"Go to your bank's website. They have an option for mailing cash to you. You might want to go through Manuel's things. It wouldn't surprise me if he had a suitcase full of cash."
"Why?"
"In case he ever had to escape. Money to run with."
"I'll try that. If not, I'll order some cash."
"Goodbye, Sidney."
The phone clicked off, and I started going through Manuel's room. He had an actual closet, and I started there. In the back behind some old boxes was a soft leather briefcase. I pulled it out and looked inside. I found stacks upon stacks of twenties. I smiled.
Chapter 25
I dialed Dawn and waited. Her voice mail picked up, and I said, "Dawn, it's me, Sidney. Tell your brother to call me."
Within a half hour, the phone rang. I answered, "Hello?"
Dawn said, "What do you want?"
"Tell your brother to name his price!"
"Four hundred bucks. That's what he wants."
"Tell him that's highly acceptable, and I'll expect him for lunch tomorrow."
She clicked the phone off.
I went to the kitchen and surveyed my options. Had plenty of supplies to make bread. Citrus fruit and gummi bears of course. I had spaghetti, but no parmesan and only a little sauce. There was another box of breakfast cereal. I mixed up a batch of wheat bread and filled the bread machine. I'd know from the smell when the bread was finished. Sleep beat me over the head with a club. Waking up, it was past dark. I smelled but didn't smell fresh bread.
I went downstairs to the kitchen, and the bread machine sat on the counter ominously staring at me. Looking inside it, the dough was uncooked, raw. I sighed.
I made spaghetti. A part of my mind said, "Eat an MRE." Then reason worked its way into the equation, and I relented.
Bright and early the next morning the helicopter arrived. I quickly scrambled to get my ski mask on and the door open for them before they started unloading the craft. One soldier approached with a Styrofoam cooler. I smiled. The soldier set the package on the counter and made to leave. I said, "Wait one minute. It should have been three or four of those coolers."
The soldier looked innocent, but I knew it was an act. He said, "I'm not sure what you mean, sir."
I walked up to the cooler and noticed the packaging tape had all been cut. I lifted the lid off the cooler. I saw packages like from the butcher wrapped in paper stamped with the word, "Commissary." I grabbed one of the packages and read the label, London Broil. I counted them: three London Broils and three sirloin steaks. I said, "You stole my steak."
"I didn't. The officer on duty confiscated it. The dogs flip out. Anything that freaks out the dogs we have to confiscate."
"I don't fucking believe you!"
"Look. I only had a few bites. The officer on duty ordered us to eat. He did."
"Get out!"
"The commissary has very good meat."
"Get out!"
The soldier left, and I put the six steaks in the fridge. I skipped breakfast and waited on my pizza. Twelve thirty rolled around, and the perimeter alarm sounded. I checked the monitors, and it was the pizza delivery guy wearing a ski mask.
I let him in the parking lot. I answered the door handing over the stack of twenties. He turned to leave, and I said, "You know they can get your identity from your license plate--wearing the ski mask doesn't help."
He looked at me. "Thanks for sharing that vital piece of information."
"I'm curious. You need money for something Dawn won't give you money for?"
"She doesn't approve."
"That just makes me all the more curious…"
"I want to buy some dope," he said. "She doesn't approve of me smoking dope."
"That makes sense," I said. "Can I get another pizza in a couple of days?"
"No. I only needed four hundred."
"I can always hope your addiction grows."
"Dawn said you were crazy. Now I know what she means."
"Thanks for the pizza."
"You're welcome. Bye."
I closed the door after him. I went into the kitchen and started by eating a slice from each four quadrants. Then I did that again. Then I did it for the third time, and the pizza was history.
Three days later I had the box of MREs open. One was lasagna, and it terrified me. Next was beef ravioli in real tomato sauce. One was marked meatloaf. I decided on the meatloaf.
