Tears of No Return

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Tears of No Return Page 21

by David Bernstein


  She made the cup of tea, sat on the sofa, and sipped without realizing what she was doing. The hot beverage lasted in her cup only a few minutes, Karen finishing it way too quickly.

  Two hours later, she knew something was wrong. As she reached for her phone, it began to ring.

  “Heard anything?” she asked.

  “No, was hoping you did. He’s still not home?”

  “No.”

  “I dozed off in my car or I would’ve called you sooner. The only reason I woke up was because my work cell rang. They want me to come in right away.”

  Karen’s chest began to ache, as though something heavy were pressing against her sternum. “Do you have any idea why?”

  “I’ve been called in to work early before. It could be a number of reasons—trouble with equipment or one of the other team members out sick.”

  “So you don’t think it has anything to do with Morgan?”

  “No, no.”

  “Okay, you’d better go then.”

  “I’ll talk to you tomorrow. And Karen…”

  “Yeah?”

  “Don’t worry about him. You know how he is. I’m sure he’ll walk through the door any second.”

  “Thanks, Paul.”

  “No problem. Bye.” He hung up.

  Karen had never felt so alone. She stared at the phone in her hands, her mind traveling to a very dark place. If something happened to Morgan, if he was hurt or worse…

  She stood up, unwilling to allow herself to think like that. It was pointless and unfair to Morgan. He deserved better. He was, after all, Morgan Hughes. A smile crept onto Karen’s face. He was fine. He had to be.

  Morgan had survived hundreds of years. Maybe the car had broken down, and right now as she pondered everything, he was running back to her. She made another cup of tea, sat on the couch, and waited.

  Karen received a text message. The familiar chime was an overwhelming relief, bringing with it a feeling of anticipation.

  Opening the phone, beyond eager to read Morgan’s message, she frowned. The message wasn’t from Morgan, but from Paul. The feeling of hope that had exploded from her heart was gone; her body suddenly feeling as if it tripled in weight. With her thumb on the OK button, Karen pressed down. The screen changed, revealing the written words.

  They have Morgan. Stay there until you hear from me.

  Karen sagged back into the sofa. She felt dizzy, the world around her fading until darkness embraced her and she fell unconscious.

  Chapter 47

  Morgan woke from the fog. He tried moving his arms and legs, but found himself pinned down by reinforced steel. The feeling was familiar, but the memory was distant. He opened his eyes.

  “Ah, welcome back, Mr. Hughes,” a man’s voice said. “Thought maybe we’d pumped too much tranquilizer into you and you’d be asleep for days.”

  Looking around the room, Morgan understood where he was. Everything he saw was new, undated, but relatively the same. He’d been in a room like this before. Men stood to either side of him, one of The Murphy Unit’s prized possessions back where it belonged. His eyes stopped on a familiar face, Paul’s. Quickly, he took his glare from the man and resumed scanning the room.

  “This is a special night, gentlemen,” the voice said. The person speaking was out of Morgan’s view, behind him. He didn’t recognize the speaker, but knew the tone just the same. It was a voice filled with assuredness, leadership, and authority. Footsteps clacked loudly against the tiled floor as the figure walked to Morgan and his face came into view.

  The man had short cropped platinum hair and was clean shaven. His eyes were blue but cold, lacking any mercy.

  “This, gentlemen, is the famous—or should I say infamous—Morgan Hughes.”

  Voices ping-ponged, some of the men clearly impressed.

  Morgan grimaced, straining against his bonds, hoping to break free and kill the bastard, but the steel restraints held firm.

  “Typical,” the man said, moving closer. “It’s been years since anyone from this organization has laid eyes upon you, let alone known your whereabouts. But that’s neither here nor there now. We have you back and I will finish what my predecessors started. No,” he quickly added, holding up a finger. “Improve what they started.”

  “And who the hell are you?” Morgan asked.

  This brought a grin to the man’s face. “My name is General Krueger. I am in charge of this facility. The previous head is occupied with other duties.”

