The Complete Vampire Project Series: (Books 1 - 5)

by Jonathan Yanez

  Jack and Aareth exchanged shocked expressions. Marcus smirked like he was privy to a secret.

  “Ummm… thanks?” Aareth said.

  “Now let’s see who’s responsible for attacking the locomotive and derailing the Queen’s greatest achievement, shall we?” Sloan motioned for one of the men standing near the crowd to hand her the lantern he carried. The worker obediently complied.

  “How do we do that?” Jack cocked his head to the side.

  Sloan walked over to the two mage-powered machines and slowly moved the lantern around the bicycles’ exterior.

  The group of men who gathered to ward off what they thought was a threat was beginning to disperse. Some made their way back to the tents while others hung around, waiting to get a chance to examine the pair of strange machines themselves.

  “What are you looking for?” Jack asked.

  “These mechanisms are on par with what the military in New Hope is developing.” Sloan was bending over, examining the leather saddle on one of the strange machines. “Most manufacturers leave a brand or stamp on their products. There has to be one on this—here!”

  The three men ran to her side and leaned down, eyes squinted at the back of the dark brown saddle on the steam-powered machine. Sloan was pointing to an almost invisible emblem branded into the seat. It was a picture of a tiny “L” and “I” that looked like smoke stacks with smoke coming out of them in a circle that resembled a gear.

  “What—what does “LI” mean?” Jack asked.

  “It stands for Livingston Industries,” Sloan said.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Sloan

  “Wait, the same Dr. Oliver Livingston we met during the tour with Edison?” Jack asked.

  “The same one,” Sloan answered.

  All four members stood quietly for a moment, considering what the connection could mean.

  “We need to warn Edison and the Queen.” Sloan swung the lantern and turned to walk to the camp.

  “We need more proof before we start making accusations,” Aareth cautioned the captain. “I know what this looks like, but it’s possible these machines were stolen.”

  “I agree,” Marcus chimed in.

  “And how do you gentlemen suggest we get more proof?” Sloan asked.

  “The bodies,” Jack said in a low voice as if he were talking to himself. “Has anyone looked at the bodies of the men who attacked us?”

  “Follow me.” Sloan took the lead, lantern still swinging in her left hand.

  Jack, Marcus, and Aareth walked with her through the tent city, where men were standing in small groups talking about the events of the day and what it could mean. More than one wary eye or frown was directed at the group.

  As they broke through the ring of tents, Sloan made a beeline for a spot where a large blanket was thrown down covering six lumps.

  Death was something that Sloan had learned to deal with through the years. Without hesitation, she grabbed a corner of the sheet and threw back the cover. Six dead men glared at the sky through unseeing eyes.

  As expected, Marcus and Jack were the only ones that showed shock. Aareth’s cold blue eyes were as indifferent as her own.

  Aareth knelt by the first figure. He removed the man’s mask. The man looked like he was in his mid-thirties, with a bald head and a twisted nose.

  “Jack,” Sloan motioned for him to come over, “take the light.”

  Sloan handed him the lantern and knelt down, examining the sword the dead man still carried in a clenched hand. “This is military issued to the soldiers of New Hope—I—I have one just like it.”

  “He’s definitely a soldier.” Aareth moved on to the next body. “They all were.”

  “How can you tell?” Marcus asked as he, too, knelt in the cold sand.

  “Worn boots, like Sloan said, military-issued weapons, and we can know for sure if…” Aareth rolled up the right sleeve of the man he was examining to reveal a tattoo of New Hope’s banner, two crossed swords behind a black bat.

  “Sloan, do—do you recognize any of them?” Jack asked.

  “No, but I think Aareth is right.” Sloan stood and shook her head.

  “So who attacked us?” Jack’s voice broke with uncertainty. “Doctor Livingston? The Queen? Both of them?”

  “I don’t know, Jack.” Marcus’ eyes fixed on the corpses. “But I think we can all agree that whoever it is doesn’t want us to make it to Burrow Den.”

