Blood Will Tell
Colleen S. Myers
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
About the Author
Acknowledgments
Copyright © 2018 Colleen S. Myers
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Interior Format by The Killion Group, Inc.
To my husband
Chapter One
Mendes House, Pittsburgh, 2019
Isabelle’s stomach twisted and attempted to crawl up her throat. A thick, nasty fluid flooded her mouth and she raced to the bathroom. She got there just in time. Her head hung over the toilet, her long dark hair spreading around the bowl, as she heaved and puked up her dinner from the night before.
Oh God, she’d never be able to look at spaghetti the same way again. It tasted so good going down and so bad coming back up. Plus, the noodles were remarkably whole.
Isa shuddered and spit into the toilet. Her nose and throat burned. A horrible taste coated her tongue. She tried not to swallow as she coughed and heave a bit more before sitting back.
Gross.
At least now that she puked, she felt better. Her stomach churned less, and though a film of sweat covered her, she was otherwise intact.
She got up gingerly and grabbed a Dixie cup from next to the sink. After filling it with water, she placed it against her forehead then took a small sip. Aww, better. She gargled and spit a few more times then leaned back against the wall.
Man, she didn’t want to be sick, especially today. She had a coding assignment to turn in at school that she’d been working on for weeks. The presentation was ready and waiting to go. Her first major science project in high school, and she wanted to shine just like her parents. If the new game application she designed didn't impress her computer science teacher, she would eat her shorts.
Maybe it was just nerves?
She sat back on the floor across from the toilet relaxing.
The scent of bleach drifted to her and her belly churned.
Nope, not nerves.
Her stomach emptied itself again. Once, twice. Dang it. How much could a person vomit? This blew. Literally blew.
She moaned as she leaned back against the wall. The bathroom tiles gleamed at her. Too bright and white in the early morning hours. Her eyes watered. Her body ached. This sucked.
Maybe her dad hadn’t left for work yet. She could call him for help, or she could go back to bed.
Both of those options would take too much effort. She remained sitting on the floor.
A door slammed.
She stood and staggered toward the noise. Mistake. Her stomach twisted again, and she ended up bent over the bowl just as her mother walked in.
Rosa's black hair—a match for her own tresses—fell from her ponytail, and limp strands framed her face. Her eyes were bright, but her hands shook. Dark stains were smeared near the pocket of her navy-blue scrub shirt.
“You okay there, Isa boo?” Rosa asked.
“Yeah.” Isa sighed and flopped back against the wall. “My stomach hurts and I puked.” Tears threatened to fall but Isa choked them back. She hated being sick.
“Aww, poor baby, give me a second to change and we’ll make you something. You want to stay home?”
“I want to go to school because I have that project to turn in, remember? But when I move, it hurts. I don’t think I can go.”
Rosa nodded and helped her stand. “That was the code you were working on for that digging game app you developed, right?”
“Yes,” Isa said.
They took small steps toward her room. Her shell pink walls and frilly canopy embarrassed her now that she was older. She was twelve, dang it, she wasn't a kid anymore. Sometime soon, she’d have to talk to them about redecorating her room. Not today, though. Today, she had to sleep and get over whatever she’d caught.
She crawled into bed.
Her mom tugged the fluffy blanket up to her chin. “Okay Isa, sleep. We can talk to your teacher about your project tomorrow. He’ll understand.”
Her mother had not met her instructor if she thought that was true. Something niggled at Isa. “You okay, Mom?”
“Yes, why do you ask?” She tucked the blankets around Isa's sides.
“Your hands are shaking.”
Rosa kept her eyes down and tittered; the fake chuckle filled the room and confused Isa. “I'm fine.” She tucked Isa in tight. “You need to go to sleep. Things will be better when you wake up. You'll see.”
But things were definitely not better.
When Isabelle woke, noon had come and gone and her stomach growled. That was a good thing. She toddled to the kitchen to get some food. Toast maybe, something bland. Or even just water. Her mouth was dry.
She passed the living room as an alert flashed across the screen. The volume was down on the TV, but she slowed to watch, the words catching her eye.
UNKNOWN CONTAGION: STAY IN YOUR HOMES.
What? Her stomach rolled, this time in fear. Isabelle bolted for her mother’s room.
“Mom. Mom, get up!”
She bounced onto Rosa’s mattress and shook her awake.
Her mother groaned and rolled over with a yawn, still in her work scrubs. “What is it, Isa? I was sleeping. You know Momma needs to rest after work.”
“Emergency Broadcast thing, Mom. Some contagion. Do you think I have it?”
Rosa sat straight up. “What? Don’t be silly. Let me see.”
They both scrambled off the bed and hurried to the living room. Isa grabbed the remote and turned up the volume. Meep, meep, meep blared in a shrill tone followed by a message.
This is not a test.
