Cain's Blood (21 page)

flash of light and noise. When the darkness returned, the
thing in the doorway had already vanished back into the
night with it.
Castillo fired two more times to make sure.
he’d rolled behind Jeff’s bed as he’d shot, chasing away that last

clutch of sleep, ignoring his confusion and shock of the door bursting
open to put three bullets into his anonymous target. Whatever the hell
it was. he’d worked Special Ops for ten years, on missions from Angola
to Syria, and had never once fired at an unidentified target. until now.

This guy had simply felt like something he was supposed to shoot.
And familiar, almost.
The last two bullets had a moment ago chased after the retreating form as the door frame splintered out into the night. It’d moved
so damn fast. Castillo steadied the gun over Jeff’s still form beneath his
arms. Tried to figure out if the kid was dead.
Hadn’t Jeff screamed?

Someone
had screamed, a terrible sound. Castillo allowed that it
might have been himself, and he focused even harder on waking himself completely. had he simply shot the boy by mistake?
Or on purpose?
The dreams. Such horrible dreams. had he imagined the whole thing?
Nope. Castillo reached out with his free hand and felt the kid’s skinny
leg. “hey, kid.” he shook him. “Jeff . . .”

“I’m good! I—”
“Quiet,” Castillo snapped, and clambered over the foot of the bed
toward the doorway. he kept low to the curtained window, clinging to
the same darkness to which his enemy had recently retreated. “Get behind the bed.”
he stole a glance out the door into the parking lot. Light from the
La Quinta sign above cast a yellow sheen over the empty sidewalk and
every car in the lot. The whole world looked jaundiced and diseased.
Castillo cursed.
When exactly did I become the prey?
A fence rattled in the distance and Castillo gave chase.
“Stay put,” he shouted back into the room.
his bare feet slapped loudly against the walkway as he sprinted
toward the chain-link fence. Something ripped into his heel. he could
see where the top of the fence still trembled, as if someone had climbed
over a moment before. he quickly scanned the cracked doorway he
passed, and then the ashen face behind a barely drawn curtain in the
next room. No threat, only curious tourists alarmed by the clamor. Too
afraid, too smart, to come out and do anything about it. The police
would arrive soon, he knew.
he crossed the parking lot onto weed-covered dirt and finally
reached the fence. fingers of his free hand wrapped the links separating him from a deeply shadowed hill of weeds and an empty exit ramp.
No blood on the fence or ground that he could spot. he thought about
jumping it. Then his training kicked back in, and he shoved personal
emotion aside.
“That’s it,” Castillo said, catching his breath for the first time since
springing awake. “Cops and robbers ends now.”
he’d shot the man.
I must have put at least two into the fucker.
he
backed from the fence, tucking the pistol in the front waist of his jeans,
keeping his fingers around the handle. Police would arrive in two,
maybe five, minutes. he lowered his head, hurried past the other rooms.
“hey,” someone dared from one of the darkened doorways. “What
the hell’s—”
Castillo turned to the voice, and the man stalled midsentence.
“Bunch of kids took off that way,” Castillo said, waved toward the fence,
moving past toward his room. “firecrackers, looks like.”
“God damn kids,” the man’s voice trailed after him.
You have no idea,
Castillo mused. But had it been one of the “kids”?
One of his targets? Couldn’t have been, moved too fast.
Something worse?
he darted back into his room, pulled the door shut behind him. It
bounced back freely on its newly busted hinges. “Get your—”
“Good to go,” Jeff said in the darkness. he’d already pulled his own
bag together and was working on Castillo’s. “Thought you’d want us
moving,” he added, looking over his glasses. his hair was tousled and
pillow-shaped. he looked all of ten years old.
“Thought I told you to get behind the damn bed,” Castillo said.
Still, he couldn’t help but smile. The kid was smart. Never complained.
eager to learn, to always do the “right” thing. Any parent would be
thrilled to have a kid like this.
Does any of that other shit matter? That these
same cells once ate dead flesh and fucked skulls
