King's Blood: Vampire Lust (A Serial Novel, Part 3)

by P. J. Day

  “No, I think we just do a better job of hiding all our contamination,” Rebecca said.

  “Nonsense,” Allen retorted.

  “No way, listen, I heard if you are knowingly polluting over here and you get caught, it’s an automatic death sentence,” Rebecca said.

  “She’s got a point, there still hasn’t been a proper response to the whole children’s Tylenol or BP fiasco has there?” I said.

  “Um, I don’t think both those situations were done out of intentional malice or on purpose, that would be bad for business.”

  “Okay, fine, negligence at the very least, yet no one has been investigated or prosecuted for the gross negligence,” Rebecca added.

  “It’s apples and oranges, in fact, this whole conversation hasn’t been consistent from the start.” Alan then took a deep breath and continued, “Yes, both countries pollute, however, in China, the government is the economy and vice versa in the States; those in government want to be part of the economy.” Alan paused. “Look its complicated and I really don’t want to get into it. We have more pressing matters to worry about.”

  “So, you’re saying the free-market is self-correcting pollution away? I doubt that,” I added.

  Alan just ignored me and decided not to take the argumentative bait.

  “I’m getting a headache,” Rebecca said loudly.

  “Jack, give me your phone,” Alan said, abruptly changing the conversation.

  Ted didn’t text me during the entire car trip to Guangzhou. I probably sent him a dozen more texts hoping he’d answer back; none were returned. With much hesitance, I handed my phone to Alan. He then took the back panel off, taking out the battery and the SIM card. He then placed all the components with the phone into his brown, slightly worn satchel. He did the same to Rebecca’s as soon as we crossed the bridge into Panyu, which is an industrial section of Guangzhou, where Guangzhou’s Jiyin Engineering main location was. The Mercedes then stopped in front of an outdoor swap meet.

  “We’re here,” Alan said.

  “Thank God, my legs are absolutely throbbing, and I need to use the ladies’ room,” Rebecca said, tiredly.

  Alan grabbed his cell phone from his coat pocket, he looked at me and said, “Last time I’ll use this.” He speed dialed, “Hello, Yi. We just got here.” Alan’s conversation paused for a moment. “Okay, we’ll be outside waiting.” Alan hung up the phone and then did the same thing to his phone as he did to ours, and placed it into his brown satchel as well.

  “So why are we meeting them so friggin’ far from our stay?” I asked, exiting out of the car first.

  “They want us to play by their rules. It’s a different ball game over here, we lost all of our rights, our upper hand, our privacy, as soon as we crossed their border,” Alan said.

  “It’s the best homefield advantage on earth,” Rebecca added, as she walked around the backside of the Benz, meeting up with us on the sidewalk in front of the outdoor market.

  The more I thought about it, the more everything made a little more sense. When a company had the backing of an entire nation, it is practically indestructible and omnipotent. They can do whatever they want to anyone without repercussion and with never-ending blessings. It finally dawned on me what was at stake. We weren’t conspiring against a single company but an entire country, arguably the second greatest industrialized country on earth at this very moment. No wonder Ted chickened out, he was smart enough to foresee what I felt as soon as I stepped out of the car and stared at the arched sign that said clothing market. The same market Ted had showed me from the Google Maps search before we both flew to Hong Kong.

  It was a moderately sized outdoor market, lined with thatched roofs made of some sort of plastic composite, not straw, but most likely a collection of crude recycled plastic strips banded together with adhesive. Under the collective covering, a mishmash of merchants sold everything from knock-off designer eyewear to a various collection of video game consoles; one was named Xboy 1080, another was called the Sony Praystation 3:16. Oddly enough, with such grandiose technological boasts in their names, they only seemed to play 8-bit games.

  We continued walking through the marketplace, Rebecca inadvertently stubbed her toe on a block of cement that someone was using as a table to hawk pirated DVD’s. The shopkeeper said something in Mandarin, of course, without Ted, none of us knew what she said, but it was a definite snap at Rebecca for knocking over the merchandise.

  “Dammit, where is this place? I need to use the restroom, and now my toe is probably swollen as big as a pear,” she said in frustration.

