He stepped in front of the blond female in his group. “What did you do that for?” she asked The Master.
“Why did I do that?” He looked down at the dried up husk at his feet. “Why did I do that?” he said again, as if asking himself. Then he turned back to the female and shouted, “He irritated my dots, that’s why!”
He kicked at the dust pile until there was nothing left.
“And who said they could have werewolves?” he shouted into her face. Her lip trembled as she waited for him to tear off her head but she stood straight and tall, prepared to meet her fate. He let his features fade from a snarl into something sad and confused then turned away from her. “I don’t even know how to kill a werewolf—didn’t even know they existed. It’s not like there is a manual for this shit.”
“Trial and error,” the last male in the group said.
The Master turned to him.
“Trial and error,” The Master repeated, agreeably.
“Yes, kill one and then you’ll know how to kill them in the future.”
“I agree. The only way to know how to do something is to do it. Step forward and be designated as my new number one.”
The bearded male stepped forward. He was dressed in motorcycle leathers, with steel chains on his pockets. His broad shoulders were pushed back, proud and defiant. He very clearly expected The Master to rip his head off as well but was ready to meet his end. The Master laughed. They didn’t trust him. They feared him, and that was just fine. That was just how he liked his subordinates.
“I am sending you all out to hunt, to kill and to recruit. I want only the strongest and meanest; no children, and no little old ladies. Find me an army. I want fifty, sixty…one hundred! We must have our army by the end of the month so that we can attack before the others can retaliate,” He dismissed them then. They were all too ready to disband and leave the Master to his dark thoughts.
The Master went out into the night as well, to feed and to add to his numbers. He would soon have a grand army of blood drinkers, and no other vampire would dare stand in his way again.
31.
David parked the Zephyr at the Four Seasons Campsite near the small town of Scotrun in the Poconos. Maggie found a safe place in the woods for the wolves to run free, and to hunt. The sleeping arrangements were more or less the same. Randal had the space under the sink, as David and Antony shared the larger steel compartment under the table. Maggie and Dylan would share the bed.
David and Antony used an app on their phones to find pedophiles and other sex offenders that lived in the area. There was no lack of prey. Randal had been growing bored of the typical prey, and decided not to go with them. He would head farther north instead. But he didn’t go out just yet. He wanted to push the hunger a little longer, to see just how much of the pain he could endure. He decided to stay with Maggie until the others returned.
She came out of the bedroom with an excited aura surrounding her. She spoke to Randal. “I know you must be hungry, but if you can hold out just a little longer, I have good news to share with you.”
When David and Antony returned, Maggie gave the group the good news. She had picked up the scent of their quarry.
“And I mean that in the literal sense. There was a stink in the vision I had of this house. It’s a B and B, or was. Now it’s a hot mess. There was something foul, dead-smelling in the house. When I heard the phrase ‘Dark Father’ spoken in the vision, I knew I had the right place.” She paused and stared with a puzzled expression on her face. “I have to wonder if the vampire is storing corpses in his lair.”
“ Creepy…and ultimately stupid,” David said. “But at least we finally have something to go on.”
Maggie marked the location on the map. David found the location on Google Maps; it had been a bed and breakfast in the past. And now they had an address. The noose was tightening.
Randal stared at the spot on the map marked with the blue pushpin. He focused all his rage and hatred into that spot until he thought he could burn a hole in the map with his eyes. He was vaguely aware of Maggie placing her soft hand on his back, comforting him. “It will all be over soon,” he heard her say. Randal wondered if that was true. Would it be over? After the Dark Father is destroyed, will this rage go away? Will his desire to taste innocent blood be quenched when the Dark father was no more? Randal wasn’t so sure, and it scared him.
Randal wanted to share his secret craving with Maggie, but would she understand, or would she cringe from him, like he was some sick and rancid thing? He just couldn’t risk losing her trust. He needed her approval right now.
