Welcome to the Fight
(Silent Wars Series #1)
By Glen Romero
Edited by L.S. Burton
Illustrated by Erika Harm (E-mail
[email protected], Website www.erikaharm.com)
Anita B. Carroll Visual Designer (E-mail
[email protected] Website www.race-point.com)
Copyright © 2012 Glen Romero
I would like to dedicate this book to my wife Margaret a.k.a. Peg. She has stood by me through the good times and the bad. Thank you for your support.
Table of Contents
Chapter 1 Welcome to the Fight
Chapter 2 Surprises Around Every Corner
Chapter 3 The Woes of Training
Chapter 4 Power Shift
Chapter 5 A Change in Plan
Chapter 6 A Personal Touch
Chapter 7 The Line is Drawn
Chapter 8 The Battle for Pittsburgh
Welcome to the Fight
Let me introduce myself: my name is Samuel Oscar Smith. The initials made my parents laugh. They chose Samuel because it sounded strong. Ironically, as a child I was anything but. You could actually say my childhood was completely unremarkable. Because I was younger than most kids in my neighborhood I didn’t have any friends; hell I didn’t even have an imaginary friend. In school I was good with math and languages; it was something about the structure that appealed to me. That is why when I graduated high school I could speak three languages and took math classes as electives. It was only natural that when I went to college I chose accounting. It allowed me to work with numbers and not have to deal with people. I mean, who wants to talk to an accountant?
As an intern for a Detroit area accounting firm, my job consisted of running errands, mostly fetching coffee from Polly’s Coffee shop. That day started as so many had with me going for coffee and pastries. The place had the best coffee so it was busy, as usual. I was gazing blankly out the window when a wall of blue caught my eye, five ominous figures advancing down the street. Bandanas pulled low on their foreheads, their overconfident swaggering created a haze of foreboding. Until then I hadn’t realized that that type of crime had infiltrated this part of the city like a plague. As the thought struck me, all hell broke loose as an explosion shattered the calm outside.
It was just like in the movies. I watched as the shop’s front window slowly warped inward and then shattered into a cloud shards and dust. The world caught up when the shock hammered everyone towards the back wall of the coffee shop. My mind hadn’t really cleared when a second blasted knocked a woman on top of me. Desperately, I looked for some place to hide.
The only shelter from the chaos outside was behind the counter. I ran with the sound of gunfire in the street. I only made it a few steps before pain in my leg caused me to fall before reaching the safety of the counter. I looked at my leg and saw that it was bleeding badly. I looked around to see what was going on when I saw it in the window. It was slumped in the frame with half its head missing. It had a shocked look on its face like it couldn’t believe that it was dead. I used the word “it” because it had greenish-gray skin with a large ridge on what was left of its forehead. The movement of the other gang members caught my attention. They were running from the firefight going on outside. I looked at the dead thing in the window as darkness over took me.
I awoke with a start as some paramedics were putting me on a stretcher. They saw that I was awake and started playing twenty questions.
“Are you on any medications?”
“No.”
“Are you allergic to any medication?”
“No.”
“Do you have any medical conditions?”
“No.”
“Do you have any artificial openings?”
“What?”
“On a scale of one to ten, what is your current pain level?”
“Seven.”
I lost track of the questions as they blurred into one another. My inquisitor regained my attention when he said, “You are very lucky to have survived that gas main explosion.” He noted the confusion on my face and said, “Sir, are you all right?” I told him it wasn’t a gas main explosion but a gang fight. He looked at his partner with concern. That was when I first noticed her. I couldn’t tell you how tall she was but her olive colored skin almost sparkled as we sped down the street to the hospital. Her eyes were as big and blue as an ocean. Her hair was long and pulled into a pony tail. I remember thinking it was the light in the ambulance that caused her hair to look light blue. I was lost in her beauty, watching her hand brush a lock of hair from her face, when I noticed her long pointed ear. I shook my head, trying to clear some of the fog away. When I looked again her ear was still long and pointed. I commented about her ear being like one of Santa’s elves.
