Even The Dead Will Bleed

by Steven Ramirez

  “Oh . . .” Why did I? When I went to Hellborn I had a plan. Then I let my feelings in and took a huge left turn. “I guess because . . . it was the right thing to do.”

  Smiling sadly he clasped my shoulder and squeezed it. Then we walked back inside. Everyone was in the kitchen, standing around the island. Karen had poured out brandy for Isaac, Maritza and herself. When she saw us she poured one for Vlad. I went to the refrigerator, helped myself to a Jarritos Mandarin and stood next to Maritza.

  “She’s having a nice hot bath,” Karen said to Vlad.

  “Thank you.”

  “In fact, I’ll go and check on her.” She drained her glass and left the room.

  “I am sorry,” Vlad said to Isaac. “Sasha should have tests.”

  Isaac smiled. “Glad you feel that way.” He took a swallow of his drink and, savoring the warmth, leaned forward. “Dave, we’ve made some progress regarding the virus since you’ve been away. I have a lab now, and a few new researchers have joined me.”

  “Where? San Francisco?”

  “Tres Marias.”

  I wasn’t sure that I’d heard Isaac correctly and had to stop and think for a moment. “But I thought the place was deserted.”

  “We’re rebuilding. The governor officially declared the town a disaster area, which qualified it for federal funds. FEMA and other government agencies are assisting with the cleanup. And we’ve reopened the isolation facility for research.”

  “I can’t believe it.”

  “It’s my hope that after we get these latest test results from St. Lazarus, I can take Sasha with me to Tres Marias.” Then to Vlad, “Of course, I want you to come with us.”

  “What about security?” I said. “Is there a police force?”

  “No.” He paused, then smiling said, “Black Dragon is in charge again.”

  “What? Who’s running the operation?”

  “Nathan Warnick.”

  I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Warnick had been my rock throughout this entire nightmare. He had stood by me when Holly was killed. In the end he saved me from a lone dragger—an undead teenager who had me cornered. And he had helped me bury my wife. When I left, Warnick, Griffin and Fabian were scheduled to go to Atlanta.

  “What about Griffin and Fabian?”

  “They’re still in Atlanta. Oh, and another piece of news. They got married.”

  “I need a drink,” I said.

  Dead silence. Then Maritza handed me my soda. “Drink up.”

  Later as I lay on my bed listening to the rain, I had an overwhelming urge to go to Maritza. I wanted to be with her so much—lie next to her, feeling her warmth. It wasn’t even about the sex. I wanted her close. She was the red silken thread keeping me connected to . . . what? Sanity? I only knew that without her I would fall into darkness again.

  Vlad had too much brandy and was snoring like a walrus in the other bed. I got up and went into the living room, heading for the French doors. I didn’t want to open them, though. The security alarm was on and I didn’t know the code. So I stood there, watching through leaded glass as the rain fell steadily. I thought I heard a night hawk. The sound transported me back to Tres Marias and those nights when I would wander through the forest with my friend Jim. But it wasn’t a bird—it was a death shriek.

  Turning, I noticed a figure in a corner, pressed against the wall. When I saw the glowing purple eyes I knew it was Sasha. Adhesive tape hung from one hand where her IV needle had been. She was holding something—I couldn’t tell what.

  “Sasha,” I said, my voice hushed.

  She stood there, her gaze never leaving mine, breathing regularly. It was like the sound of a bellows. Then she raised her head and with another shriek she ran towards me. That’s when I saw the knife.

  “Sasha, no!” I said.

  She raised the weapon and tried to slice my arm. I grabbed her wrist and twisted it. I could feel her strength and was worried that she would overpower me. Focusing all my energy on my hand, I continued clamping down on her wrist, making her scream like an animal.

  Footsteps. Soon others were in the room. Someone switched on the lights. Now I heard voices—Vlad and Isaac. Then Karen and Maritza.

  Vlad rushed to my defense and attempted to take the knife away.

  “Noooooo!” Sasha said, her voice like burnt metal. “Let me do this!” She twisted her hand free and cut her brother’s forearm. But when she saw what she’d done, a look of shock froze her expression and her eyes dulled to normal. “Vlad!”

