Vampire (Alpha Claim 8-Final Enforcement): New Adult Paranormal Romance (Vampire Alpha Claim)

by Eros, Marata

  Alex was hanging on for dear life and Carson lay in an unceremonious heap on the ground. Good. One down—three to go.

  Barbie had her head buried in Bry's chest. Traitorous bitch .

  “Alex, let go!” I screamed, watching blisters form on his arm as he tried to find purchase somewhere to take care of Brody who had singed half of my gophers. Their bodies smoked in a grisly heap that smelled like garbage and raw meat. I heard a girl start throwing up by the car.

  No distractions , I needed to get control of this little disaster.

  My zombies were strangling Diego, even though he probably was deserving. Ah-hell. “Stop strangling him,” I said.

  They slowed down but weren't stopping.

  I guess I had to really mean it.

  Huh.

  “Stop!” I yelled, with real intent.

  They dropped him like a hot rock, their gaze swinging to me.

  Just then, a cop car pulled up.

  Well shit.

  Garcia got out, his baton leaving its sheathing as his foot found the ground. In one fluid motion he jogged over to where I stood. Taking in the scene must have been something. The charred gophers, the unconscious kids lying about, the girls at the car spraying vomit.

  I bet it looked pretty bad.

  “What in the Sam Hill is going on here?” he asked, his eyes roving the corpses, the kids lying around.

  Jonesy broke in, “Well, it's like this...”

  “Ah-uh, not you.” He pointed at Jonesy. “You wouldn't tell me something straight if your life depended on it.”

  Busted .

  Jonesy's mouth closed with a snap.

  Gale came over with her hand pressed over her mouth, the smell was that bad. Rank .

  “This looks really bad,” Gale said, getting a load of the zombies.

  She and Garcia stared at the Indians. The Indians stared back. “Are they-are they... what I think they are?” She was AFTD, wasn't Gale getting a sense of them?

  I nodded.

  “We are Skopamish, female,” Lead Zombie said.

  The copsʼ mouths actually fell open and I smiled. In the middle of this chaotic mess, I smiled. I suddenly remembered Jade and turning around I spied her next to Sophie. Jade was patting her back as she did the psychedelic yawn. Huh, alright-y then.

  She gave a small wave back.

  Garcia visibly came to himself. “Okay, we have zombies and,” he looked at the gophers, a couple still milled around my feet, groveling and mewling, “and moles?”

  “Gophers,” I said.

  “Right.” Gale just stood there staring stupidly. “Why don't you go see how the girls are doing?” Garcia directed her.

  They were still barfing, that's how they were doing.

  He looked back at me, the zombies stared, and the gophers mewled. Carson lay on the ground, Brett was walking toward us and Diego was coming to his senses (whatever those were) on the ground, bruises blooming on his neck as we spoke.

  Garcia stared. Finally saying, “There seems to be a trend here.”

  I opened my mouth to respond and he held his hand up. “The whole summer passes, without incident . Then,” he swiped his palm at the carnage, “this starts happening again.” He stuffed his baton back and put his hands on his hips, one eye on the zombies, who stared unnervingly back.

  “Officer Gale,” Garcia called loudly, his eyes never leaving mine.

  She jogged over. “Yes?”

  “Are we going to need back-up for this little catastrophe?”

  Her gaze met mine. I shrugged. I didn't know what the plan was. Crap like this happened enough that it was feeling alarmingly normal.

  “Can you—” he pointed to the zombies, a tomahawk in each hand.

  Hell, that made six total . I could see by his face that Jonesy was checking out the weaponry count as well.

  “—neutralize this?”

  Gale gave him a condescending look. “ Definitely, Raul. I think I can make them, pause... for like, I don't know, three seconds ... before they scoop our eyes out with an arrowhead.”

  “Thanks. That's just what I wanted to hear. Comforting,” Garcia responded.

  “Well! He's a five-point Garcia, unless you're willing to shoot him; he's in charge here, this is his corpse party.”

  They both looked at me. I guess there was no explaining everything.

  I tried for the truth; I'd had moderate success with that before.

