Slayer Trials: Urban Fantasy (Hidden Vampire Slayers Book 2)

by H. J. Lawson

  “What else have they got?” I ask him. He smiles at me, and a glimmer of light enters his brown eyes; he’s clearly grateful for the question.

  We did a science project together years ago; he seemed like a nice kid, quiet. He’s a little bit taller than me, I’m guessing 5’4”. The way he carries himself, with his head down, makes him look smaller, which isn’t good for a boy who’s already on the small side.

  “The train is full of kids. It's a private train for us going to Sector 105. The front of the train past these food cars is locked off—there are guards stopping us from going down there,” Roslin says breathlessly.

  “Maybe they are there to stop kids like you from bothering the train driver,” Ryder says; he’s not impressed with our new friend.

  “If you don’t have any useful information, get lost,” Ryder says, waving his thumb back to another group of seats.

  “Nice friend you’ve got, Sadie,” he says, leaving.

  “Jesus, Ryder. Do you always have to be a jerk?”

  “Shut up, Sadie,” he said.

  “You shut up. The poor kid’s on his own.”

  “Do I look like I care?” Ryder snaps.

  “I’m done with this.” I get to my feet, grabbing hold of my wrapped-up toast and water bottle.

  “Sadie, wait,” I hear Lakia say as I exit the food car; I’m too tired to argue with Ryder.

  I march down the hallway to my suite. I grip hold of my water bottle and squeeze it tightly—too tightly. The lid pops off and water squirts out of the top, splashing onto the wall and floor, and the bottle slips from my fingers.

  I reach down and retrieve the water bottle and the lid from the floor; there are only a few drops left.

  Frigging hell, I’m not going back in to get another bottle. Looks like tap water till the next mealtime.

  The emotions start to bubble up inside of me. Not here … not now … Hold the emotions in. Wait till I get to my suite.

  I take off, running to my suite, past door after door. How many kids do they have here?

  There were at least thirty kids in the food car; how many other food cars are there on this train?

  When I got to the train with Blake, everything was a blur. I should have at least looked to see how many other cars there were.

  I push open my train suite door, my new home.

  Chapter Five

  “Wait.” A piercing scream comes from outside of the train.

  I jump up and search for my stake. My mind feels heavy … I was asleep and I didn’t have nightmares. Nothing, until now, but this is not a nightmare, I am awake.

  My stake is on the table. I grab it and wrap my fingers around it. I look out the window, where the scream came from.

  It's a terrified girl. She’s running toward the train, which is moving slowly, as if we just stopped.

  Behind her there is a pack of people chasing her. It's a pack of vampires. Where is her guardian?

  I slam my fist against the window; she sees me.

  Her eyes are wide open, whites bulging, and she has raw, bloody gashes across her face. Her clothes are ripped as if she has just survived a brutal attack.

  “Stop the train,” she screams.

  I run out of my suite and into the hallway.

  “Stop the train,” I scream as I run, but there is no one around. The hallway is empty. My heart races as fast as the train is moving away from the girl.

  “Why are you awake?” a guard says as I turn a corner and he spots me.

  “Stop the train,” I repeat, running in his direction. “Stop the frigging train. A girl is being chased down by vampires, we have to help her.” He stands there as if shocked to see me, then turns and walks away from me.

  “Stop—the girl,” I scream as I grip hold of his shoulder and pull him around to face me.

  He spins around to face me, then swiftly raises his arm and jabs me in the neck with a syringe. He injected something into my neck. Whatever it is takes effect instantly.

  The train hallway starts rocking from side to side as if I’m on a boat, not a train. My feet feel like they are heavy weights sinking into the floor. My body slams up against the train wall as if I’m drunk; I lean up against it, using it as a guide. I have to get back to my suite … the girl.

  Curling my hands around the cold metal door frame, I peer into my suite.

  There are people—no, vampires—running along the side of the train, outside my window.

