The Relict (Book 1): Drawing Blood (12 page)

Chapter Twenty

Matt burst through the dairy-farm doors to the outside compound.

The sunlight hit his face.

He squinted, but kept on running.

Most of the living things on the planet could take what came from the sun and change it to something that would help keep them alive.

The vampires were different.

All of them needed a middleman.

And this middleman had broken loose and was now running through the CCC compound.

He sprinted by several goons just standing in place, despite the blaring alarms, apparently with no idea what was going on.

Matt’s sprint had nothing to do with a search for a hole in the fence or a place where he could hide until the searchlights were off of him.

“Where did these people think they were escaping to?”

Jay’s words reverberated in his head until he had the confidence to stop running.

Planting himself in the middle of the compound, he began kicking his boot heels in the dirt, getting ready to make his stand.

Come and get me
, he said to himself.
We’re both middlemen, so it’s only right you spill some blood along with mine.

“Hey, mate, what’s your name?”

The goon who was serving as the spokesman for the rest of the guards encircling him had an Aussie accent. Hearing his dialect forced Matt to reevaluate his previous assessment about the nationalistic makeup of those working security at the camp. He had assumed that the recruitment of the camp’s security staff had been completely filled by locals.

“My name is Matt Haynes and I want to speak to my father and my mother. After I talk to them, I’ll let you guys take me.”

“What CCC facility are your parents stationed at?” asked the Aussie goon.

“No facility. They’re dead. I figured you guys could convey my demands to the undead in charge and then get back to me.”

“Come on, Haynes, you know it doesn’t work that way.”

“Then maybe someone should come over here and explain to me the rules,” said Matt. He was moving slowly in a circle, waving his baton.

There was applause, cheers, and shouts of encouragement from the prisoners who had gathered for the showdown.

“That’s it, Haynes… show them who’s boss…”

“Yeah, man, let ‘em all know we’re not going to just take this shit…”

“Do this, Matt! We’re right behind you!”

As Matt scanned the crowd of prisoners, he didn’t see Tyra, Juarez, or Barrett. Nor did he see Murphy. He wanted to believe his diversion had been a success.

Now all there was to do was play it out.

The Aussie raised his baton to his forehead as if he meant for the wood to soak up his sweat. Matt was sure the gesture was a sign that the assault was about to commence.

The first goon advancing toward Matt ran right into a kick that sent him flying backwards, where he wound up landing several feet farther back than where he had first started.

Matt’s baton blocked a strike from one of next two guards who rushed him next, then he used the heel of his hand to smash the other goon in his nose. He quickly ducked, just missing a counterpunch coming from the first attacker, and used his baton to swing up and introduce the goon’s balls to the wood of his stick.

His peripheral vision caught sight of two more goons rushing toward him. He planted his feet, raised his stick, then tried to swing at the first goon, but Matt’s baton was stopped in midair by... Spector.

The Security Supervisor smashed his fist into Matt’s face and wrenched the baton from his hand.

Matt staggered, but somehow managed to stay on his feet.

Spector motioned, and all the guards began widening their circle to give their boss more room.

There were shouts all around him, prisoners encouraging him to keep on fighting.

“Give it to him, Haynes!”

“Make the big ape eat a banana!”

But Matt was still groggy from the blow he received from Spector, and all the voices around him sounded muffled, their faces out of focus.

Matt charged Spector, who simply absorbed the blow to his body since there was nothing behind it. He then brought his clasped hands together down on Matt’s back, sending him straight to the dirt.

It took almost everything he had left, but Matt struggled from lying flat on the ground… to finally getting up on one knee.

Dietz had just joined the crowd, standing just behind the circle of guards. He watched Matt start to stand, and the doctor said under his breath, “What are you doing? Stay down…”

He rushed forward and threw a wild haymaker. Spector stepped to one side and delivered an elbow into Matt’s jaw, dropping the prisoner to the ground.

This time, Matt was out for the count.

Dr. Dietz broke through the circle of goons and tried to approach Matt, but Spector stopped him and motioned for his guards.

