United Service

by Regina Morris

  “I’ll take the car,” Kate said mockingly. She got in and allowed Sterling to close the door for her.

  The two male vamps listened for heartbeats and breathing as they approached the house, but heard nothing. Ben tested the front door and found it locked. Sterling walked around the house to check the back door. It too was locked, but not for long. Sterling ripped off the handle and made the door useless. He heard Ben do the same on the front one.

  They entered the house. No noise came from any of the rooms. They went from room to room in the small one story house. Clearing the home didn’t take long.

  The kitchen trash overflowed with fast–food wrappers and empty soda bottles. Little to no food was stored in the refrigerator. “Powdered milk and other shit with a long shelf life,” Sterling said as he checked the pantry. “The food is meant to last a while.” He looked around and saw Ben letting Kate in through the front door which barely hung on its hinges.

  Sterling closed the pantry door and glanced over at Kate. He watched as she stepped over the trash and nearly fell making her way to the kitchen. Her physical problems were a puzzle to him, but at least she was doing her best not to disturb anything in the room. She was a caregiver, not a detective or crime scene investigator. He needed to remember that and cut her some slack when he could. He wasn’t one to smile just for the heck of smiling, but he did his best to smile at her as she entered the kitchen.

  “Food in the kitchen is designed for longevity,” Sterling said again, now that Ben was paying attention. Sterling walked into one of the two small bedrooms while Ben and Kate searched the living room for clues.

  The rooms were directly across from each other, only separated by a narrow hallway. Sterling checked each of the rooms. Sleeping bags lined the floor in both of them. No furniture existed in either of the rooms, only sleeping bags. Sterling walked into one of the rooms and opened the closet. He found nothing inside but a few small dresses. He suspected the closet in the other bedroom had boys’ clothes. He checked out the toys that were scattered across the floors. One set meant for girls with dolls and such, the other set of toys were cars and trains.

  Walking across the hallway to the boys’ room, Sterling bent down, ungloved his hands, and touched the sleeping bag on the floor. There may have been six sleeping bags, but they held signatures and tears of many children. Sterling couldn’t get a good account of how many children, but several had been here at one point or another.

  Each room had posters on the wall. Kittens in the girls’ room and dragons in the boys’ rooms. “Separate, but equal,” Sterling said as Kate and Ben joined him in the room. “They separated the children by gender.” Sterling continued to touch the bedding. “Several kids, too.”

  Kate stood watching him, and he did notice the surprised expression on her face. Before she could ask, he answered her question. “I can gather information from inanimate objects. I can tell who they belong to, who used them, how long ago they were touched, and a shit–load of other stuff.”

  Her mouth fell open slightly, and her eyes had grown wide. “That’s like super hero cool.”

  Super hero. It sounded nice. Of course, Sterling didn’t want to fill her in on all the ridiculous side effects he endured because of his ability. Feeling too much on display, he was relieved when the three of them branched out and searched the rest of the house. He heard Ben continuing the search in the living room and Kate down the hall in the bathroom.

  After a few minutes, Ben and Kate rejoined Sterling. “I found a laptop and a planner filled with grocery lists and such.” Ben handed the ledger over to Sterling. “Whoever stayed in this house left the computer here. The battery is dead. I’ll have to charge it up and look at it later.”

  “The bathroom is filthy, but empty,” Kate added.

  Sterling stroked the ledger with his hands and concentrated. He closed his eyes and felt his fingertips tingle. “This book is an inventory of what they need and what was used when the house last had occupants.” Sterling thumbed through the book. A campsite name was listed in the front of the book. “Camp First Foundation.” Sterling felt the pages. “They were here two days ago. … Two new children, a boy and a girl. The camp is near a body of water.”

  Sterling opened his eyes and noticed Kate looked sad.

  “Tiffany can’t swim,” Kate said clearing her throat. “I was supposed to schedule her for swimming lessons in the summer.”

