Vengeance in Blood (Book 3): Reborn

by Watson, Thomas A.

  “Not good,” Besseta whispered, looking back to Kenneth’s face. “You need to feed. You’re about to pass out, or worse,” Besseta warned.

  “I fed four times getting here,” Tiffany panted, plugging the machine in the wall. “His blood won’t upset me.”

  “There’s one in the corner, feed so you can help him,” Besseta whispered, caressing Kenneth’s head. “He had a seizure.”

  Looking behind her, Tiffany saw the other man lying beside a dead body. “I told you to feed after getting Kenneth to drink.”

  “He barely took two swallows before he started coughing,” Besseta explained to her. “I don’t need to feed, but you do.”

  Stomping over, Tiffany picked the man up and bit before he knew what was happening. When she was finished, she dropped the body beside the other one like another discarded wrapper and moved back to the bed. “Okay, you were right,” she admitted, unraveling wires from the machine on the nightstand. “I feel better.”

  Hearing Velcro rip, Besseta looked up as Tiffany wrapped something around Kenneth’s arm. “What is all that?” she asked.

  Not stopping, Tiffany put stickers on Kenneth’s chest. “When I started studying the virus, I read that one couldn’t understand virology unless one had become a doctor first, so I studied to become a doctor,” Tiffany explained, hooking wires up to the stickers. “I’m surprised you know what a seizure is.”

  “I’m not stupid. I’ve seen them before,” Besseta said, watching Tiffany wire Kenneth to the machine.

  Reaching back, Tiffany turned the machine on. “I know you’re not stupid, Besseta,” she said, walking over and grabbing the large yellow bag. Unzipping it, she started pulling stuff out. “I just didn’t think you would know. I didn’t, until I studied medicine. To me, it was always the shaking sickness.”

  Hearing the machine beep, Besseta looked over to see lines and blips appear on a screen. “So, can you guess why he seized?”

  Tiffany looked up with a grave face. “His brain isn’t getting enough oxygen.”

  Tears that she thought had run out, started pouring out as Besseta quietly whimpered, “Can you help him?”

  “I’m going to do my best,” Tiffany vowed, reaching down and ripping open packages. “I need a wire coat hanger.”

  A breeze filled the room and Besseta was standing beside Tiffany, holding a wire hanger. “Here,” she said as Tiffany held up a clear bag of fluid.

  Taking the hanger, Tiffany put the hook through a loop at the top of the bag and hung it up on the canopy. “Thank you,” she said and pulled up some clear tubing, jabbing the end into the clear bag.

  Besseta looked at the bag of fluid, reading: 0.9% Normal Saline. “Saltwater?” she asked.

  “Besseta,” Tiffany said, stopping and looking at her. “I’ve only read about this so please, hold your questions. I’m going from memory and believe it or not, from what I saw on TV. When I’m done, I’ll explain.”

  Stepping back, Besseta nodded and Tiffany went back to work. Hearing the machine vibrate, Besseta looked over at Kenneth and saw the thing on his arm blowing up and a thousand questions filled her mind, but she just moved back over to the bed. As she climbed back up, she watched the strap on Kenneth’s arm slowly deflate.

  When the strap was all deflated, the machine started dinging and Besseta looked over to see numbers over a slash, blinking. Glancing up at Tiffany, Besseta saw her running fluid through the clear tubing and clamp it off. Only then, did Tiffany look over at the machine.

  Seeing Tiffany let out a distraught sigh as she looked away from the machine, Besseta blinked the stream of tears out of her eyes. Tiffany reached down and pulled up a long plastic rod and a strap of rubber. Tying the rubber around Kenneth’s arm tight, Tiffany closed her eyes, recalling what she had read.

  “Oh,” she said, opening her eyes and digging into the stuff she had laid on the bed. Lifting up a small square of paper, Tiffany ripped it apart and Besseta smelled alcohol. Taking a pad from the paper, Tiffany wiped the bend in Kenneth’s arm.

  Besseta saw two veins bulging under Kenneth’s skin as Tiffany dropped the pad and picked up the plastic rod. It was then, Besseta noted one end was a needle with what looked like a straw over it. Not understanding what was going on, Besseta jumped when Tiffany poked the tip of the needle into the vein in Kenneth’s arm, and the clear rod had a flash of blood.

