Sanguine Series (Book 1): The Fall

by Chris Laughton

  He’d slipped into her bedroom after the father had given her perhaps a bit too much cachaça to help her sleep. Alexander drank from her almost to the point of killing her, so she’d be too weak to cry out for help. He’d crept to the other two bedrooms, shaking off the alcohol now in his system from her blood. There was no way to feed on both her parents: the struggles of one would undoubtedly wake the other, and that one could alert neighbors, so he’d snapped the father’s neck, before drinking the mother dry. He’d had such an appetite in those days, and Maya’s two young brothers turned out to be quite the delicacy. He’d been right that he’d drink them so quickly that they’d both be dead before either thought to scream.

  When it was done, and he’d killed her entire family, he returned to her room. She’d come to, but had barely managed to prop herself up in bed. Her eyes were glossy, and had trouble staying focused on Alexander as he moved about her room, the blood loss pushing her to the point of unconsciousness. However, the tears running down her face revealed that she knew what was transpiring. He had been patient, watching her for a few moments before sitting on the side of her bed and staring at the wall. He was nervous. He had instincts telling him how to turn her now, but there was no guarantee it would work.

  He heard a single, raspy word escape her lips: “Why?” she asked him.

  “Because a gift like yours is too valuable to waste on these cattle.”

  ∆ ∆ ∆

  Alexander had always blamed his timing for why she came out of the turning so badly, but the truth was, he didn’t know. Perhaps it was her gift that meant the transformation didn’t quite take. Perhaps it was that she had been drinking. Perhaps this happened occasionally, and Alexander just drew the short straw on his first attempt at turning someone. Whatever the reason, her gift had been almost ruined. After the transformation, her ability to dispense advice had been twisted into her visions: much less lucid, but potentially far more valuable if she’d let them be. Wasn’t that the way with all things vampire? To be far stronger than their human selves, yet weaker in one specific area. For all vampires, sunlight became deadly; for Maya specifically, her foreknowledge became almost inscrutable.

  Alexander considered the thought for a moment before turning his mind back to the present. He’d always known Maya would take the first chance she had at getting away from him, so this was hardly surprising. As she had cried to her family that night, she’d been hoping to escape him, and perhaps now, a little over thirty years later, she finally had.

  “Anything to report on finding that cabin?” Alexander asked Kai.

  “No sir, although I did notice something I wanted to run past you,” Kai was obviously hesitant to speak to Alexander right now. His temper was legendary, and it was difficult for Kai to understand that Alexander wouldn’t be angry, as long as they still succeeded.

  “Go on,” Alexander tried to encourage him.

  “Well, it’s in Maya’s vision of the cabin,” Kai pulled them up on the monitors. It was odd that The Project had left the monitors intact. Then again, human stamina was so ridiculously limited, and Alexander surmised it had been one team doing all this damage to him, meaning they had to be exhausted. Kai had obviously forgotten his nervousness, and proved quite eager to share this. “In the image of the couple inside the cabin, we can see a key on the end table next to their couch. But there are no other keys on the ring!”

  Alexander was following him, though it was far from a sure thing. “You think the cabin is a rental,” he surmised.

  “Yes, and I know, it’s a risk. He could have remote start for his car, they could have smart locks at their homes, etc., etc. but the odds that whichever one of them owns the cabin wouldn’t have any other keys in their life? Has to be slim, right? Now look at this picture in the background.” Kai called Alexander’s attention to a framed picture hanging on the wall to the side in the monitor’s image. Because of the angle, it was difficult to make out. “We’ve seen Maya’s visions take text and turn it into images, but we’ve certainly never seen them turn pictures into text. She’s too into the visual, and her visions are like dreams. Text is rarely represented in dreams.”

  “So you think that’s text in the picture,” Alexander stated more than asked. He could see where Kai was coming from, but he wasn’t sure how it would be useful.

  “Could be rental policies,” Kai finally made his point. “Put up there so renters know what they can and can’t do with the place.”

