The Blood Born Tales (Book 2): Blood Dream

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The Blood Born Tales (Book 2): Blood Dream Page 28

by T. C. Elofson


  “Well shit…” I said, with a shrug. I was starting to feel less than confident that we were conquering this evil.

  “Well, where does that leave us?” Kat asked.

  “We need to find them somehow. Find all the other ex-vampires that are now under this demon’s control,” I told the room.

  “Not me,” Joe said. “I have to meet my contact.”

  “Where are you going to go now, Joe?” Kat asked.

  “It’s time I go underground. Into the dark,” he said mysteriously.

  Joe climbed to his feet and made his way to the door when Kat called to him.

  “Agent Tango. Thank you for trusting me enough to come here.”

  “Of course, Detective O’Hara. And thank you again for helping me. I might have been found if not for you.”

  And with that, Joe was gone. He slipped out the door with almost no sound. I couldn’t take my eyes off of O’Hara. She seemed almost sad to see him leave. As if she was a mother hen. Had her protective instincts kicked in on this one or was there something else she had been feeling? I was certain that she liked Agent Tango, but I wasn’t sure why.

  I turned to Kenny and wondered what could be done. This was it. The time when it seemed we could crash and burn or race across the finish line. But would we be winners or losers in this race? There had to be some way for us to fight this wicked force. And some way of locating the potential ex-vampire victims that we hadn’t thought of yet. But what?

  “Hey, can you guys feel other vampires?” Kat asked, suddenly perking up.

  “What? Sorry, Detective?”

  “You know, like in the vampire novels. Can you sense when others are close by?”

  “Sorry, no,” Kenny said with a small snort.

  “Well, hold on, man. I have been able to feel you close by. But I figured it was because we have always been close and our minds formed some kind of bond.”

  “So how come Tim feels that and not you, Detective?” Kat questioned Kenny. He didn’t answer.

  “Well, Fabiana told me her blood was very strong and she’s the one who turned me into an immortal for a short while. Maybe that’s why,” I said.

  “Well, I drank from Cognatus. He was the oldest vampire alive.”

  Kenny sounded almost playfully defensive. It was good to have him back again.

  “But Fabiana had been drinking from other vampires for years for one purpose—to become so powerful that she could destroy Cognatus. Her blood had greater gifts and maybe opened my mind a bit more. I really haven’t thought about it.”

  “Maybe you should,” Kenny added. “It may be our only option in locating the others who could be in danger.”

  “I wouldn’t even know where to begin. I would normally just ask Fabiana.”

  “Well she’s not here. So just focus on them. What does she call it? Oh yeah, ‘reaching out’ with her mind.”

  Even though the abilities of reading minds had made things a little easier for me, I had never really embraced the gifts I had received as a vampire. I was human and wanted to keep my humanity. I didn’t like the feeling that I was one of them. I was still me. Right?

  Moments later I found myself sitting at Kat’s dinner table. All the lights were dimmed and the small, flickering glow of a lavender candle bounced its soft illumination in front of me.

  I was going to attempt a mental projection, or mind dream, as it was referred to in vampire circles. Some people even called it astral projection. Astral projection was the act of separating the astral, spiritual body from the physical body. Normally this would occur as part of the sleep process, but I needed to do a ‘waking projection’, as Fabiana called it. This usually occurred at the deepest dream level. When a person is conscious of this separation, it is called conscious astral projection or out-of-body traveling. To be aware of this act or event is a highly sought-after goal for vampires. I was not altogether confident that I could pull it off. In truth, I was highly doubtful.

  Through conscious astral projection I would be able to remember events that occurred during my journey, but still the thought was disconcerting to me. On such journeys, the conscious mind traveling within the astral body can explore not only various earthly places, but also different realms within other dimensions. I had no such unworldly goals on this night. I just wanted to find the vulnerable ex-vampires before it was too late. This conscious astral projection can be induced through deep meditative states. The experience of traveling while in this astral state can be accomplished by methods such as a dream-like flight or by visualizing the destination that I wished to visit. However, I did feel confident that if any of this was to be achieved, I would first have to go into a state of calm.

