Created (Book 1 of the Created) Read online

  Smith had motioned to a group of men who had searched all of us before we left. “The base can't have anyone taking images or uploading anything. Your mobile devices will be returned to you after the Hunt.”

  “Shit.” I muttered as the thought resonated.

  We had left the staging area at eleven, drove for about thirty minutes, waited around an hour for the vampire then the world had gone to Hell. My best guess the time was somewhere after two in the morning. There was almost five hours before the sun would be up.

  Running did not seem logical. I was outnumbered, plus the vampires were bigger and faster. I might survive one encounter with divine intervention, but with multiple attacks I would be doomed.

  The large tree against my back gave me an idea. Spinning around, I began to dig in the soft black dirt underneath the log. Forced to use my hands, I was surprised how quickly the excavation proceeded. Soon, a small opening began to form until there was sufficient room to conceal myself. Grabbing nearby broken limbs and vegetation, I slid into my makeshift cave pulling the items into the opening to help hide my location.

  Feeling only slightly more secure than when I was sitting in the open, I tried to rest. The soft of the moss on the back of a large rock I was using as a pillow, and the coziness of my newly constructed cave, did little to ease my concerns of dying or stop me from thinking about the men I had left behind to die. My mind wound not stop racing. The thoughts plagued me. All the mistakes.

  The sleep did not creep up on me but instead hit me swiftly and hard. I was not given time to fight back as I fell quickly into a nightmare about sitting nude among my schoolmates in a crowded Advanced Placement United States history class.

  Chapter 2

  I opened my eyes to a world still at night. I had no idea that I had been asleep except for a minimally refreshed feeling. How long, I didn't know.

  Gently, I parted my makeshift door to see if I could determine how much longer I must remain hidden. I was startled by a sound. In the distance, I could hear the soft destruction of items under foot.

  Just as gently, I closed the opening. Terrified, I dared not to move. My heart thrummed against my chest. Heavy footsteps neared. By the distinct lopping sound each was making, I realized there were at least three.

  I had no way to defend myself against one - now there was three.

  Pushing far back into my den, I prayed they wouldn't find me, but I was certain my fate would be the same as my mentor, Senator Hatcher, and his friends.

  The uneven footfalls stopped. I knew the vampires were close from the stench of rot and decay emitted from each of their bodies. The smell was horrible. I wanted to gag badly, but I knew it would spell my death if I did.

  A large snort was issued by one of the vampires then another; the sounds of heavy sniffing permeated the air. All of a sudden, a vampire leapt onto the old log with a resounding thud causing the semi hollow structure to bend and shift.

  I felt my dwelling shudder and tilt, pinning my right ankle between the wood and a partially hidden large rock. The ankle throbbed and swelled but I tried to sequester my scream of pain. Trapped, I heard the vampire playfully dig its claws into the frail bark, peeling away a thin layer.

  They were not guessing; the creatures knew where I was hiding, and I was surrounded with no promise of escape.

  I pondered how they knew then I realized my stupidity. Of course, they could smell me.

  The vampire on the log continued to toy with me by cutting into the flesh of the dead tree removing bits and chunks. I could hear the scratching and knew it was only a matter of time before he was clear of the tree and my den revealed

  A throaty deep growl arose from the left side of the tree only to be answered with a monstrous roar from my tormentor. The growl became an apologetic whimper in response.

  Undeterred, the vampire continued its methodical progress on the tree.

  I tried to work my foot free stealthily at first, but what was the use of hiding it when they already knew where I was located.

  Eventually, I was able to dislodge my ankle from the confinement. If I was going to die, I was going to die like a man. Maybe just maybe, I thought, I might be able to take one out with me as I went down.

  Grabbing the bowling ball sized rock I had used as a crude pillow from under my head, I readied myself by taking deep breaths.

  Resolved and gathered, it was time to fight.

