Fall of the Mortals (Book 1) (23 page)

“Climb admiral, climb!” hollered Hansen.

The water came over the deck. Stanton climbed the ladder up the sail keeping his eye on Kristof who floated nearby watching him like a hungry tiger inside a steel cage. He climbed into the sail and closed it just as the sub submerged.

CHAPTER ELEVEN
Shaun’s exile

It was late in the afternoon at the tower. Shaun sat in a dark office by himself thinking about the changes he had experienced recently. He was wrapped in a blanket and reclined in an office chair that was well-cushioned. There were candles set on top of the desk. It was all the light he wanted for his session of deep thought. He watched the small flames burn, waiting for the sun to go down. As long as it was daylight, he felt weak, withdrawn and irritable. He developed a love for the dark because it was where he could be empowered and moved by his new capabilities.

He pulled the curtains back and lifted the blinds. The last shine of daylight came in and blinded him.

“Ah!” he hollered, putting the curtains back and falling to the floor. His eyes stung. He rubbed them repeatedly as if he could make the sting go away. It frightened him to be so vulnerable to the daylight. He worried the others would find out about him.
What am I going to do? Any day now Harold and the others will know what I’ve become. I can’t go to the vampire world but I’m losing my place here
, he thought.

Harold came in the room and noticed Shaun on the floor.

“Shaun?” asked Harold sounding concerned. “What are you doing on the floor?”

“Regrouping my thoughts,” Shaun responded, gasping and sitting back down in the office chair.

“What in the blazes have you been doing in here? What’s with the candles?” asked Harold as if he just witnessed a different side of Shaun.

“Let me ask you question,” said Shaun, wiping some sweat from his forehead and the sides of his face. He intentionally changed the subject.

“Why are you sweating, Shaun?” Harold responded, noticing he looked pale in the face and sickly. “Are you feeling well? You don’t look well.”

“I’m fine,” answered Shaun.

***

On level seventy-nine, Chris looked into the room where Terry, Curtis and the others were sacked out on the floor in their living area. They were all napping. Billy and Shane were high and zoned out on the floor. He looked down and noticed a duffle bag that belonged to Terry. Chris pulled the bag into another room down the hallway. He went through the bag and found some girly magazines. He let out a brief chuckle and set the magazines aside. He looked further into the bag and found a loaded forty-five caliber pistol in a holster with a snap down leather strap.

“Whoa,” said Chris in a soft whisper, taking the pistol out of the holster, aiming it and pretending to fire a shot. “Sweet.”

Chris continued his scavenger search through the duffle bag. He found a black leather wallet with some dried blood droplets on it. He opened it and noticed the Nevada State driver license said Rick Mason. He found an employee ID card that said Stratosphere Casino Hotel.

“Rick Mason?” Chris mumbled in a whisper. “What the hell? Why would Terry have his wallet?”

Chris put the wallet in his back pocket, looking down the hallway to see if anyone was coming. The coast was clear. He hurriedly looked through the rest of the duffle bag. He found some round, colorful pills wrapped in plastic. His attention was drawn immediately to the pills because of the design on them. Some had the Calvin Klein logo. Others had the faces of cartoon characters. Some had the logo of Mercedes-Benz.

“Ecstasy,” he whispered with a smile. “Awesome.”

***

“What did you want to ask me?” asked Harold adjusting himself in the chair.

“Do you think it’s possible to co-exist?” asked Shaun, fearing the truth.

“With who?” asked Harold.

“With
them
,” Shaun responded.

Harold didn’t respond but stared at him. He noticed Shaun staring at him with a serious expression. It was as if Shaun had been thinking about it for a while.

“You know that’s impossible, Shaun,” Harold responded. “They’re monsters. You saw what they did to Jones and to Trent. You know what they did to the rest of the people out there. They wouldn’t hesitate to do the same to you and me.”