  When I was young I studied martial arts from one of the most highly respected and honored Japanese instructors in the United States. I was immersed in the Japanese culture for over half my life, and above all else, the one thing that I remembered best was my Zen training. Japanese Zen is a form of deep spiritual meditation that has its origins in China.

  This kind of self-reflection gives insight into one’s true nature, or the emptiness of inherent existence, which opens the way to a liberated way of living. Zen teaches us that all human beings have the potential to awaken. All living creatures are supposed to have the Buddha-nature but don't realize this as long as they are not awakened.

  As a child, I was taught in my zazen meditation to first envision a Japanese garden full of wondrous colors and smells. To envision cherry blossoms, trickling fountains, and ponds of koi fish. Then, one by one, slowly take something away until you have nothing left in your mind but the peace you seek. Only then will you achieve the awakening you need. During my youth, I had only obtained anything close to this a few times. But that was in my youth, I told myself. I was young and impulsive then. Now I was mature and sure of myself. I hoped anyway.

  I had sent everyone out of the room for over an hour as I worked to calm my mind and reach some form of awakening. I was surprised by how fast I actually felt some kind of progress. Maybe it had been all those years of serious study of my Zen disciplines as a kid. Or maybe it was the awakening of my mind from the gifts of the vampire blood. I really didn’t know. But after an hour in my zazen meditation, or sitting meditation, my mind began to drift out of my body. At first just slightly, and then with the speed of a small bird, then a hawk. I flew through the roof of Detective O’Hara’s Fremont home as if I were a spirit not held down by any solid form. Soon enough, I was soaring through the city, beyond darkened streets. Lights of cars and streetlamps blurred past me.

  The city of Seattle was uncomfortably cold in the unforgiving, unrelenting weather. It was clear and thriving and drenched in electric light. A gentle breeze moved in from the sea, across the dark rooftops of tall and menacing buildings, and through lonely alleyways hiding the décor and poor souls of the unwelcome.

  My mind soared past an army of fashionable young men pouring into a club in Capital Hill, displaying their muscles for one another. Each one so proud of their streamlined, toned, sexy figures. Then I caught sight of him across town in one of the old stucco buildings the city was known for. Once the middle-class shelters of the aged, these structures were now reborn in the smart pastel colors of Seattle’s Greenwood neighborhood.

  On the distant horizon a great storm was gathering. I could feel it. But at first I wasn’t sure what I was enduring. Then she called me to her. My mind was pulled. No. Not pulled. Ripped from the city and consumed by a blur of images as I raced past city to city. Seattle was suddenly nowhere to be seen, and then Tacoma was a blur behind my mind. Olympia and Centralia flew by with such force I hardly could see them. I came crashing down through the dark, dense woods of Toledo once more. Trees were whipping by me, and then there were the steel props of airplanes. And then blackness.

  Yes, it was blackness. Black so dark I felt as if I was panicking under the depths and pressure of the ocean floor. I heard her voice for only an instant and then it was gone. Suddenly pa
in filled my skull and I could taste blood. I felt dazed as the sound of footsteps filled my ears and I was suddenly aware of hands on me.

  “Tim! Tim, are you all right?”

  Kenny’s voice was in my head.

  “What? What happened?”

  “I don’t know, man. I think you passed out. What do you remember?”

  “Hold on. I’m trying but… it was all so weird.”

  Then my third eye flashed to her again.

  “Fabiana.”

  “What about her, Tim?”

  “They’ve taken her.”

  “Who? Who’s taken her?” Kenny asked urgently.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Okay, guy, focus,” Kat said. “What about the ex-vampire? The potential victim? Did you find him?”

  “Yes. In Greenwood. I have a fix on him.”

