by Maxey, Phil
*****
Joel rubbed his fingers together. He was beginning to think that maybe finding a camp near the Mexican border would have been a better idea. He looked into the darkness that now pervaded the quarantine area of the camp and at the other buildings which ran along a two-mile stretch of fence near the main gate. He wouldn’t be going back to the safety of his own hut until he found some blood. It wasn’t a matter of choice. If he didn’t get something inside him soon, he would lose control and that wouldn’t be good for anyone. He was sure it was the same for the others if not even more difficult.
He peered around the corner of another of the dorm buildings. This one, he could tell, was full of other people. Those that also sought refuge. Their heartbeats all played in his mind, like a brigade of drummers and he had to stop for a moment to quieten the music.
Ahead, brightly lit by a light over its door, was the medical center. It was twice as big as the other huts, and he could tell it also contained people. Most were sleeping, but a few were still awake. He could just about make out hushed conversations. There were also two nurses stationed inside. One near the entrance and another on the actual ward itself, luckily she was sleeping. The other was reading, with her feet up on the desk in front of her.
There was also blood. And not just the kind that still resided inside a body. This was detached, pure. But he was having a hard time pinning down its location. The wounds which those inside had were confusing his senses.
Need to get closer.
He looked across to the fence and the closest wooden guard station which was lost to his view behind another hut. He listened into the night.
No movement.
But there was something over there. He could hear hearts, and odors drifted on the breeze.
Going to have to risk it.
He sprinted forward. Even if a guard had have been watching, they would have just seen a blur. He crept alongside the wooden wall of the building, crouching, but also sniffing the air, trying to get any indication of where the blood bank was located.
Ah…
He didn’t smell the blood, but the pale blue light of a refrigeration unit seeped out of the blinds above his head. He stood more upright, looking at the inside of the window for a latch or a lock he could break when a strong canine odor washed across his face.
Guard dog?
He spun around expecting to see the glowing eyes of a dog looking back at him, and its owner close behind, but there wasn’t one. The stench was getting stronger.
Coming from…
He looked up. A shadowy figure, which resembled a beast from a late-night movie, was creeping across the roof of the building.
It stopped above and looked directly at him then ducked down. Before Joel could react, it dropped down into the room in front of him, and immediately made its way to the clear-fronted blood bank.
In the blue glow from the refrigerator, Joel watched a doglike creature, but which stood on two feet like a human, snap off the lock which held the door closed and grabbed—
“Hey, what you doing there?” shouted a guard, a hundred yards away, at Joel.
He swore in frustration, the unknown creature had distracted him. He looked back through the gap in the blinds to the room. The werewolf had gone.
The guard started running towards Joel, one hand holding a pistol, the other trying to speak into a radio.
Joel turned and sprinted away, he was out of sight of the guard before the middle-aged man covered half the distance to where he just was.
As Joel moved back into the shadows near his own hut he scanned his surroundings trying to pick up the scent of the other creature, but it was lost to him.
He pushed the window back open to the long hut he had earlier escaped from and climbed back inside to the restroom.
He immediately realized he was not alone.
A flashlight illuminated Marina standing in front of him.
“Did you get the blood?”
They both looked at the nearby wall due to the sounds of guards off in the distance.
He shook his head. “No, something else got to it before me.”
“Something?”
“A creature dropped down into the blood bank room. I’ve not seen its type before, but it wasn’t a vamp, looked more doglike…”
She scoffed. “A werewolf?”
Joel tilted his head with an expression which belied his own bemusement at what he just witnessed. “That’s what it looked like.”
A noise made them both stop. Bill walked into the restroom and sheepishly walked a few feet to the cubicle before he realized he wasn’t alone. “Everything okay in here?”
Marina ignored his comment, instead keeping her gaze on Joel. “We have to get the blood! The urge is getting… it’s getting so I fear to be around… I need to get some blood!” She went to walk to the window. Joel held his hand up.
“Give me a few more hours and you’ll have it.”
“There’s going to be guards everywhere! Where are you going to get it from?”
“I have an idea where the blood is.”
“You know who the creature is?”
Joel nodded.
Marina turned and left, walking past Bill on her way out.
“Creature?” said Bill to Joel.
Joel looked through the blinds. He could hear shouting in the distance, but he was sure the guards were still far enough away for him to get to the next hut along. He pushed the window open a small way and let his leg drop into the gap. “Can you stay in here and lock the restroom door for twenty minutes?” he said to Bill.
“Sure.”
Joel then let the rest of his body slide down, and he landed neatly on the wet grass outside.
The angry conversations were getting louder. He could also now see the sweeps of flashlight beams.
Turning, he ran into the dark. His eyes picked out the uneven ground, and he swiftly moved to the front of his hut, and then across to the one just behind it. Without stopping, he sprang the fifteen feet upwards and landed on the roof. Even in the dark, he could feel the heat coming from the asphalt leading to the hatch halfway along the structure. He quickly got to it, allowed his fingers to feel around the edge for a handle then pulled it up. Below in the gloom he just about made out the details of shelves covered with sheets, bottles, and other cleaning materials. He could also smell the metallic smell of blood rising from the room below.