Shaun looked down, not knowing what to say next. Harold’s troubling words of truth bothered him. Shaun knew where the lines were drawn. It was disturbing to know where it was all heading. The day would come that he would lose all consciousness and completely change into a vampire. He looked at Harold who sat in the chair shuffling through some poker cards. It was one of Harold’s favorite pastimes. Shaun began to sob inside knowing that his relationship with those of the tower family was going to come to an end. He just didn’t know when.

The afternoon daylight dimmed outside the window. Night was approaching. A feeling of strength returned to Shaun. He was beginning to feel strong and well. The feelings of paleness and nausea left him; the color returned to his face. He inhaled deeply placing his hands on his face.

“Shaun? Are you okay?” asked Harold with a curious expression.

“Never better,” Shaun answered exhaling and putting his hands down. He made a starry eyed grin.

“Your face. It looks better,” said Harold, appearing confused as if he was amazed at Shaun’s immediate recovery.

Suddenly, Tommy came into the office.

“Harold! Shaun! Come quick!” he hollered.

“What is it, Tommy?” Harold responded, startled at his abrupt entrance.

“It’s Chris! Something is wrong with him!” Tommy cried.

Shaun and Harold leaped out of their chairs and rushed to another room on level seventy-two. They found Chris lying on the floor squirming from his left side to the right. He appeared disoriented and incoherent. He was sweating profusely, breathing heavy and making small moaning sounds. His eyes were large and he looked in all directions. He moved his hands all over as if he were hallucinating. The baggy of ecstasy pills lay beside him. There were only a couple left.

Shaun and Harold rushed to the floor next to him, frantically, to help him. Shaun checked his heart rate.

“Chris! Can you hear me?” hollered Harold. “Chris?” he said again, smacking him in the face gently.

Chris didn’t respond but lay there moving his hands as if he were in another world.

“He’s burning up,” said Harold, feeling his forehead with his hand.

“His heart rate is near two hundred beats per minute,” said Shaun in a stern tone finding the baggy and looking closely at the pills that were left. “Ecstasy. He’s stoned out of his mind.”

“Stoned?” asked Harold, filling with anger by the second knowing Terry had something to do with it.

“There’s no question where it came from either,” Shaun responded taking a glass pipe from Chris’ shorts pocket implying Terry. “Hurry! Let’s get him to the kitchen!”

Shaun and Harold carried Chris across the long, open area of the floor. It seemed like a mile to the kitchen. Chris’ physical condition didn’t change while they rushed him into the kitchen. They plopped him on the dining table knocking the salt and pepper shakers and a napkin holder to the floor.

“Water! I need water!” hollered Shaun keeping his hands on Chris’s face, trying to get him to look directly in his eyes. “We need to get his body temperature back to normal before he ends up with brain damage.”

Chris’ eyes were still all over the place.

“Where does she keep the damn things?” Harold blared opening one kitchen cupboard after another in a hurry trying to find a pitcher.

“Chris? Can you hear me?” asked Shaun in a loud voice still holding his face in his hands. “Chris! Answer me!”

Chris was still non-responsive.

“I got it!” said Harold filling a pitcher of water from the tap.

“Hurry!” hollered Shaun.

Harold rushed over and poured the water all over Chris to cool him down. The water went on his face, chest and legs as well as all over the table. Water dripped off the edge of the table. Chris’ eyes blinked repeatedly but he was still disoriented.

“More!” said Shaun.

Harold filled another pitcher and poured it all over Chris.

“What the hell is going on?” Betty shouted, rushing in the room with a frightened look on her face.

“Chris overdosed!” Harold responded rubbing Chris’ forehead and his cheeks, trying to comfort him.

“What!” Betty shouted.

“C’mon Chris. Talk to us!” Harold cried.

Chris’ eyes continued to blink repeatedly. He finally looked at Harold with a terrified look on his face.

“I think he’s coming back! Let’s get him to the living room!” said Shaun.

They carried Chris out of the kitchen.

“Bring him here!” said Betty, sitting down on a sofa.

