Blood of the Forsaken

by David Horrocks

  Aaron finished loading his magazine and placed it carefully on the table, looking up at his friend with quiet curiosity. There had been something eating away at him since their meeting with Sam Mitchell and it was about time that he ended the awkward silence between them. “Do you trust him?”

  Tommy smirked in response, moving on from loading bullets to sliding the parts of his handgun back together. “Hell no!”

  Aaron furrowed his brow in annoyance. “Then why did you agree to help him?” He had been reluctant to leave Sam Mitchell alive, and it had taken a great deal of convincing from Tommy to leave the apartment. He didn't want to compromise who he was, nor break the promise that he had made to himself years ago.

  Tommy placed his half-finished gun down and leaned back in his chair where he crossed his arms across his chest and smiled wryly. “It's simple, man… They killed Christie. There's no way in hell that I'd ever let them get away with that. Mitchell is just a tool to get the job done.”

  Aaron felt comforted by his friend's words, relieved that he hadn't completely lost his mind. “So we let him live for the time being… and then?”

  A quick shrug of the shoulders let Aaron know that Tommy didn't really care. “After it's over, you can do whatever the fuck you want with him. Just don't expect me to help.”

  Tommy shifted his weight forwards, picking up his pistol as he proceeded to finish the task of assembling it, leaving Aaron wondering if there was more to left to say between them. “Is that all? We go after this TJ, I kill Sam Mitchell and then we finally get out of here?”

  Aaron waited for a reply that came a little slower than he would have liked as Tommy put together the final pieces of his gun, quickly inspecting the slide and chamber to make sure that everything worked as it should. “Dude, you know me. I realise the kid is a little to blame for her death and I can't ever forgive him for that, but… I can't kill someone she loved, even if it was another guy. That’s like destroying a piece of her. I just can't fuckin’ do it.”

  Aaron finally understood. Everything was about Christie Reece and it always had been. Her legacy was one of music and misery, and joining Sam Mitchell’s quest for revenge was just part of Tommy's grieving process. “Alright then. I won't force you to do it, just don't get in my way when the time comes.”

  Tommy nodded slowly to signify his agreement, laying his completed handgun back on the table. He glanced over at the parts lying in front of Aaron and grinned widely. “I'm still faster. Hurry the fuck up, dude!”

  Aaron looked down at the table and chuckled. He had been so distracted by the conversation that he had forgotten what he was doing. “Okay, Tommy… You're still number one.”

  It was good to see that Tommy still had a lighter side to him, even after everything that had happened. He jumped up from his chair, raising his arms into the air as part of his victory celebration. “And the crowd goes wild! Tommy Hughes takes the gold!” Tommy pretended to pick up a microphone as he simulated the sounds of a large crowd cheering for him. “I’d like to thank my fans for their support and my awesomeness for making it all possible!”

  Aaron groaned loudly, covering his face with his hands. “Please make it stop…”

  Unfortunately, the celebrations would likely continue for at least an hour, but Aaron wouldn’t do anything to stop it. It was good to maintain his friend’s high spirits for as long as possible, as there was no telling what the next few nights would hold. Hopefully the morning’s inevitable hangover wouldn't be too punishing.

  **********

  Sam waited patiently at the bus depot, having sat himself down on a bench outside. He was still feeling completely drained and couldn't find the energy to stand for long. He also couldn't remember when he had last fed, his body wracked with pain that came in waves. Even the undead needed to feed, although he wouldn't die from starvation. Without blood, he would simply fall into a deep slumber, with no way of waking up from it without the assistance of another. Sam didn't know how close he was to the precipice, but he suspected that he was nearing its edge.

  It had been almost a week since Sam had spoken to Alice and requested her aid, and the hunters were already getting restless. They didn't seem to understand that Calgary was hundreds of miles away and that she could only move by cover of night. Alice would be travelling as fast as she could, with only her vulnerability to sunlight slowing her down. Sam knew that Aaron and Tommy didn't trust him, but that was fine as long as they stayed put and didn't try to do anything stupid.

