Blood Ties: Chpt.4

                   The metallic smell and taste began to overwhelm her senses quickly. Her thirst arose as bloodlust pried its fingers deep into her mind. Her pupils contracted, her fangs lowered tenths of a millimeter in anticipation of a feast. She slowly brought herself back under control, knowing she'd have to be fully aware of what was going on if she wanted to get out alive.

The room looked to Jennifer to be the same size of the one she had been in, yet this room was severely modified. Mortals were held to the walls by steel bands, one on the forehead, bands on the wrists and ankles, and a large band around the chest. As far as Jennifer could tell, the food consisted of only men and women who were in peak condition. IV's ran from major sources of blood, mostly in the neck and inner thigh, which led to large blood bags.

         'So this is how Demitri keeps his vamps under control.'  With this much blood at their disposal, whoever worked for Demitri wouldn't need to attack the populace, meaning their cover would be kept for as long as they could get fresh meat.

The concept wasn't new to her, but she'd never seen it in use. Back in the 1990's, Jennifer had heard rumors of a group of Chicago old race vampires that had abducted homeless people from the streets, moving them to an abandoned apartment complex and supposedly setting them up in the same fashion. It was an easy system, just get the victims brain dead and steal their blood until they died. Jennifer had never found out if the rumors were true, the group had been decimated by modern vampire hunters only a few months after the rumors reached her.

         Although she knew the risk Jennifer paused to drink from one of the blood bags in order to renew some of her strength. It was off. Normal blood brought Jennifer ecstasy, almost like getting high. This had the feeling of very un-pure cocaine. Her body began to digest it, and in spite of her doubts, she gained strength. As she stared at the bodies, plans came to mind.

         "Someone's not gonna be happy…" She smiled wickedly to herself. Walking by each body, Jennifer began ripping out each IV, watching as the blood flowed out onto the floor, the scent and taste of blood filling the room, thick enough to cut.

         Focusing back on her plan she went to a door recessed at the front of the trailer. The noise from passing vehicles made it impossible for her to hear anything outside, and the smell from the blood behind her took out her ability to smell enemies completely.

         The door opened and she was suddenly face to face with Demitri, who immediately began stuttering unintelligibly.

         Jennifer, however, wasted no time in pulling him into the blood compartment by his neck. She pulled him down to the ground, shoving the door shut as she fell, twisting their bodies so that she landed on top of him. By this time, Demitri was finally putting up a coherent struggle, and Jennifer focused all her attention on him, hoping to hell that no one was coming up through the hatch behind her.

         She brought her right fist and arm back, while Demitri tried to pry her left-hand's ferocious grip off of his neck. Letting loose she brought her fist down, right where-

         -Demitri's face had been milliseconds before. He moved with lightening agility, taking his hands off of hers, and pushed her face upwards and away. Jennifer instead drove her knee into his crotch, first down to hit his testicles, and then in towards his pelvis to crush them. Demitri exhaled in a rapid gasp, hands diving towards her knee, his face flooding with blood.

         She used this opportunity to grab his head with both her hands, then she pulled it up and snapped it to the right, not breaking it but accomplishing the equivalent.

         She stood up. Demitri had stopped moving below his neck, his spinal column had been torn, removing motor function to his lower body. He looked her in straight in the eye, and smiled.

         "What are you smiling at? You're dead meat."

         "Heh, you think you've done anything? Do you even have an idea of what's going on? You don't know anything. You haven't changed anything. Nothing at all!"

         "What do you mean? I've killed you. You abducted me. Now I'm leaving. No one is gonna find me where I'm going. So what the fuck are you talking about?"

         "Hah! You think I set this up? You're wrong Jen! How did you think we found you? It was Jacob! He's still alive! And how you haven't known that for over 50 years, is fucking amazing! Now I'm gonna die and your gonna leave. I know I'm gonna die cause I can't heal fast enough to fix the fucking damage you've done. But it doesn't matter. Jacob's coming, and when he finds you, you're gonna finally be ou-" Demitri descended into frantic coughing, no longer controlling the muscles that allowed him to swallow.

         "What do you mean Jacob's alive? You killed him! I saw it! I SAW IT! What the FUCK are you talking ABOUT!? ANSWER ME!"

         But Demitri could no longer talk. He left her with the smile still on his lips, leaving Jennifer to wonder if his dying words were true.

         She turned towards the door that led to the trucks cabin. The gap was covered by a thick blue canvas, which led to the door of the cabin room. Jennifer paused only briefly to grab the Glock in Demitri's pocket. She stepped through the gap, opening the door.

         "Hey Demitri, is she st-"

         Jennifer ended his question with a neat squeeze of the trigger.

She walked to the seat, dragged him out, and sat down, pressing her foot on the brake pedal. She waited until the rig had stopped completely before assessing where she was. The highway was deserted, the only lights, on the tail ends of cars, were going the opposite other direction. The nearest sign she could make out told her she was only 45 miles from the Brooklyn Bridge.

