by CD Brown
Sophia sat upright when she heard this. “You mean…”
“Yeah. I got you a sunsuit.”
Jeremiah had squeezed the headless body out of the sunsuit after he’d figured out the complicated zippering system. He’d rolled the body into the back courtyard where the sun shone, watching the flesh go poof in a very quick conflagration. After giving the suit a once over, he realized he’d ripped a hole in the front, but Sophia was sure the people at the plant could fix that.
She gave the suit her own once over, climbing in to see if it would fit. Too big and long for her compact body, she found it unwieldy but not impossible to walk. It would work in an emergency but might get in the way if she had to go mano a mano. Maybe she could get it altered, but that wasn’t important right now. The real importance was to stop the attacks by eliminating the threat.
She checked in with VampAmp to see how the rest of the night went. Maisie had been waiting for her call.
“We were, like, worried. Not too much, ‘though. Just pretty much.”
“I had a good bodyguard. How did everybody else make out.”
“We only got one kill video posted. I asked around, but this vamp was a real loner. He was way out in the Valley and never really socialized except for some paranoid rants on the boards.”
“What kind of stuff?”
“Mostly about the shadow government and Illuminati. I mean, that’s, like, human stuff. Like, who cares?”
Sophia told her about Jeremiah and the sunsuit. Maisie transferred her to Pamela.
“Great news! And it’s still useable?”
“Yes and no. It’s seriously not my size, but someone like Horton would be, well, comfortable isn’t the right word. Mobile.”
“So what do we do now?”
“Continue keeping watch. Flood the boards because we need as many daywalkers as we can to keep the carnage to an absolute minimum. I’m going to see if Myra was serious.”
“Serious about what?”
“Serious about helping.”
Sophia e-mailed the rogue vamp at 9 o’clock. In the last week, Myra had sent her first covert communication, but besides a polite reply, Sophia hadn’t contacted her yet. With tonight’s message out, all she could do was wait. She ran two meetings and had a lengthy conversation with the Pasadena suit people before finally getting a call from an unknown number at 3 a.m.
“I know I took a long time, but I needed a reason to extricate myself.”
“Did he send you out on one of these missions?”
“He wanted to, but I’m not strong enough to face the sun yet. It takes real power to get out there. Only the vamps turned before the ‘50s have managed.”
“How does he feel now that we’ve figured him out?”
“He doesn’t care. He wanted to send a message and put the fear of death in everyone. He thinks he succeeded.”
“He did. I hate that he’s always one step ahead of us. I want to strike back. Hit him now while he feels in control.”
The line fell silent for a moment. Myra returned but spoke in a whisper.
“The best thing to do is get the suits. If we take them away, he’ll lose a great advantage.”
“True enough. But wouldn’t that be risky?”
“Yes. They’re always guarded. But not by him and not by more than a couple of vamps. You and me in a quick strike could do it.”
Sophia paused. The last time Myra got her alone, she almost got killed. But she had to at least exhibit some trust.
“Okay. Send me the details. When will we do this?”
“Two nights from now. Dad won’t be anywhere near the place.”
Chapter Twenty-three
“It’s a trap.” Jeremiah and Sophia were waiting the next night for the first meeting to begin. His enthusiasm was low for the raid on Fudgie’s sunsuit collection.
Sophia kicked her feet up on a chair. “There’s two things that could happen here. Either she’s on the up-and-up and we get the sunsuits…”
“Or the more likely…”
“It’s a trap. And she tries to take me down.”
“That’s a real long shot just to get a few new toys.”
“Oh, you think I’m following her directions? Hell, no. She hasn’t earned that trust. Uh-uh. You and a few others will be there to have my back.”
Jeremiah nodded and looked satisfied with her answer. “Okay, then. That’s what I wanted to hear.”
“I’m gonna call Tamar and maybe get a few other Muertos to tag along.” Jeremiah looked sideways at Sophia, a move he did when he wanted something but wasn’t sure how to ask. “Spit it out. I can only say no.”
