Lost Son

by Marcus Abshire

 

  That would be the most logical assumption based on the evidence presented, my lord.

  Great, we had an Atlantean clone girl sleeping in our hotel room, the people we had been hiding from for ten years knows where we are and seem to be playing games with us and I had to go to New York and talk to vampires. Why did I answer my phone this morning?

  I reached over and grabbed my coat from the seat. I put it on and opened the door.

 

  Of course.

 

  Fifteen minutes later I opened the door of the hotel to see Jessica (I didn’t know what else to call her, I wasn’t calling her clone) sitting on the bed petting Neal.

  I smiled slightly as she turned to me as I entered, she looked down and saw the bag with the logo of a very famous fast food restaurant on it and I could almost see her start to drool.

  “Hungry?” I asked her, setting the bag on the table.

  “Yes, I’m starving.” She said and came over and sat across from me.

  I opened the bag and took out a burger, handing the rest to her. She tried to take her time but eventually was scarfing down the food like a, well, like a teenager.

 

  Just that she thinks I’m adorable and keeps calling me puppy.

  I almost choked on my food, but managed to keep it together.

  “So, I know you don’t remember your name, but if it’s okay with you, can I call you Jessica?” I asked.

  She turned thoughtful for a second, rolling the name around in her head for a minute.

  “How about Buffy?” She asked hopefully.

  I turned to Neal, staring at him.

  I believe she got that from the TV. There was a program on about a girl killing vampires.

  “No, I can’t call you Buffy, any other suggestions?”

  “Kim?” She asked, raising her eyebrows.

  I didn’t ask where she got that name, afraid of the answer, but it sounded harmless enough and if it made her feel better, what the hell?

  “Ok, Kim, nice to meet you, my name’s Jack and that’s Neal.” I said extending my hand.

  She looked at me for a few seconds, unsure of what to do.

  “You shake it, it’s a greeting.” I explained.

  “Oh.” She said and reached out and took my hand.

  “Now, until we can figure out what to do, how would you like to hang out with Neal in a nice house in the woods for a few days?” I asked, wiping my mouth, my belly full of burgers.

  “You mean a place with trees and birds and stuff?”

  “That’s exactly what I mean. I have some business to attend to that will take me all day and I think it would be best for you to stay safe until we can work out your predicament.”

  She got quite, thinking. She looked over to Neal who sat patiently nearby.

  “Is he going with me?” She nodded her head in Neal’s direction.

  “Yup, he will be with you the whole time. Neal is very smart and he will make sure nothing bad happens to you.” I told her.

  She looked from Neal to me, nodding her head.

  “Yeah, okay that sounds like fun. When do we leave?”

  I looked out the window and saw that the rain was still coming down hard, Kim still looked tired and I thought some more sleep would be good for her.

  “How about in the morning, we could all use some sleep.” I said.

  Kim opened another wrapper, and chomped down on a burger. She looked over at the bed and I could see weariness cloud her eyes.

  “Okay, that sounds good.” She answered over a mouthful of food.

  The next morning we made the drive to the house with no surprises. I pulled up to the secluded property and killed the motorcycles engine. Kim got off and looked around, excited to be here. It was a single story house on ten acres of land just outside of Guthrie. The property had tons of trees and Neal and I made sure it had electricity, water and a full refrigerator. We took care to keep the place ready in case we had to hole up here for a while.

  Neal came up and settled by Kim, content to just be near.

  I asked.

  Yes, you have a flight leaving at 1:15 p.m., arriving at JFK at 4:15 p.m. giving you almost two hours until sunset, plenty of time to get to the club.

 

  I don’t believe I have to tell you, but I will anyway, that it will no doubt be under surveillance. There is no telling what the police have decided to do after investigating the gunshots. I think it is ill advised.

 

  As you wish, my lord.

  Neal trotted off to follow Kim, acting as a friendly dog, but in reality keeping her from wandering off. Neal was actually an awesome babysitter, with the intelligence of a supercomputer and the body of an approachable dog, I was fully confident that they would be just fine together. Kim seemed perfectly absorbed in the world around her. I didn’t want to interrupt so I went inside, took a quick shower and changed clothes. The ones I had on were starting to get a little ripe.

  I walked outside feeling a bit refreshed, and saw Kim throwing a stick across the yard. Neal bounced after it, his tongue flopping happily from his mouth. The girl was laughing and when Neal brought the stick back she was on one knee waiting, Neal almost bowled her over and they both fell back, she started rubbing his fur while his tail wagged furiously.

  I just stood there for a second in stunned surprise.

  “Having fun?” I asked aloud, directing the question more towards Neal.

  He seemed startled by my question; apparently his play had allowed me to sneak up on him. Neal hopped off of Kim and they both gathered their composures.

  I was just behaving as a normal canine would. He sent to me.

  “Yeah, we were just playing catch.” She said, smiling at me in an infectious manner.

  I found myself smiling back at her.

  “I have to get going, Neal, keep an eye on her, I should be back no later than tomorrow morning.” I started to walk over towards my bike.

