by L. M. Justus
“Sure. Then what?”
“Once you have awoken and the sun has set, I will leave this facility to take stock of the fortifications at the city’s outermost limits. When I return, we can devise a plan for getting past the barriers and exiting the greater New York City area for good. You can stay here to ensure the women’s safety. Lastly, I would suggest they try to get some rest.”
“What happened to getting supplies for the prisoners in return for letting us stay?” Sarah asked.
“That will no longer be necessary,” Nathaniel answered. “If the viral outbreak is truly confined to New York, our new priority is to leave the area. Do you not agree?”
We all looked around, nodding, and it was clear we agreed unanimously.
The door opened behind me, and a man in an orange jumpsuit came in with an armload of blankets. “Sorry it took a while,” he said, dropping the heap on the floor.
“Perfect timing,” Nathaniel said, capturing the man’s gaze. “You will come with me.”
The light in the man’s eyes dimmed as he looked vacantly ahead. He had long, dark hair that hung in greasy strings around his pockmarked face. Oh, no, I thought, my heart sinking. The gross-looking dude was my dinner.
“Come,” Nathaniel said. He walked to the door and the man turned to follow. “I believe you would prefer to feed in privacy?” Nathaniel raised his eyebrows as he looked at me.
“Yeah,” I said, my lip curling. Feeding from a grimy human was the vampire equivalent of eating turnip and liver for dinner.
We entered the room next door, and Nathaniel worked his magic to make the man forget everything. Then he steered Orange Jumpsuit to me and waited.
There was no way I would touch that guy’s disgusting hair to brush it aside and drink from his neck. I took one of his hands and shoved his sleeve up to the elbow. His forearm was covered in a thick layer of wiry hair, so I rotated his arm to expose the wrist. It looked relatively clean, but my fangs stayed stubbornly tucked away.
“Reed?”
“I’m trying,” I said. “Does this ever get any easier?”
“Yes, it does. You must focus on what lies beneath the skin, not on the surface,” Nathaniel instructed in a soothing voice. “Listen to the blood pumping, flowing through his veins. Watch the pulse beat . . . beat . . . beat.”
His hypnotic words helped me focus and my fangs slipped out at last. I bit down, and the thick, warm blood gushed into my mouth. The man looked repulsive on the outside, but the rich, life-giving liquid inside him was as heady and satisfying as any human blood I’d tasted so far. Sarah’s blood was beyond compare of course, but she didn’t have a never-ending supply. As I continued to drink, the electric rush of fresh blood streamed through my body, until my thoughts grew fuzzy and it was time to stop. I pulled away and licked the punctures closed. Nathaniel directed my prey back to the hallway as I stumbled into the corner and lay down to die.
Sarah
Sarah unfolded a scratchy wool blanket and set it on the floor. The guy in the orange jumpsuit had brought them the pile of gray blankets, which appeared relatively clean. Sophie and Trudy helped her spread the covers two layers deep to form a sleeping surface the three women planned to share.
“Doesn’t it bug you that your boyfriend left to suck some guy’s blood for dinner?” Sophie said, smoothing down a corner of the blanket.
Sarah rubbed her temples; a headache nagged her, but she tried to ignore it. She sat down at one edge of the makeshift bed and looked at her sister. “It’s not ideal, but Reed can’t help it. He needs to drink blood every day whether he likes it or not, or he risks losing control. Apparently, that’s what happened to Nathaniel when he was first turned. He killed his own wife and son and didn’t even realize what he’d done until he woke up and found their bodies.”
Trudy gasped. “That’s awful. Poor Nathaniel. Did he tell you that story?”
“No, he told Reed, and Reed passed it along to me. I get the feeling Nathaniel hasn’t shared his story with very many people.”
Sophie flopped down and drew the covers up to her chin. “On that cheerful note, goodnight,” she said. “Or . . . good luck getting any shut-eye now that the sun is about to rise and our sleep schedule is completely screwed up.”
