Blue Skin

by Steven Jenkins

  I empty out the last of the grain from the bucket, and step over the fence. Wesley mumbles something as I pass him, but it doesn’t register. Nothing these people say registers anymore. They’re just prison guards to me. Just monsters keeping other monsters locked up.

  I gaze across the field at The Hold. “I’m here, Ben,” I say under my breath. “Stay strong.”

  25

  With a shiny carving knife, Maggie slices open the pig’s throat, unleashing a torrent of blood into a plastic bucket.

  It turns my stomach and I puke on the barn floor.

  “That’s it, sweetie,” Maggie says, a gloved hand rubbing on my back, “let it all out.”

  After a minute, my stomach settles and I straighten up. The pig is dead, lying on its side, his head, thankfully, facing the other way.

  “You’ll get used to it,” she says. “I was six when I first saw one of our cows killed. My father took me to the slaughterhouse. Said I had to grow up if I wanted to be a real farmer. Told me that this is how cheese burgers are made.” She pauses for a moment, and then smiles. “I almost went veggie after that. But then I saw another get slaughtered. And another. And by ten-years-old, Dad had me working at the slaughterhouse.”

  “Look,” I snap, wiping the sick off my mouth, the acidy taste still on my tongue, “can we just finish this and get out of here?”

  Maggie raises her eyebrows. “Bloody hell, Freya. What’s the rush? They’re not going anywhere.”

  If only I could take that knife and slit her throat with it. See how she likes it.

  “I just want to see my brother.”

  She hands me the bucket. “Come on, then.” She points at the barn doors. “You know the way.”

  I take the bucket, and lead us through the campsite, trying not to spill any. Although, normally there’s a lot less blood to go ‘round. It’s usually extracted from live animals using a needle, some tubing, and another bucket. Only when the animals are due to be slaughtered do the vampires get a feast.

  At The Hold, Maggie unlocks the padlock and slides the steel shutter all the way up. The sun has almost set, so there’s barely any light burning through the entrance.

  There’s a wave of movement as we enter. With dread in my empty gut, I scan the dark, stone room for Ben, I can’t see him. There’s easily thirty vampires shackled to the walls, cowering in the shadows, snarling wildly like dogs, desperate to break free. There’s a thin blanket and a metal bowl in front of each of them. This is vile. How could anyone do this?

  “Pour a little in each bowl,” Maggie orders me. “Not too much. Make sure it’s even.”

  I ignore her because I’ve found Ben. He’s sitting in the furthest corner of The Hold, hugging his knees into his chest. “Ben!”

  Resting the bucket on the floor, I race over to him, drop to my knees, and take his hand. His grip is limp and he won’t look at me. “Ben, it’s me. It’s Freya.”

  Still nothing.

  “I’m here.”

  Finally his eyes meet mine, but they’re lost, broken, like when Mum died.

  The growls of hungry vampires are deafening.

  “Everything’s going be okay,” I whisper, but his eyes remain the same. “I’m gonna get us out of here. I promise.”

  He turns away from me.

  “Ben?”

  Nothing.

  I fight hard not to cry. I can’t show him weakness. Not now. Not in here. He needs to know that I’m strong enough to survive, to break us out of this place.

  Maggie whistles at me. “Come on, sweetie. These blues need feeding.”

  A tear escapes my eye, and then I release his hand.

  The snarls are louder now. They can smell the blood.

  Maggie hands me the bucket. “You’ll see him tomorrow,” she says, coldly. “Now get on with your job or none of these blues will get a drop tonight.”

  It’s an empty threat, so I don’t retort. These vampires have to be fed. They have to be strong. Like she says, it’s just business, just survival. And tomorrow is Friday.

  And Friday is fight night.

  26

  The grey concrete of the pit is now almost entirely red.

  I don’t know how much more I can take of these nights. I thought about staying in the caravan, sitting this one out, but Maggie insisted, told me that Ben might not fight without me watching.

  I don’t believe her. That time has passed. Ben would fight no matter what. He’s hardened to the violence, to killing. I think Maggie just wants to torture me, break my spirit even more.

