Releasing A Vampire Page 4

  If only the real world out there could be like this.

  Biosafety Level 2 Laboratory, unknown location

  Wednesday, September 29th, 2004

  Late that evening, Becker got out of bed in the shared bedroom and went to the bathroom. He locked the door and stood himself in front of the sink. He inspected his mirror image and didn’t think he looked any different. He leaned his hands on the edge of the sink and moved his face closer to the mirror. When he lifted his upper lip and saw the reflection of his teeth, he gasped. He stumbled backward and bumped into the post of the shower cubicle. In a reflex to stay upright, he grabbed the handle of the cubicle door and ripped it completely off. Having nothing to hold on to now, he fell on his butt on the floor, the broken handle in his hand. “What the fuck?” Becker said out loud.

  “Everything okay in there?” he heard Kaminski say.

  “Yeah, I’m fine. Just slipped on the wet floor.” He got up and moved to the mirror again. He threw the door handle into the sink and with both hands lifted his upper lip. Now he was sure it wasn’t a figment of his imagination. He really had canines a wolf would be proud of. No wonder his jaw had been so sore. “Bloody hell,” he muttered.

  A knock on the bathroom door made him jump. Becker let go of his lip and quickly picked up the door handle, holding it behind his back. “I told you I’m fine!” he yelled.

  “Sorry, Gov,” Kaminski whispered from behind the closed door. “Can I talk to you for a sec?”

  Becker frowned but opened the door. “What is it?”

  Kaminski glanced back over his shoulder. When he was sure none of the other soldiers were awake, he pushed his way into the bathroom and closed the door behind him.

  “What’s up, Kaminski? You better have a bloody good reason to barge in here,” Becker said as he took a step backward. He was still holding the door handle behind his back and thought it might come in handy if Kaminski was up to something stupid.

  “Gov, I have a problem,” Kaminski whispered. He didn’t look Becker in the eye.

  “Don’t tell me you have a problem down under. You need to see somebody else for that.”

  “No, Gov, you have it all wrong! I haven’t got a problem down there, I have a problem up here,” and he pointed at his mouth. Kaminski opened his mouth wide and sported a perfect pair of fangs. “My jaw has been bloody painful all day and I can feel my teeth have grown. I feel like a vampire and I’m not sure what to do!” He had a desperate look in his eye.

  Becker’s mind was racing. So he wasn’t the only one whose teeth were growing. Could this be a side-effect from the virus? Was this supposed to happen? What were the implications? Could they use them in combat? Apart from the tiredness and the pain, he felt as strong as an ox.

  “Gov, what do I do?” Kaminski wiped his hand over his ultra-short hair.

  Becker had to put his man at ease and there was only one way.

  “Don’t worry,” he said. “Keep on smiling.”

  The man in front of him nodded a short nod and then realized what he had heard.

  “Um… What? What did you say?” Kaminski asked.

  “Just smile!” Becker said and made his grin as wide as possible, showing off his own pair of fangs.

  “Oh my God! You have them too!” Kaminski said. Together they laughed.

  There was knocking on the door again, this time louder.

  “What is going on in there?” It was Grover’s voice.

  Becker opened the bathroom door and the two men stepped out.

  Grover stood with his hands on his hips eying them suspiciously. “Having a secret meeting in there?” he asked.

  “Grover, why don’t you smile for a change?” Becker asked in return. He moved to put his hand on the man’s shoulder but forgot he was still holding the door handle. He stopped his move midway, staring at the item, and realized it must look a bit awkward.

  “What in heaven’s name have you two been up to in there?” Grover asked, frowning at the broken piece of metal.

  Becker laughed. “Well, it seems that the virus is working. I fell and trying to hold on to something, I took the handle off as easy as if it was made of butter.”

  “You’re kidding?” Kaminski said.

  “Nope, I swear on my mother’s grave. It came right off when I grabbed it,” Becker said.

