BLOODBORNE: THE CHANGED BOOK 1

by S. M. LITTLE

  Bill Jorgensen was a jack of all trades. He was the high school quarterback, who at one time was known for his ability to attract all the girls, he now had his own business doing all sorts of odd jobs for people.

  The last call was one that was tough for Dylan to make. His name was Larry Oldman, and he used to be Dylan’s best friend. They grew up together, joined the Marines together, went through boot camp together. The only ‘together’ that Dylan didn’t like was when Larry tried to ‘get together’ with April while Dylan was overseas. Yes, it was true that Dylan and April were not dating at the time, but you just don’t do that to a brother.

  In the end Dylan relented and Glenn made the call. He told Larry to meet him at April’s parents’ house. Within the next hour, they all showed up except for Larry. During the call, Larry had expressed his reluctance to come over, because he felt it might be a trap. Things between Larry and the close-knit group had turned sour after his failed attempt to win over April while Dylan was gone.

  Dylan got tired of waiting on Larry and started the little meeting.

  “Hey guys, it’s good to see you all again. I know the years have gone by, and we all have some catching up to do, but that needs to wait. You all have been watching TV and saw the President’s speech, correct?” Dylan started. They all nodded in acknowledgement.

  “Good. Here’s the deal. What you saw and heard is true. It really is happening,” Dylan told them. He continued to talk, telling them about the airport, April, and her parents. He had just finished telling them the story when a voice sounded from the back of the room.

  “So, you killed her?” the voice asked. Dylan froze at the sound of the voice.

  “Huh, you made it,” Dylan said as he shot a glare towards the voice. “Guys, you remember Larry. I know I haven’t forgotten him.”

  The temperature in the room cooled dramatically as tension filled the air. They all knew what had happened, but had always deferred to Dylan, because it was his place to seek retribution, not them.

  The men watched as Dylan stared at Larry. Larry approached Dylan with anger in his heart. He had never gotten over April’s rejection of him and blamed Dylan for it. Larry had not had a relationship with anyone since.

  “You killed her?” Larry asked again, coming face to face with Dylan.

  “Let’s get something straight, right here and right now,” Dylan seethed. “What I’m asking for transcends our past. Our past does not matter, because if we can’t come together, we will all die. I am asking for help to save everyone we care about.”

  “The only thing I cared about, you killed today,” Larry said, anger dripping from his every word.

  “That may be, but she’s gone, and so will a lot of other innocent people if we don’t act. You remember those people, don’t you, Larry?” Dylan egged him on. “You know, civilians that did nothing wrong, like those in Africa?”

  Larry’s eyes widened and flared with fury. He had no idea that Dylan knew about that.

  “Don’t you dare bring that up,” Larry seethed. “That wasn’t my fault.”

  “Even so, you know what happened. Wouldn’t you like to redeem yourself? I’m sure your tormented soul would,” Dylan hit back. He knew he had him.

  Dylan watched as Larry’s fist clenched tight and then relaxed. Larry turned, without saying a word, and sat down.

  Dylan continued speaking to the group.

  “April’s parents had changed and I had no choice. They attacked me and I did what was necessary,” Dylan told them. With that, he nodded to Glenn and Glenn removed the rug covering the bodies of April’s parents. They were lying on the floor, where they were in plain view of everyone.

  Gasps could be heard around the room as they all saw what would happen if they were ever bitten. The parents were still green, their veins still protruding, but they were starting to fade in color. Before, they had been a bright green, now they were more of a pea soup green.

  “You can plainly see I’m not lying,” Dylan said. His words were for everyone, but his eyes were glued to Larry. “If we don’t do something, this is our fate.”

  “Do you have a plan?” Scott asked him.

  “Yes, I do. We will use this house as our home base. We will train, and then go out into the world and protect those that are still alive, and kill every last one of these things,” Dylan said, pointing to the bodies.

  “Why here?” Tim asked.

  “Because this property is huge. It has the resources and space we will need. Nobody in this room has anything close to what this place offers,” Dylan said, then paused. “And April would want us to.”

  “I’m already in,” Glenn told them. “Who else?”

  They all looked at each other, nodded and stood up. They looked at Dylan and smiled.

  “Wipe those smiles off your faces. You are now part of the Minnesota Changed Militia, and we do not smile. We will be killers, feared soldiers that the Changed will run from, and we will enjoy it,” Dylan shouted.

  All together they shouted back, “Ooh Rah!”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  DULUTH, MINNESOTA

  For the next several days Dylan put his men through their paces. He would never hope to make them seasoned Marines but wanted to give them enough skills to keep them alive.

  They all went their separate ways after the meeting. They had been given orders to round up every vital piece of equipment or supplies they could. Every rifle they had, every last round of ammunition, every piece of food, anything that they would need to survive and carry out their mission.

  Dylan took them through physical training, marksmanship, tactics, and team hierarchy on a daily basis.

  Every day started off by reciting the mission of the group. “Defend the innocent, kill the Changed. Whatever it takes.”