  “I came over to see Jade.” She slid up beside me, putting her hand in mine. “And this turd...” I looked over at Brett, who glared back.

  “Caleb.” Garcia warned.

  “Okay, Brett-boy , came over here and stuffed his nose in our business, then he forced Jade to kiss him! I couldn't let that go!”

  “Officer Gale.”

  “Yes.”

  “Please see if the rest of the kids are alive.”

  “Yes, sir,” Gale said, making her way to where Carson lay. His chest was rising and falling. He was gonna live.

  Garcia watched my indifferent assessment of Carson, he sighed. “Caleb, why are we here doing this again?”

  “He's kinda a perv-rapist type, that's why,” I countered.

  Brett came at me then and I was ready for it. He barreled into me, knocking Jade over as he did and I released her hand so she wouldn't get dragged down with the two of us.

  He managed a good jab to my chin. Hell that hurt, same spot , and I jerked my knee up for a ball-cruncher and he deflected, but it caught enough of his nuts to make his teeth ache. He rolled over on his side just as Garcia grabbed both our hands, bending our thumbs back to meet our wrists. We howled in unison.

  “Knock this shit off!” he roared, patience gone.

  “Raul! Look out.”

  Too late.

  The zombies really take exception to my pain, I guess.

  Lead Zombie had Officer Garcia's head leaning back, fingers sunk into his hair, the neck a long, clean line for the taking, the metal from the tomahawk winking in the sun.

  I screamed, “Stop!” for the first time since this happened feeling like someone may die because of my choices.

  The war cries broke the air in a shattering shriek that made my ears ring and my gorge rise.

  Alex saved it. Using his wounded forearm, he struck the zombie hard in the chest, the tomahawk falling away in a spinning arc, embedding itself in the gate. The gate swung closed from the impact, at the same time my zombie hit the fence, flying through it.

  Garcia was still battling the other two, Brett and my hands long-released from his grip.

  “Stop!” I told them and they did. Standing straight to look at me.

  Lead Zombie was trying to make his way back through a fence that now looked like it had missing teeth of wood. Leave it to a zombie to try and use the same route. No going through the gate or something simple like that. Oh no, same old same.

  Garcia looked like he'd had his bell rung but he got to his feet. He saw Chief Zombie advancing. “Can you make him stop?”

  “Not if you pull another ʻsubdueʼ number like ya did,” I said.

  “Raul, he's right. We know now that all the C-Ms have zombie loyalty,” Gale said.

  Hadn't learned about that in my AFTD class yet. All I knew, for a certainty, was that my dead battalion would pull out a can of whoop ass if I was threatened. Screw “zombie loyalty,” more like, “zombie vengeance.” It kinda made the line black and white. Sometimes it was nice not to have ambiguity. I smiled at my internal vocab, must've knocked something loose in the scuffle.

  Another cop car pulled up. Cripes, was the whole world oʼ cops gonna show up?

  John Smith, the Null, got out of his vehicle and I swear the tension notched up. As a matter of fact, I know it did because my zombies moved closer to me and got their weapons ready.

  All the human emotions were leaking all over everyone and the zombies were gearing up for battle.

  Holy hell.

  The kids were all around the cops and zombies no
w. As I looked around I noticed that the girls were the only ones that weren't beat up. Well, I guess Tiff was because she got hit by Diego. So, the Weller kids were gonna go home all beat up. Again .

  Figure the odds on that happening?

  “What's going on here?” Smith asked, taking in the mess. Then, as he looked, really looked, he asked, “Are those Indians?”

  “We are Skopamish, white skin,” Lead Zombie said with a tone.

  Smith humphed, staring a second longer he shook his head. “Okay, I got the call for backup. What's the problem officers?” Then he caught sight of the pile of gophers and the lingering smell.

  “Wait a sec, are these guys,” he gestured toward the zombies, “are they dead?”

  “Yeah,” I said.

  “Wow,” Smith whistled. “I know I shouldn’t say it but, I couldn't tell .”

  “Yeah, I borrowed some juice from the girls by accident.”

