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

by Rick Gualtieri

  The thing was, no matter which way I turned, there were potential pitfalls staring me in the face. Sally’s memories were just one. We had prophecies, explosive powers, and more standing in our path. Hell, none of that even counted the big stuff, like the nigh-invincible vampire we were tasked with somehow killing.

  “And that doesn’t even scratch the surface about the world ending,” I said to myself. Hah! Forget stepping into shit over my head. I was sinking in the Challenger Deep of latrines.

  These thoughts and others haunted me as I closed my eyes and attempted to drift off to sleep.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  An odd sensation, like something crawling on my skin, dragged me back to consciousness. Pity, too. Sally and my third grade teacher, Mrs. Moranisberg, had just asked me to be the judge in a best blowjob contest and were busy arguing over who would go first.

  “Hurry up!” a whispered voice commanded.

  “You can’t rush art,” came the equally quiet response.

  What the?

  I cracked my eyes open and found Mike and Carl standing over me. Before they could say a word, I followed their guilty gaze up to Mike’s hand, which was holding a Sharpie right above my forehead.

  Oh, you have got to be fucking kidding me!

  “Um, hi, Bill,” he said.

  “I told you you were taking too long,” Carl muttered.

  “You’re probably wondering what...”

  I cut off Mike’s pathetic excuse by way of an uppercut to the jaw, which sent him flying across the room.

  I grabbed Carl by his shirt and flung him over my body in the same direction my other friend had just gone sailing, cutting short his look of stunned shock.

  “The fuck, dude?” Adam sat up quickly. His body tensed, as if he was ready to bolt should I step in his direction.

  “Number one rule of being a vampire – we’re super strong and heal really fast, so violence is always an option.”

  Dave stepped out of his bedroom wearing a pair of hospital scrubs he’d obviously lifted to use as pajamas. “What the fuck are you assholes doing?” He glanced in the corner where Carl and Mike where busy untangling themselves from each other. “Jeez, get a room.”

  “Bill broke my fucking jaw,” Mike complained, getting to his feet. His fangs had descended and his eyes blackened.

  As way of response, I simply pointed to my face – which I was certain had been used as a canvas for all sorts of unpleasant things.

  Dave’s smirk more or less confirmed that. “Looks like a wash to me,” he said at last. “We heading out soon?”

  I nodded my affirmation.

  “Good. Mike and Adam, you guys grab the stuff in my lab near the door. Carl, you empty out the freezer. I’ll show you what to take. Bill, I’m gonna need you to grab a few things too.”

  “Oh, and what the hell are you carrying?” I asked.

  “All my game books and campaign notes,” he replied as if I’d just asked a particularly stupid question. “You think I trust you fuckers to not take a peek?”

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  The sun wasn’t fully down yet which, interestingly enough, made me feel a bit more secure about starting our trip. Thankfully, it was low enough in the sky for the long shadows to provide more than adequate cover for us.

  We’d lucked out more than I had any reason to hope. Adam’s car was parked in back of the complex and had a full tank of gas. I’d been expecting an hours-long hike back to Brooklyn, loaded down like a pack mule, but I was happy to accept the ride – even if his little hatchback would be packed to the gills with the five of us and all of Dave’s shit.

  Dave tried to insist on shotgun, but took a seat in back once I threatened to tie his ass to the roof rack. As much as I was mourning my character, it was kind of liberating to not have that leverage hanging over my head. It wasn’t normally like me to be so aggressive, but I figured if there was one group to test my new outlook on life with, it was these guys. Besides, I was feeling pretty good – oddly recharged having taken a rare daytime snooze. I’d never really stopped to consider how much it cost me to fight against my physical nature.

  It seemed I’d been fighting against so much since being turned into a vampire that I never bothered to stop and realize maybe not all of it was a bad thing.

  Sadly, it was a little late in the game for that revelation. If I survived the next few days, this tiger could rethink some of his stripes. Until then, I needed to keep my game face on.