?
“I just thought—”
Castillo looked away. “Thanks, man. Good idea. you alright?”
Jeff nodded. “What
was
that?” he asked.
“Who,” Castillo corrected, even as he noted that the boy had also
felt the guy’s
wrongness,
too. “I don’t know.” he crossed the room, pondering. Baffled. Something about their enemy, something still somewhat outside the periphery of his memory. “We’ll talk about it later.
I’m gonna have to deal with the local cops now. There’s a Waffle house
about half a mile that way. Go.” he grabbed his wallet and fished out a
twenty. “Buy breakfast. I’ll get there as soon as I can. Ok?”
“Ok.”
Castillo smiled again. No questions, no back talk. The kid did as he
was asked so easily. he’d have been a good soldier in another life. “you
sure you’re not hurt or—”
“I’m good,” Jeff said, lowered his head, and grabbed his book bag.
“um, how long will you be?”
“I’ll get there as soon as I can.”
“Sure.” Jeff opened the door and stepped into the sickly buttery
light. “Thanks, Castillo.”
Castillo half shut the broken door behind him and flipped on the
light to check the room again. Where the door frame had taken a bullet. he finished tossing the rest of his own things into his bag. Some
clothes. The Murder Map. Pictures of the family recently murdered in
Delhi, Colorado.
he pulled out his cell and made the call.
“Castillo.” It was 3:00 a.m., but Colonel Stanforth’s voice was clear
and alert.
“yes, sir.”
“Didn’t expect to hear back from you so soon. What’s the situation?”
“Don’t know, sir. I think one of them might have tried to kill me
tonight.”
“But I’m talking to you, ain’t I, kiddo?”
“you are, sir. I gave chase, but he escaped.” Castillo pictured the
dark shape sweeping into the room. Something glittering in its hands.
knives, he supposed. But something else was off . . . the guy’d moved
like a ghost, floating across the darkness toward him. Again, familiar.
No! It’d been toward the boy, Castillo now realized. Toward Jeff. “real
hollywood, sir. Son of a bitch kicked in the door. Big blades twirling.
Woke up in time. Pretty sure I dropped him, but—”
“Castillo,” Stanforth stopped him. “Where are you?”
“Illinois. Town called Olney.”
“fine, fine. Locals on the way?”
“Affirmative. I took a couple shots at—”
“Clear out. We’ll, ah, clean up with you offsite. And . . .”
“yes, sir.” Castillo stopped packing, really focused on the call for
the first time. Something he’d noticed again in Stanforth’s voice. “Sir?
Come again?”
“you alone, Castillo?”
“yes, sir,” he said quickly, adding feigned surprise to his reply.
What
did Stanforth mean?
Jeff?
Impossible
.
unless . . .
God damn.
The tracking chips!
he’d completely forgotten about the tracking chips. Jacobson’s hidden clones didn’t seem to have them or the gang at DSTI would have
already collected them all. But Jeff was something different—Jacobson’s
adopted son. he was official, just like the six who’d cut theirs out before
going rogue. Would Jacobson have implanted a chip in his own son?
Castillo’d never even considered it. But now the chip had led DSTI
straight to them both.
Damn, damn it! Stupid, Castillo. You fucked up bad.
Stanforth asked again: “No one else was with you tonight?” Castillo
heard the confusion in his commander’s voice.
“No, sir,” Castillo said.
“Olney,” the colonel repeated. “you know what, Castillo, cancel that
last. hold until they arrive, is that clear?”
“
Who
arrives?”
And just like that: The Turn. The one Castillo’d always secretly expected but never dared imagine would actually happen.
“Buy some time with the locals. I’ll get someone out as soon as I can
to help clean up.” Stanforth laughed—a terrible, forced sound. “Don’t
worry about it, kiddo,” he said. “you’re doing fine. We’ll get this mess
sorted out soon enough. hang tight. We’ll be right there.”
“Thank you, sir,” Castillo said and hung up. “Asshole.”
It was over. All of it. he’d heard it in the voice, the instructions.
Stanforth had just decided to sell him out. If he waited for whoever
showed up, anything could happen. he’d be in
THEIR
control. No
better off than Jeff Jacobson or edward Albaum or any of them. he’d
trusted Stanforth with his life for twelve years and now couldn’t dare
give him another fifteen minutes.
he grabbed his bag and stepped out the door.
The world waiting outside somehow even more yellow. More diseased.

