The Sergeant nodded. “He's well liked. There's a reason he's been Mayor for so long.”
Aaron felt sorry for the girl. “So Alice became an outcast?”
Ellis shook his head slowly. “Always was one. She never did fit in here. They chased her out of town soon after and she never came back.”
It took a moment for Aaron to ponder on the subject, but something about what the clientele of the diner said came to mind. “Some of the people inside seem to think that Sam Mitchell came back from the dead to kill his parents and that Alice Delaney's controlling him. Do you think any of that is true?”
Sergeant Ellis almost laughed, but quickly stopped himself as he thought about it further. “Little Alice? Heck no. The girl loved Simon and Olivia. She was harmless enough, just misunderstood.” A look of dread crossed the man's face as he thought about it more. “I did see Sam the other night though. I'm certain it was him. He spoke to me, but he was all confused. Kept hollering about how hungry he was and then there was the biting…” It was easy to see how disturbed the officer was by what he had seen as he absently scratched at the bandage on his arm.
Aaron gently eased his next question in to the conversation. “We want to help him, but we really need to know where he went. I promise he won't come to any harm.” Tommy looked a little confused, but let Aaron continue regardless. “We want to find Sam as much as you do.”
Sergeant Ellis looked at them both again, examining their faces as if he was trying to commit them to memory. “As I said before, he loved his folks. My guess is he’s heading down to see them. I may have let it slip to him that they moved...”
With a thankful smile, Aaron spoke softly. “Thank you, Sergeant Ellis. You've saved lives today.”
Sergeant Bob Ellis didn't seem convinced, but he did appear to be somewhat relieved. “There were sightings of him near the rail line. I'm guessing he stowed away and is long gone. It runs from coast to coast, so it's a straight shot from here to Florida. The trains are slow, so if you're quick you might be able catch him along the way.”
The rail line meant that Sam was travelling down a set path and should be easy for them to track down, but he had a head start. Despite his advantage, it looked like their luck was finally picking up. Aaron felt truly thankful for the Sergeants help. “We really appreciate it. And I promise we won't trouble you or anyone else here anymore. We’ll leave first thing in the morning. Right, Tommy?”
His companion didn't manage much more than a stutter. “R… right, yeah.”
The Sergeant nodded his satisfaction, stroking his moustache with his thumb and forefinger. “Don't go venturing out tonight. I can't keep my eye on everyone in town.” It was sound advice. Tommy had angered the locals and there was no telling what they would do without the presence of the local police. It was best not to tempt fate and avoid as many people as possible.
Aaron thanked the Sergeant once more and hopped back into the truck with Tommy hot on his trail. “Let's head straight to the motel. I don't want to run into the wrong people… We should leave before sunrise too.”
Tommy nodded, not having fully relaxed from their last encounter with Sergeant Ellis. He would need time and Aaron understood that. Tommy had seen the darker side of law enforcement growing up and had the scars to prove it, both mental and physical. There were some things he would likely never get over or recover from.
On the bright side, they now had a target and destination, with a new case to give them purpose. In the morning they would head east, following the rail line with the hope of catching Samuel Mitchell before he made it to his parents home in Florida, or failing that, be able to track him down in the Sunshine State itself. The hunt was on.
Chapter Three: The hunter or the hunted.
The last few days had been a little rough, but Sam had finally made it to his destination of Fort Lauderdale, down on the southeast coast of Florida. It had been a long journey of self discovery, and he had learned a great deal about this new existence already. However none of it could prepare him for the trials that were yet to come.
The train that Sam had jumped aboard near Birchfield had only taken him so far, as a fallen tree on the line resulted in unbearably long delays. Adapting to the situation, he abandoned his original plan and hid himself within the trailer of a semi truck. He had overheard the driver talking on the phone at a gas station and had discovered that he was scheduled to transport grain to a depot close to the town where his parents lived.
