Relict (Book 1): Drawing Blood

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Relict (Book 1): Drawing Blood Page 5

by Richard Finney

“No, I think it’s the way we all smell,” Juarez shot back.

  “This is the guy I was telling you about. He was working for this private security firm, and just like the company, the guy was a dick.”

  “Looks like he still is a dick,” said Juarez.

  “That’s not fair. Didn’t you think I was a dick when you first met me?” said Barrett.

  “No, I thought you were a pussy,” said Juarez, as he started jogging away. “I’m going long. Hit me…”

  Barrett rolled out with the football, leaving Tyra standing by herself.

  At first she thought that the rough exterior he displayed could have been triggered by the fact she was a woman. But after seeing him deal with Juarez and Cliff, she realized Matt clearly had some personal issues.

  And yet as she watched him moving through the barracks, she had the hope that there was room to navigate between the wall Matt had put up and the personal experiences that might have damaged his psyche along the way.

  But then, Tyra thought to herself, she was probably just fooling herself.

  Matt walked slowly and deliberately down the middle aisle of the barracks. Instantly the conditions reminded him of the overcrowded facility in Kabul where they held captured terrorists and the locals they suspected of cooperating with the Taliban.

  Bunk was upon bunk, and just inches apart from the next tower of bunks, starting just ten feet from the main entrance to the farthest wall.

  Though he appeared to keep his eyes staring forward, he caught snatches through his peripheral vision of the other prisoners. His goal was not to learn something about them, but to make sure they didn’t get the wrong impression of who he was. He wanted to look determined, not insecure, as he searched for a bunk vacancy.Everyone around him, now all staring at him… had somehow survived the takeover. He didn’t want to play into any of the factors that might explain why they had all survived while everyone else had died.

  Matt had almost reached the other side of the building when he saw what looked like an empty top bunk. On the bottom bunk was a man reading a book, so Matt couldn’t see his face at first.

  He could see some photos taped to the footlocker below the bunk. Photos of a middle-aged, white guy holding a sniper rifle as if it was a fishing rod. There were also magazine cutouts of Kennedy, King, and Gandhi. Below the montage were the crudely carved words, “Happiness is a cold bullet.”

  “Excuse me... can I help you?”

  “Not unless you plan on putting a mint on my pillow.”

  Matt didn’t wait for a reaction as he leaped up on to the top bunk and reclined like the only thing he was waiting for was a cold beer.

  His new bunkmate was named Lincoln Grouse, and he swung his legs out from his bed and stood up with some urgency. He tried his best not to come off as if he was worried, but there was no doubt that Grouse was bothered by Matt’s sudden intrusion into his space.

  “Who decided this?”

  Matt looked over, but because Grouse wasn’t especially tall, it meant his beady eyes were several inches below the level of the top bunk.

  “You’re looking at him.”

  “Really? Well, then you should know the bed you’re sleeping on comes with some history. The previous occupant was a guy named Mendelsohn, a real fat fuck who died in his sleep. His last moments were spent right there, where you’re lying now.”

  He raised himself up on an elbow, pretending he really cared to hear more.

  “You’re saying he died right here?”

  “Yeah, that’s what I’m telling you. Three weeks ago he begged to be delivered from the hell he was suffering on Earth. So I smothered him…”

  Matt punched the pillow beneath his head.

  “With this very pillow…?”

  “Yeah, with that very pillow…” Lincoln Grouse then nodded solemnly. “Praise God.”

  “Well, you should know, I have my own shameful history… of smothering my fellow bunkmates… with a pillow just like this. I got away with the first incident, but the Rangers discharged me when it happened a second time. “

  Grouse did his best to stand his ground, and not react to anything he had heard. But the look in Matt’s face scared the shit out of him.

  Not that he got a real long look. Anytime anyone looked straight at Lincoln and maintained their stare, just as Matt was now doing, Grouse would look away, completely intimidated.

  Without another word, Lincoln Grouse silently descended out of Matt’s view like he was the setting sun.

  The moment his bunkmate was out of eyesight, Matt sat up.

  The other newbies had already started to enter the building.

  At least Tyra had been waiting for him.

  There didn’t appear to be anyone waiting to greet the others.

  Looking around he could see why. Something along the lines of what Tyra had said. Everyone who had been there for months probably were afraid that the newbies were there to replace them.

  .

  CHAPTER TEN

  “I’m coming for you… hang in there…”

  Ian was crawling along the main beam that stretched across the barn toward his brother. Matt’s fingertips were white and turning purple as they struggled to hold onto the same beam.

  “Did you hear me, Matty? I’m almost there…”

  He could feel his strength draining away. He knew he had to try one more time to pull himself up. Matt summoned everything left and tried to swing his legs forward to give himself some momentum… but the effort only made him finally lose his grip on the beam.

  He was falling.

  Out of nowhere, his brother’s hand locked on to his wrist.

  “Got you…!”

  Matt woke up.

  He did not know where he was.

  Finally his heavy breathing gave way to the sound of the breathing, coughing, and snoring of hundreds of men and women sleeping around him.