  Alan paced back and forth through the main aisles in the marketplace, intently looking for something or someone Yi told him to identify. “I swear, this is the last time I come out here. They keep moving this place everywhere.”

  “So, where did Yi tell you to go?” I asked.

  “He said to look for a guy with a shaved head and a suit. He’ll be standing by a red pole. I guess it’s the only red pole in the entire marketplace.”

  I started pacing the aisles with Alan. Standing on my tiptoes, dressed as a Gothic Bigbird, all in black, face covered, wearing a giant, black-feathered hat. I could tell the shopkeepers were getting annoyed with our frantic behavior. Then an older man, wearing a lab coat, who was tending his pill stand, whistled at us. All three of us walked in rapid succession to the man’s stand. In broken English he told us, “They are on the other side...other side.” The man pointed toward the clearing between the other side of the marketplace, where I picked up the smell of competing aromas. Fruits, vegetable, and a plethora of live critters were all collected in old, grimy, rot boxes, openly marketed to hardy, indiscriminate customers. A man lifted a soft-shell turtle, examining its underbelly for parasites, making sure there were no surprises at the dinner table this evening. I squinted a bit through my sunglasses and saw the man in the suit next to the red pole waving at us from a distance.

  Alan and Rebecca paced quickly through the clearing, I ran, fearing further sun exposure. My hands felt sizzled and seared, my ears as red as freshly picked turnips. I waited for Alan and Rebecca to catch up. I bent over, hands on my knees, looking up at them. I was beginning to enter a weakened state. The indirect ultraviolet exposure was beginning to take a toll on me. It was so hot underneath my scarf, too. The sweat that was forming around the lining of my scalp, which was right underneath the rim of the hat, began to stream down my face and neck, soaking my scarf.

  “I so need to sit down,” I told Rebecca and Alan.

  “Come on, we’re almost there,” Alan said, pointing to the man next to the pole, just a few yards away.

  We all walked up to the stocky Chinese man. He was of average height, with a goatee, built tough, and in a nice suit. He asked us to follow him with a sudden flinch of his head. Not one word escaped his mouth, just a nod or two. There were two slender sheetrock walls that had been erected behind a lady selling mangosteen. She smiled at us as we walked by behind her, probably used to the foot traffic that occurred at all times of the day. We followed the man down the steps that led to a large, metallic black door. “Watch your step,” Alan instructed, as we walked over some empty produce boxes that were randomly strewn about the stairs. There was an intercom and a keypad on the wall right next to the door. The man in the suit pressed a button on the keypad and spoke through the intercom, saying just one word in Mandarin. There was a sharp beep, then we could hear the door unlock.

  “What’s your name?” I asked the man.

  “Al,” he responded in slight accent.

  “Anyone notice a pattern here with some of these names?” I asked Rebecca and Alan, jokingly.

  Al led us through the thick metallic door. He stood at the frame and waved us through. He closed the door behind us and went on to continue his daily routine of swap meet watchman: a day of vigilance and amazing bargains.

  We entered a small lobby. It was mostly empty, except for some furniture, a few paintings and some planters.. Alan
walked up to one of the four paintings that hung on the wall. “This is actually some nice impressionist artwork, you guys think they’re originals?” he asked.

  I took a quick glance at the painting as I began to sit down on the lobby’s nice, modern, black leather couch. “I really can’t tell...it looks original,” I said.

  Rebecca looked up at the ceiling and began to complain about the room’s lighting. “What is up with this unflattering, fluorescent glow in the room? Ughh, it makes me look like I have jaundice.” Alan chuckled at Rebecca as he continued to admire the contrasting colors of the lobby’s artwork .

  I proceeded to take off my scarf, sunglasses, and of course, the perched emu, known as Holly’s hat, and placed all my accessories on the black marble coffee table.

