Available Darkness Season 1

one on purpose.
    Larry had seconds to calm her. Lydia’s blood was always hot and it didn’t take much to roll it to a boil. She may have run a chop shop with a regular clientele of thugs, thieves, and organized criminals, many who had blood on their hands, but kidnapping, or any crime involving a child, was something she wasn’t willing to take part in.
    He spoke calmly.
    “Come on, you know me better than that. Don’t believe any of that shit you saw on TV. There are some people after her, bad people. We’re protecting her.”
    John crawled from the van and nodded to Lydia.
    “What about him?” she said, “I saw what he did on TV. What the hell is he?”
    “You trust me?” Larry asked, his voice climbing an octave like a guy in a fight with his girlfriend about the used condom she found in the backseat of his car.
    Lydia looked past John and at Abigail, who was starting to stir. “You okay, sweetie?”
    Abigail looked up at Lydia. The child’s eyes were cloudy and distant. Larry could only imagine the accusations barreling through Lydia’s mind. They drugged this girl!
    Larry had always been able to count on Lydia in a pinch, but they hadn’t spoken in more than half a year, since the “Tony situation” came out of nowhere and took over everything. Who knew where her loyalties lay now?
    Larry eyed her up and down, while her attention was on the child. He was certain she was packing heat; something small like a snub nosed Ruger, probably in the small of her back. Lydia might not have run with the lowest of the low, but she was, like Larry, always prepared for any eventuality. He didn’t want to get into a gunfight, so he’d have to act quickly to disarm her the moment before she reached for her piece.
    “Where are we?” Abigail asked, her syllables slurring through the slosh of a thick tongue and vacant expression.
    Something looked off about the girl, Larry thought. Same doll, different batteries.
    “You okay, honey?” Lydia asked, edging towards her.
    John leaned over, blocking access to Abigail, and growled. “Don’t touch her!”
    Lydia drew back, and before Larry could make a move, she had a gun in hand, a Ruger indeed, Larry noted, and aimed it at John.
    Oh fuck, this is gonna get ugly.
    “What the hell is going on here?” Lydia asked, gun trained on John, but eyes on Larry; wide, wild, and dilating in a fear that was full yet unflinching.
    “Put the gun away,” Larry said, his voice a glassy calm, “You saw what this guy did to those people, right? He may not be human, BUT, he’s not the bad guy here. This girl here, Abigail, isn’t human either. These government fucks are after them both. They want to capture them, experiment on them, and God knows what else. All that shit on TV is a giant spin by the media machine, Lydia. You have to believe me.”
    Something in Lydia’s eyes softened and Larry could see she was starting to buy what he was selling. He might have even believed they would get out of the entire mess unscathed if Abigail hadn’t started to scream at that moment, her body convulsing in a wicked rhythm of spasms. John tried to calm the girl, putting hands over her, but Abigail swiped them away, her entire body shaking.
    A low, predatory snarl started to spill from her throat.
    “What the fuck?” Lydia said, gun back on John.
    John’s face turned gray as he turned to Larry, “What’s happening?”
    Abigail echoed the question in broken gasps, her fingernails digging into John’s arm. “Wh… what’s hap…pening to me?”
    Abigail’s back arched upward, her body a circus freak of twisted contortions as anguished cries erupted from her lungs.
    Tears poured down Lydia’s face, “What’s happening?”
    She put the gun in the waistband of her jeans behind her back and moved towards Abigail, reaching out to help somehow. Neither Larry nor John were able to stop her before Abigail’s flailing hand seized Lydia’s forearm and locked.
    The feeding began.

    * * * *

CHAPTER 8— Caleb

    Caleb kneaded his temples and stared at the laptop sitting on hid bed.
    On a safari for clues to his foggy past, he’d accessed a database in the bureau computer, wound his way through a series of gateways, and finally located his full file. While he’d pieced together many puzzles through public and classified records during his years with the agency — lives collected neatly in folders, filled with facts, photos, and crime scene reports — it was another thing