by C. N. Owens
“I guess we know who killed all those people on 664,” I say.
“I saw that on the news. They said it was a multicar collision,” Cassie says.
“They were candy-coating it,” Nate says.
“Candy-coating?”
Nate sighs. “They refused to make it look as bad as it actually was. If they had, there would have been a panic. The truth? It was a slaughter.”
“How many dead?”
“Twenty-eight. They all suffered incredible tissue damage, limb amputations—you see where I’m headed.”
“What did the wounds look like?”
“Ragged, random. The flesh was ripped, not cut.”
Cassie looks in my direction but focuses on nothing, once again lost in thought. “We’re all in danger. You know, the original reason I went to that place on Monticello was to find that silver-haired girl.”
“Wait, you already knew where she was,” I say.
“Yes, but it was just a formality. I didn’t want Raoul to know that we know about her, not yet.”
“What does he want with her?” I ask.
Cassie bites her lip, thinking about her response for a long time. “Something terrible.”
Nate slides his pictures back into the envelope and tosses them onto a chair. “Well, you can forget taking her now. She’s locked down and safe.”
I wave Nate away. “Cassie, quit stalling. What does he want with her?”
“I’ll explain everything soon.”
“Well, we can’t leave her up there if Raoul is after her. He bit me, so you know what he had to have seen from my blood. He probably knows everything, now.”
Cassie nods. “Both of you leave tomorrow, after sunrise.”
“Daylight didn’t stop him last time,” I say.
“I know, but we are as good as dead at night. We must make it through this night.”
“I’ll double security in the hospital,” Nate adds.
“Don’t bother. You will serve up more people for slaughter.”
“Cassie, go on and stand watch over her. I’m sure Raoul doesn’t see me as a priority,” I say.
She bats her eyes and smiles. “I’ll not leave her side until we can get her somewhere safe. You can count on me, my love.” She brushes my cheek with her hand.
“That’s my girl.”
“Thank you for giving me another chance. I can’t wait to get you out of here. Andrea and I will take good care of you.”
“Oh, great.”
“I promise!” she cries. “I’ve changed. You’ll see.”
“I guess I have no choice in this.”
Nate strokes his chin. “I can’t imagine a safer place for you to be than with a vampire.” He chuckles. “I can’t believe I just said that.”
“Whatever. You’re feeding me to a couple of piranhas. I hope you know this.”
Cassie gasps, her mouth agape. “It won’t be that bad. Perhaps we can hit the reset button, as you so eloquently put it the other night.”
“Too soon. You have a lot of making up to do.”
***
Leila
“I’ll handle it,” a male voice says.
Handle what? I wonder, as my eyes slide open. I wake to see a giant of a man standing at the left side of my bed. Behind him, I see a flash of a blonde-haired female exiting the room.
“Don’t be frightened. My name is Benedictus Santiago, but you can call me Bento. I’m so happy to finally meet you,” he says with a deep voice that seems to resonate from the pit of his stomach. His chiseled face twists into a pleasant smile, but beneath the veneer, I see something else.
“Liar, you see me the same way everyone else does… a curiosity… a freak.”
He laughs, but it sounds more like a growling bear. “I had a feeling I wouldn’t be able to hide my thoughts from you. Although I may be taken aback by your appearance, you shouldn’t be offended. Your injuries will heal, and the moment we lay eyes on each other in our transcendent forms, instinct will take over and the bond will be unbreakable.” He goes silent as I try to determine if this man is lying, but somehow, I can tell he’s not.
“What?” I ask.
“Strange things happened to you the other night, did they not?” Bento steps closer, takes my hand, and like an electrical storm, images flash in the core of my mind. I’m sitting in a grassy field with the wind at my back. In the dim light of a violet sky, I cradle a gray-skinned, imp-like creature in my arms. It suckles at my breast and I know it’s my baby. Beside me, a grotesque massive wolf stands, protecting us. Its skin is black and shiny with fluids that weep from random wounds covering its body.
I snatch my hand away. “What was that?”
He laughs quietly. “You don’t know?”
“I wouldn’t ask if I did.”
“Us… the future… of the world.” He smiles. “Our child will wield the power of our creator. Have you had the dreams?”
“Dreams,” I mumble, recalling nightmares going as far back as my early teens. “And if I say no?”
“You can’t refuse.”
“But I can put up a fight,” I say, feeling my skin flush and the pain of my injuries fading. I crawl backward, not sure where I’m going, only wanting more distance from this monster in front of me.
“Oh, yes, please shift!” he yells, seeming as though he would like nothing more.
I hammer the call button and jump out of bed. The light comes on but does nothing. My feet slap the floor, and like before, I feel taller, stronger.
“Stay away from me!” I roar, slinking backward and hitting the code-blue alert on the wall. An alarm goes off outside, and seconds later a red-haired man comes in, holding a nurse by the back of her neck.
“Is she not cooperating?”
“No, lord.”
“Child, my name is Raoul. You must join us; you have no other choice.”
“There’s always a choice.”