  “Wait.” Kim came hurrying over to me.

  I was again hit with a strong pang of protection for her, as if I was failing in my duties if I left her. She stopped in front of me, I could tell she wanted to say something, but hesitated, her eyes looked left, then right, before up at me.

  “Just, well, just be careful. Okay?” She said shyly.

  “Yeah, sure kid.” I answered, a little uncomfortable.

  I had only met her yesterday and her affection for me was a little odd, but traumatic experiences can sometimes drive people to form bonds quickly.

  I turned from her and got on my bike, starting it up. It rumbled in a deep throaty growl. I put it in gear and pulled away, the early morning quiet replaced by my motorcycle’s engine.

  Remember, my lord, be careful. Perform to your peak ability and if you must, retreat. Neal said in my head.

  I turned onto the paved street and headed back to where I was sure the local police and a few angry werewolves were waiting for me.

  Chapter six

  I stopped two blocks from my office and killed the engine. I made sure my sword was secure in its sheath behind my back, the cloaking pin still keeping it hidden. I pulled out my pistol from one of my saddlebags and put it in its holster under my leather jacket. I zipped it up about halfway, keeping it from swinging freely, but also letting me access to it if I needed to draw it.

  I started walking, leaving my motorcycle alone in a small parking lot of a local bar. No one would notice it unattended here. I made my wa
y towards the office and stopped at the corner of my block. My office was the second building from the intersection and I took a quick peek around the edge and saw a few empty cars parked on the street, none of them had anyone sitting in them, watching my building.

  I swung back, hiding myself again. That was odd, I would have bet money someone would have been there waiting. A gun battle in the middle of downtown wasn’t something the cops just ignored. I turned and walked the other way, towards the alley that led to the back of my apartment. I kept to the shadows and crept towards my back door. There wasn’t anyone waiting back here either. That didn’t mean someone wasn’t watching just that they weren’t out in the open about it. I’m sure once I went inside I would learn pretty quickly if my place was under surveillance.

  I stepped up to my door and unlocked it when I heard the soft sound of impact behind me. I turned around to see two men, badly in need of a shave, narrow their eyes at me while rising from a crouch, having jumped from the building they had been hiding on top of.

  “You have to be pretty damn stupid to show your face around here again.” The one on the left said.

  “It’s my home, where else am I supposed to go, the YMCA?” I said, backing up to where I was up against the door.

  “We are going to kill you now.” He said.

  “Why doesn’t your boss come get me himself, you two seem like a couple of goons, isn’t he tired of me killing his pack?” I asked, watching, waiting for one of them to make a move.

  “You are beneath him. He needs not dirty his hands with your like.” He growled.

  “Yeah, he sure was beneath me when I knocked him out and almost cut off his head.” I taunted, hoping one of them would lose it and come at me recklessly.

  Almost on cue the quiet one snarled and rushed me, his arm up, sharp claws at the ready. His buddy swore and reached into his jacket for a weapon.

  If they would have just shot me, they would have had a better chance, but the quiet ones wild rush gave me the edge I needed. He came in and tried to take my face off with his claws, he was far stronger than a human and would have been able to block any defense a person could muster, even if they were fast enough to get an arm up to stop him. I wasn’t human, and I saw his clumsy attack and easily brought my forearm up and stopped his descending hand cold. His eyes widened for a second and I used the distraction to punch him right in the solar plexus, feeling his bones break with a satisfying crunch.

  He let out a moan of pain and went sailing backwards from the power of my blow, right into his buddy who was waiting for an opening to shoot me in the face. They both went down in a tumble of arms and legs when I reached back and drew my sword from its sheath, the metal gleamed with a blue hue as I took a step towards my attackers.

  The guy with the gun recovered faster than I anticipated and fired six shots in a few seconds. Five of them hit me in my chest and stomach and the sixth one grazed my head, leaving a stinging pain. The gunfire rocked me back and I felt like someone had just beat on me with a sledgehammer, but I knew my suit had protected me from the worst. I grunted from the pain and put it aside. Rising up, I started for them again, wondering how I was going to end this without killing them, creating far bigger problems for me, when the answer presented itself.

  Both men had managed to untangle themselves and stand up when a sticky blob about the size of a baseball hit each of them in the chest. It immediately grew and began to spread over their bodies, quickly covering them from neck to toe in white foam that prevented them from moving. They looked like they had been hit with the world’s biggest spitballs, ones that had hardened.

  I turned to the left, looking down the alley. I saw a woman standing forty feet away with an odd looking pistol in her hand. She had blonde hair, green eyes and a body that could have put any supermodel’s to shame. Her face was hard to make out, but what I did see was very appealing.

  “You only have two minutes until they are free, you’d better hurry.” She said, speaking Atlantean. It had been a while since I had heard that language and it took me a second to understand what she meant.

  She whipped around and hurried away from us, turning right, disappearing from sight. I was torn, I wanted to go after her, find out who she was and why she had helped me, but if what she said was right, I only had a short window to get what I needed. After a quick mental debate I opened the door to my office and hurried upstairs. I went into my bedroom and dug through my underwear drawer for what I was looking for.

