"Yes, sir!" The four young soldiers obediently jogged the remaining fifty feet of hallway and turned into the main foyer, leaving me alone with Captain Thomas and an aged, leathery-looking man that was the master chief.
"Look, Captain, I don't know what's…" I started.
"Be quiet. We only have a minute, and we have to make it sound real."
"This isn't real?" I asked.
"Chief, you know what to do," the captain said, receiving a nod in reply.
The chief walked several feet up the hall, turned to the wall, and started yelling at it. "Don't you call us traitors, you fanged freak!" He slammed the butt of his rifle against the wall, sending a thudding echo reverberating down the corridor, and then continued his litany.
"The soldiers will be distracted by his voice," the captain said, putting an arm around my shoulder and pulling me close so we could talk through the chief's barrage. "The chief and I are loyal to the United States; we just have to be careful about it because Samael is killing or mutilating the families of those who betray him. Those three mutilated girls in there, one was the vice president's daughter, another a senator's, and the one that stood by you is the daughter of my boss, Admiral Stanton. She used to be a beautiful girl. I don't want that happening to my daughter." There was a haunted look in his eyes. "All of their parents are dead now. Even the president is dead. Killed yesterday as an example to other resistant world leaders."
"Jesus." I knew the president had two children of her own, and feared they were probably now part of Samael's army of mutilated kids; a fate I had to protect Lori from. "Captain, I have to rescue my daughter. Do you know where she is?"
"We have a plan. There is a facility; more like a concentration camp, just outside of Washington designed to encourage cooperation. That's where your daughter is."
"Camp David?" I asked, pulling from information I had learned from Karen earlier.
"Put those fucking fangs away before I break them off, boy!" the chief's well-honed barks interrupted.
"Yes," the captain confirmed. "We have formed a resistance group comprised of hundreds of loyal soldiers. At 1:30 pm our time, they are going to raid Camp David and free the hostages. If successful, another group will attempt to take the Capital back at two. We're confident that thousands of soldiers will join us once the assault begins. There is dissidence in the ranks. Most of them know who Samael really is now, and they don't like what he's done."
"What if they fail?"
"Not trying will be failure. Samael's people make the Nazi concentration camps look like Club Med. It's horrific." To hear of something so detestable happening in the United States, the land of hope and freedom that I witnessed the creation of, disturbed me deeply.
"How can I help?" I asked, raising my voice to combat the chief's yelling, but not so loud that the waiting soldiers down the hall might hear.
"We have enough assets to succeed, but the main concern is Samael and those creatures with him. We need you to distract them so he cannot issue orders. Only Samael can order the use of nukes, and as you have seen firsthand, he is not afraid to do so."
"If you get my daughter out safe, I will do more than distract him, I'll kill him." Remembrance of Samael slicing through my wrist came to me, and I worried that I was speaking with excessive bravado. If I failed, he would punish the usurpers in the worst way imaginable.
"We'll do our best to get her." He pulled me a little closer, his voice lowered as he went into details of the planned coup d'état. "Samael and his entourage are leaving by helicopter for Stonehenge at twelve-thirty today."
"Stonehenge?" It seemed like an odd side trip for a man just coming into world domination.
"There's something there, but I don't know the details. All I know is that they've sent in a lot of excavation equipment. Samael should be there by one."
"And I have to take him out no later than two?"
"Yes. He must be incapacitated by then. Also, he carries a sat phone…usually it's in a briefcase handcuffed to someone he trusts. Make sure he does not use it. If he does, then all is lost. Nukes will rain down. Destroy it. Is this too much to ask?"
"No. I'm the only one on Earth with a chance of killing him, but I'll need to feed before I face him."
"Not on me this time you don't. Your driver will have what you need."
"Driver? How am I supposed to escape without Samael finding out?"
"In a body bag. Can you play dead?"
"Sure," I said. "Legally, I already am."