  After a couple of minutes of waiting, we heard a loud buzz. The door leading in the opposite direction of the one we came in through, slowly opened. A thinly framed, chisel-cheekboned man with a wonderful Bespoke suit walked through the door with the indubitable Havens Ling, all 6 feet 3 inches of him in tow. As well as possessing an extraordinarily large dome, Havens also was the proud owner of some massive hands. There were tattoos going down each and every one of his digits. The tattoo on his neck peeked out from underneath his collar, tentacled and inked with pink, only Havens knew the meaning behind the squid artwork that he unabashedly displayed on his throat. If this man was a scientist or an engineer, then I was a werewolf. I’m sorry for stereotyping, but I’m not stupid, and neither were Alan and Rebecca. This whole scenario stunk to high heaven, I had to be assertive from the get-go and stay on guard. I stood straight up with a commanding posture and extended my hand out to Yi as if it was a chance meeting with George Clooney outside a Starbucks, pretending to revel in his presence.

  “Hello, I’m Jack, your account manager.”

  Yi smiled and stuck out his thin hand, shaking it firmly, with power and authority. He smiled like a man who knew he was untouchable, a man who had the support of an entire country, and an entire people. “Hello, my name is Yi,” he said in a rich baritone voice. His tone was commanding and his English had a slight British twang to it.

  I then took one step forward and to the side of Yi, extending out my hand for Havens as well. “Heard a lot about you,” I said.

  With no smile and with the same frigid look he had on his headshot, Havens shook my hand, with umbrage. I then stepped aside so Alan and Rebecca could exchange pleasantries, too.

  “Nice seeing you again,” Alan told Yi.

  “Likewise,” Yi responded. “Please, step inside. I know you all had a long drive. We will walk to the conference room.”

  Right as I walked through the doorway, I felt an overwhelming force hit my chest. Like a runaway bull hitting my sternum head on. I stumbled backwards into Alan. He carefully pushed me forward, I closed my eyes and shook my head a bit, trying to brush away the sudden impact. My skin started to itch a bit and my eyeballs started pulsating like the other night at the restaurant.

  “What’s wrong?” Rebecca asked, as she stood behind Alan.

  Yi and Havens just stood there, both with dry expressions. “Do you need a drink?” Yi asked calmly.

  “No, I’m fine. Let’s sit down, it’s probably the long drive,” I said.

  I started to feel the cravings slowly creeping up on me again. My mouth began watering. I felt my pupils rapidly expanding. My muscles began tightening. My eyes hyperfocused on Yi and Haven’s necks as they stood in front of me. I was starting experience to hunger pains as if I hadn’t fed for weeks. I stopped and stooped over a bit, putting my hands on my knees and looking straight at the floor. I heard Alan’s voice echoing in the distance, even though I was aware he was right behind me. “Jack, you okay?”

  “I’m fine,” I said, waving him off.

  It took quite a bit of effort to stand up straight again but I did. I quickly realized that this meeting, whatever the outcome, would have to be willed with everything I had left. I was in desperate need of some blood and in danger of turning feral. I reopened my eyes and saw the facility for the first time. It was just a long corridor, one that you would typically see inside a modern hospital, with multiple rooms on each side.

  I took a deep breath and stretched my neck, “I’m sorry,” I said to everyone in our group.

  Everyone except Havens, discordantly said, “It’s okay.”

  We all continued to follow Yi and Havens passing a few doors. We finally entered the conference room. It was just a normal meeting room with wood panels. In the middle of the room, a glass table with ten leather chairs awaited our arrival. A clock hung on the east wall, and a rolling tray with beverages was placed against the same wall.

  “I apologize,” Rebecca said to the group. “But can you tell me where your restroom is?”

  “Take a right and it’s the second door on your left. Let me apologize in advance, the bathroom is shared by both men and women, but it’s clean,” Yi said.

  “Thank you so much,” Rebecca said, slightly bouncing in the doorway of the conference room.

  “Have a seat,” Yi requested politely.

  Alan and I sat one side of the table, Havens and Yi on the other.

  “Do you gentleman want a drink? We have some scotch...juices,” asked Yi.

  “No, we’re fine. It is very kind of you to offer,” Alan said.

  “I’m sorry your partner couldn’t make it,” said Yi.

  “Yes, unfortunately he had another client with an emergency in Singapore,” I said.

  “Isn’t this an emergency situation?” Yi asked.

