Shades of Red

by T L Christianson

  Besides, I didn’t want it to break in my pack. Who knew what could be inside. I set the bottle down next to Jerky man.

  “It looks like none of them were restrained. No marks on the head.” I pointed out.

  “Maybe they were drugged?” He suggested.

  “Hmm… Maybe.” I studied one of the deteriorated faces. There wasn’t a lot to be learned from dead Moroi. They were hard to examine because of all the decomposition and contamination. My clues would have to come from the other detritus lying around the room.

  Spotting a clipboard, I looked it over. The writing was printed in a neat cursive hand. Below the heading, patients were listed by number with abbreviated notes and dates running across the page. Typically, each patient would have their own chart, but after a quick glance around, I assumed this was the only one.

  After I examined the pages, I held my hand out to Karsten, “Whatever you do, do not touch anything. It looks like he was trying to mutate and develop Moroi diseases.”

  He carefully set an object down next to him, bare hands with no gloves.

  “What disease? The plague?” He asked backing away.

  “I’m not sure, but they don’t look like they had OVC.” I examined another victim. There weren’t any black sores, the hallmark of the Moroi Plague. “No, it’s something else.”

  “Moroi sicknesses are very rare. Honestly, I thought we couldn’t get sick until the plague became so prevalent.”

  Nodding absentmindedly, I told him, “Yeah, there are very few Moroi illnesses, and most of them are inconsequential.”

  I stepped around to the next patient; he or she was barely more than a pile of ash and goo. Almost every single one had an IV.

  A lightbulb went on for me! I pulled on the bottle. “I know what this is! These IV’s have Fentanyl in them! It’s one of the drugs that work on Moroi.”

  “How do you know it’s Fentanyl? It’s almost impossible to detect without testing for it.”

  I nodded and pointed to the remains of the jerky person. “It makes sense. Look, they’ve been experimented on. They’ve been drugged and dissected.” My stomach roiled. Oh god, why did I just remind myself of that?

  Considering the room with this insight, I knew I was right.

  Before I knew where I was going, my feet had led me to a tray of dark smeared medical instruments that Karsten had been examining.

  “Seems that you’re right.” His accent was thick, and his disgust palpable.

  “There’s nothing more here that’ll help us,” I told him, revulsion and anger behind my words.

  “Come on.” His warm hand on my shoulder led me away from that awful room.

  Turning, I stopped and looked up into his eyes, resting my head against his chest. The even rhythm of his heart comforted me, and the soft black fabric of his t-shirt felt nice against my cheek.

  He cocooned me in his embrace, his strong arms holding me up.

  When I pulled away to stare up at him, his fingers brushed the stray hairs from my face. The solemnity of the moment was palpable.

  Sadness lingered behind his steely gaze, and I understood that he’d seen worse.

  “I worry about you, Sarah Shepard.” His voice sounded low and husky.

  “Why?” I whispered.

  “Because you’re going to find what you’re looking for and I hope that you’re ready it.”

  I narrowed my eyes in seriousness. “I am.”

  I couldn’t help myself, and my gaze fluttered between his eyes and his mouth several times. I debated kissing him, but when he began to lean down toward me…His head suddenly snapped up, and turned to the side.

  “We have to go. A Chronos recovery team is here, and I don’t want to have to explain our presence to them.”

  Damnit! He was right. I heard their echoing movements from where we’d entered.

  As I followed him out, my thoughts tumbled like rocks in a dryer.

  Oi! I’d wanted to kiss him. My body ached to kiss him.

  I craved and reveled in each little touch that had been thrown my way.

  But the logical part, the reasonable part of my mind told me to be cautious, strategic and wary.

  No one had ever moved me the way he did.

  My desires were winning, and it worried me.

  Chapter Nine

  Sitting on the runway, waiting for takeoff, I called Dr. Khatri.

  “Hey, is Emilie’s antibody count going up?”

