Feral Song

by Stephanie Bedwell-Grime

  FERAL SONG

  By

  Stephanie Bedwell-Grime

  Copyright © 2018 by Stephanie Bedwell-Grime

  Cover by Derek Grime

  All rights reserved.

  Published by Feral Martian Publishing

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  About The Author

  CHAPTER ONE

  HE SEES THINGS IN THE dark. Things no one else sees. In the sliver of time between full dark and first light, events unfold.

  He lives in this moment. It’s the moment he feels most alive. It’s the moment when he can throw off the mask and indulge his true nature.

  The theater door closes behind him. He’s stayed late tonight, much later than usual. He’s lingered until every last soul had left the theater. And once the theater was empty, he sang.

  There are rare nights when he gets to indulge both sides of his nature, the artist and the beast. After hours of giving his voice free-rein, when there is not a note left to sing, he slips into the night and simply becomes.

  He wears the night like a second skin as he slides into the shadows. From all around he hears the sounds of the small creatures that call the city home. Rats scurry through the gutters, a fat raccoon overturns a garbage can. On a more desperate night, any of these might provide sustenance. Tonight he’s after bigger prey.

  Dax isn’t the only predator out here in the night. Members of the city’s underbelly roam the streets like dark wraiths, sliding in and out of the shadows. They are his target, those who mean no good to anything or anyone.

  He falls into step behind such a creature, a furtive, wiry male all dressed in black. With his keen eyesight he can clearly make out the outline of the weapon he conceals. He’s heading for a nearby convenience store. A store clerk is in early setting up produce. He can envision the crime clearly: the unsuspecting female, the man with the gun, the day’s cash float already sitting in the till.

  Dax moves, as quickly as the first rays of dawn cresting the horizon. His swiftness startles the woman and she jumps out of the way. His hand closes around the perpetrator’s gun, squeezing the man’s fingers hard enough to force him to release the weapon. The gun goes off, tearing a hole in the store’s awning, before it falls to the floor with a metallic thud. But the woman is safe and that’s all he cares about at the moment.

  His momentum carries the man with him into the silent street. There’s an alleyway nearby and he makes a dive for it, dragging his victim with him. He lunges for the shadows where he knows he can safely hide what’s he’s about to do next, where he can indulge his true nature without being seen.

  Stunned, the man is looking up at him now. He lets his true nature show. Incisors slide from their sheaths. Vampires are no longer a secret. Their existence has been acknowledged for some time. He can tell his victim recognizes what he is. That doesn’t make what he’s about to do legal, a dim part of his conscience warns. He consoles himself with the knowledge that his victim would have shot the woman in the store just to get a few dollars from the till.

  Surprisingly, his intended victim isn’t staring up at him with shock or horror. A flurry of emotions cross his face. Resignation followed swiftly by disgust. He falters, his grip loosening.

  That’s all the encouragement his victim needs. Using a move worthy of a martial arts movie, he breaks the grip holding him and races off down the alley.

  Dax moves to pursue him. With his superior strength, he knows he could overtake him in seconds. But the sky is lightening rapidly. Dawn is spreading across the city and what he intended to do is not to be seen in the light of day.

  No meal for him tonight. He’ll have to break into his diminishing rations. With a long sigh, he turns to blend into the fading shadows and head for home.

  “Hey!” A voice from the mouth of the alley stops him in his tracks.

  He turns toward the sound to find the woman from the convenience store watching him.

  In the dim light he catches a glimpse of her heart-shaped face, her black hair held back in a messy ponytail. Dark, almond-shaped eyes gleam in the shadows.

  “Thank you.” Her voice is hoarse with shock. Her words begin to fall over one another like dominoes. “I didn’t see anything...I had no idea there was someone there...”

  “It’s all right. He’s gone. I doubt he’ll be back, but be careful.”

  She nods, still staring at him, eyes wide.

  He slides further into the shadows. “I have to go.”

  “Should I—should I call the police? I mean there’s a gun on the floor of the store.”

  He breaks into a run. “Yes,” he calls back over his shoulder. “You should probably call the police.”

  With that he flees into the rapidly lightening shadows.

  HOME NOW, TIRED AND hungry, the dawn an angry slash against the sky, Dax turns on the television to catch the morning news. The attempted robbery garners only a small mention. The suspect’s description is given, his is not. For that he is grateful. The news moves on to other stories. He wanders into the kitchen for a bag of blood. The processed food is unpalatable. He would have much preferred something hot from the vein. Especially something hot from the vein of someone about to commit a crime. What he does wouldn’t seem so bad that way. But alas, the night has ended how it has and the bagged blood will have to do. With a sigh he takes it back into the living room and stops dead in his tracks.

  On the television screen is a photo of the man from the store. Only he is far more than just a common street criminal. Dax recognizes him from a series of newscasts a few months ago. The man on the television has a long and storied past, including secret military experiments on both humans and vampires. And more recently, a prison break.

