by Mark Woods
Lukaas was not the only familiar face on-board the ship that had rescued them.
As the crew helped the last of the six survivors up on deck, one of them stepped forwards and took Wilfred firmly by the hand.
If he noticed Wilfred’s false hand, or indeed noted that it appeared to now be fashioned from silver, he made no mention of it.
“Lance-Corporal Bromley, or should that be Sergeant-Major by now? You know, I have absolutely no idea whether or not they might have promoted you after we lost touch after the war. How the devil are you, Man? Fancy meeting you here!”
With no further ado, the man promptly proceeded to shake poor, astonished Wilfred’s hand.
“Long time, no see, hey, old buddy, ol’ pal?”
Wilfred finally found his voice.
“Rogers?” he said, still not quite honestly believing what he was seeing. “What in seven hells are you doing here on-board this ship?”
***
Lukaas felt a stirring in his brain, like an itch he couldn’t scratch, and looked over at the newest arrivals to be plucked up and rescued out of the ocean.
He and his fellow wolf brothers had been only too happy to be picked up. None too pleased at the prospect of being stuck out there at sea for who knew how long until somebody finally found them or they eventually reached shore, but it seemed, they weren’t the only ones who had been rescued.
He felt a wave of shock rush through him as instantly, he recognised one of the people who had only just been brought up on-board.
Lottie…he thought. It can’t be, can’t possibly be…but it is. Somehow, the same fate that had separated them had now brought them right back together again.
He had almost given up ever expecting to see her again, let alone alive and well. Chances were, he’d thought upon abandoning The Bellastaria, she’d probably drowned out there somewhere; either that or fallen prey to the Vampyre he had seen in the lifeboat with her when she had escaped.
But now here she was again, right there in front of him and no more than a few feet away. Glancing over, and trying to look casual, Lukaas felt a warmth growing inside him as he suddenly realised he’d just been given a second chance to make everything alright with her.
Lottie, he thought, stepping forward.
One of his wolf-brothers, sensing he was about to do something stupid, quickly took Lukaas by the arm and held him back.
“Leave it,” his wolf-brother warned him. “For now, at least, until we’ve assessed the situation more and know more about these people who have rescued us. Until we know more about who they are and what they want from us, just play it cool. You can have your happy reunion with that little bitch of yours later…”
Lukaas nodded.
He knew his wolf-brother was right.
There was something about these people who’d rescued them, something not quite right that he and his brothers couldn’t yet put their fingers on, and until they knew more, he knew it made sense to play down any connection between him and Lottie and keep their past history a secret.
And yet…
Lottie…he thought again, and this time as he thought that, he thought he saw her look up in response.
***
“Listen up, all of you,” one of the crew who had rescued them began saying, raising his voice and stepping forwards. The peaked cap on his head and epaulets on his shoulders appeared to indicate that if he were not the Captain of this ship, then he was, at the very least, someone in authority. “You are now the honoured guests of the United States of America U.S.S. Scientific Research vessel, The Daedalus. There are very strict quarantine protocols in place on-board this ship, and all the research currently being carried out on-board is rated Above Top Secret and beyond – so your freedom on-board this vessel for the duration of your stay here will be heavily restricted. Before any of you are allowed to go any further, and by that I mean below decks, you will each and every one of you need to be tested and a sample of your blood taken to confirm you are not carrying any infectious or harmful diseases that might impair or affect the results of any of the research currently being conducted. Is that perfectly clear? Are there any questions?”
The six of them, himself and the other survivors with whom he had arrived here on this ship with, Wilfred noticed, were all being pulled apart and separated from each other. On the other side of the ship, likewise the other group of survivors were also being separated, just as they were, into groups that were much more manageable.
Jaqueline was pulled away from him before he could even as much as think of attempting to protest. As she went, Wilfred gave her a look he hoped she could interpret that was meant to indicate that, for now at least, she and the rest of them should probably do as they were being told.
It’s alright, he mouthed. Just do what they say.
She nodded, as if to show that she’d understood.
The more he looked, Wilfred noted, the more he thought this felt like a military operation – having been in the army himself, albeit in a different country and fighting a war he still wasn’t entirely sure they had won. He recognised the signs - the way the crew members stood, the way they carried themselves, the manner in which they held their guns, and the way they were splitting up all their prisoners, no doubt to make them easier to process.
For that is what he and his fellow survivors were now, he realised. Prisoners.
You could sugar-coat it all you liked, but there was no getting away with that fact as far as Wilfred could see.
He looked over to Rogers, but for now the other man – with whom he’d fought, and very nearly died, alongside in the war – was standing to one side, deferring to the man who presumably was Captain of this ship, if not Head of Operations.
What the hell is going on here? Wilfred wondered. What the hell is all this, and what on earth have we just stumbled into? Have we just leapt straight out of the frying pan and into the fire?
