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

by Rick Gualtieri

  Sally just shrugged. “I did what I had to do. It was either that or collapse. After climbing up the pit, I couldn’t carry Ed and get out of the blast radius otherwise.”

  “All three?”

  She held up her hands. “Just the guy. The girls freaked out and took off running. I don’t know what happened to them.”

  I remembered the body I’d found while feeling my way around in the burning fallout from Miranda’s explosion. Sometimes, I forgot that despite our friendship and her newfound caring of the people living in Pandora, a bloodthirsty predator lurked just below Sally’s surface - she was a complex individual that way.

  “Fuck,” I muttered softly.

  It wasn’t so much that I was mad at her. It was more that we’d won by only the barest of margins, and even that remained questionable. There’d been other tunnels leading out of that one cave. Unless we’d gotten extremely lucky, all we’d done was cut off one of the Jahabich’s routes to the surface.

  Then there was Mark to consider. I’d like to think he’d been crushed under a hundred tons of falling rock, but without having seen it myself, I didn’t want to hope for the best. That wasn’t good. The guy had seemed ever so slightly around the bend where the subject of Sally was concerned. I’d read enough real-life horror stories online to know that the operative word with crazy exes was the crazy part. That particular subset of society didn’t know how to take a hint.

  The worst of it all, though, was knowing that had any of the humans survived, I’d probably have attacked them myself.

  We could fool ourselves all we wanted, take in as many refugees as we could fit, but at the end of the day, we were still monsters. Maybe Sheila was right after all. I could pretend to tread along a righteous path, but that was crap. No matter what any of us did, there was a good chance this world would eventually become a place with no real heroes - just the lesser of many evils.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  Over the course of the next several hours, Sally offered me some of her blood a few times. I declined, fearful of another crash once it wore off. Besides, anything I took would eventually weaken her. On the off chance we ran into more of those goddamned walking rock piles, one of us needed to be close to the top of their game.

  Thankfully, I was able to make a go of it on my own. I didn’t feel great, but after I’d gotten my balance again, I had enough strength to go on. At the very least, I wasn’t anywhere near the condition those feral vamps down below had been in. Who knew how long they’d been denied sustenance? If things got that bad, I’d certainly take Sally up on her offer, but I had the feeling it would be days - hopefully - before that happened, and if we were down here that long, we’d be so lost as to be thoroughly fucked.

  On the upside, at least Ed didn’t have anything to worry about from the present company - his blood now the equivalent of downing a gallon of rocket fuel and chasing it with a lit blowtorch. Besides, he had his own issues - like being pretty much one big walking bruise.

  The trip back to the surface took a long time. Go figure; heading up was more of a chore than going down, especially when you’ve been through the ringer. One bit of luck held for us through it all, though - we didn’t get lost.

  Sally’s spray-painted markers turned out to be easy enough to find, thank goodness. I could have kissed her for having the foresight to leave those. Speaking of which, I had a vague memory of doing just that right before keeling over from my blood crash. Had that been real or a sick dream? Sally certainly didn’t bring it up on our long walk back. Likewise, she hadn’t bounced me off of any walls, threatening me with worse should I ever do so again. At the same time, the memory was pretty solid. It sure as hell had felt real, especially near the end when it seemed like she was getting into it.

  What did that mean?

  Of course, it might have meant nothing. It was always hard to tell with Sally. It might have been because we now had Ed with us and that could have made for some decisively awkward conversation. “Hey, man, glad to see you’re still alive. By the way, before I forget to mention it, I just tried ramming my tongue down your wannabe girlfriend’s throat.” Yeah...rock monsters grown from a pool of orange jizz was one thing, but talking about relationships was a whole different level of weird.

  At the same time, Sally wasn’t one to shy away from making anyone feel uncomfortable and she hadn’t said shit.