They placed Chris into her arms. She held him like a baby and rocked him. Betty’s eyes began to water. Chris quivered in her arms breathing heavily. He didn’t speak but had a scared look in his eyes as if he’d seen a ghost.

“Get me a sheet to keep the chills off him!” hollered Betty.

Harold brought her one. Shaun noticed a black wallet sticking out of Chris’ back pocket. He took it from him and opened it, curious because of the dried blood droplets on the outside of it.

“You tell me right now what the hell happened here?” Betty asked sternly as if she knew someone was responsible. Her face burned with anger as if someone poisoned one of her own children.

“We’re going to see about it right now,” Harold responded, trying not to be infuriated.

“I think we have another problem,” said Shaun showing Harold the driver license of Rick Mason.

“Rick Mason?” asked Harold looking at the ID of Mason closely. “Stratosphere Casino?”

“I think they robbed them and wiped them out,” said Shaun.

Harold looked back at Shaun with a bad feeling that Terry and his guys were involved in a murder. The suspicion that they were involved with Rick’s death was distressing.

“Get Thai, Yuri and Trang and meet me at the gun closet,” said Harold as if he was ready to hurt someone badly.

“I’m on it,” Shaun replied, hurrying out of the room.

Shaun felt good being the star child again. He was helping the tower family like before and now an opportunity was presenting itself to get Terry and his lousy crew of misfits gone forever. Shaun thought over Terry and his crew being banished into the city infested with vampires but he was at a point where he thought,
Screw em. They made their bed, now they can sleep in it. Nobody screws with our tower family. Nobody.

***

On level seventy-one, Terry and Curtis got up from their sacked out places on the sofa. They felt good waking up from their power nap brought on by methamphetamines. They felt empowered by the false sense of confidence it created for them. Terry walked to a table and cracked open a beer.

Suddenly, Shaun kicked the double doors to Terry’s living room wide open. He led Harold, Yuri, Thai and Trang into their space. They each carried a firearm at their sides. Shaun looked like the sheriff barging into a saloon full of drunken idiots with his pack of deputies. Their faces were stern and they were ready to kick ass if they had to.

“You could’ve knocked,” said Terry nonchalantly as if Shaun was putting on a big show for nothing.

Shaun didn’t answer but walked up to Terry. Harold and the other men held their guns at their sides keeping a hard face on the rest of the bikers not saying a word. They were ready for any of them to make a move. Curtis and the other bikers were alarmed sitting up from their stoned, sacked-out places on the floor.

“What the hell, Shaun?” asked Terry.

“Guess where Chris is?” asked Shaun, his voice firm as if he were ready to drop Terry at any second.

Terry glanced at Curtis but didn’t say anything.

“What?” asked Terry.

“I think you know,” Shaun responded.

 “Did he steal my girly magazine?” asked Terry, just to be snide.

“He had an overdose, you jack ass!” Shaun responded throwing the glass pipe at Terry with his left hand, becoming angrier by the second.

The pipe bounced off Terry’s chest, fell to the floor and shattered. Terry didn’t respond.

“And while we’re being open and honest, why don’t you explain this too?” asked Shaun throwing Rick’s wallet at him.

The wallet fell to the floor in the open position. Terry looked down at Rick Mason’s diver license that was inside a see-through plastic sleeve of the wallet. The dried blood stain on the plastic sleeve exclaimed the truth of who Terry and his guys were.

“You killed Mason and the others at the Stratosphere, didn’t you?” asked Shaun.

“Looks like Christopher went shopping in my duffle bag,” said Terry uncaringly raising his eyes to Shaun.

“I hold you responsible for that and for Chris too, he’s only seventeen years old,” said Shaun wanting nothing more than to put a bullet through Terry’s chest.

Terry stared at Shaun but didn’t say anything.

“I’m going to make this simple and easy,” said Harold holding his shotgun at the low-ready. “All of you get up and get your asses out of my tower.”