Blood Blade

Chapter 5

Cole ran until his legs could no longer carry him. Surrounded by tall trees and with the cabin nowhere in sight, he felt safe. Then he realized the creature was probably more at home in those trees than it had been inside the cabin. Dropping Gerald’s bag, he leaned against the nearest tree and slid down the trunk until he was seated with his legs splayed out in front of him.

“What the hell do I do now, Gerald?” he asked aloud as he laughed and leaned his head back against the tree. “Come on! You wanna guide me? Show up and guide me! What’s the matter? There are monsters, but no ghosts? Of course there aren’t any ghosts! A ghost would be too fucking helpful right now, so heaven forbid one might actually show up to make my life easier!”

Cole was suddenly very conscious of the fact that sweat was freezing onto his forehead. When he tried to touch his brow, he cracked the handle of Brad’s knife against his head. Having forgotten he was even carrying the knife, he set it down so he could open the bag and sift through it. Some of Gerald’s clothes were in there, along with a shaving kit, books, a pair of glasses, and then all the way at the bottom he came upon an object that made him smile.

Recognizing the brand of the satellite phone in his hand, Cole fought the urge to kiss it. “Screw it,” he muttered as he placed his lips upon the plastic cover and gave it some love. He almost gave it some more when he flipped open the cover and saw one bar of signal strength showing up on the display. Sure enough, the phone was connected to a satellite service that had always been too expensive for him to use. He took Gerald’s laminated card from his pocket and read it over so he could be sure to dial the correct number. The last thing he wanted to do was waste battery life on stupid mistakes. After checking the number once more, he pressed the Send button and held the phone up to his ear.

There were a few clicks, followed by a series of beeps. Then, like a song from an angel, there came a ring tone. Finally, someone answered.

“Hello, this is MEG Branch 40,” said the voice on the other end of the connection. It wasn’t an angel and it sure as hell didn’t sound like someone who would be named Meg.

“Uh, hello?” Cole replied.

“This is MEG Branch 40. How can I help you?” The voice on the other end sounded like a man at least ten years his junior, and more than a little perturbed. After sighing heavily, the man asked, “Are you looking for anyone in particular or do you have an instance to report?”

“An instance?” Cole chuckled to himself and let out a breath. “I sure do have an instance, but I don’t think you’d believe it enough to write it down in a report.”

“Try me.”

Using a cell phone and speaking to an annoyed operator had given Cole a small dose of normality. He’d also settled down enough to remember why he’d dialed the number in the first place.

“I need to speak to Paige,” he said.

“Paige who?”

And, with that one simple question, Cole realized an important question he’d forgotten to ask Gerald. “Uhhh, the one in Chicago.”

“Look, I understand you may be a bit confused right now,” the operator said in a surprisingly calm and supportive tone. “If you have someone you need to speak to, I can try to get you in touch with them. We don’t have a Paige who works here, though. You said you had an incident to report. Why don’t you start with that?”

Lowering his voice as if he was afraid a nearby beaver might be eavesdropping, Cole said, “I’m a friend of Gerald’s and he had this phone on him.”

“Gerald, huh? Is this a prank?”

“No. You’ve got to listen.”

The annoyance was back in force within the young man’s tone. When he spoke again, Cole had no trouble picturing one of the skinny little code crunchers from Digital Dreamers rolling his eyes and doodling on whatever paper was in front of him.

“You got some story you want to tell?” the young operator asked. “Then go ahead and tell it. Just make it real funny or real dirty, otherwise I’m sure I’ve heard better from some of the other comedians that call us.”

“There’s a man named Gerald—” Cole started.

“Cool. I’ve never had someone call with a limerick before.”

“Just shut up and let me finish.” Sensing he’d just bought himself no more than a few seconds of the operator’s attention, Cole went for the jugular. “Gerald’s dead.”

Without much of a pause, the operator said, “All right. Have you been seeing this Gerald person or do you just hear his voice? Are you certain the man you’re talking about is Gerald and not some other manifestation?”

Cole stared down at the snow and then at the phone in his hand. Although he wasn’t convinced he was insane just yet, he was getting awfully close. “What in the hell are you talking about? Who are you?”