  The police haven’t yet made the connection between their fugitive and the man in the store.

  And he’d let him go.

  AFTER TAKING MYAH’S statement and a description of the suspect, the police have come and gone. An attempted robbery doesn’t garner much attention these days, especially if no one was hurt. Define hurt, she thinks. She still starts at every loud noise on the street. Every car door slamming shut, every accelerating motor makes her jump. She’s put the meager cash back in the till. Even losing that amount of change would have been a disaster for the small store. Business hasn’t been good lately. And now this.

  It wasn’t even supposed to have been her shift, Myah thinks as she re-stacks the last of the merchandise that got knocked over. The owner usually takes the opening shift, but her child had an early morning doctor’s appointment and Myah offered to open instead. No good deed goes unpunished. She hates to prove that worn-out saying right.

  When asked about the man who intervened in the fight, she is vague. Just a passerby, she says, which is true. But she knows from their brief encounter that he was much more than that. In that terrifying moment, when she’d glimpsed his true nature, she’d been more afraid of him than her assailant. And yet, contrary to her experiences with his kind, he’d come to her aid. The police had managed to pull video of the assailant from a surveillance camera on the street outside. The store next door has video security, hers does not. A dummy camera hangs over the back door, pointed threateningly at the entrance. But the cables dangle uselessly on the other side o
f the wall. The camera hasn’t worked in years.

  Attempted robberies happen all the time in the big city, but this was so much more than that.

  Because she recognizes the man who attacked her.

  And he’s her worst nightmare.

  IT ALL STARTS WITH the woman, Dax thinks as he neatly punctures the bag of blood with one incisor, careful not to slop any on his rug. After countless years in the theater he understands the importance of presentation and that doesn’t include bloodstains on the carpet. He replays the scene in his mind. The man all dressed in black...the weapon...the unsuspecting woman setting up the store for the day...their scuffle...the impossibly loud sound of the gun...that stunned look of recognition the assailant gave him before fleeing down the alley.

  The whole scenario seems less like a crime of convenience in this new light. Could it be the assailant was after the woman and not the cash? He turns up the volume on the television.

  Jeremy Landis, ex-military renegade responsible for creating a horde of feral vampires, had apparently been in custody until a very recent escape. A shudder works its way down Dax’s spine. Since their existence has been known, many vampires have feared being used as lab rats as humans try to understand their superior strength. Even though the police force has its own vampire liaison, many vampires still don’t feel safe. Though he lives and works among humans, Dax keeps his true nature a secret. He knows several of his coworkers suspect what he is, but no one has asked outright and he doesn’t volunteer the information.

  Dante Rodriguez, the police force’s vampire liaison, is speaking on the television now. It would seem the law has put the pieces of the puzzle together after all. Rodriguez’s partner Xandra Wheeler stands solemnly behind him. They form a striking pair, the theater manager in him can’t help thinking, Dante’s light to Xandra’s dark. Dax pulls himself from his musing as he catches the phrase armed and dangerous to both vampires and humans. Do not approach. Well, that would have been good information to have before...

  He’s certain now that the crime wasn’t just an opportunity for a man on the run to grab some easy cash. The scene runs through his mind once again. If the woman was the target, then why? He turns through the possibilities in his mind. Is it possible she isn’t as human as she appears either?

  She’s not a vampire. Of that he is sure. But if not a vampire, then what is she?

  It all starts with the woman and the scene of the crime. Dax finishes his breakfast and turns back into the kitchen to throw the empty bag in the trash. He needs to talk to her, but the daylight has betrayed him. Even though his blinds are drawn, he can feel that the sun has climbed high in the sky.

  He tries to reassure himself that the police are on it. The vampire liaison and his female partner have taken the case. Dax works in theater. He has no police or military training. He should let the professionals handle it. Yet, with one impulsive move, he’s gone and put himself in the middle of it. Now his conscience won’t stop nagging him. He can’t just leave a menace to both humans and vampires out on the street.

  Still, even though she knew what Dax was, she didn’t reveal his nature to the media or the police. That has to mean something.

  The day is lengthening, the sun climbing the sky. Sleep pulls on every muscle. He longs to crawl into his four-poster bed with its blackout curtains and sleep away the daylight. But if he does, he may never see her again. And he has to know.

  Questions spring to mind. If she knew what he was, then why did she keep his true nature a secret? She must have known the police would jump on a situation like this. Crimes involving vampires often become volatile situations. Humans are quick to fear and judge the creatures living among them. Creatures they don’t truly understand. So why did she give only a vague description of him? Who is she? What is she? What is her place in this frighteningly bizarre situation? And how did he manage to blunder into this mess?

  It all starts with the woman...

  Shaking off sleep, Dax grabs a dark hoodie and some leather gloves and heads out the door.