  The property, and all its buildings, would serve them well. It was a three hundred-acre spread with a large main house, a guest cabin down by the pond, and a massive pole building that housed all sorts of tools. It was there that Gadget found his Disneyland.

  Once Dylan felt the men were ready, he assembled them together in the pole building.

  “Guys, listen up. We’re going into Duluth today. I want to find out how the cops are doing and let them know we are here. I want to scope out the situation and gather intel. This is strictly a recon mission only, no cowboy shit,” Dylan told them, but was looking at Larry. “Group up into fire teams and let’s move!”

  They all moved into the correct teams, falling in behind the leader of each fire team. Team one was Dylan, Glenn, Robert, and Bill. Team two was led by Larry, followed by Scott, Tim, and Randy. They all had radios for communication and had been taught how and when to use them.

  After assembling in teams, they moved to the vehicles. They had two cargo conversion vans that they had “acquired” and once loaded up they headed to town.

  The ride into town was adventurous, to say the least. Society was in crumbles, at least in Duluth. Duluth’s main industry was as a port city, along with tourism. Many people visited the city, coming via the ships or other means of transportation. All the people in the city made it a prime target for both Changed and humans.

  Gang violence had escalated overnight. It was becoming common knowledge that “safety in numbers” was more than a phrase. Recruitment for gangs had risen because people feared the Changed. One gang might offer protection, while others offered weapons. It really depended on which gang it was.

  The city police were not in sight, at least in the part of the city the teams were currently traveling through. They were coming in from the northwest, on Observation Road. The police station, and the first stop they wanted to make, was located on the corner of West Michigan Street and South Third Avenue. Several city blocks lay between them and the station.

  “Head’s up, stay sharp,” Dylan said over the radio. They had civilian CBs to use but only one per vehicle. Dylan knew the action would start to pick up and wanted everyone to be on alert.

  No so
oner had he said that than a group of Greens rounded a corner. Van One slowed as the guys opened the side door and they proceeded to shoot each of the Greens in a drive by fashion. Dylan was not driving, he also was not shooting, because he wanted his guys to get used to shooting while on the move. It was hard to practice that skill back at base, and there was no better time to learn than now.

  “Van Two, pull into lead position,” Dylan said on the radio. He wanted each person to shoot while moving, so alternating the lead position was part of the plan.

  Van Two roared in front of them and cut them off. Dylan knew it was Larry driving, and he was not happy with the decision.

  “Van Two, watch your speed and angles,” Dylan barked over the radio.

  “Aye, aye…captain,” Larry snarked back.

  Dylan just shook his head, he knew Larry was trying to provoke him.

  They were two blocks away from their destination when Dylan heard the commotion.

  “Large crowd in front of the police station,” Larry reported back.

  “Pull up in front of the door and block it off,” Dylan said. He watched as Larry barged his way through the crowd and pulled up in front of the police department doors. He had angled diagonally away from the building with the sliding door facing the station. Van One pulled in behind them and sealed the blockade. People started pounding on the vans, some yelling obscenities and others begging for help.

  Dylan jumped out, telling his crew to hold their ground and only fire if fired upon. Larry jumped out of Van Two and started to follow him.

  “No, you stay here and keep these people from getting inside. Glenn, you’re with me,” Dylan barked out.

  Larry was fuming but did as he was told. Dylan and Glenn walked inside and took a quick look around. The station was a zoo. Cops were running around with no sense of order. They all looked haggard, weary, and drained of energy.

  “We’re a little busy for complaints right now,” a sergeant told him. “Come back later.” They hadn’t even made it to the front desk before they were told to leave.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t know the station was closed,’ Dylan barked.

  “It’s not closed, we’re just busy,” the sergeant said. He looked like he hadn’t slept in a week.

  “I need to see the chief of police,” Dylan said.

  “Don’t we all,” the sergeant replied. “Listen, we really don’t have time for any crap. If you stay in your homes, we will get to you as soon as we can.”

  “That’s not why I’m here, now let me see the chief,” Dylan said.

  The sergeant finally took a long look at Dylan and gave in. “Follow me,” he said.

  They followed the sergeant as he walked towards the back of the station. A quick knock on a door and they were in.

  “Two guys to see you, Chief,” the sergeant said.

  If the sergeant looked tired, the chief looked damn near dead. Dark circles enveloped baggy, red eyes. Eyes screaming for sleep centered the pale face of a man that now looked twice his age.

  “Dylan, is that you?” the chief asked.

  “Yes, it’s me Coach,” Dylan responded. Dylan was looking into the eyes of their old football coach, John Walker. “You look like shit.”

  “Thanks. How did you know I was here?” John asked him.

  “April told me about it when you were elected,” Dylan told him.

  “Ah, yes. April. How is she?” John asked.

  “Dead,” Dylan responded. There was no emotion in his voice.

  John looked down into his lap, mumbled some words, and made the sign of the cross.

  “I’m sorry, Dylan. She was a right good girl,” John said.

  “Yes, she was,” Dylan replied.

  “What is it I can do for you?” John asked. “As you can see, we’re swamped here.”

  “Maybe it’s what can I do for you,” Dylan said.