Sarah wriggled under the blankets next to her sister and tried to relax, but the pounding ache in her head was getting worse and she couldn’t help stressing out over their situation. Once again, they’d managed to find themselves in a bizarre location under an unusual set of circumstances.
It was nerve-wracking to be in a building filled with convicted criminals, and Sarah wondered what sort of things the men inside the prison had done to be incarcerated. Where were the warden and guards? Were they locked away somewhere, or worse? Was Benny one of them, or was he one of the prisoners? How had the security protocols gone out the window so quickly? It had been only a few days since the release of the virus. Most likely, the men were all opportunists and had taken advantage of the chaos.
Sarah listened to her companions breathing slowly and deeply until they’d fallen asleep.
She didn’t want to keep tossing and turning and risk waking the other women, but the more she thought about trying to fall asleep, the harder it became to do so. Being aware that it was daybreak didn’t help, even though there weren’t any windows in the room to let in light. Some Aspirin would do wonders, but did she dare risk wandering around to find headache medicine? Maybe she could stop by Benny’s office and ask him for some. Her first impression of Benny wasn’t great–he seemed like a creep and made her suspicious–but she could take care of herself. She was a trained cop after all.
Silently, she slipped out from under the thin blankets, put her shoes on, and padded to the door. The door was unlocked, and she turned the knob and pulled the door open without making a sound. The hallway was deserted. She didn’t know where the prison’s occupants spent the day, but it wasn’t anywhere nearby; Sarah couldn’t hear any voices or detect signs of activity.
She walked down the long corridor toward Benny’s office, her echoing footsteps the only sound disturbing the quiet. When she reached his door, she knocked lightly on the frosted windowpane. She squinted to see through the glass, but she wasn’t able to make out anything. There was no answer to her knock, so she tried again a bit louder.
She started to have second thoughts about wandering around unarmed. Should she have grabbed Nathaniel to come with her?
It seemed like a good time to make use of her ability, so Sarah closed her eyes and concentrated, probing for stray thoughts in the immediate area.
Nothing.
It looked like she didn’t need to worry about bothering Nathaniel–no one was around. It couldn’t hurt to take a quick look around the office if the door was unlocked.
Sarah tried the door and it opened easily: a sure sign she was meant to enter. While she hunted for pain relievers, it wouldn’t hurt to do a little snooping either, she thought.
Scooting around the massive oak desk, she took a furtive glance over the room. She opened the desk’s top drawer and found a messy array of stationery supplies. Sarah opened the bottom drawer next and discovered a stash of crumpled up potato chip bags and empty boxes of candy bars.
Turning her attention to the filing cabinet in the corner of the office, she pulled open the uppermost drawer, which was labeled ‘A-G.’ After a quick peek she found the files describing the prison inmates. Apparently, they still had hard copies, even in the age of computers and electronic databases.
She pulled out the first file: Donovan Abrigo. As she perused his list of offenses, she cringed and a sour taste filled her mouth. The next few files weren’t any better. Multiple counts of aggravated assault, attempted murder, first-degree murder, and so on. Several more files in, she found Benjamin Baccus. Could it be Benny?
The mug shot showed a skinny man with Harry Potter glasses. Definitely not Benny.
As horrifying as many of the profiles were, Sarah couldn’t
stop reading, and she’d completely lost track of time when she finally came across Benford Macina. So . . . Benny was indeed one of the inmates, and he’d been convicted of grand larceny. He was one of the few prisoners who hadn’t been sentenced for a violent crime.
She continued working through the files, and was just pulling out Quinton Nothstine, when the office door opened. Sarah shoved the file into the drawer and slammed the filing cabinet closed. She spun around as a man she didn’t recognize stepped into the room.
He was an average-looking guy, medium height and with black hair, the beginnings of a mustache starting to grow in. He didn’t look like a vicious offender, but a good ninety-percent of the prisoners she’d read about were violent.
