The Vampires Of Livix Twin Pack (Volumes #2 & #3)

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The Vampires Of Livix Twin Pack (Volumes #2 & #3) Page 12

by Smith, J Gordon


  I took another tentative step to seventeen and what seemed like my doom.

  My body stiffened as icy sheets sliced through my nervous system. My mind recognized that voice. The haughty and uncaring viciousness of it: Claire!

  -:- Eighteen -:-

  “Where do we go?” asked Garin. His hands pulled at both seats as he sat forward and looked at the now blank phone.

  Branoc slowed the car and wheeled it off into the dusty parking lot of an abandoned gravel pit. “Wait.”

  “You don’t have any fancy tracing equipment to know where that signal came from?”

  “Not for vampire dark fiber. You should know that.”

  “I do but hoped there might still be something I didn’t know.”

  Branoc twisted in his seat to face Garin, “It’s good they want to bargain as we have a chance to figure out where they are at.”

  “Other than if they killed her outright.”

  “Yes.”

  “We shouldn’t have left them in the car,” said Garin, fidgeting with the car’s trim.

  “Safe if they listened and stayed hidden.”

  “You should have realized they held Anna’s sister and she might do something.”

  “As should you. But blame won’t solve the problem since we don’t have a time machine. We have to look at what to do from here into the future. The past is gone. The future, that’s what we vampires live for, is it not?”

  “Yes.”

  “– Wha … What happened?” Brett whispered. His hands touched his head and ribs. Healing like worms under the skin. Knitting his life back together.

  “Garin saved you from the edge of death.” Branoc put his hands on the steering wheel. He looked off into the approaching night as the last of the reflected sunlight dropped below the horizon. “Garin, what might they want with you?”

  “I haven’t made any friends with whoever backed Yashar and Sandro.”

  “That might be a revenge angle but they are bargaining. They planned a plot certain to lure Anna and likely you.”

  “– What …?” stammered Brett. “All this is because of you Garin?” Brett snapped out of the fog.

  “Maybe.” Garin glanced at Brett, “We need to focus on Anna.”

  “You’re right we do.”

  Branoc hit the wheel, “You need to realize it’s about Anna until we learn otherwise. The two of you fighting over her won’t solve anything.” He looked at each of their eyes in the mirror, “You two got that?”

  “Yes, Dad,” said Brett. He knew he shouldn’t have said that and glanced out the window.

  “Garin, what could be at your plant that they want?”

  “I don’t know. But this seems to go back there doesn’t it?”

  “Yes.”

  “Maybe we should be there when the call comes in for their demands?”

  “I thought that.”

  “Can your security clearance get us passed the red tape?”

  Branoc pressed the accelerator and spun the steering wheel around, “I have a few clearances we could test out, but they will alert too many and risk Anna.” A fan of white gravel and dust billowed out the back of the car as they launched onto the main road. “We’ll need more information from our adversaries.”

  -:- Nineteen -:-

  They pulled the hood roughly off my head. My hair hung in wet ribbons against my face. The moist perspiration on my forehead icy cold in the damp underground air.

  A pale green fluorescent lamp feebly lit a far corner of the basement.

  I smelled only ancient withering rot and mold. Rough cut wooden beams above me seemed carefully dusted with a powdery gray mold, hung thick with cobwebs, and dried husks of old spider feasts dangling from their little trash dumps. The cracked and split stone floor showed where water flooded up inches on the wall. Probably every year when the snow melted in the forest or maybe every large thunderstorm. Rotted post stumps supported the house above on pencil point remains from grub infested feasts – warning of an imminent crush at any misplaced weight above. But the posts held with enough sturdy pith behind the softening outer layers.

