by S. E. Meyer
James uploaded the file into the Shepherd. “What are we looking for?”
“We're looking for anything that will overlap. The pattern in the brick, the shape of the ally, the pothole in the street. Anything the computer can identify and compare so we know where this brick wall is within the city.”
“Cross referencing all images now,” James said as thousands of images flew across the screen in seconds.
Cornelius lit a cigarette and tapped his foot.
“Sorry, Sir, this would go faster if you could narrow it down to one part of the city.”
Cornelius rubbed his chin with wrinkled knuckles. He smiled, raising an index finger. “Add in all routes of Damarion Brockman‘s car.”
James nodded. The screen continued to flash images for several minutes and then stopped. Displayed on the screen was a brick building off in the distance. “Looks like the computer picked this up from a bridge camera.” James pecked at the keys on the keyboard in front of him. “Won't be long now. Give me a second here.” He raised his hands. “There we are.”
An address displayed across the screen. '42 Railroad St.’
Cornelius balled his fist as his tongue darted around his lips. “Finally! I have you!” He turned to James. “Get my military team on the radio.”
“They are still searching the sewers, Sir.”
“I don't give a shit about the sewers. We know where they're hiding. I want every soldier at forty-two railroad street in the next ten minutes.”
CHAPTER VIII
Ten Years Earlier
Richard Brockman turned twelve. Considered a man in some circles and religions. Most children would expect a gift, or at the very least, a modest cake. Any simple recognition by the family of another year of life, but Richard’s family was unlike most.
His grandfather was working on a new project in the basement. These were the best days. The days when Grandfather was busy with his own preoccupations instead of focusing on what Richard was doing, or not doing.
This was an opportunity to go into Grandfather's study. Richard knew it was off limits. He knew how angry Grandfather would get if he found out Richard had slipped a toe passed the threshold, but this was a rare opportunity. After all, it was his birthday, and this was a chance to see her again.
Richard crept into the study, careful to avoid the spot in front of the bookshelf where the floor would squeak. He moved around to the back of the large desk and opened the top left drawer. He slipped his hand inside and pulled out the framed picture he found there. Richard flipped the picture over and stared at the young woman facing him.
It was the only photograph of his mother in the house. He found it one day a few years earlier while sneaking through Grandfather's things.
Richard continued to stare at the woman he never knew, studying the features of the mother he never met. Thoughts flooded through him as he examined her eyes and attractive face below silken straw-yellow hair. Would she have loved him? Would she hug him tight like he saw other mothers do? Richard wondered how his life would have been different if she was still alive. Grandfather used his money and power to get full custody so he rarely saw his father. An orphan, Richard supposed. Stuck living with the angry man downstairs.
Richard traced the outline of his mother's face with his finger before placing it back in the drawer. As he slid the drawer closed, Richard noticed a bar of chocolate nestled inside between two cigars. He wrapped his hand around the chocolate, knowing he couldn't take it.
But it is my birthday.
Richard knew there would be no celebration. No presents. No cake. No acknowledgment that today was any different from any other.
Maybe just one piece.
Richard lifted the bar from the drawer.
By the time he notices the old man won't remember if he ate it himself.
Richard pulled the wrapper, tearing it open. The delicious smell of cocoa filled his nose. He raised it to his lips and took one bite.
The milk chocolate melted on his tongue. The sweet taste and creamy texture exploded his saliva glands, watering his mouth.
Happy Birthday to me.
There was a noise in the main ballroom.
Richard recoiled.
Grandfather.
He swallowed hard, tossing the chocolate into the drawer before tiptoeing through the study. Once he rounded the corner, Richard escaped to his room.
An hour ticked by, awarding Richard with a false sense of security. He let out a breath while lifting his tablet from the bed as the squawk of his grandfather's voice reverberated down the hall.
“Boy!”
Richard’s heart leaped to his throat.
Grandfather.
He clamored for the door and threw it open.
“Yes, Grandfather?”
Richard’s knees weakened watching Cornelius stomp down the hall towards his room.
“Were you in my study?” he roared through brandy-flushed cheeks.
Richard lowered his head and stared at his feet.
“You were in there. I know you were. How many times have I told you never to go in there? You're a little thief. Well, you'll feel the buckle end of my belt for this, boy.”
Cornelius arrived at the doorway to Richard's room. “Well, what are you waiting for? You know where it hangs. Get it.”
Richard stood, his feet glued to the hardwood floor. “But it's my birthday,” he pleaded.
“I don't care what fucking day it is. Now, go and get it.”
Richard slumped down the hall. Like anchors moored in muck, he willed one foot in front of the other.
“Quit dawdling, I haven't got all day.”
Richard returned with belt in hand. He held it up, unable to hide the terror behind his tearing, walnut-colored eyes.
Cornelius plucked it from Richard's shaking hand. The buckle dropped, swaying just above the red oak flooring.
“Take it off.”
Richard removed his shirt, revealing the scars that filled his back.
The hallway blurred as he leaned over, placing his hands on the doorjamb.
