"Well pull over, one of us can dri . . "
"LOOK OUT!" Chris yelled from the backseat.
Henry slammed on his brakes. The tires squealed loudly as the suburban started to fishtail out of control. Henry fought desperately to control the truck as it hit something in the middle of the road. The two front tires blew as the object wedged underneath the truck causing sparks to fly across the highway. Miraculously, Henry got the truck to stop without them rolling. The engine died with a sputter, and all three men sat breathing heavily. "You boys okay?" Henry asked.
"Yeah," Jake said, rubbing his still hurt head. "I think so anyway."
"Chris, how about you?"
"I'll live. I busted my lip on the back of your seat and broke my glasses but I think I'm okay."
"What the hell was that?" Henry asked unbuckling his seatbelt.
"Something big and metal was all I saw," Chris said unbuckling his own seat belt.
"Damn Henry, how on Earth did you keep us from rolling?"
"You got me. Someone up above must have been looking out for us."
The truck sat long ways across both lanes of the highway. All three men climbed out of the vehicle. Chris spat a mouthful of blood on the pavement and wiped his mouth with his sleeve.
"What did we hit anyway?" Chris said looking under the truck. "I can't see anything. Henry do you have a flashlight?"
"Yeah," Henry said moving his head from side to side with his hand. "I sure hope I don't have a concussion. My neck hurts something fierce."
"Henry, flashlight?" Jake said coming around and looking under the truck with Chris.
"Yeah, it's in the back with the rest of my gear."
Jake walked around the back and opened the rear doors. The bags and gun case were tossed all over the place but Jake found a flashlight in the biggest duffel bag. He clicked it on and shined it under the truck. Chris knelt down next to him. “Is that a . . .ah man! Ah man!" Chris yelled, taking a step back.
"What? What is it?" Henry said, leaning down to see what they were looking at.
The dim light of Jake's flashlight shone on the wrecked remains of a blue Harley Davidson motorcycle.
"Son of a bitch," Henry said looking around. "Please tell me there wasn't someone on that!"
Jake glanced out into the darkness then shone the light across the highway. It was littered with at least a half dozen more broken, wrecked bikes. Among them were empty shell casings and lots and lots of blood. "I don't think you have to worry about that." Jake grabbed Henry by the shoulder and turned him to look down the highway.
"Jesus, Mary and Joseph," Henry said shaking his head. "What happened here?"
"Oh man, I recognize a couple of those bikes," Chris said. "That's Turner and his guys’ bikes."
"What the hell happened to all of them?" Jake said gingerly touching at his cut scalp.
The answer struck all three of them at the same time. They looked back and forth at each other then ran back to the Suburban at the same time. Henry jumped into the driver’s seat and began cranking the engine. Jake ran around to the back and pulled The Cleaner from its case and checked to make sure it was fully loaded. He shoved all the shells he could fit into his pockets and cocked it one handed, then grabbed up Judgment in the other hand. He then ran around to the passenger side door and jerked it open. He grabbed the sheathed Bowie knife from the floor board and tucked it into his belt.
"Henry, you've got to get this sucker started or we're all dead," Jake yelled scanning the highway with his light.
"I'm trying damn it! I'm trying! It won't start."
Chris grabbed his rifle and scanned the horizon around him. “Damn, I wish I had a night vision scope! I can’t see shit!”
"Here!" Henry said, pulling the Sig Sauer from the holster at his hip and holding it out for Chris to take. “Just in case.”
Chris grabbed it, popped the clip, making sure it was fully loaded and slammed it back into place, then stuck it into his belt. "This is not good!" Chris said pointing his rifle out into the darkness.
"No shit!" Jake said covering the other side of the road with the flashlight.
“Where the hell are all the bodies?" Chris said staring at the twisted remains of the bikes.
"They were all turned," a voice called seemingly out of nowhere.
Chris and Jake instantly had their guns pointed in the direction of the voice. A half second later Henry was at their side with his hand cannon held firmly in both hands.
"Who's there?" Jake called out. "Show yourself or we'll start blasting."