  With everything packed up, we headed out – the most lethal carload of road-tripping dorks the world had ever seen.

  Wrath of the Defilers

  “When we get inside, I want everyone to be cool.”

  “We’ve been to your apartment before, Bill,” Adam rightfully pointed out from the driver’s seat.

  “Yes, but never as demonic hell-spawn.”

  “That’s actually not bad,” Mike said.

  “What isn’t?”

  “As a name for our group.”

  “Our group?”

  “Yeah. If we’re gonna follow you on this so-called epic adventure, then we need a name. We can’t just take credit for saving the world as ourselves.”

  “Why not?” I asked, despite knowing deep down the chances of us getting credit for anything were pretty much nil.

  “Because that’s lame,” Carl replied.

  “Well, I guess that does makes some sense. I mean, the vampire world kind of does love their names for things. I used to be in charge of Village Coven.”

  “Lame,” came Mike’s reply from the backseat.

  “Then I was a part of Pandora Coven.”

  “Better.”

  “Oh, and the guy who turned me into a vampire was named Jeff.”

  “Jeff?”

  “But he insisted everyone call him Night Razor.”

  “Okay, now we’re talking. That’s pretty badass.”

  “You got the ass part right. He was one of the biggest ones I ever knew.”

  “Was?”

  “Up until I killed him,” I replied, embellishing things a bit. It’s not like the one person who could contradict my story was up on the details anymore.

  “You killed him?”

  “Fuck yeah,” I said. “I didn’t tell you my name in the coven ... Dr. Death.”

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  The laughter that ensued did little to mollify my fragile ego. Thankfully, Dave finally spoke up with something to take the spotlight off me.

  “How about the Defilers?”

  “Huh?” Adam asked.

  “Isn’t that what you fuckers called yourselves in the last campaign?” Dave replied.

  “Oh yeah,” Mike said. “But that adventure ended on a bit of a low note.”

  “Sorry, but when I told you those owlbears were in heat, you really should have fucking listened. Regardless, I thought the name was kind of cool.”

  There were a few murmurs of assent.

  “Fine,” I said with sigh. “We’re the Defilers.” In the back of my mind, a small part of me realized the pain Sally often expressed when dealing with those less cool than herself.

  “Awesome,” Adam replied. “But you gotta lose that gay-ass Dr. Death shit. We just can’t be seen with you otherwise.”

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  Deep down in my gut, I knew this was a bad idea. I should have left them all back where I found them. Hell, Newark was pretty much full of assholes anyway.

  Any way you looked at things, this did nothing but add complications to the whole affair. Hell, I had no clue how my friends back at the apartment would react.

  “I’m just gonna warn you all, well, most of you anyway, that the women in this building are hands off.” I smirked at Adam, and he casually flipped me the finger.

  “You afraid of the competition?” Mike asked.

  “No, I’m afraid of cleaning up the mess.” I pulled out my key and unlocked the front door. “In addition to m
e and my roommates, we have another vampire, a witch, and an Icon – any one of which is more than capable of killing you faster than you can say ‘Hey, baby.’”

  “What’s an Icon?”

  “I’ll get to that in a moment. First off, yes, Christy is a real witch and I don’t mean some stupid Wiccan. Think at least a tenth level magic user here ... maybe higher.”

  “Still not a lot of hit points,” Carl commented as we started up the stairs.

  “Maybe not, but that assumes you can survive one of her fireballs, which I assure you, you cannot.”

  “You don’t know our saves.”

  “Oh yeah, I do. Trust me. Then there’s the Icon. She’s the legendary foe of all vampires. Imagine a high level paladin whose favored class enemy is us.”

  “Paladins are so fucking annoying.”

  “Yeah, well, tell that to her and her +5 Holy Avenger.”

  “She has a...”

  I stopped and laughed, cutting off Adam’s question. I’d been joking about magic weapons, but I’d forgotten about Sheila’s sword. Holy shit. We really were living out a real life D&D adventure.