There has been a national emergency declared. A contagion causing mass casualties is being reported in Fayette and Allegheny County and worldwide. FEMA has been activated but response times are slow. Recommendations are for citizens to stay in their homes and await further instructions.
Again, this is not a test.
The message repeated twice then the screen reverted back to the local news.
Huh.
“We live in Allegheny county, right, Mom? Are we at risk?”
Her mother grabbed her arm and tugged her back toward her room.
“Get your stuff, Isa. We have to go.” Rosa’s voice quavered but her hands remained firm as she guided Isa to the back of the house.
“Go where? The alert said to stay in our houses.” Her mother’s urgency caused her throat to tighten. What was going on?
“We need to get out of the city. I don't like this.” Rosa cast worried glances from side to side, as if the disease would jump out and get them.
“Where will we go?”
Rosa shoved her into her room. “A friend’s house. Get out of your pajamas and pack a few things. Hurry.”
“What abo
ut Dad?” Isabelle changed into jeans and a bright pink t-shirt, then threw some clothes into a canvas bag.
“I’ll call him on the way. Come on, Isa. Hurry.”
Rosa exited her own room in a white tank top and flannel shirt, rolling a suitcase behind her.
“Let’s go.”
Rosa picked up her purse as they headed for the car.
It seemed unnaturally dark in their neighborhood when they stepped outside into their cookie cutter cul-de-sac in Moon Township. No cars on the road. No buses picking students up or dropping them off.
What time was it, anyway? From the sun’s position, a little past noon, but the gloom made it seem later. A light breeze blew a lock of hair back in her mouth. A car alarm blared down the street somewhere.
This wasn’t normal.
Isa took another step and saw the neighbor, Mr. Jones, lying in his front yard in his boxers. Given it was about sixty degrees out, that seemed odd. Puke decorated the grass next to his prone form. He looked like he’d been clawing along the ground. Dirt caked his fingers.
Oh God.
“Mom?” Isa pointed at the body. Her fingers shook, but the rest of her was paralyzed. What the heck was going on?
Rosa locked the door of the house behind them and turned to where she was pointing. Her shoulders straightened. “Stay here, baby.”
Rosa ran and crouched next to him. She rolled him over and checked his pulse.
Isa didn’t see his chest moving. Oh God, what did that mean? He was such a sweet man. He always watched out for her after school when she walked home from the bus. Half the time, he would walk up and meet her, asking her about her day. Was he okay? Her stomach twisted into a pretzel and her skin tightened.
What was happening?
“Mom?” Isa’s breath shortened.
Rosa looked at her with wide fixed eyes, her voice flat. “Go. Get in the car. Now, Isa.”
“What’s wrong with Mr. Jones?” Isa fell to her knees, unmoving.
Rosa ran over and yanked her up, dragging her toward the driveway. “I said get in the car, Isa.”
“Mom.”
“Enough. Breathe Isa, calm down. We will get through this. Get in the car.” Rosa’s voice broke.
Isa scrambled into the Jeep’s passenger side and buckled in while her mother got behind the wheel. Before Rosa managed to start the car, three identical black SUVs pulled up and blocked the driveway.
“Stay here.” Rosa instructed before she stepped out to meet the suited man that exited the closest vehicle. He looked official with slicked back hair and a gun at his belt. FBI maybe?
Isa rolled down her window and stuck her head out to listen.
The suited man spoke first in a flat tone. “Dr. Mendes. There has been some sort of disaster. We need your help at the labs.”
“I can’t leave my daughter alone.”
“Bring her.”
Rosa glanced back at Isa nervously. “How bad is it?”
The man didn’t answer her question. “This is important. Did either of you eat or drink anything this morning?”
“Um no, not that I’m aware of. Isa wasn’t feeling well and I just got off work, so we both went to bed and got up in time to see the warnings. What’s going on?”
The man ignored her again and waved toward the vehicles. “Good. Follow us.”
“Where are we going?”
“Clan home.”
Huh, where?
Isa’s mother seemed to understand. She nodded and her shoulders relaxed. “All right, is this an official summons? Is my husband there?”
“Yes and yes. Get in your car and follow us.” He slid into the lead SUV.
Rosa hurried back. She buckled in with a click and then gripped the wheel, her hands tight, knuckles white.
“What is going on, Mom?”
Rosa turned to her and patted Isa’s hand. “I’m not sure, but we’re going somewhere safe.”
But nowhere was safe, not anymore.
Chapter Two
Romeran Clan Home 2025, Six years later
Isabelle ran as if the hounds of hell were after her, which in a way they were. She didn't know how they found out about her plans, but when three strange sinister-looking vampires came to her work and started asking for her, well, it was time to go.
A good thing she hadn't been at her desk. She'd just gotten back from her physical—why did she need a monthly pelvic anyway? —and saw them. They were hard to miss. All three men dressed in store-bought black suits, wearing dark shades and a bad attitude like a cloak around them. Definitely vamps. Her boss escorted them to her cubicle as she ducked into the back stairwell and out the rear of the building.