She quickly covered her ear and said, “He’s going into shock.” The guy then injected something in an IV line they had started....
I woke up in a hospital bed with pain from my injury. I was pale and feeling weak. I barely had time to orientate myself when a man walked in. His skin was so white that he looked dead and he had wicked, long canine teeth. I was trying to reach for the call button to get help, but he gave me this smile that could scare even the bravest of souls and I lost the ability to move. I just laid there thinking this guy was going bite my neck and bleed me dry. When he spoke, I got goose bumps. It took a minute before I realized he was my doctor. I asked him what was going on. He gave a laugh, and said I had been injured in a gas main explosion. Like I had with the paramedics, I told him that it wasn’t a gas main explosion, but a gang fight. I couldn’t read his expression, but I was sure he was trying to figure something out in his head. I paused, wondering if I should tell him about the dead thing in the window or Santa’s helper in the ambulance. He took that as a sign I was done so he fed me some line, “The mind can play tricks on you during times of stress. The images you think you saw could be a sign that you might be suffering from post-traumatic stress syndrome.” I wasn’t sure if he didn’t believe me or if he was hiding something so I left the rest unsaid.
During the shift change from days to nights, I saw my night nurse walk by my doctor and give him a weird look. The doctor came in to see me and told me that if my labs came back clean I would be able to go home in the morning. I could have sworn I saw him lick his lips as he got ready to draw some blood from me. It felt like that was all they did, draw blood. I wasn’t that excited to go home because I lived alone, and I wasn’t sure that my boss even cared enough to notice that I hadn’t come back to work. When the night nurse came in to check on me, I got the courage to try and ask her out. Thinking back, it was probably the pain killers giving me the courage. She had the same olive skin as the paramedic with unnaturally blond hair. I had enough sense to figure that guys hit on her all the time and I tried to think of an opening to make my move. Then it came to me. I asked, “Doesn’t Doctor Stoker look like a vampire? I’m not talking those new age vampires, but the old black and white ones.” She looked at me strangely. My courage started waning as she blinked coldly. Just then a knock on the door got my attention as some guy asked if he could get the trash. I kind of jerked away from him as he got the can by my bed. Not a good idea because it caused my leg to throb in pain. I must have really pissed him off because he started talking in a language I didn’t understand. I could tell by the inflection that it was not good.
Then the nurse asked, “What color is the janitor’s skin?” I thought this was an odd question but I answered, “Grayish green like the gang members at the cafe.” She quickly excused herself and hurried out of the room. I could see her saying something to another nurse and they both looked back at me. I couldn’t tell w
hat they were saying but I knew it was about me.
The rest of the night it was all very clinical with her. In the morning the doctor cleared me to leave. They wheeled me to the hospital entrance where some men dressed in black suits were waiting for me. They were clearly from some government agency which I didn’t know. It felt like I was in one of those dreams were you can’t tell if you are awake or asleep. It was very surreal as they approached me and the hospital orderlies left me there. There was no introduction, just, “Come with us Mr. Smith. We have some questions to ask you.” I tried to tell them that I had to get home so I could change. My pants were destroyed when they did surgery on my leg so the staff had found a pair of sweat pants for me to wear. I tried to tell them I needed to change before I went with them, but they grabbed my arms and guided me to the waiting vehicle. I was trying to get the orderlies’ attention but they just turned and left as soon as the men took me. The windows were blacked out except for the front window. Not that it mattered. I was seated facing away from the window. We drove a long time before they told me, ”We are here.”
I wished I had a pair of their sunglasses because it was a very bright morning. With the sun shining off the glass building I couldn’t see anything as we entered. I was taken to the basement and sat in a small room. The room was just big enough for two people, a desk, and two chairs. There was a door that opened to the outside but they locked it when I entered. The only light came from a flickering florescent light. My surreal dream was quickly becoming a nightmare I couldn’t escape. I would have run if my leg would have allowed that. I couldn’t tell how long I waited for someone to come and tell me this was all just some mix up and they had the wrong guy.
