Sanctuary_Bloodlines_Book 1

by C. L. Stevens

  He was still clean-shaven with closely cropped hair jet-black hair. His normal if somewhat handsome features identical to her mental picture. She even recognized the clothes he was wearing. It seemed like she had been gone so long but obviously, that was only her perception.

  “Are you hanging in there Desiree?” He asked, looking at her leg with unmasked concern. She almost didn't recognize the name. It sounded queer to her ears. She was so accustomed to being addressed only by her last name, that it took her a second to respond.

  “I’m fine,” She replied finally. She hugged him again.

  “Well, we won't be walking around too much today,” He promised. “Just be sure to let me know if it starts to hurt or you get tired.”

  She nodded, the gesture looking more than a bit equivocal.

  “I'm serious Desiree. You tell me if it starts to bother you even a little.”

  “Don't worry dad,” She said reassuringly. “If it starts to hurt, you and everyone within a quarter mile would notice.”

  She spent the next half hour or so introducing her father to some of her battle buddies, but before too long it was obvious that her dad wanted to go.

  “So, what's first on the docket today Desiree?” He asked as he opened the car door for her.

  He helped her struggle into her seat and put her crutches in the back.

  It was only around 10:30 in the morning but the breakfast she had devoured only a few hours earlier seemed to have done nothing to satiate her hunger. Being with her dad had a benefit she had not thought of before this. She did not have to worry about what he thought of her. She didn't have to pretend. There were no worries of her father thinking of her as a pig or greedy as there might have been with her Army battle-buddies.

  “I’m starving dad,” She confided. “Let's grab an early lunch.”

  Funny thing was, she seemed to be perpetually hungry the last few days. She always had a healthy appetite so to speak, but lately, all she seemed to think about was food. There hadn't been a crumb left on her tray recently. She had even eaten the horrid coleslaw yesterday!

  “What are you in the mood for?” her dad asked.

  He always asked her opinion when a decision needed to be made. His attempts to make her more assertive she supposed. The usual way was for them to go back and forth about where they would eat, but today there would be none of that.

  “We can stop at the first place that serves decent sized burgers that we come across.” She said in reply. “Fried, charbroiled, fast food or sit-down restaurant, makes no difference as long as they have at least 1/4-pound patties.”

  Her dad laughed. “Are they starving you guys in there or something?” He asked still smiling. “I thought they fed soldiers well.”

  She shrugged noncommittally.

  “Well, there's a CJ’s near the hotel I am staying in.” He offered. “We can use their WIFI to check what time movies are showing.”

  She didn't bother telling him that she could have easily looked it up on her phone then and there. Cell phones were a sore point with him. He was probably the only adult in America without one.

  “We could have floating cars, robot helpers or even Holodecks by now, but instead all our technological ideas go to stupid cellphones.” He would say. The same words she had heard from him countless times, though at least the things he imagined us losing changed Intermittently.

  Her personal favorite was 3d televisions. And not the cheesy crap that you see in movie theaters or the even more pathetic versions they have in gimmick TVs at home. True three-dimensional images. Devices with no screens at all. Just holographic images that could be adjusted from a few inches tall to larger than life-size. Now that would be quite awesome.

  “Carl's Jr sounds like a plan to me.” she agreed. “Superstar with cheese here I come! I wonder if they would let me order one with 3 patties.” She mused.

  “What can we make you?” A Hispanic woman with a mop of short dark hair inquired of them a short time later. She was about her own age she guessed, but with the woman's heavy makeup one could hardly tell. She also appeared to have been sneaking a bite of every hamburger and stealing a few fries from every combo she sold.

  “A number 2.” She said, looking at the menu.

  “The combo. Large.” She said in reply to the large woman's next 2 inquiries.

  Her father eyed her quizzically but she pretended not to notice. She never ordered large combos, but she was very hungry. She felt as if her stomach was trying to eat a hole clear through her middle.

