Return of the Phoenix - 01 (19 page)

“Very true.”

“Didn’t sweeten her disposition any, though, did it?” he muttered.

“Mother wasn’t always so bitter.” Nadia said. “It wasn’t until we were gifted to Rufus from the pack that she…changed.” Nadia turned toward the open door to hear if anybody was within earshot. “The pack has its own hierarchy, and our family was very well respected, very high within the ranks.”

“Okay. Go on,” Jack urged her, hoping to gain some unde
rstanding to her mother’s behavior.

“When our old pack master left and the challenge was laid out for the new pack leaders to lay claim to the head of the pack, my father was away. He was the strongest and was expected to take the reins of leadership. It was his right and he was the heir. The full moon was upon them before he could return and the rules of the pack are clear. A claim to leadership must be made and those who stake their claim must fight for the role of pack master on the eve of the full moon.” Her face was so full of sa
dness that Jack’s heart broke for her. “Three laid claim and the victor who became the new leader of our pack had borne a grudge against my father for many, many years. He also knew that my father would most likely kill him to take back the pack…so, he banished my family, more or less.”

“How can he banish you if you were part of the pack?” Jack asked. “It doesn’t make sense. What little I know of werewolves tells me that they protect the pack no matter what.”

“Usually, this is true, but sometimes, politics come into play,” Nadia explained. “The new pack master was acting as a surrogate for a female wolf…a blood-thirsty and ruthless woman who would stop at nothing to continue ruling the pack, even through a surrogate. She knew that father would take his rightful place and things would change, so she engineered the takeover very carefully.” Nadia turned her face to hide her eyes from him. “It nearly destroyed my father.”

“Why didn’t your father challenge the new pack master when he returned?”

Nadia sighed and shook her head. “The wheels had been set into motion before his return. For many years, we had a blood covenant with Rufus. We were
familia
with the vampire coven. The new pack master used the security clause to banish us, to bond us forever to Rufus.”

“What if Rufus wanted to set your family free?” Jack asked. “Could your father then challenge the pack master?”

“It would break the covenant,” she whispered. “Neither my father nor Rufus would allow the disgrace of breaking the blood covenant.”

“Where is your father now?”

“He is doing business for Rufus on the mainland, but he will return soon. The moon will force him to return.”

“All of you lock yourself in the dungeon?”

“It’s not really a dungeon,” she said. “It’s really more of a basement. But this is a castle and dungeon sounds more appropriate considering its use every month.”

“Still, it doesn’t sound very fun.”

“The entire experience isn’t much fun.”

Jack pondered a moment then asked her, “How many wolves are here on the island?”

“Twelve. Most are my family, including aunts, uncles, cousins…but there are a few who were already here as a security detail. They’re true security.”

“And all of you lock yourself in the basement for that one night?”

“Yes. It’s the one night that Rufus is truly vulnerable.”

“But it’s at night, so, he’s not really vulnerable, right? I mean, he really only needs the security during the daylight hours.” Nadia nodded. “How many vampires does Rufus have here with him?”

Nadia gave Jack a puzzling stare. “Are you milking me for information? Assessing the strengths of the castle, soldier?” she said playfully.

Jack laughed. “No. Not really. I’m just curious. You don’t have to tell me. I was just wondering…”

“There are a little over two dozen vampires here, but most are women.”

“Oh, that’s right. More women to increase the chances of having kids…”

Nadia laughed again. “Perhaps if Rufus were a natural born vampire. He was created, just as you were. “But he was sort of… ‘adopted’ into a natural born family. He is considered an heir, but he’ll never truly be accepted as a natural born. Nor will he ever bear fruit.”

“Oh yeah,” Jack said. “I remember now him telling me how he got made.” Jack pointed at his head. “Not the brightest bulb and all that.”

“Rufus will forever be in a young man’s body, with a young man’s appetites. He prefers to surround himself with female lovers,” she said. “But enough speak of other people’s lovers. Come. Let us get you fed and get your strength up.”

“Get my strength up?”

“You
did
intend to mate with me, yes?” she said with a sly smile. “You will need your strength.”

*****

The squads were in the common room listening to the cleanup crews give their spiel. For all intents and purpose, the initial training for the new members was complete, but there were still a few procedural processes that they needed to be aware of. For the veterans of the group, this was old news. Apollo and Spanky sat and drew doodles on their notepads. Donnie did his best to stay awake, but was failing miserably. Drool was threatening to escape the corner of his mouth. Hammer sat ramrod straight, eyes wide open, staring straight ahead. Dom and Popo debated that he slept with his eyes open. Finally, Dom reached over and waved a hand in front of his face and when he failed to respond, they both snickered and debated ways to screw with him. Meanwhile, the cleanup crews droned on with their procedures and the new members gave them the courtesy of trying to appear to listen, albeit with glazed looks on their faces.

After approximately thirty minutes of their monotonous droning, Tracy muttered to Lamb, “Do we really have to listen to this crap?” Lamb shrugged and yawned. Before the yawn was completed, both found themselves falling to the floor in a tu
mble, their chairs having been pulled from under them.

Hank Michaels stood behind them, holding the legs to their chairs in his hands, his face twisted in disgust. He dropped the chairs and walked to the front of the room.

“What the fuck is your problem, man?” Gus asked, getting up from the floor.

“No shit, dude. Uncool, brother…” Lamb began.

“I’ve watched you newbies blow off just about everything that didn’t involve shooting or blowing something up,” Hank said through gritted teeth.

“Padre…” Apollo began.

“Don’t!” Hank warned. “This needs to be said.” Hank turned toward the cleanup crews with a wave of his hand. “These guys do ten times the work we
ever
do and never get one single ‘thank you’ or an iota of recognition. They are the ones who
truly
keep the people safe once we eliminate the threat. But you wouldn’t know that because you haven’t heard a word they’ve said, would you? Do any of you even have a clue what they actually do?” he asked.

