American Blood: A Vampire's Story

by Gregory Holden

“I shall see you there.”

  Ryan doubled over and tried to vomit. Only a yellow, foul smelling liquid came out. His heaves quickly turned dry and painful.

  A small canteen was pushed against the side of his head.

  “Take it,” Sergeant Bob said. “Keep this up and your throat will bleed.”

  Ryan took the canteen, swallowed several mouthfuls of cool water, and felt his body settle down. “Those damn stimulants are catching up to me . . . tricked my body into thinking it could handle this. The jokes up.”

  “I’m surprised you’re still with us.”

  “If this keeps up I won’t be for much longer.”

  Sergeant Bob nodded and looked at the large plain opening up at the bottom of the Sardar’s valley. “See that large extrusion of granite over to the east? That’s where our girl is.”

  Ryan straightened up and handed the canteen back. “She’s keeping quiet. Do we just stay here and wait?”

  “Sunrise is in fifteen minutes. It’s already lighter to the east and sunlight will kill her, right?”

  “She’ll burn. It’s actually a slow process. Maybe five minutes.”

  “I don’t know Sergeant,” Squalls said. “She’s probably not going to make it.”

  “See that group of boulders next to the lake? That’s where I want us in ten minutes. We’ll be able to see who comes out of that cave and we’ll have a straight path to our ride out of here.”

  The three men set off again and as he stumbled here and there on the loose rocks underfoot, Ryan kept the tracker’s screen in view. He brought up the signal log and shook his head. There should be signals from both devices implanted inside Calida, but only the shoulder sensor was listed. Ryan struggled to keep up with the two rangers as he worked on the tracker. The device was in the “Active Track” mode. The tracker was designed only to track a single frequency. It was a limitation of the design.

  Ryan came to an abrupt stop. He looked at the screen and cursed his own stupidity. He changed the unit’s receiving mode from “Active Track” to “Listening” and again displayed the signal log.

  “We have to keep moving,” Sergeant Bob called back to him. “Stop playing with that thing and get moving.”

  Squalls came back toward him. “Did you find something?”

  Ryan rapidly tapped the screen for a few seconds and again brought up the tracking display. “Still nothing,” he said.

  Squalls stopped next to Ryan and peered at the display. “Then why do you keep fiddling with it?”

  “It’s what I do.” Ryan allowed the tracker to hang down against his side. He walked past the Corporal who paused behind him for a moment and then followed.

  “No more stops,” Sergeant Bob said.

  The ground became easier to walk on as they came to the end of the valley. The rangers led Ryan onto the plain toward several large boulders that had rolled down from the valley wall. Two hundred meters to the west of the boulders a forty foot cliff dropped into a small glacial lake that was devoid of any surface movement. Its calm surface reflected the waning night sky.

  The three men finally made the cover of the boulders and Sergeant Bob using his night goggles, studied the base of the large granite extrusion that was now directly east of them several hundred meters across the plain. “There’s two men sitting where this cave must be and there’s only one tent up. It looks like they’re breaking camp and loading up an old Soviet military truck.”

  “We’re not going to keep up with that on foot,” Squalls said.

  “Maybe we won’t—”

  The tracker made a short electronic beep.

  Ryan held the unit up and looked at the screen. “It’s picking up a faint, intermittent signal.” He pointed the small directional antenna directly at the granite pillar. “It’s probably picking up a signal reflection from inside the cave that’s leaking outside through the opening.”

  “We’re more or less line of sight with the opening then. Turn the audio off. I don’t want it beeping at the wrong time.”

  Ryan disabled the audio output and rapidly entered a series of instructions into the tracker. The word “SEND” highlighted by a black box flashed in the middle of the screen. Ryan tapped the screen once.

  “What are you sending?” Squalls asked. He had come up behind Ryan and was looking over his shoulder.

  Ryan turned around and looked at the corporal for a hard moment. “I’m just trying to boost the signal of the sensor that’s implanted in her shoulder.”

  “That capability isn’t part of the sensor’s design.”