  It was the middle of the night and he was surprised, and a bit uneasy, by how deeply he slept… considering the circumstances.

  He couldn’t believe that he had a dream about his brother. It had been years since his brother appeared in one of his dreams.

  Matt closed his eyes.

  Instantly, Ian’s face popped into his mind’s eye. The image of his brother seemed to grow more intense, as if it was burning into his retinas.

  Matt flashed open his eyes.

  He was shocked to discover he was no longer in his bunk, but standing in the center aisle of the barracks building. Before he could contemplate how he had somehow left his bunk, Matt saw movement in the center of the room.

  A figure moved past the rows of bunk beds toward the building exit. His eyes scanned the room to see who else was awake and might have seen the apparition.

  But all the prisoners in the building were fast asleep.

  The image of his brother Ian popped into his head. Why would he be dreaming of Ian when his brother had been dead for years?

  He didn’t have the answer, but the image of his brother seemed to burn with such intensity that he felt compelled to stumble forward to relieve the pain.

  There was a chill in the air as Matt suddenly realized he was standing outside the door of the barracks building. He looked up and saw huge search lights mounted on the concentration-camp towers.

  Then all the lights switched off.

  Only the light from a quarter moon was left behind, or Matt would be struggling to see in total darkness.

  “Matt…”

  It was not a whisper, nor was the voice something he heard in his head. Something in between.

  “I’m coming for you Matty…”

  The next noise came from above, and he looked up in enough time to see a dark shadow descending toward him. Rather than moving away, Matt felt compelled to raise his right arm. He stretched his fingers as if they were trying to touch the sky.

  “Got you…!”

  Suddenly his feet were off the ground… and Matt was floating toward the night sky. The stars and
the moon were getting closer and closer, then the freezing hand released him and he fell a short distance to the gravel covering the rooftop of the barracks building.

  It took him a few seconds to orientate himself, though there was a part of Matt that was convinced what was happening was just the continuation of his earlier dream.

  “Matty…”

  The shadowy cloud that had caused him to rise from the ground to the roof was gone. But the nighttime sky was all around him, along with the stars and the moon. And there was something else, he could feel it.

  “Is that you…? Answer me… Ian…?”

  A hand covered his mouth.

  “Shh…”

  It was the same frost-cold hand that had held his wrist. His lips immediately turned numb and a freezing burn radiated all across his face.

  “No one can know about this…”

  Just as he was about to scream in pain, he was released.

  The blood rushed back to his skin as he touched his lips and the rest of his face. The feeling of frostbite was either imaginary or transitory.

  “It’s me, Matty…”

  He turned toward the voice. A figure stood in the shadows near the rooftop entrance. Matt shook his head… one last attempt to wake himself, if indeed what was happening was part of a dream.

  “Ian? It can’t be you… you’re…”

  “… dead.”

  There was a dim light shining above the rooftop exit door, which cast an umbrella of soft light. Ian stepped out of the shadows so his brother could see for the first time what he had become.

  “I know, Matty, not a pretty sight.”

  It was clearly Ian’s voice, even though the words were coming from something that resembled a corpse.

  “But isn’t your reaction to my appearance shocking only because it’s in conflict with your past memory of what I once looked like?”

  “No, my reaction is because you’re dead.”

  The content, the immediacy, and the decisiveness of his brother’s answer drove Ian back into the rooftop shadows.

  “Mom… Dad… we all thought… because you had simply disappeared, that you had been taken by a serial killer.”

  “Matt, that’s not too far from the truth.”

  Now his voice seemed to come from a different part of the roof. Matt narrowed his eyes and realized that the figure standing in the shadows was no longer standing there.

  “If you want to classify the vampire that turned you... a serial killer,” said Matt, “I certainly won’t disagree with you. But it’s not the fate any of us imagined for you.”

  “Yes, of course. Forgive me. I’m sorry to be so disconnected with what you went through. You must understand, the ten years since my disappearance feels like another lifetime ago.”

  Matt still couldn’t see Ian, and his brother’s slight, wispy voice seemed to be floating all around him in the air. He decided to simply stare into the dark space in front of him and speak.

  “Well, perhaps it’s been another life for you, but I was involved in the one you had with Mom and Dad. You should know that both of them went to their graves believing the worst about how you had died.”

  Ian was suddenly standing right next to him.

  “You really need to lower your voice…”

  He was so close, Matt could smell his breath. It smelled like zinc.

  “Does what Mom and Dad went through mean anything to you?”

  “Yes, of course. But don’t you think it was better they saw my face on a milk carton and wept for me... rather than learn the truth – that I was one of those responsible for the disappearance of the other faces on the same milk cartons?”

  Matt stepped away from his brother. His mind was racing. A decade ago, when he thought Ian had died at the hands of some killer, he thought obsessively about all the things he wished he had told his brother. Now he couldn’t remember one word.

  “I knew you would show up at Beth’s house, if you were still alive,” said Ian. “After I was assigned to this facility I planted video cameras there.”