“This is MEG Branch 40, sir. You dialed us, remember?”

Looking at the same words as they were printed upon Gerald’s card, Cole asked, “Does MEG stand for something?”

“Of course. We’re the Midwestern Ectological Group. Branch 40. Did you need another branch?”

“An ecological group?”

“Ectological,” the operator clarified. “As in spirits and other nonphysical entities.”

“Is ‘ectological’ even a word?” Cole asked.

“If you want to report a manifestation, get to it. The only reason I haven’t hung up on you is because you’re calling from one of our satellite lines. Come to think of it, whose phone is this? Did Walter put you up to this? Goddamn it, he did, didn’t he? Or did you steal this phone? Oh man, you’d be wise to drop it and run right now.”

Still looking at the card, Cole said, “I have a number to give you.”

“Go ahead.”

He rattled off the digits that were printed on the card beneath the phone number. At first he could hear the operator grumbling something about sending Walter a scathing e-mail. But before Cole was halfway through the numbers, the operator was scrambling frantically enough to knock something over on his end of the connection.

“Holy crap,” he said. “That’s a…you’re…”

Hearing the panic and frustration in his voice did Cole a bit of good. It seemed misery truly did love company. “Do you need me to repeat that number?” he asked.

“Hold on a second.”

A series of clicks was followed by a few short bursts of static. Meanwhile, Cole felt his stomach flop again as he thought he’d been disconnected. When the operator’s voice came back, it wasn’t as clear as it had been before, but there was more than enough intensity in it to make up the difference.

“I’m really sorry about all of that before,” he said. “I had to secure the line. Could you give me that number one more time?”

Cole repeated the digits. This time he even included the dashes that were written between a few of them. When he was done, he could hear the unmistakable clacking of fingers on a keyboard.

“Are you still there?” Cole asked.

“Yeah, yeah. Just looking up your ident code.”

“Ident code?”

“Yeah,” the operator replied. “It’s short for identity code.”

“Clever. Who are you?”

Unlike the last time he’d asked questions, the operator responded as if he actually had some interest in helping, rather than just tolerating him. “We’re the Midwest Ectological Group. We cover reports of paranormal activity throughout the U.S. and Canada. Maybe you heard of us?”

“Nope.”

“We’ve been on television a few times. Well, cable television. Are you one of those…you know?”

Guessing it was easier to lie than try to figure out the proper response, Cole said, “Yeah. I’m one of those,” and hoped for the best.

“Perfect! This is great! I’ve never actually caught one of these calls before. According to this code, this phone belongs to Gerald Keeler? Oh…you said…”

“Yeah. Gerald’s dead.”

The silence on the other end of the connection was almost thick enough to seep through the device in Cole’s hand. The words that broke it were meek and genuinely regretful. “Right. You mentioned that. What about…Brad Books?”

“Brad too,” Cole replied somberly.

“Jeez, I’m really sorry to hear that,” the operator replied.

Despite the awkward situation, Cole was grateful just to hear someone else’s voice. “What’s your name?” he asked.

Judging by the silence on the phone, the operator wasn’t used to hearing that question. “I’m Stu.”

“Hey, Stu. My name’s Cole Warnecki.”

“Oh…uh…you’re not supposed to use last names on these calls.”

“Really? Why?” Cole asked.

“I don’t know. That’s one of the rules you guys use.”

“Fine. Gerald gave me this phone and this number so I could get in touch with a woman named Paige. She’s supposed to be in Chicago.”

There were more clicks and clacks as Stu’s fingers flew over his keyboard. “That would be Paige…well…yeah. I’ve got a Paige listed in Gerald’s file and she’s in Chicago.”

“I need to talk to her. Actually, I need to see her. The only problem is I’m kind of a long ways from an airport or anything.”

“I know. The phone has a GPS in it and I’ve got your rough position on my screen right now.”

“Nice,” Cole said as he closed his eyes and pictured himself as a brightly colored dot on the display screen of the global positioning system that had recently been installed in Jason’s company car. As much as Cole got lost, he still hadn’t gotten high enough on the Digital Dreamers ladder to warrant such a fancy expense. “You guys have any way to get me out of here before I get ripped to pieces?”