  One of them turns and faces me: an overgrown vampire. He smiles and reveals his sharp white fangs …

  “You’re next ...” I read from his lips as he sprints forward with the others.

  “Help me.” Pleading screams sneak through the gap in the window.

  I stagger toward the window. The smell of rotting death fills the room. My head tilts sideways. Bile flies out of my mouth and I vomit onto the floor.

  I can feel myself drifting in and out of darkness. Don’t stop moving.

  I kneel on the seat and slam my hands on the window. The vampires have stopped moving.

  As the train approaches them, heads turn to face me. Their faces are covered in crimson red blood that glows in the sunlight. The girl’s body is in the middle of them, with blood seeping from every vein.

  It feels like the train has slowed down, so I can get a clear view of the horror in front of me. They look as though they are smiling at me, like hunters proud of their kill.

  A bloody hand slams up against my window. I shriek in fear, diving backward, backward, and land on the floor. My head crashes against the door. Stars appear in the corners of my eyes, followed by darkness ...

  “Sadie.” I can her a soft female voice. “Sadie, time to wake up, we are nearly here,” the voice adds.

  I can see the redness through my eyelids; it feels like I'm in a bright room.

  Gently I open my eyes, trying not to blind myself with the light. There is a lady leaning over me, rubbing my arm to wake me.

  “Ah, just in time,” she says, and warmth travels up to her eyes as she smiles.

  She has a white coat on over her clothes.

  “You took a nasty fall,” she says with a concerned look on her face.

  “A fall?” I question.

  I raise my hand to my head, I can feel a bandage. I don't remember falling. It must have been some force. A little shooting pain runs up my shoulder, like a bolt of lightning has traveled through my body. I must have landed on my side.

  “You will recover from these injures quickly,” she states as she looks at a handheld computer.

  “Can you continue?” she says in a flat robot tone, like her emotions are gone.

  “Continue?” I ask.

  “With the training,” she says flatly.

  “What if I can’t?” I look her straight in the eye because I want to see her reaction.

  Her eyes bulge just a little as she looks upward, then flicker back. What is she looking at?

  “Please wait until you get to Sector 105 before you make your decision. I know you will make the right choice,” she says as she puts the handheld computer down.

  “You are free to leave when you are ready. We will be stopping in a few minutes,” she adds as a smile appears on her face. This time it doesn’t reach her eyes. With that she leaves the room.

  Leaving me alone with my thoughts.

  I look around the windowless room for a mirror. On a side table there are tools like the kind dentists use to look inside your mouth, along with a mirror that’s about the size of a quarter.

  As I jump down off the bed, the paper rustles beneath me. My legs feel like jelly. How long have I been knocked out for? There are no clocks in the room; it has the familiar splattered gray walls. How can there not be one single clock on this whole train?

  My eyes stop in the corner of the room, where the doctor’s eyes rested. There is a speaker like the one in my room, splattered with gray paint.

  As I stare at it deeply, inside it, I can see a red light. I push the l
one chair near the speaker and step up on it. My legs are still a bit wobbly, so I lean on the wall for support.

  Standing on tiptoe, I can just see in. There is a small black box with a red light on top.

  Quickly I jump down. Damn … it's a camera. Why do they have hidden cameras? What are they looking for? If they were for our protection, which I would understand, they wouldn’t be hidden. There would be no reason to hide them—unless they are watching us. Not the vampires.

  Jesus, and there I was giving whoever is watching a full blown view of my face. They are going to be watching me now ... even more than they already were.

  I need to get out of here.

  I grab my jacket off the chair and slip it over my shoulders, stopping me from feeling quite so naked in front of them. Whoever they are ... Sadie, stop being so paranoid, I tell myself, shaking my head. There must be a reason for it. Protection—there is a train full of kids being hunted by vampires. I turn away from the camera and laugh ... my concerns are laughable. If it wasn't for the government, I would be dead.