         'Why didn't he move farther from Manhattan,' she thought to herself, 'I would have moved as far as possible.'

         She opened the passenger side door and jumped out, her boots crunching on the gravel. She knew where she had to go, and she was positive she'd be able to get past checkpoints. The only question in her mind was whether she'd make it there in time.



O O O



         The conference room was deserted except for Whistler. He sat staring out the main viewing window that overlooked the base's airfield. He could hear people walking towards the room, and he could only hope they were bringing good news.

Acciords and a researcher walked up to Whistler. He could tell from the sour look on the researcher's face that Acciords had berated him badly. 'Oh well. I guess someone screwed up. Good thing it wasn't me.'

"Looks like your retirement is on hold General. Jacob's men went to the transport after repeated attempts at communication via the truck radio failed, and the GPS indicated that they weren't moving. He says that the Source apparently woke up in transit, broke free of her bonds, killed their blood bank, killed Demitri-"

         "What do you mean, 'killed Demitri'? I thought he was a vamp? One of the untouchables."

         "Apparently not. She snapped his neck, he died before he could heal. It would seem that the Source's healing abilities are a vast improvement over the old race. But it doesn't matter," Acciords sat down next to Whistler in a conference chair, "Jacob failed. I'm taking over the operation. My men will be sent in to retrieve her. Jacob will have a spot, but he'll listen to me. I need you to get the appropriate resources. Numbnuts here will help you. I've got the full list wrote up in the main file log. I need it done fast. Get it done, and you're out."

         Acciords got up without waiting for Whistler's reply and stalked off, leaving the researcher behind.

         "What do ya want, "Whistler asked, "You here to yell at me to or something?"

         "Actually Acciords is having me stay here when you need help with acquiring resources."

         "Why would I need help? I run this base."

         "Well sir, to put it frankly, there are some resources here that are beyond your pay grade."

         "Oh, wonderful. Hmm… Care for a smoke?" Whistler pulled out a packet of cigarettes.

         "No, I don't smoke. Kills you early. I don't plan on dying early."

         "Fine, suit yourself." Whistler placed the cigarette between his teeth and lit it with a small Zippo lighter.

         As he thought about what was going on, Whistler decided he'd need help. He'd had enough of Acciords. He'd have to use Jakowski. It was getting near time to end this little charade.



O O O



         BANG. BANG. BANG.

         "Hold up, I'm coming!" His voice came through muffled, both from distance and from exhaustion. The door to the apartment opened and he nosed the barrel of the shotgun out. She grabbed the barrel, pushed it back, along with the door, and forced her way inside. He tried to put up a struggle, but he was no match for her. Soon she forced him to the ground and pulled the shotgun from his hands, pushing her left knee down on his chest.

         "Nice to see you to! You're crushing me, Jesus Christ, Jen! Get the fuck OFF me!"

         Laughing slightly she stood up and grasped his arm, pulling him up with ease.

         His long pale face was unshaven, blond hair long and untidy, and brown eyes wild and raw. He was wearing a black cotton shirt, spotted with bleach stains. He wore the same old pair of blue jeans Jennifer had bought him over a year and a half ago.

         "Where the fuck have you been Jen? The entire fucking city's crawling with vamps, and they're like you."

         "Yeah, I know. I turned the first few. I guess they kinda took off after that."

         Jennifer walked deeper into the apartment, passing open doorways to the dirty living room, unkempt kitchen, and empty spare rooms. 'Still empty. Guess I'm the only woman he sees on a timely basis. I should be flattered. He's probably got some sort of crush on me. Oh well.' She got all the way to the last door on the right side of the hallway before Vladamir got in front of her and barred her entrance.

         "Not until you turn me, " he told her, "you've got enough chutzpa to turn random strangers, and it's been 2 years since I met you. I can take it. Turn me."

         Jennifer closed her eyes, leaned against the wall.

         "I've been studying different fighting styles, sleep deprivation, fasting so I can control blood lust. I've worked with you for a while, studied what I need to. I also have huge resources, you can attest to that. Plus, I already killed 3 vamps today alone! They're in the kitchen if you want to look," Jennifer peered back through a doorway behind her, "They popped out of the apartment above, apparently a vamp got to them in the night and the turned early this morning. I hear them running their bodies against the front door, so I grab the shotgun, yell at them to go away, tell them they don't need my kinda tro-"

         "Really, you yelled at them?"

         "Yes, I did. Don't interrupt, it's rude. Now as I was saying, I told them off. They didn't want to leave." Vlad was starting to get worked up, he no longer took notice of Jennifer, he was enthralled in his own story, "So I opened the door real quick, then I pulled up the shotgun, pulled the trigger, and BLAM! The first one has a freaking chasm the size of a grapefruit in her head! BLAM! BLAM! Two more do-"

         "V. Stop talking. Let me in. I'll explain what's going on. Plus you're getting hyped up. You'll need your inhaler soon."

         Laughing quietly to herself, she pushed her way past Vlad. Once in the room her eyes opened in shock.

         "So V, I see you've been busy."