“Take him to my office.”

***

With Tyra trailing behind, Barrett and Juarez carried Murphy's dead body across the compound as if he was someone they were dragging out to the parking lot from a bar after a long night of heavy drinking.

Because of the chaos Matt had caused, no one stopped them along the way.

No one even looked in their direction as they shuffled Murphy through the barracks’ main door.

“Okay, give him to me...”

The three of them, along with Murphy’s limp body, were in the close confines of a supply closet that adjoined the shower area.

“Shit, I can’t do it by myself,” said Juarez.

“Who’s the pussy now?” asked Barrett, as he stood on top of a chair holding Murphy’s body underneath his armpits.

Every detail of Murphy’s death kept replaying in Tyra’s head, but each time it played back, there seemed to be a new detail added to the final cut.

“Hey, Ty, I need your help,” said Juarez.

Tyra snapped out of her daze, and helped Juarez lift Murphy’s dead body up to Barrett. Earlier they had fashioned a noose from the metal electrical cabling dangling from an overhead light fixture. As Barrett guided Murphy’s head into the cable noose, he gave his partners careful directions.

“Okay, this is the critical part… we need to be… extremely… careful or I will wind up dying with my arms wrapped around Murphy. Perfect… now just carefully ease him down…”

Murphy’s weight activated the initial pin to set up the trap. From there, a series of bedsprings shifted, which then engaged a metal alligator clip, the jaws of the clasp releasing a metal rod covered in rubber bands. The whole contraption was hidden in the ductwork above the ceiling, and was connected to the electrical power feeding the room.

Barrett carefully released the dangling body. He stepped off the chair, still holding his breath, as if he was stepping away from setting up a ten-story house of cards.

“What do you think?” asked Barrett.

Before anyone could answer, he held up his hand.

“Wait, one final touch…”

Barrett reached into the closet and turned the chair on its side.

“Now what do you think?”

“Yeah, that was perfect,” answered Juarez. “I totally see Murphy as a chair kicker. He’d change his mind at the last second and say, ‘uh… shit… now I can’t get my feet back onto…ahhhh…’.”

“This totally reminds me of a joke,” said Barrett. “How many goons does it take to change a lightbulb?”

“Hopefully, the punch line is at least ‘two’,” said Tyra.

The sharpness of her answer snapped them both out of their jovial mood.

“I’ve done this dozens of times,” said Barrett. “Of course, I never hotwired the payoff to go beyond a simple electrical shock to whoever tried to remove the dummy.”

“So what you’re saying is that you’re not sure?”

“Well, actually, I am sure. But we’ll still need some luck. If just one of the goons tries to take the body down himself, then we’ll have two dead bodies, not three.”

She nodded and turned to walk away, but Barrett stopped her.

“The trap should work, and get us two more dead bodies on top of Murphy’s. Believe me, Ty; I don’t want to help that asshole escape unless both you and Juarez are with him.”

“For your information, Cliff, that ‘asshole’ did get the shit kicked out of him… all so we could take out Murphy.”

“Good point. I stand corrected,” said Barrett. “But how much you want to bet the hotshot had a good time having the shit kicked out of him...?”

Chapter Twenty One

<incoming>messagevcnet>>

Greetings Fellow Shadows,

I write today with an enthusiasm that a region representative is rarely able to sincerely feel. It’s difficult to limit my emotions to just words, but I will make the effort.

First, join me in celebrating the two latest donation centers which began pumping out their first pints of blood yesterday - CAC29 and CAC18!

Both donation centers, located in the Rakshasis region, were not expected to be online until later this month, but both facilities sent out juice two weeks ahead of schedule.

Help me give a round of applause for the tireless effort of Vivek Asharti, the commander of both CAC29 and CAC18!

Just another reminder that we are all in this together. Those who you trust with your existence could be standing next to you… or a hemisphere away!

Stay Hidden, Stay Silent, Stay Sui Generis!

Very sincerely yours,

Hamil Deane

vc member - davanzati region

***

The capacity for humanity to maintain the semblance of continuity through the direst of circumstances should never be underestimated.

