Wayward Son

by Heath Stallcup

  “They weren’t happy. Something about stealing something from them. A notebook and something to do with a weapon.”

  Rufus inhaled deeply and felt the pain in his chest lessen as his ribs healed. “They know.”

  “Yes, sir, they know. And as I told you, they aren’t happy.”

  “And Jack?”

  Marco avoided his eyes. “He was most unhappy.”

  *****

  Jack watched the helicopter take off, his wife and future child literally fading into the sunset. He tried twice more to get Nadia to understand and twice more she rebuked him. When she finally left, he pulled her aside and forced her to listen. He told her that he loved her and he had to do this to keep her and the baby safe. She refused to accept it.

  It broke his heart to watch her leave, but he knew he had to see this through. “You gonna be okay?”

  Jack turned and saw Gus approaching him from behind. “I dunno, Gus. She’s my everything.”

  “Does she know that?”

  “I tried to tell her, but she doesn’t want to hear it right now.” Jack leaned against the pillar still standing in the front of the castle. “I couldn’t make her understand that I need to see this through for her and the baby.”

  “She’ll come around.” Gus placed a hand on Jack’s shoulder and gave it a slight squeeze.

  “What if she doesn’t?”

  “She will. You’re fated, right?”

  Jack rolled his eyes. “For whatever that’s worth.”

  “It will work out.” Gus stepped past him and out into the courtyard. “You just need to hurry up and do whatever it is you have to do.”

  “Right now, I’m planning to head back to base with you boys.”

  “And us,” Kalen added. Neither Jack nor Gus had heard him approach.

  “Right…and them.” Jack paused then turned back to Kalen. “If the mission to Geneva is off, why are you guys still hanging with me?”

  Kalen motioned for Jack to step aside. The two walked out into the sandy area between the castle proper and the beachhead. “The Wyldwood has requested it. When the Wyldwood requests something, you do it.”

  “Oh, I get that. I just don’t understand why.”

  Kalen shook his head. “Our elders have been having visions of something dark, Chief Jack. Something ominous. It has them fearful.”

  Jack stopped walking and pulled Kalen to a halt. “Wait, do you mean visions like they had back when the Sicarii first rose up?”

  Kalen shrugged. “I do not know. I just know what the Wyldwood has told me. Stay with Chief Jack. He shall lead you.”

  Jack sighed and stared at the setting sun. “I think I need some answers my friend.” He turned and headed back toward the castle.

  “Where do you go?” Kalen called out.

  “To make a phone call.” Jack entered the castle and took the stairs two at a time.

  He trotted down the hall and pushed the remains of his door out of the way. The attack from the gunship had splintered the heavy English oak to shards and most of his heavy antique furniture was ruined. He pushed his way past the trash and detritus in the room and bent low to retrieve the ornately carved box from under the bed. Pulling it out, he cleared a spot in the floor and set the box down. Sliding it in front of him, he carefully opened the lid and stared at the bundle inside wrapped in simple cloth. With both hands he carefully lifted the bundle out and placed it onto the floor, then slid the box out of the way.

  Very carefully, Jack unwrapped the cloth and lifted the large polished stone from its wrappings. He placed the stone gently on the stone floor and smoothed the fabric beside it. Jack closed his eyes and recited the short chant that he had been taught then blew lightly on the cloth. Slowly, letters began to appear on the cloth.

  Jack held the cloth up to the window and tried to look through the letters. Taking a corner, he gently folded one side across to the other. Then he folded it the other way. He lifted the cloth again and looked at the setting sun through the gossamer material. The letters that had previously made no sense to him, now created words that he could read. Jack quickly read the lines in the form of a chant.

  He picked up the polished stone and rubbed it while repeating the chant. Slowly the stone became opaque and a murky light emitted from it. He held the stone in his lap and stared into it. “Loren? I’d really like to speak with you again.”

  He waited a moment longer and was about to give up when her radiant face appeared in the stone. “Chief Jack, it is good to see you.”

