The Vampires Of Livix Twin Pack (Volumes #2 & #3)

by Smith, J Gordon

  The old vampires fed this way. Saner, calmer, controlled, and as pleasurable as ripping a neck wide and lapping the blood from the garden hose. None of this Massai crap. This is why the old vampires like her had been so dangerous – they knew both sides of pain and pleasure and how to straddle the two. Brett might remember it as a dream but no matter, it would lead to nothing. She remembered how the dreams tormented the furor of puritanical groups. They fled from Europe, advertised as pursuing religious freedom, but in reality an escape from the vampires. But when the vampires followed them across the ocean the colonists’ response bled into the witch trials with their pitchforks and torches and rising mayhem. Mayhem. She liked that word. Claire’s face, brushed with the filaments of the waning starlight, smiled.

  -:- -:- -:-

  I awoke and groaned as I stretched awake. Garin glided across the kitchen from the door off the deck and into the living room. The sun already topped the trees at the edge of his property.

  Brett flipped back his blanket. I saw his long legs and white underwear. His rippled stomach bunched up as he stood to pull on his pants. “Ouch!” He pulled his pants back down and looked at his leg like a bee sting, “What? … Shit. It was real?”

  I collected myself, “What was real?”

  “I had some really weird dreams,” he twisted his leg out and I could see below his bulging underwear that his leg scowled with two angry red dots.

  Garin saw it too, “Claire!”

  Claire strolled through the door with her carefully seductive cat walk. She tipped her head up. Her wicked grin displayed tips of fangs creasing her lips. “He didn’t seem to mind and I didn’t want to drink your girl – difficult to resist both of them in here.”

  “Go,” Garin rushed Claire. “You have to go NOW!”

  He picked her up and flung her from the open door across the yard toward the street. She bounded like an acrobat on an Olympic floor show landing on her feet in the gravel next to the pavement between the trees at the end of the driveway. I could see her flashing eyes and sharp furious shoulders. She saluted crisply with her fingers to her brow and flashed away into the burning mists.

  Brett buttoned his pants and pulled his shirt over his head.

  “Are you ok?” Garin asked Brett.

  “Sure. It seemed like a dream.”

  “It will but it’s not nice. A technique the older vampires often used to sip victims while they slept. Eventually someone wakes up or a family member sees the vampire feeding and then it’s pitchforks and torches.”

  I folded blankets and started thinking about what I should do about the missing pictures and my apartment but a loud knock came at the door. Garin opened the door revealing Branoc standing there in his black trench coat. He examined us for a moment before saying, “The three of you need to come with me. We found more murdered vampires … With potential ties to you, Garin.”

  -:- Ten -:-

  Branoc drove us across town to one of the new sprawling technology parks. He cut the car through several open construction sites where new buildings arose from the dust like the Mayor had said in his Victorian Festival speech. Men wearing hard hats, flannel, and busted jeans. Large yellow bulldozers pushed concrete, re-bar, and rubble while cranes lifted steel I-beams. A construction dance swirling along the dust outside the closed windows of Branoc’s car. Then we drove into an older section of the technology park. Overgrown with twisted trees and shaggy lawns littered with accidental refuse bits dripping off delivery trucks and blown out of workers lunch boxes. Spent cigarette butts spun along the stained concrete ahead of the breeze.

  A vile looking manufacturing plant shipping dock gaped before us. The exterior of the building constructed of corrugated and galvanized steel riveted to dusty black I-beams. A string of police cars and specially blacked out sedans parked like employees along the otherwise vacant lot against the building. Thin streams of smoldering soot threaded out of tall smoke stacks to the blue sky.

  “What is this place?”

  Garin answered, “It’s been here a long time. An aluminum casting company. A dirty process but this place actually looks nice compared to some Kentucky and Tennessee plants I’ve been at.”

  Branoc said, “We had the company close their operations and send everyone home while we get this figured out.”

  I could see a red hot furnace in the bowls of the plant belching flame and soot like an oily dragon. Two lone silhouettes in overalls moved around the equipment.

  “Those guys are working on safely shutting down the furnaces. That’s the last one.”

  “They can’t have the aluminum freeze in the pots or they’ll be a week at getting it started again.”

  “Thanks Garin,” Branoc turned the wheel to park the car, “The plant is a bystander here.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “They covered a few costs by renting out their upstairs offices. The lower floor houses the casting plant administration.”

  “Who did they rent to?” I could see the plant’s sign stating Red Sands Casting Company but nothing about a second business.

  “They thought a small robotic technology software business.”

  “But it wasn’t?” asked Brett.

  “No.”

  Branoc led us to a metal door that wobbled from loose sheets caused from welds that fatigued and separated over the years.

  “Hey, I recognize those,” I said, walking over to a weathered wood box full of aluminum castings with an orange sign stapled to two sides and scrawled with black marker “Bracket ‘309AC”. I picked one up and flipped it around, “This is the part I worked on writing those patent claims for Marilyn.”

  “Small town.” Garin said, “I don’t see a plethora of attachment features.”

  “And you won’t.” I set the casting back on the bin with the others. “Fun to see the patent in real life.”

