a vampire, what did it do to a
living
man?
The chupacabra's venom restored the life it took, giving the resulting vampire certain of its own traits in return—specifically the need to survive on blood. Clearly, Mac had received enough of the venom's restorative properties to heal him. Even old injuries seemed better, she thought, remembering how his limp appeared less pronounced.
What other changes were taking place? Would he, too, need to drink blood to survive?
A flicker outside the window distracted her from the disturbing thought. Walking over to peer through the crack in the curtains, she saw Dirk and his men gathered around a bonfire and knew they were burning the bodies.
Feeling suddenly stifled in the room, she logged off and went outside. The firefighter in her felt compelled to check that the fire was at no risk of spreading to the surrounding jungle. It wasn't that she didn't think the men knew what they were doing as much as she needed the excuse to get out of the building and do something.
"Ms. Weber." Dirk Adams inclined his head when she walked up to him a few minutes later.
"Lanie, please." She walked upwind of the smoke, wanting to avoid the stench. Doing a cursory visual inspection to assure herself that it was a controlled fire, she averted her gaze, preferring to focus on Dirk's face rather than the charred bodies being consumed by the flames.
"Where's our boy?"
Lanie smiled. Given Mac's size and personality, she wasn't sure "boy" was the right description for him. "He's sleeping. I'm not sure he's recovered from his attack," she hurriedly added, not wanting this man to think any less of Mac.
Dirk nodded, but his expression grew concerned as he studied her. "How are you doing?"
"I'm…" She paused, not really sure how she was doing. Dirk apparently seemed to understand because he gave her a sympathetic smile.
They stood in silence until the fire died down. Two men, one with a shovel and another holding the garden hose, stood nearby, ready to douse the last of the embers when needed. Beside her, Dirk checked his watch and Lanie thought he looked anxious. "Is something wrong?"
He glanced at her as if trying to decide what to tell her. "One of my men, Hector Munoz, is missing. He never came back from our search for Burton. A couple of the guys found what was left of his shirt lying in a patch of mangled underbrush. It was ripped to shreds and covered in blood. I sent another group out to look for him, but I don't hold out much hope. This part of the jungle is largely unknown." He fell silent for a moment, his thoughts clearly elsewhere. Then he glanced at his watch. "It's almost noon and we'll have to leave soon."
"What about your man?"
Dirk's jaw tightened as he took a breath and let it out. "I don't think there's anything left of him to find."
She nodded, understanding. Burton and her father weren't the only wild creatures lurking out there.
"You might want to wake Mac. He said he wanted to get to the airfield before dark, and if we don't leave soon, we won't make it."
Lanie returned to the room and found that Mac hadn't moved. The sound of his breathing came slow and steady.
"Mac, it's time to wake up." She spoke softly, so as not to startle him, but he didn't budge.
"Mac?" She raised her voice a little, but still he didn't stir. Laying her hand on his arm, she shook him gently—then again, but more forcefully.
Nothing seemed to penetrate his sleep. Frustrated, she crossed the room to the windows and threw open the curtains to let the sunlight in. Before she could turn around, she heard a strangled cry, followed by a loud thump. Whipping around, Lanie saw that Mac was gone, the rumpled sheets of the bed the only evidence that he'd been there.
"Mac?"
"What the hell are you doing?" His strangled yell came from the floor on the far side of the bed where she couldn't see him. "Trying to blind me?"
Lanie looked around at the room's soft, warm glow and frowned. "It's not that bright in
living
man?
The chupacabra's venom restored the life it took, giving the resulting vampire certain of its own traits in return—specifically the need to survive on blood. Clearly, Mac had received enough of the venom's restorative properties to heal him. Even old injuries seemed better, she thought, remembering how his limp appeared less pronounced.
What other changes were taking place? Would he, too, need to drink blood to survive?
A flicker outside the window distracted her from the disturbing thought. Walking over to peer through the crack in the curtains, she saw Dirk and his men gathered around a bonfire and knew they were burning the bodies.
Feeling suddenly stifled in the room, she logged off and went outside. The firefighter in her felt compelled to check that the fire was at no risk of spreading to the surrounding jungle. It wasn't that she didn't think the men knew what they were doing as much as she needed the excuse to get out of the building and do something.
"Ms. Weber." Dirk Adams inclined his head when she walked up to him a few minutes later.
"Lanie, please." She walked upwind of the smoke, wanting to avoid the stench. Doing a cursory visual inspection to assure herself that it was a controlled fire, she averted her gaze, preferring to focus on Dirk's face rather than the charred bodies being consumed by the flames.
"Where's our boy?"
Lanie smiled. Given Mac's size and personality, she wasn't sure "boy" was the right description for him. "He's sleeping. I'm not sure he's recovered from his attack," she hurriedly added, not wanting this man to think any less of Mac.
Dirk nodded, but his expression grew concerned as he studied her. "How are you doing?"
"I'm…" She paused, not really sure how she was doing. Dirk apparently seemed to understand because he gave her a sympathetic smile.
They stood in silence until the fire died down. Two men, one with a shovel and another holding the garden hose, stood nearby, ready to douse the last of the embers when needed. Beside her, Dirk checked his watch and Lanie thought he looked anxious. "Is something wrong?"
He glanced at her as if trying to decide what to tell her. "One of my men, Hector Munoz, is missing. He never came back from our search for Burton. A couple of the guys found what was left of his shirt lying in a patch of mangled underbrush. It was ripped to shreds and covered in blood. I sent another group out to look for him, but I don't hold out much hope. This part of the jungle is largely unknown." He fell silent for a moment, his thoughts clearly elsewhere. Then he glanced at his watch. "It's almost noon and we'll have to leave soon."
"What about your man?"
Dirk's jaw tightened as he took a breath and let it out. "I don't think there's anything left of him to find."
She nodded, understanding. Burton and her father weren't the only wild creatures lurking out there.
"You might want to wake Mac. He said he wanted to get to the airfield before dark, and if we don't leave soon, we won't make it."
Lanie returned to the room and found that Mac hadn't moved. The sound of his breathing came slow and steady.
"Mac, it's time to wake up." She spoke softly, so as not to startle him, but he didn't budge.
"Mac?" She raised her voice a little, but still he didn't stir. Laying her hand on his arm, she shook him gently—then again, but more forcefully.
Nothing seemed to penetrate his sleep. Frustrated, she crossed the room to the windows and threw open the curtains to let the sunlight in. Before she could turn around, she heard a strangled cry, followed by a loud thump. Whipping around, Lanie saw that Mac was gone, the rumpled sheets of the bed the only evidence that he'd been there.
"Mac?"
"What the hell are you doing?" His strangled yell came from the floor on the far side of the bed where she couldn't see him. "Trying to blind me?"
Lanie looked around at the room's soft, warm glow and frowned. "It's not that bright in
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