“What do we have here?” he said, looking around the office, and then shutting the door behind him. He turned the deadbolt, locking them in.
She swallowed and wondered if she could talk her way out of the room. It wouldn’t hurt to be prepared for anything though, so she glanced around for a potential weapon. Sarah pictured herself hitting him over the head with a stapler and her heart sank.
The man took a few slow steps in her direction. “What are you doing in here?”
“I was looking for Benny,” she replied and moved behind the desk.
“And you thought he might be inside the filing cabinet?”
Sarah shook her head. Her instincts screamed at her to run, but she’d never get to the door, unlatch it, and escape without him stopping her. If only her ability worked in reverse, she could have mentally shouted for help.
She continued moving around the desk, and he mirrored her every move in a slow-motion dance of predator and prey. Studying him for possible weaknesses and not seeing any, she desperately hoped she could talk her way out of her predicament. Sarah had some basic combat training, but a sinking feeling told her he had plenty of real-world experience with fighting.
“My friends are expecting me back any second,” she said. “Maybe you can let Benny know I’m looking for him.”
His gaze dropped to her chest and then fell lower before coming back up to her face. “I think maybe you should give me something first. A girl who goes wandering around a prison by herself, where none of the inmates are locked up, is either stupid or has something to offer,” he said with a leer. “Let’s not make this any harder than it has to be.”
Reed was having his death sleep, but Nathaniel was awake. If she screamed for him, would he hear her? Vampires had better hearing than humans did, but he was in a room at the end of a very long hallway. On top of that, her voice would have to carry through not one, but two closed doors.
She took a deep breath so she could yell as loudly as she could. The man leaped over the desk and tackled her, knocking her breath out as they fell to the floor.
Sarah’s heart rate shot into the stratosphere as adrenaline burst through her veins.
He struggled to hold her down, but she fought to keep her arms free. She reached up to jam her thumb into his eye. He turned away, slapping her hand aside.
Sarah braced her foot against the floor and prepared to lift her knee forcefully into his groin. He foiled her attempt by straddling her waist and sitting on her legs. He tried to grab her wrists, but she thrashed about, preventing him from getting a grip. Finally securing her left wrist in one hand, he pushed her arm to the floor and tried to grab her other arm. Sarah was able to twist enough so she could use her free hand to reach his fingers and pry one back. She yanked hard. There was an audible crack when she broke his finger and he let out a howl.
Lashing out with his other hand, he smacked the side of her mouth. She felt her lip split open. The taste of her own blood filled her mouth and she couldn’t help the sob that escaped.
His eyes flashed and he snarled like an animal. He fumbled to grab the waistband of her jeans with his good hand. Sarah reached down and squeezed him between the legs as hard as she could. It was the oldest trick in the book because it worked. He immediately crumpled over, hollering and swearing.
Sarah scrambled onto her hands and knees and started to crawl away. A hand clamped onto her ankle, pulling her back. She snatched up the only thing she could get her hands on–a shoe–and hit him on the head.
Unfazed, he pushed her down flat on the floor, her face squashed against the cool concrete.
“I was gonna let you go after I finished having some fun with you,” he growled in her ear. “But now I’m gonna have to kill you, you dumb bitch.”
What good was her stupid ability to read minds if she couldn’t even save herself? If anyone else were in trouble, she’d hear their mental cries for help, but she was all on her own.
“Please, you have to let me go,” she pleaded. “Otherwise, my boyfriend is going to rip you to shreds. Literally.”
“Enough talking!” he snarled and grabbed a fistful of her hair.
She hated that she’d been unable to defeat him on her own, but she really needed a hand.
“Help!” she screamed loudly enough to rip her vocal cords from her throat. A meaty hand clapped over Sarah’s mouth, muffling her cries, and she prayed someone had heard her.
Reed
I opened my eyes and a bare white ceiling stared back at me. I rolled onto my side, the cold of the concrete floor seeping into my skin. Nathaniel crouched a few feet away, his dark eyes boring a hole into me.
