The Fall: Sanguine Series: Book One

by Chris Laughton

  “I don’t actually know her, Mason, but it’s rare that we find someone qualified and able to do what we do in any field. This place needs to be covert; it can’t be Grand Central Station with people coming and going all the time, so there are extensive batteries of tests to ensure someone can handle the long stretches underground without seeing daylight. There’s the issue of what exactly she could do here. Could she be a research assistant to Eugene? A mechanic? A gunsmith? Let’s say we even just brought her on as a cook. Is that the life you want for her? Even as a cook, this job has risks; it’s not exactly the safest line of work. We don’t just hunt vampires, we now keep one here in our home. We believe she’s safe and on our side, but if we’re wrong, we all agreed to the risk-,”

  “Or at least fell in line when I told them,” Trevor amended.

  Simone continued, ignoring the interruption, “and we have the training and ability to defend ourselves if she goes sideways. Would Rebekah? Would you want her to?”

  Mason was looking at the floor in the center of their little meeting. She had prepared for this, that much was obvious, but he couldn’t disagree with any point she was making. And there were a lot of them.

  Simone pressed her advantage. “You won’t always be here with her, and I don’t think you want her hunting them down out there with you.”

  “No,” Mason answered, pointlessly. This time Simone paused for a moment, letting Mason mull over her words.

  Trevor added, “All of us would rather be living as civilians, but we feel a sense of duty, of obligation, to see this through. This is the kind of job that ages you. It burns you out. I’m sorry that you don’t really have a great alternative to casting your lot in with ours, but she does.”

  Simone concluded, “You’re a high value target for Alexander. Anybody near you has a higher chance of being collateral damage. You came here to keep her safe. Bringing her here would do the opposite.”

  Mason sighed. They were right, no matter how rehearsed this tag-team was. Wanting her here was a purely selfish, shortsighted desire. She was safer, and would eventually probably be happier, living her life in the city, even if it meant not seeing him again. Then again, if he truly was as game-changing as they seemed to think, perhaps he could have this wrapped up quickly and get back to her. He glanced at Aidan. Between the two of them, they should be able to handle this fairly easily. How hard could it be? He tried to tell himself that seeing her again would be motivation, or that maybe she’d move on faster than he thought, but he’d never been any good at lying to himself. It wasn’t egotistical for him to say that him disappearing would crush her: it was going to crush him too, and he at least knew the whole story.

  Mason took his phone out and looked at the blank screen. “Do you have somewhere I could get signal? I am not going to enjoy this phone call.”

  “I wouldn’t make it,” Simone told him.

  Mason raised an eyebrow at her, concerned about what heart-wrenching point she’d make next.

  She continued, “Think about it. This girl’s pretty into you, right?”

  Mason nodded. “I’d like to think so.”

  “So if you call her, she’ll see it as you choosing us over her. It doesn’t matter how you phrase it; it’s what she’ll think. Maybe not while you’re talking to her, maybe not even right away, but eventually she’ll break it down to be that simple. If you just disappear, it’ll hurt her like hell, but she won’t feel abandoned. She’ll convince herself that someone got to you, that you’re dead. As painful as thought will be for her, there will be comfort in thinking there’s nothing she could have done to avoid her pain. And most importantly, she’ll move on. Eventually.” Yet again, she was making a lot of sense, and it wasn’t what Mason wanted to hear. He knew what he meant to Rebekah. If she knew he was out there and working to get back to her, there was a significant risk she’d stagnate. She wouldn’t do anything with her life while she just waited for him. Or worse: she’d come looking for him. He stood up out of his chair and put his hands on the side of his head.

  “Jesus, so the last time I talked to her will actually be the last time?” he asked, understanding now exactly what he had signed himself up for.

  Simone tried to appear sympathetic. “At least for now.”

  Mason paced behind their circle of chairs. “Why is it every time I meet with you people, my entire life gets blown apart?” he asked rhetorically.

  Trevor smiled. “Well how about we start talking about killing Alexander and you can get back to that life of yours?”

  That was an easy question for Mason. “Hell yes.”