He guessed only time would tell…
He registered a disturbance behind him, and looked back to see Billy , the young cabin steward, attempting to pull away and fight off the two crew members who had come for him.
He seemed to be quite agitated, Wilfred saw, and went to move forwards intending to try and help calm the young lad down.
“Don’t,” Rogers told him, and took a firm hold of his arm to stop him.
“No, no needles! Keep them away from me! You’re not taking any of my blood!” the boy was saying, and seemed to be working himself up into one hell of a state. One of the guys nearest him had pulled out a hypodermic needle, presumably to take a sample of some of the young boy’s blood, just as the Captain or whoever that geezer in the peaked cap was had announced they would be going to a few minutes ago, but it looked like the lad obviously had some kind of phobia or aversion to needles.
“Let me go,” Wilfred insisted, “I can help calm him down.”
“No,” Rogers said, “for Christ’s sake, Bromley. Stay out of this – let them do their job, they’ve got this.”
“I told you – get away from me with that fucking needle!”
The boy was obviously much stronger than the crew, or Rogers, had given him credit for. As Wilfred watched, he lashed out with his fist and sent one man flying, even as he broke out of the other one’s grasp.
With no idea where he was going, the boy started pelting down the length of the ship – running blindly, not thinking, and seemingly solely obsessed with getting away from his two captors and their dreaded needles with no apparent idea where he was actually going –but he didn’t get very far.
Calmly, as though casually swatting a fly, the second of the two men who had attempted to hold him pulled himself back up to his feet, drew out a pistol, and then promptly proceeded to shoot the fleeing boy directly in the back as if were nothing.
There was a loud, sharp report, a crack that split the air, and then suddenly the young lad – Billy, Wilfred reminded himself, the boy’s name was Billy – collapsed to the floor and lay the
re still, unmoving, as blood pooled around him on the deck.
Back behind him, one of the women screamed – Wilfred thought it might well have been Jaqueline – but nobody else moved. There was little doubt in any of their minds, any of the five remaining survivors, that the boy most likely had been dead the minute his body hit the deck.
“Why?” Wilfred whispered. “Why, for God’s sake? Why? He was only a boy, only a boy…”
If Rogers, standing beside him, heard what Wilfred was saying, he did not bother to deem it with a response.
“Well,” the Captain said, still standing in front of them and raising his voice so that all of them could once again hear what he was saying. “That was somewhat unfortunate, but I trust, from that little demonstration, you can all now plainly see I am deadly serious about what I just said to you. Your co-operation here on-board this ship is strictly non-negotiable, and any and all non-compliance will be dealt with…swiftly.
“If you do what we say, exactly what we say and when we say it, and comply with all our demands, no-one else need get hurt, I promise you.
“You have my word on that.
“Now, men,” he said, turning to address his crew. “Please continue as you were – and any more trouble, please do not hesitate to shoot on sight.”
“Rogers,” Wilfred whispered softly so no-one else could hear him. “What the hell is all this? What the hell is going on here?”
“It’s complicated,” Rogers said. “But if you come below decks with me, after you have been tested and a blood sample taken of course, then I will do my best to try and explain everything to you.”
Two guys in an indiscernible uniform moved towards him, one of them with a hypodermic visible in his hand.
Wilfred willingly let them take his blood.
He looked over towards where Jaqueline was currently having the same thing done to her.
Later, he attempted to mouth to her. I will come and find you later.
This time, he had no idea whether or not she understood him – from here, it looked like she had gone into shock again just like she had back on The Bellastaria, but at least this time she was calm, he thought.
Beside her, the other girl, Charlotte, was also holding out her arm, likewise presumably in shock and from here, he thought he could hear her silently sobbing at what she had just been forced to witness.
He wanted to go to them both, wanted to try and comfort them and convince them that everything would be alright, but that would have been a lie and Wilfred thought he had already told enough lies for one day.
Instead, with one last glance back, Wilfred allowed himself to be taken below decks.
Three
Jaqueline watched as Wilfred was forcibly taken away below decks and saw him mouthing something at her shortly before he disappeared and was led out of sight.
Though she did not catch exactly what it was he was trying to say to her, the message he was trying to convey was clear – These people mean business; do what they say for now. Do everything they ask of you and comply with their demands, and I will come back for you and find you later…
She could almost hear the words in her head, speaking in his voice.
Though they had known each other for less than a day, already she knew he would look out for her – and that he would come for her as soon as he was able.
Until then, she and the rest of them would just have to bide their time.
They had all seen the consequences of what might happen if they disobeyed.
The death of the young cabin steward, though none of them had really known him, had come as a massive shock to them all, Jaqueline noted. She, in particular, felt stunned – and more than a little afraid that at any moment, one of the soldiers might just decide to turn his gun upon her.
After all they had been through, everything they had already survived – the massacre back on The Bellastaria, the blowing up of the ship – to lose one of their number now, so soon after being rescued, felt like a massive blow.