  I had almost let my guard down when Sasha’s eyes glowed fiercely again. I didn’t dare punch her in the diaphragm because of the baby but knew I needed to do something. So I clocked her. Groaning, she lost her footing and staggered back. Then Isaac lunged forward and jabbed her arm with a needle. In a few seconds Sasha dropped the knife and sank into Vlad’s arms.

  “Hungry,” she said.

  Vlad and I tied Sasha to the bed again while Isaac reinserted the IV and Karen and Maritza stood in the doorway, both of them looking frightened.

  “She’ll sleep now,” Isaac said.

  Vlad glanced down at his bandaged arm. “I will stay with her.”

  As Isaac closed the bedroom door he touched my arm. “There’s some good news in all this.”

  “The fact that nobody died?”

  “Yes, and something else. Whatever it is the virus is doing to her, I think she might have the ability to control it. When she hurt her brother, she stopped.”

  “Yeah, for a second.”

  “But don’t you see, that’s something. Those other cutters you’ve run across. They don’t stop, right?”

  “No.”

  “There is something extraordinary about her.”

  Though sleep was out of the question, I had to rest. As I lay in bed I thought of Ariel. If we had given her a chance would she have overcome the raging hunger the virus had induced? We’d been too afraid and put a bullet in her. Would we make the same mistake with the Russian girl?

  If we did, an innocent child would pay the price.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  St. Lazarus

  I couldn’t sleep, so I went into the den to watch the local news. More bodies had been discovered the previous night. This time it was a homeless family living out of their car—a man, woman and small boy. Like the others, all had been flayed and eaten, and the bodies left in a dumpster.

  Another ABC7 reporter—some guy I didn’t recognize—was interviewing Police Chief Hughes. As usual, the cop tried to downplay the latest incident, but the reporter was persistent.

  “Chief Hughes, any updates on the serial killer or killers?”

  “At this time, we are pursuing a number of promising leads.”

  “I’m sure you’re doing everything you can. Any idea about the motive?”

  “We now believe that the murders are linked to a satanic cult. Evidence has shown that these killings are ritualistic in nature.”

  “Can you provide details?”

  “Not at this time.”

  “Chief Hughes, people are very frightened. What can you tell them?”

  The cop grabbed the reporter’s microphone and looked directly into the camera. “The job of the LAPD is to keep our citizens safe. We will catch whoever is responsible and bring them to justice. If you have any information about these killings, please call our anonymous crime hotline.” He gave out an 800-number.

  “Thank you, sir,” the reporter said. “Back to you, guys.”

  I turned to find Maritza standing in the doorway, staring at the large flat screen TV. She wore a strange expression. “I didn’t see you,” I said. “Did that seemed staged to you?”

  “Yeah. It’s not Jerry’s fault. Someone gave him a script, and he’s following it.” By the look in her eyes she was far away. “I spoke to Nate this morning. They’re putting me on an extended leave of absence.”

  “For how long?”

  “He wouldn’t say. David, I think someone got to him.
They don’t want me reporting the news anymore.”

  “It had to be Walt—I’m sorry.” I switched off the TV and stood by her.

  Maritza seemed tortured. “What am I supposed to do? I know what’s really going on and I can’t tell anyone.”

  “Maybe it’s better this way. I don’t want you getting hurt.”

  I brushed the hair from her face and kissed her. As we embraced I could feel raw anger coursing through her body. Pulling away she glared at me. “It’s not fair! I didn’t do anything except look for the truth.”

  “They see you as a threat. I think Nate is trying to protect you.”

  “Sorry I got mad. Sasha’s awake, by the way. She looks much better. Her brother is in there with her.”

  “Does she remember what happened?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Come on,” I said. “Let’s get something to eat.”

  As we entered the kitchen I noticed a fresh pot of coffee sitting on the counter. When Olga saw us, she motioned for us to sit, brought over two mugs and poured us some. I wondered when this poor woman slept. It seemed like she was always there to serve.