  Old rusty nails pounded in the beams and furring strips on a couple of the walls hung tattered and raggedy coats and patched up trousers that looked over a century old. Green brass buttons and powdery reddish-brown iron rivets clamped stiff leather straps together. A single bicycle tire draped over a joist nail deflated with a fibrous looking cracked red rubber inner tube hanging from it and stretched with age. Rotted wires and ropes fallen onto heaps of moldy wooden barrels that long ago spilled their packing straw and moldy sawdust onto the floor. Their once bold iron hoops rusted to less than tinfoil strength. The forgotten place.

  They tied me to a sturdy wooden chair facing the steps. A newer metal door with diamond plate patterned steel sheets welded over a timber core and affixed with new hinges and several deadbolts. Not in a row, like the one I might have expected on the swing side, but all four sides of the door. The deadbolts pinned the door at each side so even if the hinges could be removed or damaged the door would remain secure. Caps had been welded over the inside ends of the deadbolts protecting against any lock picking attempts from my side, not that I knew how to do that.

  Nor did I see any window casements anywhere around the basement. Thick stone filled mortared walls from floor to ceiling, tight and as sturdy as when built. Fleeting shoes of the other vampires disappeared up the stairs. The one that carried me to this place stood before me holding the hood, “I wanted you to see your new home. Get a good smell.”

  I smelled the must and the damp but also a mix of several different women’s perfumes. Cloying now with my nose free of the black bag and able to sort it from the moldy dungeon they put me in.

  “Must be better than that old hood. But enough gossip for now.” She plopped the hood back over my head. Fortunately, she did not tie it so I could get fresh air by moving my head back and forth, for what that fresh air might be worth down here. I heard her swing the door shut and the deadbolts snick into place. Alone with the mold and the spiders and the other frightening things but thankfully no vampires.

  I think of my sister and her kids and wonder if they are still alive and held in a place such as this. Tied like me to chairs.

  I wept for them.

  I am cold. And the silence is deep.

  After some time I think I hear the spiders chewing on their prey. I imagine mice or rats sniffing the air for me.

  Padding of little mice feet?

  Am I truly alone? Or is a vampire guarding the top of the stairs beyond the door? Standing silent and unmoving for hours? As I know Garin did on the patio at his house – trying to guard us from the vampire that held me captive now.

  I am so cold here.

  I pull my arms up. Trying to twist my wrists. The rough rope fibers dug into my skin. The ropes are too tight and too effective at locking my bones down to the chair through my flesh. My breath is condensing against the inside of the hood. A droplet of condensate falls from a curl of my hair to splash against the tip of my nose. Maybe it’s a tear. I can’t tell. It’s cold and wet and my skin itches. I move my head to scratch the spot and dislodge other water droplets clinging to the fabric. Now rivulets of moisture fall to my collarbone, roll down my chest in agonizing slowness, and tickle my skin in furious itching. My wrists burn from the ropes as I strain at them. But my shirt soaked up the water and released the moisture into the air drawing more heat away from my body. I knew I wouldn’t freeze here. The ground around the basement and so the basement itself will remain in the fifties. Like a refrigerator keeping meat cool to prolong its edibility. I figured I had some viability because they stored me here. But for how long?

  And what did they seek?

  -:- Twenty -:-

  Branoc stopped the car down the street from the plant entrance.

  “You don’t want to park closer?”

  “No. The cameras reach as far as the telephone pole there,” Branoc pointed.

>   A red mark like pain scratched across the sun-darkened pole above the creosote line.

  “You put that there?”

  “Yes. About a month ago.”

  Brett asked, “A regular stakeout?”

  “I knew something went on with this plant but I didn’t know what. But settle in. We are unlikely to see anything until we get their promised phone call.”

  White van trucks rolled into and out of the road at the security building. The exchange of many papers fluttering in the breeze when handed between the trucker and security guards. Some trucks waved a security badge that must have had the information electronically embedded on them.

  “I didn’t see that trucker do anything but roll through,” said Brett.

  Garin said, “I’m surprised so many are using multi-sheet paper documents. That one that rolled through probably has an RFID transponder and uploaded its contents to the plant’s computer receiving department.”

