by Jamie Ott
Chapter 3
She landed on a grass field, before a clean and narrow street. Across from where she stood was a row of cement buildings, with thick bullet proof glass panes that went on for a couple of miles.
Starr scanned their insides, trying to see if anyone were in them. At the furthest end to her left, she heard a discussion taking place.
Looking in, she saw a dim lit room where a dozen men in suits sat at a table discussing. Some of the Fleet members were there, listening.
The Fleet was an organization of enforcers, put together by Credenza to make vampires oblige human law, and, when they didn’t, see to their extermination.
She walked the mile or so to the furthest end of the drive. When she approached the large glass door, she leaned her head against the glass and looked in.
Inside, there was an empty check-in counter and a door right behind it; to her left, a set of doors; to her right, two elevators.
She pressed the bar of the door and found that it was locked. Gently, she applied more pressure, but it didn’t respond.
Annoyed, Starr looked down at the metal panel with the green flashing light, below the bar. Using her mind, she looked inside the metal and focused her kinesis on burning out the wired board inside.
After a moment, it hissed and sparked, and the light went out, but the door still wouldn’t open.
She stood back and braced herself, and then, using all her strength, she kicked in the door, breaking the bullet proof glass into several parts, sending a large chunk of it flying back, and tripping an alarm.
Lights blinded her eyes with flashing red and white as a most annoying siren raided her ears, making her recoil.
Although her ears and eyes had increased in strength, it seemed they had become more sensitive, too.
Pressing her hands onto the sides of her head, she forced open her eyes and saw two military men with rifles come from a door behind the desk.
They came at her, shouting for her to get on the ground. Starr knew she should have complied, but didn’t like the guys waiving guns in her face, and trying to be tough with her.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m here to see the Black Fleet, from the Council.”
“I’ll shoot you, Miss,” said the man to her right.
Quickly, Starr grabbed his gun and broke it in half, and then threw it on the ground.
The man next to him shot, but Starr’s reflexes really had grown, for she saw the bullet come at her, out of the corner of her eye.
She moved her head to the side, grabbed the gun by the barrel, and pushed it back, whacking him in the face with the butt.
The man fell flat onto the ground.
Starr heard the footfalls of other soldiers, coming from behind the door.
Quickly, she went through one of the doors to her left, and found herself in a stairwell. She followed the scent of the Fleet members up to the seventh floor.
Once she exited the stairwell, another alarm went off.
Starr ignored it and continued right, down the hall, turned the corner, and found herself facing the remaining members of the Fleet: Chanler, Alin, Sari, James, Emil and, their pilot, Saul.
With them were about a dozen men in suits.
“Nice job,” said Alin sarcastically. “You could have just knocked.”
Men flooded the floor from the elevators and the stairwell.
“It’s okay,” said Chanler. “This is Starr; the one we were telling you about. She can help us.”
The military men looked at the men in suits who nodded to them, indicating that they could leave.
The Fleet members looked her up and down, taking in her appearance.
They walked up to her.
“What, in the hell, happened to you?” asked Emil, with a little smile in his eyes.
“I was in a fire.”
“So you just came straight here?” asked Alin.
“No, Alin, it’s a long story. I don’t want to get into details right now.”
“What have you been doing?” he asked more accusingly.
Alin was always a sharp tongued serpent with a cut throat attitude.
“What do you mean?” she said, knowing that he was onto her.
“You seem different.”
She said nothing.
“Why are you in your pajamas?” asked Chanler.
“Hello? Did I not say that I was in a fire? The cabin burned down!”
“Isn’t there something we can do, Bob?” he turned and asked a man in a white shirt and tie.
“There are spare clothes, downstairs, in the military supplies room.”
“I’ll take you,” said Alin. “They won’t know you, and we need to talk.”
He motioned that she follow him. They walked back to the stairwell, and he held the door open for her to enter.
“How did the cabin catch fire?”
“Uh… well, remember Bielz?” she asked as she looked down the stairwell.
“Yeah.”
“Well, she kind of had it in for me. I killed a friend of hers; he had a habit of vamping out.”
“His name was Antony; I heard about him.”
“Yeah, well, Bielz was angry about it and set the cabin on fire to get back at me.”
“Where are the kids? Are they okay?”
“I don’t know,” she said, looking down as they stepped. “I got them out of the house, alright, but then Bielz was still there. She refused to leave, though I tried to talk her out of it. It’s almost as if she wanted to die, and I don’t understand why; things weren’t that bad for her. I wanted to save her, and I could have, but then the landing collapsed, reinjuring my neck and I couldn’t move.”
“Who did it?”
“I told you, Bielz did it.”
“Not who set the fire, but who healed you? You’re prancing about as though you’ve never had your head cut off, which is an injury that you should still be recovering from. I know someone healed you, and that is a big deal. Who was it?” he asked, turning his face toward her.
She was sure that Alin was trustworthy, but Starr couldn’t help but feel that, at the moment, she should keep her mouth shut.
As they reached the last step, she said, as she looked back at him, “Look, Alin, I don’t want to be rude but, for the moment, I think I’d rather not talk about what happened to me.”