Dogs barking made him turn around. There were now a few groups of guards, some with dogs moving between the huts.
Shit.
He dropped down into the large closet, and immediately crouched and let his finger slide across the smooth floor. He quickly placed it in his mouth.
Blood.
The floor of the cleaning closet was covered in spots of the stuff.
Stupid kid.
He stood and listened to the door. Only a low hum of heavy breathing came from the other side. Opening it gently, he crept out into the small hallway, and then looked onto the larger sleeping section of the building. It was laid out the same as all the others, ten beds on both sides. The lights were off, but that wasn’t a problem for him for he could smell the source of the blood clearly.
Fifth bed on the left.
He moved across the floor, being sure to stay away from any boards that began to creak, and bent down as he moved around the bed that Donnie Bradley was pretending to be asleep in.
Joel moved past the satchel that was stashed beneath the bed, and instead placed his hand directly across the teen’s mouth. Despite the darkness, he knew Donnie could see his face quite well.
Donnie’s eyes were wide.
Joel leaned in close. “I’m taking the blood—” he whispered.
Donnie’s expression grew more agitated.
“They are going to search every inch of these huts for who took it! I think they might find it under your bed,” said Joel sarcastically.
Donnie’s eyes looked away.
“If you need
more just come to me and you can have it. And clean up that closet!”
Joel felt Donnie nod beneath his hand. He then let go, bent down, grabbed the bag, and quickly made his way to the entrance to the roof.
“Should we wake Holland?” came a voice drifting on the night air from the hatch above Joel.
They’re outside…
“He’s going to be pissed as it is that we let one in. I’d rather not have him pissed as well that we woke him at three a.m.”
Joel jumped up, grabbing the edge of the hatch, and pulled himself onto the roof as silently as a cat. He then closed it.
He could hear the heartbeats of at least seven men, two down to his left, one to his right, and four between the two huts.
He crept along the roof, keeping low, and keeping track of where the guards were. Those between the huts were not moving.
Guarding the doors.
There was no way he was getting back down to the ground. He looked at the other roof, roughly twenty feet away, then started to back up.
As Joel flew over their heads, landing on the roof of his own hut, the four guards were talking about how heads were going to roll in the morning.
CHAPTER TEN
As Dalton drove the pickup along highway twenty, the wall of intense darkness fell away from the road.
“Hey, pull over here, maybe there’s some food in that store,” said Kizzy, pointing to the wooden construction visible in their headlights.
“You don’t need food, you’re a vamp,” said Dalton.
“I don’t need food, I want food!” she said, sitting in the passenger’s seat.
Amos could feel the anger inside the big man driving and the equal but opposite longing in the girl next to him.
“We’ve been driving for hours, let’s pause for a bit. We can get some fuel from any vehicles around here while we’re at it,” said Amos in the back.
Dalton swung the pickup onto the gravelly forecourt, making the other two sway violently to the left. The pickup skidded to a stop.
“Man, you need to take a chill pill,” said Kizzy, righting herself then pushing the door open.
Both men watched the young girl disappear into the shadows at the front of the building.
“She’s right you know…” said Amos to the man in front.
“Stay out of my head, kid.”
“Hey, I ain’t gotta read your mind to—”
A bright flash of light and a boom, was immediately followed by Kizzy flying backwards. They both whipped their heads towards the store.
Amos then realized the itch in his brain was the distant thoughts of a human. He and Dalton jumped out of the pickup, and ran towards the girl who was motionless on the ground.
“You get going!” shouted an elderly man from inside. “Nothing here for ya! Take your dead and go!”
Another boom made Amos and Dalton duck. They looked down at Kizzy, her body visible in the headlights. A five inch hole sat where her chest used to be.
“She ain’t coming back from that!” shouted Dalton. He then looked up at the store, and his form started to expand.
“Wait!” shouted Amos, looking at Kizzy. “Look!”
Kizzy’s arms and legs started to twitch, and flesh, muscles, and arteries started to emerge, forming a bridge across the gap in her torso.
Another boom was accompanied with dust and stones flying up at them.
Amos grabbed Kizzy’s shoulders. “Help me move her back around the pickup.”
Dalton still looked human, despite his clawed hands.
They both pulled the girl backwards until she was out of range. Dalton stood and went to charge forward.
Amos placed his hand on the big guy’s arm. “Hold on. People are usually more useful alive, right?”
“He shot first!”
Kizzy moved her head and her eyes opened. She looked down at her chest. “What the fuck happened to me…”
“Some old dude shot you,” said Dalton. “Amos don’t want me to end him, but I’m thinking about doing it anyway.”
She pushed herself up with the help of the side of the pickup. “Nah. I’ll talk to him. He’s just scared.”
The two men looked at each other.
