Blood of the Forsaken

by David Horrocks

  Tommy’s arms were covered up to the elbows in blood. The same blood that dripped from the machete that he was now pointing towards Sam. “Looks like someone's been working on his tan lines. Who ordered their bloodsucker extra crispy?”

  Sam simply gawked at the man, ignoring the whispers in the back of his mind that called for him to feed. “What did you do?”

  Tommy was joined in the doorway by his shorter companion, Aaron, his stern voice filled with suspicion and hate. “We ended yet another of your kind before they could do any more harm.”

  The unwelcome, yet oddly familiar sight of the hunters had come as a surprise, but Sam began to wonder if they could be of use. If he could diffuse the situation, then perhaps the pair would join him in his quest for vengeance. He tried to calm his mind, biding his time by questioning the hunters in an attempt to humanise himself. “Is that all we are to you?” Sam could tell by the look on Aaron’s face that he had not expected the question and that gave him the opportunity to knock the pair off balance.

  The hunter lifted his own blade, using it to gesture towards the corpse. “You're all monsters and murderers. There's nothing else to it.”

  Sam couldn't help but frown at their closed mindedness. He knew that he had to twist the situation in his favour in order to challenge their borderline zealous beliefs and make them question their view of reality. “From where I'm standing, you look like the murderers. Who else would break into someone's home to do something like this?”

  Aaron shook his head slowly, pointing his machete back towards Sam. “You're already dead. We're just restoring the natural order of things.” Something about the hunter's choice of words sent a chill up Sam’s spine. He actually believed everything that was coming out of his own mouth. Perhaps convincing them not to kill him would prove to be a harder task than he originally thought, let alone trying to sway them to his cause.

  Sam sighed, keeping his arms by his side as to not alarm the men or force them into action. “This isn't how I want things to go... I don't want to fight you.”

  Aaron slashed the air with his weapon before taking on a combat stance that was designed to be as imposing as it was practical. He spoke through gritted teeth, the aggression in his voice more apparent than ever. “You don't want to fight? Then don't!”

  Barely finishing his words before making a move, the hunter lunged towards Sam, who for some reason decided to stand his ground. He didn't even attempt to raise his hands in self defense. If he was destined to die there, he refused to cower and beg for his life. It was time to follow Christie’s lead and show strength even when he felt as though he had none left. Closing his eyes as he awaited imminent death, Sam felt as though he was as ready as he would ever be. He didn't want to die, but he would rather face the end now than run from it.

  A loud clang of metal striking metal rang out and there was no pain that followed, only the surprised gasp of the man who attacked him, followed by the sincere questioning of a companion who realised something was amiss. “Aaron, hold up! Something's wrong… Where the hell is she?”

  There was a short pause, allowing Sam the time to open his eyes once more. The momentum of Aaron’s machete had been halted by Tommy’s own blade, mere inches from his nose. A sense of relief swept through him as he realised that he had been a millisecond away from having his skull cleft in two. If he could survive through this encounter, then perhaps there was hope for him yet.

  A confused expression crossed Tommy’s face as he pushed the weapons off to one side, giving Sam the space to move. He seemed to peer around the room, taking a moment to glance back over his shoulder before turning back to fire his next question. “Where the fuck is Christie?!?”

  “She's dead…” Sam felt a lump form in his throat as he pushed himself to answer. Tommy had as much a right to know about her death as anyone, despite his previous intentions to kill her himself, but he felt sick just saying the words out loud.

  The look of heartbreak in Tommy’s eyes seemed to mirror Sam's own as he tried to buffer his emotions with denial. “I don't fuckin’ believe you… Where the fuck is she?” His tone was threatening, but it only served to cover the blatant feeling of grief that had crept in on his face.

  Tommy's choice of vocabulary left a lot to be desired, but this was a man who was hurting and Sam knew in that moment that they shared a common ground. “Christie’s dead, I swear. I saw it happen...”