A man entered the room. I started to talk, but he motioned for me to stop. He then placed an old style recorder on the desk and introduced himself as Agent Gentry.
He turned to me and said, “State your name for the Record.”
“Samuel Oscar Smith,” I stated, and tried to say more but I was silenced when he held up a hand.
“Mr. Smith, we have some formalities to complete before questioning begins,” he said coldly. “Do you work for KPMG as an intern?”
“Yes, but ….” I was silenced by the hand again.
“Please, Mr. Smith, yes or no answers only. Did you graduate from Western Michigan University class of 2009?”
“Yes.”
“Have you ever used illegal drugs?”
“No.”
“Have you ever cheated on a test?” My pause caused him to say, “Answer the question Mr. Smith. Have you ever cheated on a test?”
I answered, “No,” trying to think before the next question came.
“Are your parents still living?”
“Yes, they are both still living,” I said quickly.
“Are you currently in a relationship?”
When I said no my voice cracked a little. The questions kept coming with me simply answering yes or no, then stopped so suddenly that I was unbalanced mentally. From a folder in front of Agent Gentry he pulled out a stack of pictures. “Mr. Smith,” he said in the same monotone voice he had been using. “I want you to tell what you see in these pictures.” The pictures all had people of various nationalities. A couple looked weird, like a really hairy Mexican guy with a long face, some guy with pointy ears like the paramedic, and another guy with the forehead ridge and greenish gray skin. Agent Gentry could have done well in a poker tournament because his facial expressions never changed once, even when I described the weird features on some of the people. All he did was put the next picture in front of me without comment. When the last picture was removed, the questions started again.
“Have you ever been involved in a relationship with another race?” The pause got me another warning. “Mr. Smith, the longer it takes you to answer the questions the longer this will take.”
I answered, “No,” thinking it was an odd and personal question.
“Have you ever aided an orc in the commissioning of a crime?”
“What?”
“Have you ever aided an orc in the commissioning of a crime?”
“An orc like from Lord of the Rings?”
“Just yes or no Mr. Smith.”
“NO!” That got the faintest of smiles, barely more than a flicker but it spoke volumes.
Again the questions continued one right after another until my voice went hoarse from answering all the questions. As soon as the questions stopped, the door opened and a bottle of water was delivered. After I took a drink from the bottle, Agent Gentry asked, “Mr. Smith do you have any questions for me?”
With my mind still numb from everything I had been through, I could only think of two questions. So I asked, “Why am I here and who do you work for?”
In his monotone voice he answered, “First, because you are a person of great interest to the government. Second, we don’t exist.” He got up and shook my hand. I could feel a small poke as we shook; I was out almost before my body registered the pinprick.
I’m not ashamed to admit that I was overwhelmed and started crying when I came to. I was scared, alone and in pain. Cut me some slack; a guy is allowed to cry under those conditions.
Someone approached me. He looked like a middle aged man about the size of a five year old child. “Stop crying,” he told me.
Between sobs, I asked, “Why?”
He plainly said, “If you don’t, they are going to come in here and show you how much worse it could get.” He tried to comfort me by saying “It’s only bad for the first couple of days. After that you start to go numb to everything they do to you. If you cooperate they will even take it easy one you.”
I just blinked dumbly at him, trying to figure out what I had done that was so bad. I didn’t steal anything unless you count all the music I downloaded from the Internet. I was a good person most of the time. I even helped people cross the street sometimes. Okay, once. Why wouldn’t anyone tell me what was going on?
The guy trying to comfort me introduced himself as Todd as he extended his hand to me. I gave him my name and shook his hand. The door opened and one of the agents said, “Give him back his watch, Todd.” That’s when I noticed my watch in his hands. I grabbed the watch and put it back on. The guard told us it was time to go. As we entered the hallway he put leg chains on all of us. I started to ask him where we were going; that’s when he grabbed my head, slammed it into the wall, and told me to shut up. He took a step back and said, “That is your only warning.” If that was his idea of a warning, I sure didn’t want to make him mad; so I just did what he said.