It was one of the points written by a US government official included in a Rangers’ handbook that Matt was given prior to being shipped out, with the rest of his unit, to Afghanistan.

The words were in his head as he was being beaten by Spector in the basement area of the CCC officers’ security building.

Whenever Spector would crouch before throwing a blow to his gut, Matt made it a point to stare at his oily, acne-filled scalp, on his pumpkin-size head.

After a particularly brutal assault, Spector would stop, hold up his captive’s head, and look into his eyes to make sure he was still conscious.

Matt made sure he was staring directly into Spector’s eyes as well, fixated on what should have been the white surrounding his pupils, but instead was decidedly yellow.

The world had completely changed, virtually overnight. And yet under the direst of circumstances imaginable, Spector had somehow managed to feed and maintain his addiction to steroids.

His internal laughter at this observation is what Matt used to distract himself from the pain being inflicted upon his body.

“Still hanging in there, Haynes?”

“Yeah, unless you think the band is really done with their set, and then I’d love to use the restroom.”

His answer triggered Spector to knee him in the crotch.

The goons who had been holding Matt up let him fall to the ground.

It was awhile before Matt could simply breathe again, but even after he had graduated to that point, his body was still radiating with pain.

“So, you were an Army Ranger…?”

He opened his eyes, but Spector was not standing above him, though Matt was sure it was Spector’s voice he had heard based on its high pitch.

The two goons reached down and raised him back to his feet. They turned him around to see their boss sitting behind his office desk staring at a computer screen.

“I thought the Internet went down after the vampires took over?”

“That’s right,” answered Spector, looking in his direction with a gleam of arrogance. “But you’re looking at one of the few on this planet with access to what the vampires put up in its place.”

“That’s great,” said Matt. “Does it have porn?”

The goons holding Matt laughed, but both guards immediately fell silent when Spector turned back to the computer screen without a hint of a smile.

“It says you did two tours. Then you were discharged. You wound up working for some private security firm...”

Matt didn’t respond.

“Look, here, sergeant punching bag,” said Spector. “We can keep doing this until I either bruise my knuckles or you fucking die. Your choice.”

“Maybe if you would let me know what you were after, I could give your knuckles a rest.”

“I want details…”

“Details… I don’t understand? Are you trying to touch up my obituary?”

Spector leapt out of his chair, marched across the room, then slapped Matt hard across the face twice. The second time, one of the goons lost his grip on him.

When Matt was raised up off the floor of the office, both his mouth and nose had begun bleeding again.

“You’re a cancer to my flock.” His words were a whisper, but they were spoken with a balled-up fist ready to fly. “What we’re doing right now, you and I, is trying to figure out how you got here. Did you come into this camp on your own, or were you sent here by someone on the outside?”

His wanted to laugh in his face, but instead, Matt spit out, “I came with Bunny.”

The name got Spector to lower his fist and take a step back.

“We both grew up around here,” said Matt. “Just like you. He told me he knew you, had helped you, and that you would take care of us.”

Spector looked away.

However, his inner reflection lasted only a few seconds. Then he was right back barking at Matt, just a few inches away from his face.

“You must really miss the Internet, because you are not up-to-date on current events. Everything has changed. Now you either start talking to me about how you were captured, or we’re going back in the ring for another thirteen rounds. Now what’s it going to be…?”

“What’s going on here?”

The tenor of the voice caused Spector to whip around in fear.

Everyone looked around, but no one could see a body behind the voice. It meant there was a vampire standing in the shadows of the office.

“Why isn’t this injured prisoner being attended to by one of the physicians?”

Though no one could see its face, Spector knew the voice wasn’t Julian’s. He responded by directing his answer all around his office.

“Sir, this prisoner ran amok during the blood donation and practically caused a riot.”

“Thank you for explaining the circumstances that preceded his incarceration. It still doesn’t answer why a donor, clearly capable of manufacturing blood – I’m basing my assessment on looking at his face – isn’t being tended to by a physician…”

“Sir, you don’t understand; we’re in the middle of an interrogation. After I’m finished, I will return the prisoner to the barracks.”