Sam was convinced that it was going to be an easy ride across the country after that, however things hadn't gone so smoothly since then either. Newly emerging weaknesses threw a wrench into his plans, as they brought with them a need to adapt quickly to difficult situations as they arose. It had been an exhausting few days since his departure from Birchfield, but he had eventually emerged from his trials in triumph.
A great deal of the problems that Sam encountered along the way had stemmed from an emerging allergy that appeared to come out of nowhere. When exposed to direct sunlight, he would break out in a rash that covered any parts of his skin that the sun's rays had touched. It wasn’t all that painful at first, offering nothing but a mild discomfort and he wasn’t too bothered by the itching that it caused, that was until open sores began to develop due to extended exposure. After that, the ‘pox’ as Sam called it, became so unpleasant at times that he learned to avoid daylight whenever possible. The symptoms took their toll and resulted in him only wanting to move around at night, operating under the light of the moon and stars instead. Although it was during the daylight hours that the second part of his affliction would also come into play.
In the dark, Sam felt alert and ready for anything, as if he had the strength to take on the world. However, during the waking hours of the day he felt weak and apathetic. It was a draining sort of sickness that sapped his energy and made him want to hide away. The way it made his body feel was nothing short of strange, but he managed to push through the exhaustion, as tough as that could be at times. It was the kind of tiredness that couldn't be overcome through the usual rest and relaxation. He no longer needed to sleep in the traditional sense, instead feeling strong and alert again as soon as the sun had set.
As if Sam’s vulnerability to natural light wasn’t bad enough, there was one thing that controlled him more than the rising and setting of the sun. An intense hunger grew inside of him, boiling up from somewhere deep down. This ravenous appetite had become so insatiable that it left him powerless to resist. He had been hungry before, but the hunger that humans experienced didn’t come anywhere close to this. Sam used to be able to keep his wits about him, but now he struggled to think of anything other than feeding. Finding the source of his next meal was something that motivated his actions first and foremost, and those gluttonous thoughts couldn’t simply be ignored.
It didn't take Sam long to discover that it was no longer food that he required. He didn’t eat like a human anymore, which made him realise that he wasn't one any longer. He could consume food if he wished, but it left him bloated and didn’t satisfy the hunger. Not only that, but he would have to expel whatever he had ingested within a few hours, through any means possible, or face some extremely unpredictable and unfortunately unpleasant consequences.
No, Sam’s body craved a different form of sustenance. Not meat, nor vegetable, but the life force of all living beings. Blood. The lust for blood had become his true master and he was its unwilling puppet. He could obey its will and thrive, or ignore its call and suffer an excruciating pain that would only intensify over time. If left unchecked, he was sure that it would eventually cripple his body, fast becoming a fate worse than death. Nothing could be worse than being imprisoned in a decaying corpse in excruciating agony as he denied himself his only salvation.
It wasn’t all bad however. Sam was physically stronger than before and much faster than he had ever been in life, even at his peak. His hand eye coordination was fine tuned to a level that he had previously believed i
mpossible and his senses had reached another state entirely. It would have been a truly liberating experience had he not been left feeling imprisoned by the new limitations that had been imposed upon his body.
Ingesting blood wasn’t so terrible either. The taste of it was a revelation and nothing else in the world could compare. Drinking vitae straight from the source felt unbelievable in more ways than one. It was remarkably delicious, and the way that it made Sam feel was intoxicating. It left him with a feeling of euphoria that he hadn’t felt since… Well, he hadn’t felt it since the day he died, and apparently that was quite some time ago. The blood wet his tongue and trickled down his throat, causing him to lose himself in the moment. It was as if nothing else mattered to him. He didn’t care about anything else in the world, until it was all over and he came to his senses once more.
However much Sam enjoyed the experience itself, the thought of sinking his teeth into human flesh still made him feel a little queasy. He had to convince himself that the whole process was just a means to an end, but that didn’t help him forget the atrocities that he had committed to survive. He had only managed to feed a couple of times so far, but the act had been somewhat problematic. It was as if his mouth wasn’t quite designed for the task, and the mess it made was horrific.
