The Blood Keepers: A Helia Crane Supernatural Thriller (The Salem Penitentiary Book 1)

by L. A. Cruz

  “All of you, return to your cells!” Sergeant Erickson bellowed. “Right now!”

  He fumbled with his radio. Despite the hairy arm on her ear, Helia could hear a burst of static across the room.

  “We have a hostage situation in the day room,” Sergeant Erickson said, breathless. “Lockdown immediately.”

  Helia struggled in Makab’s arms. She could barely breathe, could feel herself getting lightheaded already, the oxygen cut off. She tried not to panic and remembered her training. He was much stronger than she was and it would be futile to grab his forearm and try to pry him off. Instead, the best way to disarm him was to go for an unprotected area.

  She dropped her fist and swung it back, trying to hit his groin. But she missed and hit him in the center of the thigh instead. Makab barely grunted, no more than if he had been stung by an annoying little horsefly.

  Two steps later, they had backed into the cell. She heard Sergeant Erickson scream into his radio “Lockdown!” one more time and then Fanning slipped into the cell just as the door closed and the deadbolt slammed into place.

  They were in lockdown. Which meant that Helia was now locked inside the cell with the two men. Makab didn't let up and Helia wheezed, her face turning blue. She was suddenly sleepy, on the verge of passing out, losing feeling in her toes.

  Fanning took a step toward her, adjusted his glasses, and tapped on Makab’s arm. Makab let up and Helia stood on her own two feet, wobbly, and gasped and sucked air through her teeth.

  “I’m so sorry we had to do this to you on your first day," Fanning said. “But you were a good mark. We waited three years to get a new guard, so I'm sure you can understand that it's nothing personal, nor is it an indictment of your relative lack of experience, although that didn’t hurt our cause. I don't think that when your superiors review the case, if there's anything left to review of course, that they'll find fault with any of your actions. If you want that to happen, you’ll need to make it out of here alive, which quite frankly, depends on how much you’re willing to cooperate with us.“

  Behind her, Makab grunted.

  “For such a smart guy, he usually only communicates in grunts," Fanning said. “Ain't that right, big guy?“

  Makab grunted again.

  “You would think that he might have a larger vocabulary. But outside of scientific jargon, molecules and polypeptides and mitochondria and shit like that, he’s really quite illiterate.”

  Helia rubbed her sore neck. “What do you want, inmate? Any minute those MP’s are gonna burst through that door and make you eat concrete.”

  “Inmate, huh? It seems to me that the boot is on the other foot now. We are the ones in charge.”

  “You’ll never be in charge.”

  “Stop the tough talk,” Fanning said and fluffed out his hair. “If you had come to me and proposed something reasonable, maybe showed me some concern about the hormone treatments for which I’ve been begging the infirmary for the last two years, we might’ve chosen a different path here, maybe waited for a different mark. But instead, you chose to hassle me about the paper die.”

  “I had no idea,” Helia said. “I’m new here. Remember? How was I supposed to know?”

  “Really? No idea?” Fanning said. “That’s disappointing. I was hoping maybe you could sense it. Women’s intuition and all. I’m assuming you’re at least somewhat familiar with the military’s policies regarding hormone therapy.”

  “Not the particulars,” Helia said.

  Fanning took off his glasses and pursed his lips and checked his cheeks in their reflection. Now that he should mention it, Helia realized his cheeks were a bit rosier than normal, but not in a flattering way.

  “You might want to try some concealer first.”

  “I’m new to this, okay?” Fanning said. “Cut me some slack. Makab here isn’t exactly the best consultant for my shade of blush.”

  Helia made her fingers speak like she was wearing a sock puppet. “Blah, blah, cut to the chase. What do you want with me?”

  “Oh, a snarky one, I see,” Fanning said. “I like that.” He snatched the radio from her belt and turned the channel dial.

  Voices emerged from the static:

  ”They're in cell 28. Lockdown. Corporal Crane has been taken hostage.”

