sad. He looked up at Terrill. “I’m weak.”
Terrill stepped back, expecting him to explode, as Stuart, the leader of the Wilderings, had when he’d ingested Terrill’s blood. Instead, the skinny vampire’s flesh slid off his bones and instantly decayed into a putrid puddle. His back arched and his bones disconnected from each other, his skull rolling off to one side.
They all stood in a circle over the putrefying remains, too shocked to move.
Finally, Jamie spoke. “Next time, could we do this outside? I don’t think we’ll ever get those stains out of the carpet.”
No one laughed. Sylvie nodded, as if that had been a serious comment. “We’ll have to come up with some procedures, that’s for sure. Maybe some kind of test. Some way to weed out the less than sincere.”
Terrill was stunned, not only by the preceding events, but also by Sylvie’s words. It struck him that this was going to be a constant occurrence; that as The Testament of Michael reached more and more vampires, some were going to seek him out, both worthy and unworthy.
“We’re not waiting until morning,” he said. “We’re leaving tonight.”
The others didn’t argue. Their two vans were already loaded and gassed up. As soon as they cleaned up the mess, they locked up the house and left, telling no one where they were going.
#
An hour later, a SWAT team stormed the house. After a short time, the team leader emerged and approached the FBI agent in charge.
“It’s clear,” he reported. “Looks like they packed up and left. Other than a god-awful smell, there’s nothing here.”
Callendar nodded. He sensed that they had just missed the vampires. Secretly, he was relieved. This raid hadn’t been his idea.
After Crescent City, he’d been put on leave. Orders had come in for him to be FBI liaison to the Canadian government across the border from the oil fracking fields of North Dakota. He’d laughed when he’d read that. North Dakota! They couldn’t have found a more isolated spot for him to be exiled.
He didn’t care anymore. He only had two years left until he’d put in his thirty years, and he didn’t care where he spent them.
Then, unexpectedly, he’d been called to Washington, to find himself, along with his partner, Jeffers, in the office of the director of the FBI. Jeffers hadn’t been in charge at Crescent City, and Callendar had been glad that he’d avoided most of the blame. They’d given each other a big hug, something they had never done before in front of other people.
Director Landry didn’t greet them, didn’t even look up from his desk. Instead, he started reading something off his computer.
“‘Fear not the hunter, for if thou art innocent of spilling the red blood, thou shalt be absolved of all crime. Drink thou of the Blood of Gold and thou shalt live in peace alongside mankind until the end of thy days.’”
Landry looked up, frowning. “What do you know about this?”
“I have read The Testament of Michael ,” Callendar said. “That’s all I know.”
“But what is this ‘blood of gold?’”
“Did you read our report?” Callendar asked, and the director nodded. “Then you know that Terrill and his followers walk in sunlight. Nor did I see them kill any human. I think I believe what the book is saying, sir.”
“‘Fear not the hunter,’” Landry intoned. “I’m not sure we want that to be the message people hear. It’s been decided to take this Terrill and as many of his followers as we can find and bring them under our… protection. We want them alive, if possible.”
“If possible?” Jeffers asked.
“I mean that,” Landry nodded. “That isn’t some code to take them down. We need to find out what this Terrill is about. We need a sample of that blood of gold. So do everything you can to keep at least one of these new-type vampires alive. If possible, Terrill himself. Understood?”
“Yes, sir,” Callendar and Jeffers said.
“We have word that
Terrill stepped back, expecting him to explode, as Stuart, the leader of the Wilderings, had when he’d ingested Terrill’s blood. Instead, the skinny vampire’s flesh slid off his bones and instantly decayed into a putrid puddle. His back arched and his bones disconnected from each other, his skull rolling off to one side.
They all stood in a circle over the putrefying remains, too shocked to move.
Finally, Jamie spoke. “Next time, could we do this outside? I don’t think we’ll ever get those stains out of the carpet.”
No one laughed. Sylvie nodded, as if that had been a serious comment. “We’ll have to come up with some procedures, that’s for sure. Maybe some kind of test. Some way to weed out the less than sincere.”
Terrill was stunned, not only by the preceding events, but also by Sylvie’s words. It struck him that this was going to be a constant occurrence; that as The Testament of Michael reached more and more vampires, some were going to seek him out, both worthy and unworthy.
“We’re not waiting until morning,” he said. “We’re leaving tonight.”
The others didn’t argue. Their two vans were already loaded and gassed up. As soon as they cleaned up the mess, they locked up the house and left, telling no one where they were going.
#
An hour later, a SWAT team stormed the house. After a short time, the team leader emerged and approached the FBI agent in charge.
“It’s clear,” he reported. “Looks like they packed up and left. Other than a god-awful smell, there’s nothing here.”
Callendar nodded. He sensed that they had just missed the vampires. Secretly, he was relieved. This raid hadn’t been his idea.
After Crescent City, he’d been put on leave. Orders had come in for him to be FBI liaison to the Canadian government across the border from the oil fracking fields of North Dakota. He’d laughed when he’d read that. North Dakota! They couldn’t have found a more isolated spot for him to be exiled.
He didn’t care anymore. He only had two years left until he’d put in his thirty years, and he didn’t care where he spent them.
Then, unexpectedly, he’d been called to Washington, to find himself, along with his partner, Jeffers, in the office of the director of the FBI. Jeffers hadn’t been in charge at Crescent City, and Callendar had been glad that he’d avoided most of the blame. They’d given each other a big hug, something they had never done before in front of other people.
Director Landry didn’t greet them, didn’t even look up from his desk. Instead, he started reading something off his computer.
“‘Fear not the hunter, for if thou art innocent of spilling the red blood, thou shalt be absolved of all crime. Drink thou of the Blood of Gold and thou shalt live in peace alongside mankind until the end of thy days.’”
Landry looked up, frowning. “What do you know about this?”
“I have read The Testament of Michael ,” Callendar said. “That’s all I know.”
“But what is this ‘blood of gold?’”
“Did you read our report?” Callendar asked, and the director nodded. “Then you know that Terrill and his followers walk in sunlight. Nor did I see them kill any human. I think I believe what the book is saying, sir.”
“‘Fear not the hunter,’” Landry intoned. “I’m not sure we want that to be the message people hear. It’s been decided to take this Terrill and as many of his followers as we can find and bring them under our… protection. We want them alive, if possible.”
“If possible?” Jeffers asked.
“I mean that,” Landry nodded. “That isn’t some code to take them down. We need to find out what this Terrill is about. We need a sample of that blood of gold. So do everything you can to keep at least one of these new-type vampires alive. If possible, Terrill himself. Understood?”
“Yes, sir,” Callendar and Jeffers said.
“We have word that
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