  I could hear the gnashing of teeth as I worked to get into a better position to exit from underneath the log. I could tell from the activity above, the vampires were growing more agitated. A lot of scratching and snorting led to complete silence. I paused, waiting for their next move.

  A gunshot cracked through the air, echoing through the trees, followed by a horrific moan. Help had arrived. I was jubilant for a second until a wave of relief and regret washed over me leaving me saddened.

  I felt the tree shift again as the vampire jumped from its perch.

  Multiple shots rang out. Several of the bullets missed their intended target ripping through the downed tree. If I wanted to stay alive, I should stay under the tree until the shooting was finished. I settled deeper into my earthen hovel.

  Looking through the cracks in my makeshift door, I saw a spiked haired vampire lying on the ground two feet away from me. He appeared human except for his grayish, pocked skin and dagger-like fangs. The fangs hung down in pairs on both sides of the mouth about a half inch apart from its twin. The fangs were wide at the root then narrowed to a point at the base. He was wearing a makeshift tunic of animal skins and salvaged clothes.

  Shouting was closing on my position as the gunfire became interspersed with shrieks and screams from the remaining vampires.

  The log rolled when the vampires used it as a springboard as they fled. In the low light of the burgeoning morning, I could see two vampires jumping-running through the trees in the early glimmers of sunlight as the sun peeked through the trees.

  I followed their escape, watching both males scramble away. The two were dressed similarly to the dead vampire beside me: one was exceedingly tall and the other of average height. The bigger one snapped at the smaller one when he veered too close. The short one glanced off a tree then bounced off another trying to escape the sharp teeth. Soon, the two were out of sight.

  “Hello? You can come out now. We are Camp Cooper's security team. We are here to rescue you.” A male's voice said calmly.

  “Under here!” Scrambling from my hiding place, I was careful not to disturb the dead vampire on the ground. An unseen hand grabbed my shirt collar and helped me up.

  I turned to see my rescuer to thank him when the dead vampire sprung to life, clutching at my pants leg.

  I know I screamed, but I felt removed from my body as the vampire's eyes popped open. It all seemed to happen in slow motion: the eyes, the fangs.

  Holding my leg, the weak and incapacitated vampire pulled my leg toward his mouth. Violently, I kicked the wounded beast in the head with my free foot until he let go. He narrowly missed embedding his fangs as I drew back my leg.

  Crawling with the use of only one arm, he kept coming for me.

  Backed against the fallen tree, I turned to climb when a flash of metal whizzed by my head. Looking over my shoulder, I saw the vampire searching for what remained of his throat.

  “Move!”

  I was easily pushed aside by the ancient Mr. Smith, who moved much better than his age implied. He quickly pulled a silvery bladed machete from the vampire's neck. A look of determination and aggravation was maintained as he hacked away at the vampire that had been dispatched at my feet. In three blows, he finally separated the head from the body.

  “Tear the GV4 apart and burn it with the rest while I dispose of this.” Smith picked up the lifeless vampire's head by its thick mangy, black hair.

  Two of the security team roughly shoved by me before the men lifted the dead vampire by the legs, dragging it away through the woods followed by ten or twelve others.
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  Mr. Smith studied the creature's face. The man appeared to be looking for an answer to why all of this had happened. Sullenly, he dropped the lifeless head to his side. He turned his attention to me for the longest time then slightly shook his head as he led me into the pines.

  Chapter 3

  A man I had never seen before paced agitatedly in the small confines of the isolation room yelling at the man I knew as Mr. Smith. "What the hell happened out there Leslie?!"

  It was the room where I was being tended to by a group of silently worried doctors and nurses who avoided eye contact.

  Mr. Smith did not answer. He watched the hospital staff methodically inspect and document every bit of torn flesh until in a final flurry wounds were dressed, samples collected for study, and lumps smoothed with ointment.

  The dirty instruments and charts were stowed carefully. Looking over my bandages covering my scratches, the lead doctor motioned to the hunting guide director with a subtle nod.

  The collection of medical personnel quickly scooted out the door at the behest of Mr. Smith, who secured the door after the last person exited.

