Chapter Forty-Two
Maggie Walsh scowled at the photographer as she crossed the parking lot towards her car. She considered going over to the man to demand the film be given back – she never allowed unsolicited pictures – but before she could alter her path, the man had gone, melting into the shadows as if he’d never been there at all.
Shaking her head, she got in the car and continued on her way home, wishing that she hadn’t bothered to stop off at the small supermarket. This debacle with the missing tracker was beginning to really annoy her, and she had been unable to resist the pull of a good bottle of whisky.
It wasn’t until she got back to the office the next morning that she realised just why someone had been so interested in taking her photograph. She had barely sat in her office chair when a timid knock at the door had her bark out the order to enter.
A man, looking like he’d rather be anywhere but there, walked in with a folded newspaper in his hand.
“Uh…ma’am, we may have a problem.”
Rolling her eyes, Maggie leaned back in her chair. “We have a tracker on the run with a former slayer – of course we have a problem. And has Finn returned yet? I thought I said that I was to be told as soon as he returned to base.”
In reply, the man held out the newspaper. Maggie frowned when she noticed how his hand trembled making the paper rustle. Reaching out, she snatched it from him and gasped when she saw the headline.
“Goddammit!”
She ran a hand through her short hair as her mind raced, seeking damage control measures. Standing, she pointed to the fidgeting soldier.
“Go to section Three Fourteen and euthanize all subjects. Now!”
The man jumped and hurried out of the office. “Get the incinerators running as hot as possible,” she called after him.
Alone in the office, she paced back and forth. “This cannot be happening!”
She paused, a truly evil smile on her face. She needed a scapegoat and she needed one fast. But who could she trust? After a pause she picked up the telephone and as a precaution, scrambled the signal before calling her contact. The conversation was brief and to the point. By the time she hung up, she knew that what she needed would be done within the hour.
The handset hadn’t stopped rattling in its cradle when another knock at her door brought her attention back to inside the facility.
“Enter.”
“Ma’am?”
“Oh, for Christ’s sake, McManus, what is it?”
“We’ve got the RSPCA at the front gate demanding to be allowed inside.”
Shaking her head impatiently, Maggie said, “The who? What the hell do they want?”
“RSPCA, ma’am. Royal Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals,” McManus said, reading from the card he’d been given. “They’re here to investigate the allegations of cruelty to the trackers and hunters.”
“Tell them to go away. This is ridiculous. They’re supposed to look after puppies and kittens not demons.”
McManus didn’t move. “Uh…they said you’d probably say that, but they have a warrant to enter the premises and have the police with them.”
“Shit!” Closing her eyes briefly, Maggie took a deep breath. “Move any that have been recently disciplined to Three Fourteen. We can keep them out of there. Ward it as soon as they are moved.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She grabbed her jacket from the hanger on the back of the door, and shrugged it on as she strode down towards the entrance to the facility, her heels clicking on the tiled floor.
Minutes later she was walking down the corridor with the RSPCA inspector, Dan Legge, and the local police chief superintendent, Edward Fitch.
“This will be a complete waste of your time. These creatures are not like the animals that your society seeks to protect. They are well fed and have comfortable quarters. The training might seem harsh, but they are not Labrador puppies. They need discipline.”
The men exchanged an uncomfortable glance, worried at what they might have to see. They’d been given an advance copy of Henry Garthorpe’s report and if what he had written about was true, then they both might regret having eaten breakfast.
They entered the quarters where the fully trained trackers were kept and couldn’t help but be impressed at how clean the conditions were.
“We will need to inspect them more closely than through the glass of these cells,” said Dan.
“As you wish.”
She pushed the button to open the nearest cell. “Knock yourself out. This is Fifteen- Thirty-Six. He’s been in the program for three years. Shaping up to be one of the best trackers we’ve ever had.”
The two men walked nervously towards the naked vampire. The vampire’s natural eye studied them carefully as they approached him.
“Uh…what’s this bruise?” asked Dan, pointing at a livid bruise on the creature’s abdomen.
“Ask it. He can answer your questions.”
“Oh… right. How did you get this?”
The tracker glanced down as he waited for the slight delay in his speech to pass. “Punched by a Rolazar when tracking, sir.”
Maggie smiled when she saw the surprise the vampire’s polite tone caused both men.
“Um…was it tended to properly? Are you in pain now?”
“Was seen to in the field and checked when I got back here. No pain, sir.”
“What about your eye!” Edward blurted, unable to stay silent for any longer.
The vampire frowned. “Sir?”
“They took out one of your eyes, for Christ’s sake! Tell me that you didn’t mind that?”
Maggie concealed her smile behind her hand. The way that Fitch had worded his question meant that there was only one way Fifteen-Thirty-Six could respond. It sounded like an order.
