Venom of the Gods

by Sebastian Chase

  "Why is someone following you?" he asked.

  "What do you mean?" Thoughts were spinning.

  "Part of the message I didn't have time to write down was that this Andre has been keeping an eye on you. Why? Who is he?"

  "Someone that I have not seen in a very long time. If it's not a trick…I think it's my son."

  "Hey, that's cool. He's not mad at you for being locked up?"

  "I don't think so." Not having seen him for over sixty years, I wasn't sure what Andre felt. With this newfound information though, and feeling secure that Karen had smuggled Lori out of school safely, I decided that it was time to leave.

  "You're lucky if he's not."

  "How long you been in?" I asked.

  "Six years for second-degree murder, with another four to go if I behave."

  "Stop trying to stab people then."

  "I can't always think straight anymore."

  "It's the disease. Are you getting treatment?"

  "For chronic hep-C, there's not much they can do but give me some pills that make me sick as a dog. Not sure what's worse, the cure or the disease. So what are you in for, really?"

  "They suspect I killed my boss."

  "Nice. Did ya?"

  "No, his wife got to him first. They're just using it as an excuse to keep me locked up."

  "Why?"

  Ignoring him for a second, I stared at the phone number and memorized it. Confident that I had it down, I stood and walked to the filthy toilet, dropped the paper in, and flushed. If Samael knew of my son, he'd have yet another hook to catch me with.

  "So I don't interfere with their conquest of the world," I said, turning to my new cellmate.

  "You're funny. You got some secret information or something? I know! You're a CIA spy, right?" he joked.

  "Actually, I’m a vampire."

  "Now that is some funny shit!" he hollered.

  "And before I leave, I'd like to help you."

  "What, you gonna turn into a bat and fly through the bars?"

  "I can cure your disease." I walked until I stood directly in front of him.

  "Get the fuck out of here. You're getting a little freaky, man. Hey, are you a fag? I don't get into that shit. Hell no. Sick."

  I dropped my fangs, morphing into my immortal form. It took him a few seconds to register the change, and then he yelled. I imagined the guards in their lounge watching the video surveillance, smiling and pulling their chairs forward in anticipation of a good fight. He backed up against the wall, wildly searching for a place to escape, but there was none. I stepped in close.

  "I'm not going to hurt you," I whispered.

  He tried to hit me. I grabbed his wrist with one hand, held it tight, and took his hair with my other hand, forcing his head sideways. Darting my mouth forward, I punctured his neck and deposited venom. He relaxed in my arms.

  "This is nice," he said, as I took the opportunity to withdraw a liter of blood from him. I pulled out and gently sat him on the floor. His head rolled around, smiling at the prison walls as if he was on a beautiful tropical island surrounded by lovely nymphs.

  "The side effects will wear off soon and you will be healed," I said. "Your son, did he survive the attack by the man?"

  "Yeah, he was mad at me, but now he visits every Saturday." He grinned.

  "Glad to hear it. Stay out of trouble and get out early for him."

  "Sure. Damn, this feels good."

  I stood and walked to the door, grabbed a firm hold on a bar and ripped sideways. The locking mechanism didn't give, but the bars did. My hand sliced through seven of them before I stopped. I widened the halved bars and stepped out of the cell. An alarm went off. The guards watching the video in their lounge probably had to pick themselves off the floor before sounding it.

  Twenty feet up were sniper's nests, and above that, the ceiling. I leaped for it as several bullets ricocheted off me. I passed close by one sniper, his mouth hung agape as he stared at me, the rifle now silent in his stunned grip. The roof was metal and concrete that tore at my jumpsuit, but posed no problem for my body.

  Once in the open air, I turned south and headed for my destination, which was about five miles away. I flew low and fast, minimizing potential witnesses, but forced to suffer the occasional bug-on-the-windshield effect. No wonder superheroes usually wear masks or helmets, I thought, wiping something thick and slimy from my cheek.