  What kind of name is Leslie for a guy, I thought. The name really did his tough guy image harm. I was delirious enough from either my horrifying night or the fresh meds coursing through my veins to think it might be reasonable to ask him why his parents would have named him such an awful name. Cloudy reasoning seemed to take hold long enough to tell me to shut up.

  The drugs were beginning to take effect. My eye lids were feeling heavy though sleep was the last thing I wanted. I tried to speak, but my lips wouldn't move. Trying again, the numbness was spreading too fast. I felt myself drifting, deeper and deeper almost like I was floating away but tethered to the bed.

  When did they give me a shot, I wondered?

  Fighting to stay awake, the need consumed me. I thought I wanted answers, but my body felt light, relaxed. My mind was slowing. Warmness radiated throughout my body; fogginess cluttered my mind. The two men were arguing, but there was no sound. I could see through my foggy haze the conversation was animated. The mouths appeared to be moving rapidly then slowly as the two faces became distorted, blurred, and surreal.

  I snapped back to reality for a fleeting instance. At my side lay my useless arms with something inside was begging me to sleep. It began a determined tug of war, but I challenged the growing darkness. Tingling radiated through my extremities as limbs were fought with in an effort to shake off the effects of the sedative. A simple thought clung to life as the darkness filled the edges of my mind: vampires aren't real.

  I had seen them. I had to know the truth. I had to know...

  Chapter 4

  The dreams were wildly vivid.

  Glowing greens and rich blacks lay before my eyes. The colors framed the hunting encampment. Standing inside the former shed turned hunting blind again, I shook in fear as an echo of screams started low at a faraway distance, but become quickly deafening in the confined space.

  My hands trembled as I fumbled to lock the door. I knew it was a futile gesture if even a single vampire wanted to taste my blood. The act shouldn't have slowed my shaking, though momentarily I was a little more at ease.

  Taking a chair in front of the tinted and now closed window, I settled into gazing at the spot where the hunting party had attempted to kill the GV4. The location was empty. Hours seemed to pass.

  Staring out into the darkness, I watched as a single pair of flaming red eyes peered from the shadows, creeping ever closer. I grabbed the arm rests of my chair as the pair of eyes grew to four then eight sets. An icy sweat began to cover my forehead and back. My heart thumped as a sense of panic rose inside. Against my desire to distance myself from my own demise, I placed my hand on the windowsill. Inexplicably, I leaned forward to catch a better view of the approaching figures.

  Abruptly, I found myself awakening at night in an open field of waving golden brown wheat straw. Unsure of my location, I lay still listening to the silent field. No birds calling, no crickets chirping, not even the rustling on the trees as a gentle wind pushed the flowing wheat from side to side.

  Rising to one knee, I surveyed the waist high wheat and the surrounding woods, being careful not to expose my position. The starless night contained a lonesome full moon, which hung low in the sky like a spotlight framing the small field in a yellow hue. Patiently, I scanned looking for signs of movement.

  The gentle sway of the straw was disarmingly calming. Content I was alone, I wanted to make my next move in due time.

  Waiting for hours, feeling safe, I stood.

  Whispering, I asked myself, "Which direction do I proceed to get back to the base?

  Huge, clawed hands seized me from behind, lifting me from the ground before I could satisfy my question with an answer. I could not free myself from the monstrous grip as the claws dug into my flesh and fingers tightened as I struggled. The pain emanating from my ripped muscle tissue was unbearable.

  I felt my feet losing contact with the ground as I was lifted upward. Stretching my toes downward, I hoped to find footing to no avail.

  My back brushed against the creature's torso as I was drawn nearer. I wanted to scream, but in my fright I was unable to issue a solitary sound.

  The being's breathing was heavy and smelled rancid. The warm air and smell coupled with my impending doom made me nauseated. I felt the sudden deep relief huffing of a hunger about to be satisfied grace my neck. The beast paused after taking a final sniff.

