The Tome of Bill Series: Books 5-8 (Goddamned Freaky Monsters, Half A Prayer, The Wicked Dead, The Last Coven)

by Rick Gualtieri

  Then I saw her. A glowing white angel clad in armor, she cut through Remington’s men like butter. Ashes flew wherever she touched them - the fires of faith empowering her. She was marvelous to behold. Sheila, the reborn Icon of Faith, foretold as the last defense of humanity against the coming darkness. Even had she not been the Icon, she was still the girl I was hopelessly in love with. Pity that a part of the prophecy entailed a final fight to the death between us - the world going to the victor.

  I didn’t believe it, though. The hell with seers and their mystic bullshit. We’d make it to the end of this war, but we’d do it together - hopefully as more than friends, but I’d take what I could get.

  Except that wasn’t to be.

  The battle moved on seemingly in fast forward. Tom pulled a gun on us, his mind pushed to the breaking point. He was fairly easy to subdue, although I hated myself for having to do it. Unfortunately, Remington proved to be a much harder foe to dispatch.

  Before I could stop him, he pulled the trigger - shooting Sheila point blank in the head with the heavy caliber weapon. Her - our - destiny was erased in one terrible moment. Mankind’s defender was felled, but I couldn’t have cared less. Without her, it didn’t matter if the world burned or not. All I wanted in that moment was my revenge...

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  I awoke with a start, a cry escaping my lips. Despite the coolness of the cargo hold, I was covered in sweat. Awake or not, the dream refused to leave me - continuing to play out in my mind. After several minutes, I began to understand why. It was exactly the same as that stupid movie I’d watched in my brain - the same outcomes my subconscious had been insisting were real every time I thought back upon the participants.

  There was only one conclusion - it hadn’t been a dream.

  Whatever block had been in my mind shattered upon that realization. I remembered it all - at least up to the point where I descended upon Remington. I had no idea what happened after that, but considering what I’d heard, it was a fair bet that he hadn’t survived.

  The only question was whether anyone else had. I’d succumbed to the beast inside, gladly giving up any pretense of control. Once released, had he fallen upon my friends as he had Remington? That was a possibility too horrible to consider.

  Even so, the story I’d been given was somewhat different from those events. If there’d been no survivors, it was still possible that a vampire cleanup crew could’ve come to those conclusions. Still, it sounded a little too tidy. There didn’t seem to be any speculation as to the betrayal I’d made against the vampire nation. No, it was definitely too neat, as if someone had spun it that way, someone with a vested interest in covering their own actions in the whole fucked-up endeavor. This practically reeked of Sally’s involvement.

  If she had made it, wasn’t it possible that the others had, too?

  Not all of them, though. Gan and Sheila hadn’t. I’d seen enough to know that. That first one stung - my heart going out to the little psycho. That other, however, was utterly devastating.

  Or at least it should have been.

  It had been the event that pushed me over the edge, throwing me into the equivalent of a subconscious prison for three months. Hell, if Dr. Death hadn’t decided that he’d had enough of the constant poking and prodding, I’d still be there, blissfully unaware of anything except my daily routine.

  Even knowing all of that, I couldn’t seem to quite grasp the same pit of despair that I had. I wasn’t happy about it, don’t get me wrong, but I felt - I don’t know - hollow inside. It was as if whatever grief I had in me had been completely burned out.

  That wasn’t too surprising. Running on nothing but pure rage for months would probably be a bit much for most anyone. The truth was, I wasn’t entirely upset about that. Despite wanting to crawl up into a little ball, a sense of clarity came over me. Whatever future had been ahead for Sheila and me- whether real or just imagined by me - was gone, but it didn’t have to be for nothing.

  Thea and Josh were hoping that I’d work against Alex’s plans, but I was going to make sure to do one better. The Icon was foretold to be humanity’s last defense against the coming darkness, but the prophecies weren’t worth shit - I knew that now. Alex might as well just use them all to wipe his ass. All of it was a lie. So why not work with that?