  As Tommy stared deep into his eyes to discern the truth, Sam couldn't help but feel guilt. Her death had been his fault, he could have prevented it somehow. If only he hadn't spoken out against TJ, then they might still be together. Then again, he hadn't been present when things had gone south before, that was all Jacko’s doing, and he wasn't the one who had owed the man money in the first place. Sam knew that he wouldn't have even been involved with TJ if it wasn't for Christie’s meddling, but he couldn't be mad at her for that either. After all, she had rescued him from certain death in that filthy alleyway. The worst part was that he hadn't repaid the favour. He wasn't strong enough to rescue her from the pit, and now she was gone forever.

  Tommy continued to stare at Sam as if he was reading his innermost thoughts. “For real…?” The range of emotions that he was feeling seemed to spiral away from sorrow and remorse, quickly changing into red faced anger. “Shit! It wasn't meant to be this way… That stupid fuckin’ bitch!”

  The hunter's face kept changing with whatever was running through his head, with rage changing back to confusion that was jumbled together with an immense sadness that Sam almost felt as his own. Neither of them had realised it before, but they had a lot more in common than either would ever care to admit. There was a reason that Christie had chosen them, as she had seen something good and honest inside that neither had been able to see themselves. Perhaps they weren't quite as different as they had originally thought.

  Before either Sam or Tommy could say another word, Aaron stepped in and threw a shadow of doubt on the situation. “We've believed that Christie was dead before, Tommy. This might just be another…”

  A red faced Tommy span around to confront his friend, a fire in his eyes that reminded Sam of the look that he had seen from Christie before. “No! She's dead, dude. Give it a goddamn rest for just one second and look at the kids face... He isn't fuckin’ lyin’!”

  Aaron seemed to study Sam from a distance before raising his hands in the air. “Whatever, Tommy. You've got the lead on this.” He seemed to give up, stepping back to stand in the doorway where he glared at Sam with skepticism.

  As Tommy looked back towards Sam, he could tell that the news had shaken the hunter to his very core. It was that same feeling of guilt for the death of Christie that Sam was feeling himself. Tommy had lived through the grief of loss before, only to experience it all a second time around. Sam couldn't imagine how it would feel to lose Christie twice, as once was already more than he could take.

  The gruff voice of a broken man was all that Tommy could muster as he let his arms hang loosely by his sides, the bloodied blade of his machete leaving stains on the denim of his blue jeans. “I just wanted a second chance... Is that too much to ask?” His usual crude choice of words had seemingly vanished from his repertoire, at least for the time being. He seemed to be a different person now, no longer a toughened hunter, but someone who had been wounded and left vulnerable by the loss of a loved one.

  Sam knew that he had somehow gotten through to the man. They were equals and no longer enemies, but all that could change in an instant. However, that wouldn't stop him from using it to his advantage while the opportunity lasted. “She loved you, I know it. She never told me that in so many words, but I could tell. I know that she hated being at odds with you.” He did his best to sound earnest, but wasn't actually sure if he spoke the truth or if he was lying for the sake of survival.

  Tommy frowned, gripping the handle of the machete so tight that his knuckles turned white. “Yeah? Well it's too fuckin’ late now, isn't it?”


  Aaron took a step forwards to place a hand on his friend's shoulder, a brief look of sympathy protruding through the hostility that he still aimed towards Sam. “I’m sorry, Tommy. Let's just finish him and get out of here once and for all. We can go somewhere else and never have to come back to Miami ever again.”

  Swallowing loudly, Tommy shook Aaron’s hand free from his shoulder, rejecting any form of comfort that he had been offered by his friend. “How did it happen…? How did she die?”

  Sam mimicked Tommy’s reaction with a gulp of his own. He knew that he would struggle to explain and that they might have a difficult time to understanding, but he had to try. “She… she burned in the daylight.”

  Tommy snapped at him. “What? How?!? She wasn't that stupid!”