  42

  Rebekah knew Paul had a lot of questions, but she wasn’t in the mood to try to answer them. They’d just driven in silence for miles now. The cabin had been a complete mess. There was a lot of blood in the cellar, and the storm doors leading to it had been badly damaged. The bed frame was thrown haphazardly in the hallway. The entry door had been left wide open with snow swirling around the place. She’d be panicking even more than she was if she hadn’t seen Mason after he went to the cabin.

  None of it made any sense. What the hell had happened here? Why hadn’t Mason told her about it? Why hadn’t the old couple that handled the rental come out here and seen this? She had to believe that if they knew about this, the door would at least be closed, heck, her and Paul had closed it on their way out. It seemed like the least they could do. No matter what scenario she concocted it only seemed to explain 90% of what she’d seen and was ruled out by the other 10%.

  She was thankful to Paul for driving her to the rental office now. This was a lot, even for a guy who agreed to let her hitch a ride with him and kept saying he wasn’t in a hurry to be anywhere. She wanted to let him know she appreciated his kindness, but she didn’t have the energy. Not with everything else on her mind. Maybe the rental office would answer her questions. Maybe all of that damage at the cabin had taken place after Mason left. Maybe he really was just lost in his own thoughts. There was still quite a bit she didn’t know about him, after all. There could be some crisis he was dealing with that he hadn’t even hinted at before. It all just being a huge coincidence wasn’t a ridiculous explanation: a cabin getting trashed in the middle of nowhere was hardly the worst crime committed in this world these days.

  Paul started slowing the truck before Rebekah realized they’d arrived at the office. She wasn’t even sure what she was going to ask, but hopefully she’d get some answers. She unbuckled her seat belt and placed her hand on the door handle. “Listen, Paul, thank you,” she told him before exiting. It was insufficient, but she wasn’t sure what else to say.

  Paul scoffed. “Don’t worry about me, you figure out whatever’s going on with your friend. Do you want me to come in with you?”

  “No, it’s fine. I don’t even know what I’m hoping to find,” she told him as she got out of the car and felt the snow crunching under her boots. She felt another pang of guilt at having to leave Paul in the car, but she was probably going to have use Mason’s name when she talked to someone here, and Paul still thought her friend was a woman. If she could go back in time, she would’ve been more honest with him, but she wasn’t sure exactly how she’d get back to civilization if Paul found out she had lied and left her. “I won’t be long.” She could see her breath in the air as she put on her stocking cap. The sun had just gone down, but it was going to be a chilly night.

  She walked over, opened the door to the office, and heard its bell announce her arrival. There was nobody in the room, and the lights were off. “Hello?” she asked. This really felt like she wasn’t supposed to be here, but if she announced herself, it somehow made her feel better. Like anyone listening would know she wasn’t trying to sneak in.

  She heard some rustling from an adjacent room and a light flipped on that shone through the doorway on the opposite wall. Now that her eyes had adjusted to the dark a little and had some light to work with, she looked around. It was a small office with a map rack by the desk
and a plate of cookies on the counter. She walked over and grabbed one of the cookies, realizing she hadn’t eaten in hours. She tried to take a bite, but it was hard as a rock. These must have been sitting out for a week before she grabbed one. She looked around, but didn’t know what to do with it, so she put it back on the plate. She turned her attention to one of the maps and grabbed it off the rack. It was of this region and printed after The Fall, so it could be quite useful, especially since Rebekah wasn’t sure where she’d be heading next. She had it unfolded on the counter when the old man that must have run the place came through the doorway, hitting the light switch for the office as he entered. Rebekah was forced to squint for a moment.

  “I’m sorry, I wasn’t sure if I could be in here,” she offered.

  The old man smiled as he cleared his throat and blinked a few times. Had she woken him? It must be nice to live all the way up here, without much reason to not just take a nap if you felt like it. He looked exactly like Mason had described.

  “Of course, of course,” he said, glancing past her at the still-running SUV with Paul in the driver’s seat. He sniffed the air before noticing the look Rebekah was giving him and switched to sniffling as if he had a head cold. “Your friend wouldn’t like to come in from the cold?”