  Morgan was taken aback, almost disappointed. Paul had told him such, that Commander Keegan was no longer in charge, but now it was confirmed by his own ears.

  “So I did you a favor when I destroyed the old place?” Morgan said. “Helped promote your ass.”

  “Indeed.”

  “Don’t get too high on your own fumes because when I get out of here I plan to do the same to you. Nice touch with the music earlier,” Morgan said.

  Krueger said, “I couldn’t have you running away again. You’re not a very smart man, are you? You just couldn’t stay away.”

  “I like to finish what I start.”

  “You destroyed everything. All data relevant to yourself as well as so many other projects. But that was a long time ago. We’re better prepared now and not as foolish and careless as we were in the past.”

  “Like I said, don’t get too comfortable. I plan on bringing this place to its knees.”

  “Very confident for a thing in your position, aren’t you?” Krueger asked, picking up a steel mallet. “You see, Morgan, I’m not a man to fuck with. And I’m not like my predecessor. No, I’ve evolved. I have gone to extreme lengths to make sure this facility is secure and well-run. I only take on the best employees, as provided by the U.S. military.

  “When one of my guards spotted a life form on the infrared camera, he brought it to my attention. It could’ve been a deer or a camera malfunction. Other cameras, when panned to that particular area, showed the same image. It wasn’t a camera error. It wasn’t so much that a life form appeared on the infrared, no. It was the fact that it had no heat signature and hadn’t moved in hours. Maybe it was a zombie or a ghost?—they can remain motionless for long periods of time. But no, for they haven’t got the discipline. I knew it couldn’t be a vampire because they fry up like pieces of bacon in the sunlight. Then it hit me. I couldn’t believe it at first. Could it be the one who had escaped us so many years ago? Come back to finish The Murphy Unit? I wasn’t one hundred percent sure of course, with all the abominations running around free in the world these days, but I thought we ought to find out.”

  “Go to hell, you sick fuck,” Morgan spat.

  Krueger grabbed Morgan around his throat.

  “But what I don’t understand, not for certain, is why you came back here. Or how you found us.”

  “That was easy,” Morgan said, laughing. “I just followed the smell, you arrogant asshole.”

  Krueger shoved himself away from the slab, then swung the mallet downward onto Morgan’s arm, where forearm met bicep. The sound of crunching bone echoed throughout the room. Morgan clenched his teeth, refusing to yell out. The general smiled, raised the mallet up high, and smashed it down on Morgan’s left kneecap. This time, the pain was too intense for Morgan to hold back a cry.

  General Krueger placed the mallet down on a tray next to the table. “I’m done here for now. Bring in Mr. Kubek. Tell the man to break every bone in Mr. Hughes’ body. But make sure to inject him with vampire blood first; I want to ensure that our guest is in top condition. Continue the process until he talks. I want to know why he’s here and how he found us.”

  “Sir,” one of the scientists said, stepping forward. Morgan turned his head. It was Paul. “We need to begin testing this specimen. This is an incredible find. We shouldn’t be wasting our time with torture. The simple fact is: he’s here and he’s ours.”

  “Finding out why Mr. Hughes decided to show up, especially after all these years, is essential. When Mr. Kube
k is finished with his persuasion techniques, then you and your team of scientists may use him as you will.”

  “Sir—” Paul began, but Krueger cut him short.

  “My decision is final.”

  With that, the General left the room.

  “I will wait with the subject, getting the blood supply ready,” Paul told the other scientists before they ushered themselves out of the room.

  “Paul,” Morgan said, softly. “Get me out of here.”

  Not looking at Morgan, Paul said, “I can’t. There are cameras in here. I’ll come up with something, just give me some time.”

  Morgan closed his eyes, resigned to what was to come. He could have Paul release him, fight his way out, but that would severely compromise the bigger plan.

  “I’ve been through this before,” he said. “It’s just going to hurt a lot for a while.” He wanted to mention Karen’s name, tell Paul to let her know what has happened. But it was too dangerous. He hoped Paul would tell Karen what was going on anyway.