  Well, it’s working.

  Ben hasn’t looked at me once since he was thrown into the pit. God knows what he thinks of me. Does he even understand that I’m a prisoner, too?

  They no longer need to use the cattle prod on him. He doesn’t struggle much these days. He’s learning.

  There’s a sudden eruption of movement and cheers from the crowd. His opponent is coming. Katrina is pulling a female purebred behind her. The vampire looks short, timid, badly beaten. No threat to Ben whatsoever. I’m relieved, yet saddened by the state of her. Where’s the sport?

  Katrina jabs her stun-gun baton into the purebred’s chest, unclips the chain from her collar, and then pushes her into the pit. She lands on her feet, struggles to keep her balance, and then locks eyes on Ben. She knows what she’s here for, what Ben will do to her.

  Sick bastards!

  Ben snarls at her, his hands open, ready to pounce like a tiger.

  Just make it quick.

  Maggie glances back at me. She’s grinning again. What for? That purebred doesn’t stand a chance.

  There’s another commotion coming from the crowd. They make a path for someone. It’s Wesley. He’s holding a chain, leading to the collar of another vampire. This one is male, taller. A half-breed.

  What’s going on?

  Maggie gets up from her stool, picks up the microphone, and then addresses the room. “Ladies and gentlemen. I promised you all a show,” she points to the half-breed, “and a show is what you’re gonna get.”

  “You can’t do this!” I scream, realising that Ben has to take on both vampires. “It’s not a fair fight!”

  Maggie snorts into the microphone. “Fair? She wants fair, everybody!” A wave of booing immerses the room. “You people came here to be entertained!” The heckles transform into cheers. “To see a fight!” She turns to me, that smug look smugger than ever. “And that’s exactly what you people will get!”

  Wesley pushes him into the pit.

  The half-breed crashes face-down onto the floor.

  “You can do this, Ben!” I yell, gripping the rim of my chair tightly.

  “That’s the spirit!” Maggie tells me.

  “You bitch!”

  Ice-cold steel touches the side of my neck. “Watch your mouth,” Katrina says, her knife scraping against my skin.

  Maggie chuckles. “It’s okay, Kat. She can call me whatever she wants.” She turns her attention back to the pit. “Let’s see how brave she is after the fight.”

  Katrina retracts her blade and stands beside me, her husband next to her.

  Ben throws the first punch, catching the purebred in the chin, the force driving her backwards. He launches a second assault, this time at the half-breed. He misses, loses balance, and almost falls to the floor.

  “Come on, Ben!” I scream; my knuckles white with tension.

  The half-breed shoulder barges Ben, propelling him against the wall. “No!”

  Fangs out, Ben tackles him to the ground, pinning him. The half-breed twists and squirms as Ben aims his open mouth at his throat.

  “Finish him!”

  The crowd goes wild, determined to see another victim of the pit.

  Just as his fangs graze the half-breed’s flesh, the other vampire leaps onto Ben’s back, drilling her teeth into the side of his neck. Ben cries out in agony, bucking his hips hysterically, desperate to shake her off.

  I want to close my eyes, but I can’t.r />
  In the commotion, the half-breed wriggles from under Ben’s grip, springs to his feet, and drives his foot into Ben’s face. With a mouthful of blood, Ben goes limp, his eyes closing.

  “Get up, Ben!” I bounce off my chair. Wesley grabs my shoulders and yanks me back down, his fingernails painfully digging into my skin through my jumper. “You’ve got to stop the fight, Maggie!”

  She laughs again. “Stop the fight? And why the hell would I do that?”

  “It’s two against one! They’re going to kill your prize-fighter!”

  Maggie shrugs off my comment. “So? I’ll just find another blue. There isn’t exactly a shortage.”

  My blood boils with acid as my loathing for her crushes me.

  There’s another howl from the spectators as the half-breed rams his foot into Ben’s ribs. He tries to crawl away from the onslaught, but the purebred dives onto his back. More blood oozes from Ben’s nose and mouth as it plunges into the hard concrete.