  “So, Tim and I will go to Greenwood. And, O’Hara, can you go to Acacia in case we miss him? If you need to, shoot to kill. Don’t let that asshole get close. Alright?”

  “Yeah, fine, but I don’t know what he looks like.”

  “Tall, thin, black hair. Maybe 200 pounds,” I told her and I could see she thought Kenny was dismissing her again, dismissing her abilities as a cop. But he wasn’t. On the contrary, Kenny was trusting her. Trusting her to do what needed to be done in case we failed.

  “And, O’Hara… Thanks. For being patient.”

  “You’re welcome, Detective.”

  “Call me Kenny.”

  Chapter 59

  1:25 a.m., May 7

  Close to two o’clock in the morning, Blue Ridge’s crashing waves spread white foam on the private beach as if the heaving sea were frothing at the moon.

  Trent was quiet on the wooden steps as he stepped down the length of the walk and climbed over the railroad tracks, making his way down the beach. The artificial Japanese villa was wooden with multiple chimneys and archways and a sharply pitched red barrel tiled roof. In the back where he made his way were copper lights and a stone table. His destination was the door in the rear. It would be unlocked and waiting on the other side would be the agent that left his print on the vial, Agent Joe Tango.

  User319 had taken a risk in coming to Seattle to help the agent. The risk of exposure was growing with every waking moment, but he had already gotten one agent killed through negligence and he wasn’t about to be responsible for another. He had always like Jack Mitchell and had mourned his loss for months. Because he was the one who had gotten him killed. It was his messages that led Special Agent Jack Mitchell into that bar that night. It seemed like yesterday. He knew—and Jack knew—the vampires would be watching him, and Trent wanted Jack to draw them out. His recklessness had been the direct cause of Jack’s death. But not again. No more deaths.

  The door of the home opened. From the shadows beneath the staircase, Joe’s eyes caught him. User319 stepped forward. There was nothing left for their meeting but that final gesture of greeting.

  “So good of you to drop by,” Joe said, shaking his hand.

  “I hope, Agent, you were able to make it this far without attracting too much attention.”

  “Yes, sir. Been quiet for some time. Which makes me worry even more.”

  “I tend to agree, Joe.”

  The two met eyes for a brief moment and they held their intensity until User319 broke the silence and reached into his coat pocket.

  “This, Joe, is for you. Forged documents. They’ll pass muster in any border in the world. And here are some IDs and currency, Canadian dollars and Euros. There’s a boat outside on the beach line. Your exit is this: drive the speedboat to Vancouver B.C. From there, take a flight from the Vancouver International Airport to Rome. Once in Italy, you’ll be on your own. I will contact you shortly after you arrive there. Take this as well. It’s a clean cell phone. But I wouldn’t use it more than twice.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Joe said gratefully and shook his hand once more.

  Those were the last words either man spoke.

  A shot rang out in the night, and then another. The muffled reports were distinguishable to Joe even through the myriad of distant sounds on the beach. User319 fell back inside the Japanese house and clutched his upper chest, reeling into the door frame. Joe spun around the stone railing of the stairs and aimed above the fence line, pulling the trigger twice. The first shot caught the assassin in the abdomen but the other found its mark in the soft tissue of his throat.

  Joe didn’t wait for another gunman. He turned and ran for the coastline. Black waves crashed down in a foamy soap of moonlit sparks around a JRM speedboat. It had barely been beached and as Joe threw his body over the wooden planks of the custom marine speedboat, it drifted back out to sea. With a twist of the key and a punch of the throttle, the 340-horsepower diesel engine rocketed the craft forward. In only a moment, a wake was all that remained of Joe’s time on the beach and he would travel as fast and as far as he could get with the fake documents in his possession.

  Joe prepared mentally for the challenge he knew might come one day. He prepared for the sound of gunfire. And if that day was to come, he would be ready, and he would face any enemy head on.

