Wayward Son

by Heath Stallcup

  “Let me know as soon as you can so I can alert Matt.”

  Jennifer nodded her agreement then slipped back into her own room. Laura shut the door and practically collapsed onto her narrow bed once more.

  Across the hallway, Mick paced rapidly in his room, clenching and unclenching his fists. Mr. Simmons will not like this at all.

  *****

  Tracy pushed aside the shoebox at the top of the closet and wrapped her fingers around the cold steel of the revolver. She felt a shudder travel through her body as her hand gripped the inanimate object and a queasy feeling rose from her stomach and threatened the back of her throat. She nearly gasped when she pulled the weapon from the top shelf of the closet, even though she knew exactly what it was. Even though it was the reason she had returned home. Even though it was the only thing that ran through her mind during the entire trip. Now that she was physically holding it in her hand, she wanted nothing more than to be as far from it as she possibly could.

  She placed the pistol carefully on the bed and stared at it with a curious fascination. A certain horror intermingled with the idea that this cold, unfeeling tool, this mindless utensil of destruction, this thing that her husband had brought into their home for their protection, would now be the harbinger of his undoing.

  She sat down hard on the end of the bed and ignored the silent specter beside her. She knew that if she didn’t take it to him, he’d only find another from somebody else at the base. She also knew the risks involved in letting nature take its course. An accidental infection of a loved one could mean the transfer of the curse. She wanted so desperately to curl into a ball and weep; to simply cry herself to sleep and wake to find out that it was all a bad dream.

  She held her head in her hands and sobbed silently, praying that somehow they both were wrong. Praying that somehow, everything would be okay. She lifted her face to find Hank licking at her foot.

  “What do you want?” Her voice cracked as she reached for his big square head. “Do you miss daddy?”

  Hank yawned and smacked his jowls, then rested his head on the top of her foot. The added weight pulled on the mattress and caused the pistol to slide across the comforter. Tracy caught it with her hand and nearly jumped when she felt the coldness of the steel again.

  “I don’t know if I can do this.” Hank closed his eyes and grunted, wiping drool on the top of her foot as he rested his heavy head. “Infected or not, I want daddy to come home again.”

  Hank’s head slipped off her foot and he slid to the floor in a large sleepy pile. He had no idea why the human he allowed to feed him was so upset, but he had a tired-on that demanded a nap.

  *****

  Hammer entered the lounge and peered into the gloom. The televisions were all off and nobody was in sight. He stepped over to the entry to the gym and stuck his head in, but again, the room might as well have been a ghost town. “Where the hell are you, Dave?” he mumbled to himself.

  Making his way down the aft stairwell, he entered the CQB training area. Rather than walking through all of the rooms that were set up, he strained his ears but couldn’t hear anybody.

  With a groan, Hammer backtracked and made his way topside. Finding Chad ‘Mac’ McKenzie assisting the tech crew run new cabling he caught the man’s attention. “Have you seen Marshall?”

  Mac thought for a moment then pointed him toward the other end of the hangar. “They’re collecting the dead for cremation down there. I’m pretty sure I saw him helping them load body bags.”

  Hammer scratched at the side of his head and turned toward the deuce and half parked at the north end of the hangar. As he rounded the stack of crates between himself and truck he found Marshall loading bodies in the back of the truck, pausing after each one to mumble a short prayer and perform the sign of the cross over the body. “I didn’t know you were the religious type.”

  Marshall gave him a sheepish grin and nodded. “Yeah, well, after all the things we’ve seen and heard, it just seemed the natural choice.”

  Hammer watched him reach for the next body bag and he grabbed the other end, helping him stack the body into the back of the truck. “I thought you were in a hurry to catch your soaps.”

  Marshall paused and blew out a long breath. “I didn’t want to say anything because…”

  “What? You were afraid we’d rib you?”

  “Pfft. Like I’d care about that.” He turned back to the body recently added to the stack and repeated the same short prayer and sign of the cross. Turning back to Hammer, he shrugged. “I guess I was afraid you’d try to stop me.”