  “How would you know that?” Ryan asked.

  “I’ve seen the specs.”

  “You have?”

  “Give me the unit.”

  Ryan looked over at Sergeant Bob who shrugged and again turned his attention toward the cave. “Okay, here, take it.” Ryan pulled the strap over his head and handed the tracker to the corporal who expertly navigated through the screen commands.

  “Something wrong?” Ryan asked.

  “Not at all,” Squalls replied. After another moment he handed the unit back to Ryan. “It’s picking up a transient signal . . . not enough to send or receive. We’ll just have to wait for her to come outside.”

  “If she comes outside.”

  Ryan nodded at Sergeant Bob, slung the tracker at his side, but kept it pointed toward the cave.

  “We’ve got sunrise in seven minutes,” Squalls said.

  “I don’t know, Corporal, whatever is going on inside that cave she’s cutting it too close.”

  Ryan looked to the east past the granite pillar. The night sky was rapidly becoming lighter. He closed his eyes and began to ask the same urgent question repeatedly within the seclusion of his mind: Where are you?

  Calida stood on the other side of the curtain but she didn’t move. The Sheikh stood twenty feet away pointing his heavily used AK-47 directly at her chest. She glanced at a lump on the ground next to her target. Nafisa was huddled in a naked ball on the floor, weeping.

  “I have not asked for you,” the Sheikh said, his voice calm yet threatening.

  “I was told to—”

  “Do not speak unless I allow it.”

  Calida nodded and silently waited.

  The Sheikh stepped closer but kept his rifle pointed directly at her. Calida observed that his finger was pressed against the trigger.

  “Why are you so eager?” he asked at last. “Why do you not show fear like your sister?”

  Calida remained silent and looked directly at her target. Although he was holding the rifle and aiming it at her he looked frail. His walking cane lay next to Nafisa as if he had used it to beat the frightened girl. He still wore his plain white turban, but his army jacket was on the floor a few feet away from the curtain. Calida held no delusions that even with her great speed she could get to him before taking several shells in the chest.

  “So why have my men allowed you inside my private chamber? Speak.”

  “I am only doing what I’ve been told,” Calida replied.

  The Sheikh narrowed his eyes as he looked at her face. “Your lips . . . what is wrong with them?”

  Calida retracted her fangs too quickly and felt sharp pains shoot up both sides of her skull making her wince. She forced her lips to relax and said, “I am frightened by your weapon.”

  “I don’t see fear in your eyes. Pain perhaps . . . and something more.” The Sheikh grasped the barrel of his rifle even tighter.

  Calida lowered her gaze toward the ground. “But I am afraid.” The first wave of day weakness passed through her body. The sun had begun to rise in the east. Calida knew she had at most ten minutes of her night strength left.

  “That is as Allah wishes, Praise and Glory be to Him.”

  “May I go to my sister?” Calida asked, and tempted a step forward.

  The Sheikh lowered his rifle an inch. “She is unharmed, but I am finished with her for now.” He then gave Nafisa a sharp kick. “Get up and go over to your si
ster. You shall learn your service.”

  Nafisa squealed as she received the kick and then got to her feet. She unsteadily walked toward Calida who picked up the girl’s burqa and placed it over her head so she was no longer naked.

  Calida felt her face starting to go as her ability to control her appearance began to fade with the arriving dawn. She could see that the Sheikh was staring at her; a look of confusion twisted his features.

  “You . . . you are not Amina.”

  Calida turned and looked at Nafisa whose innocent betrayal was followed by the ear shattering staccato of the Sheikh’s automatic rifle.

  Calida lunged to the side as a series of three shells struck her left arm and the side of her chest. She dropped face forward onto the hard cave floor, the side of her face hit with a sickening smack.

  The Sheikh walked up to Calida’s motionless body and jabbed the barrel of his rifle hard up against the left side of her face.

  “Allah protects me, thanks be to Him, and I shall not die by your hand,” he said, his high pitched voice gloated over his victory.