  “And you.” Jack waited a moment hoping she would volunteer the information he was seeking but her image simply smiled at him. “I need information.”

  “Of course. What I have is yours.”

  “Kalen tells me that the elders are seeing things again,” Jack blurted out. “Visions. Something dark and scary?”

  Loren’s smile almost appeared sad for a moment, but she quickly recovered. “He is very young. He should have kept that to himself.”

  Jack gave her a puzzled stare. “Why is that? Should I not be made aware of possible threats?”

  “Oh no, Chief Jack, it is simply that we aren’t sure what the threat may be. It is true that the elders are having visions of another dark threat. An ancient darkness that threatens to rise up once more, but…” She paused, as if searching for the right words. “There isn’t a clear consensus on what that ‘threat’ may be.” She actually appeared to blush.

  “Any kind of heads up would be appreciated here, Loren. I mean, if it points us in the general direction.”

  “I understand what you ask, Chief Jack, but alas, I cannot give what I do not have. Some foresee a period of great darkness, some foresee a darkness rising and then quickly extinguished. Others see a threat that rises and then…like waves on the water, it ripples out.”

  “So nothing specific?”

  “I fear not.” The look in her eyes told him that she believed the threat to be real, but she could no more pinpoint it than he could. “And Kalen should have kept such knowledge to himself until we knew more. Forgive him, Chief Jack, he is but a child and has been thrust into a position of—”

  “Whoa! Wait a second. A child? How can you say that?” Jack had to stop and think for a moment. Kalen? He was more than a child. The guy was huge as far as Elves were concerned.

  “Yes, a child. He is only seventeen years. He is a most capable warrior. He was trained by his own father from the age of three. His brother Horith was set to become Captain of our Guard. The Gatekeeper. But now…” She lowered her eyes a moment and shook her head.

  “He didn’t make it?”

  “Horith? He is healing. But he will be unable to defend us again. Kalen must become the Gatekeeper.”

  “You said he’s only seventeen?” Jack had trouble accepting that. “He looks older.”

  “He is Elf, Chief Jack. A warrior Elf at that. His years were not easy.”

  “Understood.” Jack sighed as he considered what she had told him. “Okay Loren. I know you’re busy so I’ll leave you to your work. But if any of your elders get a clearer picture of what this threat is, please let me know as soon as you can.”

  “As you will, Chief Jack.”

  “Peace be with you.” Jack saluted her.

  “Peace be with you.”

  *****

  Damien awoke and thrashed in the coagulated blood. It felt like cold pudding around his body as he fought to pull himself to the surface. For the briefest of moments, he couldn’t remember where he was and as his head broke the surface of the vat he had to hang an arm over the edge to keep from slipping back under. He gagged and sucked air into his throat, coughing and spitting as he hacked the blood up and out of his lungs. Damien clung to the side of the vat until he cleared his lungs and could calm himself.

  Slowly he remembered the events as they played out. Rachel had recited the chant, the blood of the virgins had restored her original body and the elder…he had eaten the elder. And his energy had been sucked fro
m him.

  Damien tried to stand and felt weak as his body fought the weight of the coagulated blood clinging to his clothing. He hooked a leg over the edge and slid over the side and into the floor. He lay gasping on the cold concrete floor, trying to come to terms with what had happened. From the corner of his eye he saw movement and he quickly turned his head to see Lilith sitting on a stack of crates watching him.

  “You survived,” she said drolly. She slipped from the top of the crates and stepped closer. He took in her bloody nude form as she bent down and grasped his face by the jaw. “You’re nearly restored. I’ll be.”

  “What happened?” he croaked.

  “You nearly died.” She stood, and he couldn’t take his eyes off her shape. The same shape he adored in the lower levels of the bunker in Nevada, except now, in the flesh, she was more perfect than he remembered. “I’m surprised you were able to pull through.”

  “You saved me?”

  She laughed deep in her throat and it unsettled him. “You didn’t save yourself.”

