Blue Skin (Book 3): Blue Skin

by Jenkins, Steven

  I pull tighter and tighter.

  Don’t stop.

  No sound leaves the monsters mouth as it battles for oxygen.

  But I keep pulling.

  Harder and harder—until it stops struggling, until its body goes limp, and it collapses onto me in a heap.

  I roll its lifeless body off me, and then scurry away, terrified that there could be another creature lurking in the dark. Shoulder stinging, body drained of energy, I use the table to pull myself up, and then find my way back to the door. With my palm pressed against my shoulder wound, I peek through the tiny window, but there’s no one out there. I put my ear to the door, but there’s no sound. As I slowly open the door, the light of the corridor brings the dark room to life, illuminating the steel cabinets, the empty operating table, the lab equipment—and the dead vampire, lying face-down on the floor; its wrists shackled with thick chains to the wall.

  My stomach turns, my skin infested with goosebumps, still horrified by the attack. That could have been Ben. I could have strangled my own brother. Balling my fists up, my terror morphs into anger. I’ve got to get him out of this place.

  At the far left corner of the room, there’s a white door. Should I risk going through? It might be a safer route to the prison.

  I scan the corridor. It’s deserted.

  But for how long?

  Screw it. I’m a sitting duck out there. If someone comes, I’ve got nowhere to hide.

  I close the door and the room falls pitch black again. With my memory being my only guide, I reach the white door, and twist the handle. Locked. In the dark, I feel for a security panel. I find one, swipe my ID along the centre, and the door unlocks.

  15

  The passageway is narrow, like the walls of a medieval dungeon, except these are smooth and grey. After twenty metres or so, I arrive at a door, and reach for the handle. But then I stop just inches from it. What if I walk into a roomful of HCA? I should go back. Retrace my steps.

  No. Screw it. I’m going to keep moving forward. Find my own way to Ben.

  Gingerly, I twist the handle and open the door. Another corridor. A strong smell of bleach invades my senses, making my eyes water. I can’t see any HCA, just small glass rooms on both sides of me. Through each clear pane, I see medical monitors, computers, empty operating tables, and drip-stands.

  Laboratories.

  No, scratch that—torture chambers.

  Skin crawling, I check each room as I pass. There’s a blue door about fifty metres away. What if I’m getting further and further away from the prison?

  This is stupid. I’m gonna turn back.

  I hear muffled voices.

  My body jolts into life as I look for somewhere to hide. I race over to one of the lab doors. It’s locked. I swipe it with my key-card, there’s a beeping sound, and I scramble inside, closing the door behind me. Crouching behind a cabinet, I try to silence my thrashing heart. Two men wearing white lab coats walk by. To my left, I notice an operating table. There’s a pair of thick straps at each end, clearly for restraining a vampire. I imagine Ben strapped to it, poked and prodded like some lab-rat. A freak. This is exactly why Mum didn’t want to take him to the hospital when he was born. She knew what would happen to him.

  Guilt washes over me.

  I should have listened to her—instead of treating her like a lunatic.

  Just as I’m about to leave, something orange catches the corner of my eye. There’s a vampire, dressed in an orange boiler-suit, sitting against a stone wall, his head down, chin touching his chest, his wrists chained.

  Oh, Jesus Christ!

  “Ben!” I whisper, scrambling over to him, my stomach flipping with excitement. He doesn’t acknowledge me as I shake his shoulders. “Wake up, Ben. It’s me!” I lift his floppy head, and then shudder when I see the face of another half-breed. It’s not him. Drool swings from his mouth. Yellow eyes half open.

  Behind me, I hear the beeping noise of the security-lock.

  The door!

  “Who the hell are you?” A man wearing a white lab coat says; his voice gravelly, his grey beard thick and unkempt.

  In fright, I leap to my feet with clenched fists, unsure what to do next. But then, adrenaline kicks in and I hurtle towards him, slamming my forearm against his throat, my weight pinning him to the glass wall. “Where’s my brother?” I ask through gritted teeth, pushing my forearm even harder. Terrified, the middle-aged man tries to speak, but he’s choking; his cheeks reddening, his eyes bloodshot. I remove some of the pressure from his neck.

  “What’s his...name?” he stutters, gasping for air.

  “His name is Ben! He’s a half-breed!”

  “Freya?”

  He knows my name! I ram my knee into his thigh, missing his groin by an inch. “Tell me where he is!”

  “He’s in the Containment Zone,” he replies, his faced lined with pain. “I can take you there.”

  “How far is it?”

  “It’s close.” He motions with his eyes at the blue door. “I swear.”

  “Move your arse, then!” I grab him by his collar and walk him out of the room.

  That’s when I notice the red bulb at the top of the wall. It’s flashing. I glance behind me. There’s another one a few metres down the corridor. It’s flickering.

  “What have you done?” I ask, but then spot something in his hand. I pry his fingers open and discover a small walkie-talkie in his grip.

  The corridor fills with the sound of heavy footsteps.

  Just as a team of armed HCA flood towards me, I release the man and sprint away, aiming for the blue door directly ahead.

