Relict (Book 1): Drawing Blood

by Richard Finney

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  It was just a little past 3:00 a.m. when the CCC alarms blared through the barracks building.

  Seconds later the doors were thrown open and the goons rolled in.

  “Okay, juice boxes, assemble immediately in the compound!”

  The order was repeated three times through the loudspeakers as the prisoners all tried to respond.

  Tyra did not move. She was staring at the ceiling in dread.

  A baton tap from one of the goons finally got her to hop out of her bunk and join the rest of the prisoners. As she walked with the others, Tyra was aware of a low-level grumble about being awakened in the middle of the night. But she knew their discontent would be swept into silence once they realized this was not a drill.

  Approaching one of the exit doors to the barracks building, Tyra caught sight of someone she did not expect to see – Eric Murphy. Confusion quickly gave over to optimism. Perhaps what she had dreaded was not the cause for the late-night assembly.

  “I thought you guys were going out tonight?”

  Murphy couldn’t look at Tyra as he responded to her question. “Chast and Tulliver did go out tonight, but I changed my mind.” He then sped up, so he was not forced to answer any more of her questions.

  Other prisoners brushed past her as Tyra stood there, afraid to join the assembly, frightened about what she now felt sure was waiting in the compound.

  Matt was about to move past her, but then stopped.

  They looked at each other.

  All she could see was a face without a trace of guilt.

  He had warned them – “Suicide mission.”

  Her words to him – “I’m a facilitator... The person who makes things happen… “

  Before Matt could say a word, Tyra broke away, cutting across the flow of streaming prisoners, to the building’s latrines.

  She rushed into one of the stalls and threw up into the toilet.

  Before she threw up again, she began to cry.

  It was the first time Tyra had shed any tears since she had come to the CCC camp.

  All of those who had assembled turned as they heard a noise coming from the security building. The door flew open and, after an advanced guard stepped aside, Spector emerged. He was followed closely by Chast and Tulliver, both being dragged by the collar of their prison fatigues by a pair of CCC goons.

  As they made their way across the dirt of the compound, each of the captured men tried to regain their own footing, but their efforts to reclaim some dignity before they met their fate fell short.

  When the guards released Chast and Tulliver in front of the rest of the prisoners, they both collapsed to the ground – two piles of beaten, battered, and almost lifeless mounds of flesh.

  A subsequent noise coming from the black tower turned the heads of the assembled prisoners.

  Julian Macy emerged from the cloud of darkness surrounding the base of the tower. However, he was almost halfway across the compound before any of the prisoners could see him.

  He was thin, pale, his skin almost completely transparent as beams of moonlight shone down upon the CCC compound.

  Julian’s appearance was consistent with all the previous sightings of the vampires during the takeover.

  But there were also distinct differences.

  Unlike some of the bloodsuckers, who could be unsightly and repulsive in the clear moonlight, Julian was eerily beautiful, with jet-black eyebrows, crystal-blue eyes, and chiseled cheekbones that made his appearance hypnotic and alluring.

  The way he moved was also of note.

  His approach to the assembly of prisoners was as if he controlled all of the airspace around him, as if Julian was walking on air.

  Four other vampires emerged from the shadows a few paces behind Julian. None of them had the presence, style, or power of their leader, but all four were moving in lockstep with whatever or however their leader rolled.

  This occasion marked the second time Tyra had seen all five. Her first experience came as a result of one her punishments.

  While she was waiting in a grey-building stall, Julian came in first, followed by the others. All five of the vampires sported chains around their neck with beautifully carved wooden stakes attached.

  Clearly the wardrobe accessory was hung in plain sight for anyone who dared to dream about killing a vampire.

  Later, when she recounted the experience to the other prisoners, she referred to Julian’s entourage as the “Bat Pack.” The moniker stuck, but she regretted the reference over the following months, because it downplayed the fear and respect she not only had for the “Bat Pack,” but their leader.

  Julian planted himself next to Spector. The head of CCC security wasn’t bothering to sell the close proximity of the vampire as an honor.

  Since the last time all the prisoners saw him, Spector’s intimidating stature had undergone a transformation. Now he stood in front of the assembly with several lines of perspiration running a track meet down his face, along with patches of flop sweat soiling his black uniform, which completely contradicted the dry, cool, early morning temperature.

  He took his time before actually addressing the gathering. Julian stared at the prisoners with his crystal-blue eyes as he slowly pulled a pair of black, leather gloves off of his hands.

  “Some of you standing before me are recent arrivals. But the rest of you are not new to our system. All of you should have known better.”

  Julian folded his gloves and put them into his long, dark coat.

  “No matter. Tonight all of you will come together in a shared experience that I’m positive will prove to be… life-changing.”

  Those prisoners who were watching, but blinked at that very moment, would be convinced that Julian had vanished.

  Instead, he had moved, like only a vampire can cover ground - without being seen - to be suddenly standing in front of Ron Chast.

  The prisoner was barely conscious, his pummeled head falling side to side.

  Julian’s body blurred for a split second, then somehow… was standing right next to Spector again.