  “Well, I say that’s exactly where we go and get some answers.” Aareth stood from his position next to the dead bodies. “We won’t find anything more here. Their pockets are empty—all we have to go on is their weapons and tattoos.”

  “I can’t wrap my mind around Queen Eleanor being involved in this.” Sloan pushed a rogue hair from her line of sight. “But either way, we need to get to Burrow Den quickly. After the locomotive crashed, I sent a rider to the Queen to inform her of the attack. If she is involved, then we have to get to Burrow Den and figure out what’s going on before the Queen or whoever it is that attacked us has a chance to react.”

  “The mage bicycles will get us there twice as fast as any horse and we’ll be able to travel during the night.” Aareth motioned to the steel machines.

  “I’ll have the foreman look at the machines and make sure they’re ready to travel first thing tomorrow morning,” Sloan instructed. “Let’s try to get a few hours sleep and reach Burrow Den before another attempt is made on our lives.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Jack

  That night, Jack was shown to a small tent he would share with his father. Any thought of food made his stomach queasy as he remembered the broken bodies and twisted faces Aareth rummaged through like junk in an old room.

  “Are you all right, son?” Marcus asked as he prepared his own cot for the night.

  “I’m fine, just tired. So much is happening. Who do you think is behind it all?”

  “There are quite a few different possibilities, so it’s hard to say. What I do know for certain is that Sloan has nothing to do with this. She’s rough around the edges, but when it comes down to it, we can trust her.”

  “I think we can trust Aareth too. He’s been through a lot, but he saved me on the train.”

  “Well, whoever our enemies are, at least we know they are not among our allies.”

  “I guess that’s a first step. Good night, Dad.”

  “Good night, son.”

  Jack threw himself onto his cot. He tried to go to sleep, but every time he closed his eyes, he could hear Aareth yelling at him to shoot, to kill the man that was racing towards him.

  His dreams were no different. He was on the train again as it sped through the darkness at a mind-numbing rate. He held the steel wand in his hand. Someone was screaming at him to shoot. It wasn’t Aareth’s voice this time; it was a female voice, coming from someone who he missed very much. Something was running toward him. All Jack could see in the darkness was the shape of a large bat.

  His arm holding the wand rose as the figure approached. He couldn’t fire. The imploring female voice yelled for him to take action, but it was too late. The last thing Jack remembered before he woke was being tackled by a gigantic bat with red eyes and a mouth full of sharp teeth.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Jack

  Jack sat straight up in his cot as the memories of his dream drifted into oblivion. He tried to recall what woke him so scared. There was little time for him to remember as he saw his father’s cot empty beside him. Light already replaced the darkness outside the tent.

  Jack slipped on his dark boots. He grabbed his weapon and long jacket before he exited the tent. The sun was just rising, but already the tent’s inhabitants were awake and busy with work.

  Jack spotted Aareth, Sloan, his father, and the foreman he had seen Lieutenant Baker talking to when they rode into New Hope. The group was standing around the two mage bicycles.

  “Really impressive machines, actually,” the fo
reman was explaining to the group. “All that is needed to run them is the same magical energy we use to power the locomotive.” The foreman pointed a stubby finger to a twist-off cap on the rear of the mage-powered bicycle. “After the machine has cooled down, you unscrew this cap and fill it with the mage fuel. The mechanism heats the fuel and uses it as a sustainable source of power to propel the bicycle forward. I don’t understand it all, but I’ve filled both containers with mage fuel for now. How long they’ll last, I can’t be sure. Oh, and you may need these if you’re traveling through the desert in an open vehicle.” Christopher passed out brown and black goggles to the group.

  “Thank you, Christopher.” Sloan adjusted her sword in preparation of mounting the machine.

  “There he is. We’re eating breakfast on the road. Ready to roll?” Aareth tossed Jack a pair of goggles along with a green apple.