  The three of them laughed and Becker didn’t fail to notice Grover also had a nice set of wolf-like canines.

  Becker woke the three remaining sleeping men in the room as well as the five next door. They all appeared to have long canines. The men gathered around Becker.

  “What does it mean, Gov?” Johnsson asked. He was the youngest of the troop. “Are we turning into animals?”

  “Would the Doc know this would happen, you think,” Kaminski asked.

  “I really don’t think so,’ Becker replied. “Turning into animals is a bit far-fetched and I don’t think the Doc knows. Otherwise, she would have monitored the growth of our fangs.”

  Suddenly the light turned on and all the men had to blink. When they focused to see who had flipped the switch, they saw Walpole standing in the doorway.

  Biosafety Level 2 Laboratory, unknown location

  Wednesday, September 29th, 2004

  Walpole’s big frame was impressive, filling most of the doorway.

  “What’s going on, guys?” Walpole said as he scuffed his beard. “The night guard told me he saw you wandering in the hallway on the cameras. Is anything wrong?”

  Becker was confused. Looking at Walpole made him thirsty, very thirsty. He couldn’t see the man’s jugular through his beard, but it was as if he could hear it. It was almost as if he could hear the blood sloshing through the man’s veins. Warm, liquid, thirst-quenching blood. The thought scared the hell out of him. Yet, he took a step closer toward the man.

  “No, nothing’s wrong,” he said. From the corner of his eye, he saw Kaminski flank him on the right, Grover was not far behind on the left. “Nothing’s wrong at all.” All of the men took another step closer to Walpole.

  “Then why are you all out of bed?” Walpole asked as he shuffled back into the hallway. He didn’t like the look on the men’s faces. The eyes were too intent. He glanced quickly at the cameras hanging in the corners of the hallway. Looking back at Becker, he said, “Do you want me to call Dr. Bonnetti?”

  Walpole put his hand into the pocket of his lab coat, but when he found nothing, he realized he had left his cell phone lying on the nightstand. ‘Damn, this isn’t good,’ he thought.

  Becker had noticed the big man looking away at the cameras and quickly assessed the situation. He jumped forward and grabbed Walpole by the lapels of his coat. He pulled the heavy frame of the bearded man into the room and closed the door behind him. When Becker’s eyes met Kaminski’s, he realized his mate's eyes were asking. They weren’t asking what was going on. They were asking for permission. Becker blinked. Kaminski was asking him permission to kill Walpole. He had seen the look in the soldiers’ eyes before, just before a kill when they were on duty in Iraq. Only this time, Kaminski’s stare was so much more intense. Absolutely no doubt about it. The man wanted to kill, just like he did himself.

  Walpole threw a glance at the door. He thought of saying something but refrained from it as he didn’t believe these guys had any intention of listening to anybody at the moment.

  ‘This isn’t going to end well,’ Walpole thought to himself.

  The blow came out of nowhere and Walpole was unconscious before he hit the floor. He never woke up again because the men of the 69th battalion immediately fell on him and quenched their thirst.

  Becker wiped the blood off his chin. He got up and Kaminski and Johnsson joined him. Most of the others were still trying to get the last drop out of Walpole.

  “What have we done?” moaned Grover, who stood looking at the white corpse, his fists clenched to his cheeks. “What on earth have we done?”

  Becker thought exactly the same thing. He hadn’t wa
nted to kill Walpole, but his thirst had taken over. His body had demanded to take action to quench this immense need and killing Walpole and relieving him of his blood had been the obvious solution. He wasn’t proud of it, but what was done was done. He realized his career was shot. He could hand himself in, but that would mean a dishonest discharge and they would probably do everything in their power to cancel the side-effect of the virus in him. That was something he couldn’t let happen. Not while he felt so fucking good. He felt like his body was changing for the better, into some sort of super human. Why would he want to go back to what he had been before?

  “We’re doomed! We’re all doomed!” wailed Grover in the meantime. The soldier was now pacing the room, shaking everyone by the shoulders.

