The Ortega Project

by Linnea Alexis

  “I understand,” she said, giving him the answer he wanted to hear. She shared his concern to protect their child, but refused to become a prisoner in her own home. From now on, she needed to be extra vigilant whenever she left the apartment.

  “Don’t ever forget how much I love you and the life growing inside you.” He kissed his fingertips and pressed them on her stomach.

  Being away from him had been devastating. How much time do we have? What will I do when he’s gone? She studied him, trying to burn his face in her memory. “Maybe the scientists are wrong. Maybe our future isn’t as grim as they predict.”

  He stroked her hair. “I wish that were true, babe. But for now, until we learn differently, or the scientists come up with a cure, we’ve got to make the most of whatever time we have left. Let’s make a pact right now and promise each other to focus only on the wonderful memories we’ve made. And the good sex. Promise?” He held her right hand between his palms and placed it over his heart.

  The front door opened.

  “Deanna and Alex are back.” She fumbled to repair her mussed up appearance and Roman did the same.

  “Hey, Rome,” Alex shouted.

  “Coming.”

  With their arms around each other, Grace and Roman joined their friends in the living room.

  Alex checked his watch. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but we gotta get back to the lab. We’ve been gone nearly an hour."

  "I know." Roman grabbed his jacket from the sofa and walked with Alex to the front door.

  Grace embraced Roman and stroked his back.

  He leaned down; tenderly brushed the hair from her face, and kissed her good night.

  29

  Roman

  On his way back to the lab, Roman rode an emotional high. Being with Grace had that effect on him. A wide grin still covered his face when Alex parked his truck in the parking lot.

  Opening the passenger door, Roman was immediately assaulted by chilly air blowing into the cab. His breath caught. He cupped his hands, blew into his palms, and rubbed them together. Since leaving Grace and Deanna, the temperature had dropped to below freezing, not unusual for elevation of over three thousand feet in Southern California.

  “Damn, it’s cold. Next thing you know, it’ll start snowing,” Roman said.

  “It is winter, by the way. A little snow in the foothills is hardly a rarity,” Alex said sarcastically.

  “Smart ass.”

  Guided only by dim parking lot lights, he eased himself out of the truck, and stepped onto the pavement. His footing faltered, forcing him to hang onto the door handle to keep from falling. Pain shot across his midsection. “Damn!”

  “Stay right there.” Alex wound his way around the back of the truck. “Hang on to me.” He linked arms with Roman and helped him across the lot. “You’re still hurting, aren’t you?”

  “It’s nothing. I must have pulled a muscle.” If he made anyone aware of the depth of his pain, he’d be confined to the institute and wouldn’t be able to see Grace. And he wasn’t going to let that happen.

  At the side entrance, he swiped his keycard, and pushed the door open. Immediately greeted by the warmth of the indoors, he stepped inside. The door slammed shut behind him.

  “Alex?” He would have sworn Alex had followed him inside. He popped the door open.

  Alex stood outside the entrance. “You might want to come out here and take a look.” He jerked his chin toward the side of the building. “We’ve got company.”

  Roman pulled his collar up around his neck for warmth before leaving the toasty hallway to return to the frigid, nighttime air.

  A shadowy figure emerged from the darkness and sauntered toward them.

  Gabriel! “What the hell are you doing here?” Roman snapped. “I thought you were done with this place.”

  “I’m here on business.”

  Alex scanned the parking lot. “Where’s Seth?”

  “Gone.”

  Fury shook Roman’s body. His hands formed tight fists. “What do you mean ‘gone’?” The sense of doom Roman sensed the last time he saw Seth had come to fruition. He would never see his friend again.

  “What part of ‘gone’ don’t you understand?” Sarcasm filled Gabriel’s voice.

  “Seth worshipped you.” Roman’s rage simmered, soon to erupt. His heartbeat quickened. “You were supposed to take care of him.” He lunged at Gabriel, who shoved him against the wall. With the wind knocked out of him, Roman slid down the side of the building and ended up in a heap on the cold pavement. Debilitating pain sliced through him as he tried pulling himself up. He couldn’t move. His body quaked and, even in the freezing temperature, sweat ran down his face. His teeth chattered as he waited for Gabriel to deliver the next blow.