  Garin scanned the labels, “Pre-production samples waiting for the end customer to pick up.”

  Branoc led us through the metal door and up a narrow staircase of grungy tiled steps.

  “I’m apologizing ahead of time. What you’ll see in here is gruesome. Anna, if you want to wait while I take Garin through that is ok. But you may know clues.”

  Brett said, “I doubt I’ll have a clue. I’ve never seen this plant.”

  “Your father hangs out with some of the local militia and a passing comment they made to him and he to you could spark an idea.”

  Another steel door, but in better condition, closed off the landing at the top of the stairs. Branoc pushed through it into a tight lobby. Not much larger than an elevator but with a sliding glass window looking into a receptionist’s cube. Branoc opened the door on the far side of the lobby for us to follow. The receptionist’s chair was spun askew causing me to look down at the floor. I saw a body.

  “Oh!” I sucked air. I clamped my hands over my mouth suppressing my alarm.

  The receptionist lay slumped on the floor. She had been pretty but half her face, most of her neck, and chunks of her body dissolved, including bone – from the inside.

  Branoc paused, “That’s what we will see inside too. Anna, did you want to sit in one of the reception chairs rather than go in?”

  “Only a few feet from that body?” I said, but I nerved myself, “No. I’m not being left alone out here. I can handle more bodies. I think.” Brett paled from the blank eye staring out of that half consumed face.

  “Any of you let me know if you’ve had too much.” Branoc pushed through the door.

  The office space split into low walled desk cubes. Dual computer monitors mounted on brackets stood on most of the desks. Some of the monitors lay tipped over on the desks or floor as dissolving bodies whipped around in their last throws. A keyboard hung from its wire off the side of a desk with blood dripping from it into a pool soaking the carpet runner. Papers and chairs splashed with red gore littered the floor like a kindergarten watercolor project. A happy bouncing ball screen saver ran on a pair of monitors
nearby.

  Miniature orange numbered pylons placed by police earlier corresponded with photographs.

  Branoc said, “The first calls of this type came from here but we’ve received others since. Including two deaths at The Vacuna Club.”

  “The club?”

  “Two vampires melted like this in the center of the dance floor. Spontaneously. Obviously a lot of witnesses. Good thing the darkness in there hid a lot.”

  Garin separated from us and moved carefully around the room, “These are all vampires.”

  “Yes.” Branoc turned looking at everything again, “Called here on the vampire-911 … by a dying vampire – that one with the phone.” a vampire lay in eroded ruin clutching a phone receiver. The handset urgently requested replacement in the cradle. The curly cord stretched taut from the floor up to the desk where the phone base teetered at the edge of the work surface only held by the taught phone line reaching across the desk and down a dark little cable mouse hole. “We’ve been finding vampires at home on the couch watching television. Not sure how it hit them like this or what’s causing the melting.”

  “Where are the other police from the cars?” Brett asked.

  “I had them take a break so we could talk.”

  Garin said, “Are they vampire police?”

  “Yes.”

  Garin reached for a mouse on a table.

  “No. Don’t touch with your fingers.”

  “– Sorry,” Garin pulled a pen from his pants pocket and pushed the mouse with it. The screen blinked demanding a password login. “That’s too bad.”

  “We’ll have the IT team here later to dismantle and inspect the equipment.”

  I walked carefully around the carpeted floor runners that defined the walk isles. The basic floor of white ceramic tiles contrasted sharply against the red blood and oozing body fluids. I looked across the office and saw a half wall topped with glass looking into a large conference room. Balloons pulled on cords anchored to the table. “What are the balloons? A party?”

  “A birthday cake.”

  “I’m going to take a look.”

  I walked into the conference room and the balloons proclaimed happy birthday and big sections of the red velvet birthday cake had been sliced out. Sweaty blue bottles of Massai stood arrayed at the far end. Plates and forks scattered still in the middle of the ongoing party. Big wax cheesy number candles blown out revealed the age of the recipient. Wishes written in shaky icing by someone in the office, obvious that no cake shop would have written this on a blank cake, Happy 735th Birthday.

  “Crap!” I recoiled. I never thought of it that way.

  Most of the cake slices revealed nibbling by polite vampires. But bottles of Massai, some empty and some half consumed, tipped over amid the bodies. One body clung to a bottle in pudgy fingers. I asked, “Poisoned by the bottles?”

  Branoc’s eyebrows lifted, “I wondered about poisoning at first but vampires don’t get poisoned like humans.”

  Garin crouched down to look closely without touching a bottle standing half full on a desk. “The date code shows this bottle came from the bottling plant last week.”

  Branoc nudged a bottle on the floor with his boot, “This one is the same. I’d expect most of these are similar if ordered in a batch for the party.”

  We checked more of the bottles and they showed the same manufacture date including the unopened bottles in the conference room.

  “Well, a possible clue. Thanks Anna.” Branoc moved through the room to a hallway. “This is the reason I wanted to bring you Garin, to see this utility room.”

  “I’m still surprised that a software company would want to co-locate with a casting plant. Too much heat and dust for computer servers to handle even with excessive care.”

  “I didn’t see any servers here other than a basic router and file storage. They appeared to access everything through the Internet.”