“You know I’ve been spending a lot of time down at VampAmp.”
“I’ve noticed. Seems strange to me, but if you like hanging out down there.”
“See, those millennial vamps don’t have the same prejudices as you old people. They kinda dig having lycanthropes around.”
“Lycanthropes? As in plural?”
“They got a few wolfies who come in and out. They want to do a start-up for my people and they’re getting some advice. VampAmp might just fund the whole thing.”
“That’s nice, but do you have a point?”
“Maisie and Horton feel y’all don’t trust them in a fight. Like they’re being coddled ‘cause they’re young and a little nerdy.”
“You want me to bring them along, two who are untested in a fight, when my life is on the line?”
“Them plus Tamar. I’ve seen them work; they can be fierce.”
“Would you want them as backup?”
“Yes, I would.” He looked sincere but not wholly convinced of his own line. But those kids needed to test their mettle.
“Okay, Tamar, one other Muerto and those two.”
“Plus me.”
“Always, baby.”
The warehouse was in Vernon, a very small incorporated city just outside of L.A. proper but still in the same county. Known mostly for its casino, card-playing-only houses not as freewheeling as Vegas but just as willing to take your money, it is also full of industrial buildings and factories which keep the local air on the dingy side of brown. The population was under 1000 for all of the business activity, meaning the city had a reputation as corrupt. If this place was Fudgie’s hideout, he’d fit right in.
The place was just on the east side of the Los Angeles River, the concrete path pretending to be a waterway, on a block where ten-story buildings sit cheek-by-jowl and wait to be filled up with the contents of shipping containers hauled directly from the port due south in Long Beach. The building height created a shadowy street, but lamps attached at the one-story level created pools of light for any luckless pedestrian who needed to walk these eerily quiet streets.
Sophia met Myra at the only sign of life in a ten-block radius, a gas station that was empty except for the Indian man behind the counter and the obese homeless woman who’d built up a trash castle on the corner.
Myra descended from the sky, coalescing from her mist form across the street. Vernon Avenue was busy with 18 wheelers during daylight, but now Myra could sprint across without looking both ways.
“You ready?” Myra may have been talking about switching sides, but she hadn’t changed looks. She still had the trucker cap and leather jacket, but she’d switched her ripped jeans for faux-leather tights.
“I need to know what to expect in there.”
Myra started walking, so Sophia fell in next to her. She wasn’t sure if the mic she was wearing was broadcasting to Jeremiah, but hoped it was doing its job. “There’s a special buzzer code to get in since the security cameras are useless. I’ll pause in the doorway to let you in. There’s a coat rack just inside the door. There should be enough room for you to hide there.”
“Okay, but where are the suits?”
“They’re in the security office. That’s where the two will be. We can dust them if you want.”
Sophia wanted to do exactly that but needed to keep some options open. “Le
t’s see what they do, where they go. We can use them if they stay with us.”
They got to the block. Myra walked alone, just in case anyone should exit while she approached. Sophia stuck to the shadows, ready to move on command. Myra looked both ways, head on a swivel style, then approached the buzzer. She pressed it in a one-two-three, one-two pattern that repeated twice.
“Was that ‘Louie, Louie’?”
“Dad always loved that song.”
The door buzzed and the latch clicked. Myra pushed it open, stepped forward, then held. She looked over her shoulder as if she had forgotten something, giving Sophia enough time to flash behind her and into the building. The coat nook was right there, so Sophia slid in, sitting down with her back to the wall.
Myra let the door close with a slam. She turned to Sophia, then smiled like a wicked child caught in a lie. She turned away, then flashed off.
After Myra disappeared, bright white light emblazoned the enormous warehouse. Sophia recognized the brilliance and temperature as the bulbs she’d seen at Tamar’s house, the kind that fry vamps. She spoke out loud so Jeremiah could hear: “I’m trapped. They have sunlight spots.”