  Karen sat at the table, buried in the Los Angeles Times. A stack of newspapers lay next to her. I recognized USA Today, the New York Times, The Times, Le Monde and Pravda.

  “Morning,” I said. “Guess you heard about the murders last night.”

  She didn’t look up. “Yes, I’m reading about them now. Satanic cult. Honestly!”

  I set my coffee down when I saw Isaac and Vlad leading Sasha into the kitchen, her IV bag trailing behind her on a rolling stand. Though she looked pale, she appeared calm. She wore a T-shirt and jeans and was barefoot.

  “Hey, Sasha,” I said. Crossing to her, I gave her a hug. “How are you feeling?”

  “Like horse rode me.”

  She tried to smile but she was groggy—probably from the medication. Vlad helped her into a chair and sat next to her.

  “She’s looking better,” I said to Isaac.

  “Yes. I think I’m going to stop the Valium. And once she’s done with this bag, we’ll commence oral fluids.”

  Karen sat back in her chair, smiling. “You’ve worked a miracle, Doctor.”

  “That’s God’s department. I simply practice medicine.”

  “Well done.” Then to Sasha, “Are you hungry, dear?”

  “Sure.”

  “Good. Olga has prepared you something special.”

  On cue, Olga marched in carrying a huge plate with a thick steak on it and nothing else except a parsley garnish. She had barely set it down when Sasha began cutting off rare, bloody hunks. At first I was afraid of the knife she was using, but she was too busy with the meat.

  “May I have milk?” she said.

  We kept the conversation light. Vlad’s expression told me that he was relieved and grateful for his sister’s improvement. No one mentioned the incident.

  “So, what’s the plan?” I said to Isaac.

  “We have an appointment at St. Lazarus this morning. I’m assuming you’re both coming.”

  Maritza touched my arm. “I think I should stay here with Karen.”

  “Sounds good.”

  I noticed that Sasha had already finished her steak and was washing down what looked like vitamins with the milk. Then, sitting back with a look of satisfaction, she belched.

  “Wow,” I said.

  Swallowing the rest of his coffee, Isaac got up. “Folks, we’d better get going.”

  “I’ll gas up the motorhome,” I said.

  “Who are you seeing at St. Lazarus?” Karen said.

  Isaac smiled. “The man in charge, Dr. Franklin Zeles. Why?”

  “Just curious. I’ll run a bath for Sasha. Maritza, help me get her to her room.”

  “Sure.”

  Vlad rose too. “Dave, I’ll go with you to the gas station. Wait for me.”

  After the Russian left the room, Isaac and I stood. I was about to leave when I noticed my friend smiling at me curiously.

  “What?”

  “She’s a nice girl, Dave. And I can see that she’s crazy about you.”

  “Who, Maritza? Isaac, please don’t.”

  “Keep an open mind, is all I’m saying.”

  “I’m trying to. But it’s hard when . . .” I had to swallow my emotion.

  “I know, son. You’ve had it pretty rough these past six months. And it’s not over yet. But there is good out there. You’ll find it if you leave yourself open to it.”

  “Maybe.”

  “Dave, I’ve known you your whole life. You’re strong. Don’t give up.”

  “Isaac . . .”

  “You need to remember something. None of this was your fault. What happened, happened. But it wasn’t your fault. You know that, right?”

  I didn’t know if it was Isaac’s voice or the way he was looking at me, but a tidal wave of sorrow overcame me at that moment—I hadn’t even seen it coming. And I wept bitterly.

  In many ways Isaac had been like a father to me—mine had died when I was a kid—and now his words cut through me like a surgeon’s knife. I felt myself being drawn into his gentle arms. He let me cry it out, saying nothing. As I stood there, helpless, I thought of everything I had lost—my home, my friends. Holly. And he was right. I had blamed myself, even though there was no way I could’ve prevented any of it.

  I pulled back and wiped my eyes. “I’m a real pussy.”

  “The best men cry, you know.”

  “Thanks for being here, Isaac.”

  “Any time. You’d better get going.”