  CHAPTER TWO

  IT’S EASIER THAN IT used to be to traverse the city streets in the daylight. Buildings have been constructed so high and so tall, they block most of the sun’s light. Still, a grown man wearing a black hooded sweatshirt drawn down over his face is bound to attract attention among throngs of gray-suited office workers, so Dax keeps to the back alleys when he can.

  It’s damp and cool in the laneways. The scent of rotting garbage hangs thickly in the air. Still, it’s a relief from the burning sun. Even though he’s hurrying through the shadows, he can feel its searing rays all around him. It’s not just the sun he needs to worry about. Now that the police know who they’re dealing with, they’ll be watching the area.

  Sure enough, there is a police cruiser parked in front of the store. A bored officer sits in the car. Dax inches toward the end of the alley, making sure to hug the shadows. The cop in the car is human, no match for his speed and stealth.

  Even though the police have identified the assailant, they’re clearly still thinking the robbery might perhaps be only a crime of convenience because no one is guarding the back door or the window beside it. It requires little of Dax’s strength to wedge the window open wide enough to slip inside. Quietly he closes the window, careful not to alert anyone inside. He doesn’t want to frighten the woman. Nor does he want to tip off any other police officers who might be inside.

  For a moment he stands silently, reaching out with his senses. There’s only one occupant in the store. Female. Human, he thinks at first, then changes his mind. Almost human. Human and...something else.

  He doesn’t want to frighten her. The last thing he needs is for her to cry out and alert the police officer in the car out front. He knows she saw him and if he can tell she is something more than human, she would recognize that he is as well. It’ll only be a matter of seconds before she registers his presence.

  MYAH KEEPS ONE EYE on the front door. The police have returned and the news isn’t good. It only took one clear frame from the surveillance camera next door for the police’s vampire division to realize who the perpetrator was. But they still believe it was merely a crime of a convenience, a desperate man on the run looking for some easy cash. If only that were true.

  She can’t leave the store. She’s promised the owner, she’ll wait until she returns. Now the police want to talk to the owner as well. So far the only police officers at the store have been human, but that could change. The last thing she needs is for anyone on the vampire liaison team to show up. She needs to leave now, but she can’t go.

  So far she’s managed to keep most of the memories at bay. But the vivid recollection of cold steel, sharp implements, pain and terror are only one thought away. Stay in the present, she tells herself sternly. Nothing is happening at the moment.

  That thought no sooner crosses her mind when she becomes aware of another presence in the store. Someone not human. Someone other, like herself. She opens her mouth, not sure whether to call for the human officer in the car outside or not.

  “Please don’t,” says a melodic voice from the back room. “I’m not here to hurt you. I just want to talk.”

  Myah recognizes the voice. It’s the man from this morning. The man who intervened, saving her from what she is certain would have been a far more gruesome crime than the police imagine.

  “I’m going to step out of the back room now,” he says in that calming voice. “I promise you, you’re completely safe with me.”

  “Honestly, I doubt you can make that claim.” Her tone sounds far more confident than she feels.

  She can only see the bottom of his face in the shadows of the back room, but she gets the impression of a square jaw and full lips. It appears to be a pleasant enough face. Handsome even. Then again, a lot of his kind are. A ghost of a smile crosses his face. “I’ve, uh, eaten already this morning. So yes, I can make that claim.”

  “That’s what you were here to do this morning,
weren’t you?”

  He doesn’t reply, which is answer enough.

  “You know that’s illegal.”

  Another quirk of those generous lips. “So is robbing a store.”

  “You were looking for a victim who wouldn’t report you because then he’d have to report the robbery as well.” She tosses the accusation into the space between them.

  His jaw hardens as he realizes she’s seen through his deception. “I prefer the term donor, but that’s essentially the idea.”

  She’s surprised he admits it. Most of his kind wouldn’t. “It’s still illegal.” It’s all she can think to say.

  “And again, so is robbery.” He pauses, then says. “Or whatever that was.”

  And there it is. He knows it was no simple robbery. He knows who Jeremy is, but he likely can’t discern what she is. He’s come back to find out what he’s blundered into. The anger she’s buried so deep inside springs free. All those months of rebuilding her identity blown in one instant because a vampire wanted a fresh meal. She starts to say this, but then she remembers that if it wasn’t for him, she might be back in that maniac’s clutches. And that would be a lot worse than trying to hide the truth from the police.

  He’s waiting for her to say something, probably hoping she doesn’t yell for the police officer still sitting in the car. Her eyes dart in that direction, a gesture she knows his keen eyesight catches immediately.

  “Please don’t,” he whispers again. “I only want to talk. I just want to know what I’ve gotten myself into.”

  “You probably don’t.”

  “Right. But since I am in it now, it might be a good idea to know, don’t you think?”

  “Debatable.” She knows she’s being difficult. He did intervene in a dire situation, even though he had ulterior motives. She should give him points for that.