Sam was certain that there was still a great deal more to learn about his recent changes, and he had an inkling that the knowledge would come to him in time. It was exciting to know that there was still so much left to discover and that every night could bring fresh understanding. The upcoming weeks and months were likely going to be a long and gruelling transition period with a steep learning curve. Unfortunately, Sam still didn't have a notion of what he had become. He wondered if anyone out there knew what he was, or if there was anyone else like him. If not, was he doomed to wander alone? The uncertainty of it was terrifying.
Sam was sure that he would never be able to forget those that he had harmed, no matter how much he wanted to. He could still remember the look on the woman’s face as he bit down on her neck, and the deafening screams that followed. The cries had penetrated his soul and had left a permanent scar. He didn’t like hurting people, but it seemed to be integral to his survival now. Sam genuinely felt remorseful, but he wasn’t ready to give up on himself yet. Not again.
The struggle wasn’t all that Sam remembered from the night of his rebirth. The woman’s husband had been there too. He had pulled a gun and soon after he too found himself at the mercy of Sam’s vicious bite. He couldn’t recall how he had managed to overpower someone so much larger than himself, only that he had. There had been a child present too, but they were small and far too weak to be worth the trouble. However, that child had called for the police and soon after Sam had found himself at the mercy of Sergeant Bob Ellis.
Sam had demanded to know the truth. Why were those people in his house? Where were his mom and dad? He had been yelling for answers, but none had come. He just wanted to let his parents know that he was okay, but no-one had been willing to help him. And where was Alice? Was she okay? He desperately wanted to talk to his best friend. No, he needed to talk to her! He needed her to tell him that everything was going to be alright! Sam felt awful for cutting her out of his life and he wanted to make amends, but no-one was willing to help him! He just needed some help!
The woman had cried out, the man had threatened him and the little girl had burst into tears, but in his confusion Sam just couldn’t understand why they wouldn’t help him. He couldn’t comprehend it. At least Bob seemed to offer some support and guidance. At least that’s what Sam thought he was trying to do. It’s not as if the events were clear in his mind.
Sam remembered Bob. He knew him as one of his father’s oldest friends and the Sergeant had been part of their lives for as long as he could remember. The look of surprise and disgust on the man’s face was sobering and helped him regain at least some of his composure. However, his brain was still clouded from the voracious hunger and he had struggled to hold a conversation. Bob had tried his best to calm him, as another cop left to call for an ambulance and most likely some backup.
Sam couldn't recall if the Sergeant had let him go, or if he had somehow escaped, but he did remember that someone had mentioned his family moving to Florida. They must have moved there to be near Auntie Jane and so he knew that it wouldn’t be hard for him to find them. Auntie Jane was extremely active on social media and shared pretty much anything about her life, much to the annoyance of others.
After that, it had been just a matter of fleeing town and hopping in to an open shipping container aboard an eastbound train. Sam wasn’t sure if he was being followed or not, but he didn’t want to take the risk. He was hopeful that the police would treat the case as a local matter and they wouldn’t involve the State Troopers or even the Feds. Bob Ellis wouldn’t turn him over, would he? He wouldn’t put others on to his scent. Despite what had happened and how he had acted, he had to believe that a family friend wouldn’t betray him.
**********
Nothing seemed more strange to Sam than creeping through the bushes in the middle of the day to spy on his own family. Hopefully the neighbours wouldn’t call the police to report the strange man lurking on the property. He wasn’t ready to knock on the door outright, announcing that he had mysteriously returned from the grave and that all their grieving was for naught.
Sam felt like a creep, but he didn’t know how else to see his mom and dad before they could lay eyes upon him and jump to conclusions. Then again, what conclusion could they possibly come to? That he faked his own death? That he was some sort tormented spirit coming back to haunt them? Or maybe they would think that it was some sort of government cover-up and that he had been in hiding all this time. The truth of the situation wasn’t exactly easy to comprehend or even accept. He had come back to life, for whatever reason, and he had to make the most of it.
