Read Online Vampire Redemption by Phil Tucker - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Phil Tucker
Tags: Vampires
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them stepped up to her window.
The man was young, with skin so pale that Selah could trace the veins beneath his jaw and under his eyes.
"First Sergeant," he said, straightening and saluting her crisply. McKnight returned the salute and he relaxed and unclipped an Omni from his belt. "Quiet drive?"
"Quiet enough," said McKnight, handing over her ID. He took it, slid it through a slot in his Omni, and then scrolled quickly through whatever came up. He nodded and peered in at Selah. "This your cargo?"
"Yep."
The soldier rounded the Humvee. Selah lowered her window. His eyes were surprisingly beautiful, gray irises flecked with darker spots, his eyelashes long. They seemed out of place in his plain, hard face.
"Ma'am," he said, holding up the Omni.
Selah obliged by leaning forward and opening her eyes wide for the retinal scan. There was a slight flash, and then he lowered it and checked the screen. Frowned as he flicked the screen with his finger, scrolling down through her record. She wandered idly what it said. What conjectures, what truths, what lies? He frowned, shot her a quick appraising look, and then nodded and stepped back.
The gate slid back and the crash barrier rose. The soldiers moved aside and the Humvee rolled gently forward, rocking over the speed bumps. The narrow canyon opened up into a natural bowl, and McKnight drove past a series of two-story buildings that were long and low, gray amalgams of bunkers and cheap residential units. It was a small base, a tenth the size of the one in LA. They drove past housing units, then a couple of three-story office buildings, past a number of generic and unremarkable beige hangars by a small concrete expanse on which a half dozen helicopters sat, rotor blades sagging, and then up to a large four-story edifice at the center of it all.
This final building seemed to be the true base, the keep at the center of the castle. There were no windows in its sides and it was surrounded by another fence, this one fifteen feet tall with a dramatic ditch dug around its outside and bales of razor wire settled along the Y-spokes at its top. Within the fence was nothing but smooth dirt right up to the building's walls, and Selah saw that each of the building's corners boasted a gun turret.
McKnight stopped before a second gate and again her ID was scanned, though this time they subjected her to a retinal check. Selah underwent one as well, and then they were waved through once more. McKnight parked the Humvee before the massively reinforced iron doors and leaned back with a sigh.
"All right." McKnight looked over at her. "Ready?"
"Sure," said Selah. "What for?"
The front doors opened and a man in civilian clothing emerged, two soldiers flanking him. "That I don't really know," said McKnight. "Look sharp." The Sergeant opened her door and got out. Selah followed suit.
The air was brisk and cold. A thin, vicious wind cut through the open front of her jacket and made her pull it close. Scrunching her shoulders around her ears, she stepped around the front of the Humvee to join McKnight as the older man approached them. He was in his sixties, tall and lean, and he moved well, as if he exercised frequently or still played a sport. His face was colorless, his hair cut short, but not in the military style, and he wore a faded button-up shirt and corduroy pants the color of loam.
"Sergeant," he said, nodding to McKnight, "And you must be Selah Brown. I'm Lt. Colonel Wigner, director of this facility. Welcome. Word of your arrival has preceded you. I'm eager to see if the rumors are true."
Selah glanced uneasily at McKnight, and then gave a half shrug. "Thanks. Did General Adams talk to you?"
"No." Wigner blinked. "Not directly. Though from what I gather, the decision to send you here has been a contentious one. Still, all's well that end's well, wouldn't you say? Come. Let's get inside where we can talk. Thank you, Sergeant."
That last was a dismissal and Selah felt a knot of worry
The man was young, with skin so pale that Selah could trace the veins beneath his jaw and under his eyes.
"First Sergeant," he said, straightening and saluting her crisply. McKnight returned the salute and he relaxed and unclipped an Omni from his belt. "Quiet drive?"
"Quiet enough," said McKnight, handing over her ID. He took it, slid it through a slot in his Omni, and then scrolled quickly through whatever came up. He nodded and peered in at Selah. "This your cargo?"
"Yep."
The soldier rounded the Humvee. Selah lowered her window. His eyes were surprisingly beautiful, gray irises flecked with darker spots, his eyelashes long. They seemed out of place in his plain, hard face.
"Ma'am," he said, holding up the Omni.
Selah obliged by leaning forward and opening her eyes wide for the retinal scan. There was a slight flash, and then he lowered it and checked the screen. Frowned as he flicked the screen with his finger, scrolling down through her record. She wandered idly what it said. What conjectures, what truths, what lies? He frowned, shot her a quick appraising look, and then nodded and stepped back.
The gate slid back and the crash barrier rose. The soldiers moved aside and the Humvee rolled gently forward, rocking over the speed bumps. The narrow canyon opened up into a natural bowl, and McKnight drove past a series of two-story buildings that were long and low, gray amalgams of bunkers and cheap residential units. It was a small base, a tenth the size of the one in LA. They drove past housing units, then a couple of three-story office buildings, past a number of generic and unremarkable beige hangars by a small concrete expanse on which a half dozen helicopters sat, rotor blades sagging, and then up to a large four-story edifice at the center of it all.
This final building seemed to be the true base, the keep at the center of the castle. There were no windows in its sides and it was surrounded by another fence, this one fifteen feet tall with a dramatic ditch dug around its outside and bales of razor wire settled along the Y-spokes at its top. Within the fence was nothing but smooth dirt right up to the building's walls, and Selah saw that each of the building's corners boasted a gun turret.
McKnight stopped before a second gate and again her ID was scanned, though this time they subjected her to a retinal check. Selah underwent one as well, and then they were waved through once more. McKnight parked the Humvee before the massively reinforced iron doors and leaned back with a sigh.
"All right." McKnight looked over at her. "Ready?"
"Sure," said Selah. "What for?"
The front doors opened and a man in civilian clothing emerged, two soldiers flanking him. "That I don't really know," said McKnight. "Look sharp." The Sergeant opened her door and got out. Selah followed suit.
The air was brisk and cold. A thin, vicious wind cut through the open front of her jacket and made her pull it close. Scrunching her shoulders around her ears, she stepped around the front of the Humvee to join McKnight as the older man approached them. He was in his sixties, tall and lean, and he moved well, as if he exercised frequently or still played a sport. His face was colorless, his hair cut short, but not in the military style, and he wore a faded button-up shirt and corduroy pants the color of loam.
"Sergeant," he said, nodding to McKnight, "And you must be Selah Brown. I'm Lt. Colonel Wigner, director of this facility. Welcome. Word of your arrival has preceded you. I'm eager to see if the rumors are true."
Selah glanced uneasily at McKnight, and then gave a half shrug. "Thanks. Did General Adams talk to you?"
"No." Wigner blinked. "Not directly. Though from what I gather, the decision to send you here has been a contentious one. Still, all's well that end's well, wouldn't you say? Come. Let's get inside where we can talk. Thank you, Sergeant."
That last was a dismissal and Selah felt a knot of worry
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