hey broke into the Glenmoore Animal hospital twenty
miles away from the motel in Olney. Jeff watched in the
shadows while Castillo hacked the alarm and opened the
back door. There were just four dogs caged inside, barking as one and loud enough to wake half the state. Castillo told Jeff

to find them treats while he looked around some. In five minutes, the
dogs were quietly munching biscuit mounds and Castillo was testing
something called a Dr 3500 Digital Navigator Plus, the clinic’s sole
X-ray machine. In another ten minutes, Jeff was up on the table, looking
skeptical. “The alternative involves cutting,” Castillo said. “Trust me on
that.”

They x-rayed his feet first, which was where the other boys had had
their chips injected. Nothing. They took another dozen close digital
shots of different body parts. hands. Legs. Neck.
Nothing
.

Castillo repositioned the machine’s floating tube stand. “And if they
find you, will that matter?” he took another X-ray. Jeff stayed quiet for
the rest of the undertaking.

“you’re clean,” Castillo told him. he seemed disappointed, like Jeff
had done something wrong. “Can’t find a damn thing.”
“how did it find me?”
“
He,
” Castillo corrected again. “
They
. I don’t know.” Castillo deleted
the images, had already tossed the clinic’s two laptops and a box filled
with various canine drugs to make it look like a routine break-in.
They now slumped across from each other on the office floor, Castillo with his back against a desk and his legs outstretched, Jeff crosslegged. each had a dog resting at his side, piles of treats on the floor
between them.
“What now?” the boy asked.
“What now? What now . . .” Castillo distractedly scratched at the
dog nestled beside him.
“you gonna quit? The mission.”
“If those have become my orders, sure. Don’t know if they are yet.”
“But you’re not answering your phone. Is that, like, legal? Won’t
you get in trouble?”
“Already am. They know you’re with me. I don’t know how. But
they do. I can probably talk myself out of that.” he shrugged.
So damn
tired.
“The real problem is that their objectives keep expanding. And
never mind me. I think it may have gotten beyond what even Stanforth
can do. That’s the real danger. If he feels he’s lost control of this thing,
he’ll fucking torch all of it. Including me.”
“And me.”
Castillo would not deny it. “remember the Albaums?”
“edward Albaum. Serpent Mound.”
“right. Their names came over the feed a couple hours ago. They
were reported dead last night.” Castillo eyed him from across the room.
“house burned down. fire started in the garage. Old paint cans. Community in grief. et cetera, et cetera.”
“Burned down? But the bad kids killed them before we even got
there.”
“
Seven
days ago.”
“Did . . . did DSTI burn their house down?”
“Someone did,” Castillo nodded. “I’ll bet lots of adoptive parents
vanish soon and that DSTI’s missing some more employees at this year’s
Christmas party.”
“God,” Jeff said. “Can these people just do whatever they want?”
“yes.”
“What’s that mean for us?”
“That your dad was right. you’re a liability. A lot of people are now.
I’m one now too, it seems. I get a feeling that if they catch either one of
us . . .”
“What do we do?”
“Maybe we’re not a ‘we’ anymore. Maybe it’s time for you to just go
your way, and I’ll go mine. What do you think about that?”
Jeff looked away.
“I don’t like it either,” Castillo said.
“you don’t?”
“Nah. I think if we went our own ways, you’d be dead in about
forty-eight hours tops. I might last a couple weeks.”
“Oh.”