"Good." He retrieved a cell phone from a pocket and held it out. "Take this. It's on vibrate so place it where you will feel it. I'll ring twice once we have secured Camp David and hopefully your daughter. If it doesn't ring, something went wrong." I took it and slipped it into my pocket as he continued, "I will delay notifying Samael of your death until after he returns from Stonehenge, which…"
"Ideally he won't," I finished the thought for him.
"Exactly. Are you ready to die now? The hearse will take you to intercept Samael." I nodded. "Chief, we're ready."
The master chief walked to us, pulling out his sidearm as he did. "The kids guarding the main door don't know if you're bulletproof or not, so this should work. You are bulletproof, right?" he asked.
"Yes," I replied. "Just shoot so the bullet grazes at an angle and ricochets away from you both." A thought occurred to me. "What if Samael hears the shot?"
"He won't," the captain said. "They left by a backstage door once the curtains closed. He's giving a speech downtown before heading to Stonehenge."
"Great. Let's do this then," I said.
"Okay, here we go," the master chief said, raising the gun to my chest. I turned slightly sideways hoping he wouldn't suffer from deflected shrapnel. "He's running!" he yelled for the benefit of the soldiers guarding the exit. "Stop!" The gun fired.
The bullet tore a large hole in my blue jumpsuit and left black residue across my exposed skin. It didn't look like a kill shot though.
"Lie down," Captain Thomas said. I complied and was impressed when he pulled out a small jar containing dark-red fluid. He quickly poured it around where the bullet had hit, and I smelled that it was real blood. Hunger rose within, but I contained it.
"You guys thought of everything," I said.
"Quiet! They're coming!" he replied, fumbling to conceal the jar in his pocket.
"Captain, is everything all right?" the lead soldier yelled while still running down the hall towards us. I locked my eyes open and unmoving, transfixed on the ceiling above. In my peripheral vision, I saw the soldiers skid to a halt and stare down at me worriedly.
"He's dead," the captain said.
"But I thought they were immortal," the same soldier replied.
"Jones, go get a body bag," Captain Thomas ordered. The youngest looking man standing behind the others acknowledged the command and jogged away. "Chief, call the coroner. We'll want to autopsy this freak of nature."
"Yes, sir." The chief stepped away, pulling out a phone.
"Did you shoot him with the virus?" the persistent soldier asked.
"You know we only have enough virus for six bullets, I didn't want to waste them," the captain replied, sharing some interesting news with me. If there were only six bullets, then the majority of modified rifles I had seen must have been fakes designed to keep me off guard.
"Well maybe we should use one on him just to be sure," the soldier said, kneeling down next to me. His fingers came over my eyes and slid down to close the eyelids. "Dead eyes always freak me out."
"Soldier, get up!" the captain blurted. With my vision now gone, all I could do was listen.
"Sorry, sir!"
"The chief and I checked him out. He's dead. Obviously he wasn't as strong as our leader is."
"But, sir…"
"Are you questioning us?"
"No, sir!"
"That's good, because we live in a different world now. Those who question their superiors don't stick around too long."
> "Hearse should be here in a few minutes," the master chief said. Behind his voice, I heard the sound of running boots coming down the hall.
"Here you go, sir."
"Thanks, Jones. Let's pack him up, gentlemen," the captain said.
I felt one soldier grab my wrists and another took my ankles. They lifted and I heard the body bag slide under me, and then they abruptly dropped me. I managed to maintain my dead act, even through a swift kick to the ribs by the persistent soldier, which brought a tongue-lashing from Captain Thomas. So intense was the captain that I thought he was going to shoot the soldier, but the youngster's profuse apologies disarmed the situation.
"Zip it up and let's go. The hearse will be out back, away from the crowds," Captain Thomas said.
I heard the zipper slide shut, and then they lifted me. To encourage expedience, I took about forty pounds off my weight, and soon felt myself swinging from side to side as the men traversed the royal home. They were silent, most likely from the furious reprimand by the captain about kicking the dead, until they reached the door that led outside.