“I didn’t mind, sir.” The tracker glanced at Maggie. “I’m a good tracker.”
“That’s right. You are,” Maggie said. “Now rest.”
The vampire immediately sat on the narrow bed and was swinging his feet up onto it as the humans left his cell.
An hour later, Maggie was beginning to enjoy herself. The fools had no idea how to quiz the vampires to get truthful answers to their questions. Fitch’s cell phone rang and he answered it quickly, stepping off to the side as he held the handset to his ear.
“Finn has given us the code for the wing with the experiments,” Garthorpe said quietly. “Its access is next to the training room B.” The reporter gave the police officer all the information he needed.
Fitch disconnected and turned to face Walsh. “How about Three Fourteen? Take us there.”
He had to hand it to the woman, apart from a slight tic in her left eye, her expression gave nothing away.
“I’m sorry? I don’t understand.”
“It’s were the new intake are kept and where the sick experiments you do here are housed.”
“The new intake?” Maggie frowned. “I’ve already explained that the primary training is done in the USA. We only deal with fully trained trackers or hunters here in the UK.”
“So you’re telling me that you have no idea where this department is?” Fitch stepped up close to her.
“That,” Maggie said, not moving an inch, “is exactly what I am saying.”
“Take us to training room B.”
With a smile, Maggie stepped to the side. “That I can do, gentlemen. It’s this way.”
She kept up a brisk pace as she led them through the facility. A surreptitious glance at her watch made the corners of her mouth twitch. The deed would have been done by now. Everything was going according to her plan.
Pausing outside the training room door she said, “Here it is. It isn’t in use at the moment.”
If Edward hoped to rattle her into revealing her knowledge of the wing when he recited the words Henry had relayed from Finn, then he was disappointed; all he got was what looked like a very genuine expression of surprise when the door was revealed.
“How did you do that?” she asked eyes wide.
“Your former right hand man, Riley Finn told the reporter Henry Garthorpe about it.”
“So this is where he said experiments are done?”
“Yes.”
Maggie planted her hand firmly on the door. “Well what are we waiting for? If there are illegal experiments going on in my facility I want to see them and stop them!”
Without waiting to see if the men were following, Maggie burst through the doorway with as much indignation as she could muster. Dan and Edward exchanged startled looks and hurried after her.
Nothing that Henry Garthorpe had told them prepared them for what they found in those rooms. Edward called immediately for back-up to come to secure the site. The first thing they saw was a skinny youth, rocking back and forth in the corner of a small glass fronted cell.
“My God! Get a doctor! Now!” Edward had to steady himself with a hand on the wall as he reached for the button to open the door.
“Not so fast.” Maggie’s hand stilled his movement. “He’s a vampire.”
“What?”
She inclined her head towards the cell. “Look.”
Sure enough, the youth now sported the familiar ridges and fangs of a vampire, but what had turned the policeman’s stomach remained the same. The youth’s eye sockets were empty holes, the lids fluttering uselessly over the voids. As they watched his features morphed back to human and his fingers tentatively explored his ruined face before he resumed rocking back and forth a keening wail escaping his pale lips.
“There’s another door down there,” Dan said as he strode by them, trying not to gawk at the creatures in the cells on either side.
The stench of burning flesh hit him as he flung the door open. Two soldiers were shoving a large tray into an incinerator.
“Stop what you’re doing and step away!”
“But—”
The soldier got no further as the charge from Maggie’s tazer put him on the ground. She turned to the other. “Hit the deck, soldier.”
With a startled look, the man dropped to his knees and then lowered himself until he was facedown on the floor with his hands clasped behind his head.
Edward stepped past them and pulled the partially inserted tray out of the incinerator. A large red button labelled off was just to the left and he slammed it with his palm. The flames were extinguished. The requested back up arrived and soon manhandled the hapless soldiers away.
Dan vomited quietly in a corner as the tray revealed some badly charred limbs.
“Are you seriously expecting me to believe you had no idea this place existed?” Edward somehow managed to keep a sneer from his voice.
Maggie met his eye boldly. “I have never set foot in this area in my life. Remember, this facility isn’t under my command. I am merely visiting. The manager is Roger Futter.”
“And just where will we find him?”
She looked at her watch. “He should be in his office at ten thirty.”
Leaving the back up team to monitor the incinerator room until forensics arrived, Walsh, Legge and Fitch walked slowly back along the corridor staring in each cell in turn.
“I can’t tell you how horrified I am at what we have found here,” Maggie said, as they looked at yet another horribly mutilated creature. “I want to assure you of my complete cooperation.”
Fitch found it hard to believe her. “What of the retirement sheds? What happens when the trackers are no longer of any use?”
