By the time Jerry got to the house, Craig was already frantic. He’d thrown the door wide open in response to Jerry’s knock and stared at the man, with tears glistening in his eyes.
“Look,” he said simply, holding out his hand.
Jerry’s hand trembled as he took the piece of paper and read.
Please don’t worry about me. I just need some time alone.
Will be in touch soon.
Love you both,
Cam
“Some of his clothes are gone and it looks like his handwriting, but we both know that he didn’t write it, don’t we? The bastards have taken him, Jerry. He’s probably already dead!”
“Christ, don’t say that. They wouldn’t kill him. He’s just a boy,” said Jerry, stepping inside.
“A boy who has been working on decoding encrypted disks!”
Jerry’s face paled. “They wouldn’t.” The words were barely a whisper.
“I’m going to the police. We’ve got to tell them that Cam’s missing.”
His hand was on the receiver when Jerry stopped him. “He’s nineteen. They’re not even going to start looking for him for at least twenty-four hours and if Cam is…is still alive, we don’t want to spook them into doing anything to him.”
“Oh, crap!”
“I know it’s—”
“No – I wasn’t meaning that. Mom’s due home any moment.” Craig sat down on one of the kitchen chairs with a thump. “Oh, God. What do I say to her?”
“The truth. And I’ll tell her,” Jerry said, firmly. “Do you have to collect her from the airport?”
Craig shook his head. “She’s getting a cab.” He glanced at his watch. “She’ll be here in around thirty minutes.”
“Do you have a computer?”
“What? Yeah, there’s the desk top in Mom’s office. But what do you want a computer for?”
“Where’s the office?” said Jerry, striding out of the kitchen.
Running after him, Craig pointed to a door on the right in the hall. “What are you going to do?”
“I still work there, Craig. I’m going to see if I can find anything out.”
*~*~*~*
After being force fed large amounts of human blood, Spike was fit for duty the next day. Obediently he followed Mark out of his cell, but to his surprise he wasn’t led to the door of the enclosure, but to where they were loaded into vehicles.
He hissed as a hand grabbed at his flaccid cock and tried to scan it.
“Give the tracking device a bit of a boost. I can’t scan it when it’s like this,” grumbled the latex gloved tech.
A pleasant buzz went through Spike’s penis and this time when the tech took it in his hand it was half hard and easy to scan.
Mark leaned close to Spike’s ear. “Perform well tonight and you’ll be rewarded.”
A shiver ran down Spike’s spine, partly thrilled at the thought of something pleasant after all the bad he’d gone through, but mostly fear, as he knew that if he got the chance he’d run. Run until he found a nice sharp branch to hurl himself against.
As he was strapped into position. Spike overheard Mark and another handler talking.
“They’re flying the boy out here. He accessed Seventeen’s files. We can use Seventeen as leverage to make sure he tells us all that he knows.”
The boy? They’d said I’d behaved after the boy got hurt. Is this the same one? I don’t know any boys.
His mind reeling, Spike made sure that he was facing forwards as Mark climbed into the transporter.
Mark turned off his sight. “Take a nap, Seventeen, we’ll be on the road for a while.”
Feeling anything but sleepy, Spike closed his eyelids and tried to think of any boy he might have known.
Several hours later, Spike’s sight was activated and his lids permanently opened. Even before the transporter’s door opened, Spike knew that it would be a remote area as he was still totally naked. His lack of footwear made him realise that he was still going to be the quarry. He wondered idly whether the artificial parts of him would dust too, or would they remain intact. Smiling at the thought of a pair of eyes, a thumb and a knee joint, being left behind, Spike met Mark’s eyes more boldly than he had done in days.
“Do well today, Seventeen, and you’re back to being a hunter again. Remember how nice the rewards were?” Mark laughed as the vampire’s cock twitched. “Looks like at least this part of you does.” He pumped his hand up and down Spike’s length and laughed louder as Spike moved his hips upwards. “Slut,” said Mark affectionately.
Released from his seat, Spike was taken to a narrow track some two hundred yards from the transporter, before being told to run. Without a backwards glance, Spike jogged away. The air was crisp and there was the tang of sheep in it. His mouth watered remembering the blood of the panther. Just before being loaded up, the techs had clipped his teeth and this time all of them had been reduced to blunt nubs barely proud of the gums, rather than just his fangs, so he knew that he’d never be able to tear open anything’s throat.
