Damian's Assassin - Page 83/116

"They call them towns in this century," Iggy corrected him.

"Boss, you can take Iggy back any time you want," the disgruntled Southeast Ohio Sector chief, Speck, grumbled. "About two thousand."

"Two thousand?" Dusty echoed.

"Everyone's contained. We've got patrols around-- "

"Speck doesn't understand that if even a mosquito leaves the town, there's no way we can stop the spread!" Iggy cut in, agitation clear as she fumbled to open the case to her iPad. "Let me show you the virtual re-enactment of what happens if-- "

"Don't need to see it," Dusty said. "Iggy, give me a minute with Speck."

She left in a huff, and Dusty crossed his arms against Ohio's fall breeze. Speck's sector headquarters was abuzz with activity; the only private place to talk was the back porch overlooking a field of knee-high winter wheat facing a sun setting too early. His breaths hung in suspension with his thoughts as he mulled the fate of two thousand souls.

"I'm not the idiot she takes me for," Speck said, looking from the screen door Iggy slammed closed to Dusty. "How do you wipe out an entire town down to the rats without anyone else ever finding out?"

"You make it look like an accident. Assassinations 101," Dusty replied. "We did it all the time in the Dark Ages. More of a challenge nowadays."

"Can't exactly blame this one on contaminated water, boss," Speck said a little uncertainly. Speck shifted away from him, a response Dusty was accustomed to after thousands of years as Damian's lead executioner. "The mad scientist is right-- we can't let anything living out of this town." He paused, then said, "I need a drink. You want anything?"

"Vodka. Straight, no ice."

"I'll bring the bottle."

Dusty waited until he heard the door close behind him before he moved. He rubbed his neck, unable to shake the feeling that something was wrong. Rather, that something else was wrong. He doubted anything could make this fucked-up situation appear less unsettling than it was.

He shouldn't question what to do. He loved clean-up duty, the mass execution of vamps. This was different. This time, innocents had been infected. He had no pity for those who chose to become vamps. He had little pity for humanity in general. But two thousand innocent people, down to the family dog.

There was one solution: wipe everything off the map. The fallout was less important than ensuring the safety of everyone outside of the town.

Bianca healed a newly turned vamp.

He closed his eyes, feeling her warm breath and soft skin against his again. He could imagine her horror when she discovered what he planned. For the first time in his life, he wondered what solutions other than execution would work.