  The others could believe what they wanted, but I would be forging ahead with my own destiny. Sheila was gone, but she would not be so easily forgotten. Not only would I refuse to be the spearhead of evil I was expected to be, I would step into her shoes - figuratively, of course.

  Humanity needed a defender, and I just so happened to have an updated resume, so to speak. I vowed to honor her memory and make her proud - wherever she might be looking down from.

  I would stand tall in the face of ultimate evil.

  I would...

  The plane shuddered and I fell off the suitcases I’d been sitting upon, landing on my ass. Whoa! I would need to survive this flight first.

  The jostling continued as the massive plane passed through what I hoped was only some nasty turbulence. It would be really fucking difficult to defend humanity if I wound up smeared across a mile of wreckage.

  The cabin tilted forward and the whine of the engine indicated we were descending. I’d never been overly afraid of flying, but I’ll admit I tried to mentally calculate our downward angle - my plan being to shit myself once it got past sixty degrees.

  The shuddering got worse, and another sound roared over that made by the aircraft’s engine - thunder. Oh, fuck. Before my little rage nap, a weird-ass storm had rolled into town. Multi-colored lightning, unseasonal temperatures, and the like followed in its wake. Gan had been of the opinion that it was supernatural in nature - a showing of strength by whatever entities were about to burst through into our world and fuck it up. After everything I’d seen, I was inclined to believe her.

  While it was possible that we were just flying through a regular storm, I sincerely doubted fate would let me off that easily. I seemed to be a beacon for weird shit. It would be just my luck for Thor, God of Thunder, to check up on things and inadvertently blow me out of the sky at the same time.

  The plane jolted again and once more knocked me from my feet. I clonked my head a good one against the fuselage just as the whine of wheels braking sounded all around me.

  Holy shit, we’d made it.

  That final jostling had been the plane landing. I was back - hopefully. That meant I could return home, maybe take a breather and plan my next step. It would be so awesome to see my friends...

  Oh no.

  I replayed the newly regained memories of that final battle. What a goddamned selfish asshole I was. I’d been so busy focusing on Sheila that I’d overlooked Tom and Ed. What a piece of shit I was. They were my two best friends in this world, and I hadn’t given them a second thought.

  Christy’s errant magic had brainwashed Tom into despising me. I’d snapped him out of it, but how was I to know what had happened next? I was hopeful he’d survived, but there was a good chance he’d done so continuing to hate me.

  I couldn’t even say that much about Ed. He’d been in the process of turning when we’d saved him. Even Sheila, with her magical healing touch, hadn’t been sure of his survival. It was possible he hadn’t...

  No!

  I couldn’t torture myself with that. There was no point. I needed to know for sure - then I could torture myself.

  As the plane slowed, I remembered what was in my pocket, then smacked myself in the forehead. What an idiot I could be. I still had that fat dude’s cell phone. Sure, he’d probably get fucked with roaming charges, but that wasn’t exactly my problem.

  I pulled it out and immediately realized I had a completely different problem - it was dead.

  Guess I shouldn’t have spent so much time staring at his homemade Deep Throat remake. Go figure.

  Pit Stop

  If my knowledge of airlines was still valid,
then I didn’t have much time before the cargo doors were opened. I needed to get my shit together.

  The first order of business was to make sure my glorious return wasn’t a short-lived one. I had no clue what time of day it was. It could’ve been high noon for all I knew. The storm continued to rage outside, but that didn’t mean shit. With my luck, it would quickly clear up and leave me standing around in broad daylight for all of the thirty seconds it would take for me to vaporize.

  There was also the fact that I wasn’t too big on getting soaked if it was raining. Hey, being an undead monster didn’t mean I liked walking around wet and miserable. Squishy sneakers weren’t cool no matter how dead you might be.

  Fortunately, I had an entire cargo hold at my disposal. Sure, some of the passengers might be pissed to find their stuff missing, but maybe next time they’d know better than to take a flight with a stowaway in the luggage hold.