  “I don’t want to hit you. Don’t make me,” Gabriel stood over him, his fists becoming lethal weapons.

  Alex grabbed Gabriel from behind and hurled him aside. “Knock it the fuck off, you know he’s still hurt. Take a poke at me instead and see what happens.”

  Gabriel smirked. He bounced on the balls of his feet and charged. Before landing a blow, Alex delivered a roundhouse kick to the side of Gabriel’s head, sending him flying against the building. He slid to the pavement next to Roman. Blood ran from his nose.

  Crawford charged from the building. “What are you trying to do? Put us on the sheriff’s radar?” His gaze darted past the empty guard shack to the road. He stared at Gabriel. “You were told to stay away. To disappear.”

  Gabriel wiped his bloody nose on the sleeve of his jacket.

  Doc charged out of the building and stared at Roman. “What happened?”

  “I fell.” He held out his hand and Doc pulled him to his feet. Searing pain stabbed his midsection, causing him to wince. “Something’s happened to Seth.”

  “Is that true, Gabriel?” Crawford asked.

  Gabriel dabbed at his nose with the back of his hand. The bleeding had stopped. “They got him.” He pushed away from the wall and stood.

  “Who’s they?” Doc asked.

  “Slayers. Well-trained, young ones. At least a half dozen of them. The sons-of-bitches ambushed Seth. They’re traveling in packs now, like the dogs that they are.”

  Roman wasn’t buying any of it. “What were you doing while this was going on?”

  “I swear I couldn’t stop them. They had Seth surrounded. There was a gunshot and then they dragged him away. He didn’t stand a chance. And when it was over, they cheered. Can you believe it?”

  “And you just stood by and watched him be killed?” Alex shouted.

  “I told you there were too many of them.” He dabbed at his bruised nose.

  Alex stepped toward Gabriel. “Since when has that ever stopped you?”

  Gabriel said nothing.

  Roman’s gut twisted. He blinked away tears that threated to pour out. Poor Seth! “Damn you!” He held his stomach and staggered toward Gabriel. “Why didn’t you try save him? He was your responsibility.”

  Crawford grabbed Roman’s shoulder. “That’s enough. Time to rein it in.” He turned to Doc. “Get him inside. I’ll deal with Gabriel.” He pulled him away and began walking in the opposite direction, toward the main entrance.

  “You sure you can handle him by yourself?” Doc asked.

  “It won’t be a problem.”

  Doc and Alex wound their arms around Roman’s waist and helped him toward the door.

  “Seth didn’t deserve to die.” Roman’s voice shook.

  Gabriel broke free from Crawford. “Alex! Come back here. I want to talk to you,” he shouted, rushing toward him.

  Alex offered no response.

  “Don’t walk away from me!” Gabriel yelled. “I need you guys.”

  Alex turned to Gabriel. “You don’t need us. We’re not like you anymore.”

  “You’re wrong, Alex. You’re just like me.”

  Alex resumed walking toward the building.

  “You can’t run away f
rom what you are,” Gabriel shouted.

  Roman’s body trembled. “You killed Seth,” he bellowed.

  “I told you I couldn’t stop the slayers. There were too many of them.”

  Without turning around, Roman and Alex kept walking.

  “Hey. Come back here,” Gabriel yelled.

  Alex stopped, but Roman and Doc stayed on course.

  “You can’t order me around. I’m not Seth.” Alex jogged to catch up with Roman and Doc, who swiped his card in the reader. Doc pushed the door open, allowing Roman and Alex to enter before him.

  “You okay?” Alex asked Roman.

  “Yeah. But I’m kind of curious why Gabriel decided to show his face around here again. He never does anything unless it benefits him. I think I’ll stick around and find out what’s going on.”

  Alex patted Doc’s shoulder. “You go on ahead. I’m going to stay here with Roman for a while.”