The sun was high in the sky, causing another rash to break out across Sam's body, and his only defense against it was the dirty shirt and tattered suit that he had been buried in. His surprise visit could have waited until after nightfall, but he desperately wanted to see his parents and wasn't willing to hold out for even a few more minutes, never mind several hours.
To help remedy the situation, Sam had managed to salvage an old hooded sweatshirt by digging through a nearby dumpster, using it to replace the plastic tarp that he had been sheltering under up until that point. The hoody smelled like rotting trash and offended Sam's overly sensitive nostrils, but the extra layer offered the protection that he sorely needed. He knew that he looked like a hobo, but it was just a temporary measure that would have to work until he located a fresh set of clothing.
It was supposed to be unbearably hot in Florida, but for some reason Sam didn’t really feel the heat. His limbs were weary from moving about during the day, but he didn’t seem to perspire at all and he felt as comfortable there as he did anywhere else. He had become accustomed to humidity growing up, although he would still sweat on exceptionally hot days, but it didn’t seem to phase him at all now. Sam could sense the extreme temperature, and yet he didn’t suffer from it. There was something about the lack of moisture on his body that was strangely unsettling, but he chalked it up to the changes that he had been going through. Perhaps it was just a phase, or maybe it was a permanent part of his transformation and he would be immune to any changes in climate in the future. There was no way to be sure.
The house itself was very different from the one Sam had known growing up. It was definitely smaller, with three bedrooms instead of four, and a single bathroom instead of two, but the size wasn’t the main difference that he had noticed. The shape of the building was off, as it was only a one story building, with no basement to speak of. To his knowledge, houses in Florida tended not to have them due to the swampy nature of the landscape. The yellow painted walls of the house definitely screamed ‘Sunshine State’, and were a far cry from the plain white siding of their old home in Kansas. Th
ere wasn’t much of a yard either, with a few withered shrubs, some overgrown bushes and a chain link fence separating them from the street by only a couple of feet.
Sam imagined that the new living conditions took a while for his parents to get used to. He was sure that they must have felt a little cramped and closed in for the first few months at least, but he knew that his mom would have done her best to decorate and make the place feel like home. What was it that she used to say? “Home is where your family is.” Yes, that was it. How could he forget?
Scrambling on all fours, Sam squeezed in between the leaves of a particularly thick bush outside what he believed to be the living room window, and that's when he saw them, surrounded by familiar looking furniture in a familiar setting. He resisted pressing his nose up to the window to get a better look, deciding to peek through the bottom pane while trying to remain as inconspicuous as possible.
Sam could see them clearly through the dirt stained glass. His mom, his dad and to his surprise a baby dressed in pink. A little girl. A sister. His first thought was that his parents had decided to replace him, but that idea quickly passed and he soon realised that they had taken what chance they could to live a happy life following his unfortunate death. It must have been difficult for them to cope and he wished that he could take their pain away, but that just wasn’t possible. He couldn't change the past, but perhaps he could ease their sorrows by revealing himself to them. However, he would have to time his appearance perfectly to avoid any further upset.
As Sam pondered the situation, he realised that his parents weren’t alone with their daughter, and that they had visitors who he didn’t recognise. They were two young men by the look of it, both in their late twenties at least, but it was hard to tell as they had their backs to him. Both of them were sitting on the old, leather couch that his dad used to take naps on, right across the wooden coffee table from his parents and within arms reach of them. Sam didn’t know who they were, but he was instantly filled with feelings of distrust. His instincts flared up as a warning that these people meant to cause him harm. They must have known that he was alive and were there to take him in, but who did they work for and what were their intentions? They sure didn't look like cops or the FBI.
Blood of the Forsaken Page 4