  Becker turned his head to Grover and sighed. Johnsson took this as a sign to take action. He grabbed Grover and pushed him up against the wall, his lower arm pressing against the man’s throat.

  “You want me to take care of him?” Kaminski asked Becker.

  After a short moment, Becker gave the slightest nod upon which Kaminski moved to Grover and Johnsson.

  “Grover, are you going to shut up?” he asked.

  Grover stopped whimpering. He stared at Kaminski intently before he talked.

  “You’re evil! We’re all evil! We’re all going to hell!” he yelled into Kaminski’s face, who kept surprisingly calm.

  “No worries, mate, I’ve already been there and back again,’ he said as he indicated to Johnsson to let go of Grover. “Why don’t we go and find the Doc, okay? She can sort out this mess.”

  Kaminski put his arm around Grover’s shoulders and led his fellow soldier toward the door. They were about three paces away from it when Kaminski put both hands on the sides of Grover’s head and broke his neck.

  Johnsson stared at the body of his mate in horror as Becker addressed the rest of the men.

  “Anybody else wants out? No? Good. Now listen up. We have to get out of here and fast. If we stay, we’re doomed, like Grover said. We’re going to extract ourselves out of this hostile situation. And don’t get me wrong, this will be a hostile situation as soon as they find out we killed these men. Kaminski, get Walpole’s key card. We’re going to visit our security friend first.

  Biosafety Level 2 Laboratory, unknown location

  Wednesday, September 29th, 2004

  Ricardo Ricci sat with his feet on his desk. He was filling in a crossword puzzle when his eye caught movement again on one of the monitors. He lazily glanced up at it, expecting Walpole returning. Instead, he saw the group of soldiers walking his way.

  “Now what?” he said as he moved his feet off the desk.

  A few minutes earlier, he had woken the fat bastard Walpole because he had seen his test bunnies roaming the hallway in the middle of the night. He thought they probably had the shits or something. During the few years as a guard here, nothing exciting ever seemed to happen, which was just the way he liked it. What had gone wrong that Walpole wasn’t with the soldiers? Ricci got out of his chair and opened the door of his office.

  “Hey, guys, what’s up?” he asked as the soldiers approached. Just in case, he had taken the clip off his hip holster and kept his hand on the gun.

  Before Ricci had a chance to move Becker rushed up to him and bit Ricci’s neck, sucking at his jugular. Ricci screamed his lungs out. He didn’t have a chance getting his gun out as Becker wasn’t a fool and had twisted Ricci’s arm behind his back when he attacked. The man was as strong as an ox and Ricci couldn’t move one way or another. After a minute or so, Becker let go of Ricci, taking the gun out of its holster as he did. Shaking on his legs and clutching at his neck, Ricci stared at the men who were staring at Becker.

  “Why didn’t you kill him?” Kaminski asked.

  “Why would I?” Becker replied. He was a trained killer, but he didn’t see the need to kill innocent people if he could help it. He had bitten the man as that had been the fastest way to disarm him. Besides, he may be of more use to them alive.

  “How do we get out of here?” Becker asked Ricci.

  Ricci didn’t say anything. However, Becker did see the man’s eyes go to the door at the far end of the hallway.

  “Look, this is the situation,” Becker told Ricci. “We’re going to get out of here, whether you like it or not. You can come with us or we will kill you. Your choice.” Becker stared into the guard’s eyes.

  Ricci was no fool. He had a sense of duty, sure, but he knew a lost cause when he saw one. Sticking to his patriotism at this very moment was one of those.

  “You can’t get out, you need two key cards,” he said, “and I only have one.

  At this, Kaminski smiled a broad grin and showed Ricci the card he had taken from Walpole.

  Ricci led the men to the car park. There weren’t many cars there, but enough to get the men out. Becker made the sign to gather and waited until every soldier was within hearing distance.

