by Jeff Seats
Not surprisingly, she found herself drawn to parental types and constantly sought their approval. This desire to be accepted, frequently lead to over-zealous behavior with the potential of disastrously embarrassing consequences. Take hugging a master sergeant as an example. So not in good form. At times, when nerves and adrenaline kicked in at the same time her overwhelming desire to please could make her look more the bumbling fool and not the sharp, intelligent person that she usually displayed, and was.
Now, despite her years of fighting it and believing that she could only count on herself to get things done, she longed to belong to a cohesive family. The military attracted her because of the possibility of finding that connection and a place where she could direct her abilities. In Master Sergeant Terry she found the guiding force of a mother and father that she didn't have growing up. She appreciated him for that and now was worried that in taking this new assignment she would forever lose the connection she formed here.
The momentary daydream seemed to put Liz’s life into perspective. She grabbed the envelope with her left hand and used her right to tear it open. Even still she cautiously peered inside looking for any hidden surprises. Finding none, she pulled out the letter very slowly, unfolded it and began to read:
Elizabeth Bernadette Adams.
You are to report to Mountain Home A.F.B. 5th, July. 0800 hours for introductory session and assignment.
Liz glanced at the calendar on the wall, not that she didn't know that it was July but the shock of how soon she had to report hit her. Today was the 3rd. She'd have to get moving to make the travel arrangements from Ft. Huachuca, almost on the border of Mexico, all the way north to Idaho. What the hell was there in Idaho? All of a sudden Liz started to think that her career just got side tracked to the lower fifty's version of Antarctica, the middle of nowhere frickin' Idaho. Great! She looked back at the travel orders:
You have been chosen to become a member of a very select organization, the nature of which will not be revealed to you until such a time when you are instructed as to the vital service you will be asked to perform for the safety of your nation and humanity. Your understanding of the importance of the mission must be acknowledged before you are allowed fully into the unit. To even reveal this much information to anyone will be considered an act of treason.
Well, they didn't mess around when it came to secrets. Maybe the middle of a spud field was the perfect spot for this “mysterious” organization. But first things first. A shower was in order then she would begin packing her gear. All of a sudden Liz was excited by the whole cloak and dagger feeling her orders imparted. Safety of humanity? It sounded like an evil organization needed stopping, and she was just the person who could do it.
—— ALEX ——
AS THE EXPANSE of stars began to fade away in the light of the rising sun, Alexei Rurik took one final look around the mountain top and breathed in the last of the early dawn air. He was tempted to watch the sun rise. He longed for the warmth that he remembered from his youth, but the burning heat that the rising sun would bring to him was more than he wanted. He liked living more.
Alexei appeared to be in his late twenties, or possibly 30, though he was pushing almost 200 years old; according to the way mortals figured time. He was strikingly handsome with sharp features; red hair shot through with blond streaks and pale skin.
With the sun creeping over the top of the eastern ridge, it was time. He walked to the trailer that was attached to the back of his jeep and opened the lid of a long rectangular box and climbed in. Then he laid back into the container that served as his bed when he went out camping and closed the lid. Comforting darkness surrounded him. Alexei turned the latches and sealed himself in from the harsh morning sun and other dangers that might be lurking about, trying to catch him in his slumber.
The cool, slightly damp soil that lined the box felt good on his back. The low hum of the generator that kept his “coffin/trailer” comfortable, while he slept, was barely audible through the insulation used to surround it. From the outside, the box looked like an overly long, metal ice chest. But this box was designed to keep him safe during the daylight hours, not keep beer cold, though it could do that too. One of the many marvels of the 21st century, courtesy of the United States government.
The thrum of the generator always lulled Alexei to sleep. There was something about the rhythmic quality that must remind him of being in his mother’s womb; a safer place, and time, far from where he now lay.
As Alexei felt sleep embrace him, his thoughts went to a time when he was a mere human boy and to the day when Vladimir had tricked him to go down into that ruin of a church. Mother had warned them, and she was correct. But she had no idea, it was just some idle superstitious talk from the local peasants that she repeated, but the talk of ghosts and supernatural occurrences was nothing compared to what lay in wait amidst the gnarled old oaks. What people should have been afraid of were vampires.
The first time Alexei had seen that mad monk Lazar he felt such a chill; like the summer had disappeared and they were standing in an ice palace. He should have listened to his mother, more importantly, he should have listened to his inner voice and the alarms that were sounding. Instead, he had to protect his younger brother, his brother who had already been visiting Lazar, his brother who had been bitten and then drunk of the vampire’s blood starting the process of turning him. His brother; who had been under the monk’s control the whole time and lured him to the ruins and into this so-called “life”.