After boring a hole with his stare into the spot on the map where his Dark Father resided, Randal excused himself. He didn’t dare look into Maggie’s eyes as he departed. He didn’t want her to read something there that might tell her his little secret. She already had that uncanny ability to know things no one else can see. He left the Zephyr and moved with speed into town. He wandered the streets, not really hunting; he just wanted to be away from the others for a while. He was starting to feel smothered. He walked at normal speeds for a while.
As he passed through the streets, not really thinking of anything in particular, he heard the strange sound of machine guns going off, the wails of sirens, and the pinging of electronic equipment. He spotted the source of the sounds. Bright lights of all colors and varying brightness flashed at the place where his attention had been drawn. It was an all-night arcade.
Randal entered the building and looked around. There were mostly older teenagers and adults gathered in the building, but there were also a few kids his age there, too. Well, the age he had been when he died. It was the age he would probably feel for all of his eternal life. He approached one of the younger kids and watched him as he played a first-person shooter. The kid glanced at him briefly, but didn’t give him much attention beyond that.
Randal turned away and spotted another young boy playing something that had zombies and other scary pictures depicted on the side of the machine. Randal walked over to him and watched him play the game. The boy’s turn ended, he dropped his hands away from the controllers. He turned to face Randal.
“My name’s Bobby,” said the boy.
Randal said his name.
“I like your fangs.”
Randal slapped a hand over his mouth.
Bobby smiled. “It’s no big deal. My little brother has fangs. My mother says he’ll grow out of them. Maybe you will, too.”
“I hope not,” Randal said. “I need them.”
“Do you have any money?” the boy asked.
Randal shook his head. He didn’t.
“I have a whole pocket full of tokens. The machines only take tokens, from that dispenser over there, and I already turned my real money into tokens, so I have to use them up. I I’ll share them with you, if you want. I have to go soon.”
“Sure,” Randal said.
The boy pulled a handful of tokens from his pocket and handed them over to Randal. Randal played the monster game for a while and then switched with the boy who had been playing the shooter game. He then found a game about vampire hunters, which made him laugh, and he played that one, too. When his tokens were all used up he found the boy who had shared his tokens with him.
“I’m all out,” Randal said.
“Me too,” said Bobby. “I’ll be back tomorrow, but in the daytime. Will you be around?”
Randal shook his head.
“From out of town?” Bobby asked.
Randal nodded.
“Aw, darn. I would have liked to see you again.”
“Me, too,” Randal said.
“Oh, well. It was nice meeting you.”
Randal grabbed ahold of Bobby’s hand. “I know of a way we can hang out together, forever.”
Bobby tried to pull away, but Randal’s grip was strong. “Let me go.”
“I wasn’t strong enough before to pass on the gift, but I think I am now. I think I can change you.”
“No.” Bobby’s eyes filled with tears. “Randal, you’re scaring me. Let me go.”
“It will be okay, Bobby. I promise.”
Randal turned around and saw that he had drawn the attention of several of the other people in the arcade. People pointed and whispered to one another. Randal’s grip slackened and Bobby pulled away. He ran from the arcade, crying.
Randal considered running after him, but stopped himself. What was he doing? Had he really planned to do that? Randal ran from the arcade at supersonic speed. He didn’t stop until he reached a park. In the park he saw someone who looked familiar to him. He stepped up for a closer look.
It was his mother. He pulled out his picture and compared it to the woman in the park. He was sure it was his mother. She had survived. Was she a vampire too, or had only been wounded?
Randal stumbled up to this woman holding out his picture. The woman turned and smiled at him, but did not seem to recognize him. He tried to press down his unruly black hair, but it was no use. He tried to straighten his clothes, to be presentable; but who was he kidding? He slept in a metal box. He wore dirty clothes and probably smelled bad, too. He was embarrassed to be reuniting with his mother in this condition. He gave up trying to impress her and smiled at his mother. His smile faded when she looked at him, scared.