  “Okay, listen up. This is it. This is where we split our ways. As soon as you leave this car park, you’re on your own. You’re trained to survive and that’s what you’re going to do. This is a life or death situation. Your life or death. Go out, sleep during the day, travel by night. It’s the best chance you have of staying under the radar. Speed and power!”

  “Speed and power!” came the unanimous reply.

  As the men spread out into the world, so did the virus.

  Bullsbrook, Friday, October 8th, 2004

  On Friday evenings you could always find us in the Celtic Frog, the local bar in Bullsbrook. It was owned by Enrique, a French guy with a Spanish name. He reminded me a bit of that guy from the funny TV series ‘Alo, alo’, what was his name again? Ah, René, that was it. Enrique was also a bit chubby, with a receding hairline, and he thought the ladies quite liked him. However, in contrast to René in the series who couldn’t keep the women at bay, Enrique didn’t attract the attention he so imagined. Miraculously though, he was married to a really gorgeous, Celtic woman, named Abby. Her real name was Abigail, but everybody called her Abby. She was a voluptuous, big lipped, red-haired lady. She was very chatty and definitely in charge of the place; ‘au contraire’ of what Enrique thought. Because of their names, we often planned our get-togethers for the Friday night at the ‘A&E’, coincidentally also the English term for the ‘Accidents & Emergencies’ department in hospitals, instead of using the pub’s name. We received some funny looks from bystanders when we did that and we never told anybody what we meant, which made it extra special.

  Charlie was ordering another round of beer for us when we heard about suckers for the first time. Sue and I were watching the news on the TV in the corner when Charlie returned from the bar with his hands full.

  “Listen to this, Charlie,” Sue said.

  “Yeah, please take this out of my hands first, my lady, and I will do your bidding” he replied. Charlie always pretended to be Sue’s jester. Sue didn’t think anything of it, but I always thought that Charlie wanted to be more than that to her.

  We quickly took our beers from him, raised them, and said ‘All for one and one for all.’ We took a big gulp of the cool, golden liquid and the three of us turned our heads to the TV screen. The newsreader just ended her sentence with ‘…disturbing images’ and then we were shown footage of what was happening in Portland. We saw people being chased by others and, quite dramatically, being bitten in the neck. The images were a bit vague as it was all filmed in the dark.

  “New vampire movie coming out?” Charlie asked.

  “No! This is for real! This is really happening, man,” I blurted out.

  “You’re kidding me,” he replied with disbelief written all over his face.

  “It’s true,” I said, “Otherwise they wouldn’t show it on the news now, would they?” And I took another big gulp of my beer.

  The drunk-one has spoken.

  Charlie stared at me, then at Sue.

  “You’re kidding me,” he repeated.

&nbs
p; I could understand his reaction. The images on TV seemed so unreal. Like a war in some far away country that didn’t affect our personal lives in the slightest, and this war being paranormal fiction too instead of real. Sue and I stared back at Charlie with big eyes.

  “Wow! That’s unreal. Is it bad?” he finally said.

  “Only if you get killed apparently,” I informed him, “If you live you get to be a vampire.”

  “Cool!” he grinned, “But I am sure you mean ‘if you die, you get to be a vampire.” He finally sat down.

  I thought about what the newsreader had said on the news. I was pretty sure she’d said you became a sucker when you survived an attack.

  “That’s confusing,” I frowned.

  Both Sue and Charlie laughed.

  After we had a bit of contemplation and some more beer, Sue asked, “Would you get to live forever you think?”

  “Well, that would be awkward, with the shortage of housing in the city already,” I quipped.

  Sue and Charlie burst out laughing.

  “What?” I asked them. “It’s true, isn’t it? There is a housing shortage.”

  “You always look at things from a practical point of view, don’t you?” Charlie said as he stomped me playfully on my arm.

  And the conversation drifted to the housing problems our college friends were having in the big cities. That conversation seemed so much more important than blood-sucking people at the time.

  Bullsbrook, Monday, October 11th, 2004