  A few minutes later, I came to ground in a deserted lot behind a small, shady-looking motel. I ran for the side of the low-slung building, slowed, and changed my appearance back to human. Casually, I sauntered to the front and proceeded towards the room Agent Blackwell had reserved after our trip to Wal-Mart on the way to the prison.

  In the parking lot, a small group of tattooed, red-bandana-wearing men took a break from talking up a short-skirted Latina, and eyed me suspiciously, most likely familiar with my orange attire, even though much of it was now shredded. Not having the time for conflict, I looked away and sped up my pace.

  Making it to my room unchallenged, I applied gentle pressure to the doorknob, and felt the lock snap within. I slipped inside, eased the door shut, and then raced to the nightstand and grabbed the throwaway phone we purchased earlier. After waiting a frustratingly slow minute for it to boot up, I pressed the preprogrammed button that would call Karen's own prepaid phone.

  "Hello?" she answered on the first ring.

  "Karen, it's Mike. Are you okay?"

  "Mike! God, am I glad to hear your voice!"

  "How are you? How is Lori taking this?"

  "Umm, Mike, she wasn't at the school or at home. We checked. I'm afraid we don't know where she is. Do you have any ideas?" I stood there in silence as fearful anguish exploded through my being.

  Chapter 20

  "Mike? Are you still there?" Karen asked.

  "Yes. Sorry." My mind moved at a million miles-per-hour. "In prison I met the SAC and overheard him say that they couldn't find Lori either."

  "Do you think she took off on her own?"

  "She wouldn't get far if she did. I have an idea. Do you have access to a computer?"

  "Actually, I'm sitting in front of one."

  "Really? You were supposed to leave town. Where are you?"

  "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

  "Try me."

  "The Navy base at Little Creek, Virginia. It seems that Rick, Agent Blackwell, was a SEAL before joining the FBI, and still has a lot of connections."

  "Samael's people might be able to track you there."

  "Only a few of Rick's friends know we're here, and the secretary of defense has gotten involved. Maybe even the president. You need to come here so they can talk to you about Samael. It's serious, Mike. They're saying that if Samael gets control of Russian nukes, the U.S. will launch a preemptive strike."

  "They can't do that! That is exactly what he would want. Nukes can't hurt him, Karen, but Russia will be wiped out, courtesy of the U.S."

  "What do we do?"

  "For now, tell them to sit on it until I get there. First though, I need you to search for people with the last name of Reilly near my daughter's school."

  "You think she went with that boy? Good idea. Hold on a sec."

  While I waited, I changed into clothes that we had purchased with the phones, and retrieved some cash Karen had loaned me from the nightstand drawer. I also tried to formulate a plan, but with so many unknowns, it was sketchy at best. Ultimately, it ended up sounding simple in design, but I knew the execution of it wouldn't be. Get Lori, get to Little Creek, which was several hours away, and then get to Russia. No problem, I thought sarcastically.

  "We're in luck," her voice came from the speakerphone. "There's only two Reilly's listed in the school's zip code. One couple is in their sixties, but the age on the other is fortyish. My guess is they would have a teen boy."

  "You're an angel."

  "I know. Got a pen for the address?"

  "Just tell me. I have a very good memory." S
he recited the address and, after wishes of luck intermingled with hints of deeper feelings, we hung up. What would it be like to live a normal life together? Instead of the current insanity, it would be so nice to just hold her while watching a movie, and then crawl our way into bed…together. Such simplicity is too often taken for granted.

  As I pocketed the cell phone, the sound of a woman in hysterics caught my ears. I peered out the curtains and saw the attractive Hispanic woman being blocked from getting in her car by the group of men. There were four of them, and they circled her like sharks as she belted out a litany of Spanish. One grabbed her from behind, wrapping his powerful arms around hers, and lifted her off the ground. She tried to kick the hombre in front of her, but instead he grabbed her by the ankles. The two men started hauling her towards the motel. I shook my head in dismay and walked to the door.