  A gold coin rested under all my briefs. It looked old, very old and it was. On it was engraved a side view of Julius Caesar, wearing a laurel leaf crown. The image was hard to make out, the ages having worn it away. I snatched it up and put it in my pocket, then turned and hurried back down and outside. The werewolves were both still unmoving statues but it looked like they were slowly beginning to break free. The hardened foam had small cracks in it that were slowly growing from their struggles.

  “See ya later fellas, let your boss know you came this close.” I held my hand up and put my index finger and thumb out, with a small space in between them.

  I turned and hauled ass out of there, unsure of how long I had left. I reached my bike and soon was screaming down the street and towards the airport.

  A little while later I rode past the departure and drop off area, pulling into the parking lot. I found a spot far away from everyone else and killed the engine. I had a decision to make, my cloaking pin could hide my weapons from the airport’s security, but only one, either my sword or my pistol, but not both. Making up my mind, I took my pistol and hit a small button on the side of my bike. A hidden compartment opened and I slipped it inside, pushing it closed. Having a supercomputer, magically enhanced guardian came in handy. He taught me all kinds of cool things, like how to build a secret hidey hole for my gun that kept it hidden from even the most sensitive police dog’s nose.

  I made sure my sword was hidden from sight and started to walk towards the airport only to feel the breeze against my chest. I looked down and almost slapped myself in the forehead. I saw five bullet holes in my shirt. I zipped my jacket up and hoped no one would notice. Walking through the departure area I got a few odd looks and remembered one round had grazed me. I hurried to the bathroom, avoiding any security. I’m sure they would love to ask me why I had dried blood on my head and a bunch of holes in my shirt. After making sure I was blood free, I went to the automatic ticket counter and punched in my reservation information. A few seconds later a boarding pass came out of the neat little dispenser and I walked off to get ready for the long march through airport security.

  An hour later I escaped from the rigorous security screening unscathed and sat down near my boarding area to wait. Eventually my boarding number was called and I found my way onto the plane and sat down in my seat.

  Thankfully the plane was on schedule and three hours later we landed in JFK airport, the atmosphere upon disembarking was far different in New York than Oklahoma City. There was a fevered rush that permeated everyone. They all seemed to be in a hurry and had no time for anyone or anything that hampered that.

  Making my way outside, I hailed a cab and gave him an address. The driver was of Arab descent and looked at me from under bushy eyebrows.

  “Mister, are you sure you want to go to that area, at night?” His English was heavily accented.

  “If it will make you feel better you can drop me off a few blocks away and I’ll still pay you for the full trip.” I said.

  He looked at me for a few seconds then shrugged his shoulders, “It’s your funeral.” He muttered as he flipped the meter on and pulled away from the airport.

  There isn’t one borough that’s necessarily better or worse than any other. Nowadays each one has its good areas and its bad areas. Brooklyn is no different, but if asked where in Brooklyn you wouldn’t want to be out at night, it would have to be East New York, specifically the industrial area, which is exactly where I was heading.

  We drove in silence
for a while and sure enough, a few blocks from my destination we pulled over.

  “That will be-ten fifty.” He said.

  I reached over and handed him a twenty.

  “Thanks, keep the change.” I said.

  “You’re welcome, be careful.” He quickly drove away, leaving me alone an hour before nightfall.

  I started walking, making my way towards Club Red. It was starting to warm up, but the nights still got pretty chilly. My skin suit and my Atlantean physiology made me very tolerant of the cold weather, but other people were not so lucky. I didn’t see many others walking around, but those I did see were bundled up pretty good. I saw more than one steel drum with homeless people standing around it, trying to keep warm.

  A few blocks south of where I was dropped off I came to the area that bordered the industrial park. Soon I would leave the ghettos and housing developments for warehouses and manufacturing buildings. Right on the edge of the zone that separated the two sat a small three story building that looked abandoned. Its windows were all blacked out, but none of them were broken. The meager grass and bushes that dotted the landscape surrounding the property was growing wild and unkempt.

  A single red light bulb hung above a stairwell that led to an entrance below street level. It looked eerily like an entrance to a tomb. The whole area had an emptiness to it, even the local feral cats were afraid of the place.

  I leaned up against a building that was across the street from the entrance, waiting. I tried to blend in with my surroundings and went unnoticed. Eventually the sky darkened to where the sun was just a fading memory, its light a purple haze to the west, while the stars tried to poke through the black curtain of space.

  The red bulb that hung above the stairwell abruptly turned on and I watched three people, each one different in age, race and (according to the clothes they wore) social status. They walked down and seemingly disappeared.

  I reached into my pocket and rubbed the coin there then I pushed myself from the wall and went across the street. As I looked down the stairwell I saw a large man standing at the bottom, waiting patiently. His pale skin and statue like stillness targeted him as a vampire. He wore black sunglasses and a nice suit. His athletic frame stretched its fabric.