  “I wondered about that too.”

  “Some of the larger supermarkets are testing this.”

  “Cool to have this on a shopping basket.” said Brett. “No wait in the checkout line, not putting it on the belt, have someone scan and tally it, put it back on the belt, bag it, and put it in your cart. You could drive the cart out of the store and right to your car.”

  “The tag costs more than a nickel still. And when the store is only making three or four cents on a soup can they can’t see spending on a tag.”

  “Oh,” Brett watched the next truck hand over papers, “and I guess some people probably like their stuff bagged rather than dumped loose in their trunk.”

  “You could put boxes or bins in your trunk that are totes that you carry right into your house.”

  “There’s that.”

  Branoc scanned the rest of the building and fencing, “Or you can order it on-line and have them deliver to your door with your mail.”

  Garin’s phone rang. He laid the phone on the center console and touched the speaker button. Caller identification only showed the vampire dark net line.

  “Hello Garin … And friends.”

  “Where is Anna?”

  -:- Twenty-One -:-

  The locks around the door snapped back and the panel creaked open. A chill air moved across the floor and brushed my ankles. My tightly tied ankles only kept warmed by the rough ropes. I heard the door close again, softly.

  My neck stiffened. The bag over my head moved and drew in some of the fresh air. Along with the cloying musty mold, I smelled the sharp edge of popular cologne. Recognizable, familiar. More recognizable as the wearer than the cologne itself but who wore that perfume?

  A husky voice bridging nearly to a whisper greeted my ear, “Hello … prisoner.”

  Claire! My whole body stiffened.

  “Where are the others?” I said, muffled in the bag.

  “Far away on errands. It’s only you and me.”

  “Then why the whispering?”

  “It’s a great effect is it not?”

  “Effect for what?”

  “Your body is dumping adrenaline into your system already. I can smell it coursing through your veins.” Her nose breathed my scent starting near my exposed elbow and down my open arm toward my wrist tied in rope. “Other deeper hormones and pheromones and chemicals. Everything modern science thinks they understand. But the nose of a vampire can sense so much more.”

  “What is it you want? Something from Garin?”

  “That’s what my group leader wants. Me …” she trailed off. Hot breath exhaled against the inside of my forearm. “Me, I seek the hunt. The feed. For five-hundred years, that is what I have done and will continue to do. This team is a means of securing easy desserts.” Her tongue touched my skin and lapped along a short line. My body tingled. But I didn’t have a chance to consider it when I realized the motions washed the skin like those of an alcohol prep pad. Fangs dove into my flesh.

  “Ah!” I cried out.

  The fangs left my skin, “Delicious. Oh so delicious. Tainted with the smell of burlap and rope like basmati rice.” The fangs dug again into my arm. She forced them deeper. I cried in pain. Fire coursed through my veins starting from the wound and running through my body. Waves of pain and fire. Adrenaline threw me awake on a startled run. My heart pounded in my chest, like a long sprint I couldn’t get enough air. I tipped my head back to get air through the bottom of the bag. Cold moisture clinging to the bag drenched my face. Instead of cold, I burned hot and the water came like a cool shower after a hard aerobics class. Sweat starting across my back between my shoulder blades ran down the line of my spine. To puddle in the small of my back. Similar rivulets burst out on my chest as my heart pounded in my ears and my breathing came deep. The fangs left my arm.

  “In case you’re wondering. That’s the dance of death,” Claire stood, “Garin probably never showed you that. He only revealed the vanilla layer of desire, if that.” She touched my wrist with her fingers and the burn replaced with a soothing bandage of wriggling things that I knew knitted my flesh back together again. Mark free. Other than my profuse sweating and a body that heaved in exertion – well beyond any jogging or yoga class and the unseen amount of blood taken. I couldn’t talk, my mind singed numb and my body wrung out.