  “You’ll still be able to.” Sterling scanned the room and his eyes fixed on the sleeping bags. Three were crumpled on the floor – one in the girls’ room and two in the boys’ room. The numbers didn’t add up.

  “Maybe the kidnapper stayed in here with the boy?” Ben suggested.

  Sterling concentrated on the room. “No. Another boy slept in here. An older boy.” Sterling studied the poster on the wall. Its bottom edges were detached from the wall. He lifted it up and discovered a list of children’s names and dates.

  Sterling carefully held back the poster and took a picture of the names written on the wall behind the paper. The handwriting wasn’t even or straight. Instead, the letters were sloppy and inconsistent. Sterling touched the poster and placed his hand on the wall. “These names were written by one person.” Sterling carefully traced the names with his finger. “It’s an older boy, also a prisoner. His head had been foggy while writing these earlier names, but he was aware of what he was doing when he wrote them.”

  Kate recognized the second to last name on the list. “That’s Tiffany! She was here.” The date by her name was from two days ago.

  Sterling glanced at the last name. “Stephen Miller was kidnapped and his mother murdered as she slept. Both Tiffany and Stephen were here with this older boy.”

  “Why are they taking kids?” Kate asked.

  “Religious zealots. Crazy people who think they are saving these kids in the name of Jesus,” Ben told her.

  “Oh,” Kate said softly, touching the gold cross necklace she wore.

  Sterling grimaced as he looked at the two. “Crazy religious people freak me out.” He reached under his skin covering and pulled up his medallion. “It’s a beautiful cross, Kate. I wear Saint Genevieve,” he said, showing her his necklace.

  “I’m not very religious,” she said.

  Putting the medallion back, Sterling said, “There’s a difference between being religious, especially for the sake of just having religion, and being a person of faith.”

  She stopped touching her cross. “I mostly wear this cross because my mother gave the necklace to me. She thinks that if anyone suspects I am a vampire, they may dismiss the idea because a religious symbol is touching me.”

  “Is that all the cross is for you?” Sterling asked, now focusing once again on the names behind the poster.

  “Mostly, I guess. I never thought too much about it.”

  Sterling looked at the first few names on the list. They didn’t have dates, so he inspected the first dated one. “I recognize the name Kekoa Aui. I’m betting that is the name of the boy writing all of this. The date by his name is the oldest and it is from five years ago, which matches the research my father had done. There are some names above his, but they have no dates.”

  “The names are written in blood, Sterling,” Ben noted.

  Sterling nodded in agreement. He could smell the dried blood the second he had walked into the room. He suspected the others had done so as well. “This Kekoa kid probably didn’t have a pen, and used his blood to record everyone he knew of. See how the blood looks purple for the last two names. This kid has probably transitioned by now.”

  “Perhaps he’s on the kids’ side. Let’s hope that is still true now that he’s a vamp. He could be feeding off those kids.” Ben took the ledger from Sterling and looked through it.

  They walked into the last of the bedrooms and found where the kidnapper slept. This room was sparsely furnished with only a small cot and desk. Sterling searched the drawers of the desk and found a handful of pens and a pad o
f paper. There was nothing overtly personal in the items, and yet his hands tingled. Brushing his fingers along the top sheet of the notepad, he closed his eyes and tried to get a reading. Unfortunately, the information was out of his grasp, so he took a pencil from the drawer and gently sketched over the top sheet with a thin layer of graphite. The indent from the missing top sheet appeared and he could read the note. It was a girl’s name. Brooke Smith.

  The information wasn’t much to go on, but Sterling seemed certain the name wasn’t that of one of the kidnappers. The name also wasn’t one of the ones on the wall either. Sterling touched every inch of the desk, every pen … everything, but got no new information about the girl. He handed the note to Ben. “I can’t be sure,” Sterling began, “but I think this name is linked to their next victim.”

  Ben read the name, “Brooke Smith. It’s a lead.”

  “It’s also not that uncommon of a name,” Kate added.