  “Could be a motivational quote,” Alexander countered. “Could be Maya just didn’t give us what the picture is of.”

  “I agree, it’s a lot of circumstantial evidence, but you were asking for a way to narrow the search field.” Kai made a gesture towards the monitors as if to present his findings.

  “You’re right, I didn’t mean to dispute your theory, just playing devil’s advocate while I thought it through.” Kai was right though. The couple in the image was young, so just playing the odds, they weren’t in the stage of their life where a second home was feasible. Although granted, these days, that was a bit more of a wildcard. “Alright, I want you only checking rentals. If you’re right, I won’t forget it.”

  Kai smiled, obviously pleased with himself. “Yes sir.”

  “Oh, and one more thing. Tell Miranda I need to see her. At her place.”

  16

  Mason had laid out his plan in the entryway of Gwen’s apartment. He wasn’t sure what had possessed Gwen to tell the doorman to let him come up, since she so clearly disapproved of his presence, but it was too late to send him away without at least hearing him out now that he was at her door. Mason made quick work of introducing himself to Gwen with a quick ‘Hi, how are you?’ and jumped right into his idea.

  He had rented a cabin in the middle of nowhere for a week. He said he had vacation time to use and could just finish the proposal he was working on while they were up there, and postpone his next job. Gwen had been adamant that Rebekah was not going, but Mason knew Rebekah was the only one he had to convince. He had told her, “Look, you said the reason this will be hard is because you’re in the city you know so well. Maybe the answer isn’t to not go out, it’s to go even farther out, to the middle of nowhere.” He had seen in her eyes that the idea held appeal. It would’ve been hell to go through withdrawal surrounded by the same alleys and street corners that held just what you needed to make it stop.

  Gwen had seen that same look. “If you leave, you’re not coming back here. Seriously, Rebekah,” but she’d already lost the fight. The smile flickered on Rebekah’s face for just a second before she ran back to the guest room and started packing. Gwen followed her, still hopelessly believing she could talk Rebekah out of it. “Rebekah, please. You have to take this seriously. Jetting off on some spur-of-the-moment vacation is not what you need right now. This is going to be hard, and there’s no running from it; no magic bullet to solve it and make it easy.” Mason felt a twinge of guilt at causing this argument between the two sisters, but he really believed his plan would help Rebekah.

  Rebekah emerged, seeming like she didn’t notice Gwen still attached to her hip and told Mason, “Let’s go.” Mason took the bag from her and turned for the door.

  Gwen stood in the hallway with her arms crossed, looking serious as a heart attack. “I mean it Rebekah. If you leave, don’t come back.”

  They were outside the apartment now and Rebekah had turned back around to close the door. “You said that already,” was all she told her sister as she pulled the door closed.

  ∆ ∆ ∆

  As they pulled up to the cabin, Mason brought his car to a stop and look over at Rebekah. He’d been able to tell that Rebekah was getting more uncomfortable on the drive up, but the scenery and now the view of the cabin had momentarily distracted her.

  “This place is beautiful,” Rebekah was in shock. It was weird how the same wintry weather that made the city unbearable just made it more picturesque in nature. It was a gorgeous one-story cabin with a str
eam, frozen now, behind it. There was a light snow still falling to add to what was already on the ground. It had a tranquility Rebekah had never known. If they hadn’t passed an armed food convoy headed into Seattle just before they turned onto the cabin’s driveway, it would have been easy to believe they’d gone back in time to before The Fall. The guns mounted on the tops of the trailers that the convoy used to defend itself from nomads hadn’t been manned when they drove past though, so they were still in a relatively safe area. Comforting, since they’d be at the cabin for a week with nobody but the two of them for protection.

  Mason pulled the car to a stop and shut off the ignition. “Well, we’re here,” he said, and then just sat for a moment, taking in the view like Rebekah was. “I’m going to bring your stuff inside.” He went to the back of the car, opened the trunk, and grabbed the one bag Rebekah had brought. She didn’t have much in the way of material things to begin with, and a hastily planned trip certainly didn’t let her pack much. She’d brought pretty much all the clothes she had at her sister’s, and they’d bought her some toiletries on the way up here. As he walked past the passenger side of the car towards the cabin, he looked back at her and said, “Well come on, we didn’t rent it just to look at it.”