O O O



         Fire, slowly circling, feeding off of the gasoline soaked floor and walls. She screamed, again and again. The all-consuming heat was drawing ever closer. They were dead, she had watched as he'd shot her parents, she'd seen the blood and brain and splinters of bones as the bullets hit home. He had not shot her though; he had left them to die another way, slowly and in the most pain. She closed her eyes and clutched her knees to her chest, desperately trying to protect the life within.

         "NO, NO, NOOO!" her screams were barely heard above the cacophony of burning materials. The smoke from the massive fire was reaching her, her head was pounding, and her breathing was labored.

         "NOO-"

         The smoke was pushing her into unconsciousness, her fear for the baby was pulling her out. Jennifer began a slow crawl toward the front door. The fire was a raging inferno here, eating up all of her air. She coughed horrendously, smoke all around her.

         'Please God, don't kill it, please don't take my baby, please, please don't.' Her frantic thoughts only made her more determined to survive. But the fire was beating her. Black spots choked out the light. She closed her eyes for the final time, only feet from the inferno, and only feet from escape.



O O O



         Vladamir Kosotovo had immigrated to Manhattan from a small village in Ukraine when he was 13. Now he was 25, living in a rundown apartment complex on the upper west end of Manhattan. He had originally made his living by working with the Russian Mob. But after a botched hit 3 years ago, Vlad had snitched on the Mob, landing many high profile men in prison with life terms and no possibility of parole. Vlad had never told Jennifer what had happened on the ruined hit, and she didn't ask. However, she was sure that what had happened must have landed Vlad into a large amount of cash. From the outside, the apartment was in disrepair, and the inside was about the same. The only rooms that told of his fortune was his bedroom, and what he called his "main quarters". The bedroom had the latest electronics, furniture, decorations, and more. The main quarters were bare to the naked eye, just a small recess in a wall where his computer was nestled, but the room held many secrets. Most had been revealed to Jennifer, however he had always removed her before he took weapons from his stash. How many he had, she didn't know. And added to all this he was extremely crafty. How he had managed to get her to buy him jeans was still a mystery to her.

         The room she was now staring at was different from the last time she'd been here. The entire back wall was filled with servers, most of which were military grade and highly expensive to acquire. The right side of the room held a large bank of monitors. Some of the monitors were dedicated to computer software, while others were dedicated to television stations, mainly news stations and weather stations.

         "Jen you really stirred things up. The bureaucracy is just saying it’s an exceptionally strong outbreak of H7N7. They claim it mutated somehow, causing people to go rampant. Of course, no one believes it, so the island is in complete lockdown. The gov's got roaming death squads going down infected areas, bagging and tagging anything that moves. How the fuck they expect to keep this quiet is lost on me."

         Jennifer went and sat down in a black computer chair near the door, swiveling it around to face Vlad.

         His face became momentarily puzzled and then softened out.

         "You must have freaking, whatever the hell they call it, bipolar disease or something. First, you try to kill me, then your laughing, then your serious, what the fucks got you all up and outs?

         "Someone abducted me, so I deci-"

         "What do you mean abducted? Why would someone try to ab-"

         "Hey. Don't interrupt. You said it's rude. As I was saying, I decided to create a panic and leave Manhattan. I don't know why, or exactly who, abducted me. The first time I got ambushed in one of the safe houses. The next time happened after I screwed up, didn't get the message the first time, and used another safe house."

"So they did it twice? What's up wi-"

         "Hey! No interrupting, it's rude," she smiled ruefully at him, "As I was saying, they blew it to bits, with me inside. They took me about 60 miles from here, aboard a tractor-trailer. I escaped, as you can see, and now I need info and weapons. When I need to fully explain it, or when I get the chance, I will. For now, just take what I say at face value."

         Vlad looked down at her with astonished eyes, or as close to astonished as Jennifer could tell.

         "You've got the chutzpa to come here asking for weapons and the like, when it is you who has started all this?! Чому, чому Бог Ах, чому? Ти злий ублюдок дитини! Мені хотілося б любить тебе, але Ісус!"*1

         Jennifer only settled into the chair, preparing herself to wait out Vlad's rant. For the two years she had known him, he always lapsed into his old language, with much ruined grammar, when confronted with too much news, or news of a bad nature.

         "Як ви могли дозволити собі бути викрадений? Чому? І ви почали все це, чому? О Аллах мати вічне милість на вашій душі, де він може зараз бути. Дженніфер ти зло! Але я люблю тебе! А Ісус ..."*2

         "You finished V?"

         "Так. На жаль, я закінчила."*3

         "Okay. Now here's what I need from you…"

         That was when the phone rang.



O O O



* In loose translation, this is what Vlad said,

*1: Why, oh why God why? You evil bastard child! I would love you, but God!

*2: As you can afford to be taken? Why? And you started all this, why? Oh God has mercy on your eternal soul, as he may. Jennifer you are wrong! But I love you! Jesus!

*3: Yes. Unfortunately, I am finished.



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