The new squad members all looked at each other and gave shrugs or shook their heads. A few muttered to the negative.

“They’ve been addressing you for the past half hour trying to give you the details of their job in order to drill home the importance of
how
you do your job in order to keep people safe, and you’re all falling asleep or worse, totally ignoring them.” Hank stared them down. “You should all be ashamed of yourself.”

Hank turned and stalked away muttering to himself. Sanchez could have sworn she heard him say something about ‘romper room’ and ‘fucking toddlers’. “What’s got up his ass?” she asked.

Apollo leaned in toward her and the others, “I’ll fill you in later. For now, let’s let these guys finish up.”

The cleanup crew guys milled about for a few moments, u
nsure how to carry on. One glanced at his watch and then at the crowd of operators. “Umm, we’re about out of time. I, uh…well. Here it is in a nutshell. You guys are the rock stars, okay? You get to go out and blow shit up, right? You go in the field and kill the bad guys, okay? Well, we’re the poor bastards who have to go in behind you in the bio-suits and clean up after you.” He nudged one of the fellows next to him who held up one of the bulky suits with the re-breather attached. “These things are hot, heavy, bulky and just generally a pain in the ass to work in, especially in hot weather. But we do the stuff that has to be done.” Another cleanup crew held up some of the tools of the trade, shovels, industrial drum liners and with his foot pushed a wheeled vacuum in front of them. “When you guys splatter a monster, we have to make sure there are
no
biologicals left behind.”

The tech stepped forward and used his hands to emphasize his point. “Imagine vampire blood left behind where a child might accidentally be exposed? Or you splatter a zombie and the body fluids get into somebody’s well? Depending on the type of zombie, an entire family, or even a group of families could be exposed, spreading the disease exponentially.” Slowly the new squad members began to pay attention. “That’s why you train to take the head shot with the zombie infestation. Yes…it is the only way to truly stop one, but you could also throw one into a wood chipper. It’s just a whole lot messier. And the chance of spreading the disease increases a thousand fold. A field mouse gets hold of a tiny piece of tissue and
voila
! New infection, and a short time later, we start all over…just with a new vector.”

The tech looked at his watch again. His time was up. He sighed. Somehow he felt he failed to drive the point home. “The point is, boys and girls, don’t make a mess if you don’t have to. Don’t use a canon to swat the mosquito, okay? The less mess you make means the easier our job is and the less time we have to be exposed to the rest of the world who always asks, ‘why are there spacemen washing the Johnson’s house out?’  It’s a than
kless job, but it has to be done.” With that he stepped back and simply said, “Thank you for your time.” The cleanup crews began re-crating their gear for mobilization.

The squad members were about to break up when Sanchez cornered Apollo. “Nice speech there, but what gives with Michaels? What was his little outburst about? I mean, the guy hardly says two words the whole time we train with him, then BAM! He goes off on us for nothing.” The other new members had gathered around her. They, too, were curious what his pro
blem was.

Apollo sighed. “Yeah, I told you I’d fill you in.” He scratched at his jaw and contemplated how best to breach anot
her man’s story. “You all know the rest of our history pretty much…I mean, what there is to know. But, the Padre? He’s sort of tough to describe. I really wish it were him telling y’all this, ‘cuz it’s his story, ya know? But, he ain’t opening up, so…I guess it’s really up to me.

“He used to be this total operator with the Jarheads. Volu
nteered for all these suicide missions, but always came back. He was the best of the best. Used to train operators, too. They said that you could drop his ass in the Antarctic in his skivvies with nothing but a compass and a pocket knife and two weeks later you’d find out he overthrew the dictator of some backwater shithole third world country, and he’d be sitting on the beach drinking a mojito. If you looked in the dictionary under the word ‘badass’ his picture was right next to it.”

“Okay, we gotcha. He was the real deal,” Jacobs said, wa
ving his hand on for Apollo to continue. “So what happened to him?”

“That’s just it, bro. Nobody knows. One day he’s voluntee
ring to jump in the muck, he’s trained himself to be one of the world’s foremost knife and sword fighters, he’s like a one-man army…then he just comes back from a mission and tells his CO that he’s done. He can’t do it anymore. He wants to ‘conscientious objector’ out.”

“What?!” Tracy exclaimed. “Nobody goes from badass to pussy in a heartbeat.”

“Nobody said he was a pussy.” Apollo shot Gus a stern look. “Something happened. I dunno what. Maybe one too many innocents on his last mission? Too much collateral damage? Who the fuck knows? But that’s what I’m told.

“Anyway, his CO didn’t know what to do with him. He still had about sixteen months left on his last hitch, so they did the only thing they knew
to
do with him. They assigned him to the God Squad. He worked with a Catholic priest and a Lutheran minister for the last of his hitch and…I dunno, I guess it stuck, ‘cuz when he got out, he left and never looked back.

“Word was, he put on a robe, slapped on some sandals and a cross and went to some little border town in like Arizona or New Mexico or some shit and found an abandoned church. He just moved in and started rebuilding it with what little money he had. The locals started coming to his church, and word is he started an orphanage. Anyway, here’s where shit gets real.

“One night about four years ago, a pack of baby vamps hit this small town of his and they slaughter
everybody
. The Padre didn’t know that they even existed, but he knew that this gang was killing his people and he went nuts. Said that ‘God spoke to him.’  Told him to ‘Protect my flock.’ And Hank went off on the vamps. He had no weapons, but he pulled a wooden cross from the graveyard and went Mickey Mantle on them. One survivor actually said that the Padre there literally ripped the arm off of one of the vamps and
beat him to death
with it!”