by Leo Romero
He scanned the floor while he thought about it. He looked up, his eyes locking onto a hieroglyph of Horus, walking like an Egyptian. They guy was dancing, like he was listening to music. A spark went off in Rufus’ mind. Music. Those guards looked bored, why not hit them with a few tunes. He fished his smartphone from his pocket and began flicking. He found the track he was looking for, pumped up the volume and pressed play. Highway to Hell by AC/DC began blasting out of the smartphone speakers, bouncing against the ancient stone walls around him and off hieroglyphs of Ra and Horus while they were doing their dancing poses. The cat’s ears pricked. The guards spun toward the noise. Rufus ducked away. They were on their way. He scuttled down the stairs, leaving the smartphone on the lowest step before diving into the nearest opening and waiting it out. He pressed himself up against the inside wall, his eyes fixed on a stone sarcophagus, and listened intently, AC/DC banging against his head.
A few seconds passed and he ventured to edge his head around the corner. His eyes widened. One of the guards was standing halfway up the steps. He was looking at his buddy, who was bending down to pick up Rufus’ smartphone. He gave it a puzzled stare, before looking up at the other guy and shrugging.
Now!
The other guy’s eyes had time to narrow before Rufus dived out into the corridor, catching them both by surprise. The guy with the phone had his back turned, so Rufus used the extra second he had to target the other guy. He stuck out his dart gun with a strong, confident hand and shot a couple of tranqs off. By the time the guard raised his assault rifle, the darts had already hit him in the chest. His legs turned to jelly and he was tumbling down the steps before his finger got near the trigger.
The other guy whirled around, a machete in one hand, Rufus’ smartphone in the other. Rufus didn’t hesitate. He pulsed the trigger of his dart gun. The guard knew the game was up even before the tranqs got him in the stomach and upper arm. He staggered back, smashing into a depiction of dancing Horus, while AC/DC still played out. He collapsed to the ground, out of the action, out of the game. Rufus plucked his smartphone from his unconscious grip.
Thanks, dude!
He banged his head in time with the beat for a couple of seconds before killing the music. Everything muted again. He hoped the music hadn’t alerted the vampires. He left the sleeping guards behind and listened in. Raised voices became audible. They were still bickering. They hadn’t heard anything. Rufus gave himself a positive nod and got going up the steps.
Now he was faced with the cats.
He slowed to pigeon steps. They turned his way. A shiver danced up Rufus’ spine. These weren’t normal cats, there was something eerie about them. It was like they’d been programmed to do something, to be alerted when someone who was anti-vamp came along. Rufus got the sensation that they sensed his desires, knew what he was there for. One of them hissed, its tail shooting up toward the ceiling. Rufus flinched. He didn’t like that. A couple of them skated across the sandstone behind him. They’d surrounded him. He stopped. He gazed left and right. Cats now circled him. Some of them were stretched out along the floor, others were on their haunches, eyeing him with cold, marble eyes.
Good kitty, good kitty, Rufus wanted to say to them.
He wished he had a saucer of milk. He’d heard cats liked music. He wondered if these ones liked AC/DC.
A cackle resonated from the opening up ahead. Rufus knew he only had so much time before the vampires realized the guards were gone. Then they’d come out and find him in the corridor.
Rufus was spurred back into life. With his eyes fixed on the cats around him, he tiptoed along the corridor. He reached a black one stretched out along the floor ahead of him. He took a big step over him. Behind him, a couple of others followed, matching his steps. A cat to his right stretched out its claws, its gaze glued to Rufus.
Rufus gulped. Nice kitty.
The cat retraced its claws again. Rufus breathed a sigh of relief. Another cat came trotting up next to him, making him recoil. His sudden movement scared it. It hissed hard, its long fangs coming on show. Rufus’ blood ran cold. As he delved deeper into that spooky, dim-lit corridor, he was further surrounded by more cats as his presence alerted them. They moved around him, giving him space, but kept their gaze on him. Rufus could sense them all around. He knew that if they attacked as a pack, they could tear him to ribbons. There were too many of them. That would also alert the vampires to his presence, which would be bad.