  Branoc pushed open the door shielding the utility room.

  “Who are they?” asked Garin as we stepped inside.

  Mats fitted the floor of the room from wall to wall while weapons hung upon the walls.

  “Training, but for what?” A bank of lockers lined a short off-shooting corridor to some burgundy fire suppression shut-off valves.

  Turning around, the wall holding the door claimed Garin’s attention.

  A large map covered the expansive wall detailing the town of Livix. Strings pinned to the map connected masses of papers and articles and company descriptions. Photographs of executives, workers, and security systems.

  Garin said, “The Bank of Draydon is there as well as Ramsburgh Industries along with photographs of my ex-finance and ex-engineering executives.” Both pictures marked with bold red X’s across the pictures.

  “What are they after? What does your plant make?” asked Branoc.

  Garin signed, “You’re not going to like my answer. It’s a top secret plant and because I don’t have security clearance not even I know. Yet.”

  “This has the marks of a terror cell. They are after some sort of weapon in your defense company.” Branoc looked across the map, “Are you sure you don’t know what’s made there? I find it hard to believe.”

  “My Mother owned the facility so I did not get involved until recently. Then when I did attempt finding out what is going on in there I had the Director of Engineering chasing me across the city intent on my murder.”

  “Chasing you in a black sport utility?” asked Brett.

  “Yes.” Garin waved his hand like brushing at a fly.

  “I’ll send my car insurance bill to you for the damages –”

  Branoc’s phone rang, “Yes? I see. Ok thanks. Clean it up.” He ended the call and said, “Another vampire nest. A family of six dead this way.” Then Branoc dialed his phone asking the previous caller, “Any Massai bottles about? Ok. What’s the date on them? Thanks.”

  Branoc paced across the mat looking at the deep stains and worn scuffs and scrapes sketched across its well used putty-colored surface, “The same date code as the bottles here.” He turned to Garin, “Keep your friends close. Check your Massai. It looks like we’ve got a t-cell plus another group.” He looked at the map again, “Brett, do you know if anything is going on with the militia?”

  “Not like this. They always talk about what to do with the vampires,” Brett scowled at Garin, “But it’s always talk and no doing. But then I don’t go to the meetings since I’m not a member.”

  I looked at Brett. His shoulders shrugged “What?”

  Branoc led us back into the office. He dropped a pair of bottles into a plastic evidence bag and drew a quick skull and cross-bones on the bag. I noticed the skull grinned with vampire teeth. “I’m going to have this analyzed and spread the word in the vampire network. This is bad if true.”

  “Why?” asked Brett.

  Garin answered, “This is bad because, unable to trust the Massai, and the vampires will turn to something they do trust – killing people.”

  Branoc shifted papers back and forth on a desk. He picked up a small box made of thin cardboard, the same feel as a cigarette carton, “This isn’t your regular affair.”

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “A detonator. An explosion occurred a few weeks ago at the plant that made these and a carton of them disappeared off the shipping dock. Originally written off as a miss-shipment they thought mixed up with the assembly area that caught on fire. Now we know someone received it.”

  Garin looked across the desk, “There are two more in various states of dismantling and construction.” bits of wire strips coiled and snaked across the work surface. A soldering station still maintained a hot tip in its coil stand. Pliers and screwdrivers and volt meters lay scattered. A few black and white LCD screens slid out of a tipped over box of ten. “There are only five screens here. They already built some devices that are not here.”

  Branoc and Garin looked across other desks. “These are shipping papers for manufacturing eq
uipment.”

  Branoc shifted some other papers aside, “Flu doses?” He looked at Garin, “What could they be working on with flu vaccine equipment?”

  Retaliation against the Massai?” asked Brett.

  “They didn’t know about that until too late.” Branoc said.

  “They worked independently.”

  “Your friend’s father’s name is Gale, right?” asked Branoc.

  A lump appeared in my throat, “Yes, Gale. His last name is Gale.”

  “Here’s his name on this shipment tag.”

  “Working for them?”

  “No. Because of what happened, I suspect these vampires coerced him into working on building information for them. I bet they forced him to do it under threats to his family – which they made real.”

  Garin focused on a few papers on another desk, “Could the Militia have tried stopping him from helping these vampires?”

  I stepped back and bumped a keyboard into a mouse. The monitor behind me clicked as it awoke from sleep. I looked at it. One of the pair of split screens showed my Faceplate page.

  “Why do they have my Faceplate page open?”

  “What do you mean your Faceplate page is open?”

  I stood in shock. “Is that why I couldn’t get into my account?”

  Garin rushed to my side, “Why do you think they are stalking her, Branoc?”

  Branoc dropped the papers from his hands and came to the desk.

  My agitation rose. Like my stomach gurgling in my throat. “They must have been in my apartment and taken the pictures off the fridge?”

  Brett crowded close, “Are they stalking Anna because of Garin?”

  Garin studied the display, “Wait, that’s a remote screen.” He looked at Branoc as he reached for the mouse cupping his hand through his shirt sleeve. Branoc nodded. “They hacked into someone else’s PC and are watching what is posted on their screen and using the camera to show the room.”