  Thankfully, I was soon distracted by these thoughts - and my own spinning head - when I realized we were finally back in a section of the sewer that was familiar. Hah, what a concept. A few years ago, you couldn’t have drunken dared me to wander down a drainpipe. Now, I actually had familiarity with various tunnels and routes. I swear, never again will I laugh if someone tells me, “In the next year you shall...” followed by some outlandish proclamation. I’d seen far too much strangeness to keep a closed mind.

  At long last, we reached the tunnel leading to the subbasement of Pandora’s Box. Sally was still going strong thanks to her snack break down in the depths, but Ed and I were both on our last legs. It would be a quick stop for me at the fridge to grab a couple pints of blood and then a nice long session of passing the fuck out. The others could keep guard for a while. Let Steve take an extra shift since he’d missed out on all the fun.

  The subbasement looked just as we’d left it. The gate was still smashed to all hell and the place littered with broken pieces of the fused Jahabich we’d smashed to shit.

  “You know, when this whole apocalypse thing is over and done with, we might want to consider seeing if there’s a market for these things. I mean, shit, people pay for garden gnomes and they’re no less creepy.”

  My two companions chuckled as we got to the ladder. Looking up, I could see the blocked opening above us. The Jahabich had trashed the trapdoor during their earlier assault, but it looked like it’d been sealed with some heavy crates for now.

  “You go first, Bill,” Sally said as we stepped to the ladder. “In case they open fire without bothering to check that it’s us.”

  That stopped me in my tracks. “Fuck that shit, coven master. Kindly lead us lowly minions by example.”

  “Wimp,” she replied, starting up. Even joking as she’d been, about halfway up, she yelled out, “It’s us! We’re back. Don’t fucking shoot!”

  Gotta love vampire tact, but then again, being the master of a coven of monsters typically meant one didn’t need to apologize for having a poor bedside manner.

  They apparently heard her because a scraping sound came from above and we saw the crates being moved aside, opening the way. Thank goodness. I could practically taste the cold Bloody Mary - made with real blood, of course - that I would treat myself to in a few short minutes.

  Of course, that’s the problem with wishful thinking...it’s a good way to ensure you’re going to be fucked in the ass nice and thorough.

  Sally went up, followed by Ed, and then me taking up the rear.

  I had just about reached the top, when Ed asked with some uncertainty, “Uh, Sally?”

  I popped my head up through the opening a scant second later to find a full house waiting for us. Now that’s what I’m talking about. It’s about fucking time I got a hero’s welcome for putting my ass on the line. I mean, as far as vampires go I might as well be shitting in my diapers, yet it seemed I kept getting thrown into the fucking meat grinder. One of these days, probably right after I’ve gone irrevocably insane, I swear I’m gonna march into the Draculas’ meeting chamber and tell them to fix their own goddamned messes for a change.

  I smiled as I got to my feet, looking around at the masses waiting for us, when I noticed I was the only one looking jovial.

  That’s when two things hit me. First, all of the beings in the room, minus Ed of course, were vampires. Second, I had no idea who any of them were. They were all dressed in the typical garb of what I’d come to expect of emissaries of Prefectures or higher - basically, all looking like fashion rejects from The Matrix. Didn�
�t anyone ever tell these fuckers that look went out of style around the time the second movie came out?

  Then I remembered. Hadn’t Sally said something about calling Yvonne for reinforcements before we left, but that she hadn’t held out much luck for anything more than a “too bad, so sad” response? Guess she was wrong after all. I found myself wishing I’d bet her ten bucks on that before we headed down into the mines of Moria.

  “You guys are a little late,” I said. “We already kicked their asses back to the Stone Age, but you’re welcome to...”

  “Are you William Anderson Ryder?” one of them interrupted. He seemed to be of mixed Asian descent with some kind of tribal tattoo running down his neck to under his shirt, but otherwise, he wore similar clothes to the rest. I guess these guys all shopped at the same store in the mall.

  “That’s what’s on my driver’s license,” I answered flippantly.

  “You are the Freewill,” he continued in a monotone voice, “also known as...” He lifted a tablet computer in his hand and stared at it for a moment, his expression one of slight disbelief.