  Oh shit! They’re gonna shoot!

  Stop running, Freya! You’re gonna get yourself killed!

  They’re fast, gaining more ground.

  Don’t stop.

  Not until you find him.

  The door is just ten metres from me.

  Someone yells something at me, but it’s muffled by my heavy breath.

  Almost there...

  I can’t see a security panel on the door, just the words push above the handle, so I aim my shoulder at it, hoping momentum will take me through.

  Just another metre...

  I skid to a complete halt when the door swings open, and I’m met with another cluster of armed HCA.

  With nowhere to run, I check each side of me. More glass walls. No exits. No windows.

  I hear a chorus of clicks.

  “Don’t move a muscle.” A man says, aiming his rifle at my face.

  Brutally outnumbered, and with no escape route in sight, I raise both arms in trepidation. In surrender. My body is thrown to the wall, the back of my head cracking on the stone. I feel the cold metal of the rifle’s barrel pushing against my throat.

  The bearded man with the lab coat nudges the officer to one side, and the gun is lowered. “Glad you could join us, Freya,” he says with a smirk.

  A cold wave of despair flows through me, smothering me, robbing me of hope.

  “Michael’s been waiting for you,” he replies, just as something sharp pierces my neck.

  I grimace in pain as he retracts the syringe. “You bastard!” I try to swing a punch, but both my arms are pinned. “Ben,” I mumble as my jaw hangs low, and my head starts to spin. “I wanna see...my brother.”

  “Just relax, Miss Lawson,” he says, his voice and body evaporating as the effects of the drug takes over. “We’re taking good care of your brother...”

  “You’re...lying.”

  My heavy head droops forward.

  “Take me to him...”

  My legs turn to jelly.

  I wanna see my...

  And I close my eyes.

  Part VII

  BEN LAWSON

  16

  I pull hard on the chain, but nothing happens.

  I’m trapped.

  Where are they taking me?

  Freya! I can’t see you! Where are you?

  There is a small window at the back
. I look through the glass and see a dark road. And there are trees. Lots of trees.

  There are others here. Vampires. All chained.

  I’m scared...

  17

  The light burns my face when the doors open. I close my eyes.

  My knees hurt as they hit the floor.

  I’m in another building. There are men here. I can smell them. Sweat. Dirt. The blood inside their bodies.

  They wear black.

  And they have guns.

  I scream out in pain when the man pushes the stick against my neck. White and blue sparks crackling.

  Another stun-gun.

  There is a chain pulling us along a corridor.

  Where are we going?

  I can’t hear you, Freya.

  Where are you?

  I need you...

  18

  Another prison.

  Not like the farm. This one is much bigger.

  More vampires here. More than I’ve ever seen.

  I look around and see high walls. Too high to climb.

  I need to try. I need to leave this place.

  Need to find Freya.

  There is a man standing in front of me.

  I know him.

  “Remember me?” the tall man asks. He smiles.

  My body is shaking with anger. I want him dead!

  This is the man who shot Mum.

  Took her from me.

  I growl.

  “Thought we’d lost you forever.”

  The vein on his neck is big. Easy to cut.

  An easy feed.

  The man points at his mouth. “You did this to me. Scarred me for life. And you screwed up my leg. I doubt my knee will ever be right.”

  The man punches me in the face. I don’t feel any pain.

  “But you’re mine now, ya little prick!”

  I leap at his throat, my mouth wide open.

  The chain stops me.

  I pull hard, but nothing changes.

  The man laughs as I try to scratch him with my nails. “Fight as much as you want, Ben.” He walks away. “But you’re never getting out of here. Not while there’s breath left in these lungs.” He pulls out something from his pocket. It’s small, white and flat. He slides the object against the door and it opens.

  It’s a key.

  “Sleep tight. The sun’ll be up soon.” He closes the door and disappears...

  19

  My eyes hurt. I want to sleep.

  No.

  Not until I’m free.

  The other vampires are sleeping. Why aren’t they trying to escape?

  Without a key to the door, I have to climb.

  I pull on my chains. Too strong.

  With blurred vision, I stand up. The chain is long enough to get me to the wall. I reach out to touch it.

  ‘No!’ the vampire says; his words soft in my head. He’s young. Just a child. ‘Dangerous! The wall burns like fire.’

  I move my hand away and sit down again.

  I need a key then. There’s no other way.

  I rest my body along the cold floor and close my eyes.

  So tired.

  Let me dream of Freya...

  20

  In my dreams, I see Freya. She’s pointing a gun at the woman’s head. Maggie.

  I hear a loud bang. My chest is bleeding. I can smell the blood.

  I’m hungry.

  Something hits me. Another bullet?

  I open my eyes. There is a small red object on the floor. I pick it up. It’s soft like a sponge. I bring it to my nose.

  A bag of blood.

  I look around the prison. Vampires are biting the bags, drinking the blood inside.

  I bring it to my mouth and open it with my teeth. Blood fills my stomach.

  The hunger is gone.

  I throw the empty bag on the floor.