Maggie smiled. “Well, obviously we have to care for them within the facility. But I like to think that we give them a nice period of retirement before we humanely destroy them.”
Seeing the RSPCA inspector beginning to bristle at the mention of destruction, Maggie continued.
“These creatures are immortal. There is no way that we could keep them to such high standards if we didn’t give them a year long retirement before final death.”
Dan found himself nodding; she made it all sound so logical.
“Would you like to see them?”
“Yes.”
“Inspector Fitch, will you join us?” Maggie Walsh asked politely.
“No. I’ll leave that to the RPSCA. I need to have a talk with this Roger Futter.” Edward nodded at the others and remained where he was as they walked away.
Ten minutes later, Maggie paused in front of a thick metal door with the word Retirement Shed stencilled on it in bold red letters.
“I must warn you that the reason a tracker or hunter is retired is always down to severe injuries received out in the field. There are some not very pretty sights in here, but they are comfortable and safe.”
Dan swallowed hard. “I understand.”
Walsh swiped a card in a slot and waited for a beep before she pushed open the door, quietly congratulating herself on devising this cover for what really happened to the vampires once active service was impossible. The unit had been devised so it could be included in the documentary that Seventeen’s escape had halted the filming of.
She watched Dan’s face as they walked along. None of the vampires in this section had actually ever been trackers or hunters. She had selected them from newly captured vampires and then overseen their training for this role single-handedly. Their cooperation was easy to ensure when she’d made their worse fears partially come true. The behaviour chip used in them was her pride and joy. To be able to control what they actually said was an amazing achievement.
“Vampires are generally solitary creatures,” she said, as they walked past the accommodation. “But each day they are given the opportunity to use the communal room to mix with the others.”
“Uh…what happened to this one?” Dan’s voice was a little higher than he would have liked.
“Oh, that is one of our very early ones, Fifteen.” Maggie was pleased that she had the foresight to have a number lower than that trouble maker, Seventeen. “He had tracked the scent of a young girl who’d been taken by a group of vampires. Unfortunately they spotted him, and what you see is the result of the damage feral vampires can inflict.”
She pressed the intercom on the wall. “Hey, Fifteen. How are you today?”
The vampire turned towards her voice, reaching for the metal crutch leaning against his armchair. He manoeuvred himself towards the glass.
“I’m doing well, ma’am, thank you.”
As he stood facing them, Dan got a better view than he would have liked of the injuries sustained by the former tracker.
The right leg was missing from the hip, along with…Dan shuddered…one of the testicles. The left arm ended with a stump at the elbow.
“Well, you take it easy.”
Fifteen nodded and began to make his way back to the chair.
“We can repair injuries like damaged knees but, the hip joint was just totally destroyed in Fifteen and there was no way we would make him fit to work again.”
Maggie led Dan towards the next room, trying not to smile at the memory of how Fifteen had screamed as she’d ruined the socket of his hip with holy water. He’d soon decided to do what she said after that. He knew she had meant it when she’d promised to do the same to his left leg.
The face of the next subject was almost unrecognisable. Only an irregular slash of pink showed where the mouth was. The fingers of both hands looked like they had simply melted away.
“This is terribly sad. I’m only going to allow him to remain here for a month or so, before I give him final death. He fell into a vat of holy water out on a hunt. It’s like acid to them. He’s blind and completely deaf. His tongue fell victim to it too. But we can offer him top quality food for a few weeks to give him some reward before he is staked.”
“Poor bastard,” muttered Dan.
“Indeed.”
Maggie walked on. That had been the only vampire to fail to come to obey her. She was lying when she said she intended to stake him soon. As far as she was concerned, the beast could stay there in its silent, dark world forever.
“Most of the injuries are missing limbs, as you can see.”
Dan nodded dumbly as he saw the poor mutilated creatures, but they all seemed in good condition despite their injuries and they all smiled at Maggie’s voice. By the time she’d shown him the chair where the dusting took place, Dan had come to the conclusion that the woman did truly care for her charges and that their method of retirement wasn’t at all unpleasant for the retirees.
She allowed him to see a hunter put through his paces in the training enclosure and couldn’t mistake the enthusiasm the vampire had for the hunt.
At the end of the visit, he shook her hand and thanked her warmly for her time. He’d just rejoined Fitch when the inspector’s radio crackled into life.
“Sir. We’ve found a body. Looks like Roger Futter. He’s committed suicide.”
“Dammit!”
Edward shouted out some orders to the unit he was keeping in place in the facility, before striding to the exit to view the body before it was taken away by the coroner.
Down the corridor, Maggie leaned against the wall and grinned. The final piece had just dropped into place.
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