Blood

15. Escape Plans

When we got to the island I jumped overboard just before Amira drove the boat into the boathouse. The water was cold and dark but my clothes were stiff with dried blood and I had to get it off me somehow.

I swam to some rocks and scrambled ashore, dripping wet but not so bloody anymore. It helped to be clean, but I knew I'd be having nightmares for a long time and maybe I'd never really get the smell of blood off me ever again.

I came out of the water shivering, and not just because I was cold. Don't think about it, I told myself as I began to run through all the fighting and all the people I'd... Just don't, I thought.

And then another voice in my head said, You're right. Better to focus on what to do next. Live in the future, not the past. None of it was your fault.

It was Amira, waiting for me on the shore. "That was very poetic," I said. But for once It didn't bother me that she was listening in on my thoughts.

"Come on," she said. "I'll get you some dry clothes. I keep things here because my grandfather comes out every weekend to take care of things and I usually come too."

"I don't do girly," I said.

She chuckled.

Once I'd changed into a pair of her jeans—old and a little baggy but she explained they were for chores—and I'd put on a long-sleeved T and a black hoodie (I guess black hoodies were her thing), we went through the now crowded main lounge and down the stairs to the tactical room.

Her grandfather was standing with several other adults behind Hedges, who was seated at the big screen, toggling through a dozen different windows and occasionally taking a bite from a half eaten ham sandwich on a paper plate beside him. He was definitely in his element. My mom definitely wasn't in her element. I spotted sitting in a corner of the lounge looking like she really didn't belong. I felt sorry for her...but I couldn't worry about that now.

"The agency's budget has grown rapidly," Hedges was saying. "But it's not so clear what they do. Homeland Security describes their mission as, uh, 'gigantocuspid terrorism' it says here, which I guess means fanged terrorists in Washingtonspeak. They used to do only research and monitoring, but a few years ago the funding for strike teams started. Also they began to fund a research center in, uh, the state of Maine. Bio Enhanced Troops it says they're working on, BET for short. Do you suppose they were going to take everyone to Maine?

"Their vans had Maine plates," I said. I remembered because I'd thought that was weird. "Uh, Hedges, whose cell phone is that?" It was wired into the computer Hedges was using.

"I found it on the floor in the police station," Hedges said. "It belongs to an agent. I'm working on it in this window." He clicked the mouse and opened up a window that had been minimized on the big screen. "I'm downloading texts, emails, and telephone numbers, anything I can get off it in a hurry. Then we'll have to destroy it so they don't trace us. Look, here's his latest texts. Uh, that's weird." Hedges was frowning at the screen. "This must be from someone at headquarters. They're sending more teams. Damn. By helicopter. How long will that take? And, uh, Falc, you might not want to read the next text."

"Why?" I leaned over.

My name was there. It said, "The informant's niece, Falcon, has the super gene we've been looking for! I'm watching her take out three teams right now. I'll take her alive if I can or if not I'll harvest samples from her. Bring more teams as soon as possible."

Shit. I couldn't believe it. Not only were they catching vampires, they seemed to be looking specifically for ones like me, whatever exactly I was. Is that why Uncle Asshole was keeping tabs on me? Is that why he led them here? But if they wanted me alive, why was a team of assassins sent to my house?

Then I remembered. The agents had pistols in their shoulder holsters, but also hip holsters with air guns. So, they were probably going to kill anyone they didn't want, like Mom since she's not exactly warlike. And fill me full of tranquilizers.

"I'm not a killer," I said. "Uh, except today I guess. And I don't want the government to make super soldiers from my blood!"

"Not to mention your organs and genes," Hedges added. "Jesus! Do you mind?"

"I'm just reading the next text," he said. "It says, 'If you can't bring her back alive, be sure to harvest the following: Blood, spleen, liver, lungs, bone marrow...'" he looked up. "Just about everything but your brain, Falc."

I sat down hard in the nearest chair. It felt like somebody had knocked the wind out of me.

Amira's grandfather leaned over to read the screen, then stood and backed away. "I was afraid of this," he said. "Amira. Come with me!" And then he was jogging (quite impressive given his age) up the stairs.

Amira pushed a quick Sorry! into my head, fiddled with one of the smaller computers for a minute, then hurried after him.

Sorry for what? I thought back at her, but there was no answer.

"We'd better get ready to evacuate," one of the remaining men said, and then they were hurrying up the stairs too.