“Starr, there is a reason that I asked. When you’re healed by another of our kind, you become bound to that person by a supernatural rope, if you will, bound by blood forever.”
“What does that mean?” she asked in a small voice.
“It means that you can see into each other’s minds, and when one of you hurts, or is in danger, you can sense the other’s urgency; you can even sense happiness at times. The person who heals you will always be able to find you, and you, them. Like following a trail ablaze, your blood will stand out against the world to that person.”
As he spoke these words, her forehead became extremely warm; suddenly, it felt like an invisible rope were around her neck, and getting tighter and tighter.
Alin walked through the door, and held it open for her.
Credenza healed her on purpose, and she knew it had nothing to do with wanting to save her. It was her way of keeping tabs on her.
He led her into a dark grey hall, to a door with a broken padlock. Next to the door was a desk, behind which sat a soldier.
Alin nodded to the man, and they walked past him, through the door. Inside was a large closet, in which there were guns and ammo, and other gear in the front.
Further to the back, there were military clothes, with the familiar U.S. Army camouflage brownish-green. Starr picked out a pair of the sturdy cotton pants, a white shirt, socks and shoes.
After, Alin led her to the showers, on the opposite end of the hall, and told her to meet him on the seventh floor when she was done.
The lady’s shower and locker room was just as dreary as the rest of the building. It had plain grey wal
ls with no decorations.
She walked over to a bench and undressed. Then she pulled the Necro-Grimoire from her pajama pocket and carefully stuffed it in the cargo pocket of the army pants.
Never, in her life, had she enjoyed the feel of hot water on her skin. Her kind didn’t sweat anymore, but their skin could get clammy, as dew and other environmental factors settled into their skin. At the moment, it was the smell of char that clung to her pores.
After she was refreshed, she dropped her pajamas in the trash and took the stairs back up to the seventh floor. She made her way to the room in which the Fleet members were working with three of the men in suits. Together, they looked down at maps, and picked out the routes they’d take to each state capitol, and rid them of vampires.
Starr stood at the door, a moment, and, silently, watched them.
Listening to and watching the man Chanler called Bob, it was easy to tell that it was no pleasure for him to be in their company. The corners of his mouth were forced into a downturn, and his eyes were expressionless. His scent was something foul, a clear sign that he was beyond hating them, but loathed them.
Starr moved to the seat closest to the door; Bob flinched as she sat.
A look of surprise appeared on all their faces.
“How did you do that?” asked Chanler.
“Do what?”
“Nevermind,” Alin cut in. He looked, knowingly, at Starr, and then turned back to Bob and the other men.
After a few more words, Alin said, “So, Starr,” in his light Romanian accent. “There is no time to go into major details, so here’s what’s happening: We’re gonna start our cleanup efforts in D.C. It is important to secure the capitol, before Lucenzo and Amir release a new batch of virus, or organize their vampires to attack.”
When she said nothing, he continued, “Now we’re just gonna go through and kill all the vamps, and then the military is gonna come through and take over. We’ll move on to New York City, where the immediate concern is securing the United Nations.”
Chanler added, “After we’ve secured the Nation’s Capitol and the U.N., we’re gonna split up: me, Michelle, and James will visit the governors, in their states, and lend a hand where we’re needed; you, Alin, Emil, and Saul will hunt down Lucenzo and kill him, as we’re pretty sure he’s still on the East Coast somewhere. This way, you’ll be close to home, you can find Lily, and, after he’s dead, you can take her back to the clinic with you, if you should decide not to kill her, that is. After, Emil and Alin will continue on, with Saul, to Romania, where they’ll hunt down Amir and his followers.”
“And you’re welcome to come, of course,” said Emil sounding hopeful.
Starr flushed with a combination of frustration and guilt.
“Why do you need me to hunt down Lucenzo? I’d rather go home, if I may.”
“Lucenzo shares the blood of an elder, so he’s strong. We need our strongest people on him,” Alin answered.
He must have seen the heat she felt in her face, for he asked, “Is something wrong, Starr?”
“No,” she said, pursing her lips as she looked sideways and shook her head.
“I’ve finished, downstairs,” came a familiar voice.
She turned her head and saw the unmistakable round face of the short tempered Michelle.
“It’s getting late; I need to eat,” Bob said, and his cohorts, whose names she didn’t catch, murmured in agreement.
Alin, who seemed unable to stop watching her, asked “Starr, how about I show you where we’re sleeping tonight?”
Then, without waiting for an answer, he motioned with his hand for her to follow him.
Feeling a familiar burning sensation, in her stomach and esophagus, at the sight of Michelle whispering into Chanler’s ear, she stood up and followed.
“How long have you, all, been here?”
“Not long,” Alin replied. “After we left Lake George, we returned to Boston.”
“Why?”
“To search Lucenzo’s house again, and then his office. Ever since we heard he’d been treating Lily, we’ve tried to track down any information on the antidote he’s been giving her.”
“Did you find anything?” she asked, hoping that Lily would be okay if Lucenzo died.
“No.”
“Why do we always take the stairs?” she asked, as he held the door open for her.