"Hold up. I have to unlock it," the captain said.
"Got it, sir."
A corner of the bag lurched and for a moment, I thought they would drop me. I could only imagine their reactions if the bag levitated out of their hands, but they managed to hold on without my assistance.
"Okay, come on," ordered the captain once the door was open.
I felt them walk forward and the pitch-blackness within the bag lightened a little as they stepped into the sun. I focused my hearing and caught the sound of a vehicle idling nearby, and then a car door opened and slammed shut. Something clicked and then slid up on gas-charged pistons. I imagined it to be a rear hatch opening, like on a station wagon. Footsteps coming towards us.
"We'll get him in the car for you, ma'am," the captain said.
"Thank you very much." It was Monique's voice! I almost jumped up in shock. Almost.
Chapter 42
Safely tucked inside the hearse as it started on its journey, I searched for the body bag's zipper, anxious to talk with Monique. I heard the sound of something sliding open.
"Stay down!" she said, as if reading my mind. "There are a lot of people who will be peering in. I will tell you when it's safe."
"How did you get here?" I asked, loud enough to be heard, unable to hold back my curiosity.
"Not now, Michael. I don't want people wondering who I'm talking to." Scolded, I stopped looking for the zipper and waited, feeling more like a corpse than was comfortable.
The hearse jostled and bounced, while outside I could hear people shouting and then rapping on the glass windows with their hands. Monique unleashed a litany of French curses, highlighted by honking the horn. It was a side of her I had never seen. Her patience had always been rock steady.
The car bounced violently several times, and I had the sick feeling that she had ran over several people. Of course she hadn't, I told myself. "Prendre que!" she yelled. Take that!
Or maybe she had. Whatever had happened, the ride smoothed considerably afterwards and soon I felt our speed pick up. I assumed we had made it to the highway.
"Is it safe now?" I asked.
"Yes. There is blood back there in a cooler for you to feed on," she replied.
I found the zipper, which of course wasn't designed to be opened from the inside, so I used a claw to nudge it down enough to get my hands out of the bag. I then peeled it open the rest of the way and sat up. The rear window displayed a view of the highway meandering through the countryside behind us. We appeared to be moving at a clip that was well above the speed limit.
Finding it difficult to move due to the low ceiling, I eased myself to the right where I saw a blue cooler. Turning further, I placed my face near the opening in the Plexiglas window that divided Monique and I.
"In a hurry?" I asked.
"I want to get there before Samael does." She stared straight ahead, both hands on the wheel, looking like a devil trying to escape Heaven. Driving like one, too. Her hair seemed darker, like the blackest abyss; while in contrast, her complexion had paled considerably. And then I caught her eyes in the rearview mirror and saw with surprise that they weren't blue anymore. They were now pits of darkness, matching her hair. I had a revelation.
"The potion wore off, didn't it?" I asked. She didn't respond. "Stop the car so I can get in the front seat."
"No time." She seemed cold, indifferent, which was far from how we parted in France.
"If you want me to kill Samael, then pull over."
"Samael isn't our concern," she said flatly. My confusion quickly turned to anger.
"Pull the goddamn car over, Monique!" Again, she responded with silence. "Fine! Have it your way!" I grabbed the edges of the rectangle-shaped opening she had slid open earlier, and pulled.
"Stop that!" she yelled, snapping her head in my direction, baring long sharp fangs. Her dark eyes were the essence of rage, and more disturbingly, hatred. This wasn't the woman I had known of as Monique and Elizabeth.
Despite her protests, I yanked, causing the Plexiglas to crack and splinter. Furiously I started clearing the shards away, intending on climbing into the front seat, but then she slammed on the brakes.
The hearse went sideways, teetered precariously, and then momentum changed its mind and decided to spin us in circles several times. I held on firmly, pressing my hands into the roof so hard that permanent indentations of my palms were stamped into the metal. We came to rest in a farmer's freshly plowed field with the contents of the cooler strewn about as if a vampire child's piñata had busted open.