  “Please, Maggie!” I yell in desolation. “He’s worth more to you alive than dead!”

  Maggie shakes her head. “That’s what they all say, sweetie.”

  The purebred buries her razor-sharp nails into the back of Ben’s neck, and then drags them down to his hips, blood spewing from the four lashes.

  “He’s the first!” I announce.

  “The first ‘what’?” Maggie asks, not looking at me, her focus on watching her champion fall.

  “The first vampire!”

  She doesn’t retort, clearly done with humouring me.

  “It’s true!”

  The crowd goes wild when a fountain of blood spurts out, soaking the first row of spectators.

  “Sweetie, I couldn’t care less if he’s the first, last, or a bloody vegan.” She points her gun at me. “Now, just sit there quietly and enjoy the show.”

  With my heart in my mouth, I watch as Ben’s eyes finally close. His body is still. Not even a twitch.

  “Get up, Ben!” I sob, trembling. “Come on! Open your eyes!”

  Ben’s motionless body is bombarded with kick after kick, punch after punch. The pit is now a shallow pool of blood, with one vampire drowning.

  I cover my eyes with my hands, unable to watch another second. The boisterous crowd is impossible to shut out, but I try. I think about Tony. The night he attacked me. The night he died. Ben was there for me. In a flash. There was no hesitation. No remorse. Just an animal instinct to protect his sister. No matter the cost. No matter the—

  “You’re missing the show,” I hear Wesley say through the darkness. Hands away from my eyes, I feel the back of my hair being pulled hard—so hard that I’m yanked off my chair, and shoved over to the barbed wire fence.

  “This could be your brother’s big moment,” Wesley says in my ear, wetting it with his foul spit. “Where the hell’s your sisterly support?”

  Thrashing my head, I try to slip out of his grasp, but then feel his handgun digging into my kidneys. So I freeze.

  “Get up, Ben!” I scream at the top of my voice. “Come on!”

  There’s no movement.

  Is he dead?

  The two vampires back off from Ben, clearly satisfied that he’s done for.

  Maggie picks up the microphone. “Ladies and gentlemen, I think we have our first fatality of the evening,” she says to the crowd, her voice booming through the speaker. “Let’s hear it for Ben, everybody!”

  The crowd cheers, spilling their drinks as they raise them in the air.

  “Come on, Ben!” I weep, shoulders juddering with torment. “Don’t leave me here alone! You’re all I have left! Please get up!”

  “He can’t hear you, Freya,” Wesley says, and then whistles to someone on the opposite side of the pit. “Get those blues back in The Hold!” He points at Ben. “And feed the dead one to the pigs!”

  My body tense with rage, I start to twist, ready to rip this cocksucker to shreds. And feed him to the pigs instead.

  But I stop myself when I see movement coming from Ben. His fingers begin to clench, his nails burrowing into the red concrete.

  Ben?

  He flexes his arms and starts to push his chest off the floor.

  A surge of relief washes over me, robbing me of breath.

  He’s alive!

  The purebred spots the movement and swings her leg at Ben’s face. “Look out!” I cry, just as Ben catches her foot. Squirming violently, the purebred tries to yank her foot free, but loses her balance in the process, cracking her head on the floor.

  “Folks,” Maggie announces into the microphone, “it looks like we still have a fight on our hands.”

  With her foot still held against his chest, Ben gets off the floor. I’m frozen solid with hope as he starts to swing the purebred in a circle, her bleeding head colliding with the half-breed, knocking him backwards.

  “Come on, Ben!”

  As if handling a rag-doll, he continues to swing the purebred around the pit, her body now just a streak of blue.

  Wesley moves to the side of me to get a better view of the show. His jaw and eyes wide with shock, like it’s the first time this has happened.

  Suddenly, the streak of blue leaves the pit, heading straight towards me. I duck, but Wesley’s too late. The purebred crashes into him, knocking him to the floor. In a panic, he pushes the creature off him and it scurries towards his wife. Screaming in fright, Katrina tries to draw her knife from her pocket.

