Blood Harvest

by Michael Weinberger

  Then, as if on cue, a commando staggered out of the darkness of the tunnel to the left. His face was so pale it rendered a sickly grey pallor even in the red glow. When Steve brought the rifle up and hollered for the man to freeze, the man didn’t seem to hear. He walked uneasily around the tunnel as if he might fall over at any moment. When he was close enough for Steve to see him in the remnant light, Steve observed the man was missing his right arm. The wound was jagged and the flesh was torn in an unusual manner. Bone extended from the wound which Steve recognized as part of the shoulder girdle and not the arm. This type of wound was not a result of an extremity being blown off from artillery or chopped off with some kind of blade. This man’s arm had been wrenched out of the socket and torn from the body by sheer force.

  The man staggered a few more steps then collapsed either in shock or from blood loss. Oddly, Steve didn’t have any more pity for this man than he had for the one he’d shot back in the main chamber. Moving cautiously into the left tunnel Steve now found himself in total darkness. Aware of his vulnerability in the blackness, Steve retreated to the fork in the tunnel where the armless man had collapsed. Finding exactly what he was looking for, he removed the night vision goggles from the man’s head, checked to verify they were still working and looped them over his own head. He would have to wait until he was in perfect darkness before he could activate the goggles or risk being blinded by the remaining light.

  The commando on the floor began to moan softly, “My arm feels asleep. Hey, did I fall asleep on my arm again?”

  The man was talking to Steve as if they knew each other.

  “I feel really cold. It’s dark and dirty down here. Can I go home now?” he asked Steve in a boyish voice.

  “Soon,” Steve answered though he wasn’t sure why until he spoke again.

  “Did you complete your mission soldier?” Steve asked in as much an authoritative voice as he could muster. It had the effect he was hoping as the man straightened his back, or tried to, and spoke in a soldier’s voice.

  “Yes sir! I extracted the minimum total of twenty targets before the final execution order came in. Once the order came in I stopped the extraction and began the cleaning protocol, but…”

  The man’s voice trailed off as his eyes began to glaze over.

  Shouting like the police boot camp drill sergeant he had when first entering the LAPD, Steve bellowed, “What do you mean ‘but’!!! There are no ‘buts’ except of course your ‘butt’ which I am personally gonna fill with my perfectly shined boots granted to me by the government and paid for by the taxpayers for a grand total of twenty-nine-ninety-five.”

  As he hollered the man fought to regain his composure, so Steve stayed at him. “Those self same individuals gave of their hard earned money to buy said boots so that those boots would help me protect them in their time of need. Soldier, those poor people would cry in their respective diapers if they found out I soiled their gift to me by embedding one in your ass! So you better answer me truthfully now! Did you complete your mission?”

  “The children were extracted as ordered. I purged as many of the adults as I could before…before…”

  “Before what soldier?!”

  Steve would have questioned the man more but as the commando spoke his last word he fainted. Steve turned his back on the dead or dying man and bounded heedlessly into the tunnel. When it got so dark he couldn’t see his hand before his face, Steve lowered the night vision goggles into place and switched them on. The whole world took on an eerie green glow. Steve followed the path until he ran across another, far smaller, cavern that appeared to have been used to house computer equipment. All the remaining equipment had been shattered or destroyed.

  A light emanated from another tunnel at the far end of the cavern. As best he could tell, no one stood between the light in the distance and the opening of the tunnel. Still Steve proceeded cautiously, checking every shadow for movement, carefully placing each footstep where he planned while intently listening to his immediate environment.

  Eventually Steve reached the opening of the tunnel without being attacked or molested. As he entered the tunnel the glow inside the night vision goggles was becoming uncomfortably bright. He checked to see if there was enough ambient light to see by. Determining there was sufficient light to work without putting himself at risk, he returned the goggles to the top of his head and moved forward.

