by Chanel Smith
Petra was beginning to understand, however vaguely. “So when this bacteria and some kind of DNA entered you, it sort of clicked with another DNA and created a whole bunch of smart bacteria in that mist.”
“Sentient disease, the Doctor Art says. It came back first time, showed me picture of swamp with dead fish and birds. Same picture many times like asking. I didn’t do a thing so it left. Came back later showed picture of swamp, then of New Orleans – then of a big mist, then two small ones. Strange. Doctor Art thinks it learned that the more it kills the stronger it gets, then it makes another of itself and it came to show off.”
“God,” Petra said. “That gives me the shivers. A smart disease that grows from killing? Great. Just great.”
“Ergo, I give Antoine to you, smart bugs and all,” Elinor said. “Never say I didn’t give you anything.” She gave a small, wry grin. “Antoine, get her home and this time try not to kill the fucking world while you’re at it.”
Elinor stood and left the table, never looking back.
Chapter Seventeen
In a blink, they were stepping at a quick pace across her manicured Louisiana lawn. Back at Heureuse, Petra introduced Antoine to Cilla and Joseph. Then she called a pack meeting, with all three vampires in attendance.
When the Pack was assembled, she said, “I’ve learned about this disease. How it started, what it is. Not how to stop it! But maybe if we all know this strange story, we can come up with answers.” And she told the story as she knew it, hiding only Elinor’s identity. That she might be able to use, one day, if it became necessary.
When she was finished with the convoluted tale, there was dead silence for a while as everyone mulled over what she’d said.
“The Illuminati told me something about blood; blood to blood. They mentioned Joseph, too,” Raya said. “What could that even mean?”
A wound spontaneously opened on Joseph’s arm, and blood oozed out for several moments while the group stared in fascination. As quickly as it had opened, the wound closed.
Raya stared at where the wound had been, a puzzled look on his face.
“What does that mean?”
“You asked for a cure, it looks like my blood is the answer,” Joseph said.
“Assuming you’re right and your blood is the cure, we need to test this out,” Petra said. “How on earth do we do that?”
“Half the damn city is sick,” Itchiko volunteered. “The mayor asked everyone who has the illness in their house to put a red bow on their door, so as not to infect the mail man and so on. We find a sick family and test there.”
“That’s a great idea,” Raya said. “We’ll take a vial of Joseph’s blood with us.”
“No! You need me in person,” Joseph protested. “What if a vial isn’t enough?”
“Then it isn’t sure as hell enough to save a city or the nation, either. No, we’ll test with the vial. If one shot doesn’t work, we’re back at square one, unfortunately,” the Alpha said in a tone that tolerated no dissention. “We leave in ten.”
The local police force was
patrolling the streets, stopping every vehicle on the roadways, so the small group decided to walk toward the city. Surely they’d find a good place to test en route.
They found one three miles down the main road from Heureuse’s driveway. Raya knew who lived there: a man, his wife, his mom and their three children. Sure enough, there was a large red bow on the door.
He knocked, and a voice yelled, “Go away. We have sick people in here!”
“This is Raya from Heureuse! We’re neighbors and we might have a cure; we need to test it if you’re willing!” Raya yelled back.
There was silence, then a chain rattling and the door opened.
The man Raya remembered stood there coughing heavily in a ratty bathrobe.
“I really hope y’all do have a cure. Ain’t nobody else got shit, according to the TV.”
“Who is the sickest?” Petra asked. “Maybe we should start there. And do you mind if we make a video of it?” She held up her phone.
The man sighed and hung his head.
“No, that’s fine. And that would be Mom. She’s in her 80s. I’m Tim, by the way, Tim Henderson.”
Petra introduced herself as they walked in and to the back of the house, which had a musty, sick smell. There were definite drawbacks to being a werewolf, she thought. Her heightened sense of smell was not doing her any favors at that moment.
Tim knocked lightly on a door. There was no response, so he shrugged and opened it.
A figure lay on her side facing away from the door, her breathing loud as she literally fought for every breath. As Petra rounded the bed, she caught sight of the old woman’s arms and face, and her own heart sank.
The arms looked like she’d been in a knife fight. Many long slices, some still oozing blood, lay on both arms and across her cheeks. Petra took video of it all.
Petra eyed Raya with a raised brow. Raya patted his pocket and raised his own brow. She nodded, and he withdrew the hypodermic needle filled with Joseph’s blood. For this first test, they’d give a small to average dose of 15 milliliters. Couldn’t hurt, and if it really helped, they’d use a smaller dose next.
“Mom? Can you hear me? These folks are here to help,” Tim said softly.
One faded blue eye partially opened and looked up at him. She shook her head so slightly that Petra almost missed it.
“Don’t be like that,” Tim admonished her. “Give them a chance! It’s the folks from Heureuse. You always said that you wanted to go and see that beautiful place, right? Now you can once you’re well, right?” He said to Petra, eyes pleading.
“Of course she’ll come over. We’ll all have a dinner party there when she’s well.”
Her eyes closed, and Petra could swear there was a small smile on the old woman’s face. “Goddammit, this has to work,” she whispered fiercely to Raya.
