C.O.T.V.H. (Book 3): Extermination

by Dustin J. Palmer

  "That son of a bitch Russell pistol whipped you!" Cort stared at one of Turner's men. The man kept his hands up but smiled an evil grin at Cort.

  "Keep smiling you son of a bitch." Cort stepped toward him and spit a mouthful of tobacco juice on his shirt.

  "Three on one, huh?" Anderson said. "That's low even for your crew, Turner."

  Cat grabbed Jake's head and looked closely at the back of his scalp. His hair was matted with blood. "It's a bad cut, might need a couple of stitches but you'll be okay.” To Jake’s ears she sounded oddly relieved. “I'll need to take a look at the one on your cheek too. I don’t think it will need stitches, but it might scar if we don’t get something on it."

  "Your crew ain’t worth a damn Turner!" Cort yelled. "And for that matter neither is that worthless piece of rat turd son of yours! There hasn't been a single decent Turner since Tommy died. He'd be ashamed of what you turned into."

  "Well I guess we know who to blame for that don’t we Cort?” Turner yelled back. “And now I guess your boy will suffer the same fate! His wounds don’t look nearly as life threatening as when you first brought him in, do they boys?”

  A general consensus of yeses murmered among The Slayers. “Where’d you get the blood from, Cort?” Tank asked.

  “What fate? What’s he talking about?” Jake asked.

  “You didn’t tell him?” Turner shook his head. “You’re not the first guinea pig he’s put vampire blood into, kid. He did the same thing to me when I was a kid and it didn’t work out so well.”

  “Is that true?” Jake asked his grandfather.

  “We’ll talk about it later,” Cort said, unable to meet his eyes.

  “No we’ll talk about it now!” Jake yelled grabbing his grandfather forcefully by the collar of his shirt. “What did you do to me?!”

  “Jake,” Cort said sadly, “you were dying. I had to!”

  Jake released his grip, a deep sense of betrayal filling his soul. “So what’s next? Will I turn into a monster like Turner?”

  Turner rolled his eyes. “You just won’t give a shit about much of anything anymore.”

  Jake stepped away from his grandfather, heading back to his room.

  “Hey kid, there’s a spot for you with The Slayers whenever you want!” Diez cackled. “You’ll fit right in with the rest of us monsters!”

  "Get your boys and get the hell out of here Turner,” Anderson said, not moving the pistol. “If we were in Texas right now I'd have all of you in handcuffs. Go now Turner." Anderson motioned with his pistol. Turner made a gesture with his hand and three of the men holding guns took off at a run toward their rooms.

  Jake ignored Diez, stepping into his room, slamming the door behind him. He stepped over the broken ceiling, and stepped into the bathroom. Inside was a lime green, mold covered shower. Jake turned the knobs and stepped in, completely oblivious to the icy cold water. He rinsed the remaining blood off himself, including the blood matting his hair. With his teeth he ripped the paper off of an ancient piece of motel soap and scrubbed himself rigorously. When he was done he climbed out, toweled off with a clean T-shirt and dressed in a pair of jeans and faded blue T-shirt from his duffel on the floor. He laced up his boots, zipped his bag back up and stepped outside into the brisk night air.

  He opened the door to Cort and the others still standing there, almost as if waiting for him to emerge as a different creature altogether. He managed a weak smile. “I’m fine.”

  “Thanks,” he reached out his hand to Captain Anderson.

  "No problem kid,” Anderson nodded slowly shaking his hand. “It’s the least I can do. First time I met Wes Turner he and Russell almost put a few rounds of buckshot through my chest. It was Ben and your dad that stopped them.”

  "Jake this is Captain Henry Anderson.” Cat said making introductions

  “Captain?" Jake asked with a questioning glance. “Military?”

  "He's a Texas Ranger," Chris answered.

  "Ah," Jake said, raising his eyebrows.

  “Relax, Jake.” Chris smiled. “He’s been like an uncle to me since he and dad first met.”

  "Let’s get you inside," Cat pulled Jake back toward their motel room. "I've got to make sure you’re really okay."

  “I’d rather do it out here,” Jake said taking a breath of fresh air. “It’s such a nice night out and frankly your motel room stinks like rotten ass.”