  Chapter Six

  Time to find out what Sector 105 is all about. I lean back in my seat. I feel like I haven't eaten for a day. I unwrap my toast from this morning’s breakfast. It's hard as stone. I break a piece off and chew. It tastes like wood bark. How long was I out for? I keep eating, chewing like a cow as I gaze at the view.

  I haven't got a clue where we are. The landscape is empty: no houses, no roads, just dry, dusty desert, mile after mile of nothing. Wherever we are going it looks like they don't want anyone to find us.

  Which is a good thing, because I don't want any more vampires chasing after me.

  Something catches my eye. I lean on the window and press my head up against the cold glass.

  It looks like a smear of blood. I hesitate, then run my finger across the glass. It's smooth and cold; the blood is on the outside.

  Examining it more closely, it seems like someone has tried to clean it off—there are dust-covered water smears.

  I take a deep breath; I can't smell vampires. Thank God! But there is a faint chemical scent of cleaning product.

  Sniffing deeply in the direction of the smell, I realize it gets stronger on the carpet. I push my finger down on the carpet. It's damp, as if it's been cleaned ... but not recently.

  A crackle comes from the speaker, then it beeps like it's an alarm clock. I wrap my hands over my ears to block out the sound. Then it stops for a moment.

  "Ladies and gentlemen, we have reached Sector 105. Please gather your belongings. When the train stops, please exit your suite and stand outside it. The guards will escort you from there. Welcome to Sector 105.”

  Sector 105 looks like an abandoned metal building or an old army base.

  The train grinds to a halt, and part of me wants to stay in my suite, hidden away from danger. The other part wants to run, run free of this nightmare.

  I know I have no choice: I have to get off.

  I grab my stake off the table—it's all I own and it's coming with me. Under my black uniform I am wearing Aaron’s t-shirt with the last of his scent; it's the only piece of him I have left. I just wish it didn’t also have the vampire’s blood splattered on it—another reminder of that night.

  He will be here soon. With that thought running through my mind, I exit the suite, stepping over the damp ground as I do, wondering, what did I spill?

  Other people are standing outside their suites. Everyone obeyed the request very easily. What else can we do?

  I stand leaning up against the wall, and wait.

  A boy around Aaron's age exits the suite next to mine.

  "Hey, this is crazy," he says, widening his brown eyes, which fit perfectly with his warm brown complexion.

  "Yeah," I mutter, not really sure what else to say.

  Luckily he does. "I'm Kai," he says, smiling. I’ve never seen this kid at my school before.

  “I’m Sadie. Do you go to Edison?” It’s the other high school in our area.

  “Yeah, guess you went to Liberty,” he adds; I nod.

  Both schools are arch-rivals in sports and other things. God only knows what it’s going to be like with both schools under the same roof, but I have a feeling that will be the least of our worries.

  A guard appears at the end of the hallway. “Follow me,” he says firmly as he grips hold of his gun and exits the trains.

  I take a deep breath in. “Here goes nothing,” I say as I glance over to Kai; he gives me a warm smile.

  “I think the worst is over,” he says. I hope he’s right.

  There is a thunderous hum as boots stomp out of the train cars and onto the ground. I can feel the hot, dry air as I step off the train.

  There must be, like, one hundred kids exiting the train. There are so many kids here. I look down to find the end of the train, but I can’t see it—it looks like the train goes on forever.

  There is red dust covering the ground. I shake my head … for some reason I think it's Utah—that would have taken us a day to get to.

  “Where are we?” Kai says as he stands next to me.

  “I think … Utah,” I say slowly, worried that he will laugh at my answer, but he doesn’t.

  Someone else does. “Utah! Stupid kid,” a guy in front of me laughs as he nudges his friend in the ribs.

  “Whatever,” I say.

  There is the sound of movement in front of us. I crane my neck but I cannot see past the sea of black tops in front of me.

