The walls leading down the staircase were covered with two-inch thick sheets of titanium. It would take two of the other vampires to lift the cement slab that he had just lifted, and that would only be if they could get the proper footing to support themselves which they wouldn’t be able to do on that narrow staircase. Any of the other vampires that found themselves in this area would be stuck. They wouldn’t be able to lift the slab, nor would they be able to tunnel through the titanium walls. He had made it impossible for any of his staff to leave the compound unless he let them out.
Metcalf reached the bottom of the staircase and unlocked a four-inch thick titanium-reinforced security door that led into the compound, then entered the “cattle” pen area. This was where they housed their collection of transients, hookers, runaways, street people and illegals for daily milking; a total group of ninety such disposable people-or livestock as he thought of them. They were kept nine to a pen, with each pen being fifteen by fifteen feet and containing three army cots, along with a toilet and water faucet. The “livestock” were milked twice a day, taking a pint of blood during each milking. The average stay in a pen was six months-once they got ill or became too anemic to milk they would be drained of whatever blood they had left and disposed of; the same if they showed a hint of belligerence or disobedience. After each restocking there’d always be a few demonstrations needed before the rest would fall in line. Over time, though, they’d give up whatever faint hope they held and become merely ghosts-nothing more than shadows of their former selves. They’d never utter a word or dare to meet Metcalf’s eyes or show any resistance. Like cattle they would leave their cells when commanded and lie quietly during their milking.
Vanessa was taking a pint from one of the livestock. She nodded at Metcalf as he approached, he nodded back. She had been a prostitute before he infected her. Originally he had picked her up to be a replacement for one of the dead livestock, but he liked the way she looked-long red hair that fell halfway down her back, sultry lips, almond-shaped green eyes and a thin waist with near perfect legs. Her breasts were smaller than what he typically liked-no bigger than what would fit in a champagne glass, but they had a perky quality to them so he decided to overlook that flaw, and besides, the infection would shrink them anyway. The infection had since bleached out her hair and had shrunk her tits to the size of small apples, but she dyed her hair the same reddish color as before and even with the changes to her body that the infection caused, he still liked the way she looked. There was something else about her that he found himself instantly attracted to. It took him a while to figure out what it was, but he eventually understood it. In her own way she was as ruthless as he was, even reminding him a bit of Serena, although she wasn’t nearly as cunning or as crazy. Since the other vampires were complaining about how overworked they were-and because of his immediate attraction to her-he infected her and added her to the staff. He was glad he did. Unlike the others, she accepted her situation and never showed any self-pity. As far as her competency, well, she never really developed a touch for drawing blood and was rough with the livestock, but it didn’t much matter. She’d get a pint out of them regardless of how many times she had to poke them searching for a vein. And it was not as if any of them were going to complain. All in all, Metcalf was glad he chose to infect her instead of making her one of the livestock.
“I thought you were going to take me riding last night,” she said, not bothering to hide the hurt in her voice.
“Later this week maybe.”
Every Tuesday night he made it a habit to take her to the main house for sex, and he’d been hinting for a few months now that he’d take her riding soon. He had given her a tour weeks ago of his private lab so he knew she wouldn’t try escaping-she understood full well what the cost would be if she tried and was unsuccessful. Still, though, it was always a balance. He needed to give the staff occasional respites from the compound to keep them from going stir-crazy, or worse, to keep them from getting desperate enough to try breaking out, but on the other hand he couldn’t afford even a single rogue vampire on the outside. The mathematics of it were staggering. One vampire infecting the population would lead to a disaster of momentous proportions. If not carefully controlled by someone like Metcalf, the disease would spread exponentially and would eventually leave the ever-growing population of vampires with no livestock to feed from. His methods might be cruel but they were necessary.
“I really want to go riding with you,” she said with a half-pout. She looked up to meet his dead pale eyes and smiled in the well-practiced way she would with any other john. “I’ll make it worth your while tomorrow night if you take me.”
“What? You’ve been holding out on me?”
“No, I wouldn’t say that, but I’m sure I could come up with something creative if you gave me the proper incentive.”
“We’ll see,” he said, his voice turning gruff. “How’s the milking? Any of them dried up?”
“I’m still getting pints out of all them. This one’s been a stubborn fucker, though. It took me five minutes to find a vein.”
Metcalf looked down at the livestock. The near-ghost must’ve been a vagrant before he’d been picked up. His face was now as thin as a railroad spike, his beard sparse, his cheeks hollowed out and his eyes small as they remained buried within dark circles of ruined, grayish flesh. There wasn’t much left of him, another week or two of milking at the most. Metcalf scanned the glass walls separating the cattle pens from the milking area and spotted several other livestock who looked like they were going to need replacing soon. He felt no emotion about it-to him they really were never anything more than livestock to feed off of and dispose. Whatever empathy a normal human being was born with had always been missing from his makeup. That part of him hadn’t changed because of the infection. He knew Vanessa was the same-that was really the thing about her that he had felt instantly attracted to even if he didn’t understand it at the time, and it was why he’d been feeling more of a bond with her. It was also why she was the only member of the staff that he still had assigned to milking. The compassion that the other vampires showed the livestock made him sick. Because of this growing bond he’d been considering moving her to the main house permanently. It seemed to make sense, and besides, she was far better at sex than the other female vampires. Even before he brought her back to the compound, he’d been gradually losing interest in the others. Their constant sadness was becoming a real turn-off.
“We’re going to need to restock some of them soon,” Vanessa said. She hesitated for a moment, then somewhat boldly asked, “Maybe I can go with you?”
He nodded. These disposables were so damn plentiful in LA-picking them up was like shopping for a carton of eggs at the supermarket. So, why not.