  The sight of the trash on the ground told him he was near a vertical mineshaft opening like the one he had dropped down from earlier. The topography indicated it was not the same one. Finding a rope conveniently left behind by the commandoes, Steve began to climb up to the surface. Since finding his way back through the darkness would not be possible, Steve looked up and estimated the distance to the surface to be around seventy-five to ninety feet and an absolutely vertical climb. Steve ignored the rope and found his first handhold on the side of the mineshaft and began to climb the vertical rise as quickly as if he were a lizard scurrying up the side of a tree. Memories of his childhood flooded into him as he instinctively found the next hand hold and foot fall. He continued to climb as muscles he hadn’t fully used in years obeyed his commands and brought him further and further to the surface as the floor of the mineshaft fell out and away from under his feet.

  It still took longer than it should have for Steve to reach the surface. Just when he thought the burn in his arms would make finishing the climb impossible, his hand cleared the tunnel and found purchase on horizontal earth. Struggling to raise himself through the opening, he finally succeeded and breathed in the night air, unspoiled by the pungent smell of dirt and death.

  Steve rolled to his feet to find Alpha standing, with his back to him, by the opening of the mineshaft he had initially descended.

  “You see what I was trying to prevent, boy? Do you understand the stakes?” Alpha sounded weak and defeated as he spoke.

  Steve watched Alpha in silence.

  Alpha sat on the ground next to Steve, placed his head in his hands and began to weep.

  “It’s happening again. God help me it’s happening all over again.” Alpha kept repeating miserably.

  Chapter 31

  Steve stared at Alpha and studied the man more thoroughly. As Alpha sat there trying to regain his composure, Steve noticed three areas on Alpha’s black leather coat that appeared to shine more than the rest of the garment.

  “Are you wounded?”

  Alpha looked up at Steve and followed his gaze to the splotches of wetness on his person. Lifting the fabric up and away from his body Alpha peered inside his clothes.

  “No, I’m all right. Must be someone else’s blood,” Alpha said confidently. But even in the darkness Steve was pretty sure he could see blood coming from underneath the material. It certainly didn’t look like splashes from others.

  “What about you?” Alpha said and gestured to Steve’s temple.

  Steve abruptly raised his right hand to his temple and felt the crusting of dried blood. When his fingers pressed harder, pain seared the side of his head and his fingers sank into a shallow wetness which he discovered when he pulled his hand back, was blood.

  “What? When the hell did that happen?” Steve said, amazed a bullet had so nearly killed him. Only a couple inches to the left and it would have turned his lights out like a light switch. He would have never known what hit him. Hell, he hadn’t even been aware of being under direct fire. “Alpha we should go. Are there any vehicles we can use?”

  “Several, but I have to stay and search for any who may have survived.”

  “Alpha…”

  Alpha held up a hand. “What would you do in my place?”

  Steve hated to admit it but he said, “All right, let’s see if we can find anyone.”

  Chapter 32

  The macabre scene they witnessed as they returned to the tunnels was overwhelming. Frustration and sadness overcame them as each body they checked was lifeless and cold. For hours they searched, turning bodies over
and checking for pulses, only to be met with more silence and death.

  Sounds of footsteps came from the distance and intensified until a dozen figures appeared before them. Alpha cheered as he rushed towards the men. Steve had to push himself to keep up with his former mentor. Steve recognized some of his former fellow hunters, each wearing huge smiles in response to seeing Alpha alive. The smiles quickly faded at the sight of Steve, replaced with uncertainty about how to react to the familiar face who used to be one of their numbers.

  Alpha noticed the uneasiness and said, “It’s all right. The boy’s come home.” Each hunter looked from Alpha to Steve and immediately the smiles returned to everyone’s faces.

  Everyone’s but Steve’s, who whispered angrily to Alpha, “We’ll settle that later.”

  “There’s something else boy.” Alpha said hesitantly.

  “What?” “Look around for who is missing. They have Lei.”