  “Don't forget to add no onions.” Her dad chimed in helpfully. She nodded her assent to the woman, though in truth, the thought of onions on her burger did not displease her for once.

  After her dad made his order, they grabbed their drinks and took a seat near one of the TVs. They were playing some horrible 80s song at the moment so she only listened with half an ear.

  There was little conversation as they ate and before she knew it, the hamburger was gone and she was pulling the last fry from its carton. Ironically, some anorexic teenager was on TV singing some drivel about her love being gone too soon.

  You ain't never lied girl.

  When her dad stood up and began piling their trash onto the tray, she hurriedly took it from him.

  “I got it dad.” she offered.

  “Don't be silly. You have your hands full with those crutches.” He said as he attempted the move the tray out of her reach.

  “I can do it!” She snapped. She felt her cheeks growing hot and smoothed her tone. “I'm sorry dad, I am just frustrated. It seems like everyone thinks I am too weak to even wipe my own butt.” She finished, with a little of the bitterness she actually felt bleeding through.

  “They wipe your butt for you?” He asked in a scandalized tone.

  “What?! No!” She stammered, waving her arms in an attempt at more denial but stopped when she saw that he was laughing and realized that he was only joking.

  “Thanks, sweetie.” He said, laughter still heavy in his eyes as he handed her the tray. She took it clumsily.

  On her way to dump the tray she surreptitiously wolfed down the dozen or so fries he had left uneaten. This stuff costs too much to just throw it away.

  “I need to visit the restroom really quickly,” Her dad called. “I'll meet you near the car.”

  She nodded absently. Her thoughts were on the words he said previously. When he had called her sweetie, it was the first time he had done so since she left for boot camp. At least if her memory served her correctly. She went over their conversations today and all the phone calls over the last 6 or 7 weeks. She couldn't be 100% sure, at least about those earlier phone calls, but she didn't think he had addressed her as anything other than her name. Usually, she heard Sweetie, Sunshine, Princess or even chicken pock more often than her name when he addressed her. Her favorite though was precious little Ravioli. Why the change? Does it mean anything or am I just seeing too much in this?

  After lunch, they went to his hotel room for about an hour or so to burn some time before the movie started. The time breezed by as she told him different stories of her time in boot camp. Her dad was the perfect audience, laughing and gasping in surprise at all the right moments.

  It was pushing 1 pm when they left the hotel.

  “Isn't it time for you to take your pain meds?” Her dad asked as he took a sip from his Carl's Jr soft drink.

  It was past time she realized, but her leg didn't really hurt. It itched more than anything. She took her dose with a swig from her own cup. She knew how the pain could suddenly come out of nowhere and wanted to be prepared.

  The rest of the day passed by so quickly that she felt that she hardly had time to enjoy herself. Before she knew it, he was dropping her off. I still have one more day… one more day.

  “So, what did you think of my dad?” She asked Green and another girl she sometimes spoke to named Gomez a little later that night. “Handsome, right?”

  “Sure,” Gomez replie
d.

  “He’s OK for an old guy I guess,” Green added in an obvious attempt to mollify her. She sat down next to Jones on the bench and put her arm around her in a half hug.

  Jones smiled mischievously.

  “Are you saying that you don't want to be my mother now?” Desiree asked in mock surprise and trepidation. She put her head on her friends middle and began to whine in a mockingly absurd child's voice.

  “Mama… maaammmaaa.”

  They all roared with laughter.

  The three of them chewed the fat for a bit before the other girls were called to formations. Desiree decided to use the ladies room before she returned to the Gimp. She was making her way down the stairs when she lost her balance and went tumbling down the last 5 or 6 steps. Her startled yelp combined with the clatter of the crutches almost made enough noise to put the entire camp on combat alert. A group of her battle buddies came running after she managed to pick herself up and gather her crutches.

