On the Edge of Humanity (16 page)

We walked down the center, passing four desks on our right. A beep sounded. A computer screen on one of the desks came to life. After several other beeps, a printer next to the computer sprang into action.

“We’ll go into that back room near the cabinets,” Dr. Vieira said, pointing to his right.

I walked into the room first, followed by Ben. The small room had a leather bench with white paper on it; to the left sat a counter with a sink.

“Have a seat on the bench, Jo,” Dr. Vieira said.

I stepped up and sat down on the white paper while Ben stood next to me. Dr. Vieira washed his hands, then picked up the tweezers that were sitting on a paper towel alongside other medical instruments.

“This may hurt,” he said. He lightly grabbed my chin and tilted up my head. “Don’t move.”

He pulled out the first shard of glass, which was embedded in my upper lip, just under my nose, and dropped it into a metal bin. The sound of the glass hitting metal made Ben jump. Dr. Vieira plucked four more pieces, which claimed the area below my bottom lip, then he cleaned up the dried blood on my face.

“I’m surprised the glass from the windshield did this to you. Normally it wouldn’t. All cars have safety glass to prevent major injuries,” Dr. Vieira explained.

That may be true, but he didn’t see the force Jonah put behind breaking the glass.

“Your stitches are dissolving nicely. Whoever sewed you up did a great job. You might not have a scar.”

“Really? No scar?” I asked as excitement filtered through my voice.

In a week that consisted of attempted rape and finding out that vampires were real, this was the best news. No scar meant I could cross it off the bully list.

“I said you
might not
have a scar,” Dr. Vieira repeated.

It didn’t matter. It was exciting news. I should find Dr. Case and thank him.

“The puncture holes are superficial, so they’ll heal. You won’t see any scars from the glass.”

I silently shouted for joy. Maybe things were looking up. Maybe Webb would have good news about Sam, too.

Dr. Vieira finished cleaning my face. “I need to pull a small amount of blood from you.”

“Uh, why?” I asked.

“Just precaution. We need to ensure there are no infections. You’ve been through a lot. Since I can’t get your records from the hospital, I need to verify that everything is okay.”

It couldn’t hurt. After all, I wasn’t so sure about Dr. Case. Who was he really? Besides, I needed to know if my blood type
was
actually ‘AF’ negative.

Dr. Vieira gathered all the necessary tools to take a sample of my blood. Then he tied a rubber band around my left arm just above the crease of my elbow. He patted the vein with two fingers. A second later, the vein pulsed into view. I watched as he pulled the plastic casing off the needle then inserted the vial. His eyes changed from golden brown to black.

My vision blurred for a second.

He stared at me. His dark black eyes had the same tint of red in them as mine had earlier or maybe as they did now. Was he hungry? Did he need blood?

“Hey, man, the vial is full. Dr. Vieira, blood is leaking out,” Ben shouted.

I blinked.

“I’m so sorry. I don’t know what got into me,” Dr. Vieira said.

“I do, man. You’re a vampire and you’re hungry,” Ben replied. “You’re not touching her, so don’t even think about it.” He turned to me. “What’s going on? I thought your eyes changed from silver to a blue-green. Now they change to black? Are you…one of…” He flicked his thumb at Dr. Vieira.

“No.” I shook my head. “I don’t know.”

Ben’s horrified expression returned and he stepped away from me. It looked as if all the blood rushed out of his tan complexion. Maybe part of him was starting to put the pieces together. Maybe he could fill me in if he figured it out.

Dr. Vieira was quiet as he placed a cotton ball then a Band-Aid on my arm. He washed and dried his hands. “Let’s go. I’ll escort you to Lt. London’s office.”

Ben kept his distance from me as we made our way back to the elevators. Was he afraid of me? He seemed to be struggling with this vampire thing again.

“Are you one of them?” Ben asked, a hint of disgust in his voice.

“I told you, I don’t know. I don’t know if my dad is either. All I know is I carry some sort of stupid vampire gene, which makes my eyes change colors. But, right now, I’m still human. Do you have a problem with that?”

Anger morphed through me. I couldn’t help that I was born with a non-human gene.

Ben stopped walking, raked his fingers through his hair and let out a deep sigh. Dr. Vieira had stopped at the end of the hallway ahead of us.

“I’m not contagious. If you can’t handle this then I’m sure Webb can take you home, but I would like you to stay. I need another human to help me through this and Sam needs both of us.” My rage had diminished a bit.