"I don’t think you want to do that," the voice called back stepping closer to them.
Jake's flashlight flashed across a young man's face.
"What’s up Jake?" the Maker smiled. “How’s it hanging?”
"Vampire!" Jake called out, warning the others.
Both Chris and Henry didn't hesitate. The three of them fired in unison. Their bullets tore into the Maker, turning his body into Swiss cheese. One of Henry's bullets severed his leg just below the knee.
“Goddamn!” the vampire cried out from the pavement. “What the hell is wrong with you people?!”
"Damn Henry!" Chris said after the shooting was over. "What caliber is that?"
"This little baby?" Henry said, holding up the giant ten-inch barreled weapon. "Is a .44 caliber Colt Anaconda. Good for killing two things, grizzlies and vampires."
“And for shooting people’s legs off!” The vampire yelled, flipping over onto his back. “You fat redneck bastard!”
Jake walked up to the bloodied vampire and pointed the barrel of The Cleaner to his forehead then put the head of his axe up to the Maker’s throat. "So long blood sucker!" he said, rearing back for a chop.
"Wait!" he cried out spitting thick black blood all over his chest. "I came to help you."
"Bullshit. Why would I trust a monster like you? Look around you, your kind just wiped out a lot of good hunters. Well . . . maybe not good but they were hunters."
"I had nothing to do with that," he said between coughs. "I swear to God, man, I came here to help you."
"Sure you did."
"Just kill it, Jake, before it regenerates," Chris said.
"If you kill me you will be killing the only chance you have at getting back at those that killed your friends and family."
"I don't need your help,” Jake replied. “We'll rebuild and come back stronger than ever. You're kind will never prevail."
"Maybe not, but neither will your kind. You people don't even have a grasp on how our world works. You'll never beat us taking us out one, two, maybe three at a time."
"So what? You're here to tell me all your dark dirty secrets?"
"Yeah! That was the general idea. At least before you filled me full of holes!”
“If you’ve got a point to make, make it,” Henry said. “Otherwise I can end your whining right now.”
“Fine, look the sun will be up soon so I don’t have long. I took a big risk showing myself to you. I never dreamed you would shoot me!"
“I know you, don’t I?” Jake asked lowering his axe.
“Ya think?!” the Maker replied sitting up on the pavement. “I’ve only saved your life three or four times.”
“Michael?”
“That’s me!” he extended his hand to shake. Jake didn’t take it. “Fine then, be a dick.” He fell back on his elbows.
“Can one of you hand me my leg? It will take forever if I have to grow the damn thing back.”
“You were there the night Macro attacked Riker’s.”
“I was there, and I met one of your cellmates.”
Tiberius?" Jake said, handing him back his shredded leg.
"Yep,” he said taking the leg and putting it up to a bloody bone protruding from his knee. “I also know he considered you his friend, that the two of you spent some time talking together?"
The three men watched in both horror and awe as the flesh from the knee gripped onto the lower leg and began wi
nding itself around it. “Neat trick,” Henry said.
“Yeah, it sure comes in handy when some trigger happy cowboy decides to shoot first and ask questions later.” He grimaced as he flexed his knee. “Glad to see my tax dollars are hard at work. You owe me a new pair of pants.”
"Who is Tiberius?" Chris interrupted.
"An old friend," Jake said, letting the vampire rise to his regenerated feet.
"You're letting him up?" Chris exclaimed. "Are you nuts?!"
"It's okay Chris. If he makes any rash moves, Henry, put one of those massive bullets of yours into his brain."
“Yeah Henry, try and shoot me again with that canon and see what happens,” the vampire said stretching from foot to foot.
Chris pointed his rifle at the Maker’s head.
“Look . . . I’m only kidding. I won't hurt you. I won't hurt any of you. You guys are probably the only allies I have left."
"Okay. Let’s say I believe you. Who the hell are you? I mean really? Why do you keep saving my skin?"
"My name is Michael. Michael Riker. Your mother was my baby sister."
"Bullshit!" Jake said, growing angry.