He merely nodded and slipped the needle into the old arm.
They stood and waited anxiously, but nothing happened. Five minutes passed. Ten. Twenty.
“How long will it take?” Tim asked.
“Honestly, we have no idea,” Petra had to admit.
“What’s supposed to happen?”
She blushed.
“To tell you the truth…”
“Tim? Timothy?” came a quavery old voice from the bed.
Petra whipped around and looked down. Both of the woman’s faded eyes were open, and they truly looked brighter. And the wounds! They were closing almost in front of her eyes. A huge rush of relief went through Petra, and she almost wept as once again she shot more video.
“Mom! How do you feel?” her son asked as he sat on the edge of the bed.
“A lot better, son. You wouldn’t believe. I thought I was done for,” she said and began to cry.
“None of that, now! You’re going to be fine,” Tim said, his own voice shaking. “We’ll be back. We’re going to see about Lisa and the kids.”
“Going to try a different method,” Raya said as they shut the door behind them.
“Same drug, though, right?” Tim asked anxiously.
“Oh, yes,” Petra assured him.
They walked into a dark room with twin beds. A young girl heard them enter, tried to say something and had a coughing fit. Deep, snotty, racking coughs. Petra was sure the sound would be clear on the video.
“Don’t try to talk, Missy,” Tim said. “These folks have something that’s going to make you feel much better.”
“A – a shot?” She managed to ask fearfully between hacks.
“Nope!” Petra said over Tim, who was about to respond in the affirmative. He looked at her, puzzled. She grinned and held up her pointer finger in the universal ‘Wait a moment’ sign.
She rooted around in her purse and found a saucer she’d brought just for this purpose. Then she took the vial of blood and carefully shook three little droplets onto the saucer, before placing it on the bedside table. The
droplets of blood moved animatedly on the saucer and joined together to form a single drop which diffused into a mist right before their eyes and dissipated into the air.
“Will that small an amount even work?” Tim whispered.
“We really hope so,” Raya said. “We don’t have nearly enough to help, otherwise.”
“At least we know it should take about 15 minutes,” Tim said.
“What will take 15 minutes, Daddy?” A small boy popped out of the far bed, tousled blond hair sticking up in every direction. He walked rapidly toward the adults near the door.
“Uh, until the medicine hits?” Tim said, amazement in his voice. “Where are you going?”
“The fridge. I’m starving!” and he vanished out the door.
Tim abruptly sat on the floor right where he’d been standing. “He hasn’t eaten in days. This is – good Lord, it’s the answer to a prayer. Lisa! We have to go to her!”
“Or not,” a thin woman said from behind Petra. “I agree with Tim Junior, though. I’m off to the fridge.”
Tim stood.
“That’s Lisa. And just so you know, our bedroom is on the second floor!” He eyed the saucer. “Sure looked like blood, but even if it is I don’t care. This is a miracle. I don’t know how to thank you.”
“Not necessary,” Raya said. “Seeing you and your family feeling better is all the thanks we need.”
***
Raya tried to reach Doc at the CDC when they arrived back at Heureuse, but he didn’t answer his phone. They’d have to wait for the morning. Flipping on the news, they were horrified. People were dying all over the country: even the world.
Then the phone rang, and they learned of another death, completely unexpected.
“She was found in her bed, someone beat her to death, Petra. Beat the hell out of her.” Art was sobbing into the phone. “I know what she was to some people, but Petra, I loved Elinor. She was my girl. And she sure loved you.” Finally he hung up, leaving Petra stunned and unsure exactly what she felt.
Her friend was gone, for sure, but who had her friend really been? Now she’d never know. God, and Shelley. What would she tell the girl? But by the next morning, one more fact was evident. Everyone within ten miles of Heureuse was on their way to being fully recovered.
Joyfully, Raya finally got through to Doc and blurted out his news.
There was silence, and then finally the doctor spoke.
“Listen, Raya. There’s nothing I can do with that. Christ, I wish I could. But blood? From a vampire? I’ll be laughed out of the CDC.”
“Don’t say where it came from! It heals; isn’t that enough?” Petra was incredulous.
“No. Not for the CDC it isn’t. They’ll want to test it and so on,” Doc said glumly.
“There’s an entire neighborhood here that’s been cured,” Raya yelled. “What the hell else do they need!”
“My hands are tied,” Doc said in misery as he hung up.
“I don’t believe this shit!” Petra yelled. “People are dying.”
“Fuck Wagner, he’s not my only contact,” Raya said as he began making calls.
An hour later he gave up: the answer was universal. No to a cure that involved vampire blood, because it sure wouldn’t test as human! And vampires don’t exist anymore than werewolves do.
Finally Raya knew what he had to do. He told Joseph to take a walk with him.
As they ambled down Heureuse’s driveway, he told the old vampire his plan, ending with what he needed Joseph to do.
Raya himself had phone calls to make; lots of phone calls.
Chapter Eighteen
By 8 p.m., everything was ready. Raya made one more phone call. It was to the large public hospital in New Orleans. He simply told them to look out the window at 9:00 sharp, and then he hung up.