  Sadly, the only resurrection spell I was aware of included being dipped in a glowing orange pool and emerging as a slave to the hordes of rock monsters known as the Jahabich. All things considered, I’d much sooner just gain a negative level.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  I gave the guys the vacant apartment in our basement. I wasn’t sure if it was a result of panic from the weirdness of the world, the doings of the witches who had briefly occupied the building during my three-month absence in Vegas, or some combination of the above, but the apartment building where I lived was now empty save for my friends. Nobody had shown up to change locks, collect belongings, or make repairs, for that matter.

  Oh well, when in doubt, possession is nine-tenths of the law.

  I had the guys drop their stuff off before taking them to meet the rest of the occupants. I’d hosted my game here on occasion, like that time Dave’s place was being fumigated for roaches, so they all knew my roommates. However, I wanted to make certain no nasty surprises occurred if they ran into the other inhabitants – a far more lethal bunch, all told, than Ed or Tom.

  There was no answer at the girls’ apartment. That was odd. It was long past sundown, but still relatively early as far as the night went.

  I was tempted to use the spare key to let myself in and check things out, but it seemed I had a nasty habit of running into Sheila during those moments. Not that it was a bad thing. It was just that, despite her control over her powers, she had this tendency to flare up whenever I surprised her. I wasn’t really in the mood to get blasted across the room this evening.

  Still, if they were in there and awake, they’d have answered.

  “I don’t think anyone’s home,” Dave said, his tone bored.

  “Shhh!” I took a deep breath and reached out with my senses. The scent of my gaming friends was overpowering at first. At least a couple of them had skipped showering for the past day or so, judging by things. However, I pushed past that, my nose filling with the smells of the building around me, followed by the lingering lilac moisturizer that Christy favored, Sheila’s simple yet slightly sweet perfume, and the overly expensive shit Sally enjoyed.

  “Lingering” was the keyword there. It was recent, but it told me nobody else currently occupied this floor. The lack of noise, aside from maybe Carl’s heavy mouth breathing, confirmed that.

  No, wait. Faint voices filtered down to me from above. Nobody was home down here, but upstairs was a different story. That wasn’t overly surprising. My apartment had kind of turned into the unofficial meeting area of the place.

  “C’mon.” I turned and headed up the stairs.

  I dispensed with any pretense of ceremony when we arrived on my floor and just pulled my key out of my pocket.

  “Remember what I said about the girls. Be cool or become dust,” I warned one last time before opening my front door – only to find a glowing red ball of death staring me in the face.

  Meet and Greet

  My options were limited. I could save myself, relying on my vampire reflexes, or I could eat the brunt of it and save my friends.

  Fuck it. When faced with the choice of red wine or white, I’m of the mindset that you make room and down both those mothers.

  While cries of “What the fuck?” and “Holy shit!” rang out, I threw myself backward with everything I had, slamming into my friends and scattering them like bowling pins, in the hope that the death ray would pass by overhead, doing little more than singeing our pride.

  I landed on my back, looking up at the ceiling, but no fireball of doom appeared. Daring to sit up, I saw Christy standing about ten feet inside of my apartment, a red glow still around her, but rapidly diminishing.

  “Bill?”

  “No shit!” I snapped.

  “Why didn’t you knock first?”

  “Because I live here.” I forced my tone to remain calm. There was little to be gained by pissing off the hormonal witch who was very shortly going to be mucking about in my brain. “More importantly, since when have you decided I needed to be blasted into oblivion? Tom’s the one who always leaves the toilet seat up.”

  Speaking of my roommate, he leaned back on the couch where he’d been sitting and waved as if nothing had just happened. Dick.

  Christy took a deep breath, but the glow remained around her. Her eyes searched out the forms that still lay scattered in the hall behind me and narrowed. “I wasn’t looking to hex you,” she explained. “I put some blood wards on the front stoop to warn me if anyone other than the six of us tried to enter. I set them to tingle especially hard if it was vampires.”

