Red, White, and Blood

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Red, White, and Blood Page 14

by Christopher Farnsworth


  Lanning finally answered the president’s question. “We don’t know. But it’s out now. So we have to deal with it.”

  “That’s not a very good answer, Dan,” Curtis said.

  “That’s all I’ve got.”

  Curtis clenched his jaw, then nodded. “Fine. Dan, I want you to prepare an official statement. We are allowing local law-enforcement to deal with what appears to be a completely local matter. The victims have our prayers and support. Off the record, you tell people what Ms. Roark is calling a cover-up has simply been discretion. We haven’t wanted to turn this into a sideshow by getting involved. The Secret Service offered its help but was refused. Also, I seem to recall the woman was married. See if you can float the idea of a jealous husband.”

  Lanning scratched out a few notes on a piece of paper and got up. “Got it. I’ll have a draft out with the morning schedule.”

  “No,” the president said. “You’ll have it out in ten minutes. I want people to have our response before they even wake up.”

  Lanning hesitated. He noticed that Zach and the others were not being dismissed.

  “Did you need anything else, Dan?” Curtis asked.

  “No, sir,” he said.

  “Right now, there’s a security issue I want to discuss,” Curtis said.

  Lanning looked at the president, the disbelief clear on his face. “Right,” he said. He took a few steps toward the door before turning back to Curtis.

  “I know you’re keeping something from me, Sam,” Lanning said. “It’s fine. I’m used to that. But I’ll be fucked if I can figure out what it is. Anyway. I guess I just want credit for going quietly out the door.”

  The president smiled at him. “I know how hard that must be for you, Dan.”

  Lanning left. Curtis turned back to the rest of them.

  “What now?” he asked.

  “We haven’t found him,” Butler said.

  “I could guess that much,” Curtis replied. “What I want to know is how many more funerals I have to attend before you do.”

  “It has changed its pattern,” Cade said.

  As always, everyone stopped to listen when he spoke.

  “It has never behaved like this before. It’s never been this mobile. It’s never gone this far afield from one hunting ground. And it’s never been able to contain itself this long between kills. I should have been able to find and kill it already.”

  “You’re not filling me with a great deal of confidence, Cade,” the president said.

  “My apologies, sir,” Cade said. “I have no good answers for you.”

  Curtis blew out a sigh of frustration. “Then I guess I just keep taking it.”

  Zach had a question, however. “You’re going to warn the local campaign offices, right?”

  The president didn’t reply. The silence lasted a few seconds too long for Zach’s comfort.

  “I mean, you don’t have to tell them the Boogeyman is after them. Obviously. But you could tell them there have been death threats.… You don’t have to be specific. They could still be more careful that way.”

  The president shook his head. “We can’t take the chance of this getting out to the public.”

  Zach felt a small bloom of anger open in his chest.

  “You’re not going to tell them anything?”

  “No,” Curtis said. “We cannot allow this knowledge to spread. And I know Cade agrees with me.”

  Cade gave a curt nod. “Hunting the Boogeyman has never been easy. The more people involved, the more bodies. It’s that simple.”

  Zach tried not to be pissed at Cade; he wasn’t human, after all. He didn’t have the same emotional range as a human as a consequence of the change into a vampire. Whatever had designed the operating specs for bloodsuckers seemed to know that it would be a serious impediment if vampires had feelings for their prey, so Cade’s empathy was at best stunted, at worst nonexistent. All he cared about was catching and killing his prey.

  But the president was more concerned about what a leak might do to his poll numbers. It would confirm everything Roark had said in the story. It would throw gasoline on the fire.

  This was why, in some ways, Cade got along better with the president than with Zach. Zach was the closest thing Cade had to a friend or colleague, but on a fundamental level, Cade understood this president and the ones before him. It wasn’t fear that united them. Cade was not afraid of anything, as far as Zach knew.

  Cade, just like the president, hated to lose. On this, he and Curtis were instinctively in agreement: they’d both do whatever it took to make sure they won.

  “There’s another alternative,” Candace said.

  The president, then everyone else, turned to look at her.

  “Disclosure,” she said. “We go public. We tell everyone.”

  The room was silent. She had a look on her face. Zach recognized it from her appearances on the talk shows: a slight smirk with a practiced calm. She believed she had just jumped outside the box.

  “I mean, we tell people what we’re really up against,” she said, as if nobody understood what she meant. “We give people the information they need about the Other Side. At the very least, we’ll give them a fighting chance. And you”—she pointed to her father—“go down in history as the guy who led us in the ultimate battle between Good and Evil. You tell me that wouldn’t get you reelected.”

  Zach searched for the right words. “It’s not that simple,” he said.

  “Oh, bullshit,” she shot back. “Who are we protecting? Sure, it will be hard to believe at first, but people will have to accept the evidence. Hell, we can bring out Cade if it comes to that. If this really is a war, shouldn’t the people know about it?”

  She wasn’t done, but Zach started talking over her. And then Cade spoke, silencing both of them.

  “No.” One word, dropped like a stone.

  Candace recovered fast. “Why not?” she shot back.

  Cade looked at her for a long moment. She squirmed a bit. Cade seemed to be determining if the question was serious.