I read and followed the instructions with the heater. I was tempted to just microwave everything, but I was starved, and I didn't know if the microwave would have a bad effect on already bad food. I waited. There were other things in the package besides the main entrée: mmmm, crackers, juice flavored beverage powder, a little bag of peanuts, a cookie, and matches.
I took a bite of the meatloaf. I chewed. My stomach twisted in a knot to keep from puking. I swallowed the mess. Ate a cracker and smiled, for the cracker was a good cracker. I mixed up the beverage powder. Chewing another bite of meatloaf, it wasn't as bad the second time. It was honestly on par with some of the stuff we got in juvenile hall.
I ordered more steaks. I just had to. Surely they would show mercy on me.
I ate MREs. Found myself opening two at a time eating all the side items and avoiding the entrees. Waste of food I know, but I had no choice. I wanted to go to a buffet so bad, any old buffet would do. Surely Dayton had some buffets.
Two days passed before I heard the helicopter. They unloaded five boxes of MREs and left. I didn't say a single word to any of them. Part of my mind wanted to shoot one of them in the foot, but I figured that might get me in a little trouble. My mind started to drift as I worked my way from one flavor of MRE to the next.
I was sleeping in quite comfortably, after a vicious workout the night before, when the perimeter alarm sounded. I ran downstairs and checked the video monitor. Father Titus's car sat outside the gate with the pitch black tinted windows rolled up. I activated the voice button and said, "Roll down the window."
The window rolled down, and Father Titus poked his head out. "I'm sorry, Sidney. I forgot, and it's a bit chilly out today."
I activated the gate and garage door for Father Titus, and he drove inside. As he stepped out of the car, I asked, "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
Father Titus smiled at me with all his teeth. "Simple matter really."
I said, "What?"
"Some of the women down at the church found out that you're all that's left of the Dayton team."
"Well, we should control information better than that. We don't want people to know."
"These women are very trustworthy. They'll keep your secret."
"Then why drive all the way down here to tell me, Father?"
"They went shopping."
I nodded my head up and down, and I said the words, "For food?"
Father Titus smiled.
I said, "For me?"
"In the back seat."
I walked up to the car and opened the back seat. It was a big, roomy car from a bygone era, and the back seat was full. I grabbed as many plastic bags as I could carry and hauled them into the kitchen. Went back and filled my paws a second time.
I started rifling through the bags one by one. There was a little bit of everything. I filled the fridge up. I didn't even notice Father Titus. When I did turn to look at him, he just stood there staring at me with a grin on his face.
"If you email me a list, we'll get specific things you want," he said. "I can't guarantee you'll get every brand you want. The women tend to be picky about brands they like. I know one insists on unsalted butter, another buys only organic produce."
"They can pick whatever brands they prefer. I'll email you a list. Do you want some cash?"
"No cash. No."
I said, "Well, tell them thanks."
"Alright. I have to go. Stay strong, Sidney."
Father Titus left, and I cooked eggs and bacon. I toasted and buttered an English muffin, too. I didn't even look twice at the MRE boxes.
Still, I was alone. I started to make a list. One, I could see if my option to relocate to wherever my parents were holed up was still open. Two, I could take a few million out of the slayer account and just head somewhere with beaches that go on for miles and miles. Didn't want to run. Didn't want to hide.
I went through Manuel's things again. I figured out the computer in his office. Downloading satellite images of the city at night was easy, I learned out how to order thermal pictures of specific addresses. I could launch a reconnaissance drone anytime I wanted to. I realized though that even though I could order the drones around a human pilot still likely piloted the thing even if remotely.
Within a few days, I started to notice a chill seeping in the warehouse. I looked out the window, and it was gray and cloudy. I went to the thermostat and examined it. It was quite simple, but it was set for cool not heat. I flipped it to heat, and the lights flickered as the furnace fired up. I checked one of the vents and felt a warm breeze.
Two days passed, and Father Titus brought me more groceries. Then, before I had even sent a new list in, the perimeter alarm sounded around noon. I ran to the monitor to see, and it was Father Titus. He pulled into the garage and stepped out of the car.