  “Not very good control, Caleb,” Smith chastised.

  Details, details. I shrugged my shoulders , so sue me.

  “Okay, let's get the chief here and his crew, back where they belong.” He suddenly noticed the vermin running around. “And these guys too. I have to say, Caleb, they're sort of creepy.”

  “Yeah, I know.”

  “Ya think?” Barbie/Christi said helpfully.

  Bry tried to shush her but, of course, to no avail, she was just one of those chicks that never got when to shut up . She was a believer in Going On.

  The zombies were not believers , picking up on everyone’s mutual prissiness with olʼ Christi, they moved as one and latched on to her arms.

  Lead Zombie leaning close to her face, he laid the only dull part of his blade against the underside of her jaw.

  Bry blared, “Caleb!”

  “Hang on, it's lesson time for Barbie,” I said.

  “You would do very well to hold that pretty tongue of yours when our Master has utterance. Tongues can be severed.” He stroked the underside of her chin with a feather's touch, a degree of finesse I would not have thought possible with a weapon like that. But he managed, oh yes indeedy.

  I watched Christi's eyes roll up in her head right before she dropped like a box of rocks in a dead faint.

  Well hell, that was super-effective.

  Jonesy was restraining the urge for a high five. I couldn't believe it. I think it was the first time I'd witnessed Jonesy actually thinking first.

  The zombies lowered her gently to the ground. These guys were smart. They reminded me of Clyde , I thought, having a pang of nostalgia.

  “Caleb,” Smith said.

  “You've had your fun,” Garcia said.

  I narrowed my eyes at him, he was not getting it. “Listen, this dill-weed came on to my girlfriend, by force , started this effing brawl, then, when us freshmen couldn't defend ourselves against the upper classmen and then they started hitting the girls. What else could I do?”

  Garcia turned his attention to Diego and Brody, his eyes like slits.

  Out came the notepad.

  Well, finally . Maybe he meant business.

  He did.

  “Names?”

  “Raul,” Smith said.

  “What?” Irritated.

  “Let's take care of this first.” Smith said, jerking his head toward the Indian Tribe.

  “Right,” he said, tapping his pen on his notepad, then closing it with a snap.

  He turned to me. “Caleb, make these Indians,” the zombies turned their dead gaze his way, “ah... Skopamish ... go away.”

  I looked at my zombies, then at the pile of dead gophers (really dead, as it turns out because by God, fire was a zombie-cure-all).

  I summoned that fist of power. It came, like water cascading down rocks, it flowed through me and out my hands and into my zombies, who threw back their heads, lips slightly parted. The power felt good for them too. Right, natural .

  I said, “Go and rest.”

  Lead Zombie lingered, thoughtfully looking at me, then turned, sprinting. They used the gate this time, disappearing through it silently, as silently as they'd appeared.

  CHAPTER TEN

  I had Jade stuffed under my arm, her head just brushing my chin. Garcia and Gale were taking statements while Smith and John talked quietly by Bry's hunk-of-shit car.

  I bet they had a lot to talk about.

  Gale had all the stuff spread out on the grass from her first aid kit and was trying to patch up all the kids. The Js and I looked a little worse for wear but didn't need attention like Diego and Alex. Alex had gotten his arm cooked and it was a blistering mess. The older two boys were giving him wary eyes. He was worth pause. He had shoved a zombie, which then traveled fifteen feet and blew through the fence. Not any zombie either, a warrior Indian. Skopamish . I was thinking about how they were a nearly humorless people; sitting there stone-faced during the whole incident.

  Except for Carson getting the lick treatment. That had been worth nearly the entire episode.

  “What's so funny?” Jonesy asked me.

  “I was just thinking how funny it was that Carson almost got frenched by my zombie.”

  Jonesy nodded, agreeing. “It's some kind of perv-fetish I bet. He denies it but we know the truth .” He tapped his head, feelinʼ the moment. John nodded and Carson strode over to me.

  “Shut your effing mouth, Hart. If you were normal this conversation wouldn't be happening, we wouldn't be here,” he said, his eyes shifting over to the cops who had stopped their processes to look at us.