  By the time we returned from the gas station, everyone was ready to leave. Vlad and Isaac helped Sasha into the motorhome.

  Maritza waited outside the front door to see me off. She slipped her hand around my neck and, drawing me forward, kissed me deeply. “You need to be very careful.”

  “I will. But I’m worried about you.”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  “No, listen. I’m worried that Trower might track you down here.”

  “How could he? I never told Nate where I was staying.”

  “I worry just the same.”

  She kissed me again and pressed her head to my shoulder. “Please don’t be a hero.”

  I lifted her chin with my finger and saw that she was afraid. “Heroes die,” I said. “I need to stick around awhile to see where this thing goes.”

  “You mean, us?”

  “Yeah. I don’t think I want to die anymore.”

  “Good.” She hugged me deeply and kissed me once more. Vlad hit the horn. “You need to go.”

  The rain had stopped and the air was cold and fresh-smelling. As Maritza stood at the door watching sadly, I climbed into the motorhome. Soon we were off. I knew in my bones that there was a good chance I would never see her again. Then I remembered what the angel had said to me once. Do not be afraid.

  The hospital was located close by in Montecito. As we drove through wealthy neighborhoods, I thought of Maritza—I was worried about her. And she may not have told anyone where she was staying, but Trower was smart. He might have been able to figure it out. Maritza knew too much, and if that pale-eyed freak show decided to question her, I was afraid she wouldn’t be able to hold up.

  Vlad drove while Sasha sat next to her brother in the other captain’s chair, no longer attached to an IV. She was wearing some of the clothes I had bought her, including the sweater-knit pom-pom hat. She seemed to be in good spirits. Occasionally, he would turn and smile at her and say something in Russian. Though what happened to Sasha had been awful, getting her back appeared to have made their relationship stronger.

  Isaac sat on the small sofa, rereading the lab reports from Dr. Fernandes. Once or twice he would pause, his index finger stopping at a place on the page, and shake his head. Closing the manila folder he removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes.

  “Any of that making sense?” I said.

  “Maybe. Of course, the lab Dr.
Fernandes used wasn’t equipped to look for the virus. I did see that they found evidence of rabies. Here’s the curious thing. In every way—at least according to the blood tests—Sasha is normal. In fact, most of the changes are due to her pregnancy. Increased blood volume and a higher white blood cell count.”

  “That’s good, isn’t it?”

  “Well, yes. What we don’t know is the nature of the fetus.”

  “You mean, if it’s healthy?”

  “No.” He lowered his voice. “I mean, if it’s human.”

  I turned to look at Sasha. She was staring out the window, enjoying the view. Could it be that she was carrying something that was against Nature? Would she even be capable of bringing it to term?

  “The only way to truly tell is something I don’t want to consider,” Isaac said. “We would have to abort the fetus and perform a dissection. Examine the fetal cells.”

  I thought of Hellborn and those other girls like Sasha who had died. I was sure that’s what they had done with the dead fetuses.

  “Will the hospital be able to tell us anything?” I said.

  “I hope so. I brought one of the kits we used in Tres Marias to test for the presence of the virus. But that was a previous strain. I’m not sure what we’ll find now.”

  “We are here,” Vlad said as he turned into a wide driveway. Isaac and I walked to the front and peered out the motorhome’s massive windshield.

  The grounds were immaculate. Wide swaths of green grass surrounded us, trimmed with flower beds. There were trees everywhere. I recognized Manzanitas, Dogwood and Sycamore. In the center of the property stood a magnificent grey building that resembled a temple. The architecture was clean and modern. From the look of it, there were at least ten stories.

  I spotted a separate service road and, as Vlad got closer, I pointed us away from the main parking lot. “Take this road and pull around to the back. I want to see if we can find someplace hidden.”

  “Why?” Sasha said.

  “Because if we get cornered, I want to be able to get to the weapons fast. Trust me.”

  Nodding, Vlad did as I asked. After making the turn he eventually found a small deserted alcove behind a detached generator building. He backed the motorhome into it till it was no longer visible.