  “I’ll see what I can do about getting you out of here, but for now my hands are tied.” Paul held a vial of vampire blood. “Open up and drink this. It’s all that’s going to keep you alive, I fear.”

  Morgan opened his mouth and drank the fluid. The taste was delicious, revitalizing his body and spirit. Two things went through his mind: one, the general wanted Morgan alive, hence the vampire blood; and two, having been given the vampire blood, Morgan knew he was in for a world of hurt.

  ***

  A tall, skinny man wearing thick-rimmed glasses entered the room. His skin was chalk-white, and, like Krueger, he gazed at Morgan through dead eyes.

  “Good evening,” he said, pulling up a stool to Morgan’s bedside. “My name is Kubek. I’m going to get right to it, then. And I’ll be fair, giving you a chance to answer my questions without persuasive measures. Why are you here?” The man spoke evenly, like a recording.

  “I was looking for a job and figured I’d need a referral from my last place of work.”

  Kubek opened a metal attaché case and produced a crochet-like needle from it. Standing, the man held the thick needle, point down, to Morgan’s leg just above the knee. With his other hand he removed a stainless steel hammer and pounded the needle into Morgan’s leg, not stopping until the tip hit the table underneath.

  The pain was immense, as Morgan knew it would be. And he knew this was just the beginning. The only thing making the situation not all that terrible was the fact that there was no garlic on the instrument. He was at least glad for that.

  “Why are you here?” the man asked again.

  “Go screw your sister,” Morgan spat. A childish comment, yes, but he didn’t care.

  “I do not have a sister and I can see that we need to skip a few steps.”

  Morgan didn’t like the sound of the man’s words. Kubek took out more needles and before Morgan knew it, the man had begun hammering them into his flesh, from chest to feet. After a time, twenty-five long steel needles protruded from Morgan’s body, which had become a bloody mess, before he eventually fell into blackness.

  Chapter 48

  Karen awoke a short time after passing out. Her mind still swirled with panic, leaving her shaky and disoriented. It took her a few moments of forced, slow breathing to steady herself enough to think clearly.

  Morgan was captured, maybe even dead. It took all of her will-power not to call Paul back. She had to know what the hell was going on.

  The next couple of hours were the worst Karen had ever known. Finally, her phone rang. She saw that it was Paul.

  “Karen, we need to meet,” he said.

  “I don’t have a car.”

  “Meet me at the diner on Maple Street. I’ll be there in about thirty minutes.”

  “Wait, Paul,” Karen said. “Is he—”

  “He’s alive. I’ll meet you in thirty,” he said and hung up.

  ***

  She waited outside the eatery, near the sidewalk, before realizing she might be making a terrible mistake. What if Paul was coerced into calling her, forced at gun point? What if the Murphy people had gotten information out of him, or worse, out of Morgan?

  She quickly headed down the block and away from where she said she’d meet Paul and entered a carpet store. From there, she would be able to see his car and verify whether or not he was alone.

  Twenty minutes of nervous waiting later, she spotted Paul’s car pulling into the diner’s parking lot. To her relief, he was alone or at least appeared to be. Hadn’t she, on more than one occasion, lain across the backseat, out of view?

  She waited for him to exit the vehicle, but he remained inside. Her phone rang, startling her.

  “Yes?” she asked.

  “Karen,” Paul said. “Where are you?”

  “Are you alone?”

  “What?”

  “Are you alone? Did anyone follow you?”

  “No, no. I’m alone, now get over here.” He hung up.

  Karen walked to Paul’s car. She glanced into the backseat, making sure no one was hiding there, then opened the door and climbed in.

  “Paranoid?” he asked.

  “Let’s just get out of here.”

  They drove to the warehouse.

  “What happened? she asked, her voice almost cracking. “Is he hurt? What did they do to him?”

  “It’s bad, but I talked to him and we came up with a plan to get him out.”