  “Jake, come on,” Cort said. “That’s a little rude.”

  “No,” Cat said arching her eyebrows, “it’s fine, it does stink. Let me just get my stuff.”

  Jake watched from a lawn chair as Turner and his men loaded all of their gear onto the backs of six Harley Davidson’s, then revved their engines to life. The bodies of their fallen comrades they loaded into the back of an old Dodge van.

  Two bikes, belonging to Turner's now dead men, sat unmoving. Oddly Jake couldn’t have cared less. Turner and his men deserved what they got.

  Bloody Wes pulled his bike out leading the pack and stopped in front of Jake, Cort, Henry, and Chris. Henry gave him a cold look, laying his hand on his holstered large pistol. Turner spoke up over his loud rumbling engine. "I'll be sending someone to pick up my boys’ bikes sometime tomorrow. Make sure they are still there."

  He turned and pointed at both Jake and Cort. "I ever see one of you damn Bishops again, I might just have to kill you."

  Cort snorted in laughter, "I'll make sure my firing pins are in place. Coward.”

  That got Turner's attention. He reached for his gun. But Anderson's voice stopped him in his tracks. "Go while you still can Turner."

  With that he revved the engine and sped away at the head of his pack. Buck gave Jake a nice little wave with his middle finger as he pulled away. The quiet of the parking lot was deafening after the bikes were out of hearing distance. After a few quiet minutes Cort spoke up. "I'll take care of clean up."

  Cat laid her hand on his shoulder and said, "Thank you Cort."

  "I'll give you a hand," Anderson followed him across the parking lot.

  "Where are they going?" Jake asked from his chair.

  "To take care of our dead," Cat said softly.

  Jake began to stand but Cat laid her hand on his shoulder pushing him back to the lawn chair. "Sit down. You’re not going anywhere until I’ve patched up your head."

  "Cat, seriously I'm okay," Jake said trying to pull away from her.

  “You’re my first miracle heal.” She shoved him down, this time more harshly. “Now sit still or I’ll have Chris here tie you down.”

  Chris rolled his eyes mouthing the words, “Yeah right.”

  She lifted his shirt over his head, “It is a miracle,” she said looking at the stitches. “The wounds are completely healed.”

  “So what is he?” Chris asked carefully. “Is he still human?”

  “Of course I’m still human.” Jake said heatedly at his best friend. "Look at my head. Look at my cheek! If I was a vampire it would have healed already."

  “He’s right," Cat said. “The rest of his wounds are still bleeding. If he were a vampire they would have healed by now.”

  “This is just crazy," Chris ran his hand through his still wet hair. “I’ve never even heard of something like this before.”

  “Chris, go inside and call your father. Tell him what happened and make sure he knows that we’re all okay.”

  One by one the rest of the hunters loaded their gear and pulled away from the motel. Soon only John's Ford pickup, Anderson's Suburban, the dead Slayers two motorcycles, the dead couple's four door Toyota Corolla and Cat's beat up Chevy van were all that remained.

  “Is that true?” Jake asked as Cat worked the needed through his skin.

  “Is what true?” she replied coldly.

  “Don’t play dumb with me, Cat. What Turner said about me turning dark side, is it true?”

  “I don’t know,” she said moving the needle again.

  “You know,” Jake said straining to look up at
her. “I saw the way you pointed that gun at me when you first saw me healed.”

  “That was different, I didn’t know if you were turning. It’s very dangerous what Cort did. The repercussions aren’t always readily apparent.”

  “I’m still me, Cat,” Jake frowned.

  “I hope so, Jake. For the sake of both yours, and Cort’s souls, I hope so.”

  Chris came running out of Cat's office. "Mom." he said shakily.

  "Si mi hijo?" she said finishing with Jake’s scalp.

  "Mom . . . I called the safe house where Dad's staying."

  "And?" She said, getting irritated.

  "And . . ." he went on, "a strange little girl's voice answered. She said her name was Pearl and that she needed help. Mom, she said, that everyone there was dead."

  Jake jerked his head toward Chris so fast it jerked the needle from Cat's fingers. Cat went white as a sheet. "Dios mio." she whispered. "That's impossible I just talked to him a couple of hours ago."