  The Sheikh pulled the trigger just as Calida chopped at his rifle with her right hand. The short burst ricocheted off the floor and cave walls causing him to dive for cover.

  Nafisa collapsed into a tight blue bundle.

  Calida breathed hard. One of the shells had pierced her lung. Her incredible physiology made up for the damage, at least for the moment. She tried to stand but she fell back down.

  The Sheikh rolled over and got back up to his feet. He took one look at Calida and reached for his rifle. The barrel was bent. He watched as Calida tried to stand again. She looked up at him, her eyes glowing with a terrible deep pink light.

  “Allah save me from this Daughter of Satan,” he yelled and without picking up his cane, he hobbled past the two woman and burst through the curtain with his arms flailing to maintain his balance.

  “Help me stand,” Calida instructed Nafisa. “Don’t be afraid, I shall not harm you.”

  Nafisa’s eyes were wild with fear. She was frozen in place.

  “Help me up . . . I must go after him.”

  Calida struggled to her knees and put her hand out toward Nafisa. The girl nodded, stood up, and pulled Calida to her feet. “That man is evil . . . maybe you are also . . . but go after him and I shall follow.”

  “No, just make for the entrance and leave this place. There are soldiers outside who will help you.” Calida held her useless left arm in her right hand and disappeared through the curtain.

  There was still some strength in her legs and she stepped past the three dead guards on the other side of the curtain. Calida could hear the Sheikh laboring along the tunnel up ahead. She broke into a run and closed the distance. She came around the bend and could just see the outline of someone limping along the tunnel in front of her.

  Something flashed toward her from a dark recess in the side of the tunnel. Calida ducked and spun around. A man in a white turban had nearly impaled her with a long iron spike.

  The man looked at her and took in a sharp breath. “Allah! It is . . . you! The woman from the boat.”

  Calida’s fangs were fully revealed and began to drip with red translucent drops. “I remember you Masoud.” And her voice now had the quality of a low hiss. “You killed everyone on that boat. You’re a coward.”

  “You still live, demon? No longer!” Masoud raised the long spike and thrust it toward her, but Calida managed to grab it with her good hand and twist it backward out of his grasp forcing the point upward into the bottom of Masoud’s jaw. He fell forward, almost dead, the four-foot spike holding him up for a second as his head balanced on the point, which slowly sank deeper into the man’s skull from his own weight.

  Calida thought she heard someone behind her as she headed back up the tunnel. The sound of gunfire echoed down the tunnel. Calida emerged onto the main passage that led to the cave’s entrance. A dead Taliban laid on the ground, riddled with bullet holes. She hurried up the passage and came across another body.

  Calida followed the desperate scent of the Sheikh. The entrance was just up ahead and she could see someone squirming thorough the narrow opening.

  She focused her thoughts.

  I’m following him outside . . . I’m getting weaker.

  Calida made it to the entrance and passed through into the early dawn.

  She looked at her hand.

  Her skin began to smoke.

  “She’s coming out,” Ryan said. “I think she’s chasing him.”

  Sergeant Bob trained his scope at the base of the granite pillar. “Oh Lord, a tall man with a limp just came outside . . . I think she’s forced the target out of his hole.”

  “We have to go help her,” Ryan pleaded.

  “Corporal, call for our ride. I want evac from here in five minutes.”

  “Affirmative.”

  “Hmm, someone else just came out. Looks like a woman in a burqa. She’s hurt . . . it must be her.”

  Ryan looked up at the mountains to the east beyond the plain. The sun peeked over the range; its light already touched the western shore of the lake.

  “Corporal, can you get a shot at him?”

  Squalls reattached his radio to his vest and brought his rifle up to the shooting position. He sighted down the scope. “The target ducked behind that truck Sergeant.”

  “Yeah, I see . . . be ready in case his head pops into view. If you see anyone with a gun take them out.”

  “Yes Sergeant.”

  “Shouldn’t we go help her?” Ryan asked.

  “Damn, I think another woman just came out of the cave.”

  A series of gunshots carried past them.

  “We got a serious fire fight going on,” Squalls said. “What the . . . two Taliban were cut down as they came out of that tent.”

