Oliver's Hunger

As Ursula walked past him, their gazes collided. A silent thank you shimmered in her eyes. He hoped that he wasn’t wrong about her, and that she wasn’t leading them into a trap.

Moments later, they were in the van, Cain sitting on the back bench, Ursula in the passenger seat. Oliver gunned the engine and shot out into the street. As he passed the parked Hummer, he speed dialed Zane’s cell phone. It was answered before it could ring even once.

“Lead.”

In the back mirror Oliver saw Zane’s Hummer follow him. “I’m heading down to the Bayview to where I ran into Ursula.” He glanced at her from the side. “After that, she’ll have to guide us.”

Ursula nodded nervously. “I’ll do my best.”

“You’d better,” Zane’s voice came over the loudspeakers.

“She will,” Oliver said with determination before concentrating on the heavy evening traffic downtown.

They rode in silence until he crossed the 3rd Street bridge behind the Baseball park, passed a few swanky new housing developments, and then entered the less savory neighborhood of Bayview.

The area didn’t have much going for itself. It was crime-ridden, and even the recent extension of the rail line—the MUNI as it was called—down 3rd Street did little to improve the area. If anything, it made it easier for the thugs to get around.

Oliver would know: he’d grown up here. And he didn’t relish being back. It reminded him of the sins of his youth, the gang of thugs he’d consorted with, the crimes he’d committed. With every block that brought them farther into the heart of the neighborhood, he felt his shoulders and chest tighten.

Only a night earlier he’d been down here, feeding on a down-and-out youngster. He felt disgusted at the thought now. Why had he even come down here? He’d avoided the neighborhood ever since he’d started working for Scanguards, but ever since his turning two months earlier something had drawn him to it again. Had he sensed that somebody here needed his help?

He shook off the stupid thought. He wasn’t psychic, nor had he any special gifts like Samson or Gabriel, or even Yvette. Perhaps he had simply considered the Bayview an easy hunting ground where he could still his lust for blood. Nothing more. Only tonight, he wasn’t here for blood, even though he’d left the house on an empty stomach. He felt it growl now, but he pushed back the hunger. For a few hours, he would be all right. Then later, when this raid was over, he would feed. The memory of drinking the bottled blood the night before still haunted him: it had left him empty and unsatisfied. And he had no intention of repeating the experience.

Oliver slowed the car. “This is where I was when Ursula asked me for help.”

“Okay. Which direction did she come from?” Zane asked over the open line of the cell phone.

“East,” he answered and pointed toward the intersection.

“Yes, I think so.” There was a hesitation in Ursula’s voice.

When he looked at her, she nodded quickly. “I’m pretty sure.”

Oliver turned into the next street and kept the car at low speed, giving Ursula a chance to find her bearings.

“Do you recognize anything?” he asked softly.

Her gaze darted around, first to the left then to the right, then straight out front. Her hands fisted at her thighs. “Yes, it looks familiar. But I was running. And afraid.”

“Try harder!”

At Zane’s harsh command, Oliver noticed her flinch.

She instantly pointed her finger to a target in the distance. “That way. I noticed that boarded up shop.”

Yard by yard, they progressed through the area, slowly reaching the edge of the neighborhood where it bled into the worst of what San Francisco had to offer: Hunter’s Point, a place no tourist ever saw, a place even most San Franciscans never ventured into. Few people lived here, and many of those who did lived in desolate public housing projects. Closer to the Bay, many of the plots of land lay bare; others were occupied by old warehouses and industrial complexes.

Not far from India Basin Park, Ursula’s breathing suddenly changed. “Stop,” she whispered.

Oliver brought the car to a stop and confirmed with a look in the mirror that Zane had done the same. “What is it?”

Her hand trembled when she pointed it toward something past the windshield. “There. The sign for the import/export company. I ran past it.” She swallowed. “The building where they held me is just around the corner. Right on the next block.”

Oliver put the car back in gear and inched forward.