He took slow movements through that corridor, his mouth drying out, sweat dripping down his body. He could sense danger; he knew one abrupt movement would agitate them.
One step at a time, Rufus, one step at a time.
Pressure built up in his mind. He was too far in the corridor to make a dash for it. If the cats attacked, they had him right where they wanted him. He met the gaze of one; it hissed. Rufus licked his dry lips and continued, his heart thudding hard. A cat dashed past him and he leaped to the side, almost landing on another cat. It yelped and scrammed.
Rufus took a moment to steady himself. Take it easy! They’re just cats.
Another one hissed at him and he gulped. Yeah, just cats.
He moved further toward that opening, the cats moving alongside him, sweating him, not giving him a moment’s respite. The voices coming from the opening grew louder. Rufus was almost there. He took a few more slow and steady steps, the tension inside him causing him to be as taut as piano wire. He so badly just wanted to run into that opening and get away from these cats. They were unpredictable and that’s what made them scary. He kept his cool as best he could, keeping that pace steady. A little more and he’d be there.
A cat to his left scuttled across his feet and he almost lost it completely. The cat ran off in shock. Rufus rocked, his arms flailing like windmills. He swam on the air, desperate to keep his balance. He staggered to the side, almost treading on another cat. He threw out a hand, using the wall to steady himself. His heart fluttered, panic corrupted his mind.
Hold on, hold on!
Cats darted left and right as his mind whirled. It was like they were trying to trip him over on purpose. Rufus pushed a hand against the wall, propelling himself back into the center of the corridor where he regained his balance.
The cats seemed to calm, some of them coming to a stop next to him and staring up once more, their eyes bulging. Rufus took a steadying breath and carried on, one step at a time. The cats just watched him as he passed by.
Good kitty, good kitty, he kept saying in his mind as his heart thudded and sweat poured. He finally made it to that opening in one piece. He pressed himself up against the wall and peeked around the corner.
They were in there. The vampires. Even from where he was, their fangs were visible every time they spoke. There was a girl vampire sitting on a throne, a cat in her lap, more cats by her feet. Three boy vampires were dotted around the chamber. One was lounging in another throne, a bored expression on his face; he looked like he was about to fall asleep. Another was leaned up against the wall, his back to Rufus, his smartphone in his hand. At the back of the room was a fatter one. By his feet was a pile of things. Rufus focused in on them. His face pinched. They were severed body parts: arms, heads, pieces of leg. Nausea rose in his stomach at the garish red stumps and white bone.
These things are animals! No wonder Papa and Vincent hunt them!
The fat vampire picked up an arm like it was a piece of chicken breast and in a total casual manner dropped it down a hole in the ground.
Rufus winced. What were they doing?
He looked away. A cat was by his feet; it stared up at him with glowing eyes, its tail sweeping the floor in harsh arcs.
“So, how much longer are we going to wait, Ram?”
The voice captured Rufus’ attention. It was the female vamp. She sounded agitated. She was stroking the cat on her lap so hard, its eyelids pulled upward, revealing whites.
The vampire with the smartphone answered her. “As long as it takes.”
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“I’m getting bored!” the boy lounging in the other throne stated.
“We all are, Karim,” the girl vampire said.
The fat one threw a foot down the hole and dusted his hands. “What if he doesn’t send anyone?” he asked the vampire guy with the phone, Ram.
“Exactly, Seth,” the bored guy in the throne answered him. “I knew he was lying.”
“We all did,” the girl vamp said with a roll of her eyes.
Ram lifted up his other hand. Clutched in it was a black lump, like a big black gem. “Tell us what to do, Granddaddy,” Ram said to it before holding it up to his ear and listening intently.
Rufus gasped. The Heart! That’s the thing Vincent wants me to get!
“Ugh, you’re always messing around with that thing, Ram!” the female vampire said, stroking the cat in her lap. “We don’t need Granddaddy to tell us what to do. Clement didn’t send anyone to hand over the relics. He lied to us. And his time is up. So, his daughter and his apprentice have to die.”
Rufus’ eyes widened. They were talking about Trixie and Dom.