The illusion of freedom that being out there gave him made Spike postpone his suicide. He’d enjoy one last run in the night air with springy moorland turf beneath his bare feet.
*~*~*~*
Craig tensed up as he heard a car draw up outside their house, he glanced out of the window and saw his mom pay the driver, as he handed her the small suitcase. As she walked up the path, he could see that she was smiling. It had been so long since he’d seen her smile like that, and his heart clenched knowing that he’d be the one responsible for erasing it from her face.
He stood frozen, unable to move, as the door opened and she walked in.
“Boys! I’m home!”
Her smile faded when she saw her eldest son transfixed before her.
“What is it?”
A movement caught her eye and her eyes narrowed as Jerry walked into view.
“Jerry. What are you doing here?”
The men glanced at each other before Jerry cleared his throat. “Um…you may want to sit down.”
Craig couldn’t help but smile as Buffy glared at Jerry and took a step forward, letting the suitcase fall to the floor with a clatter. “Tell me!”
“Er…” Jerry looked helplessly at Craig as his nerve failed.
“Mom. Spike’s not dead,” blurted Craig. “The Initiative took him back. They were trying to find out why and—”
“Where’s Cam?” Buffy stared at each in turn.
“Well the thing is…” started Craig.
“We think the Initiative took him,” finished Jerry, backing up a couple of paces.
“You think what!”
Buffy had Jerry slammed against the banister to the stairs before he had time to react. “Why do you think that? What the hell has been going on?”
“Mom,” cautioned Craig.
Jerry sighed with relief as the former slayer let him go. “Where is my son?”
“I’ve been using my contacts at work and it looks likely that he was put on a plane to England. It fits with the time we know he went missing.”
“Why haven’t you called the police?”
“Think about it for a minute, Mom,” said Craig putting a hand on her arm. “No way would they take on the Initiative. They’d never take us seriously.”
“He’s right,” added Jerry.
“If you’re sure that he’s been taken to England I need to get on a flight there as soon as I can, and I think you need to tell me the whole story,” said Buffy, firmly.
As Craig called the airline to book the tickets, Jerry brought Buffy up to speed on what they had discovered so far.
“Spike’s not dust?” said Buffy.
“No.”
“They wouldn’t hurt Cam. He’s human. They’ll just want to scare the pants off him for messing with their files,” she said, knowing how ridiculous it sounded.
“I don’t know why they've done what they have,” said Jerry.
“Mom,” said Craig walking in the room. “We need to leave now. I’ve got us on the next flight to London.”
“Did you book me a ticket? I’ll call in sick,” Jerry said.
“No. I need you to stay here. You’ll be able to access stuff from the inside that we would have no hope of getting,” stated Buffy. “We’ll keep in touch. Now get out of my house.”
“We’ll find him,” said Jerry.
“We better,” replied Buffy. “Craig, grab some things – just enough for a carry-on bag.” As he took the stairs two at a time, she turned back to Jerry. “You still here? I’ll need the address for the Initiative over there. And not just the public address, okay?”
“I’ll text Craig with the details. I’m sorry.”
Without waiting for a reply, Jerry ducked out of the house and disappeared into the darkness.
Craig ran back downstairs. “Ready?”
Grabbing the car keys from the dish on the table, Buffy nodded. “Yes. Let’s get on that plane.”
*~*~*~*
Spike was beginning to tire and his attempts at leaving little or no trail for the hunter to follow were getting less effective. He stood still, hands on his sides, panting as he glanced around to find a suitably sharp tree branch. Up on the moors there were more scrub-like bushes than proper trees. Smiling when he spotted a likely candidate, he walked over to it. The end of the branch was a little flexible so he snapped it off and stripped it of its leaves. It was a bit higher than the level of his heart, but all he’d have to do would be to jump up a little way. Then it would be over.
He took several steps back and paused. Inhaling deeply, he ran at the branch, leaping off the ground with his last stride. The sharp tip plunged deeply into his chest, before breaking away from the tree. Spike yelled out as he hit the ground and the stick buried itself even deeper. Rolling on his back, he thought dusting would have been less painful and quicker.
Shite, it hurts!
Images flashed into Spike’s mind so clearly that for a moment he thought it was one of the films the techs had used when testing his eyes.
“Spike, I’m sorry!”
The voice belonged to boy of about twelve.
“Bloody hell, Cam! What have I told you about messing with your mum’s weapons? Damn near dusted me!”