"You may not want to hear it, but it's the truth. Your mother's name is Julia Jenna Riker. She was born August 3, 1963 to Richard and Tammy Riker. I was twelve years old the day she was brought into this world."
"So you are what? My Uncle?"
“Yep, your dirty old vampire, Uncle Mike. I don’t get invites to the reunion, hell I don’t even get a phone call on my birthday. The family black sheep.”
"He's telling the truth, Jake.” Henry said, “The Riker family murders is what got me on the vampire trail. Of course I didn’t know it at the time . . . it was way back in the sixties. I've seen pictures of this guy before; your mother said he was kidnapped."
"I've been watching over you for as long as you've been alive, Jacob Michael Bishop.” He smiled, “Michael, I love it, after all these years she still saw fit to name you after me,” he chuckled. “I was there the night you were born, even met your old man in the hospital. I was watching the night you two escaped from your home in Midland. I helped you escape from my Stepfather’s shitty little prison the night Macro and his enforcers came looking for you. I tossed you into the woods so the Monkeys would protect you. I even convinced Richard to give up custody of you. I told him it would be in his best interest to leave you alone.
"Monkeys? You’re talking about the Watchers, Nathan, Mr. Orwell . . . Chef, and their friends aren’t you?"
"Yeah, they were guarding Tiberius. In case he somehow escaped, something to do with a treaty. I don’t really know all of the details. Macro and myself barely made it back across the border with our lives. The rest of his little bitch boy crew were killed. Man, I caught one hell of an ass whipping for that." Michael grimaced at the memory. “Macro was not happy. Twelve Immortals, or as you call us, vampires, killed just like that," he said, snapping his fingers. “Those monkeys are some tough sons of bitches.”
"Okay, timeout. I'm missing something here, just what in the hell are you two talking about? Monkeys in the woods, that kill vampires? Tiberius? Macro?" Henry holstered his pistol. “Jake . . . what are you talking about?”
“The Watchers are our allies,” Chris answered for him. “Well, sort of . . . it’s complicated. As for Tiberius, I haven’t the slightest idea. Who are you talking about, Jake?”
"It's a long story, guys," Jake said, letting out a deep breath.
Michael’s eyes turned dark red and he started sniffing the air. All three men pointed their guns at him.
"What is it? What's wrong?" Jake asked.
"They have your scent and are on the way. The bikers, plus three Makers."
“Oh crap," Chris said.
"How many total?" Jake yelled walking back around to the back of the Suburban and searching his bag for more ammo.
"Nine."
"Is Turner one of them? Did they turn him?"
"They did. He's a Maker now, but he’s not with them."
"What about Buck?"
"Turner's boy? The asshole with the long hair? Why would you care about what happened to him? I saw what he did to you back at the motel.”
"You know a lot Michael, I will give you that, but Buck is one of us. Is he dead? Or is he one of your kind now?"
Michael let out a deep sigh. "He's alive. About fifty yards in that direction," he pointed out into the field. "I'm not sure why they didn't kill him, or turn him for that matter. He's hurt but his heartbeat is strong."
Jake took off jogging toward the field. "Buck!" he screamed out. "Buck!"
"Chris, help me search these wrecks for weapons,” Henry said. “These guys were hunters after all. There's got to be something left."
"Good idea," Chris replied, starting his search.
"We don't have time for this, Jake!" Michael yelled. "They will be here soon and these assholes are ready to eat!"
"Seriously Jake. Buck is an A1 nut job like his old man. Just leave him." Chris yelled.
"We're not leaving him! We've lost enough already. Not one more hunter dies tonight! Not one more!" Jake yelled back at him.
"Hey I found a sawed off with about six rounds of ammunition!" Chris yelled out.
"Plenty of weapons, just not any ammo." Henry said, tossing an empty AR15 to the ground with a clack. "Wait, wait. Here we go! Got a Mac 10 here in this guys’ saddle bags. I don't think he even got a chance to pull it. Poor bastard," Henry said, popping the clip out of the weapon. "Looks like one full clip."
"Jake!" They are less than a two miles out now. They know I'm here with you." Michael yelled.