“Oh sweet! You mean you’re on site with one of those creatures?”

“Sure. Maybe I can snap a few pictures for you before I get eaten,” Cole growled. “Why don’t you just tell me what the hell I’m supposed to do to get out of here? Gerald was pretty adamant that I don’t wait for the cops.”

“Yeah, that would be way too messy,” Stu chimed in. “There’s someone in the area that should be able to meet you somewhere within a mile or two of your location. Up for a walk?”

Cole didn’t answer right away because he was distracted by the sound of what might or might not have been distant thunder. When the sound died away, he whispered, “I’m up for a run. Just tell me where I need to go.”

“I’ve already sent word to one of Gerald’s contacts in that area. Head due south until you meet up with a paved highway that’s running from northeast to southwest.”

“Hold on a second. I’m a city boy. We don’t come equipped with compasses.”

“You don’t have a compass on you?” Stu asked.

“Just a minute.” Without waiting for confirmation, Cole set the phone down and started rooting through Gerald’s bag. Sure enough, he found a survival knife complete with a compass in the handle. Just what every boy wanted for Christmas. Picking up the phone, he announced, “Found one.”

“Good. Head south until you hit that highway. It shouldn’t be more than two or three miles.”

“Two or three miles?”

“Yeah,” Stu replied. “Maybe four. No more than five, though. I can’t get an exact fix on your position.”

“Never mind. I’m on my way.”

“Do you need them to bring anything?”

“A division of Marines and a tank would be nice,” Cole replied.

Stu chuckled and capped it off with a snort. “I mean like a medical kit or food or anything.”

Checking the phone’s screen, Cole saw that there was still plenty of life in the batteries. Apparently, Gerald was one of those rare, mythical breeds of men who had a thousand dollar phone and didn’t have it surgically connected to his ear long enough to wear the charge down.

“What’s the matter?” Stu asked intently. “You sound hurt.”

“Not hurt,” Cole gasped as he zipped up the bag, then hefted it over his shoulder and started running. “Just moving faster than I have for months. I really need to start going back to the gym again.”

“You’re pretty high up and it must be cold there. Let’s see…yep. I just checked the weather in your area.”

“And?”

“It’s cold,” Stu reported.

Now it was Cole’s turn to laugh. With his legs churning through the snow and his feet already tingling within his boots, he didn’t exactly have breath to spare. It did, however, feel good to take action rather than just try and piece together what was going on. “What about Paige?” Cole asked. “I still need to get ahold of her.”

“I can try to connect you if you don’t mind holding.”

“I’ve got nothing else to do right now. If it sounds like I’m dying, just ignore it.”

As Stu clicked away at his keyboard, he said, “You gotta tell me more about that creature sometime, dude. I’ll bet it was awesome.”

Now that he’d cleared the trees, Cole was dashing through a wide-open field of snow. He could still hear the occasional roar in the distance, but it sounded like it was getting farther away rather than closer. When he thought he heard another animal’s growl mixed in with the first, he put some more steam into his strides and kept running. The compass in the knife handle rattled noisily within its plastic casing, but indicated that he was more or less southward bound.

“Awesome isn’t really…the word…that comes to mind,” Cole wheezed.

Gerald’s bag was strapped across his back, and the knife stuck out from one of his jacket pockets like a mutated pen. Having seen a few models similar to the old man’s satellite phone, Cole quickly found the earpiece in one of the carrying case’s little pockets. Once the piece was plugged into the phone and his ear, Cole gasped, “Hello? Can you hear me?”

“Yeah,” Stu replied instantly. “What’s wrong?”

“Just checking the equipment.”

“You sound a little rough, but I can hear you.”

“That’s not surprising,” Cole said. “If my legs don’t freeze, they may just fall off in protest. Not to mention…the very distinct…possibility of a heart attack.”

“Eh, don’t be so hard on yourself. So is something chasing you? What is it?”

Before Cole was forced to make up a story that didn’t end with him being slapped around and tossed aside, Stu interrupted.

“Just a sec, Cole. I’ve got Paige ready to join in. Here she is.”