"There, are you happy?" she yelled through the shattered divider.
"Why are you not taking me to confront Samael?" I asked.
"Because he will kill you, you idiot." She opened her door, got out, and I watched through the tinted side window as she angrily stomped to the back of the hearse. The hatch opened. "Get out. We have to get going again or all is lost." Hurriedly, I grabbed several bags of blood and slid out the back.
"We could just fly," I said into her cold glare.
"I was hoping to avoid that, but we might have to once we're closer to make up for lost time, thanks to you. If we're seen in flight though, Samael will be warned off."
"I thought you didn't care about Samael?"
"I said he's not our concern. Get in the damn car." She slammed the hatch and started for the front of the car. I followed suit on the passenger side.
"I can't quite place what, but something about you is different," I said with more than a little sarcasm over the rooftop. She scowled and we both got in. Dropping the gear selector to drive, she peeled out in the dirt, fishtailing back to the highway.
"You're taking me to Stonehenge, but you don't want me to confront Samael," I said. "I don't understand?" Rapidly we picked up speed, and despite my immortality, I buckled up.
"You have a different destiny," she replied.
"Monique, my daughter's life is on the line, as well as a lot of others. I have to kill him."
"If you die before fulfilling your purpose, everyone will be screwed. I didn't wait all these years just for you to mess it up."
"How did you find me?" I asked, curious about how she tracked me from France when the country would still be in complete chaos. She looked at me, and despite her changes, I felt strong feelings surface.
"I always know where you are and Captain Thomas thought my plan was good, although it's not the plan we're going to follow," she said, and then looked back at the road in time to steer the hearse around a slow-moving truck without flipping us.
"I want the full story, Monique, or I'm getting out and doing things my way." I hoped she needed me enough for whatever she had in mind that such a threat would work. "First, what do you mean that you always know where I am?"
"You are persistent. I always liked that. My venom is how. While I can't pinpoint your exact location from a distance, I can feel the general vicinity
and narrow it down from there as I get closer."
"Impossible," I said.
"Why would it be impossible? You know that each of us has unique properties designed into our venom. Mine is very subtle, but effective. Ra designed it so that I could help him maintain control, but little did he know it would come back to bite him…literally."
"You would have had to bite me, and I don't recall that…unless like Ra's, your venom is strong enough to work just by drinking?"
"It is."
"But you had no memory, which means you had no venom. How did you get me to drink it?"
"I didn't. Ra did. The potion he gave you was a combination of his venom and mine. That way, when he possessed your friend and introduced us, you were sure to fall in love with me so that I could be there to help you complete your destiny when it wore off. Aside from freeing him, your venom can heal him. We planned it all very carefully long before Samael imprisoned him. Ra can see into the future somehow."
My mind reeled; my entire existence was a lie orchestrated by the perverse mind of Ra and this woman. "Fall in love with you?" I asked, dreading the explanation.
"My venom also attracts you to me." She smiled while still watching the road. "It causes strong attraction and loyalty in anyone I share it with."
I shook my head in denial. "But I really fell in love with you."
"They all do. Ra fell the hardest, although George was a close second." She glanced sideways. "Or…maybe you fell the hardest judging by your face."
"All? George died because you infected him with a love potion?" Her cold callousness disturbed me. "Are you saying you feel nothing for me?"
"No! I'm sorry. Did I hurt your feelings? You're very useful."
"Useful. Is that what you thought of George, too?" I unbuckled my seatbelt.
"What are you doing?" she asked.
"Leaving. I'm done being your tool."
"Michael, please don't." She looked sideways at me again, smiled, and my heart fluttered. I reminded myself that it was just her venom causing the reaction. She was using it to her advantage, which sent a wave of disappointment washing over me. I looked away in time to see a sign blur past stating that Stonehenge was twenty kilometers away.
Venom of the Gods Page 28