  He was right and Yi’s analysis put me in a bind, exposing the weakness of the excuse Ted and I had come up with.

  “Well, we felt that splitting duties was the best way to handle the immediate needs of both of our clients.”

  “Well, some things we cannot control. I just feel bad for my colleague, Havens. Your partner Ted’s talents would have come in handy when discussing the technical shortcomings of our situation. Havens’s command of English isn’t the best.”

  “I’m sorry about that but I feel like Alan, Rebecca and I are going to be more than enough to convince you that continuing to do business with Schnell is still extremely viable and absolutely necessary,” I said as I caught my breath, feeling extremely winded and weak.

  “I’ve worked in genetic engineering for almost two decades, Mr. King. I worked my way through the Ministry of Science and Technology, as one of my country’s most promising engineers. I became a department State Councilor at the age of 24. I was one the most sought-after experts on fungal-resistant crops when my country deregulated the industry. I have singlehandedly stopped millions of my brothers and sisters from starving. So tell me, Mr. King, why should I listen to someone who is not an engineer about why I should continue doing business with your company?”

  Yi’s revelation caught me off guard. His semi-hostile position had me scrambling for answers. Alan was right, Yi saw me as no better than a car salesman. Well, if Yi wanted to play the accomplishment game, I could, too.

  “Sir, I must say, I had no idea I was going to speak to someone as influential as you. I will be the first one to admit that I’m slightly intimated by your credentials.” I paused and Rebecca came into the room from her long excursion to the little girl’s room. “Excuse me,” she said, as she carefully sat down, not trying to draw attention to herself.

  I continued, “However, as you may know, Schnell is one of the top firms in the world and their recent global ascendance is all due to my extensive research in the science of coagulation. Not only do I know a thing or two about how to handle our clients—we’ve only had two clients drop us over the past decade—I also can pinpoint the needs of our clients when it comes to their research.”

  Yi turned to Havens and they both cackled softly at each other. Yi picked up a pen that was on the table and started tapping the glass with its ball point. He made a circular gesture at his own eyes and asked me, “Your pupils, what’s happen
ing?”

  “Allergies...”

  Yi turned to Havens again and gave each other another light chuckle. I then gave an inquisitive look at Alan. All Alan did was shrug his shoulders.

  “I appreciate your effort, Jack. But you need to understand that in this country, we do things a little differently. Eight of the ten senior officials in our government all have engineering or science backgrounds. I think in the U.S. where you are from—am I right?—how many of your leading politicians are scientists, engineers, or biologists?”

  I had no idea what Yi was implying. He either had it really in for me or for my profession. Maybe it was a bad idea for me to reassert my role as team leader. Maybe I should have listened to Alan. It is possible that because they were both engineers they could communicate better and save the account? But why have me here, then? Something just didn’t add up.

  “Sir, you’re absolutely correct. I’m no engineer; however, I will do everything in my power to make sure your needs are met. I have a special relationship with the C.E.O. Things can get fixed, believe me.”

  Yi sat back in his chair and crossed his arms. He just stared blankly at me. When Havens didn’t giggle with Yi, he had the same stern look on his face. Cold, stale and blank. I looked over at Alan and Rebecca and they sat silently, both giving me a look of I told you so.

  “Your country and your business is run by salesmen,” added Yi. “I want our needs to be met by engineers from top to bottom. Our operation is highly sensitive. We are living and breathing like moles because we do not want to be infiltrated by our own people and outsiders. That is how important our work is.”

  I started feeling weaker and weaker as soon as I began to percolate my thoughts, just thinking about matching wits with Yi. I was beginning to feel extreme resignation. I was alone in the conference room. I was left alone to rot. I was left alone to be sacrificed. I was up against a force unlike any I had ever seen. Sure, I could kill this man right now without even thinking twice about it, but I decided to play his game and everyone’s game that was in this room. As soon as I took this job, I gave up being a vampire. I ceased being a wild beast that was unshackled, cursed, but essentially free and of course, alone. I gave up my identity just for a chance at assimilation with humans. A chance at a closet full of nice clothes. A chance at a nice car and a stable life. Ultimately, a chance at true love.