"Then go if you're so afraid! We'll do this alone," Jake said continuing his search.
Michael put his hand up to his head and shook it. "All right then. I'll do this the hard way." He took two steps toward the side of the road.
"Where the hell do you think you're going?" Henry said cocking the Mac 10.
"I'm going to go buy you some time. See if I can't stop them."
"Just like that?" Henry asked.
"You got any better ideas?"
"No, not really. But if you're going to go, why not improve your chances. Take this." Henry said handing the Mac 10 to him. “The safety is off all you have to do is pull the trigger. Chris, bring me that sawed off. Let’s give this guy a little edge over his buddies."
"Good idea," Michael said taking a gun in each hand. "Ranger, listen to me,” he said where Chris and Jake wouldn’t hear. “Whatever happens, you've got to get Jake out of here. They killed everyone, tonight. Your people and mine. We are all that’s left. They used John to get to Ben Morris. Then they used Morris. So you have to get these kids across the Mississippi River, they won't cross that. I'll meet you on this side of the river on Interstate 20 in five days time."
"Sure thing pal, but even with weapons, nine on one is pretty bad odds."
"Yeah," Michael said extending his fangs and talons causing Henry to jump. "Maybe I should give them the guns, make it a little more even." And just like that he was gone into the night.
"Think he stands a chance?" Chris asked.
"I don't know, but I'll tell you what I do know, this guy isn’t just your average every day vampire," Henry said.
"Buck!" Jake continued yelling. "Buck!"
Finally he stumbled across him lying unconscious in the middle of the field. One of his arms was badly broken and his hair was matted with blood. "Buck." Jake said, kneeling down next to him. "Buck!" he said even louder nudging him with his boot.
"Huh?" Buck said coming to. "What's going on?"
"You got your ass kicked that's what. But at least you're still alive."
"Bishop? What are you doing here?"
"I'm here to save your ass. Can you move?"
"They took my dad, Jake. They took him! The guys too! All of them. They just came out of nowhere and slaughtered us."
"I know, Buck. But right now we've got more important things to worry about. Th
ere's a whole lot more headed this way."
"Just leave me. Get the hell out of here."
"You know I can't do that. What's the first rule Sgt. Major Castle taught us?"
Buck let out a weak laugh. "If you want to be warm tonight you better chop some wood."
Jake couldn't help but laugh, "Okay his second rule. Never leave a man behind. Now come on, we're all stuck in this together now." Jake put his arm under Buck and helped him to his feet.
"Where’s your ride?" Buck asked.
"It’s trashed. We're stuck."
"Let’s just take a couple of bikes then."
"Can’t they are all trashed too."
"You sure? Dad and I were at the back of the pack. He had to stop a couple of miles back to take a piss. We stopped short after the others got hit. Hid our bikes in the tall grass not far from here."
"So you mean to tell me there are two running bikes just a few yards from here?"
"Should be unless the vampires took them."
The boom of a sawed off shotgun and the ratatatat of a submachine gun sounded not far away.
"What the hell is that?" Buck said, looking toward the gunfire.
"Someone trying to buy us some time. Now show me where those bikes are and we'll get the hell out of here."
******
“Michael! You traitor! You’ll pay for this!”
Michael reached down and grabbed a hold of the young Maker’s arms, then pulled jerking them completely off his body eliciting a terrible scream. The other eight Immortals lay scattered in pieces over at least two acres of land. “Your masters put me in this position, Clay. I served the Council loyally for over twenty years and how did they repay me? By killing everything and everyone I ever loved. And then, and then they took her away from me! My last shred of humanity!”
“Put it however you like, you’re a traitor! Do you think the humans will welcome you in with open arms? That they will forgive the lives you’ve taken? They will tie you down and leave you in the sun! You are a fool!”
Michael smiled, “Maybe, but at least I still have all my appendages. Can’t say the same for you and your friends.” Michael reached down and with one hand, snapped Clay’s head from his spinal column and tossed it hundreds of yards away.
C.O.T.V.H. (Book 3): Extermination Page 13
