If there was one word to describe her life over the next few weeks, Tamara would have said it was resignation. Accepting that she was not responsible for her current situation and putting all the rest of her negative thoughts on paper had allowed her to honestly face up to her fears. Now that she had clearly formulated them, she felt like she could face the days ahead with some dignity.
The same held true for her anger. It was still there, she knew how fully she and Roger had been wronged, but now she could accept that pain and keep functioning. She asked Roger for ideas, too, when she got the chance.
"Sometimes all you can do is wait for the next day," he told her as he scraped at a piece of dirt from underneath his fingernail. "Or the next sleep, or the next meal. And if you can't wait that long, then all you gotta do is make it to the next moment."
"What about death, though? How do you..?"
"Death is easy," Roger interrupted confidently. "For us, it's the end of earthly suffering. Sure, it might come about in an unexpected or awful way, but the end result will always be the same. So I don't worry too much about that. Although…"
His countenance dimmed. The unkempt hair, untrimmed beard, and overall ragged appearance made her think of a man who had lived all alone in the world for too many years. Roger wore the signs of his imprisonment better than she would have, but it still saddened her to see how much he had changed in these months. Much as he kept up a good façade in front of her, she could see the signs of weakness and emotional exhaustion.
Roger had a decently sized stack of books resting in the corner of his cell now, and his cot held a few more items to help him sleep, including a flattened pillow. Despite these improvements, Tamara knew that the isolation was getting to him. She had carefully broached the subject with the doctor of how long her punishment of reduced visits would continue. All Dok had said was to make sure her behavior remained exemplary while waiting for the Major's permission.
"I don't know if I could be strong if something happened to you, Tammy," Roger continued. "So maybe I'm all talk and you really shouldn't take anything I say seriously."
"But I do!" Tamara said. "We're in this together. Remember? You said so."
Roger smiled wryly.
"All right. Good. You keep going and I'll keep going. One moment at a time."
They kissed gently, and Tamara was careful not to wrinkle her nose at the unwashed smell.
Dok certainly had plans for the next implantation to be successful, and it felt just like the first weeks Tamara had spent in the lab. More exams, more shots, and of course, more calisthenics.
"I really just want some coffee," she found herself groaning to Heinrich one morning as they walked together. Dok had cut her supply off completely after she had been removed from the kitchen staff. The energy boost and emotional comfort it had provided was noticeably absent.
"H-h-he won't let me have it either," Heinrich said quickly. "Thinks it makes the sss…this worse."
"Oh, I see." He really didn't seem like a bad person, despite his allegiance to a Nazi organization. From what she could tell, nowadays he was little more than a gofer for the doctor on her behalf. What with all the meal deliveries, taking her from place to place, and doing her laundry or fetching supplies, he must not have had much time to participate in many of the regular unit activities.
The sneers and laughs of passing soldiers she used to assume were directed at her, Millennium's prisoner. But now that she understood more of the situation, she believed Heinrich was actually the target of their derision more often than not.
How demeaning for him, Tamara thought, although there wasn't anything she could do about it. He seemed to take it in stride, but he had chosen this life after all. Heinrich was technically with the enemy, although she had come to see him as a temporary ally in her fight to stay alive and sane.
"I-I-I'd get some fffor you, but I-I-I don't want you to get in trouble. Dok ssscares me."
Tamara almost laughed, but she held back after seeing his earnest expression. How quickly she had forgotten that the young soldier had been subjected to some experiment or other that had left him with that stutter. She still didn't know any of the details, and nowadays preferred to stay in the dark when it came to Dok's side projects.
Private Ernst noticed right away when the young American woman was absent from the mess hall.
Like many, he had first seen her working in the kitchen, although knowledge of her arrival on base had preceded this via gossip by those who had passed her in the halls or even been tasked with guarding her.
Once he saw her in person, he knew immediately that he couldn't rest until he had tasted her blood. Young, virginal, and most importantly, pure white. There hadn't been anyone appealing enough to tempt him since coming to Brazil.
When he had joined Millennium, he thought his penchant for blood-drinking would be considered a boon, something to be celebrated. A human who already enjoyed the taste of blood must certainly be a rare person indeed, a fine addition to the vampire army.
As it turned out, the recruiter had told him to keep that information to himself, at least until he was turned, or there could be trouble for him. Ignoring this, he had eventually revealed himself to a few close companions, but they had agreed it was a fetish best left unmentioned.
So he hid that part of himself away, like a perverse magazine stuffed under a mattress. He still wasn't a vampire yet, and the wait list to be turned into one was several years long at the rate Millennium was going.
Now, seeing her, he could no longer ignore the urge.
Just a little blood. Just a short rendezvous to tide me over.
The question of how to get away with it occupied his mind continually. Nobody batted an eyelash when one of the Brazilian women was harassed, but this girl was a ward of Herr Doktor's and clearly hands off. If someone were brazen enough to risk upsetting the mad doctor, touching her unnecessarily would at minimum mean a mark in their file and probable demotion. Also, no one wanted to risk their name being moved further down the list. Training accidents sometimes did happen, and it was a rather pathetic thing to die just short of achieving immortality.
So he'd have to be careful. Very careful.
His accomplice and best friend, Gunther, sat down across from him with his tray piled high with starch and whatever mystery meat they were being served tonight. Gunther looked around just briefly to see if anyone was looking at them.
"I've thought about it," he said quietly, "and as long as you don't let us get caught, I'm in."
Back home his handsome friend probably could have had any girl he wanted for a pleasant evening, but being committed to Millennium brought with it a certain level of required celibacy. It seemed the promise of getting his chance with the female after Ernst was done with her was still enough temptation for the horny soldier.
As they ate, he thought back to that morning when he had scanned the master list, which had been updated and posted outside the barracks. His name had moved up to the 258th position, but Ernst just couldn't wait that long to taste blood again.