  The child falls in front of me, hitting his head against the stone. He is holding his blood bag tightly. A purebred tries to take it from him.

  I growl at the purebred. Screaming, he tries to punch me, but his chain is too short. I pull the child up from the floor, away from danger.

  I look at the purebred. ‘No fighting.’ I point to the locked door. ‘We fight them.’

  The child sits on the floor, drinking his blood. I sit with him.

  I wait for the purebred to attack again, but he sits instead...

  21

  The prison is filled with vampire cries because there are two men here.

  What do they want?

  “That one,” the man wearing the long white coat says. He points at a purebred.

  The other man shoots the purebred in the arm. With teeth out, he tries to fight back, but falls down.

  Is he dead?

  “Release sixty-three,” the man with the white coat shouts to someone outside the prison. I follow his words. There is another man sitting on a chair. Lots of lights and buttons in front of him. He presses a button and I hear a click. The purebred’s chains are off.

  Remember.

  The men drag the purebred towards the door. The man with the long coat opens it with his white key. And then they’re gone.

  ‘Where are they taking him?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ the child says. His voice is sad in my head. ‘Lots disappear.’

  ‘Do they come back?’

  He looks at the prison door. ‘Sometimes...’

  22

  Every hour I pull on my chains. The child tells me that it’s no use.

  I don’t listen.

  I have to escape. Find Freya. No matter what.

  When I hear the door open, I drop my chain on the floor to see who’s coming.

  “How’s your stay, Ben?” the man who killed Mum asks. He seems happy. Why? “Food, okay?”

  I leap to my feet. My stomach burns with anger.

  “Fancy a little walk?”

  I don’t bite him because there’s another man. He’s pointing a gun at my head.

  “Stretch those thin legs of yours?”

  I see the vein again.

  So easy.

  “I have someone up there that’s just dying to meet you.”

  Freya!

  “Sound good, Ben?”

  He turns to the other man, and nods.

  Something sharp hits my arm. A bullet?

  No blood, though.

  My eyes feel heavy.

  Now my legs. Arms.

  Sleepy.

  My head hits the...

  Part VIII

  SEAN RICHARDS

  23

  I wish this day would end.

  The stress is torturous. It’s like a snake coiled around my torso, squeezing, crushing my insides with every second I spend behind these walls, worrying about Freya, wondering how long she has before the alarms go off, before she’s caught, thrown in jail.

  Or shot.

  I shudder when I picture her lying dead on the floor, blood spewing from her body, her eyes still open, her mouth—

  No, Sean! Don’t think like that! She’s gonna be fine!

  Fine? Really? With all these HCA officers, armed to the teeth?

  Why did I agree to help her? How could I be so stupid? She’ll never get past the guards. I should have lied, told her that Ben was dead. She would have been upset, angry, but at least she’d be safe. At least she would have given up, moved on with her life.

  But now she’s here, one moment away from getting caught.

  “Are you going to eat that, or what?” Erin asks, pointing at my untouched cheese sandwich.

  I push the plate across the table towards her. “I’m not hungry?”

  “What’s wrong?”

  I shake my head. “Nothing’s wrong. It’s just the smell of dead bodies putting me off my food. It’s everywhere.”

  I shouldn’t have done that. I should’ve just eaten it. I look suspicious. Why did I have to tell her that I wasn’t hungry? She’s not going to buy the smell excuse. The stink clearly doesn’t bother her. Why s
hould it bother me?

  Stay calm, Sean. She doesn’t know anything.

  “Oh, God,” she says, picking up the sandwich. “You should have smelt it down the furnace earlier. Disgusting. I could barely keep my eyes open.” She takes a bite out of it.

  See? She doesn’t suspect a thing. You’re being paranoid.

  “Do you fancy seeing a movie later?” Erin continues. “Something dumb to take our minds off everything?”

  Just when I thought my day couldn’t get any worse, that guilt resurfaces again. I thought I’d managed to repress it.

  No such luck.

  “Maybe,” I say, forcing myself to make eye contact, “if Michael lets us out on time.”

  I should break it off with Erin tonight, before we go any further. It’s not fair on her. She doesn’t deserve any of this.

  Jesus Christ. What’s wrong with me? When did I become the type of guy who cheats on his girlfriend?

  I hate that guy.

  He’s a total arsehole!

  “Yeah. Good point,” she says with a mouthful of food. “Let’s just see how it goes.”

  But what happens if Freya manages to break Ben out of here? She’ll be gone again. And I’ll be stuck here on my own with nobody.

  So what? I’ve still got to break it off with Erin. It’s the right thing to do.

  The right thing?

  That sentence has no meaning anymore.

  “Coffee?” I ask, hoping some caffeine will shake off the anxiety.

  Erin shakes her head.

  Over at the counter, I flick the switch on the kettle, and take a mug from the cupboard.

  If Freya gets to Ben, somehow frees him from the Containment Zone, what then? She’ll never get him back to the garage without being seen. It’s suicide.

  I drop two heaped scoops of coffee into my mug.