Ram sighed, that thing still up by his ear. “Yes, Granddaddy. The Slayer doesn’t care about them. We were fools to think he would.”
“You were the fool,” Karim said, his voice laced with boredom. “It was your idea to use them as bait.”
Ram shrugged. “I thought he might have got sentimental in his old age.”
“The old bastard will never be sentimental about anyone!” the female vamp sneered.
“Very true, Annit,” Karim said.
Are they talking about Vincent? Rufus asked himself. It’s not true what they’re saying. Vincent cares about us all.
“Maybe we should give him more time,” suggested Ram.
“His time is up!” said Annit. “Kill them! We still have our piece of the puzzle. There’ll be other opportunities to get what Clement has.”
Rufus’ face pinched. Why do they keep calling Vincent Clement? Who the hell is Clement?
Before he had a chance to answer, Ram lowered the thing in his hand and raised his smartphone up to his other ear. He started speaking into it in Arabic.
Connections were formed in Rufus’ mind in an instant. Even though he didn’t understand what Ram was saying, in his mind’s eye, he saw the leader of the bad guys down there by the pyramid on the other end of the line, getting his orders. Orders to kill. Orders to kill Trixie and Dom!
I’ve got to stop them!
A kick of adrenaline jump-started him. He whipped his holy water dart gun from his belt and stormed into the chamber with only one thought in his mind. He marched straight up to Ram. The other vampires in the room were startled by his entrance. Karim sat up in his throne, Annit jumped out of hers, the cat on her lap becoming airborne.
Seth spun from the pile of limbs to face Rufus, an arm in his grip. “What—” he began.
Ram responded to the sudden change in atmosphere. He spun his head around to meet Rufus, who raised the business end of his dart gun and aimed it right at Ram’s chest, a snarl on his face. He went to pull the trigger.
I’m gonna kill—
Rufus foolishly locked eyes with the vampire and his body turned to lead. Ice ran through his veins at lightning speed as if he’d just stepped into a turbo-charged freezer. Ram’s eyes were voids, clusters of stars glimmering and twinkling deep within. They swirled and whirled like an insane fairground ride. Rufus’ jaw went slack. He was dragged into the vortex as if those eyes were magnets and his body was made of metal. Something at the back of his mind was yelling at him to shoot, but his body wouldn’t respond. He was stuck, glued to the spot. He gazed into those whirling eyes, transfixed, rooted, control of his body lost.
Beyond the fugue, the other vampires stormed over. Ram held his hands out to the sides, indicating for everyone to stop. He had things under control. The others calmed. They gathered around their brother, snarls of hatred etched into their faces.
A twitchy grin spread across Ram’s face.
What’s... going on? Rufus asked himself as those eyes manipulated him.
He’s icing you, Rufus, a voice whispered in his mind. Just like Vincent said they would. He said you had to...
Wear the lenses.
And then it hit him.
The lenses! He forgot to put them in before they were destroyed alongside the duffle bag in the chopper crash.
Oh no...
A wave of dread smothered Rufus. He was surrounded and rooted, iced, caught in the trap of a vampire. He stood there like a statue, the dart gun ready and aimed. All he had to do was pull the trigger, but he couldn’t move a muscle. Those evil faces all leered down at him, they had him right where they wanted him. Fear wormed its way into his veins. He knew what was coming, but was helpless against it. He tried pushing back with everything he had, but it was useless. He was locked in place. Something else was at the controls, something dark and ecstatic, something that wanted to harm him. It violated his mind, climbed into it and made itself at home.
It spoke to him.
Lower the gun, Ram’s soothing voice whispered in his mind. Lower the gun, there’s a good little boy.
And Rufus did. Even though he didn’t want to, he obeyed his new master. His arm moved downward of its own accord as if it was attached by strings to a puppet master. As the dart gun lowered, his wide-eyed gaze was fixed on those obsidian eyes the whole time, unable to... break the connection.
Now the dart gun was out of harm’s way, the other vamps began to grin.
Now, turn it on yourself, Ram ordered.