  Blood sprayed from two puncture wounds on Chast’s neck.

  A few away, the Bat Pack waited, like well-trained dogs salivating for their food.

  Chast fell face-first into the already sizeable puddle of his own blood, and Julian allowed the sensation of the splash to settle over the other prisoners before he snapped his fingers.

  The Bat Pack swarmed Chast like ants attacking an outsider who had fallen to die near the entrance of their colony.

  Tulliver’s weary eyes had watched his friend’s demise, but suddenly his view of the desecration to Chast’s body was blocked.

  Julian was on his knees, inches from the fugitive prisoner’s face.

  “There’s something you won’t be using anymore…”

  The vampire stood up, and all the prisoners flinched when they saw Tulliver’s still-beating heart in Julian’s hand.

  The organ stopped beating at exactly the same time that the body it had been snatched from fell to the dirt.

  Julian once again addressed the prisoners. “I’ve been walking amongst you for over two hundred years and this is what I’ve come to believe – The living end up behaving as if they are truly alive only when facing impending death.”

  The vampire tossed the heart in his hand onto Tulliver’s back.

  “Yes, yes, I know… it is a sad conclusion, but it’s also an existential reality that all of you must make holy from this point on. If you doubt my word, then just ask yourself: how am I feeling at this very moment?”

  The final word had just left his lips when Julian seemingly vanished, only to appear in front of one of the prisoners standing in assembly.

  It was Matt. Julian scraped his index finger across Matt’s cheek, then swiped what he had gathered across his tongue.

  “Ooooh, la, la... AB negative,” said Julian with a mischievous grin. “Very rare. If there was a god, you should be thanking him r
ight about now.”

  Suddenly, Julian was standing in the row directly behind Matt, in front of another prisoner, Warren Hamilton.

  The vampire swept his finger across Hamilton’s cheek and his tongue shot out from his mouth for the taste test.

  “O negative. Not your lucky day...”

  Hamilton felt a sting on his neck.

  He staggered for a few steps… reached out to one of the other prisoners, then dropped to the ground.

  The punctures in Hamilton’s skin released a torrent of blood, as if his neck was a fire hydrant in New York City releasing water on a hot summer day.

  The prisoners standing nearby attempted to flee, but were curtailed by the goons using their batons to keep them in line. All ended up being completely drenched by the geyser of blood spewing from Hamilton.

  Julian was back in front of the assembly, using a silk towel to wipe his hands.

  “I hope all of you agree that we’re all just players in a drama that goes on night after night. Tonight is dress rehearsal meant to highlight the casting possibilities that have suddenly become available.”

  The vampire strolled over to the bodies of Chast and Tulliver.

  “The parts of the ‘rebel prisoners’ are now open for recasting. Anyone interested in auditioning for the part?”

  Julian scanned the prisoners.

  “No takers. I understand.”

  The vampire moved toward the assembly. His walk was not often seen, so it was amazing to watch how Julian moved across the dirt of the compound like a panther moving confidently around the prey he has already killed.

  “Perhaps some of you will consider auditioning for the role of the tragic, innocent victim.”

  Julian raised the silk handkerchief, now covered in Hamilton’s blood. He went through the motions of waiting for an answer.

  “Ah, yes, I understand. The part doesn’t receive any mention in the program; not exactly a role that an actor can use to build a resume.”

  He moved back to the front of the assembly.

  “Those of us in charge of this production had hoped all of you would be satisfied to play the roles originally assigned to you – as the background talent. And we’re still optimistic that the production could go on to great acclaim without ever casting another actor in the roles I’ve mentioned.”

  He fell silent as if he was finished. But then he looked up to all the gathered prisoners with a grin that his undead state allowed to take up half of his face.

  “Just in case any of you had any silly ambitions of playing the part of ‘the star,’ let me squash such a notion right now…”

  The Bat Pack had long ago finished with Hamilton’s corpse, turning it into a dry, empty shell. They were now moving through the assembly like rabid dogs and pawing at the prisoners that had stood nearby. His entourage was licking a face, sucking on fingers, grazing through a scalp of thick hair that had been sprayed with blood.

  But they all came to attention when they heard Julian snap his fingers.

  A second snapping of his fingers had all of the Bat Pack surrounding Julian, pretending to take pictures of him from imaginary cameras.

  After striking a few poses, Julian waved his entourage away.

  “If the curtain goes up and we are not all together on the stage, those who tried to leave us will be found, tortured, and killed. And the rest of the company will suffer as well. For every one who is not here, ready for the next performance, twelve of you, chosen randomly, will be tortured and killed as well.”

  Julian took a deep breath.

  “Please understand, this was all very difficult for me. I’m old school. We believe the drama should always remain between the lawyers and the agents, not anywhere near the stage.”

  The vampire looked around at the prisoners, then turned to Spector. “Get them out of my sight and smell.”

  The head of security shouted out to the prisoners, “Okay, juice boxes, return to the barracks until our normal morning roll call.”

  After making the announcement, the head of CCC security turned to apologize for the security lapse.

  But Julian was gone.