  I thought I was going to pass out. My head was spinning as my body went completely slack.

  A crazily depraved scream covered the animalistic utterances of the monster who was threatening to kill me. I rapidly realized the scream was my own as a single fang pierced the skin of my throat.

  I awoke trying to grab at my throat to find my hands bound at my sides by metallic strapping attached to a metal bed. Struggling to free myself, the strapping was digging into the skin on my wrists causing them to begin to bleed. A frayed strand of the woven metal broke free, sliding underneath my skin with ease. I winced at the pain though it was minimal; no more than a large caliber needle used to draw blood. It was the unusual feeling of something inside my skin that bothered me more.

  The drugs were rapidly wearing off. My bones ached; blood drizzled from my chaffed wrists. My head felt as if the top of my skull was being hacked off with a dull axe, and worse, I still did not know where or why I was being held.

  Easing up from the bed, I attempted to sit somewhat upright so I could look around, using my elbows to hold myself in position, careful not to pinch my already raw wrists again. I called aloud, "Where am I?"

  My vision began returning to normal from its blurry state with every blink. Faintly, I could see a group of people dressed in dark military attire carrying weapons milling above me on a series of gray walkways.

  The ceiling of the room was stark white with large rectangular fluorescent lights spaced evenly apart. Following the ceiling down, men and women dressed in surgical uniforms were scrambling hurriedly to place medical machines in the room.

  "Hello? Can you tell me what is going on?"

  No one acknowledged my questions or acknowledged me.

  A female clad in blue scrubs pushed a cart covered by a blue drape within two feet of the bed.

  I spoke to her, "Can you tell me what is happening? What is wrong with me?"

  The woman turned to me. I could tell she was in her late twenties to mid-thirties with brown hair and highlights of auburn hanging loosely from her cap. A mask covered her face. What small amount of features that was visible appeared to be attractive.

  When she looked up, I was instantly caught off guard. Her eyes were entirely bright sunflower yellow with a hint of orange around the outer recesses. The corneas and the irises were not visible but entirely gone. The yellow coloring was solid making the eyes seem to be a single solid piece until the eyes met her dark flesh. If the eyes had been dark, they would have appeared lifel
ess like a doll except there was no reflection.

  The eyes didn't scare me, not at first, as I believed it was the drugs phasing out of my system an after affect I told myself.

  Minutes passed as the nurse with the yellow eyes prepped me for surgery. I never allowed her from my sight, watching her every move. She was gentle and precise.

  Her hands were clad in gloves, but her fingers were delicate in approach setting up my IV. She inadvertently brushed against my arm with hers as she slid the needle into my arm and connected me to a dark liquid. She did not start the drip. The skin of her arm was cold and smooth, no warmth, lifeless where it touched mine. The sensation shook me to my soul.

  I avoided her gaze as her eyes passed over my body as she would periodically check my vitals and restraints. Intently, I followed her movements as she took measurements of my temperature and pulse, writing the information on a chart which hung from the foot of my bed. It wasn't until she shined a small flashlight in my eyes to check for movement that I was confronted with the eyes again. Inches from my face, I could not help to notice the eyes.

  The drugs were mostly gone so there was no longer an excuse. I was unnerved to say the least. Pulling my head to a side to avoid staring into her face resulted in her forcibly turning my head by grabbing my face across the cheekbones with her thumb and forefinger. She squeezed with enough pressure to get my full attention as she straightened my head.

  I exclaimed tersely, "That hurt!"

  I am not sure she cared. The woman did not react or apologize. The nurse continued in a professional, thorough manner.

  It was her eyes that were bothering me. I attempted closing mine then reopening. Nothing. The yellow eyes did not go away. Concluding it was the lights and my freshly opened, but addled eyes playing tricks, I blinked rapidly hoping it would clear. Nope. Finally, I tried to dismiss the coloring to my own delirium, the drugs, contacts, or all three. The nurse never blinked. She never ever blinked.