Vampire Mafia: Santa Cruz

by Jackson Stein

  His disbelief made Stanic smile.

  Then, shrugging his shoulders, Valentine pocketed the cash.

  Stanic took a deep breath as he considered the new information. He shifted his gaze from the road back to the bottom of the gym bag and found himself staring at the bloody, torn flesh and bright white bone of two severed fingers.

    “Uh…” He cleared his throat. “Valentine?”

  “Yeah, mate?”

  “I think I may have found something that belongs to you.”

  Valentine looked into the bag. His face paling. “Yes, they do actually look a tad bit familiar.”

  “It may not be too late to reattach them,” Stanic suggested.

  Valentine nodded, his face now looking worn and washed-out, his eyes unfocused, staring off into the distance.

  Stanic wondered how much blood the man had lost…and how much blood he had lost from bullet hole in his shoulder. The truth was neither of them was going to be in any shape to do anything if they didn’t get to a hospital fast.

  The Brit cradled his two fingers with the cautious care of a father holding his newborn baby for the first time. Then, eyes wide with fear, he jerked his head over at Stanic.  “We can’t go to a hospital mate,” he pleaded. “Please, you gotta believe me!”

  Valentine’s urgent tone seemed laced with desperation. He took a deep breath, apparently trying to calm himself, then continued. “I’m an undercover FBI agent. The Stelino organization is one of the largest mafia families on the West coast and they have corrupt police officers on their payroll. If we go to a hospital…the only way either of us will come out is in a body bag.

  Stanic nodded, still staring ahead at the open road as it flew by. Seeing the guy’s fingers, he had to believe him. “I have an idea.”

  “Okay, mate…out with it, then.”

  “I have a friend who’s a doctor. She may be able to help us stay under the radar.”

  “Well, bloody ’ell, mate. Off we go, then.”

  He and Dr. Rachel Moore had been dating for three years now, but hadn’t seen much of each other lately. He smiled, remembering the warm summer day they met on the Beach up north in Bonny Dunes. Both were avid surfers, and both loved the big waves. When the waves grew huge, most of the surfers headed in for safety, dreading the jagged rocks along the shore and fierce riptides. But not Stanic. And not the dark-haired beauty he’d seen paddling out into the surf that day. He had watched her swim out, then carve up and down the powerful walls of churning water. With the other surfers watching from the safety of the warm sand, he had paddled out and joined her. Just two surfers battling together side-by-side against the monster swells of the open sea.

  The power of the ocean seemed to parallel Stanic’s feelings for Rachel most days—a rare synergy of calm harmony mixed with pure excitement. It was only natural they became good friends. To Stanic’s delight, the two had begun to make plans to meet at the top surfing spots in the area, searching for bigger and better breaking waves. Soon, it was more than just the waves that brought them together.

  How fast the years had gone by…and how proud of her he was. She’d managed to land a great job at Santa Cruz Memorial Hospital. He’d been there…watching in excitement as her career took off…and was excited for her when she was promoted to chief of staff. Her dream had come true…and he’d felt privileged to witness all of the success unfold for her.

  It was unfortunate they were both so busy with their careers lately, he as a professor with a full schedule of classes at the university, and her in charge of a large staff at the hospital. They hadn’t been able to spend much quality time together and it seemed as if they might be drifting apart. Sadness filled him as he pushed harder on the accelerator…and blinked away the unexpected tears that suddenly welled in his eyes.

  They exited the freeway and drove into a small convenience store parking lot where Stanic jumped out. Seconds later he returned with large cup of ice. Valentine placed both his severed fingers inside the cup and Stanic fired up the Caddie again.

  “We should have at least a few hours to get those fingers reattached before the tissue dies,” Stanic announced, amazed at how confident he sounded…even though he was unsure of how long Valentine’s fingers had lain on the bottom of the gym bag, let alone whether they were clean enough to be reattached without risk of infection.

  Valentine nodded in agreement, then added, “And the sooner the better, mate.”

  Stanic gunned the accelerator again, his eyes glued to the road as his passenger opened the glove compartment, shuffled the contents around, and came up with something from inside.