She noticed the young girl – Charlotte, she thought her name was – looking over at the other group of survivors, all men she noted, who had also obviously only just recently been rescued and were still currently being processed just like them, and then noted that she was gazing at one them in particular with a certain air of familiarity.
Jaqueline pulled close to the girl as one of the men took her blood, another of them standing, watching her, on guard with a rifle cradled in his arms, and asked her, “Do you know him?” as another of the men drew blood from Jaqueline’s own arm.
Charlotte seemed to stir as though woken from a dream.
“What?” she asked, slurring slightly and shaking her head as if just emerging from out of a deep and heavy sleep.
“I said, do you know him? One of those guys standing over there, I mean. You were staring at him…”
The dark-haired woman – Viktoryia – was watching them closely, Jaqueline noted. Pretending not to listen and being very clever about it, but at the same time taking in each and every word the two women were saying.
“I did…once…” Charlotte said. “In another life, another time…we bumped into one another again back on the ship, just before…just before….”
She shuddered.
“It’s okay,” Jaqueline said, lying. “It’s all okay now, we’re safe. We’ve been rescued.”
“But are we though?” Charlotte asked. “Are we safe? I bet that’s what that young boy, Billy, probably thought as well…”
Jaqueline had no words.
Finished taking blood, the guards took each woman by the arm and roughly began pulling them below decks.
***
Viktoryia listened in to the two women’s conversation and took in every word.
She looked over to where the girl, Charlotte, had been staring and spotted the guy the young girl had been looking at.
Well…the wolf.
Even from over here, Viktoryia could smell the stench of wolf on them all, all the other survivors, and knew the men, currently being processed and having their blood taken just like them, instantly for what they were - Lycanthropes.
But there was something else.
The one Charlotte was staring at, the one who had caught her eye, was also the one who had marked her, Viktoryia thought. She could tell straight away, she could sense it. She could almost feel the mental bond, stretching out invisible between them, connecting them.
Interesting, she thought. Curiouser and curiouser, said Alice.
She had sensed the mark on the girl earlier, but for obvious reasons had had no way of telling who, or what, might be responsible other than it was a Lycanthrope – and now, here he was, the very wolf that had marked her.
A most fortuitous turn of events.
It was almost as if, she thought, all this was supposed to be – like events were all slowly coming together for some kind of higher purpose, but Viktoryia didn’t believe in all that.
More likely it was all just coincidence.
Except…Viktoryia didn’t really believe in coincidence either…
She had only been on-board The Bellastaria in the first place because The Vampyre Council considered her to be expendable.
Ever since the Lycanthrope had first suggested both species get together on the maiden voyage of the luxury cruise ship, The Bellastaria, to hold peace talks between them, the Vampyre had suspected some kind of trap. This was why they had sent along only those younger, more reckless and headstrong members of the council they thought they could afford to lose. Or, in the case of her, those they didn’t mind being eradicated if their suspicions should prove correct.
Almost as soon as she’d stepped on-board, she’d sensed the presence of multiple Lycanthropes amongst the crew – this despite their efforts to disguise their scent. She’d guessed her fellow Vampyre back on the council had been correct in their assumptions, and that this was indeed a trap, but by then it was too late and the ship was already setting sail. These su
spicions were later confirmed when, in the process of snooping around, she had soon discovered all but a few of the lifeboats on-board ship had been sabotaged to try and limit any kind of escape – save by those who might know which lifeboats were still in full working order.
And so Viktoryia had camped out by one of the few working lifeboats, after despatching the young wolf set to guard it and tossing him over the side, and then waited to see if she were just being paranoid or whether she and the council had indeed been right.
When everything had all kicked off and the explosions had started, chaos had quickly started to ensue. Viktoryia had jumped in the lifeboat, but before she could make good her escape, others had joined her. She had sensed the presence of the Lycanthrope mark on Charlotte as soon as she’d climbed into the boat with her, but then had sensed something else curious about her as well. The girl also carried the mark of a Vampyre, but the combination of both marks upon her had done something to her, changed her somehow.
Then Viktoryia suddenly realised what it was – the combination of both marks combined had somehow altered her D.N.A - transformed her into something that was not just human anymore, but something else; something Viktoryia had heard about, and read about in ancient tomes stored far beneath The Vampyre Council chambers, but had never expected to ever actually see in her own lifetime…a hybrid.
This was something so rare, Viktoryia thought, that if she kept the girl safe, escorted her back with her to New York, it might even be enough to get her back into the good graces of the Vampyre Council. Might even earn her a long coveted place on the council itself.
And so it was that she had decided to keep Charlotte close by her side.
For a while there, shortly after they’d left The Bellastaria, she’d thought she was home and dry. The guy with the silver hand kept looking at her funny, and she had strong reason to suspect he might well be part of that secret organisation of Vampyre killers known as The Hunters, but if he had any sense he’d know it was in their best interests to keep both their secrets – at least until they reached dry land.