“Look, I don’t agree with the whole vampire thing. While these guys seem nice and all, I don’t want them sinking their teeth into me. I don’t even want them near you,” Ben said. “You don’t even know for sure who these guys really are or if they are telling the truth about who you are. Until we know more, I’m not letting you out of my sight.”

“Do you think you’re going to keep vampires off you and me with a baseball bat? I asked, trying to lighten the mood a little.

“Whatever works,” he said as his mouth curled up on one side, a dimple showing.

My heart fluttered slightly. “Mmm-hmm. We saw how that went today.” I smiled.

“Let’s go.” Dr. Vieira’s voice echoed down the hall.

We followed him through the maze of corridors, heading back to the elevators. The walls were bare but clean—sterile, as if they were painted recently. Anyone stepping out of the elevator would be challenged to find it. I had the impression the military wanted it that way.

Webb’s office was located on the second floor. As we rode the elevator down, my mind drifted, and I thought of my brother. Did he go to the funeral home looking for Neil? But he would need a car to do that. Maybe on the way there he ran into Neil’s attacker. Or did Jonah have something to do with Sam’s disappearance?

“Jo?” Ben called out.

The elevator doors had opened. Ben’s cinnamon crop brightened beneath the LED lights in the hall. I shook off the thoughts of Sam lying in some ditch in the State Forest as I stepped out and joined Ben.

This floor wasn’t as chilly as the fourth.

Voices carried down the hall and a phone rang in the distance. Electricity floated in the air as we approached Webb’s office. I tried to discern the tingling feeling I kept experiencing. Maybe it had something to do with vampires. Did they give off an electrical charge?

“In here.” Dr. Vieira pointed to a door on his right.

When we walked in, Webb was standing near a small window with his back to us. He had changed from his green fatigues to an all black uniform. His cargo pants were tucked inside his boots; the red leather sword strapped to his belt with the blade inside, hiding for his next victim.

“Yes, sir,” he said into his cell phone. He pressed a button and turned around.

I took in a heartening breath. I wasn’t sure if it was the way he looked at me or because he might have news about Sam.

“Thanks, Dr. Vieira. I’ll take it from here.” Webb picked up a coffee cup and cradled it in his hands.

Dr. Vieira grabbed the handle of the doorknob when Webb stepped around his desk.

Was that blood in his cup? I inhaled. Yep, it sure was. Hunger pains surfaced and I moistened my lips.

“Dr. Vieira, a moment,” Webb called out. “Here take this.” He handed Dr. Vieira the coffee cup.

Webb may have sensed my hunger; he looked at me with narrowed eyes.

“Have a seat, both of you.” Webb held out his hand, motioning us to a sitting area in the right corner of his office.

Ben had already sat down on the couch with his feet up on the coffee table. I joined him, while Webb slid into one of the chairs opposite us.

“Ben, I’ve spoken to your father.”

I scanned the room, waiting for Webb to continue. A credenza abutted the wall behind the desk. Two bookcases sat underneath the corner window perpendicular to each other. Several pictures dotted the walls, depicting a Naval aircraft carrier, a Drone airplane, two fighter jets and a picture of the Pentagon. A plaque with the same message as the one downstairs hung on the wall above the credenza.

“He’s agreed to let you spend the night here at the compound. We should be able to get both of you to school in the morning.” He leaned forward in his chair. “The barracks are on the third floor along with the mess hall. There are restrooms on each floor with the exception of the fourth. That floor is off limits unless you’re accompanied by Dr. Vieira.”

“What about Sam? Did you question Jonah?” I asked.

“We’ll get to that in just a second,” Webb replied. “Ben, Tripp is going to escort you to the mess hall. You can get something to eat. I need to speak with Jo for a few minutes.”

“I’m not leaving her alone with you. I saw what Dr. Vieira almost did,” Ben said.

Webb furrowed his brow.

“I want him to stay,” I said.

In fact, I needed Ben to stay. I needed a human to keep things real, to keep my sanity. I wasn’t sure how much more I could handle. The secret was out. Ben had witnessed the vampires in action, so whatever else Webb had to say or tell me shouldn’t surprise Ben.

Webb leaned back, his gaze shifting between Ben and me, his brow still knitted as he contemplated letting Ben stay.

He shifted his body forward. “Ben, you’ve seen a lot in the past couple of hours. I imagine you’re struggling with the reality of it all. Sometimes it’s hard for humans to process vampires being in the mortal world. Regardless, I can’t have you broadcasting the fact vampires exist. The military has measures in place to prevent humans from doing so.”