  Spector looked around… and discovered the vampire had retreated into some shadows nearby. There was a disjointed, bony finger waving for the head of CCC security to join him.

  Once they were under the umbrella of darkness, Julian spoke aloud his misgivings to the stooge he had appointed to run the camp security.

  “If you no longer have the capacity to perform your job, let me know now and we can begin to discuss your severance package.”

  “Sir, that won’t be necessary,” Spector said. There was a tremble in his voice that betrayed his fear that they had moved into the darkness because he was going to join the three slaughtered prisoners.

  “Then what is the problem?”

  “The problem, sir, is that there’s only so much I can do to keep the donors in line while staying within the perimeters of your orders not to permanently injure any of them…”

  The vampire flashed his crystal-blue eyes, which caused Spector to fall silent and bow his head.

  But when Spector didn’t hear Julian speak for awhile, he looked up to discover…

  The vampire was gone.

  One of the goons wasn’t happy that Matt continued to stay there and stare at the three dead prisoners. He shoved him with his baton. When he still didn’t move, the guard smashed the baton into his gut, which caused Matt to double over and nearly fall to his knees. He was barely able to maintain his balance; it took his feet shuffling in the dirt as if he was learning some new dance step.

  When he finally was able to stand straight again, he looked up at the guard, who remained hovering near him, ready to deliver another blow.

  It took a baton blast to his gut to make him feel better. The pain shooting through his entire body was what he needed to finally feel whole again.

  He was grateful for what the goon had done, and tried to show his appreciation with a smile.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  As the sun began to rise, Matt was still staring out from one of the barracks’ windows. The remains of Hamilton, Tulliver, and Chast were being cleaned up by the goons and stuffed into military body bags.

  However, for the last half hour his attention had been divided. Matt had also been watching some activity beyond the fence, where an armored delivery truck was parked beyond the security checkpoint, outside the compound gate. Goons were hauling stainless-steel coolers out to the vehicle and loading them in the back.

  In another part of the same building, Barrett was peeping out his own window, making sure the area was completely clear of any goons patrolling nearby.

  Satisfied the timing was right, he scrambled across the shower area, where a dozen empty stalls were running water. The noise and the steam, was meant to camouflage the covert gathering taking place in the only shower stall not running water where a group of prisoners had gathered: Tyra, Barrett, Dietz, Juarez, Murphy, Chong, and Grouse.

  “Okay, most of the goons are having breakfast,” said Barrett. “The others are still focused on cleaning up the mess from last night.”

  Juarez made it a point of looking over at Murphy for a reaction, but Murphy had his head down, and he was staring at the tile floor.

  Tyra stepped into the middle of the group as a way of getting everyone’s attention. “I think it’s time we… do something.”

  “Like what?” asked Juarez.

  “What we’ve been talking about for the last several months,” answered Tyra. “A plan to escape…”

  Everyone in the circle reacted, which got Barrett to raise his hands to quiet everyone down.

  “After what we just witnessed?” said Juarez. “No offense, but you either have balls where your brain should be... or no brain at all.”

  Tyra wasn’t sure how to react to Juarez’s statement. If she let it go, then maybe no one would respect her enough to listen to what she had to say. But if she tried to make Juarez eat his wo
rds, the whole meeting could swing in the wrong direction.

  “If either is true,” said Dr. Dietz, “you should come to the infirmary later today and let me check into that situation.”

  The group laughed, and whether he intended it or not, Tyra was grateful the doctor had helped her avoid a confrontation.

  “Here’s what I see happening,” said Tyra. “New prisoners are being brought into the camp every two to three days. It's just a matter of time before the vampires have the luxury of choosing younger, healthier donors for their blood supply. Does anyone want to guess what happens then?”

  “We’ll all be elevated to Emeritus status…,” answered Chong.

  Dietz was the only person who laughed at the remark.

  “This is a tough crowd,” Chong mumbled to himself.

  “Ty, you heard Macy: any attempt to get out of here will result in the death of twelve prisoners for any of us who tries to escape,” said Barrett.

  “Believe me, I heard every word coming from that bloodsucking leech,” Tyra replied. “Which means we only have one option if we’re going to guarantee the safety of all the prisoners in the camp.”

  She paused to make sure everyone in the shower stall was paying attention. Even Murphy was now looking up at her.

  “We need to come up with an escape plan that will set free all of the camp prisoners.”

  Her idea was initially greeted with stunned silence.

  Then Juarez turned to Dietz. “Doc, I need to see you tomorrow; there’s something wrong with my hearing. I think I just heard Ty say something about the entire camp is going to escape!”

  The group encircling her turned away. Most didn’t want to laugh right in her face. But certainly Tyra saw that everyone was snickering or shaking their heads to her proposal.

  It was once again Barrett who tried to speak rationally to her.

  “Ty, you realize, with the newest arrivals, we’re now up to 166 prisoners.”

  “I know the body count. I hear it twice, every day.”

  “So, you’re serious?”

  Before she could respond to Juarez, there was the noise of approaching footsteps. The sound immediately silenced the group.