  “Caleb, those types of comments aren't helpful.” Garcia said in a tone of voice that clearly said, duh .

  Carson smiled triumphantly. My next comment wiped the grin right off his face. “And you're so normal ? You and your buddy Diego? How normal is it for you to shove your girlfriend?” I looked over at Ceci standing with Tiff.

  “He didn't shove me that hard!” Ceci said defiantly.

  “I doubt your dad would see it that way,” Garcia said, giving her a steady look. She cast her eyes to the ground, moving a pebble with her shoe.

  There was no accounting for taste but her defending Carson was wrong on about a hundred different levels.

  “And then your classy friend smacked Tiff.” I looked over at her, a red welt on her face with a small cut, punctuating my point.

  “So, if we're just talking normal, I think you're on the losing end. And,” I held my finger up, “I'd say you being a Fire-starter puts you on equal footing when it comes to paranormal weirdness, ya tool.”

  Carson was just not bright enough to connect-the-dots, but he was just smart enough to know that I was showcasing him in the worst possible way.

  It was easy, he was such a dick.

  He came for me, reaching out and grabbing onto my forearm and I wrapped mine around his as Jade backed away. I used his own momentum against him, carrying him over my extended leg in a judo move that was one of the first I'd learned. Carson pinwheeled his arms, dropping on his back on the ground, his painful grip on my arm never lessening.

  His eyes bored into mine and he squeezed out, “Your deadness is not going to put out my fire, freak .”

  Jonesy poked his head in next to mine. “Glad you're a fan, dipshit.”

  Garcia tromped over, tore Carson off the ground and glared at me pointing. “Get in the car, Caleb.”

  Ahhhh . Banished to the disgusting back-of-the-cop car, again .

  Brother.

  Jade covered her mouth so the smile wouldn't show and I gave a half-hearted wave as I grinned back.

  Not just a corpse raiser.

  I watched through the window of the cruiser, trying not to touch anything while the cops milled around administering first aid. Garcia had his finger practically up Carson's nose, his attention shifting between him and Diego. Obviously, beating girls got his ire on line.

  Good, I hope those losers get what's coming.

  Gale, Smith and Garcia finished up and with his trademark notepad put away, he walked over to t
he car, the girls trailing after him.

  Garcia ripped open the car door. “Get out, Caleb.”

  I got out.

  I could tell that Garcia was steaminʼ-pissed. “This will go down in your permanent record, Caleb. You've already got your get-out-of-jail-free card, but you have to start taking responsibility for your ability.”

  What was that “card” he was talking about?

  He looked at my face, sighing. “Never mind, what I'm saying is—when things get hairy, you can't just call out the dead.”

  “Why not?” Jonesy asked logically.

  He looked at him, Jonesy stared back; no question was off limits to the Jonester.

  “Because it incites the violence that escalated today,” Garcia said.

  Jonesy and the group gave him blank expressions.

  “What Officer Garcia is saying,” Smith began, and Garcia gave him annoyed eyes. He forged ahead, “is that if you guys had just beaten the snot out of each other, it would have just gone away . When you brought out the zombies, Carson and Diego had to bring out the flames.”

  “So no more Team Rot?” Jonesy clarified.

  Garcia threw his arms up and stalked off.

  Gale gave him a sympathetic look, coming to stand next to Smith, her small body in sharp contrast to his. “We can't show favoritism, Caleb. We know those other kids,” (who had been given their walking papers, I noticed), “they're bad news. But if we're to be impartial we have to weigh that you had an army of undead...”

  “And vermin,” Smith added.

  “Gophers,” I corrected.

  He shuddered. “Whatever.”

  Gale gave him a sideways look and continued, “As guys , they felt like once that barrier had been passed, they had to ʻone-upʼ you.”

  “Is that a technical term?” Smith asked.

  She smiled. “Yeah.”

  “So what is the report?” I asked.

  Her look was steady. “Basically, you're on everyone's radar as ʻwilling to useʼ.”

  “Is that another ʻtechnical termʼ?” John asked.