  Leaning back against the concrete wall behind him for support, Sam felt nervous with the anticipation of Alice’s arrival and still wasn't sure what to expect. He knew that he had changed and that he wasn't the same person he had been when he knew her, but he also had no idea of knowing who she was anymore either. He had only seen her at a distance and that had only been a brief glance. If she was truly part of the vampire elite, it was possible that she would revile him due to what he had become. Sam recalled the fear that he had felt within the theatre in Calgary and silently prayed that their friendship was more important to her than any discriminatory beliefs.

  The depot had been unusually quiet, with only a few buses pulling up to drop off passengers, although the usual traffic still passed by in the street at the far end of the complex. Cars and taxis were cutting each other off in typical fashion while beeping their horns in frustration. Sam didn't know which bus Alice was arriving on with her entourage, but she had sent him a text message to say that they would be arriving shortly. He kept an eye on the screen hanging just above his head, checking the time at a regular basis as if it would make any difference at all.

  The loud roar of an engine snapped Sam to attention, causing him to sit up straight as he looked around for where it was coming from. The deafening sounds originated from a large motorcycle that slowed to a stop by the curb a dozen or so feet from where he was sitting. The rider was a large and mean looking man dressed in military style clothing, who looked him up and down as he planted his boots on the ground and lowered the kick stand. The noise soon ceased as the the man turned off the motor, his intense stare locking on to Sam who found himself unable to turn away.

  The unwavering gaze of the biker’s dark eyes made Sam feel unwelcome there, although he had been the one to claim that spot first. Even with his new found confidence, he didn’t feel as though he was ready to stand up to a man who exuded power and strength on a level that almost matched the Huntsman's. As he stood up straight and dismounted his vehicle, Sam saw that the man towered over him in height, his lean and muscular figure only adding to his already high level of intimidation.

  The tall man strode forward with purpose, his body language signalling that he wasn't someone to be trifled with. A long, faded scar across his forehead cut deep into the dark hair of his buzz cut, with a five o’clock shadow beneath that clashed with ghostly white skin. It was the rugged appearance of a no nonsense type of man, who for some reason had focused his attention on Sam and was closing the gap between them at record speed.

  Sam braced himself for a fight, quickly standing up from the bench so that he could better defend himself. He shifted his weight so that he was ready to move at the drop of a hat, but the large biker stopped in his tracks just out of arm's reach. There was a moment of eerie silence that confused him to no end. It was a feeling that was only added to when the man stepped aside, allowing a clear view of the motorcycle behind him and the much smaller passenger who hadn't been noticable at all until now.

  It took Sam a little while to recognise the woman clad in her white t-shirt and jeans. She was still straddling the leather seat, her slender form having previously been hidden behind the biker. She looked at him through blonde, windswept hair, her smile widening as she studied his face. “Sam!” Alice called out with glee in an accent that reminded him of everything that he had once loved about his home back in Kansas. She hopped down from her perch and rushed over to him at pace much faster than should have been possible.

&n
bsp; Sam didn't have time to react before Alice slammed into him with surprising force and her thin arms wrapped around him. She buried her face into his shoulder as she gave him a tight squeeze. “I've dreamt of this moment for so long.” She sounded genuinely happy to see him, but her sudden appearance had caught him off guard, leaving him somewhat speechless.

  Sam’s attention was drawn back to the man who still stared at him with distrust, a look that was becoming increasingly familiar to him these days. Whoever he was, he didn't appear to approve of the whole situation and clearly wasn't impressed with them meeting at a bus depot. He crossed his arms in front of his chest, not taking his eyes off them for even a second.

  After another minute of holding Sam in her arms, Alice let go and took a step back to get a better look at him. She still stood a little taller than he did, which was made even more obvious by the way she now carried herself, so full of grace. The edges of her lips curled upwards as she beamed widely, the blue of her eyes slightly tainted by pools of crimson that began to form around the edges.