  “Thank you, my beloved.” He rolled over and coughed up another chunk of coagulated blood from deep in his lungs. “I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

  She continued walking until she reached the emergency shower. Dropping her robe, she pulled the chain and let the water flow over her body. Damien watched her shower and couldn’t fight the arousal he felt. He smiled as he pulled himself to his feet and stumbled to the shower beside her. As he wrapped his arms around her, she spun and slammed an open palm into his chest knocking him across the open space and sliding across the floor. “You’ll not touch me.”

  He rolled to his knees, gasping for air and coughing up more blood from his lungs. “W-w-what the hell was that for?”

  “You are not worthy.” She continued to shower, her back to him. “You shall not touch me.”

  Damien rocked back and sat up on his knees, his eyes searching her for some kind of answer. “What do you mean?”

  “Exactly as I said.” She turned and glared at him. “You would do well to heed my words.”

  “Fuck that.” Damien struggled to his feet. “I made you, bitch.”

  Lilith paused and slowly turned her eyes ablaze with anger. She lowered her gaze to him and cocked her head to the side. “What did you just say?”

  “You fucking heard me. I made you.” He staggered toward her, his finger pointing toward her. “You were mine before I put your jerkied ass back together, you’re mine now.”

  Lilith snorted and turned back to her shower. “Watch your tongue, little man.”

  “Watch my…” Damien stopped and stared at her. “Who the hell do you think you are?”

  She held a hand in the air. “I am your queen. And you shall bow in my presence.”

  “The hell I will—” Damien didn’t finish his sentence before he felt his legs go out from under him, his kneecaps smashing into the cold hard concrete. He heard the crack before the pain registered with his rattled brain. He opened his mouth to scream, but Lilith pinched her fingers shut. When she did, his mouth sealed and he screamed through a closed mouth, his desperate gasps for air blew globs of drying blood out of his nostrils.

  “I am your queen.” She turned and stared with evil behind her eyes. “And you will bow in my presence.”

  6

  “This place doesn’t look too vampy to me,” Jacobs whispered as he observed through binoculars. Cars zipped past on the nearby freeway and trash blew past his location as he studied a small mission style church.

  “It’s supposed to be empty but the spotter reported comings and goings and he verified fresh prints.” Lamb pulled the binoculars from Ing’s hand and stared at the Spanish style stucco building. “Add the recent increase in missing people and Bob’s your uncle.”

  From another vantage point Spalding and Sullivan watched the west side of the church building. Spalding stared at the building through his scope while Sullivan counted the minutes to sundown, watching the orange orb steadily glow to a darker red as it sank deeper on the horizon. Spalding tapped Little John’s shoulder. “Is that movement at your 3 o’clock?”

  Sullivan pulled his rifle up slowly and peered through the scope. “Negative. Civilian outside the fence.” He continued to observe the dog walker and added, “Unless the vamps have started using poodles as a ploy to throw us off the scent.”

  Spalding keyed his radio, “Bravo Four. Sitrep.”

  “All clear from the eagle’s eye, Bravo One.” Donovan shifted his position to get a better angle. Atop the nearby tower, he would be shooting nearly straight down into the courtyard of the church if anything came out. “You have clear access to both entrances.”

  “Roger that.” Spanky hit the button on his shoulder making his throat mic hot and linking it to the OPCOM. “Bravo units, converge on target. Maintain radio silence until bingo.”

  A series of clicks verified that all of Second Squad copied the order. From his peripheral vision, Spanky could just make out Jacobs and Lamb working their way through the knee high grass toward the front entrance while he and Sullivan worked their way to the rear of the church.

  It was slow going closing on the church through so much open terrain, but they wanted to maintain their element of surprise. Both teams had closed the gap by half when Sullivan raised a closed fist, halting Spalding. Spanky whispered into his radio, “All units hold.”