I smiled at him. "More groceries?"
"The good book shows us that it is better to teach a man to fish than to give him a fish for a day."
I gave Father Titus my best confused look. A look I had in fact practiced many times and felt that I was very close to having perfected it.
Father Titus knocked on the roof of his car.
Both back doors opened in unison. The first thing I saw was black gloved hands and body armor stretching up their arms. Then I saw their faces and the dark ski masks that signaled their trade.
Chapter 26
I had an apple that I was going to eat before the exterior alarm sounded. I grabbed it off the control panel desk and threw it over-handed at the slayer closest to me's face.
The slayer grabbed his knife and caught the apple along the edge of his blade. He pulled the apple off the knife and took a bite.
"You can help make the fruit salad at Thanksgiving," I said.
The slayer closed his eyes, likely in frustration.
He said, "You were bitten three times?"
I smiled. These two youths, by their height, were fully prepared to be my assassins. I nodded.
Father Titus pointed at the one talking and said, "That is Aaron." Then he pointed at the other one and said, "This is Nathan."
Aaron said, "I want a blood sample."
"Do you trust my meter?" I asked. "Or did you bring one?"
He pulled a duffle bag out of the car. "I brought one."
I held my right hand out palm up. "Any finger you like."
Aaron pricked my finger and fed the drop into the machine while Nathan moved to my back. I was wearing my Colt. I wondered how fast they were. I thought about casually moving my hand to my pistol, but it would have been a little obvious.
Aaron whispered, "Seventy-two."
"You're not uncomfortable?” Nathan asked. “You aren't ravenously hungry?"
"No,” I said. “I'm fine. I had breakfast."
Aaron said, "Human."
Nathan moved over to Aaron's side and examined the meter results himself. Both of them sighed.
I said, "We don't wear masks in the warehouse."
Nathan looked to Father Titus who nodded. He reached up and stripped off his ski mask. He was impossibly young with bright eyes and raggedy, blonde hair. Father Titus said, "Nathan is a few months short of the right age. The church accelerated his schedule so he could reinforce you. Aaron is closer to the right age, but still a little young."
Aaron didn't take his mask off. I said, "Aaron?"
He said, "No."
I said, "Yes."
He looked at Father Titus. He said, "You cannot hide from everyone forever."
Aaron's shoulders slumped down visibility, but he reached up and pulled off his ski mask. A girl stared back at me. She had straight black hair trimmed in almost perfect lines. She wore no jewelry, but her ears were pierced. She had solid brown eyes, almost black.
Nathan shouted, "You're a girl?"
Aaron/Erin nodded.
Nathan growled. "I've been spelling your name with an A all this time!"
Erin smiled. "No, it's Erin, E-R-I-N."
"You use the men's room!"
"I don't use the urinals."
"No! But you've watched me using them!"
Erin shouted, "I've never watched you!"
"At least once I caught you checking me out. I thought you might be gay."
"You lie!" She said.
The room fell silent. I could see each of them calculating their chances. Nathan's hand was slowly moving to his Glock. I said, "Father Titus, are female slayers common?"
"No, only once every generation or two is one trained."
Nathan's hand was within inches of his Glock. Erin had her hand lightly resting on the hilt of her sword. Erin said, "Try it."
Nathan didn't even twitch. "All the times you've kicked my ass, and you're a girl!"
"Women are better than boys at a great many things."
Nathan looked at me. "Is there a weight room in this warehouse?"
"We've got some stuff in the basement yeah, not a full gym by any stretch of the imagination, but all the bases are covered," I said.
Nathan turned back on Erin. "I'm going to outgrow you. I can put on muscle faster than you, and I'm going to out work you."
Erin shrugged just her left shoulder. "You'll probably just get fat and slow."
"Where's my room? I want to stow my stuff and see this weight room."
"Sidney, are you going to start hitting nests?" Titus asked. "The church was quite adamant that you start clearing the city again."