Richard winced, awaiting the inevitable.
The buckle flew in an arc, landing hard on Richard's back.
“Fat head,” Cornelius yelled.
Another crack of the belt snapped across his back.
“Wicked child.”
Richard's fingernails dug into the door's jamb as the belt continued to find his flesh.
“There are rules. You need to get that through your fat head.”
The gold buckle jingled as it flew, stopping to stake a new claim.
Richard stood motionless with gritted teeth.
“You were in there looking at her picture?”
The belt came down, more intense with each question, fracturing the air with the crack of lightening.
Richard twisted as the pain thundered through his frame.
“That's what killed her, you know. Your fat fucking head.”
Crack! Richard wobbled on rubber legs as the belt echoed, dredging his skin.
“You killed your own mother.”
Crack!
The nail on Richard’s third finger bent backwards, tearing off in the doorjamb with the final blow.
Cornelius wheezed, the tortuous tool hanging limp in his hand as he caught his breath.
“Get out of my sight, boy!” he said through labored breaths.
Richard slipped his shirt over his head, running down the hallway as spots swarmed his peripheral. He threw the main door open and leaped from the stoop. After forcing his arms through the sleeves, he pulled the shirt down over his back, wincing through the sting.
Richard ran. He ran until the burning in his lungs matched his scorched soul. He ran until the sting in his side mirrored the bite of his back. Richard would have ran until his heart gave out, spanning the city and out to the other side, taking his chances with the crazies. But after an hour of jogging the streets, his legs grew as weary as his will.
By su
bconscious or conscious effort, Richard was unaware, but he stopped to catch his breath in front of the Morton’s house. As his gaze wandered to an upper window, he caught a glance of Anna. He ducked behind the bushes bordering the property and stared between the thicket. Anna was undressing.
Richard’s eyes widened.
Anna removed her shirt and pants, stripping to her underwear near her bedroom window.
Richard smiled.
Happy Birthday to me.
CHAPTER IX
Anna's Present
Shadow padded to Anna’s side. She reached for him, stroking his gray coat before scratching his ear.
He looked deep into Anna's eyes. “Listen. This is imperative. You must wake up, Anna. Wake up! Now!”
Shadow's shape faded with a final thought.
“Only when sheep become wolves and wolves become sheep, will man have peace and restful sleep.”
Anna's surroundings changed. She was back in her bed as a little girl with the man at its foot. She pulled the blankets down, against her own will. There it was. The dark figure loitering motionless.
Anna bit into her quivering lip, listening to his slow breaths in the dark.
As he took a step closer, his face moved into the faint streetlamp light. The man smiled, baring fangs.
Anna’s small heart clubbed her ribs as the vampire licked his lips. The shadow neared, hovering over her.
Anna shook, fists clenched, trying to release the coagulated cries in her throat. Sweat beads clung to her hair as she lay helpless, anticipation of hot lips on her neck.
Will it hurt? she wondered, awaiting the bright white teeth to puncture her skin and steal her lifeblood.
“Wake up!” Shadow's voice growled in her head.
Anna opened her eyes, taking in the scene. Two men and a woman stood over her.
Anna jolted.
Unable to move with arms and legs bound, her vise-gripped chest tightened with every short gasp of air. She could only focus on her abductor's faces. They melted into different shapes, twisting and contorting.
Am I still hallucinating?
Anna squirmed in her bonds as the three red eyed, blotched faced, demons stared down at her.
This isn't real. It can't be.
Drool dripped from their fangs as they ran their fingers along her flesh.
“You’ll wish you never woke up,” the bloodsucker on Anna's left said, hacksaw still in hand.
The blade bit into her skin as a gunshot detonated in her ears. The man's face shattered into bits of broken skin and blood.
Anna screamed, heart battering her breastbone.
The vampire standing over her turned towards the kitchen doorway and a second explosion erupted.
Anna's ears rang as she watched the top of the second man's head disappear. He fell to his knees, flopping to his side next to the couch.
The female vampire went into hysterics, lunging towards something behind the couch. Anna rolled onto the floor, tearing at the ropes, trying to see the source of the gunshots.
She wormed her way to the corner of the sofa in time to see a fourth man aiming a shotgun at the woman. The gun went off a third time and the woman crumpled to the floor.
Anna writhed, attempting to free herself. The fourth man looked down at her and then knelt, moving his face close to hers.
Horrified, Anna watched his features swirl into a puddle of eyeball, nose and fang soup before correcting itself into the shape of a man's face. A man she recognized.
Anna's eyes widened.
The dark goatee. The smooth jawline.
“Richard,” she breathed.
“Are you okay?” Richard asked, untying the knots.
“Is it really you? What are you doing here?”
Richard pulled the ropes from Anna's legs. “You sent me over here, remember?”
“I mean, what are you doing here, at this house?”
Richard helped Anna to a sitting position, unraveling the rope from her arms and torso. “Saving your life.” Richard smiled. “That's three times now, but who's counting.”
Anna rolled over, snapping the shotgun off the floor and pointing it at Richard.