  Valentine held the device in the air.

  A glowing smart phone…flashing like a beacon…transmitting their exact location.

  Stanic stared at the screen wondering how much time it may take for the owners of the phone to track them. He took a strained breath as a new wave of fear flooded through his mind.

  As if on cue, a black Escalade with dark tinted windows approached out of nowhere. Stanic gunned the motor, but it was too late. The oversized vehicle rammed them from behind hard enough to send the phone and both men flying sideways across the dashboard. Looking out the window at the same time, he recognized the driver as one of the two men he’d seen in the meadow.

  “Friend of yours?” he shouted.

  “That’s Luiggi. He’s wicked with an axe.”

  The SUV surged forward for another attack, this time accompanied by the crack of gunfire.

  Stanic and Valentine ducked down. Crack! Crack-crack-crack! Gunshots rang out, shattering the back and side windows, peppering the passenger-side door. Stanic slammed the accelerator to the floor creating some much-needed distance between the two vehicles. Both men stared down at the speedometer as it climbed over 110 miles per hour.

  Just ahead, the highway split off in two directions. The oncoming traffic separated to the left side of a cement barrier as the lanes parted. The SUV approached from their right. It was now or never. “Hold on!” he shouted as he swerved into oncoming traffic. He threaded through the first few speeding cars, just missing several, then jerked the wheel to left. The Cadillac fish-tailed to the right, screeching the wrong way down a steep on-ramp. 

  Realizing they were going too fast, he stomped the brakes, but instead of slowing down, the tires locked up and they began to slide toward a busy intersection at the end of the ramp. The tires billowed smoke and screeched across the pavement as they shot forward, closer to a crowded boulevard looming ahead. Both he and Valentine caught the dashboard and braced for impact. He held his breath as the car propelled them down the wet pavement in an out-of-control diagonal spin…directly toward oncoming traffic.

  Then the car slowed, bringing them to a lurching stop in the bright white crosswalk lines only inches from the thunder of rushing cross traffic. Stanic exhaled, then maneuvered the vehicle back to the exit ramp…and merged into the city traffic.

  “Find that phone!” Stanic yelled spotting an old pick-up truck hauling a trailer full of old appliances at a gas station. He jerked the wheel to the right, turned off the road and pulled alongside the trailer.

  Valentine bent down, reemerging with the device and a wolfish grin tugging up the corners of his mouth. Clearly he knew what Stanic was thinking. He tossed the phone…and its location-tracking chip…into the trailer bed just as it pulled away headed toward the highway.

  “That should keep ’em busy for a while,” Stanic said, then he noticed Valentine’s hand had started bleeding again. The man sat in the passenger seat with shoulders slumping forward, feebly attempting to slow the blood loss. Thick red liquid soaked the front of his white shirt. “We’d better get you to a doctor quick, pal,” Stanic said, then stomped on the gas pedal.

   

   

  CHAPTER FIVE

   

   

  As they pulled into the parking lot of Rachel’s hospital, Stanic was again flooded with memories of the vibrant woman he loved so
much, making him realize how much he missed her lately. He also realized he needed to figure out how he was going to explain his bloody, finger-less friend.

  Stanic found a dark sports jacket in the backseat and draped it across Valentine’s shoulders, concealing his blood-drenched shirt the best they could, then they walked into the waiting room. Rachel was standing at the front desk. She looked up, a flash of pleasure in her eyes quickly changing to a look of concern. She motioned the two of them into a small examination room near the waiting area.

  “Hi, stranger. Where the hell have you been?” Rachel asked, her jaw tight.

  “Me? I’m not the only one who’s been busy. You just can’t seem to fit me into your completely full schedule lately.” Stanic added air quotes around the word ‘completely’.

  “Oh, I see. I get it. Now that you need something from me, here you are?”

  There was a long pause as they looked at each other. She stood with her arms folded across her chest and hips turned in a defensive posture. She jerked her head to the side and looked away.  He felt the sting of her words, but had to admit there was an element of truth to them. He could see in her eyes she felt the same.

