“My god . . .” Jake said slowly.
Poor Chef . . .
“He seemed to be more than just wounded tonight, he seemed . . . sad,” Jake said solemnly.
“It has been decades since Chef last committed to battle. He is not the warrior he once was. Two hundred years ago he would have ripped through a dozen Makers without breaking a sweat.”
“Two hundred years?!” Jake exclaimed. “How old is he?!”
“He is well over a thousand years old.”
“Wow . . . I guess you aren’t that different from vampires after all,” Jake said, regretting it the minute he said it. “Wait I didn’t . . .”
Mr. Orwell stopped walking. “We are
nothing
like those monsters. We do not feed on human flesh. We do not burn to cinders if we step into the sunlight! These . . .
things
are abominations!”
“I’m sorry.” Jake placed a hand on Mr. Orwell’s shoulder. “I’m sorry if I insulted you, I didn’t mean it like that. After tonight I owe you and your family my life. I’m just . . . this is all very confusing and you have to understand, this is a lot to take in.”
Mr. Orwell stared hard at Jake, “I can only imagine,” he allowed. “I accept your apology.”
“Can I ask you something else?” Jake asked hesitantly.
“Of course.” He said starting to walk again.
“Mr. Orwell, who is Ivar Ragnarsson?”
“Ivar is a son of Ragnar. The older brother of Ubbe. He is a rebel to some, and a hero to others.”
“A son to Ragnar? So that was
him
in those black and white Civil War photos. Ragnar I mean. At first I thought they were just reenactment shots, but the one with Robert E. Lee . . . that really was him wasn’t it?”
“Yes.” Mr. Orwell nodded. “Ragnar served under General Lee during the war. Many of us did. Of course he didn’t go by Ragnar at the time.”
“How long have they been here?”
Mr. Orwell rubbed his chin thoughtfully, “I believe they came to these shores over nine hundred years ago. Give or take a decade or two.”
“Were they always, um, what do you call yourselves?”
“We are called Watchers. No, many centuries ago they were Viking warriors. Great leaders of men. Ragnar has never told me the story of how he was turned, but after coming here he and his sons lived in relative peace with the natives. That is until the arrival of the vampires. After that, a war ensued and many innocent natives under Ragnar’s protection were killed. Entire tribes wiped out. To end the slaughter a treaty was made.”
“Were you there for that?” Jake asked. “Did you see this war?”
“I did,” Mr. Orwell said sadly. “I was still mortal then, but I did witness it. My colony . . . my family . . . were casualties. Ivar and Ubbe saved my life. That is why I owe them my complete respect and devotion.”
“That’s why Ragnar won’t join with the Coalition,” Jake said thinking aloud. “Because of the treaty.”
“That is part of the reason, yes,” Mr. Orwell conceded. “Ragnar, with his sons at his side, agreed to enter into an arrangement with the leader of the vampires, a monster named Gaius. You probably know him better as Caligula. His kind would not cross or feed east of what is now called the Mississippi River, and in return we would not cross into their territory or interfere in their affairs. Another condition of the treaty was that we had to keep Caligula’s Maker, Tiberius imprisoned within our lands.”
“Wait a minute you’re telling me
you
are the ones that imprisoned Tiberius?” Jake said angrily. “Why? Why would you do something like that?!”
“Your concern for that creature disturbs me greatly,” Mr. Orwell stated. “He is after all only a vampire.”
“That
vampire
saved my life.” Jake said grinding his teeth. “You all knew I was being held there against my will and did
nothing
until it was nearly too late! Mr. Orwell, my God, I saw you every day and you didn’t even try to help me! If the vampires hadn’t attacked, how long would I have sat there before you helped me get free of that evil old man?”
“We cannot interfere with the affairs of humans, hence our name, the Watchers. We watch,” Mr. Orwell said sadly. “However, I cannot tell you how much it pained me to see you day after day under the thumb of that miserable man. I wanted more than anything to help you.”
“Yeah right,” Jake said sarcastically. “I can see you’re real torn up about it.”
“Think what you want,” Mr. Orwell frowned. “I am sorry for what you went through. But the fact remains that Tiberius
must
remain contained. If not think of the millions of lives that will be at risk if another war breaks out.”
