The Blood Talisman Page 3

  He reached a gas station with fluorescent lights. The brightness hurt his eyes. He squinted and everything came back into focus. There was a pay phone to the side of the gas station, but he had no money. Then he saw a girl dressed in black standing outside the gas station talking on her cell phone.

  Alex’s focus took a side track when his stomach started to growl with hunger again. It was worse than hunger: it felt like poison coursing through his veins. He bent over in pain and looked back up at the girl on her phone. He could hear her heart beating as she laughed, and he saw the veins in her body, and the blood that pumped to her heart. Everything slowed again, as it had done at the hospital, and he forced himself to concentrate harder to try and overcome the agony of hunger.

  His hunger turned to anger again. He became angry at not understanding what was happening to him. All of the new senses were overwhelming. He didn’t know what was going to happen, but he needed the cell phone, and he needed to call Amalia. He tried to stop himself as he lunged forward and ran to the girl. He stood in front of her with rain dripping off of his body and the mud from the forest dropping off of his green scrub pants. Her long black hair rustled as he stopped before her. She had a look of horror on her face.

  Alex jolted his hand out at her and she dropped her phone to run inside to the convenience store. A short Asian man ran up behind her and locked the glass door. They both stood there, staring at him in amazement. Alex felt confused as to why they were being so evasive. He gazed at them for a moment and inched closer to the door. The girl started to cry hysterically and the man was screaming something in a language Alex couldn’t understand. He finally came close enough to look at his reflection in the glass of the convenience store door.

  He was the wolf that he had killed in the desert. Or had it been Gene? Or Gene as the wolf? This wolf was different though. Larger and more muscular than Gene’s wolf. He stared at the reflection as the Asian man continued to yell and the girl continued to cry.

  He looked down at the cell phone and attempted to pick it up, noticing the mud underneath his nails, which seemed to have grown within the last couple of hours. But all he could think of was Amalia. He was obsessed with getting back to her.

  He knew her cell phone number by heart. You don’t forget a number that you’ve called so many times that you could dial it blindfolded. The fingernails began to recede back into his hands, and the reflection looking back at him from the glass began to change back into what he was used to. His normal face stared back at him, judging his current situation with much regret and worry.

  He dialed the number as he walked away from the convenience store. The phone began to ring as Alex smiled in anticipation that she would answer.

  “Hello?” a female voice answered.

  “Amalia, baby it’s me. It’s Alex.”

  “Alex!”

  “Amalia, I need your help.”

  “Sweetie, I thought you were still in Afghanistan. How are you…”

  Alex interrupted, “Amalia, I need you.”

  “What do you need me to do?”

  Alex looked up and saw a black mustang running in front of the gas pumps. It must have been the crying girl’s car. There was a skull disco ball hanging from the rearview window. Alex smiled.

  “I need you to pray and watch for me ‘cause I’m comin’ home.”

  “Okay, baby. But where are you?”

  The cell phone began to beep. The battery was running low so he knew he didn’t have much longer to talk to her.

  “I’m somewhere outside of a place called Blearney, Texas. I was hurt and they brought me here, but I ran away from the hospital. I can’t explain it to you now, but something weird has happened to me, and I need you to help me figure this out. I have to go. I’ll be there soon. I love you.”

  “I love you too, baby. Please be careful.”

  Alex ended the call and walked over to the black mustang, opened the door, and got into the driver’s side. He turned the loud, obnoxious rock music down and put the car into drive. He looked back at the crying girl and yelling Asian man. The man was on the phone, probably calling the cops judging by the way he was waving his arms around and shouting into the phone. The girl banged on the door and was shouting too, telling him not to take her car. He jiggled his ears with his fingertips in an attempt to listen better, but he couldn’t focus on the girl enough to care.

  Alex did feel bad, having never stolen anything in his life before. But he needed to get home and explain things to Amalia. She could help him make sense of the situation. He put the car in drive and realized it had a Hemi under the hood. He went from zero to sixty in a matter of seconds. He didn’t know how to get to Mississippi from Blearney, but for now he would have to follow the highway signs and his sense of direction to get to her.

  He turned to look in the back of the car and noticed a black and grey shirt lying on the seat. Alex was freezing and, although it was probably a girl’s shirt, he put it on anyway. It was really tight on his arms and chest, but it served its purpose. He passed trees and few to no cars while traveling into the desolate and warm Texas night. He saw only the normal partygoers and habitual alcoholics weaving in and out of the yellow lines of the two-lane highway. He figured the cops would be after him soon for stealing what turned out to be a very powerful Mustang.

  He needed to get rid of the car but didn’t feel like walking barefooted. He wondered, with a touch of desperation, if the crying girl had any shoes in her trunk that might fit. “Every girl has tons of shoes,” he thought.

  He pulled over to an abandoned gas station, popped the trunk open, and got out of the car to walk around to see what there was. He heard a twig snap in the nearby woods and saw a female deer peeking out of the forest. He looked back down towards the road and noticed car lights coming in the distance. The deer stopped and sniffed the air. It turned and looked at Alex as he shielded his sensitive eyes from the headlights coming up around a distant curve. He looked back at the deer, which was now approaching the road. He could already see where this would end and felt an obligation to stop it.

  Alex began to walk out to motion the oncoming vehicle to stop before it hit the deer, but as he stepped out, the deer ran out into the road. The car swerved to miss it, but clipped its legs and the newer model BMW tail-spun into the gravel parking lot of the abandoned gas station. Alex hunkered down and the BMW only missed his stolen Mustang by inches.

  He ran over to the BMW, which was now filled with deployed air bags, to make sure the driver was okay. He seemed to be unconscious and lying on the huge pillow that had busted out of his steering wheel. The glasses on his face were twisted to the side. His white business shirt was sprinkled with glass and red wine. The smell of alcohol emanated from the car.

  There was a silence in the air as the deer lay injured and the driver unconscious. Alex walked around to the front of the BMW and saw blood all over the front headlights. The sight of the blood made the memories of the creature come rushing back. His hunger returned with a vengeance. He could smell the blood from the deer so powerfully that it seemed like it was right under his nose. He began to crave the taste of the blood that displayed on the headlights and licked his lips in anticipation. He attempted to ignore his feelings and the new senses that consumed him, but he couldn’t resist the smell. It almost overwhelmed him. However, he forced the urges away and turned back to the driver of the car. He felt for a pulse at his neck. The man seemed to be fine, other than being unconscious.

  Suddenly he bent over in pain beside the BMW. He grabbed hold of the driver’s side rearview mirror and fell to his knees. His body trembled, his stomach rumbled, and his head ached.

  Alex couldn’t make sense of what was happening to him. He tried to force himself to get back into the Mustang, but the blood in his veins felt like fire and the urge to eat the struck deer overcame him. Whatever was pulling him to feed wasn’t stopping until it had its fill. He couldn’t resist the urge to consume the mangled creature. It swamped him li
ke the madness of a criminally insane prisoner. His animalistic instincts took over and he was screaming inside of his head for his body to stop the devouring. He ripped into the animal with immense force and gorged himself upon its flesh.

  Chapter 4

  “You have one new voicemail.”

  Amalia considered deleting it but decided to listen anyway.

  “Amalia, I know you’re avoiding me but you need to get out of that house. I’m tired of being bored. Its work and home and work and home. No fun for Selene makes me all unhappy. C’mon girl, let’s go out and have some fun. I will keep it virginal, I promise. Call me back,” Selene’s voice begged of her.

  Amalia deleted the message and tossed the phone over onto a table by the front door. She was growing tired of Selene’s constant nagging at her to get out and have a life. Her life was with Alex, even though right now he wasn’t there. She couldn’t figure out if it was jealousy or true friendship that drove Selene to constantly urge her to go out.

  She ran her fingers through her long brown hair and her phone rang. She rolled her eyes, expecting Selene to be calling. She didn’t recognize the phone number and thought twice about answering. Selene had been relentless and she wouldn’t put it past her to call from some unknown number just to get her to answer.

  Shrugging off the thought, she answered to a surprising recognizable voice. Alex’s deep tones reverberated in her ear. The slight panic in his voice worried her, yet the longing to return that he spoke of comforted her. He was closer to her than he had been in months, and it brought a smile to her face.

  After she ended his call, she decided to call Selene and tell her the exciting news of his homecoming. Her fingers fumbled to dial the numbers but she stopped short of completing the call. Her mind ran wild. What if he called back? What if he wanted them to be left alone here at home?

  She carried her cell phone into the living room, clutching it tightly. She waited patiently for another call, another sign that he would be with her again.

  Chapter 5

  Commander Fortner slammed his passport down on the nurses’ station countertop, making Nurse Katrina jump a good few inches into the air. She turned a quick one hundred eighty degrees around to face the person who’d startled her and, as a consequence, made her extremely angry. Her anger quickly turned to fear when she saw who had made the loud noise.

  “Call Dr. Jackson for me. We need to talk,” Commander Fortner ordered.

  “Yes, sir. Right away, sir,” Katrina said, as she nervously picked up the phone. After pressing a few different buttons she said, “Dr. Jackson, the Commander is here to see you and he don’t seem too far happy about it neither…Yes sir… yes… uh-huh… okay, sweetie.”

  She hung the phone up and looked at the steaming, red-faced man in front of her. “He says he will be right with you, sir.”

  Commander Fortner nodded. He picked up his passport and began tapping it hard on the counter. He watched Katrina as she gathered files up and began to walk off. He knew that he made her nervous, but he didn’t know if it was from fear or because she thought he was attractive. He watched her walk away, and when she didn’t look back over her shoulder, he knew it was fear.

  “Good,” he thought. “That’s the way it needs to be.”

  “You needed me, sir?” a scared voice said from behind him.

  The Commander turned and grabbed Dr. Jackson by the throat and growled, “Yes, you little shit. You let my new pet leave. Administration is not going to be happy with you, or me. I told them they could trust you, and now look what’s happened.”

  Dr. Jackson began to struggle for air. The Commander released his grip, throwing him across the dingy white floors of the hospital. He slid a good five feet.

  “I’m sorry, sir, please let me explain.”

  “I don’t need your excuses, but Administration might.”

  The Commander picked up Dr. Jackson by his hospital coat and dragged him towards the elevator. Dr. Jackson grabbed the Commander’s hand trying to free himself.

  “I couldn’t stop him. I explained that he needed therapy, like I was told to, but he didn’t buy into it. He said he needed to get home to his wife and I don’t think that any words would have stopped him.”

  “You don’t get paid to think, Jackson. You get paid to do what you are told and you were told to restrain him if he didn’t buy into it, but you didn’t, so it’s your ass this time. It won’t be mine.”

  “But, sir, if you could just let me explain….”

  The Commander slammed him against the wall, stopping him from finishing his sentence.

  “I don’t give a shit about you, Jackson. Nor do I care about your excuses. They don’t matter. You don’t matter. Got it?”

  They were so close in the elevator, Dr. Jackson could feel the Commander’s breath on his face. The doors opened at the basement level to reveal grey tiled floors and grey and maroon wallpapered walls. The basement was dim and the few fluorescent lights that glittered along the ceiling were flickering helplessly to keep going. Commander Fortner pushed Dr. Jackson out of the elevator and followed him. Dr. Jackson’s footsteps were timid compared to the Commander’s confident steps.

  They walked around one corner after another. They passed several doors that were marked with the names of the many administrators, the people that ran the hospital. They came to a set of double doors marked ‘Inertia Meeting Room’.