  Her long hesitation worried me. “No, I’m afraid not. We waited overnight after she had been transfused, but the levels indicate that the antibodies are all still Dr. Bennett’s.” The plucking notes in her accented speech were agitated.

  I should be there, guilt niggled at me.

  “We’re going to inject some changed mice with Dr. Bennett’s blood product to see if they will begin making antibodies.” Another pause, “You should be here. I don’t know what kind of emergency you had, but this is important. Do one thing–come back.”

  Sighing, I spoke, “I know, I’m sorry. I’m following a lead that may break our research wide open, so bear with me.”

  “I,” her voice trailed off before starting again. “I trust you Sarah, but Dr. Peters will tell Aurev that you’re not here if they speak. I can’t stop that.”

  “Aurev, does anything happen that he doesn’t know about?” Exhaling a laugh, I tried to lighten the mood.

  “It’s just that I worry about you, Sarah. You know he has a bad side, and if this idea of yours doesn’t pan out, you may end up seeing that.”

  After a little more small talk, we hung up. Fatima had given me a lot to think about.

  Watching me out of the corner of his eye, Karsten had listened to my conversation.

  “What?” I asked him a little meanly.

  He leaned back in his chair, looking away. “She’s right. Mr. Vatia can be a cruel bastard if you get on his bad side. I’ve heard stories.”

  I pursed my lips and swallowed, Did Aurev have a bad side?

  “I think you’re all exaggerating. Once I get some answers, he won’t care what I did to get them.” However, after I said that, my bravado seemed to drain away leaving a lot of doubts in my mind.

  It worried me that my Viking said nothing after that. He’d been right about a lot, but was he right about this? Was it worth risking Aurev’s wrath?

  Shit!

  I was usually sure of myself, but now they had me second guessing everything.

  After several hours, our plane stopped for the second time to refuel.

  Watching out the window, I couldn’t tell where we’d stopped.

  “Where are we? Europe? Africa?”

  Karsten put his book down and ducked to gaze out the window. “This is Senegal.”

  “Hmm…” I said before laying down and going to sleep.

  When I woke, I set up my laptop and portable scanner and began to scan the documents I’d found in the cave.

  Old Persian? It just looked like ticks. This was a whole new ballgame for me. I needed to find someone to translate this, but it needed to stay in-house at Chronos.

  After sending out some email inquiries, I closed my computer and put my things away for landing.

  Never having been to Africa before, I looked out the window at the rolling city below.

  Johannesburg, South Africa lay below us.

  I expected it to look foreign or different, but it seemed like any other major metropolitan city. Sighing, I wished we had more time here. I’d always wanted to visit this place.

  The jet landed and taxied in toward an airplane hangar.

  There was a small SUV waiting for us nearby and turning to Karsten, I asked, “Where are these cars coming from? Are you arranging this?”

  When he raised his eyebrows and shook his head, I continued, “I think Aurev knows exactly what I’m doing and he’s having someone help us.”

  I let my Viking drive again. I’d never driven on the opposite side of the road and figured I’d start off as a
passenger.

  It was nighttime as we drove into a city neighborhood, where each house was surrounded with a tall fence and topped with several electric wires on top.

  He stopped the car in a shopping center parking structure, and we got out. “Where’s the house?”

  “We go on foot from here. Bring whatever you might need.”

  “How far away is the address?”

  “About seven miles.”

  Karsten was adorned in his tactical gear once again, including his sword.

  Eyeing me, he held out a gun.

  “What’s this for?” I asked. “I thought you said guns were useless.”

  “They’re a deterrent. I don’t know what we’ll encounter.”

  “I thought Johannesburg was safe.”

  He raised his eyebrows at me. “It’s as safe as the United States, but I’m not worried about humans.”

  I hefted the gun in my hand, it’s metal warm from being close to his body.

  “Well, I’m not going to shoot anyone.”