  “Give me another minute.” Sterling grimaced as his eyes darted to the cot. He didn’t want to touch the bedding, but took a deep breath, knelt on the ground and placed his hand on the covers. His reading told him that an excessively religious person slept in the bed. He thought he was doing right by kidnapping these children. Sterling knew no god would want children ripped from their homes and their parents murdered.

  Sterling’s feet now itched. He also had the sensation of lice crawling over his scalp. Touching the cot made him itchy everywhere. “I don’t think I’ll get any more out of this house.”

  Ben glanced around. “We know a lot more now though. We’re looking for a whole bunch of kids at a camp near a lake.” He held up the note. “We may also have a new target, which we might be able to confirm once I get this laptop juiced up.”

  “We need to get this list of children’s names to my father. The team can hunt down the names and dates and confirm if they are all vampire children.” Sterling took his phone and dialed his father to send him a picture of the list. With any luck, a pattern would emerge.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Kekoa and Stephen walked away from the small cabin which served as a chapel. They had just endured two solid hours of Deacon Victoria, the owner of the camp, ranting about how all the kids there were the spawns of the devil. She had spent most of the sermon explaining how their vampire parents were demonic – the scourge of the Earth, which must be destroyed. The kids chanted and prayed for salvation so they would not turn into such beasts.

  Deacon Victoria had also given eulogies for both Tyrone and his brother, Jemal. Listening to her carry on about how they could not be saved sickened Kekoa. He and the boy Brian knew the truth.

  Kekoa and Stephen, each with a bible in their hands, continued to walk back to their cabin. Stephen’s walk seemed more even ever since his initial drugs had worn off. Of course, another dose would be given during the evening meal, but that amount was never as much as when the kids were originally taken. The amount given in the evening meal was enough to keep the kids functional, but definitely manageable.

  Stephen’s whitened face, his wide eyes, and quickened heart rate told Kekoa that the boy was unaware of what he and his family were, and why he was chosen to be kidnapped. Stephen didn’t say a word after the long service. He followed Kekoa back towards their cabin in silence, which made Kekoa feel uneasy. This boy was now afraid of him, and of what he may one day be.

  The fact that Kekoa could hear the boy’s heart racing, terrified Kekoa.

  “I won’t hurt you,” he said softly as they walked. Stephen only glanced his way, keeping a safe distance between them. “Being a vampire isn’t a curse, Stephen. We have every right to survive and live out our lives without being hunted. Vampires don’t need to be saved.”

  Stephen’s only response was to look down at the silver bracelet he wore, now understanding the significance.

  Kekoa touched the bracelet on his wrist. The silver felt warm to his touch. “I’m still the same, Stephen. I haven’t turned, not yet anyway. Deacon Victoria preaches that we are demons, but we’re not. We have families and friends that we love.” Kekoa took a deep breath and stopped along the walkway. “Your mother, would you say she’s evil and needs to be killed?”

  The button was hit. “No. My mother is … she’s wonderful,” Stephen cried. “If my mother is a vampire, then … did they …,” his voice trailed off as he peeked at Kekoa with tear–filled eyes.

  “She may still be alive and looking for you. You need to hold on to this hope. Just do what the …” he now chose his word carefully, “… what the humans want you to do. We’ll get out of here somehow.”

  As Stephen began to ask more questions, Kekoa stopped him. He had heard a noise from one of the cabins. They stood in the middle of the circular path which led to all the kids’ cabins, but he could hear people talking … and he recognized one of them as Deacon Victoria’s voice. Taking a look around, Kekoa noticed that none of the humans who guarded the boys was following him, which was not normal – especially lately. The two boys ducked as Kekoa followed the sounds and led Stephen to some bushes that covered a window of the cabin that had once served as the camp’s hospital. It was now Deacon Victoria’s office.

  Kekoa’s tall height allowed him to peer into the cabin. He could only see the back of Deacon Victoria’s head, but he could hear the heartbeats of more than one person inside. He listened with his now superhuman hearing at what transpired inside.

  “I can’t hear anything,” Stephen said.