  Rebekah looked back over her shoulder. “Oh no, he’s fine in the car. I was actually hoping you could help me.”

  The old man flashed that same creepy smile. “Of course. You’d like a cabin?” He started shuffling through some papers on the counter.

  “No, actually I had some questions about a previous rental. The cabin we were at looks pretty beat up. The door was wide open when we drove by, so we checked it out, and it looks like there might have been a fight there. I think my boyfriend was the last one to rent it,” she stopped when she saw how the old man had gone stiff when she said that.

  He slowly looked up at her, still with the wax-statue smile. “And what was his name?”

  She was getting more creeped out by the second, but this guy was her best bet at getting information. “Mason. Mason Rayne.”

  The old man appeared to have a light bulb go off. “Of course. Mason Rayne. Is he the driver?” The old man gestured towards Paul still sitting in the SUV outside.

  “No, I’m actually trying to find him,” she said and noted that the old man was visibly disappointed. “It’s been a few days and I’m getting worried.”

  “I see. Well I’m sorry, but there isn’t much I can tell you. He came, he rented the cabin, and he left. It was fine when I checked it out. We do sometimes get drifters that come through and trash a place. It must have been one of them. I could take your name and number in case I think of anything?”

  The old man had gone from creepy to dangerous. Alarm bells were ringing all over her mind telling her something wasn’t right here. The man didn’t seem concerned at all about his cabin, but was far too interested in who she and Paul were. There was no way she was going to give him her name or number. “That’s ok. I’m sure he’ll turn up in a few days.” She started to back towards the door, trying to appear calm, though her panic level was rising. She’d instinctively taken the map with her, but if the old man minded, he wasn’t showing any signs of it.

  “I certainly hope so,” he said. She really wished he’d stop smiling. He was coming out from behind the counter as Rebekah got to the door and she couldn’t contain her fear any longer. She turned, threw the door open and ran to the SUV, opening her door and getting in as quickly as she could.

  “Did you find any-,” Paul started, but she cut him off.

  “Just drive. This is all wrong. We need to get out of here,” she said as she heard her own anxiety. Paul didn’t wait to understand what had her so spooked, and put it in drive, gunning it and throwing snow up behind them. She looked in the rearview mirror and saw the old man standing outside the door, arms crossed, watching them leave, still smiling. He was unearthly still, though he was not dressed for the temperature at all. No steam rose from his mouth.

  43

  Kai was nervous. His boss wasn’t exactly happy with him at the moment. Still, he’d made the call to report what he’d found. “I have good news,” he said into the phone.

  “You have the man,” Alexander said it more as an implied requirement.

  Kai continued, trying to ignore his boss’s lofty expectation and imminent disappointment. “No, but I have his name. Mason Rayne.”

  Alexander sounded unimpressed. “Well that’s something at least. What did the name give you?”

  “Are you kidding me? I’m lucky this old man had a landline that still works to call you from. I’m not getting signal up here,” Kai was hoping this added drawback to his present post would get Alexander to move him.

  “Alright, hang on,” Alexander said as Kai heard him start typing away on his phone. After a short time, Alexander continued, “it doesn’t get us much. He stays fairly off the grid apparently, not even an address. He works for a firm that was contracted by a restaurant in Seattle, but that sounds like it was weeks ago. God damn it! If I still had Gabriel and his team, I’m sure they could just hack some computer or other get me more.” The loss of Gabriel had been a sore subject for Alexander, and Kai winced at his anger. Alexander continued, “I hope you have better news than just the name.”

  Kai responded, “I do. His girlfriend just stopped by looking for him. We have him spooked. He’s dropped out of contact with her as well.” Somehow Maya’s vision of Mason had been clear as a bell, but his girlfriend looked nothing like the image Kai had seen.