Since the communication was one way, she had no idea if they were coming to help her, so she stood and prepared to fight. She peeked out of her corner: the coverage was imperfect, leaving her a few paths to follow in the rows of pallets and boxes wrapped in plastic. But coming up the main aisle were ten bodies wrapped in sunsuits.
“And they have protection,” she said before diving across the aisle to a four-foot circle of darkness. She knew she had to keep close to the door, but she also had to fight. Either way, she wasn’t free to move which diminished her strengths.
After thirty seconds, four of the suited vamps turned the corner. They grabbed at her limbs, not trying to rough her up but instead wanting to get a good hold so they could drag her into the light. She hoped they were mostly men, kicking at the crotches of her attackers. This was still a soft spot for the undead.
She nailed one who dropped to his knees, but the other three used all of their hands to push her into the stacks so as to lock her down. Sophia decided the best place to go was up.
As the one to her far left bent to push her again, she launched off of his knee with her left foot, shoulder with the right, and up to the top of the container. But as she landed, her right hand pressed into a shaft of light. The pain was immediate, but she pulled it back before it caught on fire. She had to shimmy on her back below a beam to keep from getting further fried.
But the suited vamps didn’t need to worry. Three soon climbed up near her, running as fast as they could in their burly armor. Sophia looked to both sides and saw the darkness was wider on her right. She waited for one of them to come right up to her, then kicked him straight in the chest. He flew back, picking off the other two as he careened backwards. She rolled and dropped to the safe side.
At this point, she heard a banging on the front door. Her cavalry was here but trapped outside. As she stood and looked down her hallway, she saw a wide beam five feet in front of her fill the entire span to the main aisle which had some shadow. Blocking her way were two more of her enemies.
She paused, letting them approach. They were more careful than their comrades on top of the stacks. Sophia slashed across the left one’s belly, but her claws couldn’t pierce the thick material. With her wrist right in front of him, the right one latched onto her and pulled her towards the brightness. She knew she had to make it to the door, so she gambled.
With a flip of her arm, she reversed the grip so that she held his wrist. She flung him out to the right and flipped him onto her back. With her left hand, she grabbed his free wrist and brought both of her arms in tight under her torso. With the suited vamp on her back like the world’s most uncomfortable papoose, she hoped he would provide enough cover for her to sprint through the blazing white.
Unencumbered by the heavy suit, she was able to move quickly. As she got to the shadowed corner, she slammed the vamp forward onto his neck. She heard the sickening crack, knowing he wasn’t dead but would be out of commission for at least fifteen minutes. She smelled smoke and beat the back of her neck as a few wisps of her hair had been lit up. The door was fifteen feet from her and clear, but she’d have to go through a thin shaft of light to get there.
Since she had barely ever done it, she had no idea if the mist form would be affected by light. She decided she didn’t have a choice. She drifted through the light, feeling a sting, but not any permanent damage. As she reappeared by the door, the ten formed a terrifying semi-circle, ready to charge.
She pulled open the door and her backup team looked tense, except for Jeremiah who dived right in, fully possum and heading to the ceiling to take out the lights. Horton handed her a knife that was hooked at the end.
“This’ll cut through the suits.”
“Are you sure?”
“We tested them yesterday.”
The door closed behind them, they waited for the charge. It came within seconds, the attackers keeping to the same strategy as before: drag them to the light. But when Maisie stepped forward, fierce look on her face, and ripped a slice in an attacker’s suit from armpit to thigh, all of them jumped back.
A shot rang out. From the very back of the warehouse, a suited vamp, standing next to Myra, had fired an automatic pistol up at Jeremiah. But he had missed as the giant rodent hooked his whole body out of the way. With a swing of his paw, he smashed out one of the lights with a loud popping noise, giving the invaders more room to fight.