  “Hah,” Tiffany smiled and ignored the machine when it kept beeping behind her. Untying the rubber strap from Kenneth’s arm, Tiffany let it fall away as she pushed the straw into Kenneth’s arm and pulled out the needle at the same time. Hearing a click, Tiffany dropped the plastic part and grabbed the clear tubing, connecting to the straw in Kenneth’s arm.

  “Son of a bitch,” Tiffany growled, looking around.

  Jumping up, “What?” Besseta asked, feeling her heart beat out of her chest.

  “I can’t find the damn tape,” Tiffany spat, twisting her head and looking around. Besseta reached over and picked up a roll of clear tape. “Thank you,” Tiffany said, taking it and ripping off a piece, then taping down the straw in Kenneth’s arm.

  Unclamping the tube, Besseta watched the bag of fluid pour down the line into Kenneth’s arm. Turning back to Tiffany, Besseta watched her hit a button on the machine to make it shut up. “Jack and Jill, lay down,” Tiffany said, looking down at her feet.

  “I tried to let them on the bed so they could lay with Kenneth like Bonnie and Clyde, but they just jumped on him,” Besseta said, moving back up to Kenneth’s head as Tiffany went back to work.

  Letting out a sigh, “That’s good, Kenneth doesn’t need to be startled,” Tiffany said, walking over and opening the large ice chest. Reaching down, Tiffany pulled out a bag of blood.

  Knowing what that was, Besseta sat straight up. “Are you crazy? Stealing from a blood bank?” she asked. “We don’t need the rest of the government after us.”

  “I know it draws attention, but we don’t have the time or means to run out and grab people to feed on,” Tiffany explained, picking up a pair of scissors. “Besides, I killed the guard and burnt the building down before I left. No one will know.”

  For the first time since Kenneth had gotten hurt, Besseta gave a real smile. Tiffany had broken many of her taboos to help Kenneth. “Thank you.”

  Cutting an opening at the top of the bag of blood, “I swear, I’m doing everything I can, Besseta,” she said, looking up.

  “I know and thank you.”

  Tiffany held out the bag of blood, “Drink this,” she told Besseta. “I know it’s cold, but I need you to drink it now.”

  Reaching over, Besseta took the bag of blood and started drinking it, shivering at the cold fluid. As she drank, Tiffany moved over to Kenneth’s other arm, putting another straw in and connecting it to another bag of fluid.

  “Here,” Besseta said, holding up the empty bag.

  Turning back to the ice chest, “Bite your wrist and fill the bag back up,” Tiffany said, pulling another bag out. Not questioning anything Tiffany said, Besseta bit her wrist as Tiffany cut open the bag of blood in her hand and drained it. Then, she watched Tiffany bite her wrist and refill the bag.

  Taking the bag, Tiffany hung both up with the clear fluid and connected clear tubing to them. After priming the tubes with blood, Tiffany connected them to the tubes running into Kenneth’s arms. Besseta just stared in wonder, watching Tiffany work.

  “Besseta, go to the kitchen and get a large bowl. Bring it up here and fill it with warm water,” Tiffany instructed, turning to watch the machine. In seconds, Tiffany heard the faucet in the bathroom turn on and Besseta walked out carrying a large bowl. “Set it at the foot of the bed.”

  When Besseta set the bowl down, Tiffany opened the ice chest up and grabbed another bag of blood. Besseta sucked in a breath, seeing how many bags of blood were in the ice chest. “How many blood banks did you burn?” she asked, staring at the stacks of blood bags. “I’ve only seen a few dozen at a time in a bloo
d bank.”

  “They had a blood drive the day before,” Tiffany said, putting the bag of blood in the warm water. “Will you take the chest downstairs and put the rest in the refrigerator?”

  Before Tiffany turned to look at Kenneth, Besseta and the ice chest were gone. When Besseta opened the door to the fridge, Tiffany yelled out what to set the temperature at. Moving the thermostat with one hand, Besseta used the other to rake out the items on the shelves, spilling them on the floor.

  She carefully stacked the bags, filling two shelves front to back and half of the last one. Closing the door, Besseta blurred around the kitchen, cleaning up the food she had swept to the floor.

  Chapter Two

  When the kitchen was clean, Besseta sank to the floor crying. Upstairs, Tiffany heard her crying and called out, “Besseta!”