I drew in a breath.
They’re going to do something terrible to Ben.

Ben froze.

“Your dad told me that you’re interested in joining the Navy SEALs. Is that true?” Webb asked.

Ben’s eyes were unblinking. “If I can’t make it in the major leagues, then, yes, I’m very interested in the Navy SEAL program.”

“Well, this may be your taste of what’s to come.”

“I don’t understand,” Ben said as he let out a deep breath.

“How much do you know about the SEAL program?” Webb asked.

“I know that they go on secret missions and do all kinds of cool stuff,” Ben replied.

That’s right.
I saw that Ben had been researching the SEAL program when I was on his computer last week. I also recalled the letter from the Navy on his nightstand, although I didn’t read what it said.

Webb smiled. “And why are you interested in the SEAL program?” he asked.

“Because I want to fight and protect my country. I feel that I can rid the world of the really bad people who want to kill us,” Ben said.

“Let me guess. Like SEAL team six did with Osama bin Laden?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Just about every kid in America has your dream. But only the toughest recruits make it past the SEAL training. You have to be tough both physically and mentally. And I want to emphasize
mentally
. I can see your physical attributes may not be a problem, but with what I witnessed today in watching you, you’re far from having the mental capability to withstand what it takes to be a SEAL.” Webb stared at Ben.

I was amazed at the conversation. Was Webb trying to help Ben or was he trying to scare him?

Ben sat there in silence, not saying a word. I couldn’t make out if he were shocked at Webb’s honesty or the words Webb had delivered.

“You know nothing about me,” Ben said.

“Son, I know plenty. Do you think I would’ve let you in this facility not knowing who you were or who your dad was? I know you were born on June eighth, sixteen years ago to Travis and Victoria Jackson. I know your mother died last year of breast cancer.”

“So what? All that’s public record.”

“I also know you’ve been in trouble with the law and Police Chief Ron Garrett overlooked your little incident because he went to high school with your dad.”

“Hey, that record was sealed and locked up in Chief Garrett’s office. No one’s supposed to know about that,” Ben snapped, shock laden in his voice.

“What did you do, Ben?” I asked. Now I was shocked.

“Nothing,” he said as he squeezed his hands together, rubbing one thumb over the other.

I looked at Webb who had a blank expression. Was he trying to prove a point or something?

“Ben?” I nudged him.

He blew out a breath. “When my mother was going through chemo, I was…let’s just say I wasn’t happy. I had to attend some stupid political function for Mayor Edwards with my dad. The mayor said something to me and I attacked him. The cops came in and I was hauled down to the police station. That’s it.”

Wow! Ben needed anger management just like Sam. Was that why they got a long so well? Maybe that was the reason Mr. Jackson set up a class on anger management at school. I breathed a sigh of relief. The way Webb had set up the scene seemed far worse than what Ben had just told us.

“So, you got mad,” I said, looking at Ben. “He got mad what’s the big deal?” I asked, glancing at Webb.

“Right now, there is no big deal. But, Ben, as long as you’re in this building, you will do as I say and that means you obey my team as well. As I mentioned earlier, you’ve seen things that humans, such as yourself, could never imagine. And if you’re serious about becoming a SEAL, now would be a good time to practice the secrecy that SEALs live by. We don’t tolerate people who don’t abide by the rules of the military and more importantly, our code of ethics as SEALs. Our missions are extremely covert, which means secrecy is the highest priority. Any violations of the rules and regulations will result in death.”

Ben gasped. “SEALs don’t kill their own team members.”

“You’re correct. SEALs don’t kill their own, but my team is unique. Only a handful of humans know we exist. As you are aware, we aren’t your normal SEAL team, which is why any breach of our existence or rules can only lead to death. Do you understand me?”

Ben’s cheeks flushed crimson. I imagined he was still embarrassed at having to explain his run-in with the law, but he listened intently to every word that rolled off Webb’s tongue. His expression shuddered through excitement, seriousness and ended up in stolid as Webb explained the consequences. Webb, on the other hand, I couldn’t read.

“Ben, do you understand?” Webb repeated.

Ben rose from the couch and paced the floor in front of the desk.

“Answer him,” I begged.

He kept pacing with his hands in his jean pockets. My heart raced. If Ben didn’t agree then the Sentinels were going to kill him. I couldn’t let that happen. He was family now, Sam’s best friend. Plus, how could we tell Mr. Jackson that his son was dead? No, the only answer had to be yes. He had to agree to the rule that Webb laid out.