"With only three?" I asked. "Other teams don't go into the field without four."
Erin said, "Manuel, Ben, and Lambert did it."
"Manuel didn't go in, though. He stayed outside the house and waited."
Nathan said, "If that's what it takes, so be it."
I sighed and wished I had some hazelnut coffee. "The bedrooms are on the second floor. My room has my name on it. Pick any rooms you guys want. The computers might have porn on them."
Erin said, "Porn!"
"It's not my fault. It's just my understanding there might be porn on the computer in your room. Simon's computer should be clean. You're about his size, Nathan."
"Erin can take Simon's room," Nathan said with a smile. "I'll just pick one at random. I like games of chance."
Father Titus said, "Good luck. I need to get going."
I said, "Goodbye, Father."
Nathan and Erin ran off, and I worked the control panel letting Father Titus out of the warehouse. I started plotting. My first thought was quite simple: I'm never planting explosives on a door again. I'm also not going to send those teens in alone while I sit outside and wait.
I went upstairs to my room and grabbed my satellite phone. Agent nine answered simply, "Hello, Sidney."
I asked, "I can get weapons, right?"
"Anything except a tank."
"Damn it, I need a tank."
"Too bad," Agent Nine said.
"Not even a little tank?"
"You're out of luck."
"In that case, I need a grenade launcher: a strong enough one to knock down a door."
"Single shot or do you want a magazine fed model?"
"They make one with a magazine? How many shots?"
"Five, six, or seven, depending on the model," he said.
"I definitely would prefer a magazine loaded model."
"How many of the guns do you want?" He asked.
"Just one."
"We're going to go to all the trouble of authorizing a weapons purchase and shipping it, and you want one?"
"I think I only need one," I said.
"How much ammo?"
"I don't kno
w. Fifty shells maybe."
"How about we send 200 shells?" He asked.
"Fine, I live in a warehouse."
There was a silence, and agent nine said, "The new recruits arrive safely?"
"They did."
"Try not to misplace them."
"When will my grenade launcher get here?"
"Three to five days."
I hung the phone up. I logged onto the internet and pulled up the department of motor vehicles. I printed two copies of their driver's manual for new drivers. Nathan knocked on my door. I said, "Hey, Nathan."
"Hey, boss."
He didn't say anything. I handed him one of the printouts. "Commit it to memory."
He looked at it, and his eyes bugged out a little. "You want me to learn to drive?"
"It's imperative."
"Ok."
I looked at him. "Did you need something?"
"There's no abdominal machine or inclined sit-up bench in the basement."
"You don't like normal sit-ups?" I asked.
"If I'm flat, I can do over a hundred. I lose count. It's really boring."
I fished around on my desk for a credit card and held it out to Nathan. He hesitated. Then he snatched it out of my hand. He smiled. "When do we eat?"
I looked at the clock on my computer, and it said, 10:30 AM. "Didn't you have breakfast?"
"Sure. I had breakfast. I still need to know when we're going to eat."
"The kitchen is on the first floor. Nothing is standing in your way."
"We don't get hot food?"
"You don't know how to cook, do you?"
He said, "No."
I nodded. I hit the intercom switch. "Erin? Where are you?"
After a few moments, I heard, "In my room."
I stepped into the hallway and shouted, "Erin!"
She stepped out of Simon's room. I held out the printout of the driver's manual, and she took it gingerly. She looked at the cover; she rifled through the pages. "What's this?"
I said, "You need to learn to drive."
"No."
"Yes."
"Why?" She asked.
"What if I die? How will you drive yourself back to base? You both need to learn to drive."
She said, "Whatever."
I said, "Do you know how to cook, Erin?"
She said, "A little."
"Well, we're all going to cook together. We're all going to help clean up afterward. If you don't like what we're cooking, you can cook something else. But we all share in the duties."
Bullets Will Work: A Vampire Slayer Novel Page 16