  Oh, for Christ’s sake. “Yes, also known as Doctor Death.”

  The man stared at me for a moment as if sizing me up. I didn’t feel the need to elaborate that my old Village Coven moniker had resulted from nothing more than being put on the spot. What can I say? It had sounded good at the time.

  After giving me one last sour glance, he turned toward my friends. “You are Sally Sunset, former Coven Master of Pandora Coven...”

  Wait, former?

  “Also known as Lu...”

  “Sally will do just fine,” she snapped. “Now what the fuck do you mean by...”

  “And you,” he continued, addressing Ed, “are Edward Peyton Vesser?”

  “Peyton?” Sally and I asked in unison.

  “What? Mom liked that old movie,” he replied.

  I snickered. “Okay, Peyton.”

  “Go fuck yourself.”

  If our banter perturbed the vampire who’d been addressing us, he didn’t show it. Sally, on the other hand, didn’t seem to be overly pleased. Oh yeah, that whole former coven master thing might have had just a wee bit to do with it.

  “Explain yourself,” she said. “As master of this coven and a representative of the West Coast Prefecture under Yvonne, I demand...”

  The vamp cut her off with a backhanded slap across the mouth. Whoa. What the fuck was going on here?

  “You will demand nothing,” he spat.

  I stepped up into his face, putting myself between them. It was partially out of chivalry, but more so to keep her from launching herself at his throat and turning this into a full-on brawl. This was not how a victory celebration was supposed to start. “Listen, asshole, we just put the hurt on a whole shitload of rock monsters, and if you don’t want us adding a few new casualties to that list, I’d suggest you start apologizing real quick.”

  Hmm, that had sounded a whole lot less inflammatory in my head.

  Before I could backpedal to something a wee bit less threatening, the entire ensemble around us produced silver stakes. Oh shit.

  Thankfully, their leader held up a hand before they could converge upon us in a manner that would probably end up hurting quite a bit. However, his smug grin as he turned back to Sally stopped me short of offering up my thanks.

  “By the order of Yvonne, honored Prefect for the Western United States and Northern Mexico, you are hereby stripped of your station...”

  Whoa, harsh. Didn’t realize Sally had been pissing her off that badly.

  “...at the bequest of the almighty First Coven...”

  Oh, those fuckers. But why were they going after Sally? I mean, usually I was the one in their crosshairs.

  “...Furthermore, the three of you, on order of the esteemed First Coven...”

  Jesus Christ, could this dick stain fit more ass-kissing adjectives into his sentence if he tried?

  “...are to be placed under arrest for your crimes against the vampire nation.”

  Wait, what? Arrest?

  The group of armed vamps converged on me and my friends, restraining us before we could even give voice to our protests.

  This was bullshit, plain and simple. I said as much, not that it made any difference. A vampire closed in, holding heavily reinforced cuffs out before him. I might have taken a little more offense to that than I should have. Rather than go quietly like a good little prisoner, I instead lunged at him - my teeth bared. What can I say? I tend to get cranky when I’m hungry.

  Sadly, they were obviously well versed in who I was and what I could do. Multiple arms grabbed me from behind right before several fists, all reinforced with the silver stakes they held, slammed into my face.

  It was too much punishment and I was too fatigued to fight it. The lights went out and, for a time, I knew no more.

  The vampire cops might not have respected my Miranda Rights, but they definitely made sure my right to be silent was in full effect.

  Part 2

  The Long Drive

  For the second time in a day, I found myself clawing my way rather unwillingly back toward consciousness. I would’ve loved to have stayed in that nice, warm place in my mind where the only company was my partner in crime and a certain Icon - both of them wearing bikinis and wrestling in a tub of pudding over which of them would get to serve my needs first. Talk about just desserts.

  Unfortunately, another part of me felt terrified at staying put. I knew what lurked deep in my subconscious, and although it had been mostly quiet ever since my adventures in Switzerland some months back, I didn’t want to tiptoe past its bedroom more times than necessary out of fear of waking it back up.