“I’ll need to check in again eventually. I know enough to be dangerous to them. I have enough skills, maybe, to still be of value. I’ve
been loyal for fifteen years. I just . . . you heard about what happened
in SharDhara. All anyone should care about today is that these guys got
ahold of some bad, bad stuff. Maybe, I don’t know, maybe if I can find
them, I can still clear this up.”
“My dad gave it to them, didn’t he? This ‘stuff.’”
Castillo looked back at the boy, struggled for the next words. “I
don’t know. Don’t care. If we don’t find it, many people could die. everyone assumes from the ripper note they’ll be in San francisco on the
fourth. And, or, D.C. and Detroit. That’s three weeks. But I don’t think
we have that long to make my bosses happy.”
“Couldn’t you just find them on the Murder Map again?”
“Sure, sure. But mostly I’d be chasing dead bodies for the next
three weeks. Likely off route 50 now, and we were
always
one step behind them anyway. Maybe we get lucky again. henry was the only one
going for the Sizemore kid. The rest, he said, were probably already in
California. It’s a start, I guess. And a ‘start’ is fine when you have
months
.
There’s just not enough time to do really anything. Just . . .” he closed
his eyes, mumbled to himself in thought.
Jeff waited, and he thought Castillo had maybe fallen asleep.
But then his eyes sprung open again. “fuck,” he grunted. “yeah . . .
Still, I think our best way out now is through.”
“What do you mean?”
“Means I need to stop bitching and finish the damn mission. regardless of the time crunch, I gotta fuckin’ ‘fix’ things.”
“find the other guys?”
“yup. And stop whatever’s supposed to happen July fourth.”
“find my dad.”
“yeah, that, too. And I think if we do all that, then . . .”
Jeff chuckled.
Castillo smiled back. “right? Just catch all the bad guys. Save the
world . . .”
“Then maybe they’ll leave us alone?”
Castillo looked down and spoke at the dog. “Sounds reasonable,
doesn’t it?”
“So, then. . . . What do we do?”
“Beats the shit out of me.”
“Oh.”
“Need to sleep some first, I think. It’s been . . .” Castillo rubbed at
his eyes. They felt like bare slits. “Crash here an hour. Then we’ll get
moving again.”
“West.”
“Might as well. Let’s try to get some sleep first, Ok?”
“Oh,” Jeff reached into his book bag. “here.” he handed back the
worn copy of
The Odyssey
.
“you’re done with it?”
“Sure. And you, um, like to read it sometimes before you sleep.”
Castillo reached for the book, smiled wearily. “Try to tell myself it
relaxes me.”
“Does it?”
“Mostly. Obviously, not always.” he tucked it aside. “Not even
gonna try tonight.”
“Did she give this to you?”
“Who’s that?”
“kristin. She gave you this book, didn’t she?”
Castillo closed his eyes. “yeah, she did.”
“you guys used to date?”
“Get some sleep, Jacobson.”
“Thought so. how come you—”
“She was already married.”
“Oh.”
“Oh.”
Jeff slumped down on his side, reached out to pet a napping dog.
“Good night, Castillo.”
“hey . . .” Castillo opened his eyes again.
“yeah.”
“Where would you go to meet girls?”
“I’m probably gay, remember?” Jeff made a silly face. “how would
I know?”
Castillo smiled back. “Dude . . . seriously: Where? She . . . kristin
said some of the guys would be looking for girls. Specifically said Ted.
Two days ago, they found the body of emily Collins. Cops are saying she and some unidentified boyfriend butchered her whole family.
Where would they go to pick up girls?”
Jeff thought about it. “Toss over your phone.”
“Why?”
“‘Cause I know a way to meet girls.”
Castillo got up from the floor. “facebook,” he said.
Jeff mimed a slow clap.