***
It was bad enough the incompetent fool had cost Joseph his initial chance at taking out his long distant kin. But now the boy was barely keeping it together and that would prove fatal to Joseph's plans if he didn't find a way to keep the boy focused. Tadashi sat waiting in front of Joseph's desk. Desperation gripped Caesar then and he reached out and grabbed the vampire's wrist with a powerful grip even the ancient Japanese general couldn't match and in an instant his teeth were biting, tearing into the flesh and blood seeped into his mouth wetting against his tongue and the blood visions began. He saw the man Tresney standing in front of a mirror talking. The words cut in and out but before long Joseph was piecing it all together. He would come after all. He would come and he would try to take it all away. And he could. He could do it. He could end everything Joseph had spent centuries planning and building with blood and bone and brains and lives spent indiscriminately both human and vampire. And this little creature of his own flesh and blood... He would try and take it?
Tadashi's lifeless body fell back with a thunk and took the chair with it, diving toward the floor.
The dissonance of Joseph's screaming stretched up through the ground and up into the sky where it died out just as quickly as it erupted.
Chapter 21
There's No Place Like Home
The dull haze of a desert evening hung in the horizon as Jackie's eyes slipped open to let the night's first view arrive. She sat up in the car in a rush, pushing the thick black blanket off of her body, her eyes scanning the houses alongside the road to the vehicle's left and right.
"Hey there, someone's decided to join the living, eh?" Frank's mix of phlemy cough and laughter nearly shook the car as Jackie turned sharp angry eyes in his direction. "Yeah, yeah. What can I say, babe. I'm not gonna be around much longer. Best to enjoy every second while it's there to enjoy, capeesh?"
Jackie rolled her eyes and went back to watching the familiar-yet-alien houses pass by. "We're so close... I... I didn't expect to be so close so soon."
"Well, when I realized we only had about eight hours of solid driving time left, I opted to pick up some food for the road so I wouldn't have to stop for a while. Seemed to work out well, but goddamnit do I have to go to the bathroom now!"
Some distant part of Jackie wanted to laugh, wanted to smile, to let Frank know she appreciated what he had done and didn't so much mind his crass humor, but the part of her that was close was too focused. They couldn't have been more than a mile away from the house. It was all too familiar, yet... none of it was right. The houses were all abandoned. Not a single stirring car or pedestrian or even any animals. Dread gripped hold of her unbeating heart and turned her already chilled insides to solid ice. Something had happened here. Something bad. And it was only a matter of moments before they pulled up to the house and found... What? The same thing? Or something different by some miracle of graceful exception? It was then that the pieces started to come together. That bitter smell that had been lying dormant from her perception, held at bay by her mind trying to make sense of what she was seeing and what she anticipated seeing when they arrived, was now so plainly obvious that she couldn’t begin to deny what it was now.
Human decay. And lots of it.
It was everywhere here. Tracing in between the scents of charred wood and drywall and melted plastic. Frank turned the corner, slowing the car both from need and from what Jackie could sense was a heart-pounding tension building in him nearly as much as it was building in her. Was he afraid for himself? It didn't matter. They were here now, pulling in front of the small yellow house where Jackie had taken her first step and where she had held the tiny hand of her little sister Karen when her parents first brought the little baby home. The porch swing bounced back and forth ominously, surrounded by yellow and black-streaked walls and large sections of flaked paint and crumbled concrete and...
The door was open wide for all to see inside. Furniture lay crumbled in one big pile in the center of the living room, half covered in ash and... blood. "Oh, God..."
Jackie was out the door of the car before Frank could even hit the brakes.
***
Yusef had been dreading this day ever since little Umar was born. Even more so since the day they dragged Safiyah out of their home and put a bullet in her brain. Ever since that day, after the screaming and the sobbing and the scratching at his own skin, he had swallowed all of that pain, all of that hatred and put up a wall. A wall that hid his own true beliefs and reflected instead what he would have to pretend to believe in order to protect his son. But the boy was four years old now and by Imperial law, today he would have to attend his first day of Sunday School. Father and son sat in the sedan, engine running, staring down at their feet in prayer—true prayer. When they were done, Yusef found himself unable to shut off the car. Sweaty hands gripping the steering wheel, he couldn’t imagine handing over his son to be brainwashed by what were often dangerously zealous Imperial church members. But he was already running late and he knew what they would do to the both of them if he tried to run now. He swallowed the lump in his throat, took a deep breath, and said, "Okay, buddy, it's time to go."
Umar looked up at his father with large brown timid eyes. "Okay, Papa."
They stepped out of the car onto the newly paved blacktop and Yusef took Umar's tiny hand and they began to walk. The sheer size of the church even from the far end of the parking lot, filled with hundreds and hundreds of cars, was intimidating and often overwhelming for Yusef. These places knew no poverty, accepted no blemishes... tolerated no dissension. Their power over their local community was unprecedented save for the power held by the Emperor. And they were everywhere. Every community, in every state, in every corner of the nation.
