“Actually, I just moved here a few years ago when I was appointed as Area Leader. I grew up in Boston,” he said as he took a left and the car neared the hospital.
“Oh, another town very important to our US Revolutionary War,” Cadence noted.
Christian was smirking at her again, and Cadence couldn’t help but ask what was so funny. “Nothing,” he replied. “I appreciate the effort.”
“I don’t detect a Boston accent, though,” Cadence mentioned, turning back to Andrew.
“Nah, around here, you kinda need to hide it,” Andrew answered, letting his true accent come through.”
“Hmmm, maybe I should start talking with a weird accent to confuse all of you,” Cadence muttered.
“You don’t think your Midwest accent is weird?” Christian asked.
“Be nice!” Cadence warned, glaring at him. “We are the breadbasket of America.”
“I think you mean ‘Merica,” Christian laughed, eliciting a glare.
They pulled into the hospital parking lot, and Andrew took them over to where the escape vehicle had been parked. He then proceeded to drive them down to the location where the bikes had lost track of the SUV. “The helicopter was seen over these woods, but we didn’t see if the SUV pulled in here or what happened to it.”
“This is the Delaware, correct?” Aaron asked.
“Yes, and that first river we crossed was the Schuylkill,” Andrew confirmed.
“And they’re sure they landed on this side of the Delaware?” Christian asked. “It seems like more people would have seen that.”
“There have been all kinds of reports coming from witnesses all the way from the hospital to I-95. I’m not sure what to believe,” Andrew replied.
“All right,” Aaron sighed. “Well, I think our next step is to pour over the maps in this specific area and see what we can find. We need to send a reconnaissance team out into the field to scour this area for any clues.”
“The police have done that,” Andrew reminded him. “They may have some information.”
“Good point. We’ll still send a team out, but we probably need to meet with them tomorrow as well.”
“What are we doing tonight?” Cadence asked.
“What we do best. Find some Vampires. Maybe we’ll find one who is willing to talk,” Aaron replied.
Cadence smiled. “Good idea. I can be very persuasive.”
“Yes, you can,” he agreed. “Let’s go back to headquarters and start delegating. Since we have no idea what our timeline truly is, we need to stay on top of things. Giovani could show up at any time, and we need to be ready.”
Gibbon was growing stronger; even in the few short hours since his Resurrection, he had become almost too powerful for the restraints on the bed to hold him. Rather than risk his own safety, Giovani had him moved to the special cell he had, had built in one of the old jewel safes. Now, secure to the wall by chains around his arms, and held at bay by steel bars, he was unable to access the rest of the team, but Giovani was able to work on his conditioning.
Sitting on his cot, pulling angrily against his chains, Gibbon resembled a junkyard dog. Giovani stood outside the bars, an eight-and-a-half-by-eleven photo of one Barbara Gibbon in his hands. “Look at her, Gibbon. Don’t you hate her?” he asked repeatedly. “Don’t you want to rip her heart right out of her chest?”
With each taunt, Gibbon grew more and more angry. He did not speak, but his groans of rage were enough to let Giovani know his plan was working. Even though Steven Gibbon had killed his step-mother years ago, slashed her throat in cold blood as she was out for an evening jog, he seemed to have no recollection of that. He had been killing his mother over and over again for the last several months. It should be fairly simple for Giovani to convince the mad man that Cadence Findley was his step-mother, even though she looked nothing like the woman in the picture.
“What are you going to do with this picture of Cadence?” Zabrina asked, holding it up but not approaching. She was sitting nearby, idly sharpening her fingernails with a file.
“Patience, love,” Giovani scolded. “That’s phase two. We’ll get to that later.”
“Whatever you say,” Zabrina replied, tossing the picture aside. It floated down from her nimble fingers and landed on the floor next to her boot.
“Pick that up!” Giovani screamed. “Zabrina, if you don’t want to help me, the least you could do is try not to interfere!”
“If I don’t want to help you?” Zabrina screeched. “All I’ve been doing is helping you! For the last year, all I’ve done is help you!”
“You’re not helping me!” Giovani barked back. “You’re only interested in helping yourself!”
“Oh my God!” she shrieked. “You are impossible! I don’t even think I can stand to be around you anymore; you’ve lost your mind!” Zabrina brought the heel of her boot down on Cadence’s picture, and Giovani ran over, shrieking, scooping it up as if she had stepped on a prized possession. “You’re mad!” Zabrina yelled in his face. He raised his hand as if he would strike her, and she retreated out of harm’s way. “If you decide you want to be reasonable, you know how to find me!” she called over her shoulder as she shot out the door.
“Oh, I know how to find you,” Giovani snarled. “You’ll be back. You always come back,” he muttered. He sat the picture of Cadence down on the table, gingerly, and then returned his attention to Gibbon, who was still pulling at his chains.
“Now, where were we?” he asked, holding up the picture of Barbara again. “Oh yes. Show me how much you hate your step-mother.”
Gibbon’s response was to pull so hard on his chains that one of them snapped free from the brick wall behind him. “Excellent,” Giovani smiled. “You’ll be ready in no time.”