  “What’s going on?” I ask Kai; he’s taller than me, and hopefully he can see.

  His head leans from side to side as he looks past other people. “It looks like the guards are running toward a building; I guess that’s Sector 105,” he says, then adds, “Looks like we have to run this part.”

  I don’t know why I thought there would be trucks to pick us up. Of course they want us to run, just like we had to run to catch the train. It's a good thing I like running, and the quicker I get there, the quicker I can call my loved ones.

  “Race you,” I say to Kai as I squeeze through the standing bodies, those clearly not keen to run.

  I am—I feel—free … especially in this open space, off the train.

  In front of me I can see the guards. I could catch up to them, but I don’t.

  Sector 105 stands all on its own, and it’s weird how there are no roads leading to it.

  Sharp shooting pains fly up my shins from not warming up.

  It's like my movement was the starting gun for a race; I can hear heavy boots stomping down on the hard ground behind me. I don’t know whether to run to the side, away from the oncoming crowd that will no doubt crush me.

  They are not going to do that. I shake my head and push forwards. As though my legs can sense the urgency, they pick up speed. They feel like the engine of a train, driving forward at any cost … not stopping for anyone or anything.

  A cloud of red dust obscures the air around me. I place my hand over my mouth, but not quickly enough. I can feel the chalky dusty taste in my mouth, and my lungs feel heavy with the alien molecules inside of them.

  I cannot see anything around me, just feel the pressure of all the bodies stealing my air.

  My lungs burn from the dust molecules as the pack comes to a halt. I move to the edge of the group; this will be the best way to see what’s happening.

  I look up and down the rows of kids.

  Ryder’s head pops up over the crowd. Thank God for his height; I would never have seen Lakia in this crowd. I will go over to them once I see what’s going on.

  The guards are standing in front of Sector 105 with their guns in their hands; they don’t even look out of breath, no trace of sweat on them.

  Sector 105 has huge doors, like garage doors, that is, if a car was the same size as a plane. It's a plane hangar—there must be a runway. Not much good that will do, it's not like I can fly a plane.

  The building itself goes on as far as the eye can see, blurring with the heat of th
e desert, making it look surreal.

  The burning sun beams down onto my black outfit, which was clearly not designed for these conditions. White would have been so much better, to bounce the rays away. I can only hope that any type of training will be indoors, out of this energy-zapping heat. I think for a moment about taking off the heavy layers of black clothing and just wearing Aaron’s t-shirt; I would if it wasn’t stained with blood.

  Others in the group beside me are, in stark contrast to the guards, dripping with sweat, panting with their hands on their hips.

  Kai stands next to me, and like me he’s not out of breath, though sweat is trickling down his face. He wipes the back of his hand across his forehead.

  One of the hangar doors creaks as metal connects with metal and it opens up—only to reveal darkness, as if the building is so big it creates a shadow, blocking the sunshine from the inside.

  After a few moments of silence a figure appears in the darkness. It looks like a lady with guards on either side of her.

  She steps forward out of the building and into the sunlight; one of the guards holds a black umbrella over her head.

  She's a petite lady, maybe about my size. Her hair is jet black, with full bangs over her dark brown almond-shaped eyes.

  Her clothes look out of place in our surroundings: a white silk blouse, black skirt, and heels—all tailored and high-end. It’s clear she has no intention of staying here.

  "Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the training sector," she says almost joyfully.

  She raises her finger to her deep red lips, which match her fingernails, to indicate for us to be quiet, and everyone obeys. Then she points her finger to a guard from our train. He moves instantly to her side.

  He holds out the handheld computer to her; she takes it. Her deep red lips don’t turn into a grateful smile or a thank you, they just stay in a thin, pursed line. Instantly, I dislike her.

  “Ninety-seven,” she says as she looks over the crowd of people in front of her. There must be ninety-seven of us. She nods firmly, her black hair bobbing up and down, like she was expecting that number.