The vampire not only stepped out of the shadows, he rushed over to occupy Spector’s space. Though neither the head of security nor his goons had ever seen him before, Matt recognized him as his brother.

“Pardon my encroachment,” said Ian. “Apparently my razor-sharp hearing is off tonight. I thought I heard you say, ‘Sir, you don’t understand…’.”

“I did not mean any disres…”

Spector’s sentence was choked off by Ian’s hand, now gripping his throat.

“Ah… so it wasn’t my hearing after all. How unfortunate for you, because now we’re forced to deal with my hurt feelings, which seem trampled upon, and the only one I saw pacing around this office like a frightened mare was you, Ronald.”

“I’m so sorry… sir… but this prisoner ran amok during…”

It was all Spector managed to say before starting to choke…

“Ronny, I can’t believe you wasted your final words simply repeating the same details of this man’s apprehension. We’ve already established my hearing is just fine.”

Spector tried to respond, but he only gurgled, and choked.

Just as his complexion lost all of its color, Ian released him and Spector doubled over and gasped for air.

“Now, what are you going to do with this prisoner?”

When Spector didn’t immediately answer, Ian repeated the question.

“What you going to do, Ronny, with this prisoner?”

Spector was still trying to regain his breath, but it did not matter because Ian grabbed him by the scalp of his hair and struck him hard across the face, causing the head of CCC security to fall backwards. However, he was not allowed to hit the ground, because Ian grabbed him by his jumpsuit, and brought him back up to his face.

“Shall I repeat the question? Or repeat the action meant to increase the speed of your answer?”

“I… return the prisoner to the barracks,” Spector managed to answer.

Ian let Spector drop to the ground.

“Brilliant answer. You’re starting to prove how smart you are… well, at least ‘smart’ for someone who has a pulse. Now I strongly encourage you to be the best advocate regarding your intelligence, and follow through on your new strategy…”

Spector barely raised his hand, motioning to his goons holding Matt to take him away. He then turned to spit out the blood that had pooled in his mouth.

When Spector looked back up… Ian had disappeared.

The main door to the prisoners’ barracks building flew open and Matt was brought in, then gently set to the ground by the goons.

A couple of prisoners leapt out of their beds to help Matt, but he waved them off.

He stood on his own, gave those who tried to help a nod of appreciation, then stumbled toward the building’s restrooms.

Standing at one of the sinks, he splashed his face with water, then looked into the mirror.

Behind him, one of the bathroom-stall doors swung open. It was Doctor Dietz.

“My god, you look awful.”

As the doctor approached him, Matt caught sight of the interior of the stall behind him. It was filled with dozens of test tubes, beakers, even a Bunsen burner.“What the hell is all that back there?”

As Dietz explained, he began addressing Matt’s wounds.

“That’s my way of fighting back. Though, I will admit my method lacks the charm of having the bruises and scars that can be used to enliven a good story.”

“What do you mean, ‘fighting back’?" asked Matt.

“Every creature on this planet has a weakness. We are the apex, and we still have hundreds of weaknesses.”

“We use to be the apex,” said Matt. “Not anymore.”

“Yes, good point.”

“Whatever. Are you saying you really have an idea on how to defeat them?”

“No. But I have some theories.”

“What do you need to get these theories to the next level?”

Dietz looked at the paper towel he had been using to soak up Matt’s blood and laughed.

“Blood for starters. No, not yours. Their blood.”

“Matt…”

He turned and saw Tyra standing in the restroom’s doorway.

“… you’re back. I just heard. Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. We got Murphy, right?”

Tyra nodded. “He’s hanging in the supply closet... just like we planned.”

“Good.”

“Okay… glad you’re feeling all right. Why don’t we talk before roll call?”

She turned and walked away, but Matt suddenly thought of something and he called out to her.

“Wait… Tyra…”

She stepped back into the doorway.

“Who's the one who ended up taking out Murphy... Juarez or Barrett?”

“Neither… “

Before her reply could sink in, Tyra walked away.