  “Wait, what about your things?” she asked, turning around in the car and seeing the trunk was already closed and there was nothing in the back seat.

  “Oh, I dropped them off when I rented the place. Turned the water and heat back on, so it should be a little more comfortable when we get in there.”

  She’d exited the car now and was moving to catch up with him. “Wow! Pretty confident I was going to agree to come with you, weren’t you?”

  Mason smiled. “Honestly, I thought I’d have to convince you both,” he said, dodging the question. “I had a whole monologue planned out to try to talk your sister into letting me past the doorman, but she just buzzed me up. Still, I don’t think she likes me much,” he said, intentionally understating the situation.

  “I think part of her didn’t think you were real. She wanted to see you in person. And as for not liking you, forget it. If I always did what my sister wanted, I wouldn’t be in this mess, but now I think she’s afraid you might actually help me get my act together. It’s nice having moral superiority. Tough to give up.”

  “That makes sense. I’m super charming, so I knew it wasn’t me.” Mason grinned, but Rebekah was too captivated by the cabin to acknowledge his joke. They were in front of the door now and as Mason fished in his pocket for the key, Rebekah couldn’t wait. Mason unlocked and opened the door… and Rebekah was hit with the most horrid smell she’d ever experienced.

  “Oh my God, what is that?”

  “Oh man, the place reeked a little like skunk when I was up here last time, but I just thought the smell was trapped in the house, so I cracked a few windows and didn’t think much of it. But yeah, wow, that is much stronger now.” In truth, Mason’s sense of smell meant it was always tough for him to know what only he could smell. If Rebekah could too, the skunk scent must be a real problem. He wished he hadn’t been in such a damn hurry when he’d first gotten here. If he’d taken the time to locate the smell, he could’ve handled it before he went back to the city to pick up Rebekah. He put the bags down and surveyed the scene. “OK, well you can wait in the car if you want, and I’ll try to figure out how to get rid of the smell.”

  “Of course not. I can help. It’s the least I can do.” She paused, before adding, “But if I actually see a skunk, I will scream and run back to the car, so maybe leave it unlocked.”

  “Fair enough,” Mason said as he dropped the cabin key onto the nearest table to reach into his pocket and click the unlock button on his key fob. Rebekah looked around and even through the stench, couldn’t help but notice how great the place was. Mason made a show of searching around, even though he knew the smell was coming from the storm cellar doors. Now that the furnace was going, and it had warmed up, it was easier to pinpoint. The whole cabin had originally been much older, but they’d added onto it over the years, eventually bringing the storm cellar doors inside. Then decades later, the entire cabin had been renovated and all felt like the same style so you couldn’t tell additions had been made. Overall, it just made the storm cellar doors feel like an odd design choice. When he was convinced he’d searched for long enough that it wouldn’t seem odd he’d identified the source, he went to cellar doors, and yelled, “I think it’s stronger over here.”

  Rebekah rounded the corner and saw what he was looking at. “Honestly, it’s pretty strong everywhere.”

  Mason pulled back the cellar doors and immediately closed them again, staring blankly at the wall in front of him.

  Rebekah was worried. “What? What is it?”

  “We have a problem,” was all he replied. “There is just… the biggest skunk ever down there. I mean honestly, the thing is the size of a Doberman.” He re-opened the doors and this time Rebekah came over to look. She thought her nose would be getting used to the smell by now, but it wasn’t. It was even more overpowering now that she could see the skunk, which wasn’t moving.