  “Yeah, how fast do you think we can make it to Burrow Den?”

  “If we ride hard and these machines can keep up, no more than two days.”

  The group exchanged good-byes with Christopher, who headed back toward the tent city with a wave.

  “Okay, who’s riding with me?” Aareth asked.

  Jack was already mounting one of the machines. His apple nearly devoured, he smiled as his father handed him a biscuit. Marcus was positioning himself behind his son.

  “I don’t think so, Aareth,” Sloan scowled, her toned arms crossed in front of her military-style shirt. “You’re in the back. I’m operating.”

  There was an awkward pause as Aareth’s and Sloan’s eyes locked. An immovable object met an uncompromising force.

  “Ummm… Yeah, about that. No.” Aareth grinned, clearly enjoying the captain’s dilemma.

  “If you think that just because you’re a man that I can’t—” Sloan balled her fists and put one on each of her hips.

  “Whoa there, tiger, this has nothing to do about me being a man or trying to assert some kind of dominance. I’d actually prefer it if you operated this thing. I just want you to hop on for an hour or two so you can get the hang of it and I can explain to you how it all works.”

  “Oh… Well, I didn’t know that. I guess that makes sense.”

  Jack let a small smile play across his lips before Sloan turned in his direction and he immediately faked a cough with a gloved hand to hide his mouth. Jack noticed his father lock eyes with Sloan and raise his eyebrows, giving her an “I told you so” kind of look.

  Sloan positioned herself behind Aareth but refused to wrap her arms around his chest or waist. Instead, she gripped the frame of the bike on either side of her seat.

  Jack ignited the engine and the machine roared to life. Red steam shot from both sides of the bike from the metal pipes that pointed toward the sky.

  “Don’t worry, Dad. I’ve got this all under control.” Jack could practically feel how nervous his father was behind him.

  “Well, if I have to go, I guess riding a steel rocket with my son at the wheel is as good as any.”

  Jack laughed out loud and pressed his right foot down on the pedal. The machine shot forward and soon they were flying across the desert toward Burrow Den.

  Throughout the day, Jack and Aareth took turns in the lead. At lunch, Sloan took over, while Marcus politely refused the operating duties. Jack was more than content with his father’s apprehension to operate the machine. Jack loved the way the mage-powered bicycle moved. The way the wind rushed all around him and the power he felt at being able to make the machine go in any direction he deemed fit was intoxicating.

  The four members of the Queen’s emissary were able to make amazing time. The machines allowed them to make a beeline for Burrow Den instead of having to stick to roads. This also ensured they wouldn’t pass anyone on the way, thus avoiding any kind of confrontation or ambushes waiting for them. The machines also more than doubled the pace they would have been able to keep if they had ridden horses.

  The sun was beginning to set on the vast desert, when Jack noticed two things. The first was that he could see a line of mountains approaching on the horizon, marking the end of the wasteland. The second was the wind was picking up in intensity. Sand was beginning to twirl and swirl in every direction.

  Jack trusted the operation of the bike to one hand as he placed the goggles Christopher provided over his eyes.

  Sloan was riding opposite Jack and she swerved close enough to shout. What she was saying, Jack couldn’t pick up. The rushing sound of the wind and the amount of sand that was now in the air made it near impossible to communicate. The sand created a kind of rainy fog as they continued forward.

  “What? What are you saying?” Jack shouted and looked at Sloan for as long as he dared. “I can’t hear you!”

  Sloan swerved closer, and this time, Aareth shouted something and pointed behind him. The only word Jack caught was enough for him to understand. “Sandstorm!”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Jack

  Jack could feel his father tapping him on his back. He chanced a quick look over his shoulder, and at the same moment, wished he hadn’t. There was a wall of sand over a hundred feet high rushing toward them. It was still more than a quarter mile away, but Jack knew how quickly a sandstorm was capable of moving.

