The Legacy Series (Book 1): Legacy [Sanguis]

by Ray, Timothy A.

  Taking out his phone, he dialed 911, and put it to his ear.

  “911 operator, please state the nature of your emergency,” a female’s voice said into his earpiece.

  “My coworker is hurt.”

  “Sir, where are you located?”

  “The Extended Stay on State Rd, near Midway,” he answered quickly.

  “Please hold while I transfer you,” the woman responded, then clicked off the line.

  Hold? He didn’t want to hold. Jerry was seriously fucked up, and while he didn’t believe that anything medical could be done, he wasn’t a doctor. Watching those damn Grey’s Anatomy shows with his wife in no way made him qualified to make that determination on his own.

  “How can I help you?” a man’s voice asked.

  “I’m at the Extended Stay on State Rd and my coworker is badly in need of medical attention. He suffered a neck injury, he’s covered in blood, and he’s gone insane.”

  “Sir is he breathing?”

  “I wasn’t going to get close enough to check. Maybe you missed the part where he’s gone insane? He just tried to kill me!”

  “I thought you said he suffered a neck injury? Sir, how injured is your coworker and how did he get hurt?”

  His mind went blank. “I don’t know? I went downstairs and found him like that in the parking lot. Can you just send someone, please? He chased me back inside the hotel and was breaking the glass on the door trying to get to me. I am hiding in my room, and I’m not leaving until a police officer knocks on this door.”

  “You need to calm down, Sir.”

  “You see what I just saw and then tell me to calm down!” he snapped. “It’s like his throat got ripped out, and somehow he’s still standing and running after me like his ass is on fire.”

  “We have officers en route to your location, but Sir, I need you to calm down. We’ve had more than a few of these calls this morning, and we are responding as fast as we can. I need you to be patient.”

  “Yeah, you tell that to anyone else that maniac attacks while I wait for you to get here,” he responded. Yeah, he needed to calm down, but the adrenaline was pumping, and he felt like he’d only barely escaped death’s embrace; not conducive at all to a peaceful state of mind. “I’m sorry. It’s just, I looked into his eyes, and all I saw was pure rage. I don’t get it. He’s fifty years of age, under five foot, and heavy. He shouldn’t be able to move like that.”

  “What else was he wearing?”

  “Blue shirt, blue work vest, and blue jeans. We were waiting on our boss to get back with the car, so we could head to work. We’re putting in the West Marine on the north side of town. Crap, I forgot about Richard. If he comes back while Jerry is like this—.”

  “Sir, we have a unit pulling into the parking lot now.”

  He walked to the window and peered out, cautious not to be seen in case Jerry was standing there looking up at him. A squad car was indeed pulling into the parking lot. “Okay, thank you. I’ll talk to the officers when they come to the door. Room 245.”

  “Sir, you need to stay on the phone until the officers knock on your door.”

  Why? I’m not the asshole trying to eat people. Eat. Food. Human. No. No fucking way.

  “Sir are you still there?”

  He was watching the patrol car sweep the parking lot, slowly making their way around to the door he’d come through. The search light was on, the lights on top were flashing, but otherwise it was a silent search as the officers looked for the madman they’d been called about. Their vehicle inched forward then braked hard, slamming to a stop.

  The officer in the driver seat hopped out of the squad car, his weapon clear of his holster, his attention solely on the side of the hotel he’d just reentered. Using the door to shield himself from harm, the officer leveled his gun and appeared to be yelling something, but he couldn’t hear what through the glass. His fingers trembling, he opened the window slowly, just in time to hear the man yell, “stop right there!”

  The police officer in the passenger seat stepped out of the car, mic in hand as he swiftly relayed that they needed backup and an ambulance, eyes darting between his partner and something out of sight.

  Then he saw Jerry run from the corner of the building, legs thrusting him forward so fast his upper body seemed to be near topping over, intent on tearing into the two police officers just as badly as he’d come after him.

  “Last warning!”