  “I confirm that. She’s got them killing each other. Good thing she’s on our side.”

  Ryan stood up and pointed the tracker to the east. “Let’s see if this thing is working now,” he whispered to himself and resent his instructions to one of the sensors inside Calida.

  There was nothing more he could do.

  Calida gained on her target. The Sheikh made it to the truck and looked back toward her. One of his men jumped out of the covered rear of the vehicle.

  “The Talibi have betrayed us,” the Sheikh yelled. “They have tried to kill your Sheikh!”

  At that same moment, two Taliban warriors emerged from the tent. The Sheikh’s guard aimed his rifle and killed them both at close range.

  “See her! She’s an assassin! Kill this Daughter of Satan!”

  The al-Qaeda warrior turned and raised his gun at the approaching woman.

  “Kill her!”

  The warrior’s head exploded outward to one side. His body fell to the ground, twitching.

  The Sheikh spun around and looked toward the lake. He moved closer to the granite pillar keeping the truck between himself and the direction of the gunfire that killed his guard. He picked up a rock and held his ground.

  Calida was now in front of the Sheikh. Her entire body had begun to smolder, and patches of her skin turned black. She was still in the shadow of the granite pillar and out of direct sunlight. She only had a few minutes left and she made a very unusual choice for a vampire. She didn’t run for cover to try to save herself.

  “The Holy sunlight, the gift from Allah, burns you I see.” The Sheikh began to smile. “From what evil place did the Talibi find you?”

  “I have nothing to do with those dogs,” Calida replied, and she stepped forward and stumbled, falling to one knee.

  The Sheikh laughed at her. “Who sends a woman that burns in the day to kill me?” And the Sheikh, with a single step, was upon Calida. He brought the rock downward aiming for her head.

  Calida desperately raised her right arm and as the rock struck her forearm, the bones audibly cracked, splintering from the blow.

  Calida let out a gasp. With the last of her str
ength, she jumped upward and tried to embrace her foe. He slowly began to gain the upper hand; her arms were nearly useless.

  “So my Talibi friends have not betrayed me,” the Sheikh said as he managed to take Calida by the throat and turn her around. “That is good to know. Before you die tell me who sent you . . . tell me where your evil blood comes from.”

  Calida violently twisted around in his grasp. Her upper fangs fully extended. “I’m an American.” And she sank her fangs deep into the angle where the Sheikh’s neck and shoulder met.

  He gave a high-pitched scream, but as Calida delivered the death bite, something pierced her left side. The Sheikh had buried a long knife he had concealed up to the hilt. Calida’s head rolled away from his neck. She began to slide down to the ground, coughing up a thick mix of their mingled blood. Calida knew she had lost. The Sheikh kicked her away from him. His neck bled, but he had stopped her from finishing the killing bite.

  The Sheikh spat on her. “I see your American blood turns black as it spills upon the ground.” He raised his arms toward the sky. “Allah! You have blessed me with the strength to destroy this Demon of Satan! Allah! Allah! Praise and Glory be to Him! Praise and Glory—”

  Calida looked up at the Sheikh as he raised his arms to the sky proclaiming his victory. In mid sentence, his voice stopped and his face appeared bewildered as a bloody object emerged from his chest. He looked down and tried to grasp it.

  “Allah protect me,” a voice said from behind the Sheikh. His body jerked as the object thrust even farther out of his chest.

  The Sheikh stumbled forward, his eyes slowly closed. He toppled to the ground with his face landing on Calida’s feet. A long iron spike had impaled him.

  Calida looked up at Nafisa and coughed up more blood that instantly began to turn black and smoke on her cracked lips.

  “Run! Run to the soldiers,” Calida said as the sound of an approaching helicopter grew louder.

  Nafisa got on her knees and rolled the dead Sheikh off Calida’s feet. She placed her hands under Calida’s arms and after a struggle managed to get her to stand. “What can I do for you? How can we stop the burning of your skin?”

  “—The lake . . . I must go to the lake.”