  Jake was speechless. Cat didn't even have to say it. He knew. John hadn't only turned, hadn't only survived the blazing inferno they'd left him in, he'd actually given the vampires everything he knew. The attack on their safe house had only been the beginning.

  "CORT!!" Cat screamed in a voice Jake couldn't have imagined her having. "CORT!!" she screamed dropping her kit from her lap and running to the motel office.

  Jake followed her inside. She jerked up the phone and began dialing numbers. With no answer she hung up and tried another number and another. She did this a total of ten times until Cort and Anderson stepped inside.

  "What's going on?" Cort asked looking around.

  "Chris go pack your stuff, now! We're leaving in ten minutes!" Cat yelled.

  But why Mom?" Chris answered a terrified look on his face. "What's going on? Is Dad dead?"

  "Just do what I tell you!" She screamed at him. Chris disappeared into the back of the motel office at a dead run.

  Cort grabbed Cat gently by the shoulders. "What is it Catherine? What's going on?"

  She relayed the story Chris had just told her minutes before. Cort dropped into a lawn chair in the corner.

  "Cort I called every safe house I could think of!" she said, tears filling her eyes. "Every damn one! Not one answer! They must have hit everyone like they hit us!"

  Cort lowered his head, "Jake pack up, we're leaving." Jake looked back and forth between Cort and Cat for several seconds before Cort yelled at him. "Damn it boy do what I tell you!"

  Jake took off to their destroyed motel room and grabbed up their gear, tossing it one by one into the bed of their truck.

  Cort came up a few minutes later talking softly with Henry Anderson. He handed him a small slip of paper. Anderson took it, looked over at Jake and nodded then took off at a fast pace back to his black suburban.

  This is bad," was all Cort would say when he walked up to Jake. "This is very bad. Is the truck loaded?”

  "Yeah it’s loaded. Grandpa, what are we going to do? Dad will know we’re headed for Hometown, he’ll know every route we’ll take!" Jake said, punching the tailgate of the truck. "We should have gone back. We should have finished the job! If I hadn’t acted like such a cry baby we could have done it."

  Cort grabbed Jake's bag and tossed it to him. "I'm sorry Jake but you're not coming with me."

  "What?" Jake said dumbfounded. "What do you mean I'm not coming?"

  "It's too dangerous." he replied coldly. "Like you said, John thinks too much like I do. He knows all the same hideouts I know. You have to go somewhere he won't suspect. I have to lead him away from you. He'll never imagine that we would separate."

  Jake stared at him not sure what to say. "But," he stammered.

  "No buts boy. Do as I tell you."

  "No," was all Jake could manage to get out.

  "No?" Cort repeated.

  "No!" Jake all but shrieked. "I'm sorry about Dad! I know it's my fault! I know all these deaths are my fault! But please don't leave me like this! Grandpa, please. You're all I’ve got left in this miserable God forsaken world!"

  Cort grabbed Jake and slapped him hard. "This isn't the time for that! It's easy to say it’s my fault, I should have done this! I should have done that! The past is the past boy! Grow up, be the man John wanted you to be! The man I know you can be!"

  Cort shook his head sadly. His voice choked up. "It's not your fault, Jake. I'm sorry I hit you, but don't you ever think that again. Your daddy loved you. He would have gladly paid the price he paid to get you safely out of that house. But I've got to put a stop to this. Too many good hunters died tonight."

  Jake just stared at him. Cort gripped him in a giant bear hug. It was then that Jake knew he might not ever see him again.

  "Henry will set things up for you,” he said with tears in his eyes. “Going with him is something John wouldn’t expect. He'll take care of you and make sure you get out safely. I don't always agree with him, but I respect and trust him. Do as he tells you. Understand?"

  Jake couldn't believe what he was hearing. The whole day seemed like a bad dream. "This is because you think I’ll change like Wes did, isn’t it?" he blurted out.

  Cort shook his head. "Son, you’ve got a soul like none other. You’re caring, you’re kind, you are strong as a bull, stubborn as a mule, and tough as nails. You’ve also got a heart with enough love for a hundred lifetimes. I don’t think a little bit of vampire blood is going to take all of that out of you."