  Just as I exited, I saw the last guy enter a room several down from mine. He slammed the door behind him, and I heard her screams and cries for help grow muffled. I did not have time for this, but I couldn't ignore it either. I rushed to their door and gave it a swift kick. The last man in was still standing next to it as the door bashed him from behind, sending him flying across the room. The woman lay on the bed looking defeated, her shirt ripped off, her skirt yanked down. The remaining three men were already in the process of stripping down, but now they stopped and stared at me.

  "Let the woman go, and you won't get hurt," I offered. They chose instead to button up their pants and pull out switchblades.

  "Run, and you live, pendejo," the leader said.

  My eyes turned yellow, and before surprise could even register on their faces, all of the arms holding knives were broken. The blades dropped onto the cheap carpet, and the three of them ran out of the room screaming in pain. The fourth, assaulted by the door, still lay unconscious near the bathroom. I appeared human again as I went to the girl, who looked very uncertain about what happened.

  "Are you okay?" I asked, pulling the edge of the blanket up and covering her.

  "Yes. Thank you," she said with a heavy accent.

  "You shouldn't come to a place like this."

  "My brother stays here, but he was not home."

  "He should move." An idea occurred to me that would draw less attention than flying across the sky. "I have sort of an emergency myself. Can you give me a ride? I can give you some gas money."

  "For the man who saved me, yes." I retrieved a shirt abandoned by one of the would-be assailants, and turned my back while she changed.

  Outside, the bad guys were nowhere in sight when we walked to her rundown Plymouth Duster. They were probably on their way to the emergency room, plotting revenge the entire ride. I took the keys from her and climbed into the driver's seat. The smell of ancient vinyl and plastic accosted me, reminding me of a better time years ago. She slid onto the bench seat next to me, and I cranked the old car up. It purred to life with a surprisingly strong sound.

  "My brother is a mechanic," she said, seeing me smile. "It might look like shit, but it goes."

  "Nice." I slipped the Duster into gear and began the drive to my old neighborhood.

  "Are you married?" she asked.

  "Was."

  "She left you?"

  "I left her. She cheated."

  "Oh, I'm sorry." There were a few minutes of tense silence, and then she said, "Would you like to have dinner some time?" I nearly swerved off the road, but recovered and looked at her. She was blushing, and I could tell this was a new experience for her.

  "In all of my years, and there have been quite a few, I have never had a woman ask me out. I'm flattered."

  "There's something about you. I'm sorry, but I just couldn't help myself."

  "I'm very tempted to say yes, but if I did, then I would by lying to you. I'm sort of seeing someone." Since when were Karen and I an official thing? Her face dropped in disappointment mixed with a touch of embarrassment, but it didn't take long for her to pick it back up.

  "You're honest, too. I will give you my number and if it doesn't work out, you call?"

  "Absolutely."

  Nothing makes for better awkward silence than driving around with a person you just rejected. I had general directions from Karen, but without a GPS, it took me until dusk to find the cul-de-sac street. I instantly identified the house by the red Mustang parked in the driveway. I pulled over to the curb, but left the car running.

  "Could you wait for a minute? I have to see if someone is here," I said.

  "Your girlfriend?"

  "No, my daughter." She brightened.

  "Sure."

  I got out and walked quickly to the door of the newer looking colonial-style home. After ringing the doorbell, I waited anxiously. Just as I went to ring it a second time, the door opened and a stocky looking teenage boy looked at me with surprise.

  "Mr. Spencer?"

  "Yes. Shane?"

  "Yeah." He turned his head and yelled, "It's okay, Lori. It's your dad." My heart jumped in happiness. Lori came running out of a back room, brushed past Shane, and jumped into my arms.

  "Dad!" she cried. She hugged me tight, sobbing softly against my neck.

  "Are you all right?" I asked. She withdrew a little.

  "Yes. Someone followed me to school, and then I saw them waiting in the parking lot. I knew it couldn't be a good thing, so Shane helped me sneak out."

  "You did good, baby." I looked at Shane. "Thank you."

  "No problem, sir."

  "I need to go tell the lady who gave me a ride that she can go. I'll be right back." Lori released me and I walked back to the Plymouth. My new friend, Elena, now sat behind the steering wheel. I came up to the window and tapped on the glass. She opened the door and got out with a sheepish smile.