  “Will you make sure he’s all right?”

  “I will.”

  “I’ll be in the lab,” Doc said, and disappeared around a corner.

  Roman popped the door open far enough to watch Gabriel standing in the middle of the parking lot, staring at the ground.

  “He looks so vulnerable and…pathetic,” Alex noted. “I’ve never seen him more alone. I almost feel sorry for him.”

  “Don’t go soft on me now. Remember this is the guy who let Seth get killed.”

  “Shhh. Check it out.” Alex pointed at Crawford who headed toward Gabriel. The doctor put his arm around Gabriel’s shoulder and led him away. “I wonder what that’s about,” he asked after the pair disappeared around the corner.

  Roman rubbed his chin. “Haven’t a clue. Gabriel said he was here on business. What kind of business would he possibly have with Crawford?”

  It was beginning to snow. Large flakes floated slowly to the ground like white feathers. The outside light above the door illuminated the falling snowflakes, making them glisten like diamonds. Roman pushed open the door and stepped outside. He held out his hands, and watched the flakes melt on his palms.

  “Remember this?” Alex held his head back and let the snowflakes kiss his face.

  Roman faced skyward. “Yeah. It’s been a long time. Too long.”

  “Ever wish you could go back to when we were kids? And we could start over?”

  “Except for meeting Grace…every day, Alex. Every day.” He closed his eyes and let the snow fall gently on his eyelids. The cold flakes melted when they landed. Memories of long ago flashed before him. Pleasant memories.

  He always loved the snow.

  * * *

  Gabriel

  * * *

  In Dr. Crawford’s office, Gabriel stood at the window, playing with the zipper on his leather jacket as he watched the light snowfall. He knew the snow wouldn’t last and would disappear by the time the flakes reached the pavement. Yet whenever it snowed, he was overwhelmed with memories of his childhood in England.

  He splayed his hand on the window—cold to the touch. Like his conversation with Crawford.

  “Showing up her tonight was a foolish move. I warned you that sooner or later you’d be seen…which you were.”

  “Apparently.” How could he tell Crawford he’d been watching the institute since he’d left and deliberately made an appearance when he knew Roman and Alex were present? He missed the camaraderie being part of a warrior team. He especially missed Seth.

  Neither man looked at the other, but watched the parking lot instead.

  "I may have another assignment. Are you interested?” Crawford asked.

  He glanced at the doctor. "Of course," Gabriel whispered hoarsely as his fingertips swept across the cool windowpane.

  “This time, it’s a priest.”

  “Even better,” he answered, unable to hide his smile.

  Dr. Crawford laughed. “Excellent. Do my requests bother you?” Before Gabriel answered, he held up a hand. "Don't answer that. I don't want to know. I just want it done.” He handed Gabriel a business card. “Take care of him."

  Gabriel glanced at the card and grinned. “It’ll be a pleasure.” He zipped up his black leather jacket and raised the collar. "Is there anything else?"

  The doctor backed away from the window and wandered over to his desk. He sat in his chair, leaned back, and folded his hands. "You realize there will be others."

  "I'm sure of it," Gabriel answered, and slowly licked his lips. "Call me when you need me to take care of another problem."

  "You can count on it."

  Gabriel pulled keys from his jacket pocket. "Well Doc, I need to get going. It's feeding time."

  "Any chance of you ever re-joining the program?"

  "When you fix the formula. Talk to me then."

  30

  Doc

  The morning after Gabriel’s surprise visit, Doc Peters and Crawford were summoned by Father Bernard to St. Mary’s Catholic Church in San Juan Capistrano, located fifteen miles from the institute.

  The steeple bell tolled ten times as Doc Peters and Crawford reached the ivy covered walls surrounding the parish courtyard. They entered through double wooden gates leading to the church office and marched down the cobblestone path to Father Bernard's office.

  “Why do you think he wants to meet with us?” Doc fidgeted with a wadded up gum wrapper in his jacket pocket.

  Crawford seemed less concerned about the meeting. “You know these church types. They're always seeking donations. I'm sure this priest isn’t any different.”

