Blood Hunt (Blue Blood Babies sequel!)

Chapter Twenty-six

Chapter Twenty-six

“What the...”  I gasped. 

“Exactly.”  Ryan’s response was flat, hard.

This, apparently, wasn’t a surprise to him.  It was to me. 

We’d stopped at the brow of a hill.  A wide, flat plain spread out before us.  It should have been grassy, maybe dotted with sheep.  A few cows.  Instead, covering every surface, were the ragged, dirt-streaked tarps of make-shift tents and hastily cobbled-together huts made of rusting metal sheeting and half-rotten boards.  Rising out from the melee of temporary dwellings were the giant floodlights, initially intended to fool the ground, make it think the sun was shining down so crops would grow, it was now a life-source to this place, staving off the worst of the effects of never seeing the sun. 

That’s why they’d set up camp here.  When the blue pills had gotten scarce, people had hunted for another source of fake sunlight.  Smart, really.  But up here, staring down at it, all I could feel was sick.

It was like witnessing the end of the world.  The disaster was over, all that was left was the slowly, painful fading away of the poor suckers who’d survived. 

“Jesus,” I whispered.  Then, “How are we ever going to find Anna?”

Ryan pushed the car into gear.

“Call her,” he told me.  “Call her now.”

“But you said...” I thought I understood now why Ryan hadn’t wanted me to warn her before.  Even from this far away I could smell the desperation of the place.  There wasn’t exactly a shopping mall down there, a bank.  It was the sort of place that ran on bartering, trading.  Stealing.  Almost justified when it was take or die. 

We were like a gift house, rolling into town. 

I’d seen things like that on the news.  Aid trucks, driving into starving communities.  They’d be swamped, overrun.  And they’d lose everything; more than they’d intended to give. 

Was that going to be us?

“Call her,” Ryan prompted.  “I need to know where she is.”

I looked at him sharply.  I?

“Ryan-,”

“Call.  Her.”

I bit my tongue between my teeth, considering him, but then I yanked the phone out of my pocket, pulled up Anna’s number and hit dial.  It rang.  And rang.  My pulse broke out into a sprint as the crackling trill went on and on. 

“Hello?  Alfie?”

Relief flooded through me.

“Anna!”

“Where is she?” Ryan barked out beside me. 

I flashed a look at him.  His jaw was clenched, his gaze fixed dead ahead at the camp, which was looming before us, getting bigger and bigger, more and more frightening as we approached.  A fence ran around the perimeter, squashing everyone inside, protecting those at the edge from scavengers and plunderers, from outside the camp at least.

“Anna, where are you?

There was a pause.

“I told you,” she said slowly.  “I’m at the camp.  At Brintslow.”

“No, I mean where are you?  Like exactly?”

“Alfie?”

“I’m here, Anna.  I’m at Brintslow.”