  I stood up and smiled. It was hard to be mad at her, despite having just stared my own death in the face and had it give me the finger back. Her precautions were smart, doubly so since I had little doubt the Draculas were aware of my ... our ... every move.

  They’d begrudgingly let us go, having ordered us to kill Vehron or die trying – most of their betting pool probably leaning toward that latter option. I wasn’t dumb enough to think they’d sit back and patiently wait for us to call and tell them how things went, though. We probably had a week at most before they showed up at our doorstep and gave us a friendly escort to our fate.

  “Who are they?” Christy asked at last.

  Tom got to his feet, walked to her side, and said, “Hey, guys!” effectively draining the tension from the room.

  I stepped to the side to allow my other friends to enter, hoping they didn’t say anything stupid.

  Christy grimaced when she saw Dave. I’d gotten the vibe, during the short time of their acquaintance, that she didn’t particularly like him – not surprising, since on a good day his personality was about as abrasive as steel wool.

  I quickly introduced the rest to her as they entered.

  A look of confusion washed over her face when I was done. “I thought all the survivors of Village Coven were accounted for.”

  “Like these guys would hang with those preppy dickbags,” Tom scoffed. “This is Bill’s gaming group. S’up?” He stepped forward to shake their hands. Though he wasn’t a regular, he’d sat with us on a few occasions when we were a man short.

  Christy pulled me aside. I kept half my attention on the group anyway, noting how the nostrils of the three junior vamps in the room were working. They might be on good terms with Tom, but they’d all tasted a lot of blood recently, and I wasn’t about to rule out them trying to make a snack out of him.

  “You turned your gaming friends into vampires?” she hissed at me. “When did this happen, why didn’t you tell us, and at what point did you think this was a good idea? Sally is going to be...” She trailed off as she realized the error in that last part. “Well, anyway, what were you thinking?”

  “I didn’t turn anybody,” I said. “Dave did.”

  “Oh.” Her eyes na
rrowed in his direction.

  “It’s a long story.”

  “What have you been doing all this…”

  “Duh! Bill needed my research,” Dave said from across the room. Some vampires apparently needed decades to get with the program, while others were quite obviously born for the job. Goddamn, I really needed to remember to buy him a copy of How to Win Friends and Influence People for his next birthday.

  “Yes, but first of all, I wanted to make sure you were okay,” I countered, which was true. I turned back toward Christy. “He’s my friend.”

  Her eyes softened and she nodded. It had taken me a while after our first disastrous meeting, but I had eventually convinced Christy that, no matter what bullshit spewed out of my pie hole, I was loyal to my friends – to the end, if need be. “So why are they...?”

  I mouthed “later” to her. I couldn’t quite say the truth, that I was keeping an eye on them so that they didn’t go on an insane killing spree through the ranks of Dominos and Papa Johns. That wouldn’t exactly endear her to them, especially since she would then – rightfully – assume it meant she and Tom were potentially on the menu.

  Speaking of which, my fellow Defilers were paying way more attention to my roommate than a casual greeting warranted. “I just brought the guys up to meet the rest of the group.”

  I turned toward them and waved them over before any of them got some not-so-bright ideas. “Guys, this is Tom’s fiancée, Christy.” At my use of the F word, Tom’s head spun toward me. He opened his mouth, but then apparently thought better of saying anything that would make Christy happily feed him to my friends.

  What can I say? Even with the world on the brink of madness, there was still always time to stick it in and break it off.

  Adam walked over and held out his hand, which Christy accepted warily. Mike and Carl were a little slower to do so.

  “Which one is she again?” Mike asked.

  Christy turned toward me with a raised eyebrow, to which I grinned sheepishly. “She’s the magic user.”

  “We prefer to be called Magi,” she corrected.

  That got my friends’ attention, and all of them converged on Christy as if she was wearing a chainmail bikini.