  Alexander sighed. “So you found a woman who also doesn’t know where Mason is, but could tell you that he’s gone to ground and will be more difficult to find than ever? I’m struggling to see the good news…”

  “You saw Maya’s vision. These two are close. He’ll come for her, and I have a tracker on her car.” As the woman fled, Kai had thrown it onto the bumper where it immediately adhered itself. It wasn’t well-place to avoid detection, but luckily it was the same black as the SUV, and had no sharp corners. Perhaps it would blend in well enough to go unnoticed.

  The line was silent for a moment. “Send me the tracker key.”

  Kai’s enthusiasm waned. “You don’t want me to follow her?”

  “No, you’ve given me a tenuous lead at best. I’ll try to use her to flush him out. Either she can bring him out of hiding, or she isn’t useful anyway. There isn’t much point in handling her gently. I need you at the cabin in case something else turns up. Nobody else can do that job.”

  Kai tried to hide his disappointment. “I’ll have to leave to get signal to send you the key. There haven’t been any renters yet either, so I’m starting to get hungry.”

  Alexander sighed. “I’m not your babysitter, Kai. I don’t care what you do moment to moment. Just don’t leave the cabin for longer than necessary.”

  “Yes sir. How long do you think I’ll be here?” Kai replied.

  “You’re thirtieth birthday is in just a couple of weeks, right?” Alexander responded.

  Kai had to stop and do the math. “Yeah, I guess so.”

  “Then stay there for the couple weeks. Eat some cabin renters. Gather your strength. I have a plan you’ll be working on after that that may kill two birds with one stone. Without Maya’s visions, we need to step up our timetable regardless of whether or not we get Mason. We’ll talk soon.”

  Kai heard the click of the disconnect. What was so special about turning thirty and what plan was Alexander working on now?

  EPILOGUE

  Trey enjoyed his job, not that his superiors cared or even realized it was a factor. They would be quite surprised just to learn he’d taken to calling himself Trey. He’d forgotten his given name long ago, and just taken a syllable from what his superiors called him. He’d forgotten much more than just his name: if someone had a plausible explanation for how he could’ve been created without being “born” in the traditional sense of the word, none of his remaining
memories would’ve let him argue the point.

  It was comforting to have a name. Everything that was aware of itself must inevitably move towards having a name, as there was no functional reason for him to have one, or at least, not a name that didn’t change with each mission. He knew that Trey meant “three” and it had seemed appropriate when he evaluated it for his moniker. He assumed he had lived a normal life before the second one he now inhabited. There was a third life on the horizon whenever his superiors were finished tinkering with him. That third life would, somewhat ironically, probably have no need for the name Trey.

  That life would wait at least a little longer though. He had been called to duty by the Consortium, and so now he moved through the hallways and crowds. He had little interaction with the other denizens of the island beyond these walks, but they knew who and what he was, his black uniform informing those who didn’t recognize him, and so he was granted a wide berth wherever he went. Everyone stared without looking; their eyes turned to the floor and their barely-used shoes. Their pace was unhurried, but their rigidity gave away their uneasiness in his presence. They contorted their bodies ever so slightly in their pressed uniforms in assorted colors denoting their station, grateful for every inch between them and him. Conversations paused as he approached and didn’t resume until the participants had moved past him. Everyone seemed to hold their breath until he was a safe distance away. He was the stone that the river of people flowed around.

  He began his walk in “his” area: that part of this building that the Consortium had designated for him and those like him. He moved from it and its various security systems through this populated area where he could catch glimpses of the island through windows. Gleaming skyscrapers rose toward the heavens, their entire surface shiny without being reflective: every available surface was a solar cell, gathering the energy to store in the island’s massive batteries that powered it all. He could see the docks humming with activity as their cargo ships arrived and unloaded the resources the island could never provide on its own. As advanced as their farming, construction and health care systems were, no amount of technology could create mineral deposits where there were none. Had he been a curious man, he would’ve noted how this island seemed like a fire that could never be quenched. No matter how many massive freighters brought tons of materials, its appetite was never sated. It took little to keep the island’s existing structures in like-new condition, after all, it was dreamed up by people obsessed with efficiency. But the construction never ceased, and most likely wouldn’t until the Consortium was satisfied the island was completely self-sufficient.