As Yusef's first footfall landed onto the bottom step of a tall concrete stairway leading up to the entrance, loud vibrating low-ringing bells chimed from the top of the monstrous white, spired building. At the sound of the bells, Umar's hand began to resist. Without looking down at his son, knowing full well the fear the boy felt, but also knowing just what the consequence of missing this important day would befall, Yusef pulled his son forward and lifted him up into his arms to carry. Umar, perhaps shocked by the unexpected displacement, only looked down at the steps dropping down to meet his father's rising feet one at a time then back up at Yusef's face and then let his head rest on his father's shoulders.
Rifles hanging at their sides, two men with large smiles attached to their faces like mischievous imps hanging vindictively by their claws from the mens' jaws held open the tall golden decorative double doors for Yusef and his son. Inside, the congregation was sitting stiffly, awaiting the weekly enforced ritual of worshipping the man called Joseph Caesar. Many merely pretending, others vehemently throwing themselves into the all-consuming fire of their faith in a man who is God ruling over what to them was a truly blessed and fortunate nation. It only took a short moment to find their seat. Once sitting, Yusef, barely breathed as he waited for the inevitable. His palms were like unending fountains and his dress shirt seemed to both stick to his skin and, in places, brush dryly against him, irritating his flesh. And after a moment that seemed to simultaneously take forever and flash by in the blink of an eye, the Imperial Church Youth Leader stepped up before the alter, facing the stadium-like crowds that surrounded him, and tapped his finger against the microphone. When he was satisfied that the taps he had made against the grill of the microphone were coming through as loud booms in the Church's extensive sound system, he cleared his throat and began to call the names of the children newly ready to start their "Imperial harvesting" in alphabetical order.
When each name was called, in turn a small, frail, helpless soul would wander out into one of the many channels in between the parted seas of seated congregations. October had apparently yielded many births and the names stretched on and on until finally, they called out, "Tahir," and with more trepidation than Yusef could nearly stand, he watched as his little boy got up fr
om the pew in his pressed white shirt and long black tie and ironed black slacks, and stepped hesitantly toward the altar.
***
"You might as well go ahead and consider this your last special assignment, Jonathan... Yeah. Okay. Just let me know as soon as it's done. All right. You too." Hank ended the call and tossed the cell phone in the passenger seat next to the unencrypted phone the Emperor was now undoubtedly tracking through its built in GPS signal. Traffic going north along the long overwater bridge was surprisingly light as Hank made his way out of New Orleans. The Emperor would no doubt lead Jonny right up on Hank's heels before a few days time had passed. But for now, Hank was worried. Trying hard to focus on the plan now in motion and wondering if it were too late to turn back or if there was another way. Grim gray clouds suffocated the last rays of dim sunlight trying to peek out over the horizon as the car rolled off of the bridge and onto more level road. Road that stretched on into the heart of that very horizon and would lead for hours on end into little more than decrepit rural landscapes dotted by the occasional dirt poor tiny town. A legacy long beyond the reach of Joseph Caesar's hold on the once United States.
As little excitement as there may have been along this journey, there would still be the knowledge of what was to come to keep Hank on edge at every blowing corn field. Every empty gravel road kicked up with dust from some fast-fleeing vehicle that could have been just some ordinary kids drag racing yet equally possibly some form of Imperial trouble waiting to come out and strike at any moment. At least he didn't have to worry about falling asleep at the wheel. There was too little time to be exhausted now. Even if he wanted to. Even if, in its current blood-nourished state, his body could possibly admit defeat. Hank tried to calm his nerves with the temporary delusion that it was just another roadtrip. One amongst hundreds he'd had no choice but to venture out upon since the day he rose from the dead, awakening to the cold hands of vampires upon his chest. From the moment he set foot in Necropolis his life had veered from one pinball corner to another. He wondered then, if he had died that night, would someone else have taken his place? Could someone else have? He laughed. What a world... What a goddamn world.
Chapter 22
Hell Hath No Fury
It had been like a dream to Simon. Like a soft pleasant dream that swiftly melted into a nightmare. One moment he was connected to his friend, his brother. Feeling his remorse, his longing, his struggle. The next, he was connected to... something else. And in the space of a human heartbeat that something else was controlling Ishan's body. Clumsily at first. But with each movement, it grew more confident, and therefore more adept. It had been days now. But still the feelings, the hatred, the desperation, the lack of Ishan's presence, were haunting Simon. Ever since his brother's reawakening, their unity had been like a relieving flood of comfort in the midst of his otherwise constant state of near panic at having been left to care for the Queen on his own and a growing worry for Jackie. But that moment of nothingness between them. That moment it were as if he had lost him all over again. And the depth of that loss didn't just refill so easily anymore.
Worse yet... Would it happen again? Or maybe a better question was when would it happen again? He couldn't have kept his fear to himself even if he’d wanted to, but its existence didn't disturb Ishan. In fact, his ancient brother welcomed it. The few barriers that remained between the two creatures were next to nothing and it only seemed to truly benefit them now. There was no need to be afraid to ask for help. Either one would help the other. And so they thought together on the problem at length. Hours first. Then days. And now here they were. Simon injecting Ishan with an incredibly pumped up version of the anesthetic they had given Jonny when they removed his implant. And somehow, it worked. And though the connection between the two vampires was weak as Ishan lay unconscious, it existed enough to quell the emptiness that filled up Simon's heart when the elder brother was absent.
And for that Simon could be nothing less than grateful. And though he still worried, still doubted that the problem could be solved so easily, he was at least comforted to know, to at least believe, that there would be some warning if that thing were to take control again.
Lying next to the Queen as She drank from the young female offering the ancients had brought her, Simon wondered if Jackie would ever be back. If she was safe. He hoped that she was. And that some day... she would come back. Soon. The Queen's eyes drifted up slowly and softly to meet his then, mouth still locked upon the young woman's neck, teeth still tearing into flesh. Blood still pooling in her mouth. But even though the gesture, certainly odd to any human being, seemed distracted at best, it was enough of a statement to Simon that she was there. That she cared beyond the depths of which any human or human vampire could truly understand. As she raised up to gasp for air, her hand gripped Simon's and held it tight. Be patient, child. My vision might not stretch out to her but that does not necessarily mean that she is lost. Hold still here, now, with me, while we still have time to be here together. A blur of motion, her tongue flicked then, wiping away the blood from her face so that one moment it was there and the next it was not. Then she lay her head against Simon's chest and, as the sun's invisible rays seeped in through the cave walls, warning them that true dawn had arrived, the two of them drifted off to sleep.
***
Frank sat in the car for a long time before he finally built up the strength of will to get out. He'd only seen a glimpse of what was inside, but it was more than enough. More than he thought he could bear. But the thought of what Jackie had found inside, and how much it would tear her apart brought back his sense of need. Stepping toward the small dilapidated house, a faint breeze blew through and the thick musk of death in the air nearly sent him roiling and gagging to the ground. The soft heart-wrenching sounds of her sobs kept Frank's feet moving one in front of the other. It took a great effort to climb over the concrete steps now mostly debris. And by the time he set foot upon what was left of the crumbled porch, Frank was already breaking a sweat. But inside... Inside was a sight Frank couldn't have prepared himself for. The whining moan in the back of his throat was involuntary. And no matter how hard he tried to focus, to make it stop, it just wouldn't cease.
Jackie lay balled up in the middle of the blood-soaked floor, cradling the head and torso of what looked to be a frail girl of about fifteen. Below the torso hung threads of flesh and oozing blood and entrails. An Imperial flag furled, its base hoisted from the broken ribcage of a man probably in his fifties. On the floor, among the bits and pieces of bodies, busted dishes, knick-knacks, and picture frames had been scattered. Frank fell backwards, his back smacking against the door jam and the world spun around as he found himself on his knees vomiting up every bit of food he had eaten on the road into a pit of crumbled rocky concrete just outside of the door.
There was nothing he could do here. Nothing he could do to help. Nothing he could do to comfort. Nothing he could do to save these people. And nothing she could do either. The realization—the sheer madness and futility of it all swept over Frank and he too was sobbing, saliva and vomit dripping down from his mouth. He spit the last bit away and wiped his face on the bottom of his shirt. But the sobbing continued and streams of tears came down in a flood. Unable to be contained. His heart cried out for Jackie and yet it also cried out for the little time he had left. For all the lives cut short. For his own life he had meant to do so much with cut short.
When he could breathe again, Frank flopped backward into a sitting position, his back resting against the wall. It took a moment for his eyes to focus, but when they did a cold fear gripped him.
Jackie was standing in the middle of the room, eyes blazing, blood smearing her face, jaw tight with fury. And all around her, arms, legs, torsos, heads, and feet floated in a circle around her, blood dripping a dotted circle over a layer of dried blood on the floor around her. But that wasn't all that was floating. From the corner of Frank's eyes he saw movement and turned to see, just inches from his head, th
e very pile of concrete pieces he had just covered in his own sick rising steadily from the porch. He looked past the disaster that had once been a dining room bar as knives, silverware, broken bottles, and bits of debris also hovered on the air with gentle ease. Then the very walls and floor around him began to vibrate, and Frank took his cue to get the hell out of there. He stumbled to his feet and leaped past the floating chunks of concrete, headed for his car. The moment both his feet hit the grass, he glanced behind himself.
Jackie stood in the doorway.
The ground beneath the entire structure began to rumble. A deep bellow rose from the ground like some subsurface beast breaking through the soil. Then the house began to shake.
Fissures grew in the concrete that connected the building to the ground and spread in lightning forks. Bits of gray from as small as sand pebbles to nearly as large as a softball broke free and spit in all directions. Frank ran to the driver side of the car to take cover. A mist of concrete rained over the car for several seconds and then the loud crunching began.
Peeking his eyes over the hood of the car, Frank watched as the house slowly rose from the ground, Jackie still standing in the doorway, body parts still orbiting her stiff warrior stance.
Before the shit hit the fan, Frank hadn't even thought to be afraid for himself. He wasn't even sure he was truly afraid now. He hadn't known she had such power, and probably, neither had the Empire, but now... Now it was obvious they would find out. They would find out and they would regret this thing they had done.
Chapter 23
The Darkest Clouds
Empire of Blood [Box Set] Page 66