Is that frost on your glasses, or are you…
They were dressed all in black and looked the part of your typical club member, but there was something wrong with their bearing. It was too stiff, too uncomfortable. Like a little boy dressed up in dad’s old suit. If their dad was a mortician from the 1920s. In a horror movie. With a really bad make-up artist. My hopes that these were just too club member nipping down here for a quick sip of the main man’s private stash plummeted. They were up to something, and I was afraid I knew what it was.
The two men stopped in front of the shelf that had, just moments before, held my blood. I cringed as I realized that the blood I’d set there wasn’t frozen like mine had been – it’s okay to freeze blood to drink later, but not to use in people. I’d thought there’d be time for the new blood to freeze before anyone noticed the switch, but apparently not. I had to work on my contingency plans. Wasn’t that whole ‘expect the unexpected’ thing something they had taught me? Or tried to teach me. I swore to myself right then that if I got out of this, I would be sure to have some contingency plans. You never know when, say, a giant talking hippo will wander in and demand a tutu and blow your cover. Or you could, at any moment, be squirted with ink from a giant squid. It could happen. Or maybe the stress and the cold was going to my brain. I suppressed a manic giggle and turned my attention back to the immediate threat – those two very out-of-place men.
“This is where it’s supposed to be,” the taller one said, gesturing carelessly at the shelf with one hand while still reading a message on the phone in his other hand.
“Is this it?” The shorter one held up a bag next to my stack, a still-frozen one. He looked bored, and a little amused at the high-handed attitude of his friend.
“No, next stack over.” The tall one stared down at the tiny screen on his mobile phone, pretty much ignoring the guy who was now grabbing the bags of donor blood and shoving them in a messenger bag. He looked like he could care less about the job, which was good for me. “Got it?” The tall one looked up from his phone long enough to see him nod, then went back to typing on the tiny keyboard.
Suddenly, the shorter one looked over to where I was crouched behind the boxes. He froze for a second, his eyes finding mine in the small gap of cardboard. I cursed and tried to pull myself further back into the corner. He frowned, and looked suspiciously at the bag that held the much-too-warm blood. He’d noticed, but he hadn’t really cared. I’m sure there’s a business lesson in there somewhere, about not ignoring your subordinates because they might be smart than you think. He took one more look at my corner, then said rather loudly, “Hey, John, you never did tell me what this is all about…”
John stopped typing and snapped the phone shut. “Need to know basis, Robert.” He put emphasis on the name, as if it were an insult. “And you don’t need to know.” He turned and started walking out of the cooler, and Robert trailed after him, grinning. He turned back to where I was crouched and winked at me.
“Yeah, it just seems wrong to steal a dead girl’s blood. I mean, what’s the point? Is this part of that ‘leave no agent behind’ code, since she’s dead and it doesn’t matter about the good will of the coven or whatever this is?” He cast one last look back where I was hiding as they turned the corner. I crept after them, staying out of sight but in earshot. He was good, giving me a lot of information in the guise of idle conversation. The question is, as it always is, why? Who was he and what was his game plan?
“No.” John’s reply was curt and his tone clearly said ‘drop it.’ Robert did not. He seemed to have a bit of a problem with authority, and I could relate. John seemed like a pompous ass, anyway.
“No it’s not about some agency code? Or no, there’s no agency code? I’d really like to think there is, that even if I die, everything would be taken care of. Loose ends tied up and all. It’s nice to feel like part of a family, you know?” I could hear the sarcasm in that last statement. There was definitely bad blood between these two, so why were they still working together?
“Oh, yes, we’re all so cozy and loving.” Ouch. I hadn’t thought it could get any chillier in here. “No, get a move on. We need to get that blood back to the lab for analysis.”
“I suppose asking what we’re analyzing it for would be wasting my breath,” Robert replied cheerfully. The man was enjoying baiting John. I can’t say I didn’t think John deserved it, but I don’t think I’d have been brave enough to dish it out. John had a look about him I’d seen in photos of serial killers and sociopaths. Cold, emotionless, and completely devoid of humanity. A spy that had perhaps been at the game too long, been asked to do too many gruesome things, and had lost himself along the way. Or maybe he’s been born a sociopath, and had naturally gravitated to a career that could put his talents to good use. Either way, not a man I’d press. But maybe Robert knew him well enough to know how far he could push, or maybe he was completely clueless, or maybe he had a death wish.
They slipped out the freezer door, and I crept up to it, waiting in the freezer until they had time to get out of the lab and up the stairs. As I stood there, turning over all the events and questions jumbled up in my head, I looked at the door closely. Written in the frost was a four-digit number. It was fresh, and just starting to re-frost over. I pulled out a small pad of paper and jotted it down, then ran my hand over the writing, obscuring the number. I had a pretty good idea what it was, but testing that theory would have to wait. In fact, this may have put my whole plan in jeopardy. I might have to re-think my strategy. This was getting more and more complex, and more and more people were getting involved. This was no longer some crazy scheme by one lone spy to… do whatever it was Jason had planned on doing.
I slipped out of the freezer, trying to massage some feeling back into my limbs. Thankfully, the freezer didn’t have an outside lock, and I hadn’t gotten locked in – one of my worst fears, which is odd, since how often do you have reason to be in a giant walk-in freezer? Still, I was a bit wobbly from the whole experience, and it took me two tries to clamber up the stairs in my huge clunky boots. I’d be happy to get home and get changed, maybe soak in a nice warm tub for a week or so. And maybe by then all of my problems – being dead and yet still hunted top on the list – would just magically disappear.
When I got to the top of the stairs, I slipped past Isaiah and his crowd of fawning women without being noticed. I looked around for John and Robert, but it appeared they’d already made their escape. All I had to do was thread my way through the crowd and get out the front door. Easy as… yeah, of course it wasn’t.
I was a mere twenty feet from the door when somehow, someone noticed the bag I was carrying. And correctly guessed what was in it. Thinking back, perhaps an insulated bag would have gone a long way to prevent what happened next, since I think the cold was a big tip-off. Either that, or they really were vampires and could smell the blood. I think I’m sticking with the cold theory. At any rate, a tall, thin, pale man pointed a boney finger at me and shrieked “Thief!”
He tried to grab the bag away from me, but I held on and lashed out at him with a heavy boot. It connected solidly with his thigh, sending him sprawling backwards. Right into a tall, gaudy candelabra. Which tipped over. And caught the closest drapery on fire. Suddenly, everyone was screaming and running, and the air was quickly choked with smoke. I stumbled through the descending darkness towards the exit, feeling my way as much as seeing it. People swarmed and shoved around me, and it took all of my concentration and willpower to stay on my feet and move with the crowd. To go down would mean being trampled to death.
Luckily, I’d been close enough to the front entrance that I made it, and breathed in gulps of cool night air. All around me people were still screaming, and I turned to see people streaming out of several exits of the now-engulfed building. Isaiah had never seen the need to lock or board up any of the exits, and it saved everyone’s life that night. As far as I know, at least as far as the news reports said, no one died in the blaze, but the building was a complete loss. Firefighters arrived quickly, but did little other than contain the blaze, keeping it from spreading to other buildings. I slunk off into the night, like most of the others, refusing to be seen by the medical personnel on-site. I needed to get home and work out what these latest developments meant for me and my grand plan.
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