He looks back at me, and with a snarl, he twists the nurse’s head around. She lets out a groan, and her neck crunches as her chin touches her spine. “See what you’ve done?” he says, his attention back on me after killing the woman. “This is just the beginning of the innocent people that will die tonight.”
“I don’t care. I’m not going with you.”
He lets out a growl and hurries over the nurse’s twitching body toward me. On the way, he produces something from his pocket and presses it to my forehead. Energy in the form of white heat passes through the small object into my head and radiates outward through my body. I drop to my knees and heave with such force it sounds like a growl… It’s coming again. My open hands slap the cold, hard floor, and already, I can feel claws forming at the tips of my fingers.
“So, I’m one of those things?” I ask, cringing at the acidic taste of my dinner rising in the back of my throat.
“You are the future of the world,” Raoul says, leaning over and looking at me with his hands resting on his knees.
“Don’t go far,” I say.
“I will be right here, sweetheart,” Raoul says.
“Good, I’m killing you first.”
***
Trent
I wake to a shuddering sensation and struggle to sit up. Another shudder, the building moans, and then the lights flicker and go dim. Outside my room, there is screaming, hurried footsteps, gunshots… the sounds of chaos.
I lower the bed rail with my good hand to the sounds of more gunfire and a grating sound as though someone is using a grinder on the tile floor above.
I take a deep breath and drop my feet off the edge of the bed. My head won’t stop spinning. I haven’t tried to walk since I got out of surgery. Thank God, they removed the catheter.
Another explosion-like bang from above. Without thinking, I slip out of bed and collapse like a rag doll. In my haste, I forgot to unhook the IV line, so the needle tears out when it runs out of slack, leaving a bloody tear in my arm
.
I spend a few minutes on the floor… I think. I may have blacked out, but right now, I could throw up from the pain in my shoulder. Another bang and then a galloping that shakes the ceiling, like a lumbering buffalo stampeding through the halls. I have a good idea who it is and who he might be coming for.
A few more minutes pass, and I finally get the strength to climb to my feet. I wobble out of the room, dizzy, head pounding, and slide around the door as pandemonium unfolds around me: nurses cowering under their desks, patients screaming and yelling.
Another shudder. The source is upstairs.
“Sir, we are under attack. Get back to your room!” a nurse yells from behind her desk. I don’t bother to look back, and I hobble into the elevator.
“Please be okay, please,” I whisper.
The elevator shivers and groans. I don’t know what I’m going to do, but I can’t just do nothing while that creature is on the same floor as her.
The elevator makes a cheery ding when it reaches its destination, and the double doors glide open to a scene resembling hell on earth.
More gunfire, bodies strewn about, torn to pieces. The air smells acrid with the odor of burning hair and gunpowder. I tiptoe left, trying to sneak around to Leila’s room to see what’s happening. A hellish roar fills the corridor. With nowhere to hide, I back up against a wall next to a firebox and bust the glass during another roar. From inside, I grab the extinguisher.
Favoring my shoulder, I push myself away from the wall, creep to the corner, and peek down a short hallway that joins the two corridors. Among the scattered destruction, Cassie is gone, but I see Raoul. He’s clutching a young patient in his arm, feeding on her. The tiny girl’s arm twitches—a vain attempt to struggle—and goes limp.
Victim discarded, the vampire walks into Leila’s room. Another explosion shakes the building, and then there’s nothing, only the sound of bustling traffic from the road outside.
I wait for a moment and walk slowly toward the room, noticing the outside noises growing louder.
“Sir!” a nurse yells, but I ignore her. I walk to the door, letting the fire extinguisher slide out of my hand, and fall to my knees when I discover a room full of blood and death.
On the far wall, a gaping hole spans from floor to ceiling. I don’t even bother to see who or what may have hit the ground outside, several stories below.
Chapter 14
Trent
“Agent LaPore.”
I wake to a slap on the cheek. My eyes sting in the bright sunlight from the window. A man stands over me on the left side of the bed. He’s wearing a dark-blue polo shirt with a gold badge embroidered over his left breast.
“My field officer is finally checking in,” I say. The cavalry has finally arrived, I realize, when I look around and see four armed soldiers surrounding him and Nate standing behind them all.
“John Williams.” The man reaches over the rail and shakes my left hand.
“I hope Detective Jordan has brought you up to speed.”
“We’re getting close. Agents are securing the hospital, and the good detective has been kind enough to offer you a ride to the airport.”
“I’ve packed your things, bud,” Nathan adds.
“Wait, you can’t take me out of this now. I’m too involved.”
“That wouldn’t be a problem, but you’re injured. It’s too hot here. We are pulling you out until you’re medically cleared.”
“I can’t leave now. Where are you sending me?”
“Home, eight hundred miles away. That’s far enough for me.”
“No way, you can’t do this to me now—”
“It’s already done,” Williams says, barking like a drill sergeant. “You running around with a busted shoulder is going to do nothing but put us at risk and get you killed. You are no good to us like this. Go home and heal. We already have another asset assigned to the case.”
“Well, can I at least have lunch?” I ask facetiously.
“Negative. Your evac orders are immediate. Your flight departs in three hours from Patrick Henry Field—you leave right now to catch that plane.”