“What are you doing?” Richard asked.
With lingering effects of Psilocybin twisting her thoughts and a man she could not trust standing before her, Anna realized the importance of caution. “I’m being careful,” she said. “Put your arms behind you back.”
“What? I just saved your life.”
Anna took the rope and tied Richard's hands together. “Yes, thanks for that, but I still can't trust you.”
“Some kind of thanks I get.”
Anna ignored him, nodding towards the door. “Let's go.”
“Where are we going?”
“To the fence, there's someone I'm supposed to meet.”
They stepped out into the chilly air and sloshed through the layer of melting snow blanketing the ground. “You don't look very sick to me,” Anna said, keeping Richard out in front with the shotgun to his back.
“Don't worry, shouldn't take long now. I found one of Grandpa's food drops.”
Anna wrinkled her brow. “What?”
“Food drop. He started them as a humanitarian effort after the walls went up. My grandfather donated the food and took all the credit for his philanthropy. He still drops crates on this side of the wall, but not out of the kindness of his heart.”
Anna understood Cornelius well enough to know he always had an angle. “Why does he do it?”
“It's all poisoned and always has been. He does it hoping anyone still alive out here, and everyone that is banished, will find it, ensuring a quicker death.”
“And you ate it? Guilty conscience for all the rotten things you've done making you want to off yourself.”
“I'm going to die out here anyway, I figured there's no reason for me to die hungry.”
“Poisoned with what?”
“High doses of Fleishman's.”
Anna touched a finger to her lip as she recalled the confrontation with the wolf.
Could Shadow have known?
They continued to the fence in silence until Anna heard a twig snap behind them. She turned to find Shadow trotting along behind.
“You're still here?” Anna asked the animal.
“Careful Anna,” Richard said. “That wolf looks hungry.”
Shadow squared off with Richard and let out a growl through bared teeth.
“Don't worry about him. That's just Shadow.”
Richard took a step towards the wolf. “What, you have a pet wolf?”
Shadow snapped at Richard, forcing him to retreat.
“Well, he's not a tame wolf. Good judge of character though, I'd say. Doesn't seem to like you much.”
“Tell him to back off.”
“I told you he's not a pet, and he's not tame. I can't tell him to do anything.” Anna pointed the shotgun at Richard. “Keep moving, we have to get to the fence.”
They pushed their way through the brambles and boughs, slogging through the dead grass with wet feet before finding the fence line.
Anna found the place where she drew her initials.
Still no Atticus.
Anna kicked the dirt.
Where the hell could he be?
“Who are you supposed to meet?”
Anna shook her head. “Doesn't matter. He's not here.”
Anna's stomach growled.
“I can tell, you're frustrated. And hungry by the sound of it.”
“Obviously I'm frustrated, yeah. I'm cold, hungry, and fumbling around out here like a virgin in the backseat on prom night when I could do something helpful. I almost got eaten by crazies and now I have to babysit you so I don't end up being your next meal, or worse.” Anna grabbed the cold fence with her fingers, shaking it with her arms. “This entire situation is pissing me off!”
Anna sensed a presence behind her.
She turned to find Shadow heading towards her, carrying someth
ing in his mouth.
“What have you got there?” Anna asked the wolf, squatting on her haunches.
Shadow moved in front of Anna and set what he was carrying onto the ground in front of her.
“Rabbit. No, two rabbits! You brought me food?”
Anna smiled. She reached out, moving her hand to stroke the top of his head and scratch behind his ears. “Some appreciation for saving your life? Good boy!”
The wolf turned, strutting deeper into the forest, but not before growling at Richard.
Richard shook his head. “Now if I could only get some appreciation for saving yours.”
“What do you want from me, Richard? Am I supposed to grovel at the feet of my mother's murderer?” Anna shook her head. “You still haven't changed.”
Richard hung his head. “I can't change the past.”
“No, and now you have no future.”
“I've known you a long time, Anna. Almost your whole life, and I've been nothing but nice to you. All the flowers, the chocolates, the cards and gifts.”
“Yes, except for when you threatened to hurt Sara, or when you attacked me on the wall and there's that little thing about murdering my mother you keep forgetting.”
“Killing your mother was unintentional.”
“What is that supposed to mean? One morning you got out of bed, slipped, tripped and fell into a murderous rampage?” Anna threw up her arms. “Pardon me everyone, it was an accident.”
“At least you had a mother,” Richard snapped.
Anna rolled her eyes. “Oh, here we go. So now I'm supposed to feel bad for you because you never had a mother?” She stepped towards Richard, pointing her finger in his face. “You're better off not having experienced a mother's love than to have it ripped away from you by some pampered, pompous asshole.”
“You think he pampered me?” Richard shook his head. “If you call regular whippings with a belt, pampered.”
Anna cocked her head while pouting her lips. “Aww, did the poor little rich boy get a spanking?” Her glare pierced into Richard like a pair of bayonets. “What did you do? Murder the maid?”
Anna snatched the rabbits from the ground with one hand while fishing the knife from her pocket with the other.