Not that he had been able to turn and flee if he wanted to. There was no choice in the matter. He was doomed from the moment that the monk gazed into his eyes. Alexei lost all control and awareness of everything; his brother was nowhere around, and the rocks of the ruined building were just a gray blur. All he could see was Lazar. All he could do was what the monk willed him to do. Lazar's mouth did not move as he spoke but Alexei heard the words, not through his ears but inside his head, one mind communicating with another. “You have nothing to fear my son. I offer you a life that is far more vast and exciting than anything you could hope to see as a simple human.” Then, indeed his mouth did move as he opened it revealing white, sharp fangs. What Alexei felt as the monk bit into his neck was not quite painful, though the pain was present, there was something else his young mind could not process for lack of experience. Was it pleasure?
Father Lazar did not consume the brothers as he would have done with common bleeders. He kept them like flies caught in his spider web and drank of their youth only sparingly. Lazar had a grand plan for Alexei and Vladimir which required their turning to be a very slow process.
He taught them the ancient ways of the vampire realm and shared with them his accumulated wisdom as it flowed from the cuts in his wrists and into the boy’s eager mouths, one drop at a time. Lazar was grooming them, taking his time turning them, to use them later.
Alexei remembered the days back in Moscow, away from the life-force that Lazar offered through his veins, and how he longed for the family’s return to the country come summer and the sweet warmth of the old monk’s blood.
It went on like that for years. The daylight hours gradually became harder to take. Both of the brothers gradually became night people. His years at university were hard to endure as their classes took place when the sun was still out so he would bundle up with long flowing coats, scarves, and floppy hats whenever he had to venture outside. Alexei took to wearing dark glasses to keep the glare of the sun from giving him a headache. He waited in anticipation for the night when he could peel off the layers of protective fabric and breathe freely. All the while, his thirst for blood grew which he tried to quench with animal blood purchased from the local butcher. It served a purpose, the cow’s blood kept him from feeling like he was starving. But his real desire was for human blood.
The more complete his transition from human to vampire became the more he stopped looking at people as potential friends and started seeing them as walking sacks o
f nourishment. He would wonder what their blood tasted like based on appearance or attitude. Women no longer were targets for his sexual desires. All he wanted to do was stroke their lovely necks, then slowly sink his growing canines into them; puncturing the main artery between heart and brain. Those were the torturous days before his total change.
He never asked Vladimir if stray cats and dogs were enough to satisfy his cravings. Alexei and his brother had been growing apart throughout the years of their university education, so they rarely spoke to one another.
But, he was afraid that Vladimir was moving beyond the blood of animals and seeking that of humans. He saw more than one female at the school walking around with a medical dressing wrapped around her neck. The reason for their wounds Alexei could only surmise. And there were ever increasing rumors revolving around the disappearances of some students. Their absence from classes was no surprise, after all, not everyone had the ability to withstand the rigors of academic pursuits, and many returned home. However, when it was discovered that each of the missing had also up and left their lodgings unattended and with all their belongings still in place, well, that pointed at something possibly nefarious going on. And Alexei had his suspicions.
Their last summer at the family dacha was the end of their lives as humans, at least as mortal, bleeding humans. By now they were making their visits to the monk almost every night and on this visit Lazar spoke to them as though this was their graduation.
“My sons,” The monk said. “Tonight you will fully transition from that of a mortal bleeder and join the ranks of the chosen. I selected you to be immortals, but not ordinary ones. I have been educating you through my blood, instilling in you the qualities and knowledge to be great leaders. Through you, I will vanquish those that have made me such as this. You will be my revenge and in so doing come to command the allegiance of all the vampire houses.” Then he reached out his ancient hand and tenderly caressed Alexei's cheek. “And you, Alexei, you are destined to be Khan, the absolute leader of all immortals.”
The shock and devastation etched on Vladimir's face were the most memorable parts of all that took place that night. Alexei could tell that his younger brother felt betrayed by their blood father. It was Vladimir who discovered the old vampire. It should have been he who would ascend to the highest heights of the immortals. “Why not me?” He demanded.
“You are strong my son, but,” the monk placed his hand on the young man’s shoulder as he spoke but Vladimir angrily shook it, “Alexei is cautious. He thinks before he acts,” he continued. “He can focus his power which makes him the one to lead, but with you, by his side, there will be no immortal that can stop the two of you. You will remove my enemies--the ones who condemned me to this life--and seize control of the chosen. It is your destiny!”
There was more than just anger in Vladimir’s eyes that night. Alexei could see the beginnings of jealousy and a raging hatred that would one day be his downfall or Alexei's.
“Now it is time for you to bring your strength to full fruition.” Father Lazar led them around a corner of the old, ruin of a church. Standing there, waiting for them, were two peasant girls held motionless, by Lazar's mental control. These girls had terror in their eyes. They knew something bad was about to happen, but they were helpless to do anything about it. “Tonight you are reborn into the life of the undead. Drink deeply my sons. Soon the day will be upon us, and you will need to be safely in the dark otherwise the light will destroy you.”
The brothers approached the girls. Alexei slowly stroked the neck of one girl making her feel as much at ease with her destiny as possible not wanting to take her life to sustain his own, but the urge to consume her blood was all but overpowering him. Horrified by what he had become but even more horrified by the way Vladimir approached the other girl.