Nate walks around and helps me out of the bed and into the bathroom to get dressed. I come out a few minutes later and slide gingerly into a wheelchair.
Agent Williams walks up to me and takes my left hand one last time. “I hate doing this to you. Get healed. I’m sure there will be plenty of action left.”
“Yeah, thanks,” I reply, wishing this guy understood my personal involvement in this.
***
“So, did you see her die? With your own eyes?” Nate asks as he pilots his cruiser down Brambleton Avenue.
“No, thank God,” I say, while sifting through a stack of medical referrals and doctors’ orders.
“Then she might still be alive.”
“Doubtful. If you saw the room, you wouldn’t have much faith,” I reply, remembering that sweet girl’s smile and how last time I saw her, even though she looked full of hope, she was lost, unsure how to act in the real world. I still can’t believe what she is, and how someone who looks so helpless could harbor so much evil.
“We can’t think like that.”
“How? Her hair was all over the floor, the walls, stuck in her blood.”
“I’m sorry,” he says, buying my story completely.
“It was all for nothing, and now, on top of that, there is nothing I can do about it, no recourse.”
“Nurse that shoulder, and come back ready for them.”
“Yeah,” I say, unable to take him seriously.
“How do you know about all these people… Bento?”
“Through Cassie. We ran into them years ago.”
“Understood.”
“Drop me off at Cassie’s.”
“About that.”
All the blood rushes out of my face. Remembering my phone, I grab it and find it blinking. It’s a text from Cassie: We are in trouble, I had to escape. If you find her, do everything you can to keep her safe. I will catch up with you at your home as soon as I can.
“Don’t mess with me, Nate.”
I can see him gripping the steering wheel a little tighter. “What about your orders?”
“Fuck my orders. Get on Route 17.”
Nate lets out a deep sigh. “You got it.”
***
Even from miles away, I can see something that gives me a panicked, ominous feeling in the pit of my stomach: a column of white smoke climbing into the sky in the direction of our destination.
The heavy iron gates at the entrance to her house are warped and wrapped around the stone walls on either side, and at the end of the driveway, everything—the majestic Victorian, the barn, even the little red sharecropper houses—are charred and blackened.
Shiny bits of red, black, and blue, the battered remnants of Cassie’s collection of exotic cars, peek out from underneath the charred remains of the barn.
“Trent, I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything.” I turn my back to Nate, facing what’s left of the house, my mind flooded with questions. “Any bodies?” The question escapes my lips, even though I dread asking.
“Three men, torn to shreds, but no others.”
“I assume the rubble was searched?”
“Trent, Cassie is alive. Three people were killed; they were found in the field. Who else could have done that?”
“I can think of many others. Again, were the house and the outbuildings searched?”
“Yes, thoroughly.”
I sigh. “Why do I have my doubts?”
Nate leans against his unmarked patrol car. “Because that’s who you are.” He pauses, watching me, and then stands again and turns, looking at the barn. “When I heard the report of the blaze, I came out here as fast as I could. It was late last night, around three a.m., and firefighters were already working on the blaze. It wasn’t five minute
s after getting here before I saw multiple shadows following the shoreline, heading east. They moved so fast I lost sight of them in seconds.”
“The M5.” I hurry to the barn to look for her favorite car, and there it sits, half-consumed by the blaze. The fire was so hot, the back tires and the paint are almost burned away. The rest of the cars don’t look too bad.
“I saw that, too. I pressed investigators to look everywhere for bodies. They even used cadaver dogs. They found nothing besides the men out in the field. If they got away, they did it on foot. I’m betting it was them I saw racing along the shoreline. It had to be.”
“Not with Andrea, she would slow Cassie down—those corpses must have been the ones who did this.”
“We’re still gathering evidence. I volunteered to help the assigned investigator in my personal time. We’ll find some answers. It’s just going to take time.”
“Yeah, time,” I say, and walk into the barn.
“You know that building could collapse at any second, right?”
“Yep,” I say, walking toward the source of a shape I saw out the corner of my eye. “Just stay there.” I freeze when I hear a growl. The barn goes silent, aside from the crackling pop of smoldering wood. Another congested, burbling growl and my heart stops. I draw my gun.
“Trent.”
“Yeah, she’s in here, looking right at me.”
A beast, with the muscular body of a gorilla and the face of a wolf, stares me down with bright yellow eyes, glowing as if they emit their own light. From outside, Nate blips the siren in his patrol car, and, like a bear, the monster rises onto her hind legs and snarls, easily twelve feet tall. I glance down quickly between her legs… yep, definitely a female—Leila. Female werewolves have vestigial teats, and their genitals are doglike in this form, so it’s easy to tell.
“Nate, you trying to get me killed?” I back away and she follows, curiously sniffing the air. Yellow pus drips from her infectious maw in long, viscous strings.
“Hey!” Nate yells from the entrance.
Her skin is grayish and opaque. Beneath are the colors of red and yellow from the branching muscle and veins underneath. Nate opens fire, and she dives for me, slashing my chest open with a single swat. I slam to the ground and fire as fast as I can until the mag goes empty, but she’s gone before I can realize what even happened.