  The only reason I was me again was because it had let me go. I’d given up, handed over the reins, so to speak, and had been thrust into a prison in the nether reaches of my mind. Thankfully, however, the monster hidden inside of me got bored of the day-to-day bullshit being a prisoner entailed.

  Wait, prisoner? Shit!

  That snapped me out of it. The nice dream of Sheila, Sally, and their nickname for me - “Lord Thor” - faded into nothingness. Jostling and a sense of movement replaced the fantasy. Goddamn it! I’d better not be in the sewers again, being dragged around like a sack of fucking potatoes. Then came the rumble of an engine and I realized that wasn’t the case.

  I opened my eyes, but thankfully, the vertigo from before had receded. I was still hungry, famished even, but whatever plasma crash I’d suffered from earlier had apparently evened itself out with regards to my undead body chemistry. Of course, my head still hurt, but I figured having it pounded in while my friends looked on might have caused that.

  Crap!

  That shook the final cobwebs from my mind and I sat up in a near panic...or tried to. My arms were restrained behind my back and I was on a seemingly short tether.

  “Welcome back, Bill,” Sally said from off to the side.

  “Shut up, bitch,” another voice barked.

  “Make me.”

  I looked around. Metal walls surrounded me on all sides. I sat on the floor and was pretty sure my hands were cuffed. Sally sat on my left, similarly bound. Ed was on my other side. His hands lay in his lap, bound with plastic zip ties. He could have gotten to his feet, but it looked like doing so would have just gotten him pummeled.

  Across from us, on a bench that ran the length of the room - a trailer, if the bouncing and road noise were any indication - sat seven of the vamps who’d been waiting for us upon our ascent at Pandora’s Box. I quickly took in their faces - nobody familiar. At least their leader wasn’t in sight. These fuckers had apparently pulled guard duty with all the discomforts afforded that station.

  One of our minders, a youngish-looking vamp - not that appearance meant shit in the supernatural world - stood up and brandished a silver stake. He awkwardly spun it around, almost dropping it in the process, so that the flat end faced out as he brand
ished it menacingly. “I’m gonna warn you one last time.”

  “Go fuck yourself, junior,” Sally said. “And if you even think of touching me with that thing, you’re gonna be compelled to pull out your own fucking eyeballs and eat them.”

  His hesitation was slight, nearly unnoticeable, but it was there. I’d seen it before on vampires a lot older than this punk.

  “Go ahead and try it,” he replied in a tough guy voice. “We’ve been insulated against you.”

  “I actually wasn’t going to do jack shit.” She stopped to blow a piece of hair that had fallen in her face. “But he might.” She nodded toward me.

  “Him?”

  Oh crap. Sally had a nasty habit of writing checks with her mouth that my body couldn’t cash, and she seemed to never tire of doing it.

  “No, the human over there. Of course him, numb-nuts. That’s the fucking Freewill sitting next to me.”

  “He’s no threat to us.”

  “Really? You’re gonna tell me you haven’t heard the stories? What he did to the king of the Sasquatches up in Canada?”

  The guard hesitated.

  “What he did to the Icon in New York?”

  Uncertainty shone nakedly on his face and those of his colleagues as well.

  “How he escaped from Switzerland?”

  Confusion replaced the hesitant looks, but the gleam in Sally’s eye told me that’s exactly what she’d been hoping for.

  “Oh come on. Your bosses didn’t tell you how he escaped from the clutches of Alexander himself? That the entire fucking First Coven couldn’t hold him?”

  The assembled masses turned a collective shade paler. I inclined my head toward my roommate and his expression said it all. Sally was a master chef when it came to making bullshit stew.

  “I thought so,” she continued. “That’s the problem with your bosses - they keep their secrets and you’re the ones left holding the bag. Now, why don’t you back off like a good lackey and we can spend the rest of this trip in relative peace without anyone wrenching off their own limbs?”