by Jaz Primo
Sanders and I each took out our mobile phones. True to his point, neither had signals.
“Okay, that’s something new,” I said. “Actually, Mr. Vice President, I think cellular signals are the last of your problems right now.”
He and Paul had grim expressions.
“I think you’re all the targets here today,” I said. “But you, in particular, Mr. Vice President.”
“Why the hell—” Spade began.
“You can credit enemies in high places...right across town today, if I’m not mistaken,” I said.
The Vice President merely nodded, which actually unnerved me, and I turned to look at Sanders, who appeared as surprised as I felt.
“I’ve had my suspicions recently, but I never thought it might come to something like this,” he said. “Or on this scale. This will tear the nation apart.”
There were gasps throughout the room and rapid whispering. Suffice to say, the news was received poorly.
Paul stepped up beside the Vice President. “Sir, I respectfully recommend that now might not be the best time for us to discuss this.”
He nodded. “I know. But there’s never a good time for this, is there? Legally, the difficult thing is proving it.”
Sanders and I exchanged knowing looks.
“You might be interested in a conversation I had last night with a certain senator,” I said.
Paul and Spade both looked at me.
“I know where you were last night,” Spade said. “And who you were busy saving.”
“That’s the guy,” I said.
Agent Jacob’s eyes widened, but he remained silent.
Gunshots rang out, preceding screams and shouts throughout the chamber.
Sanders and Jacobs brought their weapons to bear as people ducked for cover.
As the crowds parted, I stared across the expanse of the chamber to the far side and focused upon the three gun-toting assailants who had abruptly appeared.
One was familiar to me; the man we referred to as The Teleporter.
As Sanders and the nearest Secret Service agents returned fire, I reached out with my talent and grabbed the man who had twice eluded me.
But not now.
He seemed to realize what I had done and his eyes settled on me from across the room.
However, rather than him disappearing, this time it was everyone else who disappeared from around me.
My stomach twisted into a knot as I alternated in and out of a state of insubstantiality. I felt suspended in a void.
Then my feet felt grounded again, and he and I were standing in the middle of a dimly lit, stale-smelling basement. There were numerous bodies lying about on top of each other like some macabre abattoir, each corpse devoid of movement and displaying various of hollow-eyed, often horrific, expressions.
There were plain-clothed civilians, Capitol police officers, bodies bearing press badges, and I noted more than a few Secret Service agents.
The man before me thrashed back and forth, like a fish caught on a hook, but I held him firmly in place.
My mind strained to retain control of my abilities.
And then my world spun into nothingness again.
We appeared in the middle of a dining room.
I saw and heard the rain falling against the nearby picture window, and I could smell salty sea air, though it was too dark outside to see anything more distinctive.
However, I realized that we were once more standing in the middle of the house by the harbor that we had raided in Cardiff.
I lunged at The Teleporter and punched him solidly in the face. I grabbed him by the throat and my world spun yet again.
This time, I held onto his neck, even as my stomach threatened to evacuate itself.
The new location was a sunny desert, and a hot dry breeze touched my face as soon as we appeared. The sky was starkly blue against the surrounding sand dunes.
The man’s fist impacted the side of my head, catching me off-guard. I squeezed his neck harder, trying to strangle him, if I could somehow manage it.
He kicked at me, his shoe catching the side of my knee, sending pain shooting through it.
My anger rose, and my skin tingled all through my arms and into my back, then up my neck and throughout my head. I heard a buzzing sound and realized that something smelled like it was burning.
His body caught fire and his skin sizzled like bacon on a skillet. I let go of him and he fell to the sandy ground in a burning heap as greasy wisps of smoke swirled into the air around me.
He was definitely dead.
I felt very gratified. I had finally beaten the bastard; a thorn no longer plaguing me at every turn.
His teleporting days were finally over.
Then I realized an urgent problem.
Oh, shit. How am I going to get back?
I looked around but saw only dunes of sand.
Endless, hot sand.
Grabbing my mobile phone, I tried to call for help, but there was no cellular signal.
I slowly turned in a complete circle and stared at nothing but tall hills of shifting sand dunes.
I was stationed in the desert before. I didn’t enjoy it much then and my appreciation for it hadn’t grown with time.
Face it. I was in a world of hurt.
Chapter 28
I climbed the nearest dune to gain a vantage point and spotted a small cluster of structures directly to my south, just downhill from where I stood.
Upon inspection, the site was abandoned and was comprised of merely a handful of single-story buildings built using particle board and old lumber.
It reminded me of the hastily assembled orientation sites that I had trained at during my time in the army. The layout mimicked that of a small village or depot.
Bullet holes riddled the buildings and burned residue ringed gaping breaches, though nothing alluded to who might have attacked the site. Given the deteriorated appearance of the facades, the place didn’t appear occupied in quite a long time.
Though flimsy at best, my immediate need for shelter was met. However, more pressing was a lack of water and food.