Cam reached out to touch the crossbow bolt that was firmly embedded in the vampire’s chest, only an inch or so away from the heart.
“Don’t touch it!” yelled Spike.
“Does it hurt?” Cam asked, eyes wide.
“I’ve got a chunk of wood stuck in me – what do you think?” His words were harsh but the tone had gone from annoyed to indulgent.
“Do you want me to help get it out?”
“No, I sodding well don’t. Go and get your mother.”
The images faded as quickly as they’d arrived and Spike was once more aware of the grass beneath him and the chill of the air…and the piece of wood embedded just shy of his heart. He clenched his jaw and pulled it out.
“Fuck." He grimaced as he threw the stick to the ground.
Cameron. The boy was Cameron. He put a hand over his eyes as he tried to remember more, but he couldn’t. The only thing he was sure of was that he’d loved that boy and if he was in danger, he needed to help him. A noise had him on his feet in an instant, tensed, ready to fight, the makeshift stake in his hands, but it was only a fox out on a hunt of its own.
“They can see what I can see,” he muttered. “Oh, shit! They’ll know what I’ve tried to do.”
Fear of what they’d do to him, coupled with the fact that if he was locked in his cell there would be nothing he could do to help the boy, leant wings to his feet and he rang headlong, crashing through undergrowth and leaping stonewalls. A building came into sight and he smashed the door down. The sign above it said ‘Speedwell Mine’. He might be able to lose them in the tunnels. The ground beneath his feet was slick and as Spike raced down the stone steps, he slipped and fell headlong down them. Falling for what seemed like an age. He landed in water, and barely conscious, he sank to the bottom.
Pain!
Tremendous pain!
His body arched as he opened his mouth to yell but all that happened was that water flooded in. His hands sought the location of the pain. The head of his penis seared. Like being electrocuted. The tracking device was shorting out. Driven half mad by the bolts of pain running through him, Spike worked his thumb into the slit and dug frantically, desperate to get rid of the device. The pain as he pulled the tracking device free was so great that he passed out. The microchip fell out of his lax grip and floated away in the slight current in the water.
*~*~*~*
“Where the fucking hell is he?” roared Mark, when the signal on the monitor indicating Spike’s progress on the moor blinked and went out.
A flurry of activity ensued as techs frantically tried to relocate the tracking device’s signal. Some ten minutes later to everyone’s relief the signal blinked back into life.
“Where’s the other one?” Mark glanced at the other monitors. “Is he still on Seventeen’s trail?”
“He’s about two miles away from him and circling around. Looks like he’s lost him, sir.”
“Damnit!” Mark rubbed a hand over his face.
“Um…you better see this, sir,” a voice said nervously.
Mark turned to see one of the techs – he could never remember any of their names – pointing at a monitor.
“I’ve been watching the visuals from Seventeen and at first I dismissed it as a stumble but now I’m not so sure.”
The screen flickered into life and they could dimly see trees as Seventeen looked around. Then one tree got bigger and bigger as Seventeen ran towards it. The picture reeled and went black.
“Shit! I thought you said you’d fixed any glitches."
“The camera is still working. He’s on his back looking upwards,” said the technician. “Seventeen covers his eyes for a time before he gets up, but concentrate on the bottom right of the screen.”
Mark moved closer and inwardly cursed the fact that he hadn’t enabled the vampire’s night vision. His eyes widened when he briefly saw the object in Spike’s hand.
“Shut the fucker’s eyes down! Switch off the cameras!” Mark said, urgently.
“But, sir. That means we can’t see where he is either.”
“I don’t care! He’s just tried to stake himself! Do you know how much that vampire is worth? Even in the retirement sheds? Christ, we can’t lose him. Walsh will have my balls on a platter!”
“Shutting down the cameras now, sir,” said the tech with the press of a couple of keys on the computer.
“Now activate the reward.”
“Sir? But—”
“Do it! It will keep him occupied and in one spot until I get transport there.”
“Yes, sir!”
They both watched the monitor intently.
“Um…he’s still moving, sir. Slowly, but still on the move.”
“The bastard knows what will happen to him when I get my hands on him. Keep me up to date on the coordinates. And get the other brought back in. Don’t reward it though.”
Deep in the underground river, Spike’s limp body moved slowly along the bottom before becoming wedged against a rock and coming to a stop.
~~~~~~
Check out the Speedwell Mine.
http://www.speedwellcavern.co.uk/index.html
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