  “Let’s hope not.” He winked and began striding down the street. I followed along the sidewalk. As white people, we stood out like a sore thumb. Pedestrians and even those in cars gave us strange looks as they hurried up and down the streets at this late hour.

  Walking at a swift pace, I realized that the strange looks and sideways glances faded away. It made me wonder if my Viking could compel people at low levels so that we’d go unnoticed. I’d heard that some old Moroi could do it, but I’d never seen it.

  Suddenly, I smelled blood.

  My body stopped moving, and abruptly I started to follow the scent. Karsten grabbed my arm, but I shook him off and followed the trail straight inside a house.

  The back of my brain seemed to set off warning bells, but my hunger pushed them away.

  I heard him mutter, “Fuck!” As I kicked in the door and eyed my prey. All I saw was blood pouring from what looked like a stab wound. Several people surrounded my victim, but I paid them little regard. They cried out in astonishment when I pushed through them with arms like steel, unforgiving and uncaring.

  My fangs ran out, and I leaped on top of the man where he lay on the couch.

  The precious liquid pooled into my mouth and I gave myself up to my instincts. I didn’t care about the fingers and hands trying to pry me from my victim.

  I’d found ecstasy. It was like Christmas morning, or winning the lottery, everything good bound up together and served in this crimson magic called blood.

  The room had gone silent.

  I hadn’t counted.

  I hadn’t taken breaths.

  Pulling away, I slouched off my victim and onto the floor leaning against the couch where he lay.

  Slowly, coming out of my almost drug-induced state, I saw that either through enthralling or fighting, the crowd of people lay strewn around the room.

  “Let’s go,” Karsten ordered.

  I looked back at the young man I’d drunk from. “Shit!” His heart pumped a few times irregularly than stopped. I checked his bloody wound, he’d bled out. “I have to save him! Oh my God. I stopped. I stopped, and he’s going to die anyway.”

  But my Viking pulled me away. “He was going to die anyway from his wounds. We have to go.”

  As I was dragged from that house, I studied the young man lying on the couch, eyes open in death.

  I’d stopped, but it hadn’t mattered.

  After several blocks of being dragged by my muscle-bound babysitter, my stupor had worn off, and I tried to pry free. “I’m fine! I’m okay. You can let me go now.”

  He turned toward me still holding my arm and tilted my chin up with one hand. “Are you fine now?”

  “Yes.”

  He released his grip on me. “Do you feel better?”

  I tried to lower my gaze, but he still held my chin gently but firmly. “Yes.”

  “Okay, that’s why I let you feed. You did good, you stopped, but it wouldn’t have mattered. I could feel death coming off him. He would’ve died even if you’d not fed on him.”

  I blinked. “Why’d you curse when I went in?”

  He wore a strange expression. “Because the door was unlocked, you didn’t need to kick it in.”

  I laughed then, and he just shook his head. “I had to compel eight people! You know how draining that is when they’re worked up? Next time, knock, glamour one person at a time, then,” he motioned with his hand, “do your thing. But it was good practice, you went a little long, but you did stop yourself on your own. That’s progress.”

  A small smile passed my lips. “I did.”

  “Count the heartbeats to ten. Then stop. I want you to practice drinking bottled blood and count, then stop.” His eyes bore into mine. “You need to train your body to stop after counting to ten. Every time.”

  He held my arm firmly. “I’m serious. You need to stop at ten every time until you control it.”

  I nodded but still laughed as we began walking again.

  “Difficult woman!” He said with false anger.

  “Hey,” I grabbed his arm. “You said you liked a challenge.”

  Turning, so I was looking at his brown eye, the corner of his mouth quirked up. “Yeah.” He shook his head, “Min lille heks.”

  “What does that mean? You’ve said it before.”

  “It means ‘My little witch’.”

  I shook my head and smiled. “So, how did you feel death?”

  “You need to be more aware of the cycle of life all around you. Smell everything, not just the blood. Focus.”

  “What like yoga or meditation?”