“Mother, I’ve missed you.” Randal’s own voice sounded alien to him. Still, she didn’t seem to recognize him.
Suddenly this woman didn’t look as much like his mother as he had first thought. He looked down at the picture and then back at the woman. He held his picture up near her face to compare.
The woman slapped the picture out of his hand.
Randal dropped to the ground and snatched up his picture before it drifted away. He shoved it back in his pocket.
This woman wasn’t his mother.
Randal’s eyes went red.
Randal was on the woman before she could flee or even cry out. He was ripping his teeth into her throat and drinking from her, sucking at the gashes his teeth had made, and lapping up the blood that spilled over his hungry lips. The woman was completely drained—dead—before he even realized what he had done.
Randal was devastated. He had taken innocent blood, and it tasted as good as he had dreamed it would be. Looking down into the woman’s dead glassy eyes, he felt blame radiating from her like heat from a coal. His guilt was all consuming, blinding. He stumbled away from the deadly scene. He moved with vampire speed as far from the woman as he could get. He ran aimlessly, or so he thought; but when he stopped running, when he scanned the surroundings, trying to orient himself, he realized where he was.
The large, looming mansion still carried the dilapidated sign stating: Bed and Breakfast. Randal clenched his fists. He didn’t hesitate. He didn’t run away; Randal strode with determination toward the building. He hiked up the crumbling walkway to the porch steps. Four fluted pillars as thick as tree trunks lined the front porch. The whole place was in serious disrepair. Two double doors fifteen feet high served as the front entrance.
Randal moved with determination toward the doors, intending to bust them down if he needed to in order to gain entrance. He didn’t need to even touch them. As he came within inches of the entrance, the left door swung inward, revealing the dark interior. Randal stepped tentatively into the darkness, and came face to face with the skinny rotting boy who had opened the door. The rotting corpse boy did not talk, or move; he just stood there staring at Randal with glassy, milky eyes and maggots dropping from a hole in his cheek.
After several seconds, the corpse boy tipped his head to the left as if listening, then motioned for Randal to follow him as he walked with a staggering limp into the house. Randal followed, taking in the surroundings.
The house was furnished with large puffy pieces of furniture that were covered with dingy white sheets, and decades of layers of dust. The oversized pictures in ornately designed frames on the walls were so dust covered, the images were not recognizable. This looked to be the reception area for the bed and breakfast.
After passing through the archway, Randal then found himself in a main sitting room. This room had similarly designed furniture as the pieces in the reception area, as well as drapes on the windows: heavy crimson drapes that were moldy and tearing. Magazine racks and bookshelves held the rotting remnants of their previous publications.
In this room, the corpse boy indicated that Randal should have a seat, wait.
Randal had no intention of waiting. He started a methodical search of the house. He stalked from room to room, but there was no one in the house except himself and the corpse boy. Randal found the door leading to the garage. He searched the various tools and debris for anything to use as a weapon. The only thing he found was a dull and rusty axe, but it would have to do. He could use it to hack off the Dark Father’s head. He then returned to the house and continued his random search. Randal eventually located the door which led to the basement. In the basement he found the coffins. It took all his strength but he managed to smash all the coffins to splinters.
It was not long after that when he heard the sound of footsteps walking across the floor above his head: many pairs.
The Dark Father was home, and by the sound of all those walking above his head, he was not alone.
Randal regretted his decision to confront the enemy.
32.
When she first became aware of Randal’s distress, she staggered. She wasn’t sure at first what she was sensing, and when David glanced at her, she smiled, reassuring him she was okay. The first sensation had been a mere ripple in a pond. The second was a surging wave. When the tsunami hit her, she screamed and dropped to the floor. With Dylan’s help, she managed to regain her composure. She was dazed and confused. Her ability had left her for a moment, but soon returned little by little until she was once again able to pinpoint Randal’s proximity. Her heart grew heavy with sorrow and fear for him. When Antony returned from hunting, she told them what she knew.