  * * *

  Despite his appearance for having trekked through the desert, not to mention the copious amount of dried blood on his clothing, Steve had no problem passing undetected through the hospital. The fourth floor was quiet. Only the hum of computers and the soft tread of a nurse’s rubber soled shoes on the linoleum floor echoed gently through the halls. Steve made his way to the only nurse at the nurse’s station to ask where Chris might have set up a temporary office. The woman was busy on the computer and never even looked up to observe the state Steve was in.

  When he asked about the M.E. from Los Angeles the nurse let out an exasperated sigh.

  “Oh, him.” The sound of disgust in her voice was unmistakable.

  “I see you’ve met him.”

  “I can’t wait until my shift replacement arrives in the morning to release me. He keeps wandering the hospital. Last time we found him in the children’s wing, after visiting hours! If you ask me we should have him bound to his desk or sedated until morning. If he’s back where he’s supposed to be then you’ll find him in room 140 west.”

  Steve had no good response for that tirade. Instead, he thanked her and began a search for his troublemaking friend.

  Chris was actually in his makeshift office when Steve looked in. His body was hunched and he appeared on the verge of falling asleep on his laptop.

  “Hey.” Steve said softly in an attempt not to startle his friend.

  When Chris raised himself up and turned to Steve his eyes immediately shifted into a wide-eyed look of panic and concern. “Steve! Jesus, what happened?”

  Steve raised his hands, “I’m fine Chris, but if you wouldn’t mind, I wonder if there is a place where I could clean up?”

  “This is a private room with a shower. Chris stood and gestured. Help yourself…or do you need help?”

  Steve reasoned he must look a whole lot worse than he realized if Chris was treating him with kid gloves. He was about to give Chris a run down about the entire evening when he caught a glimpse of himself in a mirror and was stunned into silence. The sight shocked him. He was more than dirty and disheveled, he looked absolutely ghoulish. Dark circles had formed around his eyes and his skin was very pale to the point he appeared deathly.

  “Steve?” Chris asked gently. “Where’s your flask?”

  “I…I don’t know.” Steve said in honesty.

  Chris studied him, “Are you wounded?

  Surprised by the interrogative tone, Steve answered directly, “I’m fine, but I was grazed.”

  “You may not be wounded but you are far from fine. Have that shower then I’ll see to that cut on your head.”

  As Steve turned to face Chris, his peripheral vision sensed, more than saw, movement in one corner of the well darkened room shadowed by the low lights.

  “Steve don’t…” But Steve held up a hand to cut off Chris’ statement.

  Chris read Steve’s face and realized something was awry. Alpha emerged, materialized out of the shadows of the room. It was an improbable sight to witness. How could someone so large suddenly take shape out of such a small space? The power and the sense of threat Alpha conveyed combined with his own grizzled appearance would cause the dead to shiver.

  When Chris saw Alpha he stumbled backward in surprise. He tried too quickly to right himself, lost his footing and fell on the polished linoleum floor in a reverse ballet of coordination. Unable to find his footing, Chris pushed himself backward away from Alpha as fast as he could until he slammed himself into the far wall of the room.

  The vaudevillian act was enough for Alpha and Steve to turn their concentration on Chris as he rubbed the back of his head.

  A rasping cough emitted from Alpha. It was low and rhythmic but growing in intensity. Steve looked back at Alpha as did Chris, who kept rubbing the spot on his head.

  The neutral expression on Alpha’s face was usual, but his body bounced and writhed with every cough. The speed of the cough increased until it became uncontrollably rapid. Steve watched Alpha as the sound changed to less like a cough and more like…

  Laughter.

  It wasn’t until Chris started chuckling that Steve began to relax. Within seconds he too was laughing along with Chris and Alpha, who was now smiling like an idiot and pointing at Chris in full frivolity.

  Chris shook his head and said, “Okay, I know a truce when I see one. Since both of you are apparently in need of stitching and I’m the only one in the room with any medical training, I’d suggest someone help me up before I have the two of you to take off your pants, bend over and sing Moon River.”