  Both hunters locked eyes at Sam, waiting impatiently for him to answer. “She had gotten on the bad side of a gang and owed their leader a lot of money. He decided to make an example of us...” Sam hoped that his pathetic excuse for an explanation sounded better out loud than it had in his mind.

  Aaron didn't look quite so convinced as he silently scrutinized Sam from where he was standing. Tommy on the other hand lowered his head to stare down at the floor, ignoring the quickly decomposing flesh that was still pumping out the noxious fumes of decay. A few seconds passed before he raised his head once more. He seemed to look Sam over with a sudden realisation of what he had been through. “Shit, that's why you look so messed up… Who the fuck is this guy?”

  Sam still hadn't moved an inch, observing the hunters as one paced in the doorway and the other probed him for more information. He tried his best to explain, but knew that any explanation he gave would sound either exaggerated or implausible. Fortunately for him, he was dealing with people who had likely seen more of the world than he ever had. “His name is TJ... I'll tell you all you want to know and more, but first I need your help. I'm planning on trying to take him down and maybe you...”

  It didn't take long for Aaron to interject as he strode back into the room. “Uh uh. No way! We're not getting involved in this!” He stepped between the two of them, pointing his machete back at Sam as he confronted his companion. “Tommy, no... Let's just end this and go!”

  The quiet tone of Tommy’s voice soon followed as he tried to get his friend to see reason. Sam could no longer tell what was happening from where he stood as his view had been obstructed. “Aaron… He killed Christie. If anyone was meant to do that, it was me. But you're right, I couldn't fuckin’ do it… and I didn't want you to either.”

  Sam noticed a throbbing vein on Aaron's neck as the pair kept on conversing between themselves. “I know, but you can do this. Finish Mitchell and let's get out of here!” He knew they were talking about him, but he couldn't help but hone in on the blood flowing just beneath Aaron’s partially sunburnt skin. It smelled so delicious. So fresh.

  Tommy raised his voice, still standing somewhere just beyond Sam’s field of view. “God dammit, dude! He killed my girl! I don't care what she was… I know who she was. We're going for a team up.”

  Sam knew that it was the perfect time to strike. He could catch the pair off guard as they argued with each other and deprive them of their precious life essence. He could satisfy all his cravings by finally feasting upon that which he most desired and then two of his biggest problems could be easily dealt with in one swift strike. The hunted would become the hunter.

  Aaron groaned loudly, the skin of his neck quivering with the sound of his voice. “You've got to be joking…”

  Sam took a step forwards. He flexed his fingers as he slowly raised his hands towards his prey while Tommy responded with renewed fervour. “Not this time, I'm serious. Let's take down this scumbag!”

  Side stepping around his resistant companion, Tommy’s sudden attention upon Sam snapped him back under control. He crammed the beast back down inside, blocking all temptation from his mind as he dropped his arms back by his waist, pretending as if nothing had been going on at all.

  Aaron followed suit and rotated himself to face Sam once more, his face twisted in annoyance. “A gang leader you say? We’ll need others on our side...”

  Despite almost sabotaging his own negotiations by nearly giving into his hunger, Sam had somehow formed a tentative alliance with two hunters who still wanted him dead. It seemed that they would put aside their differences for now in order to tackle a larger and more dangerous foe. It would be rough going, but the road to revenge was never meant to be easy.

  Barely maintaining his self control, Sam idly chewed on his lip in a way that reminded him of Christie. “That's why I came here. I have another idea...”

  Aaron raised his eyebrows quizzically as Tommy sheathed his machete in his belt, both of them letting Sam speak as he started to describe his plan in detail. The thought of teaming up with those who had pursued him for months had never crossed his mind before tonight, but this new development would open up even more opportunities that could give them the edge in the coming battle.

  **********

  Sam felt extremely nervous as the phone began to ring, his mind racing with all sorts of thoughts about what he should say. To mention that he was feeling stressed was to put things lightly as he held the microphone tightly against his mouth. What if Alice didn't recognise him? What if she did recognise him but she didn't want to talk? What if she refused to help? What if she didn't even answer? There were so many possibilities and Sam had no idea what to expect.

