Sunday, January 3, 2016
FIRST EPILOGUE: FOUR YEARS AGO
The shrill ring of his cell phone jolted Castillo out of the stupor he was in. He couldn't believe the damn thing still worked. The pain of the fall had been so terrible he had had trouble focusing at all and had largely blacked out. He knew he had suffered many broken bones and massive internal injuries. But he was alive . . .
The phone rang again. Castillo could barely move at all as he lay at the bottom of the cliff side, a jagged piece of rock tearing through his abdomen. Although he had managed to roll far enough under a jutting rock that the rays of the sun could not reach him, he was in so much agony that he almost regretted the fact that only a stake through the heart or other special methods could kill a vampire. Still, he managed to twitch a finger just enough to switch the phone on.
“Mr. Castillo,” a voice said, again pronouncing every letter of his name. Wittingstone. When I get out of here, I’m going to teach him how to say my name if I have to pull his fingernails out to do it. “Sir, there’s been problems,” the voice continued. “The Watcher is still alive, and the men you sent are either dead or have fled. I think we’ll have to put the project on hold as the prototype equipment has been largely . . .uh . . . destroyed, and I can’t get replacements in time for the military demonstration. I hope you don’t think this was my fault, of course.”
“Sir?” said the voice again. “Sir?” The query echoed a few more times before the caller hung up.
The Slayer alive, the project in shambles. It may take me weeks, or months, or even years, but eventually my body will heal. And when it does, I will find her and then . . . I’ll have something sufficiently “dramatic” in store for her.