“He’s gone to the lair.” She said this in a rush of words and tears. To aid in the confusion, she clarified: “Randal has done something rash. He killed an innocent woman. And then, in order to come to terms with what he has done, he went to the lair of the one who had created him. Randal wants to destroy the Dark Father but he’s too weak. He’ll be destroyed instead. Dylan and I will never get there in time. You have to go on ahead and stop Randal before it’s too late. It may be too late already.”
David rushed out the door at top speed, leaving behind a hot breeze in his wake. He arrived at the crumbling mansion quickly. Antony was not far behind him. They stepped up to the double doors together. Antony was slightly disappointed the doors were already open. He had been looking forward to kicking them in. David and Antony glanced briefly at each other then entered the house. They listened and heard the shouts and curses issuing from the basement. They followed the commotion until they found the door to the basement. The sound of struggles grew louder as they opened the door.
David and Antony descended the stairs and confronted the six vampires. Quickly glancing around, David located Randal, cornered and swinging an axe. He was only barely keeping his attackers at bay. They laughed as they toyed with him. His face had been disfigured by a multitude of slashes. Any one of the attackers could have disarmed him and killed him but instead chose to draw out their fun.
The Dark One turned to confront his new arrivals.
“Have you come to take my pet from me again?” he said. “He found his way home all by himself. I don’t plan on letting him go again.”
“You do not have a choice,” Antony said. “When we leave here he is coming with us, and you will be dead.”
“The two of you plan on taking on the six of us?” the leader said.
David snorted. “There were more of you as I recall,” he said as he pulled his katana from its sheath. “Where are they? That’s right: I already killed them.”
“And I recall you had a few werewol
ves the last time we met.”
“They are on the way.”
The vampire scowled. “They aren’t invited. This is a vampire’s quarrel, no place for your pets.”
“Noted,” David said and pressed the attack. Holding the weapon out in front of him, David swiveled his wrist and slashed at his opponent. The Dark One staggered back, just out of reach of the sword’s deadly edge. The other five vampire minions moved in to assist their leader. David slashed and cut the head off the first vampire to come into range. After that it was all he could do to keep the vampires from swarming over him. Antony moved in to protect David, but the vampires were moving too fast. Their skills had improved since the last encounter.
Suddenly it was like a bell rang on Wall Street; bodies flailed, arms waved, and a flood of vampires swept over David. Antony struggled to pull vampires off him, and managed to tear the head off a female vampire. David’s katana was wrenched from his grasp. He fought at the wave of bodies pressing in on him. He felt Antony’s presence in there with him as both of them struggled to get the vampire attackers pushed back. David felt teeth dig into his neck. He desperately floundered in an attempt to pull the vampire off him. He regained his stability and pinned the attacking vampire in a headlock. Looking into the evil eyes, David slowly slid his arm down the vampire’s neck, caressing his face one second before twisting the vampire’s head to the side and taking it clean off.
David then watched as his katana rose in the hands of someone else. He viewed the glint of the blade as it arced down in the direction of his head. Offhandedly, he thought: No, fool. You’re holding it all wrong!
An instant before the katana found David’s neck, Antony dived into the path of the blade. The weapon struck Antony in the back, nearly cutting him in two. Antony screamed and fell away from the blade. He could do nothing more to help David.
Antony crawled toward Randal, struggling to keep his severed torso from coming apart. The katana wielding vampire turned his attention to the mortally wounded foe, raised his weapon, and aimed for Antony’s neck. Antony had no more strength to defend himself. Looking up, Antony saw his looming fate mirrored in Randal’s frightened, sorrowful eyes. Antony smiled sadly at Randal, wishing the small vampire didn’t have to bear witness to what was about to happen.
Immortal Coil: A Novel (Immortal Trilogy Book 1) Page 23