The next voice that filled Cole’s ear was sharp and concise. Compared to Stu’s easy rambling, this woman sounded more like something stabbing him through the eardrum.

“Who is this?” she snapped.

“My name’s Cole. I’m a friend of Gerald.”

“Never heard of you. How’d you get this phone number?”

“Gerald gave it to me.” He had to stop so he could catch his breath. Thankfully, the terrain was kind enough to slope downward and give him a few tall trees on either side for cover, so he wasn’t charging like a dark dot in the middle of a white field. The cold air must have been doing him some good, because his breath was coming easier and his limbs weren’t killing him. Either that or his body was just numb enough to keep working through the agony that he’d earned from years of sitting on his ass with a video-game controller in his hand.

“Gerald is…he’s…” Wincing even though he didn’t know this woman, Cole forced himself to spit out the truth before he was cut off by any number of flukes that could interrupt a phone signal from the middle of nowhere. “He’s dead.”

Instead of crying or expressing the shock he’d been expecting, the woman asked, “Was there anyone else with him?”

“Yes. Brad was there.”

“Is he dead too?”

Cole felt a bit of relief since he didn’t have to spell it all out. “Afraid so.”

When she spoke again, Paige’s voice was considerably less severe. “And who are you, Cole?”

“I met Brad and Gerald on a hunting trip. Gerald told me to tell you what happened before you heard it from anyone else. I know you may not believe this but…he told me to tell you that it took a…it was…” Gritting his teeth, Cole struggled to cut through everything else that had happened so he could focus upon one particular moment. Finally, he remembered the exact words Gerald had used. “He said to tell you…only a Full Blood could take Brad down. I don’t know what that means. I may have gotten it wrong, but—”

“You didn’t get it wrong,” Paige said with a touch of sadness in her voice. “So they’re both really dead.”

Now that he picked up on the sorrow he’d been expecting from the woman, Cole felt like an ass for wanting to hear it. “Yeah,” he said as he slowed to a stop and pulled in a few more breaths. “We were attacked by some sort of animal. I think it’s still chasing me.”

“You saw it?” Paige asked. “You saw the Full Blood?”

“If a Full Blood is a big, ugly monster that can tear through a room full of hunters and shake off automatic fire, then I saw it.”

“Are you the only one who survived?”

“I think so,” Cole replied as he looked around. There was a surprising amount of distance already between him and the cabin. Other than a few trees, he didn’t see much else. “A few others made it out, but I’ve been hearing that thing prowling around. It might be after them.”

“Have the MEG guys arranged for someone to pick you up?”

“Yeah. I’m headed there now.”

“Good. I’ll find out who’s picking you up and get in touch with them. This is very important, Cole. Did Gerald or Brad give you anything to take back?”

“Yes. I’ve got a knife. Or maybe it’s a sword.”

“Perfect. Does it have anything on it?”

“There’s some blood and some markings.” Chuckling, Cole added, “Honestly, I don’t know what I’m looking for.”

“That’s perfect. Keep the knife the way it is, blood and all.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes,” Paige said. “Wrap it up and bring it with you. It’s very important. Have the police or anyone found the bodies yet?”

“I don’t think so. Gerald told me not to call the police, and we’re kind of out in the boonies here.”

“Good. Keep running and get to that pickup spot. I’ll arrange to have you flown straight here as soon as possible.”

“Flown?” Cole gasped. “I need to get in touch with my job or my friends.” The notion of calling his mom didn’t sound unappealing, but he wasn’t about to make that known to a complete stranger. “After all that’s happened, I may not be able to get onto a plane. I sure as hell won’t be able to get this sword thing through security.”

“Don’t worry about that. Just get to the pickup and we’ll take care of the rest. And don’t call anyone else. Understand that? Nobody.”

“We? Who’s we? Come to think of it, who are you? Why can’t I call anyone?”

“Do you really want to drag any of your friends or family into this?”

“No,” Cole said without hesitation.

Paige laughed once under her breath. “Believe me, this all may seem a bit strange, but I’m your best chance for making it out of there alive. Just do what I say and try to keep your head down.”

Cole noticed that she didn’t exactly guarantee that he was home free just yet, but he wouldn’t have believed such a claim anyway. It did him a lot of good just to hear someone admit that things were a hell of a long ways from normal. “What’s a Full Blood?” he asked.