  “Damn girl, it sounded like someone dropped a refrigerator full of food down the stairs. Are you all right?” She heard someone ask.

  She also heard a few girls snickering but she wasn't sure if they were laughing at her or the joke. She couldn't help but smile herself. The girl that bunked right next to her, Gomez, pushed her way to her and took her by the arm as if to support her.

  “What happened? Is your leg OK?” Gomez inquired, peering at her up and down.

  “Nothing” She lied. “I’m fine. I only dropped one of my crutches halfway down the stairs.”

  “Well, be careful. You don't want to break your leg.”

  “It's already broken,” Desiree replied sarcastically.

  “Bitch, you know what I mean.” Gomez retorted, shaking her short, dark-haired head with reproach. “Break it worse.”

  Desiree walked back to her area without really seeing anything. She had fallen hard. Very hard if the pain in her butt was any indication. And her leg didn't hurt at all. At least no more than the rest of her. She gingerly probed at her broken leg with a finger and when she felt no pain, squeezed with her entire hand. Nothing.

  She leaned the crutches against the wall as she half hopped on her good leg, peered around to make sure there was no one watching and slowly put her weight on her broken leg. No pain. She put more and more pressure until she found herself lightly stomping the foot. Nothing. Feeling unusually bold, she took all her weight off her uninjured leg and stood up on the broken one. Not a hint of pain or discomfort.

  She heard someone coming down the hall and quickly scooped up the crutches and lifted the weight from her broken leg. Am I going crazy?

  She lay on her narrow bed, her mind racing. She waited until lights out before she unwrapped the gauze and removed the padding from her injured leg under her blankets. She ran her hand over the area on her leg where they had made the incision for the surgery. It was smooth as a baby’s bottom. There didn't even appear to be a scar. At least she didn't feel any and she knew that her delicate hands were remarkably sensitive. What the fuck is going on?

  The next morning during the graduation ceremony for passing boot camp, everyone in the auditorium stood and clapped when she came forward to shout her name and rank. The sergeant had mentioned to the crowd what she had done during her P.T. run and had gone on and on about how that kind of effort and tenacity was the embodiment of what it meant to be an Army soldier. She was extremely disconcerted when the entire crowd gave her a standing ovation as she pretended to hobble out on her crutches to say her name and rank at the podium. She looked for her father but could not make him out among the sea of faces. She did see Green however and the girl’s genuine smile put a little strength in her.

  Through it all, her leg was always at the forefront of her thoughts. She wasn't sure how it happened, but she knew that she would not be able to hide it long. The first doctor or nurse to check on it would be sure to notice the lack of injury.

  Barring the unlikely chance that she was unknowingly a superhero or an alien, someone had done this to her. During the actual surgery would have been the most probable time. She had been unconscious for hours. They could have done anything to her during that time and she would have been none the wiser.

  Her first thought while lying in bed half the night was that the U.S. Army secretly did this for all soldiers. She quickly gave up on that idea though it would have been the one she wanted to be true. She had barely passed most of her physical tests with a score of 60, while others passed with perfect scores of 300. Some of the women housed in the Gimp with her right now had scored 300 or near enough on their tests and had been there for weeks. A few had been there when she arrived 10 weeks ago and she had seen their injuries go unchanged all this time with her own eyes. Well, at least not the dramatic change like in her own injury. Surely, they would have chosen them over her. Besides, she was Army Reserves, not full enlist. She would be working in human resources for the army when it was all said and done, not in combat.

  She tossed around a thousand ideas in her head that night and discarded them all. The only thing to come of it was the certain knowledge that someone was going to find out about her leg and definitely sooner rather than later.

  CHAPTER 3

  When she saw her father at the end of the hour-long ceremonies, it only took about a 10th of a second for her to decide to tell him. The only thing she was waiting for was for them to be alone and completely away from Fort Sill. That had taken a good deal longer than she had anticipated. Several of her battle buddie’s families wanted to talk with her and congratulate her for crawling across the finish line during her test. She was more than a bit surprised by it all. Everyone was treating her like a celebrity.