I climbed to the top of the tallest nearby dune, only to see sand stretching out all the way to the horizon in all directions.
Any remaining semblance of optimism evaporated beneath the sun’s hot rays, making me regret any quip that I’d ever made regarding the preferred dryness of a desert heat.
My plight was stark. I had no idea where I was, so I didn’t know if heading any particular direction would bring me closer to aid or further into whichever desert I was stranded in.
It was a big planet and there were a number of deserts to choose from.
I had rarely felt more helpless, except perhaps when cancer had ravaged my body.
I cautiously examined my surroundings via short excursions, being careful not to lose my home location where at least I had meager shelter. On two occasions, I became mildly disoriented and nearly lost my way. Each time, I barely found my way back.
During my brief journeys, I kept checking my phone but never received any signal, no matter my location.
There were no cactus or other foliage, and I noticed no aircraft or sounds of civilization. From the peaks of even the tallest dunes, a sea of sand greeted me.
I sent fireballs high into the night sky, as high as I could project them. And still, nobody came.
No aircraft.
Nobody.
Three days later, I lay beneath the shelter of the sturdiest of the structures, feeling desperately thirsty and completely alone.
I’m doomed.
I didn’t want to die.
But then, who in their right mind really did?
While contemplating and facing my imminent demise, I experienced moments of sober clarity. My thoughts frequently drifted to my parents, my sister Lexi, my niece Kristie, my nephew Jake, and my partner, Meg Sanders.
I felt solace in knowing that, while I was never a touchy-feely person, my family k
new that I loved them.
At least I made sure to tell them that on frequent occasions.
However, Sanders—Meg—was another topic entirely. There were things I still wanted the opportunity to say to her.
God, such strong feelings of damnation from things left unsaid.
A hard lump formed in my throat.
I lay on the shaded sand, which felt strangely cool despite the arid air.
If I make it out of this, I never want to visit a beach again for as long as I live.
I choked back a bitter laugh, suspecting that I didn’t have a terribly long life left to live.
My parched throat yearned for moisture and my stomach ached for sustenance.
That night, the air nearly chilled me as I experienced a series of frequently surreal, and other times vivid, dreams. Memories from my life prior to gaining my abilities blended into horrific visions of near-fatal battles that had transpired since.
I fancied the idea of my family meeting Meg for the first time, followed by the memory of when I had first stopped a bullet from penetrating her skull, just outside my home in Nevis Corners. Visions comprising contrivances of my imagination continued to mix with recollections of actual moments in time.
The next day, I didn’t move very much. I either stared blankly up at the particle board ceiling or quietly lay with my eyes closed, my thoughts wandering aimlessly.
I honestly just wanted things to be over and done with; meet whatever end came next.
Anything had to be better than where I was.
I tried to visualize a happy place; somewhere and sometime in my life when I had felt most content.
I remembered holidays spent with my family and friends. Then there were my days in college, as well as good times spent while I had been in the military.
Ultimately though, one moment in time eclipsed all the others. My sister, Lexi, had come to stay with me for a couple of weeks at my Nevis Corners house after I had finished my last chemotherapy treatment, just prior to beginning the experimental program at the Nuclegene clinic.
Around that time, my best friend, Travis Cooper, had relocated to Nevis Corners just to be closer to me if I needed any help. Between them, Lexi and Travis had kept my spirits up and spent quality time with me.
My brain cancer had just been officially declared terminal and I had been reconciling the prospective end to my life. And yet, despite how miserable I had felt, I had kept hanging on to each day, making each moment special.
Like some prison inmate awaiting the chamber on death row, each moment had been precious in its own way.
Together, we had watched more movies and sports events on television than I had my entire life. We’d eaten what junk food I could stomach, and even drank the oddest flavors of beer, some merely because those were the ones that I could keep down.
Through it all, I had never lacked company or support. My parents, nephew, and niece had visited, but Lexi and Travis had remained at my side seemingly around the clock. I had wanted for nothing.
I remembered one moment in particular and focused upon it. I had been laying on the couch, a beer in hand, watching the Iowa Hawkeyes in a Big Ten title-winning game against the Wisconsin Badgers with Travis and Lexi. I hadn’t felt ill that entire day, and I had even managed to eat nearly a third of the pepperoni pizza we had ordered.
For some reason, that day—those memories—as simple as they were, had felt like fleeting moments of perfection in my life. It had felt like the best of the last days of my time left on Earth.
Good times.
The best of times.
I could almost taste the zesty pizza sauce, followed by what must have been the coldest of beers. I remembered the penetrating warmth of the house as snow fell outside, and how my couch had felt like the most comfortable spot on the globe.
I remembered wanting to lie there forever, that moment never passing; frozen in time.
That damned comfy couch…
Moments of perfection were fleeting; just like life.
Fleeting and then over before you even realized that it had passed.
My story was ending, but I would live in that perfect moment instead.