  Fanning grabbed a T-shirt off the metal shelf over the toilet, unfurled it like a flag, and hung it from the tiny plastic hook over the door window, cutting off Helia’s view of the day room. The last thing she saw was guards rushing in and forming a semicircle around the door.

  “And there’s the cavalry,” Fanning said.

  He must have known that taking her hostage would trigger a lockdown, she thought. The only way to unlock the doors was from central command and without their permission, it would take a tank to get through those doors.

  She was trapped.

  The radio crackled. “Corporal Crane? Do you read me? Over.”

  Fanning held up the radio. “Tell them not to unlock the door. If they rush in here and storm this cell, then everyone will die. You, me, Makab. All of us.”

  “This is a losing situation,” Helia said. “You’re outnumbered and surrounded. There is no way you will make it out of here alive.”

  Fanning adjusted his glasses. “What makes you think we plan to make it out of here alive?”

  Helia swallowed hard. She could try to fight them. Kick Fanning in the crotch and rush Makab, but it was unlikely she could overpower the two of them at once.

  Fanning pinched the neck of his shirt and fluttered it to give his neck a bit more air. Makab sat down on the bunk. He looked a little green.

  “If you didn’t know, Major Makab here was a brilliant chemical scientist. This morning in sheet metal shop, he got his hands on a bottle of turpentine. Under his workstation desk he had stashed a bunch of cleaning products. And then at lunch, he tossed in a few cookies and mixed the whole solution with a little bit of gravy. Ain't that right, Major? Tell the Corporal what is brewing inside your body at this very moment.”

  Makab lurched and a burp came up. The fumes hit Helia’s nostrils and they burned and produced an instant headache.

  “Major Makab here has turned his own body into a biological weapon. As you can see, he’s turning an ugly shade of green. He coated his stomach lining by downing a bunch of acid and he need only survive long enough to help me out of this mess. But if Major Makab gets shot and goes down, the gases that are fermenting in his gut will kill everyone within a fifteen-foot radius. He has become the ultimate chemical weapon.”

  Helia closed her eyes and tried to breathe out more than in. There was no way that was true. It couldn’t be real. But then again, even the New York Times had called him “a brilliant scientist” and said that “it was a shame to lose such an intelligent mind to treason.” After all, what did Helia know about chemistry or biology? She had left to go to the nurse when they dissected frogs in the tenth grade.

  “You were still in grade school when we started hatching this plan. You underestimate what can be done when you have all the time in the world, a library, and access to as many cookies as you can eat,” Fanning said and held the radio up to Helia’s mouth. “So, the question is, are you a gambling woman? Tell your superiors to get a vehicle ready for us at the front entrance. We want a black SUV. In a storage container, I want them to include two bulletproof vests, two pairs of handcuffs, and two flashlights. Understood?”

  Helia nodded. She had done enough hostage situations in training to know to play along, at least initially.

  Fanning pressed the button and the radio crackled.

  ”This is Corporal Crane.”

  "What is the situation, Corporal? Over.”

  She couldn’t be certain, but she thought she might have heard a slight echo, as if the man on the other end of the radio was standing right outside the door.

  “I’m okay,” Helia said. “The inmates have asked for a vehicle, a pair of handcuffs, two bulletproof vests…”


  “And two flashlights,” Fanning said.

  “Right. And two flashlights. If they don't get them, they will detonate a gas bomb. They may use it to kill—“

  “Correction. Will use it to kill,” Fanning said.

  “They say they will kill us,” Helia added. “I think it's best we listen to them.”

  Fanning pulled the radio away from her lips and set it on the bunk. “Good girl. In a couple of minutes, I'm going to ask them to part the sea outside that door so that we can head for the entrance. Hopefully it won’t become a red sea,” he said and stepped toward her. “In the meantime," he added and slipped a thumb beneath the latch on her belt, popped it open, and then grabbed the buckle and yanked the belt out from around her waist, “I need to borrow your trousers.”

  Her loose pants sagged off her hips.

  “They don't make these things for hips do they?” Fanning said. Then he yanked her pants down to her ankles.