  When they were finally able to leave, they went directly to the hotel at her request. Her dad was smarter than most. She prayed that he would know what to do. She knew that he could tell that something was bothering her but he wasn't the pushy type. He would wait for her to tell him in her own time as long as whatever was on her mind didn't interfere with her work, school or how she interacted with him.

  She decided to just show him instead of trying to explain. She wouldn't have known where to begin. She leaned her crutches against the wall and quickly unwrapped the gauze with deft hands. Her father looked confused for a second or 2 but then a sort of fearful understanding slowly replaced the expression. She knew that look.

  “You don't look all that surprised.” Was all she said.

  He stared at her leg a few moments longer before speaking.

  “When did it happen?” He asked in a tone as if he were reading off a grocery list.

  “I'm not entirely sure.” She responded. “The doctor last checked on my leg on Monday. So, it had to have happened in the last 2 days”

  He just sat there staring at her leg.

  “Did this happen to you dad?” She prompted. "Have you ever had some grave injury heal quickly?"

  “No.” He said. “My brother Peter. The uncle who died before you were born. We never told anyone about it. When he was 16 he broke his finger while we were play wrestling. It looked very bad. But a few days later it got even worse. It began turning black and started to smell and still he wouldn't go to the hospital. All of a sudden, it was healed; Like overnight.”

  “What did you guys do?” She asked, understandably intrigued.

  “What? Nothing at first. But Peter was always braver than he was cautious. It wasn't long before he was hurting himself on purpose just to see how fast he could heal.” He shook his head sadly. “It was probably why he was killed. He became completely fearless, taking insane risks. He was shot multiple times in the chest defending a friend from a gang of thugs. He didn't heal.” He finished sadly.

  “Dad… if your brother and your daughter.” She began but he cut her off.

  “I was 23 when I broke my femur. My ankle was also hurt pretty badly at the time and was probably why I broke it in the first place. It was broken badly, Desiree. Took me some 9 months to heal. If I had
the ability, it would have manifested then.”

  Desiree pushed him for more information but one cannot squeeze blood from a turnip. He simply didn't know any more about how or why it happened. But even the little information he had given seemed to lift a ton of weight from her shoulders. It was obviously hereditary. No one had infected her or was experimenting on her. Unfortunately, she still had the problem of discovery.

  They debated the problem for a while and decided together that her best option was to go AWOL and return to the Army after a decent enough time had passed that it would be believed that her leg had healed naturally. They knew the punishment would be severe but nowhere near the kind of trouble and problems she would face if the government discovered her secret. She cringed at the thought of what would happen to her if the U.S. government had even a hint.

  Again, she marveled out how her father could always make her feel better with just a few words. She had not realized just how much the situation had been pressing upon her until now. It was as if she had been dangling by her heels over a precipice, and now that she looked again, she saw that the drop was only a few inches. Well, she wasn’t exactly that much at ease, but the difference her father had made was monumental.

  She sat there with a smile on her face, her chest a hodgepodge of emotions. The feelings were so intense, she thought she might explode. Only one time in her life was comparable. When she was in the 2nd grade, her father saw her kissing Donnie McDaniel on a dare from her friends and promptly told her that she was now pregnant. Of course, she was terrified. He had let her stew with that for over an hour before finally giving her the birds and the bees speech. How she felt after that talk was not unlike how she felt right now. Almost overpowering feelings of relief and terrified excitement, with a sprinkle of curiosity and disgust, all rolled into her chest like some perverse calzone of feelings. The memory made her smile even harder and she gave her dad tight hug.

  It was a 15-hour drive to return home and her father did not want to leave so late in the day. That gave them a good 8 hours to burn before bedtime. After searching on her phone and then driving along Cache Blvd, they decided to try a dine-in restaurant that served burgers.