  “Nobody ever tried to stop the Padre.”

  “But he was a man of God.” Dave searched the larger man’s face. “I mean, he was…ordained or something, right?”

  Hammer shrugged. “Beats me.” He crossed his arms and smirked at Marshall. “Would it matter if another person gave him permission to serve?” Neils could almost see the light bulb go off in Marshall’s head. “The Padre did what he believed was right. Nobody would dare try to stop him from that. Even if they disagreed with him.”

  Marshall leaned against the truck and ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t see how anybody who fought in the desert with us could possibly disagree with him. I mean, we had a vampire who was once one of Christ’s disciples. We had a werewolf who was there when he died on the cross. Both were cursed to live forever. Fathers of their own cursed lines. Both of them had seen things that…” his voice trailed off.

  “Don’t strain your brain trying to figure it out, buddy.” Hammer clapped his shoulder. “People have argued for and against the whole God-no God, religion versus nature thing for centuries. If you’ve found something that works for you, run with it. Just don’t let it get between you and your job.”

  “No, never. I just,” He paused and turned back to the bodies. “I felt like they needed somebody to say something over them.” He turned back to Neils and his eyes began to redden. “That Carbone needed someone to…say…”

  Hammer nodded and gave the man’s shoulder a squeeze. “I understand, I truly do.” He turned back to the remaining bodies. “Let’s finish up here so the techs can do their jobs.”

  The two men finished loading the bags into the truck, each being treated to a personal prayer from Marshall while Hammer watched on.

  I’m sure they all appreciate the thought if nothing else. Neils thought.

  *****

  “Our forces are gathering. We’ll have a small army here before morning.” Paul slipped back into his chair and eyed his brother. “How are you feeling?”

  “I feel angry.” Rufus stood and paced the small office. “I haven’t fed on human blood in so long that…” He shuddered, and Paul felt the wave of energy ripple from him. A ripple that cause the hair on the back of his neck to stand on end. “I’m finding it difficult to fight the urge to hunt.”

  “How long were you on animal blood?” Paul’s voice was barely a whisper, his question more rhetorical than anything.

  “Too long.” A growl came from deep in Rufus’ chest. He turned and shot his brother a feral stare. “I crave more.”

  “Then you aren’t through healing.” Paul rose and waved Marco in. The large man all but trotted into the office with the cooler in hand. “You need to finish healing so we can get you back onto your special mixture.” Paul stifled his smile as he reached into the cooler and withdrew another bag. “Here. Feed.”

  Rufus tore into the bag and sucked it flat in short order. Paul was standing by with another when the first was simply dropped to the ground. “Hmm. Perhaps we should get you a live donor in here. Let you feed from a source with more than one unit in it?”

  Rufus sucked greedily from the plastic bag, his eyes darting side to side. “Non. I do not think I can control…” He sat on the makeshift bed and rolled his eyes back into his head. “I need more.”

  Paul looked to Marco and gave a slight nod. Marco nervously set the cooler down beside Paul and slipped from the room. He re
entered a moment later with a woman in tow. Her hands were bound behind her, her mouth taped shut. “Oh, look at what Marco found. A ‘donor’.” Paul slipped from his chair and practically glided to the door. He wrapped an arm around the quivering young woman and escorted her into the room. “Look, brother, a donor.”

  Rufus’ eyes shot open as soon as he smelled the human. He could sense her fear and it excited him even more. He dropped the nearly empty bag of blood and stared at her, his fangs still extended. “Where did you...”

  “She volunteered, didn’t you, sweetheart?” Paul’s hand gripped the back of her neck and gently nodded her head for her even though her tears and sniveling told a different story. He bent her head to the side, exposing her neck. “And look, she wants you to get better brother. She wants you to feed from her.”

  Rufus’ hands shook as he reached for the half naked young woman. “I do not think I can stop if I…”

  “Do not worry, brother. I will help you.” Paul’s voice sounded like silk as it slid across the room and caressed Rufus’ ears. “Just enough to help you heal.”