  “What’s the plan? How do we get him out of there?”

  “Try to stay calm. They’re not going to kill him; not yet anyway. He’s too valuable a specimen. With Morgan being the only creature of his kind, they need to keep him alive.”

  “Why don’t they just call in the priest who changed him? They could have an army of non-vampire vampires.”

  “From what I know, the priest, nor anyone from his order, can be found. It’s feared they were either wiped out or went into hiding.”

  Karen’s eyes narrowed. “I’m not going to let them dissect my friend,” she said angrily. “I don’t care if he’s been through it before. I’ll walk in there and fry all their minds, turn the place into one giant microwave.”

  “I like your attitude,” Paul said, “but we need to stick to the plan. As powerful as you’ve become, you can’t take on the entire facility.” Paul chuckled. “At least not yet.”

  “What do you mean?”

  The man shook his head. “Damn. I let my ego rule me sometimes. Pretend I said nothing. We need to—”

  “Paul?”

  The man sighed. “I’ve been working on something… Something that might help amp up your abilities. A ‘just in case’ button, if you will. But it’s not ready. Not by a long shot. It hasn’t been tested and quite frankly I hope we’ll never need to use it. For now, you need to worry about tomorrow night.”

  “I know what’s at stake. It haunts me every second of every day.” She stared off into the distance, letting her fury subside. After a minute of silence, she looked at Paul. “So are you going to tell me about the plan to free Morgan or do I have to pick your brain?”

  “I’ll let you know the gist of it, but since you’re not going to be involved, and we are going through with the first step of taking down The Murphy Unit tomorrow, we better concentrate on that.”

  Chapter 49

  The next day, after a restless and agonizing night, Karen received a text message from Paul. He’d managed to find out where some of the guards were going for their night out: a tavern called McKinley’s. With Paul’s work schedule so unpredictable now, he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to pick Karen up. She might have to find her own way there by taxi or bus.

  With all the craziness going on, the only good news Karen had heard since Morgan’s capture was with the spaceship situation. The Murphy Unit’s prime objective was still the craft, but following Morgan’s capture they no longer concentrated one hundred percent of their resources on the goal.

  At six p.m., Karen walked to the di
ner. Paul sent her a text message, informing her that he would be able to pick her up and was in fact on his way. Karen sent him a reply, telling him that she was at the diner and to meet her there. Eating became much easier, the food going down smoothly, after hearing that Paul would soon join her.

  Ten minutes after he picked Karen up, they arrived at the bar where the soldiers were. Opting not to use the parking lot, Paul parked the car a little ways down the street and out of view from McKinley’s.

  The bar was cedar-sided, a popular choice during the late ’70s and early ’80s. Two small cottage windows with illuminated neon signs advertised brands of beer. Above the entranceway, written in sun-faded and weather-beaten green and white script, was the name McKinley’s. A few motorcycles and cars were parked out front.

  “You brought the wig and clothes?” Karen asked.

  “Bag’s in the back seat,” Paul said, motioning unnecessarily over his shoulder. “So, we’re all good on what’s happening?”

  “Yes,” Karen said, “you get them good and drunk, text me, and then I come in.”

  Paul smiled. “Simple enough.”

  “Let’s hope so.”

  “See you in a bit,” he said on his way out of the car.

  Looking totally out of place in his white button down work shirt and tan slacks, Paul walked across the street and down the sidewalk, then disappeared into the bar’s parking lot.

  Karen maneuvered into the backseat and quickly grew tired while waiting for Pauls’ text, which arrived two hours later. She put on the blonde wig and changed into the clothes Paul had purchased for her: a short black mini-skirt, red heels, fishnet stockings, and a low cut top that revealed plenty of midriff. Karen had never felt so vulnerable in her life. How the hell was she supposed to pull off wearing such an outfit? She had a good figure and was pretty, but she’d never worn anything so slutty. She felt like a cheap whore, then remembered that was the part she was supposed to play this night.

 

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