  “Rachel, we need your help,” Stanic said, hating the quiver of urgency in his voice.

  “We’re in a bit of pinch, love,” Valentine chimed in as he opened the blazer and stumbled forward.

  Shock shone in Rachel’s eyes, but in the next instant she shifted back to medical professional. In one fluid motion, she grabbed Valentine and eased him onto a gurney. She took the lid off the cup he’d been holding and stared down at its pulpy contents.

  It was a long beat before anyone spoke.

  Finally Stanic blurted, “He’s an undercover FBI agent who got caught by the Mafia and was going to be buried alive, but I saved him and now we’re both on the run.” He looked into her eyes, hoping she believed him. She held his gaze for a moment, and then broke away and went into doctor mode again, placing the two severed fingers on a piece of sterile white gauze. “Well, you’re lucky, they look pretty good. It’s a clean cut. Must have been a sharp tool to get this type of separation. I don’t see any crushing or tearing so you’re a good candidate for what we call ‘re-plantation.’ Also, good thinking to put the amputated digits on ice. I would have had to do that anyway and it would take more time.

  She grabbed a syringe from the cabinet, prepared a shot of antibiotics and then another for tetanus, quickly injected each into Valentine’s arm, and then she applied a local anesthetic to his hand. “It’s pretty simple actually. The trick is to first shorten the bone stumps so there’s no tension on the tendons, blood vessels and muscles when we reattach them.”

  The two men watched in awe as she slipped on a pair of microscopic eye glasses, then lifted a small electric hand saw.  Valentine eyes stretched wide as she switched on the power. The whir of the spinning blade filled the air and she went to work.

   

  ***

   

  Eventually, and with a little help from Stanic, Rachel had reattached both fingers. She finished stitching and applied a heavy cast to Valentine’s hand. She then attended to the gunshot wound on Stanic’s shoulder.

  “No more roughhousing, boys,” she said as she finished her work. The corners of her mouth curved into a little grin, but Stanic saw deep concern in her eyes.

  He knew stitching a pair of fingers back on an FBI agent wasn’t just another day at the office for her…and she deserved an explanation. He wanted to hold her, put his arms around her. But, while it would feel wonderful to him, he wasn’t sure if his touch would be comforting to her at this point.

  “I’m really sorry to come here like this, Rachel. But we had no other choice,” Stanic said, keeping his voice down to a whisper so he wouldn’t be overheard. “We’re in deep trouble. We have a pissed-off crime syndicate after us…and a compromised Santa Cruz Police Department, so we don’t know who we can trust. We just need time to recover and figure out a plan.”

  And again more silence…

  Finally…“Okay. Don’t make me regret this. But go back to my place,” Rachel offered.

  “No, Rachel, we couldn’t—”

  “Go to my house and wait for me until I get home.” She removed her house key from its ring and handed it to Stanic, then looked at Valentine. “And you need to stay calm and keep this hand elevated for the next several hours. No excuses.”

  Rachel replaced the jacket onto Valentine’s shoulders and the two men stumbled back into the lobby.

  The waiting room had filled up. Several rows of chairs held the sick and injured. An older couple held hands by the window. A woman holding a little red-faced boy in her arms leaned against a soda machine.

  And in front of the exit door stood a fully uniformed police officer gripping the collar of a young man in handcuffs. The young man had blood smeared across his face and a swollen eye.

  Stanic flinched, a small bead of sweat trickled down the side of his face as he remembered what Valentine had said earlier about crooked cops working for the Stelino organization.

  The officer’s gaze seemed to be scanning through the crowded waiting room, but soon landed squarely on Valentine.

  The two patched up men continued walking through the lobby then back outside to the parking lot.

  Once inside the car, Stanic turned the engine over and as they drove away from the hospital, Valentine said, “It could have been considerably worse, mate.” He held up his new white cast. “And I’ve my got my two favorite fingers back on.”

  Stanic wished he could match the man’s optimism but instead, the realization that he’d just dragged Rachel into a dangerous—if not deadly—situation began building in his mind.