  “Oui. Just enough to help me heal.”

  He rose slowly from the mattress and reached for the woman. She tried to recoil from his cold touch but Paul held her tight. Rufus launched himself and was attached to her neck in a moment. The initial shock and fear gave way to a moan of ecstasy as he sunk his fangs into her and began to feed. She melted in Paul’s grip and he had to increase his hold to keep her upright. Eventually, he let go and allowed Rufus to hold her while he fed.

  Marco stood in the doorway and watched the macabre dance. His hands shook with both fear and anger as he watched Mr. Foster manipulate his master. Rufus was obviously out of his mind to do such a thing, but to have Paul coerce him so? Marco couldn’t stop watching. He saw Paul slowly turn and give him a smile that made his blood run cold. He knew exactly what he was doing.

  When Rufus let go of the girl and she tumbled to the floor, her ashen skin the color of death, Marco knew he had crossed that line that he swore he’d never cross again. Marco lowered his eyes and prayed to whatever god would listen that Rufus would get his rightful mind returned.

  Rufus stood and stretched his arms outward. He could feel his bones knit back together, his internal organs heal and the last of his burns return to normal skin once again. “It is finished.”

  “Yes, it is.” Paul kicked the body of the girl aside and leaned against the desk. “So…tell me, brother, how do you feel now?”

  Rufus turned and glared at him with feral eyes. “I feel like a vampire once more.”

  *****

  Lilith paced slowly while Damien remained prostrated on the floor. “I need you to fetch me things.” She stopped and placed a heel on his shoulder. “You can do this, can you not?”

  “What do you need, mistress? Tell me so that I might please you.”

  She watched him patiently, waiting for him to lift his eyes to

  bask in her radiance. When he didn’t, she smiled to herself and removed her foot. “I am in need of ingredients for a spell. You can obtain these things, yes?”

  “Or die trying, mistress.”

  She kicked him hard across the ribs and sent him sprawling. “There is a difference in blind obedience and proficiency. I need somebody capable of getting me what I need.” She bent down and pulled him to her face by his shirt. “Can you do this or are you a liability?”

  “I can do this, mistress.” Damien choked as she tightened her grip on him. “I swear I can.”

  She threw him to the ground and stood over him. She watched him carefully and knew she had him when Damien’s eyes finally broke from the ground and glanced up at her still naked form. He turned slowly and stared at the body he had fallen in love with and his breath came in choking gasps as he stared. “Eyes to the ground.” She stepped over him and watched him scramble to press his forehead to the cold concrete once more.

  Lilith stared off to the west and considered the physical things she would need. “A white dove. A raven. Two runestones. A silver chalice. A dagger. Four black candles. Salt. Lots of salt.” She turned quickly to Damien’s prone body. Can you remember that?”

  “Yes, m’lady. I have it.” He began crawling away from her and toward the door.

  “Stand like a man or you’ll be baked in the sun before you can finish.”

  Damien pulled himself to his feet and bowed deeply to her. “As you will, so mote it be.”

  “And hurry, Damien. My legions await.”

  8

  Tracy slipped back into Mark’s room and quietly shut the door behind her. She leaned against the cold metal and stared at his still form on the bed, her mind traveling back to the first time they met. The first time he screwed up the courage to ask her out. Their first kiss. When he asked her to marry him. Their first child…his travels with the Corps. She lowered her head and squeezed her eyes shut. Her hand slipped into her coat pocket and her fingertips brushed the cold metal of the revolver.

  “I didn’t hear you come back.” He sounded as if he had been swallowing sand. She lifted her face and tried to hide her grief.

  “Let me get you a drink.” She stepped beside his bed and poured a cup of water. Placing a straw into the cup, she bent it so that he could sip from it. “Drink it slowly.”

  He stared at her a moment, refusing to take the straw. “Did you get it?”