  I tore through the bags until I found a hoodie, coat, and gloves. I also found a new pair of expensive-looking Nike high tops in my size. I already was wearing a pair of shoes, but what the fuck? It’s not like I wasn’t already committing a felony.

  Once suitably attired for whatever weather awaited me, I grabbed my bag and...

  Oh crap, my bag. I had completely forgotten about my traveling companion - what with worrying about my roommates, mourning Sheila, and watching homemade porn. Hopefully, those blood-soaked towels had kept Richard Cranium properly...err...bloodified.

  I quickly unzipped the bag to check, moving aside the now dry and crusty towels.

  Oh, that wasn’t good.

  In the space of however long the flight took, my bodiless friend appeared to have aged a couple of centuries. He’d had a rugged jaw and dark hair when I packed him away, but now, he kinda looked like he drank from the wrong grail from Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade. His skin was wrinkled, cracked, and sickly grey in color. His formerly black hair was now dull and shriveled. His eyes had rolled up into his head and the parts I could see were all dried out. Worst of all, his mouth was locked open in what appeared to be a silent scream, as if he’d tried crying out for help, only to be ignored.

  “Um...hello?”

  There was no response, not that I expected there to be any. Sad to say, but he didn’t appear to have survived the trip.

  How wonderful. I was now the proud owner of a mummified vampire head - quite the souvenir. It would probably look dandy on a shelf next to Tom’s action figures.

  I was tempted to just toss the sack back amongst the rest of the luggage. That ought to give some poor shmuck a start when he picked it up. The look on their face alone would probably have made this entire ordeal worthwhile. On the other hand, leaving around evidence of vampire existence was probably not an overly smart thing - especially since it would undoubtedly be traced back to me. Oh well, I could figure out how to get rid of it later. Maybe toss it in a dumpster or something once I was out of there.

  And out of there I would soon be, for that’s when the door to the cargo hold was cracked open.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  I considered standing there and letting them see me, maybe saying something awesome like, “Declare this, bitches.” Instead, I hid like a pussy - realizing my triumphant return would be spoiled if it began with a dozen TSA agents tackling me.

  A man stepped into the hold. A conveyer belt led downward behind him. Beyond that, the storm raged in full force, the rain coming down in sheets. It wasn’t quite perfect cover, but it would hopefully be enough to let me get off the tarmac and get lost in a crowd somewhere.

  The man bent down, still unaware of my presence, and began grabbing luggage. Thinking quickly, I hefted an oversized bag and threw it at him. He went down with an “oof!” amongst the sea of suitcases and I made my move.

  I raced to the exit and took a look around. Sure enough, there were others working below, but thankfully, they were all heads-down - shielding themselves from the weather. I wasn’t going to get a better chance at this.

  The drop to the ground wasn’t too bad, especially for one with vampire powers. I slipped out, landed, and immediately put all of my speed to bear - running full out so as not to be noticed. The weather was absolutely awful - rain pelting me sideways with barely any visibility at all, even with my enhanced senses. Regardless, I was happy to have it as I made my way past parked airport vehicles, trying to be careful not to wander out onto the runway.

  Lightning flashed across the sky. Unsurprisingly, it blazed a color other than the normal white. The sky was heavily overcast, yet I could tell by the light it was daytime. That was probably good. It would give me a better chance of finding a crowd to disappear amongst.

  I kept dodging and weaving, making it a point to keep my head down in case anyone saw me, which was also practical with the weather.

  Finally, I vaulted a chain link fence with a running start and found myself in what looked to be long-term parking. Yes!

  Not wanting to press my luck, I kept moving and finally spotted an entrance to the terminal, one that was in heavy use. A few more moments found me inside and lost amongst the crowd of people either commuting or going on vacation.

  I kept expecting a hand to fall upon my shoulder and turn to find a small army of angry security guards, but for the moment, I seemed to be anonymous - just one more wet, annoyed traveler amongst the pack.