  I heard a metal bucket scrape against the stone floor and water splashed in a dipper. Claire raised the front of the hood high enough to expose my lips and nose. She banged a tin cup against my teeth and poured chilled water into my mouth. I sputtered yet drank. I could only imagine the insects that floated on its surface. The iron of the cup salty against my tongue. Dribbles of water came out the corners of my mouth as I swallowed the tasteless liquid yet my body took it in hungrily.

  “You’ll get more in shape for that sprint as the days go by. You’re young and the training will be fast. You and I will work up to it.”

  The door moved open. “Oh, I don’t think I need to tell you this is our little secret.”

  And the door closed and the locks snapped back home.

  My thirst continued.

  -:- Twenty-Two -:-

  “Anna is quite safe,” said the voice. “She is guarded over by one of your good friends, Garin. Claire is there with her now.”

  Garin’s fists squeezed into the seats like sharp talons ripping into the soft vinyl and foam.

  Branoc said, “And where is that?”

  “Not yet Mr. Branoc.”

  Garin said, “I want to talk to her.”

  “Quite out of the question but we will get you proof. First we need to know you have access to the equipment we need.”

  “Which equipment?”

  “In the research department of that business you are parked in front of –”

  Garin and Branoc shared glances. Branoc quickly scanned the plant and the horizon around them.

  “Don’t worry Mr. Branoc. You parked outside the plant’s security system. We have watched that plant far longer than you have. We have additional systems monitoring the facility. Garin seems to know a lot about RFID tags.”

  Brett said, “They bugged the car?”

  “Oh, no need for that, my precious,” the voice seemed to enjoy this, “hacking your phones and the car systems as well as laser points were picking up slight vibrations in the automotive glass and the body panels. Good that the vampire police don’t buy vehicles with creature comforts in mind.”

  Another voice on the other end laughed, “– creature comforts!”

  “– since heavy padding to block out road and engine noise makes the need for our instruments to be that much more sensitive.”

  “But for today your only task is to get access to pilot plant HK.”

  Garin said, “Never heard of the pilot plant.”

  “Incredulous. You’re a business owner and a vampire and you don’t know what you’ve got in there?”

  Branoc interrupted, “No. His family only participated as passive investors. They do not have sufficient national security clearances.�
��

  “What about you Mr. Branoc? I know you have access to nearly everything.”

  “That access comes with costs. Primarily time. Approvals and vampire warrants that would obviously compromise your project’s secrecy. Rules to follow. I cannot walk in and flash my badge.”

  “That is too bad Mr. Branoc. You need to start seeking those approvals – through quiet channels as you suggest. We would have you sneak in but the equipment we are interested in acquiring is bolted to the floor and will take several trucks to get out.”

  “You don’t want money?”

  “We’re not your regular thieves.”

  Branoc shifted in his seat, “I already guessed that.”

  Garin said, “That’s some project if we need a fleet of semis to load –”

  “We can wait. We have a snack here.” The voice moved off speaker phone mode, “Mr. Branoc, we have the girl and the girl’s family. It can get unpleasant or you can work your Red Tape Bureaucracy to its fullest. I shouldn’t have to remind you not to bring in any reinforcements or other complications. We are watching. We will talk more tomorrow.” The phone went dead.

  Branoc started his car and drove back onto the road. He punched the accelerator and they raced away from town. Passed the five and the ten acre home parcels. Passed the horse farms and the dairy farms and out into wide open stretches of soybeans and corn. The tasseled corn reached above head height. The roads turned to dirt and washboards stuttered the suspension like galloping horses. Billowy clouds of white road dust swirled around them. Other vehicles going the opposite direction brought conical fog clouds in their wake. Lights on vehicles came out of the fog as they sped forward. Branoc shifted down and accelerated where the road cleared. He wheeled the car off the road and onto a short driveway that entered the center of two sprawling corn fields. They followed the rough path toward a cut in the ground shielded by large elm trees and ash trees looking gray from losing their battle with the metallic emerald ash-borer beetle.

 

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