That’d been at four-thirty and it was nearly midnight now. She'd been running ever since, slowly making her way through the north end of Pittsburgh to the rendezvous point that she and Jack had arranged prior. Each step she took, she expected the vampires to tackle her and take her down. They were so much faster than humans. But so far, she’d managed to evade them, Lord knew how.
Her breath shuddered out as she approached Point State Park. Once a beautiful landmark of Pittsburgh, now the water bubbled with thick rust-colored liquid. Some light filtered from the road nearby along with the occasional noise of a passing car. Otherwise, it was still and lifeless, the area desecrated. She’d come here as a child with her parents a long time ago, before they formed the walled cities, before the Madness.
The docks— her destination—were only a few hundred meters away. They appeared abandoned as she approached, dark and bare. On any other night the docks were a hotbed of activity as people tried to retain any sense of normalcy. River trade was huge now that flying was rare. Trains as well. But not today.
After assuming control of all the surviving humans following the Madness, the vampire council eliminated all other holidays but this one..
Today was Memorial Day—they used an old name—August 26th, 2025. And today, all citizens were required to attend holiday festivities. Slang for mandatory awkward gathering with the vampires presiding over their flock, giving speeches.
The holiday was the perfect time to escape. The vampires would be busy maintaining order downtown in Oakland in the football stadium were the people were gathered to celebrate--nowhere near the Point.
She could get away and be free. The idea caused her breath to quicken.
The smell of the stagnant water added a splash more joy to her night as she snuck forward onto the planks. Her belly cramped, her stomach still hurting from the exam she underwent earlier. The doctor hadn't been gentle. He seemed to take pleasure in her pain.
Shuddering, she forced her mind away from that gruesome thought. The vamps cared for their livestock.
Humans in the cities paid a monthly tithe of blood to the city keeper's in exchange for food, continuing power, and life. The food was barely edible, but nutritious. Every citizen took vitamins, heavy in iron for obvious reasons. They put in ten-hour days. Ate as directed. Exercise was a mandatory requirement, two hours every day rain or shine. Monthly physicals maintained their health, if not their well-being.
Isabelle was tired of the harvests of the mindless surviving. She was kept in a pretty box, her life laid out before her, unchanging. All citizens worked jobs meant to enhance their home city. She worked in computers, helping to keep the aging software running. Jack worked in the power plant. Most of their friends had menial jobs to keep the city up and running and producing. What little leisure time they had was monitored by the vamps.
She was sick of all of it and soon she would have her freedom.
She and Jack had worked out a plan. They were going to flee the city. Find a place to hide and hole up. Live their life as they saw fit.
But where was he, damn it? Isabelle paced down to the end of the deserted pier.
A faint odor of fish and mold wafted toward her as she got closer. Her hair blew in the wind, boats drifted in their moors, and a few abandoned barrels stood at the end of the way. Count
less piers stretched out into the dank water.
Jack had arranged for them to get away on one of these ships. Which one, she didn't know. He hadn't shared that information with her. Lately, he hadn't shared much of anything with her. He was her husband, picked for her by the vamps for breeding purposes, but they hadn’t been close for years. She didn't know what price he'd paid to arrange this and she didn't care. He owed her.
She'd grown up with Jack. When the world ended, and the cities were made, her mother and she were forced into one of the tenements. Jack lived next door. He'd always been so carefree. She never understood how he could be so joyful under the circumstances. They hit it off at first, and given all women of reproductive age had to marry, her choice seemed clear. But she never knew him. That became evident over time.
She arrived at the docks and her footfalls echoed on the planks. This close to the water, the smell was overwhelming—rotting fish and decay—but it was also cooler with the breeze off the river. A small comfort on a muggy summer day. Nose wrinkling, she walked down to the end of the pier to lean against one of the barrels.
From here, the water looked so clean and peaceful, dark and reflective. The pollution evident during the day was hidden in the dark of night. Waves lapped at the pier as the water flowed by. The sound of the rushing waves was hypnotic. So much so, she didn't hear the steps until they were almost upon her.
She whirled. A man turned the corner, and she caught a glimpse of him approaching the end of the dock. Not someone she knew. Probably a guard. She darted behind the barrel closest to her.
While technically standing on the docks wasn't a crime, she would be punished for not attending the festivities. Plus, she didn't want to face any questions about what brought her to be there at night. The vamps would detain her, and she doubted she would enjoy the experience.
The man’s footsteps neared, and she curled up even tighter into herself. She could see his silhouette through a sliver of space between the barrels and ducked back farther.
All the guards in the city were vamps. Low level, of course. None of them over the age of one hundred or so. The older, more powerful vamps wouldn't risk themselves with security. That was what the walls and the lowers were for.
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