  “It would break you.”

  She blinked. “Excuse me?”

  “The Other Side feeds on your fear,” Cade said. “It grows stronger as each one of you succumbs to superstition and despair. This is a war where territory is measured in minds and souls. You admit the truth, and you open a floodgate of pure horror. You’ve had this explained to you before, Ms. Curtis.”

  “But we could still—”

  “I wasn’t finished,” Cade said. “Even if that were not true, you cannot face what I represent. You would not survive in a world that admitted things like me exist.”

  Candace frowned. “You’re pretty scary, Cade, but I seem to be doing okay so far.”

  “No,” Cade said. “You’re not. I’m on your side. I’m leashed. And you’re still terrified of me. You literally cannot imagine living in a world where the things like me—the ones that do not have to obey and protect you—are part of your everyday life. You try, in your movies and your stories. You rehearse the Apocalypse over and over. And all of those efforts are too small. Too human to grasp what any of it would mean. Those stories still have heroes and hope. You cannot fathom what it would do to you, to actually live in that world. Could you kill your six-year-old child when she woke with blood on her lips? What would you do when you found the place in the cellar where your husband stored human flesh? Could you do what it takes?”

  The room was quiet again.

  “You couldn’t,” Cade said. “Because if you did, you would no longer be human. You’d be amputating your souls, one cut at a time, every day. You might continue to function—but only as monsters. You cannot live in that world. That’s why you have me.”

  Cade looked at Candace, who had gone quite pale, waiting for a response. She didn’t open her mouth.

  “It would break you,” Cade said again, and left the room.

  “I guess that answers that,” President Curtis said. He stood and we
nt into the bedroom in the back of the bus. He paused only to place a hand on his daughter’s shoulder and give it a squeeze. She didn’t respond.

  Butler followed the president. Candace and Zach were the only two left.

  Neither of them spoke for a while.

  “To be fair,” Zach finally said, “you did ask.”

  CANDACE WALKED OUT OF THE bus and through the hotel parking lot quickly. Zach followed, calling after her. She ignored him.

  Candace went through the lobby doors. Zach followed. The Secret Service dogged their steps a few feet behind. Zach caught up to her just past the bar.

  “Candace,” he said, grabbing her arm. “Come on. Talk to me.”

  She spun around quickly, looking like she wanted to slap him. Her hand came up, but all she did was point a warning finger at Zach. “Don’t touch me,” she said sharply. “I mean it.”

  A few of the late-night stragglers were still around, finishing their drinks and looking for any excuse to avoid returning to their empty rooms. A cop stood in the lobby and looked concerned as Candace passed. A drunken businessman. An airline pilot. Their shadow from the Seabrook campaign. They all gawked.

  Candace noticed, and stormed back out the lobby doors, into the parking lot again.

  Zach turned to the agents. “Guys. Please. Give us a minute.”

  The agents, Fisk and Dunn, looked at each other. Dunn nodded at Zach. “Get her back inside fast,” she said.

  Zach went through the doors.

  Candace stood in the cold, staring at nothing, hugging herself.

  “I want you to know I don’t appreciate your lack of support,” she said without turning to him.

  “You were wrong. Deal with it.”

  “You really believe this should be swept under the rug?”

  “And stomped flat.”

  She turned away. “I have more faith in people than that.”

  “Oh, bullshit,” Zach said, more tired than angry. “It’s not about faith in America. It’s about what’s out there. I’ve seen it. You haven’t.”

  Candace opened her mouth to argue, but Zach cut her off.

  “No. You’ve seen the warm-up act. You haven’t even been close to the headliners. None of it belongs in this world. And just looking at it makes it stronger—gives it a little more space that it shouldn’t have. This isn’t about your feelings. I agreed with Cade because he was right. This isn’t about scoring points in a debate. This is beyond human. Nobody should have to live in the same world as this shit. If I didn’t have to know about it, I’d gladly go back to blissful ignorance. But I do. So I take the responsibility until we beat it back to the Other Side. That’s our job. You need to get on board with that now or go home.”

  Candace looked at him for a long moment, then stared back out into the night.

  “You’ve changed,” she said.

  Zach shrugged. “Beats the alternative.”

  “Which is?”

  “Dying.”

  She thought about that for a moment.

  “Secrets,” she said. “Since I was five years old, my life has been nothing but secrets. Things Daddy wouldn’t talk about. Things we were never supposed to say when there were other people around. Smiling for the cameras. Every year, every election, more things we had to keep secret. I just get so sick of it sometimes.”

  Zach touched her arm so she could see he was smiling at her. “Join the club,” he said.

  “You know, I had a crush on you when we were kids,” she said.

  Zach blinked. Christ. Her father could take lessons from her in keeping someone off balance. But he remembered Candace as an eleven-year-old girl during Curtis’s first run for Senate. Zach was still in high school and the closest person to her age on the campaign. He spent a lot of time getting her sodas, helping her with her homework and keeping her occupied while her father and mother began their path toward the White House.

  “No. I didn’t know that.”

  “Yeah. Imagine how disappointed I was when you grew up to be such a dick.”

  Zach laughed.