  Chapter 33

  Steve let Chris stitch him up and showered while Alpha underwent more rigorous treatment including a bullet removal from his side. He then dressed in a fresh pair of scrubs that had been provided while his clothes were being cleaned, the fresh smell and feel of the simple fabric on his skin was heavenly after having been grimy for so long.

  As he left Chris’ room a nurse informed him that he should report to the lab where Chris had set up his makeshift workstation. Steve wandered through the halls of the University Medical Center and wondered why all hospitals had to have the same plain, boring and antiseptic look about them. Silently speculating why the floors, walls and ceiling always had a vanilla wash with a smattering of pastel color that was what passed for design within the healthcare industry. The banality of the atmosphere, Steve was sure, was detrimental to the healing process of the patients within the walls. Certainly it would dampen the spirit of anyone wafting through the establishment hoping to receive friendly care.

  Taking a moment to consider whether physicians ever considered that an unpleasant, colorless setting could, in fact, cause a person’s health to deteriorate, Steve moved through the doors denoting the laboratory where Chris had been working since he had dropped Steve off in the desert some 36 hours ago.

  Steve hated hospitals, although not for the same reasons as Alpha, and did everything he could to avoid them. The unease he felt stemmed from his desire for raw blood, the smell of which was still pronounced in the hospital despite the antiseptic cleaners used on a regular basis by the janitorial crew, mixed with his self-loathing over having the desire in the first place. Nevertheless, Steve stifled the sick combination of emotions and quickened his pace to Chris’ lab. When he arrived he found Chris hunched over a stack of medical files and reference books, most of which had the word “Neurology Department” embossed on the side of the jacket.

  When Chris looked up, Steve froze. The apprehension on his friend’s face was evident and although Steve could tell he wasn’t the cause, he couldn’t imagine what would make such a carefree soul as Chris look so concerned.

  Steve finally found his voice. “Jesus Chris, you look as though…well you’ve looked better. C’mon, I’m getting you out of here.” Steve motioned as if he might lift his friend out of the chair when Chris jumped back as if afraid of his friend’s touch.

  “NO!” Chris was wide-eyed with intensity, then realized his reaction was out of place and physically calmed. “No. Not yet. Not yet.
Let me show you what I found first.” Chris looked past Steve, “Where’s the brute squad?”

  “Alpha? He’s still cleaning himself up.”

  Chris hesitated before he spoke. “Don’t be mad but, I took some blood swatches from both of you and sent them out.”

  Steve was more confused than upset. “Why’d you do that?”

  “Just the M.E. in me, popping up with questions when I hadn’t intended to ask any.”

  Steve sighed. “I don’t have any more secrets Chris, not from you in any case.” “I believe you. Maybe there is something in your blood that will give us answers as to why Alex Daniels wants your people.”

  “Is that all that’s bothering you at the moment?”

  Chris looked to his computer screen and shook his head. “No. At the moment that is the least of my concerns.”

  “Chris what’s…”

  Chris held up his hand, cutting Steve off. “I know. I know. I am a little freaked out at the moment, but let’s just leave it alone for now. I think I have an idea of what kind of weapon is being used to put people into “stasis.”

  It was Steve’s turn to offer a wide-eyed look, masking his excitement for the breakthrough and apprehension for whatever the findings might be. Steve couldn’t help but feel animated; he tempered his emotions however, based on whatever was bothering his friend. The look on Chris’ face told Steve that Chris was determined to be heard, so he compromised his need for answers regarding his friend’s condition and nodded for Chris to proceed.

  “Just promise me that as soon as you’re done explaining you’ll tell me what’s up with you.”

  A wry smile crossed Chris’ lips but his eyes still conveyed his anxiety. He took a deep breath and composed himself before rolling his chair to his laptop computer. He positioned the laptop on the edge of the table and scooted the chair about two feet from the edge. He checked the area surrounding the desk and chair, then placed a small leather rod, about six inches long and half an inch in diameter on the table next to the computer. Steve looked dumbfounded at the leather rod with several small indentations about a third of the way down the shaft on either side. Before Steve could ask Chris spoke: