Created (Book 1 of the Created) (3 page)

     
     
Grabbing
the bowling ball sized rock I had used as a crude pillow from under my
head,
I readied myself by taking deep breaths.

     
     
Resolved
and gathered, it was time to fight.

     
     
I
could hear the gnashing of teeth as I worked to get into a better position to
exit from underneath the log. I could tell from the activity above, the
vampires were growing more agitated. A lot of scratching and snorting led to
complete silence. I paused, waiting for their next move.

     
     
A
gunshot cracked through the air, echoing through the trees, followed by a
horrific moan. Help had arrived. I was jubilant for a second until a wave of
relief and regret washed over me leaving me saddened.

     
     
I
felt the tree shift again as the vampire jumped from its perch.

     
     
Multiple
shots rang out. Several of the bullets missed their intended target ripping
through the downed tree. If I wanted to stay alive, I should stay under the
tree until the shooting was finished. I settled deeper into my earthen hovel.

     
     
Looking
through the cracks in my makeshift door, I saw a spiked haired vampire lying on
the ground two feet away from me. He appeared human except for his grayish,
pocked skin and dagger-like fangs. The fangs hung down in pairs on both sides
of the mouth about a half inch apart from its twin. The fangs were wide at the
root then narrowed to a point at the base. He was wearing a makeshift tunic of
animal skins and salvaged clothes.

     
     
Shouting
was closing on my position as the gunfire became interspersed with shrieks and
screams from the remaining vampires.

 
          
The
log rolled when the vampires used it as a springboard as they fled. In the low
light of the burgeoning morning, I could see two vampires jumping-running
through the trees in the early glimmers of sunlight as the sun peeked through
the trees.

           
I followed their escape, watching
both males scramble away. The two were dressed similarly to the dead vampire
beside me: one was exceedingly tall and the other of average height. The bigger
one snapped at the smaller one when he veered too close. The short one glanced
off a tree then bounced off another trying to escape the sharp teeth. Soon, the
two were out of sight.

 
          
“Hello?
You can come out now. We are Camp Cooper's security team. We are here to rescue
you.” A male's voice said calmly.

    
      
“Under
here!” Scrambling from my hiding place, I was careful not to disturb the dead
vampire on the ground. An unseen hand grabbed my shirt collar and helped me up.

    
      
I
turned to see my rescuer to thank him when the dead vampire sprung to life,
clutching at my pants leg.

    
      
I
know I screamed, but I felt removed from my body as the vampire's eyes popped
open. It all seemed to happen in slow motion: the eyes, the fangs.
 

    
      
Holding
my leg, the weak and incapacitated vampire pulled my leg toward his mouth.
Violently, I kicked the wounded beast in the head with my free foot until he
let go. He narrowly missed embedding his fangs as I drew back my leg.

           
Crawling with the use of only one
arm, he kept coming for me.

     
     
Backed
against the fallen tree, I turned to climb when a flash of metal whizzed by my
head. Looking over my shoulder, I saw the vampire searching for what remained
of his throat.

   
       
“Move!”

   
       
I
was easily pushed aside by the ancient Mr. Smith, who moved much better than
his age implied. He quickly pulled a silvery bladed machete from the vampire's
neck. A look of determination and aggravation was maintained as he hacked away
at the vampire that had been dispatched at my feet. In three blows, he finally
separated the head from the body.

    
      
 
“Tear the GV4 apart and burn it with the rest
while I dispose of this.” Smith picked up the lifeless vampire's head by its
thick mangy, black hair.
    

           
Two of the security team roughly
shoved by me before the men lifted the dead vampire by the legs, dragging it
away through the woods followed by ten or twelve others.

           
Mr. Smith studied the creature's
face. The man appeared to be looking for an answer to why all of this had
happened. Sullenly, he dropped the lifeless head to his side. He turned his
attention to me for the longest time then slightly shook his head as he led me
into the pines.

A man
I had never seen before paced agitatedly in the small confines of the isolation
room yelling at the man I knew as Mr. Smith. "What the hell happened out
there Leslie?!"

It was
the room where I was being tended to by a group of silently worried doctors and
nurses who avoided eye contact.

Mr.
Smith did not answer. He watched the hospital staff methodically inspect and
document every bit of torn flesh until in a final flurry wounds were dressed,
samples collected for study, and lumps smoothed with ointment.

The
dirty instruments and charts were stowed carefully. Looking over my bandages
covering my scratches, the lead doctor motioned to the hunting guide director
with a subtle nod.

The
collection of medical personnel quickly scooted out the door at the behest of
Mr. Smith, who secured the door after the last person exited.

What
kind of name is Leslie for a guy, I thought. The name really did his tough guy
image harm. I was delirious enough from either my horrifying night or the fresh
meds coursing through my veins to think it might be reasonable to ask him why
his parents would have named him such an awful name. Cloudy reasoning seemed to
take hold long enough to tell me to shut up.

The
drugs were beginning to take effect. My eye lids were feeling heavy though
sleep was the last thing I wanted. I tried to speak, but my lips wouldn't move.
Trying again, the numbness was spreading too fast. I felt myself drifting,
deeper and deeper almost like I was floating away but tethered to the bed.

When
did they give me a shot,
I
wondered?

Fighting
to stay awake, the need consumed me. I thought I wanted answers, but my body
felt light, relaxed. My mind was slowing. Warmness radiated throughout my body;
fogginess cluttered my mind. The two men were arguing, but there was no sound.
I could see through my foggy haze the conversation was animated. The mouths
appeared to be moving rapidly then slowly as the two faces became distorted,
blurred, and surreal.

I
snapped back to reality for a fleeting instance. At my side lay my useless arms
with something inside was begging me to sleep. It began a determined tug of
war, but I challenged the growing darkness. Tingling radiated through my
extremities as limbs were fought with in an effort to shake off the effects of
the sedative. A simple thought clung to life as the darkness filled the edges
of my mind: vampires aren't real.

I had
seen them. I had to know the truth. I had to know..
.

The
dreams were wildly vivid.

Glowing
greens and rich blacks lay before my eyes. The colors framed the hunting
encampment. Standing inside the former shed turned hunting blind again, I shook
in fear as an echo of screams started low at a faraway distance, but become
quickly deafening in the confined space.

My
hands trembled as I fumbled to lock the door. I knew it was a futile gesture if
even a single vampire wanted to taste my blood. The act shouldn't have slowed
my shaking, though momentarily I was a little more at ease.

Taking
a chair in front of the tinted and now closed window, I settled into gazing at
the spot where the hunting party had attempted to kill the GV4. The location
was empty. Hours seemed to pass.

Staring
out into the darkness, I watched as a single pair of flaming red eyes peered
from the shadows, creeping ever closer. I grabbed the arm rests of my chair as
the pair of eyes grew to four then eight sets. An icy sweat began to cover my
forehead and back. My heart thumped as a sense of panic rose inside. Against my
desire to distance myself from my own demise, I placed my hand on the
windowsill. Inexplicably, I leaned forward to catch a better view of the
approaching figures.

Abruptly,
I found myself awakening at night in an open field of waving golden brown wheat
straw. Unsure of my location, I lay still listening to the silent field.
 
No birds calling, no crickets chirping, not
even the rustling on the trees as a gentle wind pushed the flowing wheat from
side to side.

Rising
to one knee, I surveyed the waist high wheat and the surrounding woods, being
careful not to expose my position. The starless night contained a lonesome full
moon, which hung low in the sky like a spotlight framing the small field in a
yellow hue. Patiently, I scanned looking for signs of movement.

The
gentle sway of the straw was disarmingly calming. Content I was alone, I wanted
to make my next move in due time.

Waiting
for hours, feeling safe, I stood.

Whispering,
I asked myself, "Which direction do I proceed to get back to the base?

Huge,
clawed hands seized me from behind, lifting me from the ground before I could
satisfy my question with an answer. I could not free myself from the monstrous
grip as the claws dug into my flesh and fingers tightened as I struggled. The
pain emanating from my ripped muscle tissue was unbearable.

I felt
my feet losing contact with the ground as I was lifted upward. Stretching my
toes downward, I hoped to find footing to no avail.

My
back brushed against the creature's torso as I was drawn nearer. I wanted to
scream, but in my fright I was unable to issue a solitary sound.

The
being's breathing was heavy and smelled rancid. The warm air and smell coupled
with my impending doom made me nauseated. I felt the sudden deep relief huffing
of a hunger about to be satisfied grace my neck. The beast paused after taking
a final sniff.

I
thought I was going to pass out. My head was spinning as my body went
completely slack.

A
crazily depraved scream covered the animalistic utterances of the monster who
was threatening to kill me. I rapidly realized the scream was my own as a
single fang pierced the skin of my throat.

I
awoke trying to grab at my throat to find my hands bound at my sides by
metallic strapping attached to a metal bed. Struggling to free myself, the
strapping was digging into the skin on my wrists causing them to begin to
bleed. A frayed strand of the woven metal broke free, sliding underneath my
skin with ease. I winced at the pain though it was minimal; no more than a
large caliber needle used to draw blood. It was the unusual feeling of something
inside my skin that bothered me more.

The
drugs were rapidly wearing off. My bones ached; blood drizzled from my chaffed
wrists. My head felt as if the top of my skull was being hacked off with a dull
axe, and worse, I still did not know where or why I was being held.

Easing
up from the bed, I attempted to sit somewhat upright so I could look around,
using my elbows to hold myself in position, careful not to pinch my already raw
wrists again. I called aloud, "Where am I?"

My
vision began returning to normal from its blurry state with every blink.
Faintly, I could see a group of people dressed in dark military attire carrying
weapons milling above me on a series of gray walkways.

The
ceiling of the room was stark white with large rectangular fluorescent lights
spaced evenly apart. Following the ceiling down, men and women dressed in
surgical uniforms were scrambling hurriedly to place medical machines in the
room.

"Hello?
Can you tell me what is going on?"

No one
acknowledged my questions or acknowledged me.

A
female clad in blue scrubs pushed a cart covered by a blue drape within two
feet of the bed.

I
spoke to her, "Can you tell me what is happening? What is wrong with
me?"

The
woman turned to me. I could tell she was in her late twenties to mid-thirties with
brown hair and highlights of auburn hanging loosely from her cap. A mask
covered her face. What small amount of features that was visible appeared to be
attractive.

When
she looked up, I was instantly caught off guard. Her eyes were entirely bright
sunflower yellow with a hint of orange around the outer recesses. The corneas
and the irises were not visible but entirely gone. The yellow coloring was
solid making the eyes seem to be a single solid piece until the eyes met her
dark flesh. If the eyes had been dark, they would have appeared lifeless like a
doll except there was no reflection.