  “I’m serious. You finally worked up the balls to take me into the Lincoln Bedroom and then you vanished. Why didn’t you ever try to see me again?”

  “Really? You want to have the ‘Why didn’t you ever call me?’ conversation now?”

  “You have something better to do?”

  He exhaled, sending a billowing cloud of vapor into the cold air. “Let’s put aside the fact that your father had the Secret Service escort me out of the White House and I thought I was going to be shot and dumped in the Potomac. You immediately took off for California. A week later, I’m watching you make out with some D-list celeb on TMZ.”

  “I wouldn’t call Topher D-list.”

  “Whatever. You didn’t seem to miss me.”

  She looked directly into his eyes. “I missed you.”

  That threw Zach again. “Well. A week later I was working with Cade. It didn’t seem like a good idea to pull you into my life. Especially after what happened at the White House.”

  “Maybe you should leave that decision up to me. After all, I’m here now.”

  “Yeah. You are.”

  The silence stretched between them. Neither one looked away.

  Zach leaned in to kiss her, but hesitated. “Are you trying to make a point about going public again? Trusting people to know what they want?”

  She laughed. “You can shut up now.”

  She grabbed him by the back of the neck and pulled his mouth to hers. Her skin was cold at first but was warm by the time they broke away.

  She took his hand and they walked back into the hotel together.

  ZACH MADE SURE THE DOOR was locked behind them this time.

  He turned around and saw Candace taking down her underwear while pulling down her skirt. His mouth might have dropped open, because she laughed when she saw the look on his face.

  “What?” she asked, still smirking. “Not romantic enough for you? Did you want to talk about our feelings some more first?” She reached behind her back and popped the clasp on her bra.

  Zach felt the blood rush away from his face and into other parts. “No,” he said, unbuttoning his own shirt. “This is good.”

  “Glad to hear it. If you’d decided to get sensitive on me now, I’d probably have to kick your ass right out of here.”

  Zach looked up from removing his pants—there was no way on Earth to do this with dignity, he thought—and caught his breath.

  “See anything you like?” she asked. Candace stood naked except for her heels and hose, her eyebrow cocked at the same angle as her hip, completely at ease. Her skin was flawless. Every inch.

  She looked down at him. “Now, that’s the response I was looking for.”

  Zach stepped toward her. She kissed him hard and quick, then pushed him to his knees. His head was level with the cleft of her thighs. He looked up into her eyes. Her smile was a little feral now.

  “Come on, Barrows,” she said. “What are you waiting for? A dinner invitation?”

  He couldn’t keep from laughing. “Jesus, Candace.”

  “Don’t,” she said. “I mean it. Don’t get all wishy-washy and lovey-dovey on me right now. With everything we’ve seen lately, I don’t want to have to worry about your feelings or think about monsters or what’s waiting out there in the world. Not right now. I just want to come and sleep.”

  “That’s all?” Zach said.

  “That’s all,” she said, hooking one leg over his shoulder, pulling him in tighter and putting her weight on him at the same time.

  “I can do that,” he said, his lips brushing hers now. She shuddered and growled a little in her throat.

  “So get to it,” she ordered.

  Zach did as he was told.

  THE BOOGEYMAN COULD SMELL the anticipation on them both. It had been so long for Barrows it was practically coming out his pores. And the woman, Curtis’s daughter, she was practically in heat. It filled him with an elem
ental level of disgust.

  But he’d stuff it down for now. He knew he could easily make it up to their rooms and catch them in the act. What would that do to Cade, to have his pet human sliced like a Christmas ham? It was so tempting.

  But no. He’d agreed to Holt’s plan. This time he would be more than a creature of instinct. This time he would wait.

  After all, when everything was finished, he’d have all the time in the world.

  NATIONWIDE POLLING NUMBERS, W/E OCT. 12,

  2012

  CURTIS—44

  SEABROOK—46

  UNDECIDED—6

  (Margin of error +/-5 percent. Totals may not equal 100 percent due to margin of error. Based on poll of 1,576 likely voters who expressed a preference between the two major parties.)

  OCTOBER 12, 2012, LANFORD, ILLINOIS

  Lanford, the town where Zach grew up, had undergone something of a rebirth. Solidly lower-middle-class all through Zach’s childhood and adolescence, it was now a community for those looking for a yard and a four-bedroom house within driving distance of Chicago. The new arrivals had brought money with them. They had turned downtown’s pawnshops into coffeehouses, built a new mall with an Apple store, turned the grimy diners into coffeehouses, replaced the U-Sav with a Whole Foods and the cheap watering holes with brewpubs, and turned the convenience stores into coffeehouses.

  Really, there were a lot of damn coffeehouses.

  Zach was somehow insulted. He’d grown used to being slightly ashamed of his hometown. Now it looked practically respectable. He was surprised to find the Civic Center had been completely refurbished. The leaking old mausoleum where he’d graduated from high school had been renovated, dragging it, if not all the way into the twenty-first century, at least into the late 1980s.

  It was while he was watching Butler and others do their security checks for the campaign rally—in daylight, so Cade was confined to his box in the cargo section of the bus—that he heard the familiar voice call his name.

 

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