare key. There was a time, when we first opened the bar, when the two of us both had walked outside late at night without our keys. The doors locked behind us, leaving us stranded until we could get a locksmith to let us in. After you get the blessing of a late night, emergency service call, you learn to have a plan ‘b.’ Ours was a spare key stashed on the underside of the gas main in the back of the bar in one of those spare key holders designed to hide under a car.
I went back to the back and grabbed the spare key and went inside. After disabling the alarm, I went to the cash register and pulled out a hundred bucks in cash then went back to our office and scribbled two notes. One was to call someone to fix the hole. The other was to tell Greg I had borrowed the money and would pay it back tomorrow. I knew he wouldn’t care about paying it back so much as knowing where it had gone, but I still wanted to pay it back.
On the way out I grabbed two Cokes, set the alarm, and locked up. I replaced the key and went back to the car where I handed the driver a Coke and took my seat in the back and gave him the street name. I couldn’t remember the house number, but I knew that wasn’t important. Once we got there, I knew where I needed to go.
I stared off into the distance during the trip trying to visualize the night ahead. It was getting late, or early depending on whether you are a night owl or an early bird, leaving me maybe an hour or two of darkness left before the dawn. Even with the trip across the city, I had plenty of time to snoop around and get inside before anyone could notice. I just had to get dropped off far enough away from Officer Ward’s house just in case he was having it watched again.
The driver pulled onto the street and looked back, waiting for me to tell him when to stop. I had him keep going past the house slowly while I tried to get a good look. Like a few hours ago, the place was still lit up, which I found odd even for a potential party house. Really odd when the party house has a cop neighbor. Either they had a way to keep the noise down or Ward was on their payroll. Neither would’ve surprised me. I’d take payment to keep my mouth shut for the occasional late night party too.
I had him stop a good half mile past the house. I handed him the hundred and told him to keep the change which was a generous tip, even considering I made him wait at the bar. He thanked me then drove off down the street.
Not wanting to make the same mistakes I made earlier, I sprinted into the back yard of the nearest house, not stopping until I reached the woods behind it. As far as I could tell, nobody saw my move, and if they did I was in a spot to run off into the woods before the cops could get me.
I followed the trees down until I saw the only house on the street whose lights were still on at this time in the night. You have to love when the bad guys make it easy.
Compared to the house I was collared in, this one had a much plainer back yard. Minus a smattering of trees, a picnic table, gas grill, and a horseshoe pit, there wasn’t much to look at.
Even the look on the house left something to be desired. Just from the light filtering through the windows and from the porch light out back, I saw dozens of dents and scratches where something had slammed up against the house. Most of the dents were large, like head-sized large, taking hail right out of the list of potential causes. The only thing I could think of that would cause that kind of damage was a basketball or something just as big. That or they had more than their fair share of fights in the back yard, and they didn’t care about collateral damage to the house.
I darted from tree to tree, checking the house between moves to make sure nobody was watching my killer stealth moves. But other than the house being lit from wall to wall, I didn’t see a single person inside.
I started to wonder what was really going on in this house. Why would someone just turn every light on and not be inside for it? I’d heard about people who would set their house up to make it look like someone was home, but usually they stop well before this. Usually a light or two would be enough to dissuade random visitors. This was overkill.
Once I was sure nobody was around, I stepped out from the tree I was hiding behind and walked toward the back porch. I made it a few feet from the concrete paving stones when two figures appeared on either side of me, both wearing pure black.
“Well, well, the little belle returns,” the one on the right said. I couldn’t quite pin the voice, but I recognized the face from Walt’s party the other night. He was one of the guards who stood in front of the platform with a gun. I didn’t recognize the other guy, but I assumed he’d been there too.
This must be another of the houses Walt had set up across the city to peddle his drugs from. That or it was a place to house part of his inner circle.
“Miss me, darlin?” I asked with a wink.
He licked his lips and checked me out from head to toe while his buddy to my left smiled and nodded. “You decide to ditch the narc and work for the boss?”
“Nah. I’m here to pick up a friend. A woman, blond hair about five-five, medium sized tits. You seen her?”
The two men looked at each other and smiled. They didn’t have to tell me a word, I knew she was here somewhere and alive if I had to guess. I wondered if they hadn’t taken her to trap me instead. I know if I was in their shoes and lost something as important as a tracking collar that shocks the wearer, I’d keep a close eye on it at all times. They must’ve figured I would come to her rescue sooner or later, just based on how I’d helped Aiden a few times before.
“She might be here,” creep on my right said. “What are you willing to do to find out.”
I smiled then slowly unbuttoned the top two buttons on my blouse. I watched them in pure delight as they practically drooled all over themselves waiting for the grand finale. Little did they know, I had a different type of flash in mind.
I reached for the third button but stopped after touching it. “You boys sure you want to see this?”
They nodded.
I smiled.
I turned my hands to them, palms out and created a bright ball of light in each. Each palm glowed as bright as an LED high beam and got brighter the longer I held the spell. Both men went from drools and smiles to screams and wincing in a matter of moments, but as hard as they tried, they’d never get the image of my lights out of their vision.
At least, not for a while.
Bright light, short distance, and sensitive eyes is a great recipe for temporary blindness and I’d cooked up two batches.
Both of the men dropped to their knees, holding their eyes like it would miraculously return their vision if they rubbed them hard enough. While they writhed in agony, I picked up one of the concrete pavers and whacked the first creep in the back of the head. There was a loud crack upon impact and he fell to the ground in a crumpled heap. Creep two got quiet immediately after the crack trying to figure out what had happened.
Seconds later he found out first hand.
With the two creeps down for the count, I grabbed their wallets to figure out who they were. Kyle Thomas and Melvin Bailey. Both of them were in their thirties and were born here in Atlanta. The only thing odd was findi
ng out that neither one had this listed as their address.
Maybe they were here to hang out, or perhaps my drug house theory was true, I told myself.
I threw their wallets back down in front of them and was about to walk inside when I noticed something odd on the first creep’s wrist. Puncture marks. Six of them on this wrist alone. I checked the other and found another four.
This guy was either a familiar for a local vampire or a feeder for a clan. Neither case was better than the other. Witches don’t have disadvantages against vampires, but they don’t have any key strengths either. Even the youngest vampire was much faster than I could ever be, even with magical augmentation.
I hoped my thoughts were wrong, but deep within my gut I knew the truth. All the signs pointed towards vampires from the start. Back at Walt’s, they kept us in a cage until dark. Only then, after they paraded us through the ravenous partiers and tied to a board on the stage did the night’s main attraction show up. While they didn’t show the natural beauty vampires were generally known for, there might have been a good reason for it. Perhaps they’d altered their appearance on purpose, not wanting to tip off anyone in the crowd. The two morons in front of me might have been on the inside, but I seriously doubted everyone at the party was.
There is a general stigma against vampires in modern society, the truth is most people don’t know what they are looking for. Modern TV and movies has told us vampires are either pasty white with enlarged fangs on each side of their mouth. They are supposed to have a natural beauty that draws every decent looking person of the opposite sex to them like a fly to… well, you can finish that one. I won’t go into the mist or bat forms this version of vampire is said to have, because it doesn’t exist.
Far Too Young To Die: An Astraea Renata Novel Page 17