Blood Bourbon

Unpaid Tabs

Ryker was lucky that he was being restrained by Carbry, that the older vampire had grabbed him the moment Charlie had started talking to his brother on the phone. He would have ripped the phone right out of the human's hands otherwise and he was half tempted to push him overboard as it was.

Charlie was standing there, like an idiot, staring down at the phone in his hand, even as Mary slowed down the boat to allow them to be able to hear one another without yelling. Around them the sky continued to darken, the seas crashing around them also darkening to a fathomless blue.

"Where is he?" Ryker snarled, though he was relieved. It was going to be ok. Daryl was alright.

"A shrimp shack on the island." Charlie muttered finally, looking up to them with a pained expression. "He's hurt badly. He thinks you're dead, Ryker. He just called me to tell me to stop looking for him. He said they killed you and they made him watch it over and over again and made him a monster. That he's bleeding and doesn't have much time left."

"If you don't turn this boat around and get us on land right now, I'm going to swim there my fucking self." He tried to shrug Carbry off, but found his boss throwing him onto one of the bench seats as Mary turned the boat around and hit the throttle.

Carbry picked up his phone and brought it to his ear, glancing up at the sky and frowning. " A boat? What kind of boat?"

He listened to whomever was on the phone with him before moving to where Mary was and pointing her in a specific direction. There was a swell of the waves and a light scraping sound, then their RIB was suddenly in calmer waters and speeding towards land.

"Apparently the drone picked up a speed boat on a public beach that looked like it was-"

"Covered in blood." Ryker could see it but he could smell it even more fully, jumping to the ground and sprinting across the wet sand his feet spraying up grit and surf around him before the RIB even came to a stop. He barely paused at the boat, knowing Daryl wasn't there. The trail was mostly washed away, but Ryker could pick up the smell of more blood and raced up the beach to a backyard, where Carbry caught up to him and nodded towards a pile of bloody rags dumped in a nearby public garbage can.

Daryl. It was all Daryl's blood. And there was so much of it. Ryker stopped, pulling the grey scrubs out and into his arms, letting out a growl as he saw the rips and holes from where he must have been injured.

"There's the Shrimp shack." Charlie was panting as he caught up with them, Mary not far behind despite the fact that she was also carrying the large medical backpack on her back.

Ryker couldn't let go of the scrubs, though he scowled down at the number stitched into the front of it, at what it represented. They had forced Daryl back into the same uniform, the same number that the man had tried so hard to distance himself from. Ryker wanted to destroy the entire world, and it was only Carbry's calming hand on his arm that reminded him of where he was.

"Calm Ryker." Carbry's voice was firm and commanding, steadying enough until they crossed the street to find the trail go cold. Ryker could smell Daryl's path, could taste the blood in the air as he tried to figure out how long it had been. Minutes. Only minutes and Daryl had disappeared again.

"You guys aren't looking for a tall drink of water, mighty confused like?" There was a woman sitting at one of the tables, drinking beer and eating what appeared to be fried shrimp. "I know he called someone, but he seemed a little out of it. I think the boys he went with mentioned something about him bleeding."

"Boys? What boys?" Charlie turned to the woman, his voice a little more of a bark than was necessary. But then again, Ryker probably just would have growled and scared her off.

"Marines. Driving in a jeep. They talked to him for a bit, told him they'd give him a ride somewhere, when he refused a hospital." She shrugged and nodded down the road "Looked like they were headed to town. Most of the boys head to frankies for food and drinks on their leave days."

"Thank you ma'am." Charlie nodded and turned to look at them, his expression pained. "I don't know where he would go, or if we can trust those kids. Or why he would trust them."

"They were talking about Lava dogs and brothers, or something. Boys had those words on the back of the jeep." The lady piped up, before turning back to her beer.

Charlie closed his eyes then, reaching up to pinch his nose as his shoulders bowed forward, looking like he was going to collapse. "Fuck." Then he pulled out his phone and dialled a number, pacing away.

Ryker looked helplessly at Carbry, who was on the phone, ordering a car their way, glaring down the road as if he could mentally will that jeep to come back.

"It's going to be fine. He's made it through all this. Got this far. We'll find him." Mary was standing in front of him, her words soft, and he saw tears reflected in her eyes when he looked at her. "He's never been to Hawaii, he doesn't know where is safe. You gotta think, Ryker. Daryl thinks you're dead, he's scared and hurt. He needs to find some place comfortable. Where would he go, that reminds him of you, that could be safe?"

"I don't know. Not in a jeep full of soldiers." Ryker shook his head, scowling at her. Why would he know? Why would he have any idea what Daryl would be thinking or doing right at that moment? Their relationship consisted of several fights, a couple nights in a bar and some bonding over whiskey.

"Think, Ryker." Mary murmured, reaching up to grip his arm, squeezing gently.

"Fuck... He has a penchant for wandering into places filled with supernaturals. A talent for it. And he likes whiskey." Ryker couldn't think, he couldn't breathe. He didn't need to breathe, but he felt the world collapsing around him again. He had propped himself up with hope, and lost Daryl yet again.

"I know that it's a tall order asking you which of your soldiers has a Lava Dog's decal on their window, but c'mon man. It's a jeep." Charlie was saying, off to one side.

Carbry had just lowered the phone from his ear when the thing rang again, and his boss frowned at the screen before answering it. "Alesky."

There was a pause. "Where are you, exactly? Yes. Give him the best you fucking have." Carbry stalked across the parking lot to a young kid who had just pulled up in an old pick up truck. "We need your truck."

The human blinked at his boss, expression going blank before nodding and handing over his keys. "Alright man. Thanks."

But Carbry was barely listening, climbing into the truck and turning it on, barely giving the three of them the chance to catch up and jump inside. Luckily it was four door though the seats in the back were smaller. Ryker knew that in any other situation he would smirk at the idea of Carbry stealing a rusted pick up with surf boards strapped to the roof, smelling like it had several baggies of weed hidden all over the place.

But as it was, he just gripped the front dash , looking at his boss who was driving like a mad man.

"Daryl is at a supernatural bar in the next down. Apparently ordered a glass of whiskey and told them to put it on my tab." Carbry growled, though he sounded more amazed than angry. Ryker watched the speedometer go up, the old truck roaring as it opened up on the highway and sped onwards. "Cause cowboys always die with whiskey in them. Or some fucking nonsense like that."