  I allowed myself a small sigh of relief as I passed a Dunkin Donuts. Oh yeah, I was definitely back in the States. I even briefly considered stopping in for a cruller. Sadly, all I had on me were a few German krugerrands or whatever the fuck I’d stolen off that guy in the castle. I had a feeling those wouldn’t be accepted and it wasn’t important enough for me to waste the effort looking for a place to exchange them.

  No, it was time to figure out exactly where I was and how to get back home. If luck was with me, this was either La Guardia or JFK. If so I could...

  It wasn’t.

  I spotted a sign that told me exactly where I was - Newark Liberty International Airport.

  It wasn’t quite Hell, but close enough.

  Of all the places to be, I was in fucking New Jersey.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  My plight wasn’t ideal, but it wasn’t terrible, either. I knew where I was and, best of all, had a friend in town. I wasn’t sure what his thoughts would be upon seeing me, considering my absence had caused me to inadvertently blow off his game for the past three months. Dave was nothing if not an angry god when acting as dungeon master for my gaming group. There was also the fact that when last I’d seen him, he was busy cultivating a small colony of vampire mice - courtesy of him being amongst the few humans who knew my secret and the only one gleefully conducting crimes against nature by way of said knowledge.

  Oh well, that didn’t matter to me right then. What did was that Dave was still a friend, even if he did insist on occasionally doing questionable things like snipping off my toes for his research.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  With no American currency and being forced to move at normal human speeds, it took me longer than I’d have liked to reach his apartment. Newark, even in the middle of a biblical torrent, was never an empty place. By the time I got there, I was soaked to the bone despite my purloined coverings.

  It was with no small amount of relief when I finally knocked on his door. My only hope was that he was actually home - a rarity some days. Dave was a medical resident and tended to keep odd hours. Breaking into the apartment of the guy who could smite my character with any of a thousand different curses wasn’t my ideal reunion tactic, but I would still do so rather than stand out in this storm like a...

  “Who the fuck is it? I’m trying to take a nap.”

  Gotta love Dave. His pleasant bedside manner extended to all parts of his life. It was a small wonder he hadn’t chosen some other altruistic profession such as priest, grief counselor, or Guantanamo Bay torturer.

  “Open up, it’s the police!” What can
I say? I was in no mood to fuck around. It wasn’t like I was having a good time prancing around in a warm summer shower.

  Needless to say, the sound of footsteps approaching reached my ears in due order.

  The door opened a sliver - as I’d taken the liberty of putting my finger over the peephole - and I was met with a pair of angry, questioning eyes.

  “Show me a badge.”

  “I can do one better.” I whipped off the sopping wet hood and grinned.

  Dave blinked in surprise, his eyes opening wide. “Holy shit. Bill?”

  “No, it’s Mother Nature. Now open the goddamned door and let me in before I drown out here.”

  He backed up a step and opened up the door, giving me a look at him standing there in a t-shirt and boxers. Not exactly the sight I’d hoped to find greeting me upon my triumphant return.

  I stepped past him, glad to be out of the weather. He shut and locked the door behind me before turning to my still dripping form.

  “You know, they have these wonderful new inventions called umbrellas.”

  “I’ll try to remember that the next time I stow away on a flight back from Switzerland.” I dropped the bag containing the desiccated head onto the floor with a thunk. Oh well, it wasn’t like he was going to be feeling much. I then proceeded to peel off my purloined coat - making a mental note that next time I’d steal something a bit more weatherproof.

  “Switzerland?” he asked. “So that’s where you’ve been all this time?”

  “Apparently.” I took a seat on his couch, not caring much if I got it wet. It’s not like his furnishings were exactly top of the line.

  “So all this time that you’ve been blowing off our game, screwing up my experiments, and worrying everybody sick, you’ve just been on some fucking vampire vacation?”

  I couldn’t help but notice the priority he’d given to his accusations, albeit it wasn’t all that surprising, considering the source. Still, I decided it would be best to save that topic for another time. “Not quite. What your people call a vacation, I call an incarceration.”