Joseph was frantic.
“Don’t do it! It’s not worth it, no matter what. Your family! The pack. All the packs! Don’t do this, Raya.”
“I have to. Too many are dying and this is the cure. They all have the video: this will work. Speaking of, is the screen set up in the courtyard?”
Joseph sighed. “It has all been done just the way you wanted it, but Raya. Be reasonable. There has to be another way!”
“Not one that will work this damn fast. Not any way that won’t mean weeks or months of testing, all those people dying. No, this is the best, the quickest solution.”
The courtyard was dark and empty like it always was at night. Only the smokers went there during the day. Now, though, there was a bit of action as Joseph hauled equipment in by himself, set it up in the dark. At five minutes before nine, he called Raya.
“It’s all ready, but I still wish you wouldn’t do this, I really do.”
“Go far away and take Petra with you,” Raya responded. “If I get away after this, I’ll meet you.”
Joseph said nothing, just hit a button.
A spotlight came on, illuminating a small stage. Behind the stage hung a large screen. Joseph trotted over to a gate, opened it. He told the group waiting there to be completely silent. They walked in, looking around, eying the empty stage and the screen.
Once they were settled, Joseph did the last thing on his list. He flipped the switch on a projector, then quietly left via the gate.
The crowd murmured a bit as the video started with a close up of blood filling a vial. Then a shot of the old woman, and a close up on her dreadful wounds. A syringe drawing blood out of the vial, and finally a voice.
“This is the blood of a vampire. Yes, they do exist, but not like the nasty creatures in movies. They’re just like you and I. Well, not like me – I’m a werewolf.”
Gasps and laughter from the crowd as the camera showed the syringe emptying into the old woman’s arm. Then the children coughing. Back to the old woman, a close up on the healing wounds, and the voice again. “Use the blood on the stage to cure – don’t let them test for months. Too many are dying.”
The crowd was talking, laughing, preparing to leave.
It hadn’t worked: Raya had known it wouldn’t.
He stepped up to the microphone, a mask on his face.
“Before you go, I have one last thing to show you. This, though, this will be live.” He stepped away from the mike, turned his back to the crowd and began to strip. He heard them murmuring, but no one was leaving.
He pushed a button, and the lights went out to gasps from the crowd. One more button, and a single spotlight came on, directed at the center of the small stage.
For a split second Raya hesitated. What was he doing to his people? Would this work?
With determination, he stepped forward, directly into the light.
It had to.
He sat, then rolled onto his side.
The crowd giggled with nerves, went silent.
Then someone gasped loudly.
***
Across town, the DontDropIn was full as it always was on Thursday nights. There was a crowd at least three people deep around the curved bar that night, all of them focused on the large screen TV behind it. All of them dead silent.
On TV, a man was lying down, naked, his back to the camera. Suddenly he seemed to shimmer under the bright light. The bar group murmured. The shimmering became pronounced: the man was still visible, but just his outline.
And suddenly his outline changed, became a lot longer. The shimmering stopped, something moved. A tail – it wagged.
A full-grown wolf came regally to his feet, looked into the camera and howled briefly. It took a few steps: several small vials were sitting on the stage. The wolf took a paw and gently knocked one vial onto its side. He howled directly into the camera once more, turned, took a run at the wall, cleared it and was gone.
The bar remained silent for a second, then completely erupted. On screen, sirens were heard approaching, and then the screen went black.
Chapter Nineteen
Around the corner from the hospital, Raya changed and took his cell phone
from the bag that had been around his neck. He dialed the hospital and this time was put through to the director.
“You happen to be watching the courtyard?”
“What the hell are you? Where are you? We need to…” The man’s voice was high and excited.
“Get that blood and use it against this disease,” Raya broke in. “Forget who I am; there’s no way that can matter as much right now. I wanted to get your attention.”
“Oh, you succeeded. In fact, the President would like a word.”
“He’s not going to get one. Listen, we’ve been around as long as you have, let’s just put it like that. Nothing is going to change now that you know about us. You do have a cure, though. Concentrate on that.” He hung up, kept walking. Shortly after, Petra joined him and he wasn’t surprised.
“Shit. I really liked Heureuse,” she said.
“Time to move,” Raya told her. “Nothing to be done about that.”
Her phone rang, she answered and put it on speaker.
“Hi, this is Ilse Braun, Elinor sister. You know, the woman you just killed, you bitch? The Rats are mine now, and let me tell you, we aren’t happy. We loved her and there are a lot of us who knew exactly who she was, but now more will never know, thanks to you. They do know one thing; what happened to her, and exactly who YOU are. You, and your precious Raya. There’s nothing you can do, Petra, but keep an eye over your shoulder because one day soon, you’ll see me there.”
There was a short pause and Petra looked at Raya in astonishment.
“Right behind you, holding something you’ll never believe possible. But it exists. I exist and the Rats sure as hell exist. And all of us are coming after you and everything that you love. So, goodbye for now, until we meet, bitch. Until we meet.”
The End
To be continued in:
Werewolf Forever