  “Shh,” Kekoa whispered. “I can.” He looked back through the window.

  Victoria slammed her fist against the table; her face snarled in disgust. “For three days we sat waiting to hear from Mark Bailey. And now I find out that he’s sitting in a prison cell being interrogated?”

  Kekoa’s heart skipped a beat at that announcement. He now noticed the other two in the room. They were Henry and Rosalie, the two head guards of the children. Victoria shook her fists violently at them, her heavy cross around her neck swinging from side to side. Kekoa grimaced. The woman was a self–ordained minister and saw herself above the others, especially when it came to morality.

  “This shall be our downfall,” the deacon yelled.

  “Mark is as faithful as anyone, and devoted to our divine mission. He will not betray our good work with these kids,” Rosalie murmured slightly above a whisper, but Kekoa heard every word.

  A pause lingered between the three in the cabin, so Henry quoted a passage from the bible, “In the strength of Divine grace their souls shall ascend above the world.”

  Victoria took a deep breath and crossed the room; her hands clasped in prayer. “My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.” She looked up towards the ceiling as if waiting for a sign.

  After a moment, Victoria glared at Henry. “You were with him when you liberated the new girl. What happened?”

  Kekoa thought back to their most recent trip. He had been forced to go with Mark and Henry to pick up Stephen. Tiffany was, well, an extra bonus on the trip. He didn’t want to help with the captures, but with their threat of killing the children that remained at the camp, Kekoa was quite the dutiful servant on these outings. Kekoa had not even questioned Mark’s disappearance at the time. But now his absence made sense. Mark had been captured by the police. Kekoa felt a small surge of hope spring forth in his heart. Maybe the police could rescue them now.

  Henry swallowed hard and squirmed as he answered Deacon Victoria’s question. “Once we learned of the girl’s existence, the plan was to take her while the family slept. But, we had an opportunity to get the girl while she played at a nearby park. We thought her mother was there, but it was only a babysitter. I took the child, and Mark went back that night to kill the parents. The police were all over the house, so I don’t know what he had planned to do.”

  “Idiot!” Victoria spat. “It isn’t enough to save the child. God has told me to eradicate the scourge of these beings from the planet. It i
s what God has dictated, and what we shall do. You went against God’s wishes and this is the penance we must pay.” After a long silence, she finally announced, “We will have faith in our brother Mark. The Lord will give him strength. For now, we will halt operations. Relocate the children. The Lord’s will shall be done.”

  Kekoa’s jaw hit the ground. The phrase ‘relocate the children’ repeated in his head. It was an opportunity, and his big break. He could save them all.

  Henry glanced over to Rosalie while Victoria paced the room. “Is there a sign of where we should go? What should we do?”

  Victoria looked up to the ceiling, holding out her hands.

  “We can move them to another abandoned summer camp. I know of one. The place is smaller, but the kids all stay in two cabins anyway. We can drug them and move them out in the middle of the night,” Rosalie offered.

  “We can bring our supplies over. The move would take a day or two,” Henry chimed in.

  Victoria continued looking at the ceiling and quoted Jude 1:10. “Yet these men speak abusively against whatever they do not understand, and what things they do understand by instinct, like unreasoning animals—these are the very things that destroy them.” She shook her head. “A new location is needed.”

  “Yes, Deacon Victoria,” Rosalie said.

  “We have two new souls to save, so we will focus on their healing. We will move to a new location when the Lord gives me a sign, but we must be prepared for when that day comes.” She took a deep breath. “Keep watch over the boy Kekoa. He’s approaching the age where the Devil may take him,” Victoria glared over at Henry, a finger up in warning. “Tell me at once if you catch anything out of the ordinary.”

  It wasn’t exactly a newsflash to Kekoa. Henry had become almost a second skin to him already. Henry nodded, nearly bowing. “Of course, Deacon Victoria. He is still a bit young. Others before did not succumb to the evils until their early to mid–twenties. Nonetheless, I’ve been personally seeing to him these last few weeks, not that I expect any change yet.”