  The chief just looked at him quizzically. He had no idea what Dylan was talking about.

  “I am in a position to aid you and your men. You remember I was a Force Recon Marine, correct?” Dylan asked.

  “Of course I do,” John answered. “I helped you get there.”

  “Yes, you did,” Dylan smirked as visions of the old coach yelling at him in the weight room came back. “I have assembled a team to help in this time of crisis. We are the Minnesota Changed Militia, MCM for short.”

  The Chief gave a literal sigh and his shoulders slumped in relief.

  “You can? MCM?” John said. “I guess I’m too tired to fully grasp what you’re saying. Don’t get me wrong, having Marines here to help is a life saver, but I still don’t follow.”

  “Coach, listen to me when I say that you need our help. We can help protect the honest citizens and kill the Changed,” Dylan told him.

  “We can’t kill them, the president said it’s against the law,” John told him.

  “That jackass doesn’t know his head from a hooker,” Dylan said. “These things can’t be bargained with, or talked to, or reasoned with. There is only one option, and we have to act before it’s too late.” Dylan went on to tell him about the airport, leaving out the details of April’s attack and subsequent death.

  “That was you?” John asked.

  “Yes, it was. I know how to stop these things and I know how to protect us all,” Dylan responded. “What say you, Chief Walker?”

  “I’m in. What do you want me to do?” John asked.

  “First, my team needs some heavy-duty weapons. Was the Guard called out yet?” Dylan asked.

  “Yes, they were overrun. What is left of them are heading for the Apostle Islands,” John said. The Apostle Islands were a chain of islands off the northern coast of Wisconsin in Lake Superior.

  “Good, we need to get to the armory and ‘borrow’ some weapons,” Dylan said while using air quotes around the term borrow. “Next thing. You need to start an emergency camp inside the harbor. Block it off any way you can. Use the water as a shield on your backside against the Changed and start building some walls on the front. That will help keep people protected.”

  “Can these things swim?” John asked.

  “I have no idea, but you can keep boats moving in the water to protect the people from the lake. Start setting up basic services inside the walls. Medical should be first,” Dylan told him. The chief was busy scratching down every word Dylan said. He was too tired to trust himself to remember.

  “Get food and clothing down there. Set up water purification stations. Set up guard watches and get your people some sleep. If all else fails, you can use the ships to escape,” Dylan finished.

  “How can I get ahold of you?” John asked.

  “After we raid the armory, I will have a radio you can use to contact me. We will always be available to help you, but we will be busy killing the Changed and saving who we can,” Dylan said.

  “I can’t thank you enough for this,” John told him as he extended his hand.

  Dylan accepted the handshake and left the chief with one final warning. “You need to figure out a way to weed out people that have been infected BEFORE they get into the camp. It would do you no good to set up all of this and have a Changed get in through the front door.”

  “How do I do that?” John asked.

  “I don’t know, but you need to. Call the university and see if they have any info,” Dylan told him. He was referring to the University of Minnesota, Duluth.

  “I’ll be back in a couple of days with that radio.” Dylan ended the handshake and walked out the door. There were still so many things left to do.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  DULUTH, MINNESOTA

  Chief Walker had been at it for more hours than he could count. He had followed the advice of Dylan and, with his staff, started to re-organize the harbor area to take in civilians. To anyone not familiar with life by a harbor, it might have looked crazy. Large sea-going vessels that were docked had been emptied of every container they had. The containers were moved and stacked to f
orm a large barricade around one of the piers.

  On the southwest side of the harbor, large channels had been carved out of the earth, providing ‘slips’ for the large container vessels to dock. Some of the ships were cargo holders, used for grains and ores mined and farmed in Minnesota. The remaining ground between the slips formed the piers that were used to off-load the ships. Most of the piers were full of parts, equipment and other items.

  One pier was only partially finished and held absolutely nothing as it had not been put into use yet. It was very large, but not large enough to accommodate every person in the area. However, it was a start, and that was better than nothing.

  “Keep stacking those containers. We need them to go all along the perimeter,” Chief Walker told his workers. He had recruited a ton of volunteers once the word got out about what was really happening.

  “Where do you want medical set up?” a volunteer from the hospital asked him.

  “One set up near the entrance for intake, and another in the middle of the platform,” Walker answered. He wanted everyone coming in checked while also having the ability to treat the people once they were inside. Medical may very well be the most important thing he established in the safe zone he was creating.

  He had another idea that just hit him.

  “Hey, get those container ships from over there,” he yelled at someone, pointing at the ships, “and get them parked in these two slips.” He wanted to have some form of escape if things got worse. Two men, part of the volunteers from the vessels docked at the port, ran to the ships. Soon, both ships were powering up to get into position.

  “Do we know if these things can swim?” Walker shouted out. He had become accustomed to people staying close to him to act as runners and messengers if he ordered something.

  “Not sure yet,” a meek voice responded. It was a teenage girl that looked vaguely familiar.

  Walker turned to look and was surprised to see her.

  “Who are you?” Walker asked.

  “My name is Jill,” she said. “My mom was killed by one of those things.”