  Sullivan slowly brought his rifle up and peered through the scope. “What the—”

  Spalding didn’t wait for Sullivan to explain. He came to one knee and brought his own weapon to bear. Looking through the scope, he saw what appeared to be a person dressed from head to toe in black moving swiftly and silently across the rooftop, a sword strapped to their back. Whoever it was moved quickly, their face covered by a black hood.

  “Who the fuck is that?” Lamb whispered through the coms.

  “Bravo One, report.” OPCOM demanded.

  “Wait one, sir,” Darren whispered as he watched the black-clad figure do a silent front flip and land deftly on the rear porch. Placing their hands on the edge of the porch, the acrobat did a hand stand, kicked out and swung out then in toward the rear door, kicking it in and rolling into the church in one deft move.

  “All units converge, now!” Darren ordered.

  Lamb and Jacobs ran for the front door and knocked it out of its frame as both men hit it with their shoulders, tucking and rolling into the darkened interior. Rolling to their feet again, they flipped the lights on their rifles as soon as they were up and in the ready position.

  Spalding and Sullivan heard muffled screams and banging as they ran past the side of the church near the rear door. Darren stacked on the left and John entered in a low crouch. Sweeping left and right, they found black blood splattered on interior walls and ashed vampire remains still smoking on the floor as they slowly made their way through the smaller rooms of the rear.

  A loud scream broke the near silence and a burning body shattered through a wall near John who turned and put two silver rounds into what was left of the dying vampire. He stepped to the side and looked through the jagged hole the body had been thrown through. He saw the black clad person expertly swinging a sword while simultaneously fighting off four vampires. As the swordsman sliced and diced, flames and ash sparked from the bodies of his opponents.

  “We have a bogie,” John announced into his coms.

  “Who is it?” Jacob’s voice came through his earpiece.

  “Can’t tell. They’re dressed like a ninja, but they can damned sure use a sword.” John jumped back into the hallway and pushed his way forward. As he was about to step into the open room where the four vampires were fighting the ‘ninja’, a body hit the wall of the hallway and exploded in a sparking pile of ash.

  Spalding grabbed him by the neck of his uniform and pulled him back just as the vampire erupted into a fireball and John stared at the embers slowly rising into the darkened room. Growling low in his throat, Little John
took a long step and jumped the still burning remains and rolled into the room, his carbine coming to bear on the lone occupant standing in the middle, sheathing his sword. “Halt!”

  The black-clad swordsman froze in place then slowly turned. John couldn’t see the man’s face and barely had time to react before the spinning roundhouse connected a foot with John’s jaw. As he fell, the smaller and quicker figure jumped to the side, kicked off the wall and landed deftly on John’s shoulders, essentially riding him to the ground.

  Little John hit the hardwood floor and rolled, taking his attacker with him. His hand shot up and grabbed the swordsman by the tunic and pulled him off balance as he continued his roll and ended with John on top of him, his pistol shoved into the man’s face. “Who the fuck are you?” he growled as he jerked the hood away.

  John saw long dark hair fall to the side but the face was still covered with a black wrap. He grabbed it and pulled it away just as a fist came up and caught him in the solar plexus. With the wind knocked out of him by surprise, the swordsman brought a hand up to knock the pistol from his grip then caught his arm in an arm bar hold. Rolling over the top of him and pulling him off balance, John was essentially pinned by his own weight.

  He looked up through narrowed eyes and gritted teeth to see… “Brooke?”

  The swordsman froze then glanced down at him. “Dad?”

  Her grip lessened just enough for John to pull her over him and to the side, freeing his arm. As she rolled back to her feet, she came up and stared at him, her eyes wide. “This isn’t possible…”

  “No, Brooke, it’s okay.” John stammered.

  “No!” she screamed, her foot jutting out and catching him across the chin before she launched herself out the window and into the cool night air of El Cajon.

  “Was that who I think it was?” Spalding asked as he held a hand out to John.

  John took his hand and pulled himself to his feet. “Yeah, it was.”

  Lamb and Jacobs stepped into the room. “We only found three.” Lamb stated as he looked around at the ashed vampires. “Looks like you hit the mother lode.”