  CHAPTER 4

  Goosebumps ran down Helia’s legs. They kept the cells at an even 72 degrees—the most efficient temperature for all seasons—but it felt much colder now.

  Fanning was staring at her naked thighs. A large boa constrictor was coiled around her left thigh, all the way up to the crest of her hipbone, as if it were squeezing her quadriceps to death, the perfect camouflage for the spider veins that would appear later if she grew up to be anything like her mother.

  “Nice ink,” Fanning said.

  “It’s supposed to intimidate asshats like you.”

  “Don't flatter yourself,” Fanning said. His eyes lingered on her underwear. “I’ve got a snake of my own. For the time being, at least. But I would like to know where you got those panties. I really like the little frilly edges. It’s like your secret sexiness. Very fierce. No one knows, about them but you, am I right? A way to maintain your femininity in this über-masculine place?”

  “No,” Helia said. “They were on sale.”

  Fanning laughed. “Stop staring, Major.”

  Makab averted his eyes. Fanning grabbed her wrist and turned her around. In lieu of handcuffs, he used her belt to secure her wrist behind her back. Then he turned her back around and crouched, his face just inches from the fangs of the boa constrictor on her thigh.

  “Raise your right foot.”

  She did. The pants were still around her ankles and it was hard to balance. He untucked the trousers from the top of her boot and pulled the trousers off. She stood there on one leg, fairly steady given the circumstances.

  “Other leg,” he said and wrestled them off too. Then he used her trousers to tie her legs together, one knot, two knots, three knots. Her legs were so close together, her kneecaps touched.

  “Why don't you sit for a moment,” Fanning said.

  Helia looked over at the bunk, the mattress no thicker than a wrestling mat. She didn’t want ringworm. Besides, that mat would be pretty cold on her bare skin.

  “No thanks. I’m good.”

  “Suit yourself.”

  The corners of Makab’s lips bubbled and a long string of drool ran down to his chest and darkened his collar.

  “Ironically, he’s the brains of the operation," Fanning said. He took Makab by the wrist. “C’mon. On your feet, big guy.” All the sinews in Fanning's skinny arms went taught as a rubber band as he pulled him to his feet. “You can do it big man.”

  Standing there in her combat green shirt, proudly wearing the black armband of the military police but no pants, Helia felt like she was participating in some kind of bizarre porno.

  “What now?” she said. “You boys wanna take off your pants and join me?

  “We’ll pass,” Fanning said and shoved the radio in her face. “Tell them were coming out.”

  “Of the closet? The Major too?”

  “Very clever,” Fanning said. “Do it now or I punch him in the gut and he vomits acid all over your pretty little uniform.”

  Helia narrowed her eyes and leaned into the radio. “We’re coming out.”

  “Tell them to leave at least fifteen feet of room around us at all times. Remember, if the Major takes a bullet in the chest, then all those gases escape. Given the ventilation system in this prison, I don't think it's unreasonable to assume that every single soldier in this compound will get a very, very bad headache.”

  Helia’s lips were touching the radio. “Back away from the door.”

  Fanning yanked the T-shirt off the door, giving Helia a second glimpse of what was happening in the day room. A semicircle of guards in riot gear was surrounding the door. All of them had their rifles trained on the window. As there were no guns permitted inside the compound, they had already brought in the reinforcements.

  Makab burped again and Fanning winced. “Looks like it's time to go,” he said. He bent down and wiggled the makeshift trouser-cuffs up to Helia's knees so that she could take little tiny baby steps.”

  “Okay, Major you’re in back, I'm in front," Fanning said.

  Makab planted a hand on both knees and labored to stand. Another long string of drool rappelled from his lips down to the floor.

  “You can do it, big guy. Fifteen minutes is all we need. You need to last fifteen minutes. That's all."

  Makab nodded, covering his mouth from another burp.

  “Okay,” Fanning said. “We're ready. Tell them to open the door.”

  Helia leaned into the radio. “Open the door.”