“If power should die, then we could be trapped inside. Vampire strength or no, it could be a real hassled getting out of there. ”
They made it up several flights and exited the stairwell when Starr had a sudden clouding of vision: a feeling of sudden happiness overwhelmed her, making her feel heady.
“Are you okay?”
It took a moment for her vision to clear. “Yeah, I’m fine,” she said.
One thing Starr hated about many vampires, like Alin, was a good number of them grew into telepathic abilities. She had yet to meet one as intrusive as her best friend, Shane, but it was still aggravating.
Although she had fits of telepathy, here and there, it was likely that Starr would never grow into abilities like theirs, and, for that, she was thankful. She was glad to be a poor telepath, but, unfortunately, that meant she was also poor at blocking mental intrusion.
“The flashes are sometimes symptoms of the blood you share with another; you’re feeling her emotion. Don’t worry,” he said. “You will get used to it, and learn to shut them out. The first time is always a surprise.”
She did a double take and stopped.
“Yes, I know, it was Credenza,” he paused too. “Given her protectiveness over you, it’s not hard to figure out who would have saved you. Plus, your reluctance to speak of it also gave it away, for if you were to admit, then it would be like admitting you’re indebted to her. You only want to return to a normal teenage life, not be indebted to an ancient vampire.”
“How do you know about sharing blood?” she asked, wanting to change the conversation. “Were you ever healed?”
“Once, by my brother, but he is dead now.”
They exited the stairwell and walked through a brightly lit hall to a room at the end.
“We’re all in our own rooms,” he said. “Here is how you set the lock.”
He opened the door and held in the zero button, of the number panel below the door handle, until the light blinked red several times.
“Okay, punch in your code.”
Inside was a basic cement room that looked like a jail cell, with a silver sink and tiny bed that was bolted to the wall.
Tired of the leather book swinging about, in her pocket, Starr pulled it out and tossed it on the bed.
“What was that?”
Alin walked up to the bed and picked it up.
“Where did you get this?” he asked, pushing his eyebrows even closer together than usual.
When she said nothing, he added, “It looks very old. I can smell age coming from the pages, though the leather binding is not quite as old as the interior: someone had it rebound.”
“Can you read it?”
“I don’t read Latin.”
“But isn’t Romanian the language that’s closest to Latin?”
“Yeah, it’s pretty close, but it’s kind of like what old English is to Modern; completely different. Maybe you can spot a word here and there, but it’s mostly gibberish.”
Starr felt disappointed.
“I can tell you this, though: A grimoire is a book of spells. Necro, from the Greek word Nekros, means dead.”
As he said this, Starr felt her skin grow warm.
He seemed not to notice, as he flipped through the pages once more, and then tossed it on the bed.
Dinner was a stiff necked affair. The fleet sat on one side of the room while a blend of military and suits sat on the other.
Saul and Emil sat whispering to each other while Michelle and Chanler bickered at their end of the table. Sari, James, and Alin listened, intently, to the guys a
cross the room. Periodically, they’d look each other in the eyes, and Starr knew they were communicating telepathically.
Every so often, the Fleet members would look each other in the eyes, and grimace about the conversations they overheard.
The military men and their suited cohorts didn’t seem to realize that vampires had exceptional hearing; they didn’t notice that every time they’d called them monsters, abominations, and unnatural, they’d heard. When a man, named Steve, suggested they get some torches and barbeque them all, Bob agreed with such seriousness that Starr got worried.
When a guy replied to Steve, “…I’d like to get a hose, hook it up to some holy water and shove it up their asses…” James rose out of his seat, demon eyes alight, and ready to trash them all, but Chanler ordered that he sit back down.
“We all know how they feel about us. Let them act as though we’re oblivious to them,” he commanded.
“This is good,” Starr added, “because if they’re planning to double cross us, and I think they are, we’ll be ready for them.”
“Oh, so you’re one of us, now,” said Alin, raising his eyebrows comically.
Later that night on her way up to bed, she caught up with Chanler in the hall.
“How long do you think this cleanup is gonna take?”
“Years, unfortunately. Every governor is responsible for cleaning up their own state, but we’re just gonna visit with them and help out with any difficult areas, or mass accumulations, so our part – the Fleet’s roll – should only last a year or two at most. Most civilians are gonna be faced with the responsibility of taking vampires out, too, and especially if they want to move back into their homes and return to work, and a normal functioning society. We can only hope that innocents don’t get killed, and that people handle this responsibility well.”
Starr was getting impatient. She couldn’t care less about their tour of duty. “Yeah, but how long to clean up D.C. and the United Nations?”
“All you want is to go home. Starr, how can you be so selfish?”
Suddenly, it felt like hot coals were in the pit of her stomach.
“I just missed my seventeenth birthday because I was in a fire; I haven’t been to school in over a year; I’ve been burned, decapitated, shot more times than I can count. People, my age, are supposed to be worrying about college and friends, and clothes and makeup, but, instead, I’m here with you!”
Cutting their conversation short, Michelle walked toward them with a look that said ‘get away from my man.’
Starr said nothing more, went inside her room and closed the door.
Messy Cleanup