  “Look out!” Wesley shrieks, just as the purebred pins her to the floor.

  The room fills with a deafening bang as Maggie unloads two bullets, hitting the creature in the back of the head.

  But she’s too late.

  “No!” Wesley cries when a pool of blood forms beneath Katrina’s body. He runs to her, drops to his knees in turmoil, and then lifts her head.

  And that’s when I notice the gun by my feet.

  Wesley’s gun.

  I scoop it up, and then, with a trembling hand, point it at Maggie.

  With her attention on Katrina’s bleeding throat, I fire the weapon into the air, and then point it at Wesley’s back.

  There’s a rumble of footsteps and movement as the spectators try to stampede to safety, barging past each other, scrambling towards the exit. In disbelief, Maggie turns to me, her eyes bulging, gun by her side, itching to pull the trigger.

  “Drop the gun!” I order, my words shaky. “Or I’ll shoot him! I’ll shoot your son!”

  She glances at Wesley as he sobs over Katrina’s motionless body.

  “I mean it!” I snap, my hand quivering even more. “I’ll kill him! I’ll kill both of you!”

  Maggie rolls her eyes, and that hideous grin makes a comeback. But then I fire off another bullet, hitting the floor inches from Wesley’s foot, and her smirk disintegrates.

  “Okay! Okay! You win!” she says in terror, dropping the gun on the floor. “Just don’t do anything stupid.”

  “Fuck you!” I growl, tempted to just shoot both of them. Do it, then. They don’t deserve to live. “Kick your gun over to me!”

  She looks at Wesley, as if they have a trick up their sleeves to disarm me.

  “Do it now!” I yell, my sweat-soaked finger grazing the trigger. “I’m not fucking around!”

  Finally, she kicks it over to me. Gun still pointed at Wesley, I grab Maggie’s weapon and stuff it into my pocket.

  Behind me, the mob has dispersed, with just a few still clambering to escape. And without even realising, Ben has the half-breed held down on the ground, his fingers around his throat.

  “Leave him, Ben!” I shout down, moving to the left side of the pit to gain a better vantage point of the room “It’s over! He doesn’t need to die!”

  Ben ignores my words, too fixated on choking the half-breed.

  “We’re leaving this place, Ben.” There’s a chair next to the barbed wire fence. I throw it into the pit. “Use the chair to climb out.”

  Ben’s wild, yellow eyes follow the chair
as it bounces on the concrete.

  “Come on, Ben. We need to leave.”

  Tears streaming, spit oozing from his mouth, Wesley gets off the floor. “You’re not going anywhere!” He starts to walk towards me, Katrina’s knife in his grip.

  “Stay where you are, Wesley,” Maggie orders him. “This bitch ain’t worth dying over.”

  He ignores his mother, getting just a couple of metres from me. “Stay back!” I snap, the gun shaking even more. “I’m warning you!”

  Teeth clenched tightly, the knife pointing ahead, Wesley shakes his head. “I don’t take orders from a kid!”

  “You think I don’t have the guts to shoot you?” I slowly back away. “After the shit you’ve put us through?”

  He doesn’t respond, just keeps advancing towards me.

  I fire the gun at the floor, the bullet just missing his foot.

  He doesn’t flinch.

  “Don’t be...stupid,” I stutter, sweat running down my face. “The next bullet will be—”

  From the corner of my eye, I see another streak of blue escape the pit. It lands on Wesley, knocking him to the floor.

  It’s Ben!

  Fist after fist hammers down into Wesley’s face. This time I don’t ask my brother to stop. This time I don’t tell him that it’s not worth it.

  Maggie darts over to them, screaming for Ben to stop, to let go of his neck.

  But she’s too late.

  That wretched snapping sound ripples through the room, and Wesley’s head goes limp in Ben’s hands.

  “You bastard!” Maggie slams her foot into Ben’s chest, propelling him off her son.

  His roll comes to a halt at my feet. Snarling, he readies himself for a second attack, to take out the mother of all this horror. “Leave her, Ben,” I tell him, taking his thin arm—much thinner than it was before we got here. “Let’s go.”