  “Then you would know if…

  Matt could not finish his sentence; Ian’s hand was once again over his mouth. In his anxiousness, Matt was practically yelling out his question.

  “Last time, Matty…”

  He nodded.

  When Ian released him, Matt whispered his question. “Is Beth alive?”

  “I was not assigned to the facility until months after the takeover. By that time Beth was already gone… or killed. Her name has not turned up on any of the donation center rosters on the eastern corridor. That’s all I know.”

  His next question was louder than a whisper. In his anger it was the best he could do.

  “So you killed Jay?”

  “I tried to allow for every possible contingency, but I failed. I assure you, your friend’s death was in no way part of my plan. I hope you believe me.”

  Matt turned toward the voice, and was startled to discover his brother was standing right beside him. And somehow he was holding Jay’s dog tags, which had just been around his neck.

  “I saw the other chains around your neck. It made sense to add your friend’s chain as well. If I made the wrong choice… forgive me.”

  Matt closed his eyes, trying to control his temper.

  He opened them when he felt Jay’s chain drop back around his neck. But Ian was no longer standing near him.

  “Your well-being continues to be a primary importance in my life. Don’t think I haven’t watched over you all these years. Checked to see how my little brother was progressing.”

  Once again, Ian’s voice seemed to be disembodied words floating through the night air.

  “That’s beautiful,” said Matt. “My own guardian angel.”

  Suddenly, Ian was right next to him again.

  “Perhaps if you knew how true those words were you would choose a more appreciative way to express them.”

  He was processing what Ian was saying, and not able to immediately respond.

  “Matty, we have been hiding amongst you for thousands and thousands of years. Certainly when I was turned, I did so for a reason. All these years I have spent a considerable amount of time existing… just a shadow away from you.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” said Matt.

  “Sure you do. Come on, my brother, what did you think? All this time, you’ve managed to stay alive because you’ve been… ‘lucky’?”

  He had heard enough. Matt turned and started to move away, but cold fingers grabbed his shoulder and turned him back around.

  “This is not how I wanted our reunion to go.”

  Matt looked shell-shocked as he stared at Ian. Everything about the last ten years, his memories, core beliefs, all of it was now up for grabs.

  “Don’t hide from this. Go over everything in your mind, Matty. When you do, I know you’ll see the truth. I have no regrets. You, on the other hand should be questioning some of the choices you’ve made. Don’t add to your mistakes…”

  He had nothing to say and tried to move away again. But when Matt threw open the roof’s exit door, Ian was standing on the other side.

  Matt tried to move past him. Ian was disappointed by his brother’s action.

  “Do what you will, Matty, but no one can know about our connection…”

  The rooftop door slammed behind Ian, and that’s how Matt knew they were moving backwards with his brother’s hand wrapped around his throat.

  “Obviously you don’t appreciate what I tried to do for you, but there are those amongst my kind who will still use my effort against me…”

  Matt tried to swing at his brother, but Ian’s bony fingers dug deeper into his neck.

  “If you would only trust me… like when we were kids…”

  Nothing Matt was screaming inside his head was emerging from his lips.

  “The two of us… together… Matty… we can survive all of this…”

  Matt flashed his eyes ope
n with a start.

  He was back in his bunk staring up at the ceiling.

  The first rays of the morning sun were starting to light up the steel beams above him.

  Sitting up, he saw some of the other prisoners were still asleep, but others were moving around.

  Many thoughts were running through his head. He wasn’t sure about any of them.

  Then he saw purple bruise marks on his wrist. He checked his other arm and discovered the same. Matt pulled up the collar on his neck and lay down. He had not been dreaming.

  The nightmare he had been living for most of his life had just started another chapter.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  The rising sun wasn’t yet visible as the prisoners hopped out of their beds and scrambled to get their clothes and shoes on.

  This was the first morning for the newbies in the camp, so some of the veteran prisoners took it upon themselves to push the recent arrivals through the process.

  Every morning started with a loud alarm in the barracks. It was followed seconds later by the goons moving through the barracks and making sure the prisoners assembled in a timely manner at the center of the main compound.

  The prisoners were supposed to assemble in lines of eleven prisoners each. But Juarez and Barrett would intentionally screw with the guards by making sure none of the lines ever contained exactly eleven people.

  It was one of the reasons the goons did both a roll call and a head count.

  However, even Juarez and Barrett wouldn’t dare downplay the importance the goons placed on their two daily roll calls -- the one in the morning, and the other in the early evening. The times for the two roll calls changed all the time, probably as a security strategy. But the second roll call always occurred before dark.

  The first of three meals was served two hours after the first roll call. The kitchen was manned by prisoners, supervised by camp guards.

  The vampires knew enough about the living to know that their prisoners wouldn’t eat heartily if they didn’t trust who was cooking their meals.

  Matt had some vegetable soup ladled into his bowl. Another prisoner, wearing an apron over his camp fatigues, next dished out three slices of Spam onto Matt’s plate. For breakfast.

 

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