There was no reply.

“Are you some sort of scientist?” Cole asked. “Is that why you want that thing’s blood?”

“You sound like you’re out of breath,” Paige finally said. “Just do me a favor, save whatever you’ve got left and keep moving. You’ve already come this far, so don’t mess it up now.”

Cole nodded reflexively, even though there was nobody around. As far as he could tell, there was still nothing close enough to hurt him, but he started jogging, and then broke into a run just to be safe.

“Can you still hear me?” Paige asked.

“Yeah. Just…taking your advice.”

“Good. I’ll see you when you get to Chicago.”

“Chicago? I need to go all the way to Chicago?”

The only thing he heard in response to his frantic questions was the crackle of static from his earpiece. Cole wanted to yell at someone, but didn’t have enough breath. He checked the phone and saw there was still some battery life and a bit of signal strength, but the connection had been broken. Whoever Paige was, she’d hung up on him.

He went to pull the earpiece out and winced when it didn’t come loose. It seemed to have frozen into his ear, but came free after a bit of painful coercion. Without breaking stride, he shut the phone off, wrapped the earpiece’s wire around it and stuffed the whole thing into his pocket. That left him with nothing but the wind and the snow to keep him company.

The last time he had been forced to run more than half a block, he was at the mercy of a gym teacher who had a whistle stuck between his teeth and a rod shoved up his ass. Even then, he could at least slow down when the overaged jock wasn’t looking. This time, he had to keep moving. It wasn’t a question of if he was in good enough shape or had enough breath in his lungs. It was a simple matter of survival. If he wanted to live, he had to keep moving.

Every so often Cole would stop just long enough to catch his breath and check the compass in Gerald’s knife. He thought he saw spots drifting through his line of sight, but ignored them. He thought his legs were straining to the point of ripping muscle from bone, but he ignored that as well. All in all, he was amazed at how much he could ignore when he had a real monster tracking him down.

The highway wasn’t much more than a strip of iced-over gray in the distance. If not for a few crooked light posts, Cole might have overlooked it completely. By the time he caught sight of it, the thought of getting killed by the creature didn’t seem so bad. At least that would have been quicker than slowly fading within a shell of his own frozen sweat.

It took the better part of an hour before he was close enough to actually feel cement under his boots. When he did, his aching knees were the only things preventing him from dropping down and kissing that dirty stretch of road. Cole’s joy lasted all of three minutes before he realized he was still alone. There was no truck in sight. There were no cars. There wasn’t even a nice, well-lit gas station advertising good eats and walnut bowls.

“What I wouldn’t give for some good eats right now,” he grumbled. “Hell, I’d even take a nut bowl. What the hell are those things, anyway? Am I saying this out loud? Can anyone hear me? Am I already dead? Why can’t I stop talking?”

Cole stumbled along the side of the road without knowing where he was headed. Since he might not be able to get moving again if he stopped, he just kept stumbling along as he dug into his pocket for Gerald’s phone. Before he could mash his deadened fingertips against the keypad, he heard the distinctive crunch of something heavy against the snow. He closed his eyes and prayed for the sound of an engine rather than a growl.

For the first time since he got a look up Katie Fenner’s skirt in his junior year of high school, his prayers were answered.

The truck looked like something from one of the hundred or so World War II games he’d worked on over the years. It rumbled up to him, and the window was lowered so a gnarled man wearing an orange stocking cap could lean over and ask, “You Cole?”

“Yeah. I…sure am.”

“You wanna get in?”

“Oh yeah.”

“It’s open,” the driver said. “Hop inside.”

And Cole did need to hop because the driver wasn’t about to hit the brakes. The moment his backside hit the seat, he leaned back and let out a breath he might have been holding since he’d left the cabin. At the tail end of that same breath he started laughing. Oddly enough, the driver laughed along with him.

“Feel good to be sittin’ down, eh?” the man asked in an accent that had an equal chance of being Canadian as it had of being a bad impression of a Canadian.

“It sure does.”

“Who sent ya?”