  “Mmmm… kind of. Try opening your mind to the world, being alert, but relaxed.”

  “That doesn’t make sense.”

  He shrugged, and we continued on in silence. I tried to be more alert and relaxed at the same time, but I felt nothing.

  Chapter Ten

  The houses around us began to change as our feet kept up their monotonous rhythm. Large private schools lay atop grass-covered fields, and old mansions hulked on each side of us like sleeping giants, surrounded by thick masonry walls topped with electric wires.

  “We’re close,” he whispered.

  Inside a narrow, gated entrance was a worn-out manor that looked like it has seen better days.

  Karsten examined the ten-foot fence before crouching, then leaping to the top. Carefully navigating the eight charged wires, he landed with a thud on the opposite side.

  “Hey!” I whispered loudly. “I don’t think I can do what you just did.”

  “You can,” came his reply, “but I figured you wouldn’t want to, which is why I’m going to open the gate for you.”

  With a muted rattle of chains, he picked the lock and pushed one of the fence panels forward so that a gap formed. I squeezed through sideways examining the front yard.

  “Come on,” He motioned with a nod. “No one’s here, but there’s an alarm system. Let’s find the box, and I’ll disarm it.”

  “Where’d you learn to do that?” I pointed to the fence.

  He flashed me a cheeky grin before following the power lines and rounding the building. He found the box quickly, while I looked around the dark, overgrown garden.

  “It doesn’t look like anyone’s been here in a long time,” I spoke in hushed tones.

  “I know, but we’ve come all this way. Let’s have a look inside.”

  There was a side door that was locked, but my Viking knelt down and began to pick both the deadbolts.

  I was tempted to ask where he’d learned that as well, but settled on, “Will you teach me how to pick a lock sometime?”

  He grunted, and I took that as an affirmative.

  As he pushed the door inward on its hinges, the old metal groaned, and we entered the house.

  Inside, the furniture concealed with white sheets was covered in a thin layer of dust. It was clear no one had been here for a while.

  Cobwebs hung from the ceiling, and a few bug
s scurried along the walls.

  “The timing could be right.” His voice broke the eerie silence, and I flinched.

  “Timing of what?”

  “The disease. Maybe it was created here.”

  I nodded and kept walking and checking things out, pulling sheets down and coughing from the dust.

  My Viking went his own way, and I mine.

  I’d found a sitting room, a dining room, a library. Then, on the far side of the house, after turning the doorknob, I found it.

  A laboratory.

  I pulled the blue gown and mask from my bag and donned them. Finally, I pulled on a pair of latex gloves and eye protection.

  So far, Emilie was the only Moroi to survive the plague, and I did not want to try to be the next.

  I began pulling sheets off the equipment in the room slowly and carefully. The place had been cleaned up, and everything packed away.

  Although the equipment was dated, it had been state-of-the-art.

  My thoughts went to the girl from the cave. What was her relationship to that monster? Was she involved or innocent and caught up with a bad man?

  A humming noise began, drawing me to the far side of the room. The power was off inside the house, so what was this?

  My steps creaked on the floorboards, and when I pulled up the sheet, I found not a refrigerator, but a cryogenic tank.

  I rubbed the screen with my gloved hand, it read -196°C. Hesitating, unsure whether or not I should open it, I called out, “Karsten?”

  Caution had never been my forte, so I lifted the lid.

  As the fog cleared, I fully expected to find a few bagged heads and organs, but the space was dull and filled with normal samples like what I worked with back in my lab.

  A human would’ve had to use gloves or tongs to pick up one of the test tubes, but I could lift one out with my fingers and did so.

  “Virus 54, strain 3B.” I read aloud. Why don’t villains mark their research better? Like, Deadly Moroi virus, 4th attempt?

  “What did you find?” Sten’s voice came from the doorway, and I swung around after putting the sample back.

  “A cryotank. The contents need to be shipped back to Chronos, frozen. Does your phone work here? Can I use it?”