“You are already at war!” Jake yelled. “I was there! I saw them cross your borders, I
saw
Macro’s coat of furs made from your people! The only one that doesn’t realize it is Ragnar. How many people have to die before he realizes that he’s the only one holding up his end of the agreement?”
“You are not alone in your feelings,” Mr. Orwell said. “Ivar as well was not happy with the agreement. He often made his feelings known, which in turn led to a great rift between he and his father.”
“That’s a plus for him in my book then,” Jake said.
“But look at what it cost him? A hundred and forty years ago, not long after the Civil War ended, he and his followers were exiled, never to return home again. Today they are mostly in hiding in Northern California, Oregon and Washington State. They’ve been in a cold war with the vampires for decades.”
“So if you can’t break the treaty, if you can’t cross the border, why did you come here? Why did you help us tonight?”
Mr. Orwell waited several seconds before answering. “Ragnar sent me here as an observer. If vampires discovered your camp and attacked, I was not to intervene. However, Chef’s involvement with your organization was unknown to us. So in a sense you see, I was not protecting you, I was protecting him.”
“Where
does
Chef fit into all of this?” Jake asked. “Is he one of Ivar’s followers?”
Mr. Orwell smiled. “You didn’t think Chef was his real name did you?”
“Chef is Ivar Ragnarsson?!”
“That’s why I protected him. Ragnar may be angry with his son, but he does not wish to see him killed.”
“Unbelievable,” Jake said as he stopped at the cabin.
Mr. Orwell sighed deeply. “Now I must say goodnight, Jacob. My family is waiting for me and I really don’t want to make the missus angrier than she already is.” Mr. Orwell shook his head. “She told me not to come here. I just couldn’t let go of what happened at Riker’s. This time I had to make sure you weren’t in over your head and after I discovered Ivar was here . . . whatever the cost, I did what I had to do.”
Jake sighed. “Well, thank you Mr. Orwell. Sincerely. I know it couldn’t have been easy for you, and I really hope that Ragnar doesn’t punish you for your actions. You don’t think he’d exile you like he did Chef do you?”
“Perhaps exile is what I need.” Mr. Orwell lowered his head. “Ragnar is a good friend to me, as is Ubbe. But many of our kind, Nathan and myself included, have become increasingly disappointed by their decisions to stay out of the fight.
“It was one thing to exile the vampires into a wilderness with only scattered tribes of natives to feed on. It is something else entirely now that the land has been settled and great cities, filled with millions dot the landscape.” A loud howl came from the darkness. “Ah the missus . . .” Mr. Orwell said looking off to his right. “Goodnight then, Jacob. Damn . . .” he said as an afterthought. “I still need to speak to the Instructors. Looks like I will be sleeping on the couch tonight. Ah well! I will see you for your normal lessons in a few hours. Do try and get some sleep.”
Jake grudgingly returned to his cabin where Donnie, Buck and Chris lay on their bunks wide-awake.
Jake lay down on his own bed, burying his head in his thin pillow. Mr. Orwell’s story and revelations ran rampant through his mind.
“You know,” Chris suddenly spoke. “It really makes you think.”
“About what?” Donnie asked.
“What else is out there that we don’t know about?”
“What? Like leprechauns and unicorns?” Buck snickered.
“Aliens,” Jake said rolling onto his back. “I’ve always been afraid of aliens.”
“Aliens?” Buck laughed. “You’re seriously afraid of
aliens
?”
“Yeah, well you won’t be laughing when they abduct you and stick a probe up your ass will you?”
Buck didn’t respond.
“What about werewolves?” Donnie said.
“Who knows? After tonight . . . nothing would surprise me.” Jake rolled onto his side and tried to put the violent death screams of the vampires out of his mind. It didn’t work.
Chapter 8
Jake
The Williams Ranch
May 30, 2001, 11:22pm
Jake sat on the edge of his bunk cleaning a mixture of sand and mud from his black army boots. Sitting across from him, Chris was doing the same. He looked over at Jake and closed his eyes before slowly shaking his head. Buck and Donnie were arguing again.
“I’m not doing it Buck!” Donnie was saying. “
We’re
not doing it! Do you have any idea what would happen if we got caught? Ortega would murder us!”