  Chapter 60

  2:00 a.m., May 7

  We stopped and were silent as we looked around. Kenny and I didn’t see any movement. There were no stray cats or mice—not even a rat or any sign that the ex-vampire might have been out there. I got closer to the building and saw that it was one of those red brick historical buildings with a green roof and nicely manicured grass. I was certain that it was the one I had seen in my waking vision.

  “How are we going to handle this, Tim?”

  “What? I say we kill him.”

  With that, Kenny fell silent.

  “What? You don’t agree? Wouldn’t that be better than letting the demon get a hold of him?”

  “Look, dude, this curse… pumping through my veins…”

  “You’re not cursed, man. And that’s all over now.”

  “Yeah? Maybe. Maybe not. Look, we can’t go killing someone that hasn’t done anything wrong. He’s human now. Yeah, he was a vampire and he did a lot of crap. But so did I. And I can’t change what I did to you, man.”

  “Kenny, I’m not asking you to.”

  “Look, I was evil and you fought to save me. I’ve got that demon in my head, man, and I can’t ever rip it out or scrub it clean. I’m a whole new level of freak.” Kenny was shaking now. “And I’m just trying to take this… this curse and make something good out of it. Because I have to.”

  “Let’s just talk to the vamp… I mean the guy, okay?” I asked finally. “And, Kenny… I’m sorry, man.”

  It was some time before the ex-vampire showed himself. He looked human enough with his short black hair and small frame. He looked to be the kind of person that could easily be missed. In fact, he had only been taken a month or so before he had turned back into a human. I dipped into his mind and read it all, the whole story. He had a family waiting for him. They never even knew what he was. He was made the night before Kenny was made. He really never knew who he really was, not supernaturally anyway.

  It was all so sad. But there was something else I saw when I looked at this man. I saw the evil that was in him. In just a short time as a vampire he had created more death and destruction than ten vampires combined. Given a few hundred years he could have become true evil. So I didn’t really feel the way that Kenny felt. But he needed to do it this way to… I don’t know, work some stuff out, I guess. Kenny had been going through some real psychological shit. At least that’s how it seemed to me.

  “Do you know what his name is?” Kenny asked me quietly.

  “John. John McCray. He’s been back with his family. They don’t know.”

  “What?”

  “I know, right? Crazy shit there.”

  “What did he tell them? About what happened? What could he possibly tell them?”

  “That he hit his head and forgot,” I told him. Kenny and I walk
ed behind him for over a block, the whole time keeping our distance just enough. Then I felt we had had enough games and I addressed him in my loud, authoritative cop voice.

  “John, can we talk to you for a moment?”

  And with that he was gone. He moved so much faster than I had ever thought possible.

  I ran with my head down, right through a barrier of thick bushes that lined the sidewalk of Greenwood Avenue North. The bushes scraped and cut my arms until there was blood. John McCray hadn’t gotten too far into a neighboring house.

  I raced for a few dozen steps after him and then hooked my wrist under the soft flesh of his chin and kicked out the back of one of his knees. I didn’t know it then, but the house that we had just gone crashing through was, in fact, his own. When Kenny came racing in just after me, he found John on his stomach and the barrel of my Smith & Wesson pushed to the back of his skull. A woman that turned out to be his wife was screaming for me to stop.

  “Don’t fucking move, John,” I was saying to him in a low, stern voice.

  “Freeze, ma’am! This is a police matter. I need to ask that you back away right now,” Kenny said as he held up his badge. Kenny had his gun on John, but I felt as if he was pointing it at me. I was now sure—more than ever—that this vampire needed to be put down.

  “Please! What is going on? What did my husband do?”

  His wife was shaking now and her soft white, delicate features looked even more brittle as tears were streaming down her face. She stood in the opening of the living room archway with only a single lamp illuminating the hall, and family photos stared back at us from dozens of small frames that hung on walls and sat on shelves.

  “What? This is your home, John?” I asked, trying to hide my surprise.

 

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