  Before the shout ended, Besseta was standing beside her, wiping her face. “Yes?”

  “Don’t fall apart on me, I need you,” Tiffany said, hanging another bag of clear fluid up and taking the empty bag down. Tossing the empty bag over onto the two bodies, Tiffany moved over to the machine. “The green line is showing Kenneth’s heartbeat, and the green number says what it is. The blue line and number are his oxygen. The red number with the slash is his blood pressure, and the white number is his temperature.”

  Looking at the monitor as Tiffany pointed at the numbers and lines, Besseta still didn’t feel better. “Okay, but are they good? Is that why they are blinking, and the machine is making noise?” she asked hopefully.

  “They are getting better. His heart rate is coming down and his pressure is coming up, but his temperature is rising,” Tiffany said. “Get a towel, wet it with cool water, and wipe him down with it.”

  Darting out, Besseta was back in moments, wiping Kenneth’s chest gently. “He still has his pants on,” Besseta said.

  Picking up the scissors, “Cut them off,” Tiffany said, handing them over. As Besseta cut them off and continued to wipe Kenneth down, she would look over at the machine, hoping only the white number changed. “Watching the screen doesn’t help. We want his temperature between ninety-eight and ninety-nine,” Tiffany said, pulling more stuff out of the yellow bag.

  “So, one hundred and three is bad?” Besseta asked in alarm.

  Kicking the yellow bag away, Tiffany pulled over the blue one. “I don’t know,” she answered honestly, and Besseta started getting lightheaded. “I’ve never monitored someone during a change with equipment. I’m just using the normal values.”

  “So, he has a fever?” Besseta asked, looking down at Kenneth. “I remember feeling hot during the change and wanting water all the time.”

  Pulling stuff out of the bag, Tiffany started building a pile of supplies on the bed. “Yes, that is normal, but Kenneth was weak at the start of the change and I don’t know if it’s from the gunshot or virus.”

  Darting back to rewet the towel, Besseta was back in the blink of an eye. “Does he have a chance?”

  Tiffany stopped digging in the bag and looked up. “Yes,” she said, walking over and rubbing Besseta’s back. “I’m not going to lie to you, Besseta. I didn’t expect him to make it home.”

  Besseta continued wiping Kenneth down gently as her body shook with grief. “Neither did I,” she sobbed.

  Leaning over, Tiffany hugged her. “We will do everything we can and then some,” she said. Releasing Besseta, she said, “I’ll be right back.”

  Besseta paused her task and leaned down, kissing Kenneth’s dry cracked lips. “Always,” she whispered.

  Hearing something hit the door, Besseta looked over to see Tiffany carrying in the dining room table. “I need something to lay my stuff out on,” she explained, putting the table down.

  “Use whatever you have to,” Besseta told her.

  Walking over to the bed, “No, if I used Eleanor or one of the other cars Kenneth likes, he would spank me when he wakes up,” Tiffany grinned, putting the pile of stuff on the table.

  A snort sounded in Besseta’s throat. “Well, we won’t use them,” she half chuckled as she cried.

  After laying out the stuff, Tiffany turned around. “Besseta, the back wound is bleeding again. We have to wash out the wound and stop the bleeding.”

  “Operate?” Besseta asked, almost panting.

  Shaking her head, “No, that would put too much stress on his body,” she said and picked up what looked like scissors. “We can’t use our saliva for the same reason; too much stress. So, we’ll use these. Hemostats.”

  Besseta watched Tiffany open the jaws and saw they were flat, not sharp. When the jaws closed she heard the instrument click, locking the jaws. Taking a deep breath, “What do you want me to do?” Besseta asked.

  “First, I’m going to lift him up and I want you to get the clothes from under him. Then, lay down towels and line up pillows, so he is on his side,” Tiffany explained.

  “Screw the bed. I don’t care if we ruin it,” Besseta snapped.

  “No, we can’t have him lying in blood because it would get him too cold, and we have to monitor how much leaks out,” Tiffany said. Disappearing, Besseta reappeared beside Tiffany with an armload of pillows and towels.

  When they finally got Kenneth cleaned up and on his side, Tiffany ran to the bathroom. “Forgot to wash my hands,” she called out.

  Darting back in, she picked up some scissors and cut off the bandage. When the bandage fell away, blood seeped out of the wound. Tiffany grabbed bottles of fluids, squirting them in the wound.