Cole had peeled his gloves off and was rubbing his hands in front of the closest vent. He was concentrating so hard on thawing out his fingers that he let that question slip right past him. He sure didn’t have any trouble hearing what came next.

The pistol was a .44 revolver, and it seemed to have materialized in the driver’s hand. When he pointed the gun at Cole’s head and thumbed back the hammer, the click seemed to echo through the entire cab.

“I asked you a question,” the driver snarled.

“Gerald,” Cole spat. “He…no wait! His name was Stu. He was on the phone and told me to come here.” When he saw that his words weren’t changing the driver’s foul mood, he added, “And Paige too. She told me to meet up with you. In fact, I think she said she might have called you about bringing me something for the ride to the airport.”

The driver lowered his pistol before Cole had his fourth nervous breakdown that day. Glancing toward an expensive radio setup bolted to his dash, the driver grunted, “Just bein’ careful. Never know who might be wandering along the road, eh?”

“Yeah.”

“I got some hot coffee and candy if you want. Paige said you might be hungry.”

“I’ll pass.”

The rest of the ride was spent in silence. By the time they reached the airport, the sun was long gone and the stars were out. Cole got some rest and was only forced back into consciousness when the truck rattled to a stop. It was the first time he’d been still the entire day.

“No need to open both eyes,” the driver said. “Once you’re in the plane, you can go right back to sleep.”

“We’re at the airport?” Cole asked as he absently wiped at his eyes.

“Yep. Sounds like she’s all ready to go.”

Cole pushed open the truck door and was greeted by the rush of icy wind that carried the louder roar of a plane’s engines. Although he couldn’t be certain about the airport, he had a sneaking suspicion he’d seen that plane before. As if on cue, a man wearing the same three flannel shirts layered on top of each other waddled around the plane and waved toward the truck.

“That’s Andy,” the driver said. “He’ll be takin’ you all the way into Chicago.”

“I know who he is. He’s the same guy that flew me here.”

“Really? Then you should feel right at home.”

While he might not have felt right at home, he was already feeling the plummets and barrel rolls that had brought up everything in his stomach on the way into Canada. “Can’t we just fly on a jet?” he asked. “It’d be faster. And…uh…wouldn’t kill me.”

“Oh sure,” the driver replied as he pulled Gerald’s bag from behind the seat. “You got anything in there that you’d like to check through customs?”

“Point taken. I suppose that pilot knows how to fly into the States without hitting customs? Does he have smuggling compartments under the seats?”

Chuckling, the driver replied, “You watch a lot of movies, don’t you? We ain’t terrorists. Andy goes through customs like anyone else. Private planes get a little more slack on personal property, is all. You ain’t carrying any drugs or nothin’, are you?”

“No.”

“All right then. Wouldn’t want you making me look bad.”

Cole managed to catch the bag that was tossed at him before it knocked him in the teeth. After checking to make sure he had everything, he asked, “Does the pilot need a password to refrain from shoving a gun in my face?”

“Keep up that smart mouth and I’m sure he’ll think of something you’ll like even more. You have a good flight, now.”

Even though the driver settled behind his wheel and gunned his engine, Cole didn’t close his door right away. Instead, he extended a hand across the passenger seat and said, “I don’t think I thanked you for picking me up.”

“No. You didn’t.”

“Well…thanks. It’s been kind of a rough day.”

Smirking, the driver shook his hand with almost enough strength to snap it off. “Comes with the territory.”

Releasing his grip on Cole’s hand, the driver eased up on his brake just enough for the truck to roll slowly forward. Once the door had cleared Cole’s shoulder, it was pulled shut and locked with a few quick swats of the driver’s hand. Even after the truck picked up some speed and rumbled away from the airport, Cole was still standing in the spot where he’d been left. Slowly, he allowed some steam to drift from his mouth and straightened himself up. Since there was nowhere else to go, he hauled his things toward the plane.

“This extreme enough for you, dumbass?” he asked himself. As he got close to the plane and started tossing his things on board, he put on a smile and shouted to be heard over the propellers. “Any chance I could get you to swing past Seattle?”

The pilot grinned and replied, “Nope. But do me a favor and look around for some parachutes. The safety inspectors have really been busting my ass about that.”