My stomach clenched, twisting into a knot, thirst and hunger maddeningly taking its toll on me.
And yet, I felt as if I was floating in nothingness.
I sank further into the void, embracing and clinging to its cold, insubstantial form. It was the only semblance of comfort remaining.
I sank into the welcome oblivion.
* * *
My eyelids fluttered open and I awoke amidst near darkness with a sickening feeling in my guts.
Shifting slightly, my body ached as my bare arms rubbed against what felt like faux leather.
I grasped and squeezed a cushion beneath me and took a deep breath. Familiar scents assailed me as a dry, hacking cough overtook me.
As I rolled my body to the left, I suddenly felt nothing, dropping for a mere second.
My stomach lurched as I impacted stale-smelling carpet.
My mind raced as I pressed my palms against the very real carpeting. But I felt so weary that I could barely move my muscles.
Holy shit!
My eyes started to focus as I struggled to understand where I was. I heard a vehicle passing in the distance as artificial light illuminated the room between nearby blinds.
I looked up and saw dimly lit dining room furniture.
My dining room furniture!
I scrambled to my feet, nearly falling over as I struggled forward toward the nearest wall.
My hand hit a wall switch and my fingers fumbled to activate the buttons. My dining room lit up via the light fixture hanging above my table.
It had to be an illusion, conjured from delirium.
My mind struggled to understand what was happening.
A mirage?
Mirage or not, I half-stumbled to the kitchen sink, frantically turning the knobs until water flowed freely before me.
I drank greedily from the tap before immersing my head beneath what could have only been near-magical water in my half-deluded state.
It was real.
Or I’m dead and this is heaven!
I didn’t know how long I stood with the water washing over me, but I finally grabbed at a dish towel hanging beside me and wiped my face with it.
I laughed manically, half-willing to confess that I must have gone insane leading up to the final stages of exposure.
But I wasn’t dead.
I’m home!
My empty stomach twisted with pain, but something far stronger pulled at me.
My next lucid thought was, Sanders!
I grabbed at my mobile phone, reassured by the complete set of bars indicating the strongest of cellular reception. My fingers trembled as I struggled with the auto-dial functions, something that should have been child’s play for me.
I dropped to the floor onto my butt, my legs too wobbly to stand. The line only rang once.
“Bringer? Is that you?” Sanders asked. Her voice sounded small and tentative.
“Meg!” I yelled.
“Logan! Oh, God—” she replied. “Where are you? Are you hurt?”
I coughed, my throat still painfully raw.
“Listen to me,” I rasped. “I was trapped in a desert, but I’m back—”
“Back where? Where are you?” she interrupted.
“Sanders, this is crazy,” I said, trying to catch my breath. “I don’t understand—”
I still didn’t believe that what was happening could be real. I managed to get to my feet and awkwardly ran toward the front door.
“Where are you?” she demanded.
I fumbled with the door locks and staggered outside onto my front porch. The sun was just starting to rise in the east and the early morning air felt unmistakably cool. A vehicle passed by my house, its headlights on and the driver seemingly oblivious to me.
I practically gawked at the car, as if stunned by the me
re substantiality of it.
“Bringer?” Sanders asked. “Say something!”
“Sanders, I’m at my house,” I insisted. “I’m in Nevis Corners—”
“What? How?” she demanded.
That’s when I realized what must have happened. A cold sensation rushed through my weakened body all at once. I had to lean against the cool brick of my house just to remain upright.
“—took his ability,” I muttered, my vision blurring and my head beginning to feel dizzy. “I freakin’ teleported.”
I heard her gasp just before I lost my balance and blacked out.
* * *
About the Author
Jaz Primo: Delving into flights of fancy and realms of imagination; eagerly sharing with you.
Jaz lives in the Great American Midwest where he writes paranormal romance, urban fantasy, and young adult literature. He’s a history aficionado, Doctor Who fanatic, “pun-master”, an all-around fan of vampires, and a caregiver to the world’s most endearing cat.
You can find Jaz Primo online at the following locations:
Website: http://jazprimo.com
Facebook: Jaz Primo
Twitter: @jazprimo
* * *
Sunrise at Sunset: Revamped
Sunset Vampire Series, Book 1
Second Edition
by Jaz Primo
The Sunset Vampire series was awarded Third Place in the Reviewer’s Choice Award for Best Paranormal Series of 2012 by the Paranormal Romance Guild.
*READER BEWARE - WARNING!*
If you're easily offended or turned off by: dominant or assertive female figures, primary love-interest characters that are beta males, or non-traditional relationships between men and women, then you should NOT read the Sunset Vampire Series!
Everyone Else: You're in for a real treat that's edgy, unique, and highly satisfying. Welcome to the Sunset Vampire Series!
When is a bloodthirsty predator the best protection against a psychotic killer?
When the predator is both a vampire...and the woman you love.
Caleb is bravely overcoming a dark past while having no memory of the beautiful vampire that saved him.