“I know, I know, but listen.” Buck put a hand on Donnie’s shoulder trying to placate him. “What’s the worst he could do? Training is over right? Tomorrow we all go home, so what’s the worst that could happen? They aren’t going to hang us from the gallows with our families in town. Hell we finished a full six months earlier than expected! Doesn’t that deserve a little reward? So let’s celebrate! Toss back a few beers . . . have a few laughs. For shits and giggles my man.”
“Yeah Donnie! For shits and giggles!” Jake repeated, holding back his laughter.
“See! Jake’s got the spirit!” Buck said, sitting down next to him and putting him in a headlock.
Jake shoved him away with a laugh. Donnie gave him a,
you’re not helping
look. But Jake couldn’t help but smile back at him.
Honestly, he could care less about ‘celebrating’. The team’s final test had all but exhausted him.
Together they’d cleared a house filled with their instructors. One by one the team was whittled down but so were their instructors until finally only Jake and Lucas remained.
Jake crawled through a mocked up attic no bigger than two and a half feet by two feet. It was like being buried alive. At the end of it had been Sergeant Lucas dressed completely in black. He slapped Jake hard across the face, and received a face full of paintball rounds for his trouble. As a last ditch effort Jake grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him through the ceiling.
Jake landed on him knocking the man unconscious. He’d dragged him out into the daylight to the cheers of his teammates. Sergeant Major Castle had slapped him on the back and congratulated him on a job well done. Once Sergeant Lucas regained consciousness he too congratulated Jake.
So if it were up to him he would just as gladly turn off the lights and go to bed. That seemed
much
more appealing than sneaking out and chance being caught by El Diablo.
From the exhausted look on his face, Jake could tell Chris felt the same way. But Jake wasn’t about to get in the middle of this argument. It would just make matters a hundred times worse.
“Donnie, just hear me out okay? My dad has a friend that works at a bar right on the outskirts of San Angelo. Used to be a Hunter, got hurt, my dad saved his life once . . . anyway, he said he’d hook me up any time I wanted. All we can drink! All we have to do is show up!”
“I don’t care what he is, what he was, or where the hell he works.” Donnie dropped to his bunk and began unlacing his boots. “We aren’t going. Grandpa would kill me if we snuck out!”
“Oh no!” Buck said, in a squeaky feminine voice. “Your mean old grandpa won’t let you have any fun! Ohhh!”
Jake had to cover his mouth to keep from laughing. Chris didn’t even try to hide it. It sometimes amazed him how easily they’d all learned to live with Buck.
He might be an asshole, but he’s our asshole,
seemed to be the general consensus.
A sharp knock came at the cabin door followed by girl’s voices. Donnie looked up from his boots giving Buck a hard stare. “You didn’t?”
Chris, whose bunk was closest to the door, stood and opened it to a very sexily clad Amber, Diana, and Whisper. “He did,” Chris said, then plopped back down on his bunk.
Dear Lord in Heaven!
Jake’s jaw literally dropped when Amber stepped into the room. She wore a tight fitting, low cut blue dress. Her hair, that was almost always tied back, was worn down across her shoulders. She caught him looking and smiled shyly. Jake quickly focused his eyes back on the dirty boot in his hands.
“What’s up homies?!” Diana said, playfully. “Why aren’t you guys ready?”
“Because we’re not going,” Donnie said, exasperated that he was now so greatly outnumbered.
“Would you stop playing big brother for two minutes?” Amber rolled her eyes. “It’s our last night, let’s go have some fun!” Buck put his arm around her and kissed her on the neck causing Jake to cringe inwardly.
“Look if you want to go, go. No one’s stopping you.” Donnie laid back on his bunk crossing his arms behind his head. “I’m staying here.”
“You’re the only one with a ride!” Buck said, “tell you what, give me your keys and me and the ladies will go.”
“Now I know you’re dreaming,” Donnie said, “there’s no way I’m giving you the keys to my baby.”
“You’re
baby
is an ’89 Chevy Silverado!” Amber said, laughing.
“Hey it’s more than what you’ve got!”
“What about you Jakey?” Diana interrupted. “You don’t want to have a night out on the town with three gorgeous hot babes?”
“Uh . . .” Jake stammered.
“Oh so we’re not hot?” she asked sitting down next to him.