Author’s Note:

  This episode is published here up to the 75% mark.

  The remaining chapters—including the climax and aftermath—are available in the complete episode on Amazon.

  https://www.royalroad.com/amazon/B0GKQPKHJS

  Thank you for reading and supporting the series.

  ###

  The tugboat shuddered as it punched north across the Pacific Ocean. The tugboat’s rusted hull groaned with every swell it plowed through. Sawyer kept his eyes on their six o’clock hoping he wouldn’t see the Panamanian Guard chasing them with another helicopter.

  Since killing General Isandro, Sawyer didn’t see any lights in the sky; instead, he saw the beams of flashlights sweeping across the distant port. By now, they would have found the bodies they left behind—even the soldier with two fang marks on his neck from where Sawyer bled him dry.

  Cormac gripped the cracked wheel of the tugboat, soaked in the spray of sea water. The old diesel engine rumbled like a dying beast. Way behind them, Colón was smothered in the pre-dawn haze. They heard the distant sirens which howled faintly; red and blue lights strobed and reflected off the water.

  Sawyer crouched beside the wheelhouse, panting. He didn’t see any helicopters or pursuing coast guard patrols, but he kept his head on a swivel anyways. The primary sounds came from the distant thunder of waves. The rising tide of morning light bled across the black water. If the sun revealed itself, cresting the horizon, the light could wash over his skin and any exposed skin would burst into flames.

  By that point, Ashley was long gone having went her own way. That was fine with Sawyer. By then, he learned that she played her own games. She was always so secretive and extremely independent—even though they were playing on the same team with the same objective: unravel Harland Morrow’s operation in Panama, use him to reverse their vampirism, and then destroy him.

  The sun was coming. The horizon softened. One by one the stars above disappeared as the sky was painted in ever lighter shades of blue.

  “Keep to the coast,” Sawyer said sharply. His eyes were pinned to the gray line splitting the sea and the sky. “We need to find somewhere to land, somewhere with cover. If the sun finds me, I’m quite literally toast.”

  Cormac didn’t respond. He hunched over the wheel like he didn’t hear him. His jaw was clenched tight. The boat dipped over a wave. Cormac grabbed the metal railing for balance. He spat on the deck by his feet.

  “Cormac. Are you listening? I said we need to reach the coast. Run us along the shore. Look for an inlet. We don’t have long before the sun rises.”

  His brother remained silent.

  After another couple of seconds of silence that angered Sawyer, Cormac finally spoke. “How long does it take?”

  Sawyer blinked. “I don’t know, we’re several miles from the shore. How fast are we going?”

  “No—not that. How long does it take for the sun to kill a vampire?”

  The words hit Sawyer like a bullet to the heart.

  Sawyer stared at him. “Are you seriously asking that? Why don’t you just keep driving into the sunrise and we’ll find out, if you’re so curious.”

  Cormac looked over his shoulder. His face was slack with something like anger, confusion, and maybe a little disgust mixed in. “I’m just asking. Is it fast? Is there flame and ash, like poof and gone, or is it slow and painful? Do you melt into pieces?”

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  Sawyer’s throat tightened. “If I’m caught in the sun it will cook me alive in a flash. Now turn the boat around.”

  Cormac’s grip on the wheel didn’t move. “I’ve seen guys melt before. In Iraq. White phosphorus. One guy stumbled into a burning Humvee and his face started dripping off. He couldn’t even scream. That’s what I keep picturing.”

  Sawyer lurched forward. He grabbed Cormac’s shoulders and spun him around then stuck his finger in his brother’s face. “You want to see me die? Is that what this is? I know what you’re thinking. I’m not a monster, Cormac. I’m still me.”

  Cormac flinched, but he refused to back down. “I saw what you did back at the port to that GCP soldier. You sucked him dry like a Capri Sun. I wanted to vomit. If dad could see what you’ve become—”

  Sawyer’s lips curled. “—Dad isn’t here—and I was starving.”

  “You were an animal.”

  “You want me to go full monster mode? I have to feed to prevent that. Can’t you understand? Better to feed on a GCP than some innocent kid.”

  Cormac scoffed. He bared his teeth. “You’ve already lost the plot, man. Look at you. You’re like a junkie. You’re all twitchy and pale.”

  Sawyer’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t lecture me. I never asked for this. Harland Morrow did this to me. I’m tracking Ashley, and the next thing I know I’ve been bitten and wake up in a coffin with this curse. I wasn’t seeking it out.”

  “No, you didn’t ask for it. But then again, you never really hesitate when it comes to your cravings. Do you? I’m beginning to think you’re enjoying being a vampire. It’s sickening.”

  Sawyer formed fists. “Say one more thing.”

  “Or what? You’ll attack me and drain me next? Go ahead. Let’s see how far gone you really are. Prove me right.” Cormac’s silver knife was still sheathed on his ankle, but he wasn’t reaching for it just yet. If he managed to stab Sawyer with it, that would kill him as effectively as the sun.

  The boat groaned. The sound of breaking waves filled the space.

  Sawyer breathed hard.

  “I’m still your brother,” Sawyer said, voice ragged. “You don’t get to look at me like I’m already dead. If this happened to you, I wouldn’t stop until I’ve found a way to reverse it. We’re in this together, aren’t we? We have to focus on the Black Ledger. It’s what dad would have wanted.”

  Cormac’s expression faltered. His grip loosened on the wheel. “I’m sorry, Sawyer. You’re my brother. I just don’t know how to look at you. I just wonder what dad would say about this.”

  A dull amber light bled across the horizon. Every cell in Sawyer’s body screamed at him to find cover. “We’ve got twenty minutes if we’re lucky. If we don’t find shade, I’m dead.” Sawyer shoved past him and stormed to the bow. “Find an inlet. Or a cave. I don’t care, just find me some cover.”

  Cormac turned the wheel hard. The boat angled back toward the tree choked shore. The light shifted again but this time the long fingers of sunlight crept over the deck.

  Sawyer hissed and crouched low. He ducked into the thin shadow beneath the wheelhouse awning.

  Cormac glanced down at him. For a moment his jaw worked like he chewed on an idea. Then his eyes flickered. Without a word, he turned and dropped to one knee beside the wheelhouse locker. He yanked it open and shoved aside a coil of rope and an old fishing kit. He reached deeper. He grabbed something and pulled it free. It was a folded gray tarp, mildewed and frayed at the corners, thick enough to block the light. He dragged it out, shook it once, then crouched beside Sawyer. “Hold still,” he muttered.

  Sawyer’s brow furrowed. “What are you—?”

  “Just shut up,” Cormac growled. He threw the tarp over Sawyer, who grabbed it and wrapped it around himself. “There’s your shade, before you go melting all over my deck.”

  He couldn’t see it, but he felt Cormac turn the wheel. “There!” he shouted. “I see land!”

  Through a little hole in the tarp, he saw a distant pocket of jungle where the trees met the surf and clawed down at the water. Vines spilled from the canopies and roots coiled over black stone.

  The last of the silver light of the moon vanished. The sun crested the horizon. Sawyer felt the heat on his back; it illuminated his tarp and created a phantom itch, a reminder of old life that he mourned while wearing the costume of a blood sucking monster. Curled there like a ball in the tarp, hiding from the light, he actually felt like a monster. Maybe his brother was right.