  “I got Dr. Jackson here,” the Commander said into a little black box that resembled a small speaker.

  After a few moments, the door buzzed and they gained entry. The Commander once again grabbed Dr. Jackson by his white coat and dragged him into the room. In the middle was a long meeting table surrounded by big, leather, high-back chairs with chrome trim. There were men and women dressed in business suits in the chairs. At the head of the table was a tall, burly man dressed in an up-scale black suit and a red silk tie. His jet black hair glistened under the lights. He was clean-shaven and his skin had been kissed by artificial sun.

  “Have a seat, doctor,” the beautiful man said in a superior voice.

  He waved his hand at an empty chair towards the end of the table. The Commander let go of Dr. Jackson and he quickly made his way over to the chair. It swallowed him whole, but he straightened his lab coat and sat up straight. The Commander crossed his arms and stood patiently in the corner of the dark meeting room.

  “Do you know why you are here, Dr. Jackson?” a woman asked.

  She was sitting next to the end chair. Her black suit and red lips contrasted perfectly with her blonde hair and tanned skin. She was rather beautiful and it was difficult for Dr. Jackson to look at her, much less speak to her.

  “Ma’am, if I could just… I mean… if…” Dr. Jackson stumbled.

  “We don’t like excuses, Dr. Jackson. Let’s get to the point. You let a potential new asset run freely out of this establishment. We need people like him on our side. We need as many of his type as we can. He, in particular, would be especially beneficial to our cause. You do not know what is at stake, doctor. You are a man of medicine and you have been taught to heal and preserve the body and to cure disease. We want to preserve our bodies and live with our condition in a way that has been glorified across this nation. We wish to be idolized as lovable monsters. You want to cure disease, but we embrace the disease that we have been blessed with. We gain strength and stamina through blood, but our species cannot live forever. We are not the immortals that this world makes us out to be but… there is a way for us to gain immortality. There is a way for my business to thrive and for this Administration to be in charge for generations to come. We hunt the talisman and the immortal witch. He holds the key to true immortality.”

  “W-w-why are you telling me this?” Dr. Jackson responded.

  “Because your knowing of this won’t matter after today,” the blonde finished.

  Every person at the table turned and smiled at Dr. Jackson. He began to feel uneasy. This didn’t feel like an ordinar
y firing to him. And when they all stood in unison, he began to feel a little freaked out. He didn’t know if he should stand or speak. He just sat and watched all of them, trying to read their beautiful, blank faces.

  One of the men moved slowly over to stand beside Dr. Jackson. He leaned his behind against the end of the table and crossed his hands over in his lap. He looked at Dr. Jackson in a matter-of-fact kind of way.

  “This knowledge won’t matter after today, because you’re lunch!” he said and smiled.

  His teeth were normal except for two distinctive canine teeth that protruded a little longer than the rest of his perfect smile.

  Chapter 6

  The drunk in the wrecked BMW began to regain consciousness. He rubbed his forehead with his left hand and straightened his glasses on his face. He immediately wished that he had remained unconscious. He saw in his rearview mirror what appeared to be a beast tearing and ripping at the deer he’d hit.

  “I’m never drinking that much again,” he sighed.

  His car lights were flickering. The car clinkered and the lights faded to darkness. He frantically pushed the airbag down to make it deflate quicker and reached for the keys to get his car started again. The BMW sputtered and attempted to crank, but his tries were useless.

  “Shit,” he said aloud, and pounded the busted airbag with both fists.

  He looked back up into darkness and could just make out a man sitting on the ground beside what was left of the animal. He rolled out of the car and onto the ground. He didn’t feel injured, but he was still really drunk. He managed to pull himself upright and clung to the car roof as he balanced himself to walk. His first step was too much and he knocked over some empty barrels that his BMW had narrowly missed. The noise didn’t interrupt the man beside the deer.

  “Whoa, steady dude,” he mumbled to himself.