  Marcus’ arm shot forward on Jack’s left side. His father’s finger pointed to the ridge of trees marking the edge of the desert and the beginning of the mountainous forest region.

  “Can—we—make it?” his father shouted into his ear.

  Jack set his jaw and nodded. Sloan and Aareth must have noticed Marcus’ pointing finger. Sloan stayed close and they both gunned the engines.

  Sand swirled around them at hazardous speeds as they raced toward the safety of the tree line. Jack jammed his lips shut as he squinted through the goggles and tried to ignore the uncomfortable feeling of tiny granules making their way inside his ears and nostrils.

  Fear began to pump through his veins like poison as he lowered his head and thought about the possibility of not reaching the tree line in time. If they didn’t make it to the safety of the trees, Jack knew they had a very small chance of survival. They would be enveloped and buried by the wall of sand behind them. These thoughts made Jack do the worst thing possible. He looked behind him again.

  The wall of sand was racing toward them and gaining even at the breakneck speed the mage-powered machines were traveling. The wall of sand was at least as tall as New Hope’s city walls. Jack tried to focus on anything except the stories he heard about men trapped in sandstorms and buried alive, although he couldn’t.

  The tree line was approaching quickly. Thirty yards away from the safety of the trees, Jack could make out the detail of the hedge of pines before them. He aimed the machine for a spot between two large trees and prayed they would make it.

  Twenty yards away from safety, the sandstorm overtook them. Jack felt the machine nearly lift from the ground. His father’s strong arms wrapped around his chest, tight and firm. Jack knew his father was trying to shield him as best as he could.

  Ten yards from the tree line, the limited visibility they had turned to none at all. Jack set his jaw and tried to remember where he had seen the opening in the line of trees. Was it here? Was it a little to the left? Am I going left now or is this straight?

  The sand was so thick in the air, Jack couldn’t even see the control panel right under his eyes, much less what was in front of them. Out of nowhere, tree limbs appeared. At the rate Jack and his father were traveling, the tree branches struck the machine with wood-splintering force. Jack slammed on the brakes in an effort to halt their forward momentum and avoid his head being pulverized by a wayward tree limb, but in his effort to save his cranium, he slammed on the brakes too hard. Jack and his father were thrown off the bike and catapulted through the air.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Aareth

  Aareth knew they weren’t going to make the tree line, and sacrificing the fact that his mouth would be filled with san
d, yelled into Sloan’s ear, “We won’t—make it! Slow down!”

  There was the tiniest nod from Sloan as her ponytail whipped across Aareth’s face for the hundredth time. He grabbed on to her waist even tighter as the mage-powered machine wobbled and came to a sputtering stop.

  Chancing a tongue lashing about her status as a captain or woman or whatever she was so uptight about, Aareth grabbed Sloan around her waist and lifted her off the machine. They were close to the tree line, if they could only make it a few more yards.

  To Aareth’s surprise, Sloan didn’t struggle or say a word. Instead, she leaned into him, and together, step by step, they walked through the sandstorm. The storm swirled and rushed around them, trying to force them to their knees or at least bring them to a standstill, but together, Aareth and Sloan refused to give in.

  Soon large shadows loomed out of the sand like fog, and within a few minutes, the two had made it a few yards into the forest’s interior. They sat huddled together behind a large boulder.

  Sloan pushed herself away from Aareth with an awkward cough and removed her goggles. “Oh sorry, I—”

  “Why don’t you go by your real name?”

  “What?”

  “You heard me.” Aareth shook sand from his long hair for the second time in as many days.

  “Sloan is my real name.”

  “You know what I mean. When the Queen introduced you to us when we all first met, she called you ‘Captain Charlotte Sloan.’ What do you have against the name Charlotte?”

  “Not that it’s any of your business,” Sloan picked sand out of her ears and spat out a few granules that worked their way into her mouth, “but Charlotte sounds too soft.”

  “Oh, and we can’t have that, can we? Captain Sloan has to be feared and respected.”