  Shots rang out, making him flinch, and he watched in horror as Jerry collapsed on the pavement in a heap.

  “Sir, I’m going to need you to hang up now. When the officers come to the door, please relay all information you have regarding what has happened. They’ll be with you shortly.”

  Click.

  Fucker hung up on him.

  The officer on the passenger side had drawn his firearm, and had it leveled on Jerry’s body as his partner came around the front and approached cautiously. He could do nothing but stand there and watch as the man walked over and kicked Jerry’s hand.

  It reached up and grabbed the officer’s foot, head latching onto the man’s ankle, causing the police officer to scream in pain. The man’s gun went off repeatedly, echoing loudly as the officer emptied his clip into the man, yet still Jerry clung on like he never felt a thing.

  The other officer came up and lowered his gun, shooting Jerry in the head, brain matter and skull fragments showering the pavement with the impact.

  He threw up.

  Chapter 3

  I

  He stood at the window and watched as a second squad car arrived, followed quickly by an ambulance. The paramedics were making for his dead coworker, but the injured man’s partner insisted that they tend to his wounds and disregard the maniac that had bitten him. There was nothing that they could do for Jerry, his brains were splattered across the asphalt, far beyond life saving measures.

  A male and female officer approached the duo, and words were quickly exchanged as to what had just happened. The female cop looked up in his direction and he automatically flinched away from the window, somehow sure that it had been him she’d been looking at. He didn’t know why that frightened him, he had nothing to do with what had just happened. He could provide them no insights into what gotten into Jerry, as he hadn’t seen the man since falling asleep the night before.

  Breaking from the window, he went to the nightstand in-between the beds and picked up the phone. Dialing the room number Evan had given him, he let it ring, hoping that the younger man was all right and not caught up in whatever seemed to be going on this morning. He still hadn’t heard from Richard, there was no sign of their car in the parking lot, and it was getting past six-thirty, they’d be late to work either way.

  Not that he believed they’d be working today anyhow. The cops weren’t going to let him go anywhere until this was all sorted out.

  “Hello?” a male voice groaned.

  “Evan.”

  “What? Kyle? Look dude, I called in sick. I’m not going to work.”

  “Neither of us is going to work. Jerry’s dead. The cops are down there right now standing over his body. Something fucked up is going on, and you might want to get dressed in case they need to talk to you too,” he stated, trying to snap the man out of his stupor. He didn’t care if Evan had just woken up, Kyle was not dealing with all this shit by himself.

  Evan groaned again, “I’m not in the mood for jokes.”

  “Evan, look at the clock. What time is it? Is Richard up there? Because he sure as shit is not in the parking lot with the damn rental car. And Jerry tried to attack me, man. He nearly got me. He attacked the police officers when they showed up and they just blew his brains all over the pavement. I’m not joking. You’re on the wrong side of the hotel, but you find a window overlooking the front parking lot, and you’ll see two police cars and an ambulance. Go see for yourself.”

  He hung up.

  Fingering his way through his contacts, he found the one for Richard
and hit the call button. It went to voicemail. Okay then, he tried.

  Frantically, he thought of what to do next, and the only thing he knew for sure was that he was done with this job. He would find work at home, something close to his family, because what he was feeling right now was sheer panic. He was alone, in a city larger than any he’d ever been in before, and the feeling of isolation was suffocating him.

  He made a decision before he even knew there was one to be made and began throwing his belongings back into his bags. He kept most of his stuff in there already, so outside of chargers and toiletries, there really wasn’t much to pack. Stepping into the kitchen, he grabbed some of the food he’d bought and quickly threw that in his suitcase. There wasn’t much, he was only going to be there four more days, and he’d planned it out so he wouldn’t be taking anything with him to Texas. A couple of cans of food, some pop tarts, granola bars, and some bread. He took the peanut butter and jelly but left the rest of the cold food and began zipping everything up.