We were marched to a small bus in an underground parking lot and secured in our seats for OUR own good. I was really beginning to hate this guy as he shoved me again. The pain in my leg was agonizing and his pushing me only made it worse. The bus left the garage and started down the road. I wasn’t familiar with the part of town. The bus turned to get on the I-75 freeway entrance when a large truck hit us where the driver sat. The blow knocked us around and I ducked when I heard shots being fired into the bus. The back door ripped open, framing two people with guns yelling for everyone to stay still. I heard someone muttering something and my restraints opened. Todd grabbed my arm saying, “Follow me if you want to live to see tomorrow.”
The people with the guns at the emergency exit told everyone to get into the van. From start to finish, the whole escape took less than a minute. I had a feeling that without me there it would have gone quicker. When everyone was in the van, we sped away. I heard some more muttering. As I looked around I found the source. It was an older woman. She was staring into space repeating the same phrase over and over until I saw a pulse of energy radiate out from her. I don’t know what happened but when I looked back at her she said, “Welcome to the fight. I hope you survive long enough to make a difference.”
I looked at Todd and asked him what in the Sam hell was going on. He looked at me and asked how long I’d been awake.
“Since aroun
d seven this morning, why do you ask?”
He laughed and told the woman that was muttering, “We have a newbie, Tammy.”
Looking back at me Todd asked, “Have you been through anything traumatic recently?”
I relayed the story of the gang fight outside the café with all the explosions and gunfire and how I got injured. I even told him about the creepy doctor in the hospital always taking blood from me. The driver made a sharp turn off whatever road we were on and pulled into a parking lot. He turned back at me and said, “Check them or I start killing them because I don’t work with vampires.”
I stuttered out, “Vampire ….” when he pulled a gun and pointed it at me.
Tammy looked at me and said, “Relax and don’t squirm too much because Nish has an itchy trigger finger.” I had no idea when people forgot that they get better results by asking than through intimidation. Tammy started to mutter; I could understand the meaning of her words slightly. She was muttering about finding something. I didn’t understand it. I just knew it. Then her eyes glowed blue, as did her hands. She moved her hands over me and when she got to my head the glowing got brighter. Nish started freaking out about the best way to get rid of my remains.
Thankfully Todd said, “It isn’t him triggering the spell. It’s this guy.” Todd pointed his finger at another escapee from the bus.
When Tammy moved her hand to him he started to back up. Nish pointed the gun at him, pulled the trigger, and shot him in the chest. The guy’s scream was hellish as his body contorted in pain. Tammy grabbed some sort of wipe and washed his face before pushing him out the back of the van. His face burst into flames and turned to ash before Nish floored it and got back on the road. I could hear him cursing under his breath, “Freaking vampires, I hate freaking vampires.”
By this time I was in full panic about what just happened. Todd was laughing as I plastered myself against the van wall and started screaming for them to tell me what was going on. Tammy gave Todd a look only a woman can. That just barely controlled his laughter. Tammy told me that for thousands of years, most humans have been oblivious to the truth right in front of their faces. The enlightened call them the sleeping. Sometimes they are awaked by traumatic events like the one I experienced. Those that are awakened usually go insane, trying in vain to make sense of this new world they find themselves in.
Not all humans are oblivious; some are enlightened at birth. All creatures that are born enlightened can sense if someone is enlightened or not. This is not true with those who are awakened. You can never tell if they see you or are just sleeping through life. That is why awakened are feared and sought after. They make the perfect spies because they can get to places others can’t. Tammy looked me dead in the eyes and said, “You were on your way to a training camp where they would either kill you or you would become an agent for the vampires.”
I was still hoping that someone was going to point at a camera and say something like, “Smile, you’re on candid camera.” I looked at everyone in the van and said, “How can they get away with this? The government would stop them.” This time even Tammy laughed at me. I was tired of being the butt end of their humor and yelled at them to stop laughing.