  It had been surprisingly easy to track down Alice and obtain her phone number, with Jonah’s computers making the process quick and simple. Sam knew that contacting her was a risk, as if her new friends discovered what he was they would likely come for him, but it was a risk that he was willing to take. The thought of being discovered no longer seemed to terrify him, as he was far too focused on his goals to find fear in something that may or may not even happen.

  As the phone rang a seventh time, Sam was almost convinced that it was going to go through to voicemail, but to his astonishment someone finally answered. “Hello?” He instantly recognised the sound of Alice’s voice and was almost lost for words, pausing a moment as he worked hard to stop himself from stuttering.

  “Alice? I need your help.” Sam felt exhausted and knew that he was sounding a little off, his intense hunger still tearing away at his insides. The quality of the line itself was poor too, with the crackling of static affecting the call. It was one of many reasons that Alice didn't realise who was speaking, as well as the fact that he was supposed to be dead.

  “I'm sorry, but who is this?” She sounded a little distracted and distant as she spoke, so Sam tried again, having less trouble talking this time around.

  “It's me, Alice.” He attempted to speak clear and concisely, but knew that exhaustion wasn't helping his case.

  “Who?”

  Alice still didn't seem to know who he was, so it was time to make his identity plainly obvious. “It’s Sam.”

  For a moment Sam thought that the call had ended, but he could still hear noise in the background. It seemed that Alice had been struck speechless, which was understandable considering the massive bombshell that he had just dropped on her. He let the news soak in, not pushing the subject as he waited for her to process it all.

  When she finally spoke, Alice sounded much perkier than she had before. She was seemingly elated to hear from him as she replied enthusiastically. “Sam, I've missed you so much. I thought you were dead… How did you get this number?”

  Sam felt a renewed sense of energy himself, talking to Alice as if they had never been apart. “It's a long story, and most of it you won't believe.” He had genuinely missed her and longed to see his friend again in person. Something about talking to her made him feel calm and relaxed.

  Alice chuckled quietly. “Sam… You have no idea…” She seemed a little distracted now as a car engine could be heard running in the background, only just discernible over the continued static. “Sam, please stay on the line. I'm goi
ng to grab a quick bite to eat.”

  Sam understood exactly what that meant, as he too needed to feed. He knew what Alice was and felt the same hunger. However, she likely didn't starve herself in the same way that he did and could feed normally without the need for implements or breaking flesh. After all, her blood was thicker than his, so she hadn't been cursed with a lack of fangs. Unlike him, she didn't suffer from the thin blood of the Forsaken.

  Chapter Twenty Three: A friend in need.

  Aaron and Tommy were back at the same dusty, old motel room that had started to feel as though it was becoming their permanent home. They had been living there for far longer than they had stayed anywhere else in years and the state the place was in just showed that the pair of them weren't used to leading normal lives. Aaron had actually managed to unpack his luggage and filled the drawers in an attempt to make himself comfortable, whereas Tommy liked to live out of his bag so that he could leave at a moments notice. Neither of them liked feeling as though they were trapped, but they dealt with it in their own separate ways.

  Recently Aaron began to notice that the place reminded him of Jack Olsen’s apartment. They had stacked up numerous pizza boxes and empty beer bottles, with neither of them wanting to take out the trash. Suspicious of people snooping through their belongings, the pair had denied the maid entry to the room despite her protests and repeated complaints to the manager. Fortunately for them, the man in charge didn't care as long as they kept up their payments. However, it was a task that was proving to be increasingly difficult due to their cash reserves getting low.

  Tommy sat across from Aaron at the small table they had placed adjacent to the window. They kept the shade down to avoid the prying eyes of passers by as they loaded bullets into empty magazines. Their guns had been dismantled for cleaning, with each part laid out professionally and with more care than they gave to their other belongings. Eric, their old friend and mentor, had always taught them to respect their weapons and it was a lesson that they had never forgotten.