  “Open the door” echoed on the other side of the door as the message traveled through all the walkies. There was a moment’s lag and then the deadbolt slid back with a firm donk.

  Fanning took position in front and the three of them, Helia sandwiched between Fanning and Makab, approached the door. Their steps were baby-steps as they stayed right up against each other and tried to coordinate their movements, the whole endeavor as awkward as a sack race.

  Fanning opened the door and they stepped into the day room. The first thing Helia saw was fifteen muzzles pointed at her face.

  The Major whom Helia had met earlier—Major Detores—stood outside the semicircle of guards.

  "Your van is waiting outside the gate, Mr. Fanning.“

  “It’s Ms. Fanning now.”

  “My apologies. Ms. Fanning.”

  “Tell them to bring it up to the lobby,” Fanning said.

  Major Detores thumbed his radio. “We need that van at the front doors, over.”

  “Roger that.”

  Fanning and Helia and Makab—in that order—shuffled to the right. The semicircle of guards shifted to maintain the same fifteen-foot radius. The semicircle broke away from the wall and then swallowed them in a circle as they walked toward the exit door.

  All eyes were on Helia. She couldn't help but feel them crawling up her legs and stopping on the little lacy parts of her underwear, the parts that she had once thought were cute. It was grandma panties from here on out.

  The giant circle kept moving toward the door.

  “Remember, if my man goes down, if one of us gets hit, it’s all over,” Fanning said. “It’s lights out for all of us. You have no idea what that man is capable of creating with a few household cleaning products.”

  “We hear you loud and clear,” Major Detores said.

  Sandwiched between them, Helia could barely step farther than the length of her toes. It was worse than being in heels. But worse than that, she was constantly brushing up against Makab’s crotch. He was getting harder than a boy at a junior high school dance.

  Fanning pointed at the door to the main hallway. ”Open that damn door. Why is that door not open yet?”

  Sergeant Erickson was the first to break from formation and go to the door. He slid his key card through the slot on the wall and the day room door unlocked.

  “Now I know you boys aren't going to like it," Fanning said. "But we have to split up now. We’ll take good care of your woman here.”

  The whole circle of men broke open so the party of three could move through the door. As she pas
sed through the door frame, Helia glanced up at the cameras—one in the left-hand corner, and one in the right-hand corner—and wondered if the boys in the control room had gotten a good enough look. She tried not to think about the news media getting ahold of the tape, about her underwear splashed all over the internet.

  It was one hell of a first day.

  CHAPTER 5

  The party of three shuffled down the clean, white hallway. Behind them, the guards filed into the hallway and kept their fifteen-foot distance. In every reflection, Helia could see the rifles pointed. Usually, she tried to stand out so her superiors would take notice, but this was not what she had in mind.

  Behind them, a radio crackled. Helia recognized Major Detores’s booming voice: “Open the sally port door.”

  There was a buzz at the door in front of them. Then a loud click unlocked the deadbolt. Fanning opened the door and the three of them shuffled into the entrance room.

  Ahead, was the main door. They passed the soldier sitting at the podium. He was standing now, his hands over his head. This would probably be a story for the grand kids: let me tell you kiddos about the one time I had to get off my ass.

  “Smart move, Private,” Fanning said. “Someone taught you how to be a good little soldier.”

  Through the glass doors ahead, Helia could see a black SUV waiting for them. The tailpipe was vibrating as it idled. One of the MPs exited the vehicle and stepped back, counting fifteen paces, and disappeared behind the door frame. In the corner towers, the guards had their rifles pointed. Beyond the concertina wire, in the sky between the razor loops, two black dots were getting larger. Birds? Probably not. Helicopters.

  “There’s gonna be a whole flock on your tail,” Helia said. “A whole caravan. You’ll get the presidential treatment. You won’t get far.”

  “We’ll see,” Fanning said. He glanced at the soldier standing at the podium. “Lower your hands. Keep them where I can see them, but tell your boys to stay back in the hallway.”

  The soldier nodded and thumbed his radio. “They said to stay back.”