It was a non-visitation Sunday, and Tamara was feeling out of sorts and headachy all day. Even with the delivery of clean laundry and towels to put away, she felt listless.
As the day wore on she tried to sleep it off, but the headache only worsened until it was joined by some nausea as well. As she reluctantly noted these symptoms in her day planner, she began to wonder again what she was supposed to do to get ahold of someone in an emergency.
Suddenly Tamara doubled over, her gut feeling like it was going to explode. Convincing herself it was just gastric pain, she stumbled to the bathroom but could find no relief even after a whole hour in there. If anything, the pains were worsening, along with the nausea and headache.
There was nothing to be done but to find the doctor. At this point, he would certainly want to know what was going on. And since it was daytime, the doors in the stairwell would be unlocked.
Clutching her stomach with one hand and the railing with the other, she headed down the stairs slowly. Knowing that the doctor would be able to diagnose the problem and probably offer relief was a huge comfort, and actually helped to distract her from the pain as she descended.
However, as she headed down the hallway towards the lab, her ears picked up on noises that horrified her. They were muffled, but definitely like the sounds of a person being tortured.
Reaching the door, her fears were only heightened as she confirmed that a man was clearly screaming in pain from within the lab. Truly he sounded like he was dying.
Her mind worked out all kinds of possibilities as she leaned weakly against the wall just outside the door, but none of them were good. Maybe there had been an accident, but wouldn't Dok be using anesthesia if someone were injured that badly or needing surgery?
The gruesome sounds of anguish only heightened the sensation of her own pain, and Tamara slowly sank to the floor. It had taken all of her energy to get here, and she didn't think she make it back to her own room in order to suffer further there.
Tamara was about to cover her ears when a soldier walking down the hall noticed her. He hurried over to see what was going on.
"Was machst du hier? Du solltest nicht hier sein!" he said, more alarmed than angry.
"Schmerz," she replied, wincing and clutching her stomach. She sincerely hoped that would be enough to explain why she was where she wasn't supposed to be.
He looked at the lab door, somewhat helplessly, as if he also did not know how to handle this kind of situation. Clearly he heard what was going on in the medical facility, but seemed less concerned about the noise than what to do in this unusual circumstance.
Finally, squaring his jaw, the soldier banged loudly on the door. After that he straightened the front of his uniform jacket and stood at attention.
The lab door eventually opened and a furious-looking Dok stormed out. His gloves were dotted with bright red blood.
"KEINE UNTERBRECHUNGEN!" he shouted, causing the soldier to flinch just slightly at the spittle sprayed into his face.
"Es tut mir leid, Herr Doktor! Aber sie…" He motioned with an open hand to Tamara.
Dok whirled to his left. As soon as he saw Tamara, he seemed to forget all about the soldier and quickly removed the wet gloves by turning them inside out and stuffing them into his pocket. He crouched beside her.
"What's wrong? Why are you here?"
Tamara cowered, afraid that his temper would be directed towards her as well.
"My stomach..."
Dok swore, then stood back up. Turning towards the soldier, he pressed a finger into the man's chest.
"Stay with her and keep her comfortable. I'll be finished in ten, fifteen minutes. Send the unit leader in the moment he arrives!"
"Jawohl," the soldier said with a stiff salute as the doctor turned on his heel and reentered the lab, his coat swishing behind him right before the door slammed back shut.
Tamara looked up to see that the man was grimacing at her, seemingly unsure how to proceed. Under other circumstances, she might have found it comedic how he looked as pained as she herself felt.
Another loud groan came from within the lab, and nothing felt funny in the moment.
"Is he okay?"
"Is who okay? Drink this."
"That man, the one who was screaming before." Tamara sat up with a groan and accepted the proffered cup of viscous liquid. She drained it, winced once, then handed the cup back to the doctor.
Dok had checked her over and discovered that she was having side effects from the aggressive regimen of hormone injections. Admittedly, he had gotten a bit careless in his attempt to please the Major.
"Oh, he is going to be just fine."
"It was pretty awful. If I'm honest, it sounded like he was dying to me."
Dok did not feel she was quite ready to learn this particular truth about Millennium, despite her husband having found out already. Much planning had gone into keeping the couple ignorant about the existence of artificial vampires. It was the sole reason that she had been given a room in the old wing of the facility instead of the lab, despite the overall inconvenience of the arrangement.
At any rate, he had already decided how to respond if she ever broached the subject prematurely.
"I had to administer a treatment that can't be done under anesthesia. He may have been a little overly dramatic, but he will survive."
Tamara half-laughed, half-sighed. "I was afraid you were doing some horrible mad scientist thing in here."
He was placated at this response, and slightly amused by her sudden attempt at humor. Tamara must have mistaken his expression for she quickly apologized.
"Sorry, I guess that wasn't funny. Maybe Roger is rubbing off on me."
He decided it was best to move on from this topic as quickly as possible.
"How is your pain now?"
"I think it's a lot better. I'm sorry for coming here without permission."
"Well, it puts me in mind to give you this." Dok reached into his pocket and handed her a small device.
She looked at it, slightly confused. The item looked expensive and brand new, black with a greenish display panel.
"Is this a pager?"
"Yes. I remember you expressing some concern about reaching me in the event of an emergency. And although your health problems today weren't strictly emergent, you did the right thing by coming to me."
"Thank you."
"Now you will have no excuse for leaving your room unattended."
"I understand."
An hour later, he released her after some instruction in using the two-way messaging device. At last he could check on his patient, who had been hurriedly moved to convalesce in the autopsy room. Dok removed a few blood packets from the small refrigerator he kept under the desk.
"Poor devil."
Today had been stressful, but at least no harm had been done in the end.