  Alice was still the same girl that Sam had known growing up to a certain extent, but she was still different somehow. Like him, she had grown up from the skinny kid that she had once been and had gained a great deal of confidence along the way. A confidence that they had both been lacking. She was no longer the same shy child, but that wasn't the biggest change that he had noticed. There was a glint in her eyes of something darker, something feral that was trying to break out. Sam had seen that look before, but this time it actually scared him. He would rather face the Huntsman or the mysterious biker than cross the girl who had at one time been his best friend.

  A hand reached out to carefully rest soft, cold fingers against Sam’s cheek and with it Alice’s smile faded as it was replaced with a look of concern. “Oh Sam, your face…” She traced the lines of his burns and scar tissue with her fingertips as she fought back tears of sorrow. “You've been through so much... I'm sorry that I wasn't there for you.”

  Sam tried to smile at her, but he simply couldn't find the energy. “It's fine. You thought I was dead, and for a while I kind of was.”

  Alice's nose appeared to twitch in response as she sniffed the air, her eyes narrowing to slits as she studied him further. “You smell a little weird... It's strange though, I can't place it.”

  Sam had an idea of what it was, but he didn't know how to say it. Fortunately, or unfortunately for him, Alice’s intimidating companion knew exactly what was going on. “I know the scent, I've smelled it before.” The man spoke slowly but surely, catching her attention.

  “What is it, Matty? What's wrong?” She peered back at him, awaiting an answer that Sam wasn't sure he wanted to come.

  Matty took a step towards them, large fangs protruding from his mouth as he bared them aggressively. “Your friend is cursed. That smell… It’s the blood of the Forsaken.”

  **********

  “I’m sorry, but I don't quite understand.” The puzzled look on Alice’s face made it clear to Sam that she didn't have a clue what her companion had meant by him having the blood of the Forsaken.

  The trio had migrated from the bus depot to a relatively quiet bar just a few streets over. The place was quaint to say the least, with a small seating area that housed a few tables and a couple of booths that could fit at least four people each. Sam and Alice had made themselves comfortable at the booth in the furthest corner from the bored looking bartender and his single patron. They had ordered drinks to maintain their cover as normal humans who were just catching up, with no intention of drinking a single drop.

  The brooding man, who Alice introduced as Matty, kept his voice low as he squeezed into place next to her, his knees and elbows taking up more space than was necessary. He was less than friendly when speaking to Sam, insisting that he be addressed as Matthew instead. He appeared to have a soft spot for Alice, which bothered Sam no end as they both kept an eye on each other from a safe distance.

  Matthew rubbed his rough chin with his knuckles, his brow knitting together in annoyance as he continued to eye up Sam who had sat directly across from him. “He isn't quite like us, he’s broken. Some say cursed.” It was difficult to pin down where Matthew’s accent hailed from, but Sam suspected that he was from somewhere along the east coast. “His blood is weaker, making him something else. His kind aren't welcome in most cities and in others, they're hunted to extinction.”

  Sam grumbled, raising his voice in annoyance. “My name is Sam!”

  Shushing him to keep from drawing unwanted attention, Alice reached across the table to place a hand upon Sam’s arm, a move noticed by Matthew who instantly scowled. “It’s okay, Sam. He doesn't mean any harm. Do you, Matty?”

  The tall man huffed loudly, an act which she chose to ignore. It was clear that Alice cared for him a great deal, a fact that she seemed to be trying not to flaunt in Sam’s face. After all, their friendship had sadly fallen apart following the awkwardness that had arisen from Sam declaring his feelings for her.

  After a brief silence, Alice turned her attention back to Sam as she tried to gleam some more information from him. “You both keep saying that Sam's different, but what does that actually mean?”