In his mind, Rufus groaned under the pressure as his trembling hand lifted of its own accord up to his own head. He watched on in agony as the dart gun came into his view. And there was nothing he could do.
Fight, Rufus, fight!
He strained every sinew to stop the inevitable. But it was impossible. His own arm didn’t belong to him any longer. It belonged to Ram. And Ram was telling him to turn the dart gun on himself.
Rufus flipped the muzzle his way. And now he was staring into another black hole. The black hole at the end of the dart gun barrel. Ram forced him to lift it up higher, until it was an inch from Rufus’ own eye. A dart through the eye was coming, bringing with it pain and suffering, and possibly death. He’d be weakened and then Ram and his siblings could do as they pleased with him; kill him, torture him, toy with him a bit first. He was all theirs.
As Rufus stared into that bottomless hole, terror blazed through him. In a final fit of desperation, he pushed and pushed, but couldn’t break the spell. He was numbed stone.
Ram remained calm. Now, shoot!
Rufus’ trembling trigger finger betrayed him. It began to pulse. The trigger tightened under the pressure.
SHOOT!
Rufus’ tongue popped from his mouth. From nowhere, images tumbled down in his mind. He saw Papa and Vincent and Trixie and Dom all lined up in front of these beasts just like he was now. He watched in agony as the beasts sunk their fangs into each of their necks all at the same time, bleeding them dry, their lifeless bodies flopping to the ground, their dead eyes gazing back up at him. An overwhelming sadness bombed into his heart.
Papa, Vincent, Trixie, Dom. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.
Their dead eyes continued to gaze at him. Lost, helpless.
Shoot! Ram demanded.
That trembling finger curled in some more. Any second and...
In his mind, Trixie’s dead green eyes abruptly flared with life. She focused in on Rufus. Don’t let us die, Roo!
The words were like a sledgehammer to the head. Anger swelled in his chest.
Don’t let us die, Rufus! Vincent said.
Rufus’ frozen legs began to melt like icicles in the desert.
Save us, buddy! Dom shouted.
Rufus’ iced arms trembled into life like a jump-started engine. Beyond them, Ram’s eyes widened in concern.
And finally, the image of Papa. He focused in on his son. You’ve
got to save Vincent! he snapped. The words exploded in Rufus’ mind like firecrackers. The twinkling stars embedded within Ram’s onyx eyes shimmered and faded before blinking out. Rufus clamped his teeth together and pushed back against the infection in his mind, the love for his people driving him. His love for the fallen, for the weak, was what made him strong. He’d rather die than let evil push him over the edge.
I won’t let them down!
Every muscle in his body tensed. The dart gun shook in his convulsing hand. His jaw ached, his head trembled. He concentrated on the dart gun with all his might.
Turn it around. Turn it around! he shouted at himself. You turn it around right now, Rufus!
Like a rusty gate that had just been oiled, the dart gun edged back the way it came.
Ram’s jaw dropped in shock. Shoot yourself! he shouted back in Rufus’ mind. I command you to shoot yourself!
Go to hell! Rufus shouted back.
He pushed harder and the dart gun whipped all the way around.
Now it was pointing right at Ram’s chest. Now Rufus was back in control of himself, the hypnosis finally wearing off. He shook off the stars and focused in on the vampires.
Ram’s eyes widened in terror, his grin melted into a grimace. “He’s holy!” he exclaimed, his voice laced with horror. “Kill him!”
Rufus went to pull the trigger. From nowhere, a cat leaped up and anchored itself on his forearm. White-hot pain seared up Rufus’ arm as the cat’s claws dug into flesh. His grip on the dart gun loosened and it fell to the ground. Ram kicked it away out of reach.
Rufus spun away, that cat still clinging to his arm, its back legs kicking up in frantic bursts. It opened up its mouth to take a bite. Rufus reacted on instinct. He swung his arm around behind him. The cat’s back smashed into the hieroglyph-smothered wall. The impact caused it to retract its claws and drop away. It landed on its feet and scurried away in terror. Rufus caught his breath. As the pain in his hand dulled to a light throb, he turned his attention back to the vampires. They were backing off.