   

  ***

   

  Rachel Moore was a successful physician, just as she always planned when she was a little girl. It was amazing for her to look back on how accurately she had mapped out the course of her life.

  Until this very moment…

  She’d graduated from Stanford Medical School, just as she said she would. She’d bought a home along the coast with a stunning view, just like she said she would. It had all seemed so easy, pieces of her carefully plotted course falling into place with an orchestrated precision. And now…she stood behind a hospital’s front desk, pretending to fill in patient paperwork while secretly tracking the police officer with her eyes. She had no idea how the police department could have been corrupted by the Stelino family, but based on Stanic and Valentine’s injuries, she wasn’t taking any chances.

  The officer paced in the lobby like a hungry animal. A drop of perspiration tickled its way down her temple and slid off her cheek, landing on the bogus insurance form she held in her trembling hands and smearing the newly written ink.

  Rachel continued to observe the officer as he walked toward her. A chill ran across her skin as the six-foot, five uniformed man closed in, invading her personal space. Her pen slipped from her shaky fingers, bounced across the counter, then spun to a stop at the officer’s feet.

  Rachel glanced up, her eyes locking on his face. A railroad-track scar pattern ran from his left ear to his right eye by way of the bridge of his nose. A scowl distorted his face, shaping his eyes into thin slits as he towered over her. His lips parted and Rachel stared back at the sharp row of teeth underneath. The officer stared at her a moment, then he leaned down and picked up the pen, his gaze fixing on the fake insurance form in Rachel’s hands.

  “Who were the two men that just walked out of the lobby?” the officer demanded in a low, raspy voice.

  “I’m sorry…” She squinted up at his badge. “Officer Duprey. We have a strict patient confidentiality policy here.”

  “You’re obstructing the law. Just tell me who they are, now!” The officer persisted.

  “Not without a court order,” Rachel snapped. She knew her job…and the confidentiality laws.

  The huge man’s face darkened. His throat swelled like
a balloon, exposing an array of spider web-like blue and red veins. He reached forward, latching onto Rachel’s wrist and pulled her in close with a painful twisting motion.

  “You’ll regret this!” he said, his icy stare boring into her.

  Rachel cringed, but she wasn’t going to let him intimidate her. She narrowed her gaze. Clenched her jaw… and stared right into his cold black eyes for what seemed like a full minute.

  Finally, his lip curled into a snarl…and he released her, then turned and marched out of the lobby.

   

  ***

   

  Lost in thought, Stanic drove toward the safety of Rachel’s home with Valentine in the passenger seat. The FBI agent hadn’t said a word since they got in the car and was probably thinking along the same lines he was. They were in serious trouble without any clear course of action for the immediate future. The elements of their dilemma presented a grim scenario and they both knew it.

  Stanic thought back to just a few hours earlier and his normal routine…what should have been a relaxing jog before a productive workday. Then he thought about Rachel and how much he loved her. A wave of regret flooded over him. He hadn’t thought things through. They needed help and she was able to do it. He’d taken advantage of their relationship…and in doing that, he’d put her life at risk. If anything happened to her, he was to blame.  “Damn.” He pounded his hand on the steering wheel.

  “What now?” Valentine perked up.

  “Sorry. It’s nothing, just thinking about what to do.”

  “The Stelino family owns this town,” Valentine said, “I hope you fully understand that we can’t go to, or trust, the police in this city.” He paused. “To make things worse, the officer at the hospital may have recognized me, which means Rachel could be in danger.”

  “Then we need a plan…and fast,” Stanic said, glancing at the man next to him. “Let’s just get to Rachel’s house where we can figure something out.”

  “Don’t worry, mate, I think I’ve got a plan.”

  Stanic rolled his eyes…sucked in a slow, deep breath…then another.

  “You think you have a plan, or you actually have a plan, which is it?”

   

  ***

   

  Rachel’s hands were shaking, her stomach tied in knots, and she felt a little dizzy. She was finally able to pull in a deep breath as she watched the officer storm away from the front lobby. Relief flooded through her as she filled her lungs with air. She raised her chin and then turned and ambled back to her office as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.