While Sophia slashed in front of her, she heard Tamar yell, “Jorge!” The six-foot-four, muscled Muerto was in the grips of four suited vamps. They had him off his feet, his shaven head, showing off multiple tattoos, waggled, but he couldn’t break free. Tamar slashed at the suit of the one holding his right leg, a long cut from back of the neck down to the crotch. But Tamar knew she couldn’t follow them into the glare, instead seeing Jorge ignite and burn away.
But the one with the slashed suit also caught fire. He rolled on his back, trying to put out the flames. Jeremiah landed, the only one unaffected, and pulled at the rip. The suit went limp as the three others tried to grab Jeremiah, but he writhed and wriggled, as hard to catch in their hands as a slick catfish. Soon, he climbed again, trying to give them all enough room.
The next thing Sophia saw was Tamar on the back of a foe. She tugged on the helmet with her left hand while slashing with the right. The attacked one had no choice but to fall backwards and try to wrench out of Tamar’s grip. But Tamar kept her back rounded, her head never striking the floor. With one last cut, she removed the helmet then used the knife to behead the vamp held frozen between her locked legs.
Sophia, with space to move, kept her distance from the one in front of her. She saw Maisie and Horton doing the same thing. As long as those vamps were in the suits, they couldn’t attack with much damaging force. But if Jeremiah could knock out a few more lights, they could gain the biggest advantage: speed.
He did just that and the center aisle was now fully dark, with only enough ambient light up for sight without infravision. Sophia looked at her friends.
“Can you handle them? I’m going after Myra.”
Tamar, stepping in front of the VampAmp kids, nodded. “Go kick her ass.”
Sophia could see Myra didn’t want to fight. She pushed the suited vamp with the gun to confront Sophia while she ran to a door at the back. But Sophia’s anger had boiled over, giving her the momentum to vault over the lackey before he could get in position. Sophia moved so quickly that she couldn’t stop, crashing into Myra and crunching her against the door.
Both fell over from the impact, but Sophia made it to her feet first. She kicked out her booted foot, landing it squarely on Myra’s jaw. The younger vamp had to realign the bone as she sat to defend herself.
“I guess you thought I would be stupid enough to trust you again. What was stupid was believing you in the first plac
e.”
Myra worked her way up to her knees. “What did you think I was gonna do? You come here, to my home, then think you can run the joint? If Dad had any clue how strong you were, he would’ve killed The Caballero before you got here. All you’ve done is get in his way.”
“Timing is everything.” Sophia kicked her in the face again, knocking Myra prone. “I didn’t ask for any of this. I just wanted to do my thing. But vamps trust me because they know I’m not going to tell them what to do.”
“Jesus, you and yours are so short sighted.”
Sophia caught Myra’s eyes looking over her shoulder. In a quick turn, Sophia slashed out and up, opening the throat of the suited vamp. She kicked his feet out, driving him to the ground. Two more quick slashes and he was dust. Myra had gained her feet by the time Sophia was finished.
“You may think that.” Sophia wiped the ash from her hands. “But you’re crazy if you think vamps can rule the humans.”
“Why not?” The two circled, each looking for the right opening. “Humans had slavery before. They don’t have the willpower to resist a dominant force. And if we can walk during the day, at least for a few hours, we can reinforce that fear.”
“It doesn’t matter. You’ll never get the chance to test out your theory.” Sophia let her guard down for a second, not because she was tired but more because she wanted this rash youngling to strike. Myra didn’t hesitate.
Myra swung an uppercut with her right hand, trying to pin Sophia’s throat in one move. But as fast as Myra struck, Sophia still saw it in slow motion. Catching Myra’s wrist and elbow in her hands, she snapped the forearm. Frozen in pain, Myra could only groan until Sophia swept her legs and dropped her to the floor. She plunged onto Myra, pinning the younger one’s shoulders to the floor with her knees.
“You had no idea who you were dealing with. That’s fine. But I can’t let you go on anymore. But don’t worry. Daddy will be right behind you.” And in four quick strokes, Myra was gone forever.
Chapter Twenty-four