  Walking to the window, he stared at the cops below, and felt a bit of relief that they hadn’t moved since the last time he’d looked; that wouldn’t last for long. Soon enough, they’d come looking for Jerry’s room and the roommate that had called 911, then who knew how long he’d be tied up with this shit.

  Nope, that’s just not happening.

  Grabbing his bags, he went to the door, spared one last glance to make sure he had everything, and walked out. A bag over his shoulder, his suitcase in hand, he began walking towards the elevator, his fingers scrolling to the Lyft application and opening it up. As he waited for the elevator to arrive, he scheduled a pickup, and forcibly tried to slow his breathing down; erratic behavior right now would definetly be noticed. It helped that a driver took his summons, the map changing as it began to show a little car icon driving in his direction from Midway.

  Scrolling down his contacts, he hit the home office number, and put it to his ear. Dialing four, he thought for sure he’d get voicemail, the time in California so far behind theirs that the chance of someone being in the office was a near impossibility, but Kelly picked up.

  “Rhodes Retail, this is Kelly.”

  “Hey Kelly, this is Kyle out here in Chicago. What are you doing in at this time in the morning?” he managed, trying to sound normal. He stepped into the elevator, getting his suitcase in just as the doors began to shut and hit the ground floor button.

  “I haven’t gone home, actually. Fell asleep on the couch here in the office. What’s up?” she asked, sounding like she’d just woken up. Well, she hadn’t been the first he’d done that to, and there would probably be a few more before he was done.

  “I have a family emergency. One of my kids is in the hospital and I need to get home right now,” he lied. He knew that sooner or later, the cops would call his work, asking about his whereabouts and information on Jerry, but if he got on a plane and was in the air, he wouldn’t really give a shit.

  “Oh no, that’s not good. Okay, let me see what I can do,” Kelly told him, sounding sympathetic, but also a little angry.

  He knew that she would hide it, she had in the past, but his leaving was going to cause a lot of workload on her end, and she wasn’t the least bit thrilled about it. It wasn’t just his trip that she would have to plan, but whoever they had to bring in to help finish the job or go to the next one. His flight out on Saturday was already booked, so that would have to be canceled and a replacement found. As long as he got home, he didn’t really care how much work she had to go through. He had just been attacked by his roommate and seen the man’s brains blown out.

  He was done.

  “Okay, there’s a flight leaving in two hours. There isn’t another one until early afternoon. You sure you have time to make it?”

  He thought of the Lyft, the proximity of the airport, and the lines at baggage claim and security. He’d done this enough, and knew that he’d make it, but only barely. “Yeah, can you book that?”

  “Okay. You’re booked for Southwest Airlines Flight 805 departing at 8:52. You land in Denver International at 10:45, where you’ll have an hour layover, then a flight from there to Phoenix, landing at 11:30. I hope your kid is okay. I’ll let Deanne know what’s going on. She’ll probably call you later this afternoon.”

  “Thanks Kelly, I appreciate it,” he replied automatically, stepping through the lobby doors and into the cool morning light.

  He hung up before she could change her mind.

  Clicking his Southwest app, he brought up his reservations and hit check in. The seating would suck being so close to take off time, but he didn’t give a damn. He just wanted to go home.

  C12. Yup, that sucks. Oh Well.

  He tried not to glance to the right, the flashing lights of the squad cars illuminating the parking lot and kept his eyes on his phone. He had a flight home, his bags were in hand, and if the Lyft driver would get there, he might have the chance to get on a plane before anyone knew that he was missing.

  The female officer was walking up the sidewalk, and he stepped forward to get out of her way, doing his best to seem bored and not interested at all in what was going on. Which was probably not realistic at all. Just about anyone with a pulse would be staring at the scene in the parking lot, not doing their best to avert their eyes away from it. Keeping his head down, eyes on his phone, he tried to slow his breathing and not notice the woman’s eyes moving in his direction.

  A man waiting for a ride outside a hotel near the airport was not an uncommon sight, he told himself, trying to will his nerves to calm. As long as he didn’t act weird and screw it up by being fidgety, he should be okay.