“Have you been staring at me the whole time?” I asked.
Nathaniel blinked. “I apologize,” he said.
“Does that mean, ‘Yes, I was staring at you’?” I shook my head and waved off whatever answer he might’ve said. A thought poked at the back of my brain; there was something I’d wanted to ask him when we were alone. Oh, yeah. The vampire birds and bees talk.
“Hey, Nathaniel? Can I ask you something?” Crap, my face was heating up already.
His eyebrows lifted. “Of course. Ask me anything you wish.”
I stared at a scuffmark on the floor. “Um . . . is it possible for a vampire to get someone pregnant?”
“No.”
My gaze jerked back up to his face. “No? That’s it?”
“A vampire cannot procreate; we can only increase our numbers by turning a human into a vampire. You cannot father children, nor can a female vampire birth a child. Not with humans, nor with other vampires. There are no born vampires; all vampires were once human.”
“Oh.” In a way, it was a relief; an unwanted pregnancy right now would be a disaster. But on the other hand, I might never have any kids. Not that I’d ever given it much thought because it was something I had imagined far off in the future. The kind of thing I’d assumed would happen someday.
“I don’t suppose I might be an exception to the rule,” I said. “You know, since I’m different in other ways.”
“I doubt it,” Nathaniel said. “But you may be right. The only exception I can think of from our history is the original vampire.”
I perked up instantly. “The original vampire?”
“Yes. It is said that between two and three thousand years ago, the original vampire was born. He was a human, either born with a gene mutation, or he contracted an illness, which manifested symptoms including a thirst for blood, a sun allergy, and other traits associated with vampirism. The original vampire went on to infect others with his blood. Every vampire can trace their lineage back to him.”
“Wow, that’s cool. How do you know about him? Is there some sort of vampire bible?”
Nathaniel smiled. “No, but the information has almost certainly been distorted over time, passed down through generations by word of mouth. Some believe the story of our origin to be the absolute truth, and not mere myth. There is one part to the story in particular, however, which may be fictitious nonsense . . . or not.”
I had the feeling Nathaniel enjoyed telling me this tale. “And?”
“It is rumored that by destroying the original vampire, all existing vampires world-wide would become human again.”
“Wai
t a minute, I’m confused. Didn’t the original vampire die ages and ages ago? How can you destroy him if he’s already dead?”
“They say the original vampire rests in stasis, most likely in Africa, possibly Egypt.”
I crossed my arms over my chest. “Are you saying he’s still alive after thousands of years? You told me vampires went nuts after four hundred years or so, and met the sun on purpose or were killed by other vampires.”
“If the original vampire truly exists, he would not be conscious or remotely human in appearance. Most likely, he has been preserved in a mummified state, and his whereabouts are unknown. The majority of vampires do not wish to be human again; they relish their increased speed and strength, perpetual good health, and extended lifetimes. For this reason, his location has been kept secret. A well-protected secret that may be lost forever.”
I paused, collecting my thoughts. “So . . . if you became human again, for example, would you instantly age to your two hundred plus years? I mean, humans can’t live that long, so would you age immediately and shrivel up and die, or would you start where you left off at twenty or thirty something? How old did you say you were when you were turned?”
“Twenty-eight,” Nathaniel answered. “And no, I would not shrivel up and die instantly.” He shivered.
A muffled scream interrupted our conversation. “Help!”
It was Sarah.
I leapt to my feet and dashed out the door. Her shout had come from down the hall, in the direction of Benny’s office. I raced ahead, Nathaniel a millisecond behind.
The smell of fear and adrenaline assaulted my nose, and there were sounds of a struggle. My fangs ripped out of my gums as I bashed into the office. The door fell off its hinges and the glass pane shattered as it crashed onto the floor to my right.
A creep in one of those orange jumpsuits had Sarah pressed face-down on the floor. When he saw me with fangs on full display, his eyes bugged wide open.