Todd walked up next to me and clapped his hand on my shoulder. “Thank you for that I haven’t laughed this hard since….” He went quiet and walked away.
Tammy watched him and told me, “He lost his brother recently. They were always joking and having a good time. You see the government is a puppet put in place by the enlightened to keep the mass of humans sleeping. The America you knew and loved before the gang fight was actually ruled by a council of vampires. Each of the great vampire houses has a seat on the council. They allow the puppet government to think they were in charge.” I asked if the guy pushed out the back was a vampire. Tammy answered with, “Yes, he was a vampire. They are sensitive to sunlight like in the movies but they don’t burst into flames like that unless they are given some help.” My confusion spoke volumes of my ignorance. Tammy said, “Most of what you know about vampires is all fantasy made up to help pacify the sleeping, like dragons. Though George Romero did get how to kill a zombie right.” She made a shooting motion towards her head with her hand as she said that last part. I could only imagine brain matter and other gore coming other the other side of her head.
In a moment of somberness, she told me that I couldn’t ever go back to my family. The vampires would be waiting for me. For me to try and contact my loved ones would be to put their lives in danger. The vampires were very strict in their treatment of the awakened. First, detain and recruit them. If that fails, destroy their support base, i.e. kill everyone that has contact with them. It’s the simplicity that makes their plans both effective and easy to avoid. So I was left with two options, go see my family and friends and they would be killed for assisting me, or never see them again and leave them wondering what happened to me. I felt like I’d just been kicked in the nuts. I could no longer talk to my family or see my friends again without fear of getting them killed.
Tammy scooted closer, “You can come with us. I don’t have it in me to leave a puppy like you to defend yourself against the vampires.”
Nish overheard this and grunted out, “Great, that’s all we need, another bleeding heart case.”
Tammy said, “Just ignore him. I’ll work things out when we get to the base camp.”
She put her hand on my leg and I noticed that I had started bleeding from my injury. She started to mutter again and placed her glowing hands over my leg. It was a very creeping feeling, like a bunch of bony fingers stitching my leg back together. She looked visibly drained after that. I started to thank her but she put up her hand to stop me.
A minute later she said, “You will have a scar from your injury, but the leg is fully repaired.”
Not believing her, I pulled up the leg of my sweat pants and sure enough the injury was closed and there was a scar from the injury and the surgery. She added, “My magic for healing doesn’t regenerate the damaged tissue. It rapidly heals the damage, reducing recovery time from days and weeks to seconds. That is why it leaves a scar. Yours was a small wound so it didn’t take very long to repair. “
I slumped against a wall in the van and stared, hoping that my family was going to be alright.
I thought, What a strange new world I find myself in now.
Surprises Around Every Corner
Department of Parks and Recreation Section 7, Detroit office, sublevel 2. Several people in a conference room are wondering if they will survive the day.
Francis took off his glasses and rubbed eyes. “Let me get this straight, your team of guards was subdued and our agent was compromised. Have I missed anything?”
Without thinking, one of the men said, “There was a newly awakened with the escapees.”
Francis shouted, “What! You morons lost an awakened to a group of misfit malcontents?” The room went silent for a moment. The others in the room were afraid to make a sound. “Is the tracking spell working?”
Nigel, a human who looked twenty years more than his forty years, said, “They seem to have either masked the spell or neutralized it.”
Francis threw his glasses across the room. The group startled and looked at him. This had the effect he wanted. “If I don’t have an answer in twenty-four hours, someone’s head is going to roll.” Making his point Francis left the room.
When Nigel thought it was safe he turned to Timothy and glared. “You idiot! Why did you tell him about the awakened? I’m not going to die for you. If you don’t get me some good news by day’s end I’ll kill you myself. The rest of you get some leads because mine is not the only head on the chopping block.”
The room emptied quickly; no one wanted to find themselves on the wrong side of the situation.