  Kenneth groaned and tightened up his body. “Don’t let him move much,” she said. “But watch yourself, about ‘wanting’ him to stay still.”

  Running around the bed, Besseta jumped up and landed on her knees beside Kenneth’s head, whispering and caressing his face. Slowly, his body relaxed and Besseta sat up, but continued to caress his face. “Believe me, I’ve been suppressing the ‘want’ tonight,” Besseta admitted, looking up as Tiffany kept squirting fluid in the wound.

  Looking at Kenneth’s abdomen, Besseta saw the blood coming out of the wound on the front start to turn clear. “I think you’re pushing fluid out the front,” she said.

  “Good,” Tiffany said, dropping the empty bottle and grabbing another full one. “That’s what we want. How’s the bleeding over there?”

  “It really wasn’t until you started that,” Besseta said as Tiffany squirted the bottle in the wound.

  When the bottle was empty, Tiffany tossed it over her shoulder. “He’s not going to like this,” she warned, picking up the clamps. “Hold him.”

  Leaning down, Besseta started whispering to Kenneth as Tiffany knelt down, looking into the wound. Seeing a spot where blood was coming from, she put the tip of the clamp on it and locked the jaws. Kenneth jerked and Besseta continued to whisper as she kissed and caressed him.

  It was mid-morning when Tiffany stood up from behind Kenneth with a smile, “That was the last one,” she said. Besseta looked up and saw Tiffany was covered in Kenneth’s blood.

  “He leaked a lot out, think he needs more?” she asked as she caressed his chest.

  “That’s what the bag of blood in the water is for,” Tiffany said, picking it up. Feeling it was warm, she connected a tube to it and let it run in. “Our blood doesn’t matter, but if you give Kenneth human blood, make sure an O is on the pack.”

  “Our blood doesn’t matter?” Besseta asked confused.

  Shaking her head, “No, our blood doesn’t have a type but if it did, we would be O negative. The only thing wrong with our blood is it’s loaded with a virus that’s lethal to most people.”

  “I hope not for Kenneth,” Besseta mumbled. ‘We’ll know soon enough’ she heard Tiffany’s thought. Tiffany went to the bathroom to clean up as Besseta leaned over, looking at Kenneth’s back.

  She cringed, seeing the handles from dozens of clamps sticking out of his back. Lowering her head, Besseta put her forehead on the side of Kenneth’s face. “Please fight, baby. I need you,�
�� she whispered.

  That’s how Tiffany found Besseta when she walked back into the room. Smiling, Tiffany darted over and started picking up the trash. Throwing the bodies over her shoulder, she darted outside to the incinerator.

  It was noon when she came back and Besseta was still resting her head on Kenneth’s face, whispering. “Have you heard anything in his mind?” she asked, grabbing gauze.

  “No,” Besseta sighed, sitting up.

  Gently placing the gauze between the clamps, Tiffany leaned over and taped a wad over the hole in the front. “You haven’t heard anything?” she asked, looking up.

  “He screamed again before the seizure and after the seizure,” Besseta answered, looking at the machine. “The white number is at a hundred.”

  “We won’t start wiping him down again, until it goes over a hundred and one,” Tiffany said, sitting on the other side of Kenneth. Bonnie and Clyde were still lying beside Kenneth’s head as Tiffany reached over and petted them.

  “Will you tell me why you said Kenneth had a good chance to survive the change?” Besseta asked, looking away.

  Shrugging her shoulders, “I don’t know how, but I feel it in certain people,” Tiffany said and Besseta exhaled in relief.

  Turning back, Besseta looked at Tiffany. “If he doesn’t make it, I’m going to attack the Strong Hands head-on,” she said in a dark tone.

  Nodding that she understood what Besseta meant, Tiffany reached over and grabbed her hand. “I’ll go with you,” she said. “Before we die, we’ll take many of them with us.”

  Looking down at Kenneth, Besseta brushed his hair off his face. “How did Kenneth take the pain from me?” she asked, making Tiffany jump back. “Don’t worry, I didn’t find out from you,” Besseta sighed. “I heard it in his dreams.”

  “Besseta, I really don’t know,” Tiffany confessed. “But he did. I watched it with my own eyes.”

  Wiping her eyes, “I know he did. That was the easiest time I ever had absorbing an ability,” Besseta said.