  A red Ford Escape pulled in front of him and the passenger window rolled down. “Are you Kyle Ragnoli?”

  “Yes Sir,” he nodded, and the trunk popped open. Quickly, he stepped to the rear of the car and threw his bags in the back. Sparing a glance at the lobby, he saw the female officer look his way, her eyebrows narrowing, but he acted like nothing was wrong and opened the rear passenger door. “I appreciate it.”

  “No problem,” the thin older man grinned. He had short black hair peppered with gray, his face covered in deep wrinkles, hazel eyes glancing up at him in a friendly manner.

  He ran his hand through his own short brown hair, and realized he’d left his Cardinals cap on top of the fridge. Well, shit. He’d have to buy another one. No way was he going back in there now, especially with that police officer asking what room they were in.

  The car pulled away and he grimaced at the squad cars in front of them. The driver veered to the left and went back the way he’d come in, commenting “never is quiet in this neighborhood. Always something going on. Probably another drunk sleeping in the bushes.”

  “Probably. They were there when I came out, didn’t want to go find out for myself.”

  The man laughed, “yeah, that’s probably best. Airport huh? You heading out?”

  “Yeah, flying home to Arizona. Flight is at 8:50.”

  “Cutting it kind of close, aren’t you?” the driver asked, pulling onto Cicero. “Good thing it’s just down the street. This time of the morning, shouldn’t be too many people checking in. But you never know. Weather constantly gets flights grounded, making people stay overnight to wait it out. Pain in the ass for them, but a good way to make money for me.”

  “I hear that,” he laughed, trying to push the last hour out of his mind before he went insane himself.

  He kept thinking of Jerry’s eyes, and his skin crawled every time that he did.

  Looking at the clock on his phone, he realized that the one person he needed to inform of his flight home was his wife, and he hadn’t even thought to send her a text to tell her what was going on. It was five in the morning in Mesa. She was at work and probably wouldn’t even have seen the text, but he still should have sent one. He just went through an ordeal and was apparently in shock, because he had no idea why she wasn’t the first person he called.

  He texted t
hat he was coming home, then put his phone in his pocket. He would need to preserve the battery as long as possible, needing to have contact with his wife later for pick up, and not sure if he’d be able to charge it while hanging out in the airport. Some airports had areas for that, but they were usually the newer ones. Midway didn’t look to have been upgraded in the previous ten years from what he remembered on arrival, and he doubted they had USB hubs for him to plug into.

  “Okay Buddy, we’re here.”

  He looked through the windows at the check in counters and was relieved to see only a few people in line. “I appreciate it,” he answered, tipping five dollars on his app, and quickly stepping out to get his bags from the trunk.

  The car pulled away just as he turned and stepped onto the curve, determined to get the hell out of Chicago, and hoping he’d make it to his flight on time. As this morning proved, anything could happen, and he wasn’t in the shape to handle anymore. He was going home no matter what, even if he had to steal a car and drive.

  Something seriously fucked was going on and he wanted no part of it.

  II

  Sitting still on a plane had never been harder.

  He had expected to get stopped going through security. He was technically running from a crime scene, of which he had somewhat been involved with, and was eluding the authorities by fleeing the state. Technically, he’d done nothing wrong. He had seen a situation, called the police, and what followed hadn’t been on him. Yet, questions about Jerry’s state before the shooting needed to be answered, and although he didn’t have any to give, his disappearance would bring his innocence into question.

  Who disappears after watching their coworker get his head blown off if they had nothing to do with what happened leading up to it?

  Me.

  The idea that they would have contacted airport security to stop his departure was naïve. He knew that. But it hadn’t stopped him from nervously fidgeting his way through the line, from his heart thundering in his chest as he passed through the metal detector, or from his eyes constantly darting around while he put his shoes back on, sure that at any moment someone would step up and ask him to follow after. He was even more surprised that he didn’t get a “random” check. He always got randomly pulled from line and nearly strip searched whenever he went through; someone was looking out for him.