  But Doc wasn't so sure. “He said it was urgent.”

  He held the door open for Crawford to pass through first, and followed him down the terra cotta tiled hallway leading to the carpeted reception area. Behind the antique cherry wood desk, a stick-thin, young brunette greeted them.

  “We're here to meet with Father Bernard,” Crawford announced.

  She flashed a toothy grin and fingered the pearl buttons on her cardigan. “Right this way,” she said, and escorted them into his office. She gestured to the two padded high-back chairs across the large cherry wood desk. “Please have a seat. Father Bernard will be right with you.” Once the men were seated, she left them alone and closed the door.

  The office was cold, severe. Floor to ceiling bookcases lined one wall. Behind the desk a huge open Bible rested on a cherry wood credenza. Above it, a large crucifix hung on the wall. A long, brown leather sofa covered most of the opposite wall. French doors to the right of the desk led to a brightly colored rose garden—a sharp and welcome contrast to the room's monotone décor. A subtle fragrance of roses wafted into the office.

  “Looking around this place reminds me of my too many years at Sacred Heart Catholic School,” Crawford remarked.

  Doc laughed. “Sorry, I can't relate. I never set foot in a church in my life.”

  “So this is a first. Sort of.”

  The wall clock chimed once. Both men checked their watches. Ten thirty. The door opened and they stood up as a stocky, middle-aged man strode in.

  “Good day, I'm Father Bernard,” he said, shaking their hands.

  Crawford introduced himself and Doc to the priest.

  “I want to thank you gentlemen for seeing me on such short notice. I’d intended to drop by the institute to speak with you personally, but my schedule didn’t allow me time to get away.” His pleasant demeanor quickly disappeared. “I'm hoping you can help us with a serious matter.” The priest wound his way around the desk and lowered himself into a leather chair.

  Doc swallowed hard. Did he hear correctly? Us?

  “Let me cut to the chase.” He leaned back and gazed through the glass doors. “We've heard rumors about your institute and its possible involvement with the undead.”

  Doc felt the blood drain from his face. His stomach churned. He and Crawford exchanged wide-eyed glances. Holy shit! He tried formulating a response, but panic ruled and his mind went blank.

  Crawford chuckled nervously and cleared his throat. “
Rumors. Nothing but rumors. Let me assure you that everything we do at the institute is completely above board.”

  “An interesting response. Considering.”

  Considering…what?

  After a long, uncomfortable pause, Crawford jumped to his feet. “If there's nothing else…”

  Eager to seize the opportunity for a hasty exit, Doc tried to do likewise, but his arms trembled and his heart pounded as he pushed himself up from his chair.

  Hopes were dashed when the priest pointed his index finger at the pair. “This meeting isn't over until I say it's over. Sit back down!”

  They slowly lowered themselves back into their chairs.

  “Allow me to apprise you of what we know,” Father Bernard exclaimed confidently.

  Doc gulped, fearing the worst. Sweat formed on his palms. The priest knows.

  Father Bernard pushed himself away from his desk and paced behind it before stopping at the French doors. “We're searching for Father Darius who contacted us regarding his quest to capture and destroy a clutch of vampires. Four of them. But he was especially interested in Romano Santos.

  “What led Father Darius to South Orange County was a band called Dark Syde. Apparently, the band’s singer is an alleged vampire—and a friend of Santos. When Father Darius traced the band to a local club in Mission Viejo, he knew Santos would be nearby. Months ago, he confirmed Santos was in the area and called us. Knowing he couldn't capture him and his vampires without help, he asked for reinforcements, but none were able to arrive in time. Killing the vampires one at a time would have been possible, but not four…” He lowered his eyes and shook his head.

  “I can’t see how any supposed vampires concerns us,” Crawford said.

  “Don’t act naïve with me. It may not be common knowledge, but you know very well vampires exist. Hunters have spotted these unholy creatures in the vicinity of your institute. Which leads me to conclude you're harboring them.” He hesitated. “Are you?”