Out For Blood 50

Ella was stood at one of the first floor windows anxiously looking out, her arms were folded and she drummed her fingers heavily on her elbows. She knows that the others should have returned hours ago, or at least Zack should have been back by now, with or without them. The view she had was south straight down the centre of Main Street, but the torrential rain obscured almost half of its length.

On a sunny day she can see past the end of the street and into the trees beyond. Ella now felt she had no choice; she would have to tell the Primary One what had transpired over the last few hours. It was something she didn’t want to do; she didn’t want to burden him in his already fragile state. She took out her cell-phone and punched in the number for the cell-phone she had given to Dane before he and Sam had left. The recorded message she heard simply said “This number is currently unavailable, please try—” she pressed cancel and put the cell-phone back into her dress pocket and sighed wearily.

Ella left the window as watching was impossible for her today, she started to make her way down to where the steel hatch was situated. After she had descended the main stairway and gone into the kitchen she opened another hatch there and entered into the small basement. She paused for a few moments looking into the dark open shaft by her feet, and then using a foot she closed it; the hatch slammed shut bouncing two or three times and throwing up dust before finally settling. Ella then bolted it shut. Turning around she also closed and locked the door she had come through.

She didn’t want anyone seeing the Primary One as he was now, she didn’t want the others to know. After taking three long breaths she turned and went over to the steel hatch and pressed a sequence of buttons on a keypad, a small indicator light changed from red to green and a dull metallic clunk sounded as the door opened automatically; stopping at 90 degrees vertical.

Ella looked into the hole; soft amber light illuminated the steps leading to the inner chamber. She then descended; when she reached the bottom she pressed one of two buttons, open and close. The door closed almost silently, she then opened another door and entered. Immediately before her stood a four foot wooden pedestal, she reached out taking a pair of surgical rubber gloves from a steel tray and put them on… just in case.

Underfoot was a plush deep pile burgundy carpet, the walls were decorated in soft yellows and pale violets. To her left was an antique leather sofa and chair, behind that stood an ornate antique wood and glass cabinet. To her right was another cabinet itself filled with antique silver of many descriptions. To the left of that cabinet was an open fire that had long since burnt out, further left was a long table containing a wide range of lab apparatus.

Directly in front of Ella and across the room was a single bed, to the left of that bed was a small table and an old leather gurney, its straps left lying open ready for its next unsuspecting occupant. To the right of the bed was a wooden chair and a small set of drawers; standing next to the drawers was a device for measuring the bodies vital signs; the device was switched on, and running. Lying on the bed and attached to the machine was a gravely ill Thomas Martins.

A half empty drip bag containing uncontaminated blood from the girls they had taken recently intravenously fed him, and although the Leukemia was destroying his body he was still conscious. However, if Sam and Dane didn’t return soon with the girl it may be too late, too late for him… and the whole Collective. The old leather gurney was once again soon to be recalled for duty, and everything was ready for Ella to oversee the bone marrow transplant from Marianna to Martins, a procedure that Martins had assured her if such a donor existed… would cure him.

Currently his condition was very poorly and slowly deteriorating; his own immune system though once an impenetrable barrier, was no match for the killer disease that coursed through his body now.

Ella sat on the wooden chair and spoke softly to Martins. ‘Thomas… are you awake?’
Martins looked pale and very weak, his hair had greyed slightly and many thin lines had begun to show on his face. Although he was born in 1898, he looked no older than his early-fifties. The two injections he had sustained in 1919 had served him well, and were the reason he had not yet totally succumbed to the fatal Leukemia.

Martins slowly opened his eyes, his pupils had greyed over and the whites were dark yellow and heavily blood-shot. ‘I can’t see you Ella,’ he said, his voice weak and broken.
Ella put her hand over his on top of the bed. ‘I’m here Thomas, be strong.’
‘Has there been any word from—’
‘Yes,’ she lied. ‘I spoke to them an hour ago, they are returning as we speak.’
‘And is the sun shining today?’

Ella looked at the monitor beside the bed, her eyes following its green line as it peaked and troughed. ‘It is,’ she lied again. ‘The sky is blue and the air outside is warm.’
Ella couldn’t bring herself to tell him the true facts of the last day and night; if he recovered it wouldn’t matter. If he didn’t… she felt it mattered even less.

‘Are you in much pain Thomas?’ she asked knowing he was.
‘No, just uncomfortable, but soon I will be my very old self!’ He managed a smile. ‘Is everything ready for the transfusion?’
‘Everything is as you instructed Thomas.’
‘And are you certain you remember the procedure Ella?

‘Thomas, I have been through it so many times in my head, I feel as though I have already performed the transfusion a dozen times or more.’
‘And what of the others? Do any of them know of my condition?’

‘Only one other, the rest have no need to know. One or two have mentioned your absence though; I told them you are working on a new formula that would allow us to touch water again. They seemed very happy to accept that. So... if after I carry out the transfusion and when you’re well enough to surface, perhaps that might become a reality.’

‘If the girl is as you say she is… it will be a reality for all of us!’ At that he coughed, and although the pressure from his lungs was weak, a trickle of dark almost black blood oozed from his nose.

Ella took a clean swatch of white cloth from the top drawer by her side and after wiping away the blood she tossed it into a small waste bin under the bed. She then let go of Martins hand and stood. ‘I must leave now, they will be here soon and I need to ready myself!’
‘Very well, I look forward to your return.’

Ella took off the surgical gloves and put them in the waste bin also. She took a last look at Martins and then pushing the gurney further left of the bed she drew a misted plastic curtain between the two, she then left the room closing the door behind her. When she climbed from the hatch she entered the same sequence of buttons and the hatch closed slowly, locking with another dull metallic clunk.

She looked down at the bolted wooden hatch and considered reopening it, but somehow she knew the others were not coming back. It was now time to send out a killer, if that investigator was causing all this… it was time he was stopped... for good.

Ella joined the others upstairs and snapped her fingers loudly in the ear of one of them, this brought him back from watching, she then told him to join her in the basement in five minutes. The others continued looking from the windows, oblivious as to all that was going on.

The one she had chosen was named Brett, he was to be armed with a shotgun and sent into the tunnel to shoot to kill anything that moved, and to not bother bringing back any bodies, even if they were members of the Collective. Although the latter she doubted very much.