  “Wait, do you think it’s…”

  “I have no idea.” In truth, he did. It was dead. The smell of death was mixed in with the skunk odor, but Mason knew it was too subtle for Rebekah to tell. He picked up a pebble from the first step of the stairs leading down into the cellar and threw it at the skunk. Unsurprisingly, it didn’t move. “Well the only way we’re getting rid of the smell is to get rid of the skunk.” He closed the cellar doors again, and went searching. There was a covered area against the cabin where firewood for the wood stove was stored. There, he found a shovel and under the sink in the kitchen he found a large trash bag. Returning to the cellar doors, where Rebekah still stood, he held up the two objects. “Well, which do you want?” She gave him a blank look. “Scoop or bag,” he clarified.

  “Ewww. Bag, I guess,” she reluctantly agreed. Taking the bag from his hand, they descended the stairs. Mason jumped over the skunk’s body to land in the cellar and Rebekah just climbed off the edge of the steps before she reached the bottom.

  “Alright, here’s the plan,” Mason spelled out. “You hold the bag open for me to scoop it into. Once we’ve got it bagged, I’ll take the bag from you and run it outside, and I don’t know, bury it or something.”

  “Alright, let’s do this.” She sounded much readier than she actually was. She crouched down, and held open the bag, turning her head, closing her eyes and making a face.

  Mason put the shovel on the ground and slid it forward, but when he got to the skunk, it stopped. The thing was frozen to the ground. He pulled the shovel away a bit, put one foot on the back of it and slid it quickly forward. When the pointed end of the shovel hit the skunk, it dislodged it from the floor, but it also split open the skunk’s body and allowed a disgusting black sludge to start oozing out. “Oh shit, emergency! Code red!” He hurriedly shoveled the thing into the bag, as little drops of the sludge dripped onto the cellar floor. As soon as the skunk was in the bag, Rebekah was screaming and heading up the stairs. “Wait, I said I’d take it,” Mason yelled, but she was already halfway up the stairs and he started running up after her. She took a wrong turn at the top and headed deeper into the cabin away from the door. The entire time she was doing this, Mason watched as the black sludge dripped from an apparent hole in the corner of the trash bag, leaving a trail through the cabin everywhere Rebekah ran, still screaming, trying to find the door and get outside.

  Mason finally intercepted her, took the bag from her, got to the door and flung the bag far into the woods. He closed the door and turned to face Rebekah. They were both catching their breath, Mason just doing it theatrically of course, but Rebekah started laughing, and it made Mason laugh too. This was not how Mason had pictured this week starting.

  They’d done their best to clean up the black sludge so the place wouldn’t smell like skunk for the entire week, but Mason hoped the old couple
who rented the place to him would mop it before renting it again. When they were done, they both collapsed onto the couch in the main room and after a quick glance at each other, started laughing at the absurdity of it all.

  And that was exactly what Maya had pictured.

  17

  Trevor was marveling at how stark the difference was. Where Maya had put him at ease when he had found her in her cell at Alexander’s compound, now just watching her on the security monitors gave Trevor the creeps. Maya had previously explained to them that she basically had a split personality, a ruthless sadist without conscience who would enjoy nothing more than killing and eating her way out of this compound. At Maya’s suggestion, they had restrained her in her room, chaining her to the wall that had a fixture for that very purpose, a relic from when it had been a true interrogation room. She stood now, hands behind her back, and glared straight ahead at the door, rocking slightly from side to side.

  “At what point do we just kill her?” asked Dr. Westfield, standing next to Trevor and looking at the monitor. Westfield was wearing his usual button up shirt with the top button undone and khakis. He never wore his lab coat over them anymore. Though The Project still referred to him as ‘Dr.’, he contributed very little to the research these days, having handed that off to Dr. Monroe years ago.

  Trevor studied the man’s face. There were definitely lines now that hadn’t been there a few months before, but it was tough to tell if he was finally showing the signs of aging that had been absent since Trevor had known him, or if this was from the stress of recent events. His hair was the same salt and pepper as usual, his eyes sharp as ever. Trevor had always assumed that if Westfield had actually started getting old, he’d have to wear his glasses again, after his experiment years ago had eliminated the need.