  "The window is broke," she said.

  "You should have your brother look at that." I pulled out the small wad of money Karen had given me. "Will twenty cover gas?"

  "You saved my life. Taking your money would be wrong. Consider it a favor from a friend." She handed me a small piece of paper. Unfolding it, I saw that it was her number. "A good friend."

  Out of nowhere, she leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on my lips. From the house, I heard Lori whisper, "Oh my God!" I pulled back, but not after indulging in the feel of her for too long, grateful that I was incapable of blushing.

  "Just something to help you remember me by. I hope you call," she said. Speechless, I watched her get back in the car and drive away.

  "What was that, Dad?" Lori exclaimed, running into the street where I was still standing dumbstruck.

  "I don't know," I stuttered, pocketing the money along with Elena's number. "I think she was trying to seduce me!"

  "Now you know how women feel. Karen's gonna be pissed."

  "Don't tell her. I told Maria that I was seeing someone, but it was like she didn't care."

  "Yep, exactly what women have to deal with." She laughed. "Don't worry. Your secret is safe with me, for a small increase in allowance. C'mon. I'll officially introduce you to Shane." She took my hand and led me to the house.

  "Can I get you something to drink?" the boy asked when we entered.

  "You should never ask him that," Lori said. Shane looked confused.

  "No thanks," I replied, giving Lori the evil eye. "Are your parents home?"

  "No. I'm house sitting. They went to Bermuda for their twentieth anniversary."

  "We might have to borrow your car," I said. He instantly adopted an incredulous look.

  "If you need a ride, I can drive you, but I can't just give up my 'Stang."

  "We'll figure this out," I said, turning to Lori. "I need to call Karen. She's real worried." I withdrew the cell phone and again Karen answered on the first ring.

  "Is Lori there?" she asked anxiously.

  "Yep."

  "Thank God."

  "We just have to figure out how to get to you." A loud, purring-like sound caused me to pause. "Hold on for a sec." I walked to the window
, followed by the teens, and pulled the curtain aside.

  "Holy shit! It's a helicopter!" Shane exclaimed.

  "It looks like the problem is solved," I said into the phone, but there was no reply. "Karen? Are you there?" No answer. I looked at the phone's screen and saw the call had ended and that there was now no signal available. You get what you pay for, I thought as I pocketed it.

  In the dead-end circle at the end of the street rested a large black helicopter, its rotor rotating rapidly, but sounding different from the usual helicopter's blades. It sounded muffled to the point of almost being considered quiet.

  "I think that's a Blackhawk. I saw it in a movie," Shane said in awe. The helicopter's side door slid open and two figures emerged wearing black SWAT-like outfits.

  "It's not just any Blackhawk," I said. "It has been modified for stealth. I heard SEAL teams use them sometimes."

  "Dad! They're coming this way!"

  "It's okay. They're here to give us a ride…I hope. Say your goodbyes to Shane." I went to the door and pulled it open just as the two warriors arrived.

  "Michael Spencer?" the lead asked, while his teammate kept watch on the street. Several nearby doors opened, filled with curious neighbors staring in bewilderment at the scene.

  "Yes."

  "We're to transport you and your daughter to Little Creek, on orders from the president. Please, sir, we must hurry."

  "Come on, Lori," I said, turning around in time to see my daughter kissing Shane. "Hey!" I yelled. They separated, red faced.

  "You said to say goodbye," Lori muttered.

  "Not making moves on you, my ass. Get in the chopper, young lady!" I raised a finger to Shane. "And you…" My anger dissolved. "Thank you for saving my daughter today." He smiled with relief.

  The soldiers escorted us to the Blackhawk, and quickly buckled us into removable seats secured to attachments overhead and below. Before the SEALs even sat down, the bird took off with a rapid surge forward and up that caused Lori to grimace. The lead soldier sat down next to me and strapped himself in.

  "They say you have superpowers. True?" he asked.

  "I can take care of myself."

  "Have you heard the latest?"

  "Russia is falling?"