  Anderson pulled up in his suburban and Cort opened the passenger side door. Reluctantly Jake climbed in. “Call Talon the minute you get some place safe.” Cort shut the door and nodded to Anderson. "Henry, you know what to do. Take good care of him."

  Cort shoved The Cleaner back in its case with Jake’s axe and tucked it into the back of Anderson's Suburban. Anderson nodded without saying a word. He put the car in gear but was quickly stopped by Cat standing in front of him with Chris, a large duffel in one hand, his rifle in the other, standing at her side.

  "Henry I need you to take Chris."

  Cort started to object, "Now Cat I don't know if that's . . ."

  "Shut up Cort!” she cut him off. “You owe me this. Making sure my son is safe is the least you can do after bringing this hell to my doorstep."

  Cort opened his mouth to say something but quickly closed it. Chris looked up at his mother with what Jake knew to be the same shock he felt. Chris began arguing with her. She slapped him hard across the face and then embraced him in a tight hug. Seconds later he climbed into the back seat, his eyes full of tears. "Goodbye." she said, kissing him on his forehead. "I will see you again. Okay?" Chris nodded unable to utter a sound. "Goodbye Jake," she said, with a small smile. "Take care of yourself, and take care of my son. He’ll need you now more than ever." She hugged Chris one last time before slamming the door.

  Take care of . . . Take care of . . . Donnie’s voice rang in Jake’s ears. “Don’t worry, Cat. I give you my word. I will take care of them all.” She looked at him quizzically, but nodded her thanks.

  Cort reached through Jake's window gripping his arm tight. Tears filled his eyes. "Goodbye son," was all he said, before tossing something into the truck and walking away. Jake looked down to see his Grandpa's sheathed bowie knife lying on the floorboard. "GO!" Cat yelled and Henry pulled away from the parking lot tires spinning.

  They headed down the highway. Both Jake and Chris stared back toward the motel. Soon it was completely out of sight. "Hey Henry?" Chris asked staring out the window into the dark night.

  "Yeah, bud?" Henry said, looking at him in his rear view mirror.

  "What will they do now? What will we do now?"

  Henry sighed. "Them. They'll do what they have to. They'll try and regroup with whoever is left. As for us, well, first thing we're going to do is keep driving till the sun comes up. I'm not taking any chances that the motel wasn't being watched. Second, we're going to get Jake patched up. Third, well we'll deal with that when we get there."


  "The hell with that!" Jake said, hitting his knee with his fist. "I'm fine! Let’s go get some payback!"

  "Freaking A!" Chris yelled from the back seat. "I'm with Jake. Let's gear up and kill some vampires!"

  "Yeah that sounds like a great idea. A kid that spends most his time glued to a computer, a fat old man, and another kid with his head cut open are going to bring the vampire hierarchy to its knees."

  “Don’t underestimate us, Ranger. We’ve got more training under our belts than most military,” Jake said, “And I say it’s time we put those skills to the test.”

  Chris started to speak but Henry held up his hand silencing him, "Look boys. I know you're upset. I know you want revenge."

  "What do you know about upset?" Chris said from the backseat. "Your family wasn't murdered tonight!"

  "Look Chris, Cort said we should lay low and . . ."

  "I don't care what Cort said!" Chris interrupted. "They don’t get to do this, not anymore, not ever again. I’m not giving them one more inch. Someone's got to put a stop to it and if we're all that's left then it's up to us."

  "Chris is right Henry. With or without you we’re doing this."

  "Look, you're right, I don't know what you're going through and to be honest I don't doubt that you two can handle yourselves. I've known both of your fathers for over eight years now. But training or no training if you go off halfcocked you're only going to get yourself killed, and I don't want that on my conscious. I promised Cat and Cort that I'd keep you safe. So for now we're going to get the hell out of Dodge, lie low. See if anyone else made it out alive. Then we'll go from there."

  “Do what you want Ranger,” Jake replied, looking ahead. “As far as I’m concerned those bloodsucking bastards are about to learn what fear is all about.”

  Chapter 11

  Jake

  September 11, 2001 5:02am

  "You okay to drive Henry?" Jake asked.

  "Yeah I'm all right. Just a little tired, I haven't slept in about twenty eight hours."