  Sam looked down at Alice’s hand, his gaze lingering on it for a moment before he began to play with the full glass of beer that he hadn't touched. “I age slowly, but I will still grow old, or so I've been told... I can go out in sunlight for a time, but I'll never fully heal from it.” He gestured to the burn marks on his face before continuing. “But that's not even the worst part. I don't have fangs like you, so I can't feed without ripping or cutting flesh. That's why I starve myself... I can't bear to hear the screams, so I let myself go hungry.”

  Alice squeezed Sam’s arm gently, causing him to look up at her blue eyes full of sorrow. They weren't quite as bright as Christie’s, but they were just as beautiful to behold. “I'm really sorry, Sam. I can't imagine what that must be like. Perhaps we can help you somehow…” She peered back at Matthew who simply shrugged his shoulders in response, saying nothing until he received a sharp nudge from her elbow.

  “We’ll come up with something...” There was a darker note in Matthew's tone that made Sam feel uneasy, but he didn't know him well enough to judge whether it had been a veiled threat or not. The glint in the man’s eye as he spoke the words was unsettling, and it seemed that the lack of trust ran both ways.

  Neither Alice, nor Matthew truly understood what Sam had been through, but he was sure that they had survived through trials of their own too. What he wasn't sure of was what Alice had meant by helping him. If she offered him her own blood in the way that Christie once had, he would have to deny the offer as he wasn't about to bind himself to another vampire any time soon. He had only just come to his senses, but it wouldn't seem right to be so close and intimate with anyone else either. It would feel like cheating. Like he was being unfaithful to the one he had lost.

  Sam was surprised when Matthew spoke again, not expecting much from the man who had so far said so little. “I know the Forsaken. I once counted a few of them as friends, but we live in a world that doesn't accept those who are different.” A sense of guilt seemed to take over, causing Matthew to avert his gaze and stare down at an empty spot of the table as if he was remembering something that he had tried to forget.

  Alice appeared to notice the distant look in her companion’s eye and looked up at his face with concern. “What happened to them?”

  Sam didn't say a word as the man began to dredge up old memories, his voice solemn and yet stern at the same time. “I fought my way to the top of the food chain, but did some things along the way that I'm not proud of…” He spoke slowly and in a strained manner that suggested that the words didn't come easy to him. “The path to becoming an enforcer of the king's will isn't an easy one. You have to make sacrifices for your city… and mine involved the extermination of all Forsaken who lived in Baltimore.”

  Sam had no idea that kings e
ven existed, let alone what an enforcer did. The mysteries of the upper echelons of vampire society were still a mystery to him. Matthew continued his story, still refusing to make eye contact with either him or Alice as he spoke. “I regret what I did, and I'll never forget the faces of those I killed... The night I carried out my king’s command was the same night I decided I was done with that city.”

  From how he sat, it was plain to see that Matthew's actions weighed heavily on his shoulders. He clenched his fists where they rested on the table, one of which was soon held by Alice who had moved her hand off Sam’s arm to do so. “And that's when you came to Calgary.” She smiled at him encouragingly, letting the man know that she didn't harbour any ill will for the things that he had done before they met. In return, Matthew nodded slowly, lifting his gaze up to meet hers with a slight smile pushing through his serious expression.

  Sam didn't really want to know how the two had met, a feeling of jealousy bubbling up inside of him. He didn't know if it was because he was jealous of Matthew’s relationship with Alice or because he no longer had one of his own, but however he felt it didn't stop her from elaborating further. “We’re from the same bloodline. We both have different makers who were created by the same elder vampire. One who called all her surviving descendants to her side.”

  Sam wondered if that meant that they were actually related as cousins of some sort, or if there was something more complicated going on. He felt confused by the meaning behind their words and what familial ties meant to immortal beings who had been reborn as creatures of the night. Had they forgotten their old lives and their families, or had they simply decided to move on? At least Alice still remembered him, if no one else did.

  Sam looked back and forth between the pair as they silently enjoyed each other's company. “So why did you leave Calgary? When I spoke to you before you said that you were already heading south.”