  “Drink the damned water, Tufo, before I shove my foot up your ass.” She pushed the straw closer to his mouth and watched as he swallowed a mouthful. He choked slightly and coughed, then went back for more.

  Once he had finished and she had retaken her seat he turned rummy eyes to her again. “Did you?”

  “Maybe I’m not ready to let you go that far.” Her voice was firm, her jaw set. “If Matt can live with this…whatever the hell it is, then you can, too.”

  Mark shook his head slowly, his eyes closing. “Matt doesn’t have a family that he could infect.”

  “So don’t bite anybody.” She sat stiffly in the chair and stared down at him in his bed. “It’s really not that difficult. It’s not like you’re home that much anyway, are you? You’re always here with your nose up Matt’s ass and…” her voice cracked and she choked up. Her hand went to her mouth to stop her from saying anything else she might regret.

  “No, don’t hold back. Tell me how you really feel.”

  “Fine. Maybe I will.” She refused to look at him and stared at the bag of saline hanging from the hook above his head. “I’ve decided that even though you’re a major pain in my ass, I’d rather keep you around.”

  Mark grunted and she wasn’t sure if it was a laugh or a grunt of displeasure. “Pain in your ass?”

  “Besides, Tufo, you’re worth more dead than alive.” She finally cracked a sarcastic smile at him. “Remember, we cashed in your life insurance years ago to pay for college tuition, and now that you’re back with the squads, your military life insurance isn’t squat.”

  “You can’t be serious.” He slowly rolled a bit on the bed to better see her. “This isn’t a game, Trace. This is the real deal here.”

  “And what you’re asking of me is a permanent solution to a temporary problem.”

  “Temporary?” Mark’s voice rose to almost a shout. “There’s no cure for this. This is anything but temporary.”

  “You know what I mean.” She pointed a finger at him. “I’m not letting you take the coward’s way out. There has to be ways to deal with this.”

  Mark sighed and slumped deeper into the uncomfortable mattress. “Like what? Lock myself in the silver cells downstairs every full moon?”

  Tracy turned and stared at him. “There are silver cells downstairs?”

  Mark’s eyes widened as he realized he had just stepped in it. “No.”

  She started slapping at him, causing him to wince as he tried to defend himself from her blows. “You son of a bitch! You had me thinking you were going to be tear-assing through the house and hiking on the
furniture, and biting people. And all this time there are silver cells in the basement?”

  Mark groaned as he did his best to defend himself from her blows. “I’m hurt here. Please—”

  “I’m gonna kill you, you goofy…” she stopped hitting him and pulled him closer, wrapping her arms around him. “You, stupid, selfless, goofy…” she cried as she started kissing him about the face.

  “So you’re not going to shoot me?”

  “Pull something like that on me again and I will.”

  *****

  “We’re about ready to leave. Has anybody seen Kalen?” Jack asked as he turned a slow circle in the middle of the courtyard.

  “Last I saw, he was walking the majority of the others back through a large boulder.” Gus pointed to the boulder that the group had come through earlier.

  “Have everybody gather their gear and muster out here. We’re gonna travel back through the portal.”

  “What about the chopper? It’s inbound now. Should be here any time.” Gus glanced out over the ocean in the general direction of the shore. “There should be plenty of room for who’s left.”

  Jack shook his head. “I’m going to direct them to strip the bodies here of weaponry and anything that might help point us to who sent them. By the time they bag what’s left, that transport will be stuffed with gear.”

  Gus scratched at his chin. “Do you really think we can track them down just off what these guys might be carrying? Most mercs strip themselves of anything identifying.”

  “Do you really think these guys were mercs? I mean, did any of them fight like they were trained soldiers?” Jack pointed to the sheer number of dead that the wolves were now stacking behind the castle proper for burial and disposal. “They nearly overwhelmed just because there was so damned many of them. But I’d bet a month’s pay, none of them were pros.”

  “Point taken,” Gus agreed. “And you said something about their weapons?”