Kizzy walked forward towards the store. Slower than the first time. She held her hands up. “Don’t shoot…! Err… again.”
There was a hesitant pause from inside. “I shot you girl. In your chest. Even a vamp wouldn’t survive that!”
“I was wearing a bullet proof vest. I threw it off back there. It stills stings a bit.”
A door creaked somewhere in the shadows, and a spindly figure walked forward. The barrel of the shotgun he was holding glinted in the moonlight.
“We’re not here to steal, or fight, or whatever. We just wanted to stop for a bit, and maybe buy some stuff from your store. That okay?”
The man, wearing a grime-laden white shirt, and braces holding up worn brown trousers came more into the light. “You got cash? I ain’t got no use for plastic.”
She nodded.
“Only you then. Your boyfriends there, stay near the pickup. Got that?”
Kizzy smiled and walked forward, walking past the old man, and into the shadows of his store. “I’m going to need some light in here to see what you got,” she said over her shoulder.
The old man frowned and followed her inside.
As flames from a few candles illuminated the shelves and walls of the small store, Dalton leaned back against the hood of the pickup and sighed. Amos noticed all his appendages were distinctly human again as were his thoughts.
“How you end up in San Jose?” Amos knew the answer, but asked anyway.
“I wasn’t. I was from a penitentiary out east, run by the corporation.”
Amos could see images of men in chains being fed one by one into bright clean rooms where scientists and nurses were waiting. Each of the inmates were seated then injected with something. Amos couldn’t tell what it was, and Dalton at the time didn’t know either.
“You were injected with the scourge virus!?”
Dalton, in one swift move, grabbed Amos by his arms and lifted him up. “I said stay out of my head!”
“Okay! Okay. I get it, you want privacy. Just making conversation.”
Dalton dropped him and pulled the driver’s door open and got inside.
Amos pulled his mind from Dalton’s but allowed himself to stay angry. The corporation had been injecting prisoners with the hope that they would find some that weren’t the garden-variety vamps. He was sure the same procedure had been repeated wherever the corporation owned a facility.
He still had no idea why Dalton was in jail in the first place, but he presumed it must have been for a violent crime.
The creaky store door opened, and Kizzy and the old man appeared with her arm around his. They were busily chatting.
She extracted herself. In her other hand was a bag of non-perishable groceries.
She walked away smiling.
*****
Men, women, children, and other things stood in the cold northerly wind in front of the white huts in the quarantine section of the Westlands camp.
They had all been waiting some time before a column of pickups arrived, and out of one walked Chad Holland.
After Joel got back to his hut seven hours before, he found all the Hybrids waiting for him in the restroom. He barely had time to climb back through the window before Anna, Marina, and Evan tore his satchel from him, and devoured most of the blood bags contained within. He had to wrestle it back to be able to save what was left and have some for himself. After an hour, they had all been replenished, and the hunger which was threatening to overcome each of them had receded back to the dark place in their souls.
He then explained how it had been Donnie that had taken it, and the young man’s actions had now landed them all in a whole heap of problems. They discussed and argued, but it was obvious those who ran the camp were going to know that there was a vamp now inside the fe
nce. And there were a number of humans sleeping in the beds nearby who might not be completely trustworthy if their own necks were on the line.
It was around 9 a.m. when guards came to all the huts demanding everyone wake and gather outside. That was thirty minutes ago.
Holland moved to a spot in front of the row made up of just over a hundred people.
“Last night, the blood bank was broken into and some blood was taken. That only means one of two things. Either one of you has taken blood for someone that has turned and you're hiding them somewhere, or maybe one of you are one of these different kind of vamps that I keep hearing rumors about. But whoever it is, you have a choice. Either you come forward now, or all of you are going to be leaving this camp within the next ten minutes…”
While ripples of discomfort, anger and fear ran around the people, the guards, who were watching everyone intently, loaded their guns.
“You can’t throw us out! We didn’t do anything!” shouted a man.
Holland walked up to him, flanked by two guards.
The man held his ground, but his eyes betrayed his anxiety.
Holland leaned into the man until his boxer-like features were only a few inches from the man’s.
“Before it all went to shit, in certain circles I used to be known as ‘Raker’…” Holland held the man’s gaze with his own then stood back upright.
Twenty or so people to the right, Joel cocked his head.
Raker?
A distant memory started to bubble up in his mind.
Where have I heard…
Years before, an FBI report had been posted on the Bureau’s internal system. It wasn’t mandatory reading, but he glanced through it at the time. It was on a court case for a crime syndicate which operated on the Canadian-US border. The head of the family was known as ’Raker.’
Chad ‘Raker’ Holland! That’s where I knew him from.
Holland, along with some members of his family, were convicted of criminal conspiracy as well as a wealth of other charges which meant he wasn’t ever getting out of jail.
He was in jail…
Joel ran through his thoughts, trying to remember what the report said, but all he could remember was the computer monitor’s screen and a few words.