Vladimir grabbed her long hair and pulled her head back exposing her neck. He took his anger out on this poor girl. He didn't merely bite her neck. He tore into it with such savage power that he nearly severed her head from her shoulders. Alexei watched as Vladimir lapped up the gushing blood, bite after bite. It was as if he were eating her whole. When he got to her heart Vlad took it into his hands, how it was still beating Alexei would never know.
Vladimir licked the still pulsing organ, tenderly caressing it, studying it and only then, did he slowly bite into it, expecting to savor the last drop of the girl.
Father Lazar, now in the role of kindly mentor, chuckled and said, “I made the same error. The heart is a tough organ. The head, that is where you find the most and sweetest blood. We bite the neck because the blood flows through it on the way to the brain. It is the brain that demands the most blood. Drink from the head.”
And drink he did. Alexei remembered how intoxicated his brother became from emptying the skull of the young woman. Vladimir stood holding the severed head high in the air with his mouth wide unsuccessfully catching the final drops of the red fluid which dripped down onto his blood soaked shirt and adding to the pool that formed at his feet. He looked like a inebriated Kazakh who had celebrated too much after a victory. When finished he collapsed to his knees in a drunken stupor; awash in her blood.
There was so much blood that Alexei became distracted from his own innocent. She looked into his eyes with an unspoken prayer. He stroked her cheek and she smiled weakly, hoping. Then without hesitation, Alexei crossed over and entered the ranks of the immortals.
So very long ago. So many years had past and now this life of...what? Alexei knew his vampire family felt like kept animals. It was because of his agreement, his promise to Theodore to end the life of wanton killing, but what choice did he really have? Let the vampire hunters exterminate them all? At the time the original treaty was signed vampire numbers had dwindled to mere thousands. The death of his blood father signaled the end even before Alexei ascended to the high seat of the council.
Alone in the crumbling shell of the church that was his lair, Lazar was found by vampire hunters lead by an Orthodox priest. They had entered the ruin during the day finding Lazar asleep and then the killing began. The hunters drove a stake through his heart and into the earth beneath him. They hammered a stone wedge into his open mouth keeping his fangs from use even in death, and then they torched his body sprinkling its glowing embers with holy water. Alexei discovered Lazar's remains days later.
From that moment on Alexei made his play to ascend to the top of the council, to take control of all the disparate vampire families. He made Vladimir his second; sharing with his brother the power that was now theirs. Vladimir never challenged Alexei's rule. Together they continued the practices that the ancient ones had established before them, siding with despots and tyrants and trading protection from the vampire hunters during the daylight hours for access to the bleeding hearts of the ruler’s troublemakers in the dark of night.
And why not? What had worked for centuries was bound to continue to work. Right?
Now, locked away from the devastating light of day Alexei considered the deal he struck. It was much the same deal that vampires made with tyrants; protection from the hunters in exchange for blood. The same, except that it was different. A vampire’s nature was to roam freely picking and choosing its prey, not hidden away in the middle of nowhere, kept from the hunt.
How many more years could this deal stand? And was the agreement still valid when the other principal signatory had died almost 100 years earlier?
Alexei closed his eyes, ready for sleep. There were always many questions and few answers. One thing was certain. However, Vladimir was restless, as were several others with the largest question of them all hanging over his head. Did Alexei have the strength to hold off a rebellion?
—— ROADSIDE ATTRACTION ——
THE EARLY AFTERNOON sun beat down on Eddie's back. Like most of the weather in Oregon, Eastern Oregon especially, you never really got the weather you liked or needed. Take, for instance, the past night. The clouds had built up overhead in such a thick blanket that
the moon and stars could not cut through. A little light might have helped him then, maybe even kept him from taking that oh so wrong turn... Who the heck was he kidding? The sky was relatively clear and the sun still up when he chose to take the “short cut”. He would have to come up with a better story than that.
Eddie took off his hat and wiped a wrist across his sweaty brow; sorry that he didn’t have any water with him. What was his wife always saying? A human needs eight, twelve-ounce glasses of water a day, give or take. He placed his hat back on his head and wet his lips with a swipe of his tongue.
This was probably the worst situation that he had found himself in since he left the Marines. Certainly not as bad as Tết or the shit his dad had been through during the second world war participating in some of the nastiest of the island hopping and then finding himself in Korea smack dab in front of the Red Chinese Army at the Chosin Reservoir. His dad always loved to quote his commander's line whenever adversity struck, “Retreat hell! We're just advancing in a different direction.”
Eddie wished that he had some catchy quote to fall back on from his days in Nam. He’d sure be using it right now. For the moment, however, he would settle on the tried and true SNAFU; Situation Normal All Fucked Up.
He looked around and surveyed the area. There was nothing but the endless sagebrush and scrub juniper of the High Desert. Odd how he typically would have thought that this was the most beautiful place he had ever seen, but being lost with an out-of-gas bus and nine angry passengers, not to mention the thirst, he now found this part of the world bleak and inhospitable. He smiled at the weirdness of life and how perceptions could change so quickly.