by J. X. Evans
“Morning kid. Did you get any shuteye?”
“No… there is fresh hot coffee in the pot and breakfast in the oven.”
Rob poured a big cup of strong coffee to drown the white sugar crystals in and a little bit of milk to top it off “Hmm, don’t worry, everything will be okay.” He hoped to raise the kid’s spirit just a little bit.
“Oh you are a future-teller now? In that case, what are the lottery winning numbers? I’ll buy a missile and we’ll blast the bastards.”
‘Weak humor as a defensive mechanism? Things are not great, that I knew but… good enough I guess.’ Rob sipped coffee, let the hot cup on the table and moved to the oven where three big hot plate of breakfast awaited, he grabbed one and sat down to devour it. “Things must be pretty grim in your books if you took it upon yourself to make breakfast.”
“I was up, so why not? Don’t get used to it.”
“I did not plan on it… Nice eggs.” Rob said while drowning them in salt and pepper.
“Just eat them.” Mark spat and set to rolling another cig.
“I promise that I will try. Grab me three pieces of toast and the jam from the counter, please. Also toss the contents of the ashtray and smoke next to the window, it bothers me, especially in the morning or while I am eating, it ruins the flavor, which I think that maybe right now is a good thing actually!” Rob said between bites and slurps and Mark gave him a look, placed the death-stick carefully upon the ashtray which he moved away from Rob and brought him what he asked for.
Three or four minutes into breakfast there was the sound of slippers getting dragged on the carpet, a brief pose and then Perry appeared in the kitchen doorway.
“Morning, sleepyhead.” Mark teased.
Perry rubbed at his eyes, looking through the open door towards the dining room, “Where is my brother’s duster?” Perry replied turning his head round and round to look at the corners just in case the duster would be hiding somewhere.
Rob froze mid-sip and a small stream of diabetic-murderer coffee trickled down his thick beard and onto the last piece of yet uneaten fried egg, ‘Fuck my experience, fuck the Bitch and fuck her grand-daughter.’
The three Knights found themselves getting ready in bitter silence. They only had two dusters and three candidates to wear them, so Rob took it upon himself to go without one and ordered the other two who protested his decision to ‘Shut up’ because he was the commanding officer. And besides he had a shield to protect himself with, as well as his old standard Order issued body armor, a Kevlar vest reinforced with a thin plate armor on the inside that he had given to Thanos for safe keeping along with the bag of guns. There was a last plate of eggs that no one wanted to touch, so they put it in Duke’s doggy plate as they passed him by. The dog got up, wagged its short tail, sniffed the plate and whined.
28. INFILTRATION
It was cold, cold enough that even Rob felt a need to open the radiator in Orpheus’ car; since Zora and her refrigerator truck had decided to snatch and ran during the night they found themselves in need of borrowing Perry’s brothers’ family cruiser.
It was still dark and the freeway was nigh empty, nothing but a few trucks and even less cars traveling along with them and if things kept on like that, then they would reach their target still under the ‘cover’ of night.
There was a toll stand and Rob rolled the window down and passed the toll-collector a handful of coins. The onion-like dressed man and his layers upon layers of clothes took the coins and counted them with casual ease, as if his hands could sense the value of each coin based upon weight and shape after countess hours of dull repetition. But only after he managed to let go of the hot thermos cup that he was using to store his coffee, and slide open the almost all the way closed window. He put the coins in their place and lifted the bar to let them pass.
Some little while passed before Perry turned his head towards Rob to ask him, “What do you think is the worst job to do in the world?”
“Toll-collector! It’s up there for sure.” Mark answered, taking one of the earbuds out of his ear.
“Construction worker, ships, anything to do with sewers and garbage. Off the top of my head, give me a moment and I’ll find more.” Rob chimed in.
“I don’t have beef with hard labor, and you can listen to music or audiobooks to pass the time. In this little cube back there all you can do is sit your ass in a tiny, crumped space, be it minus 15 Celsius (freezing your balls) or 45 Celsius (sweating your balls), counting money, and handing receipts over and over again and you do that all day long. Give me a shovel and point the way.” Mark replied, gesturing with his thumb behind his back; probably to the toll-collector and not the grumpy truck driver behind them.
Perry turned his head to look at him, “Yeah well, you only say that because you are a Knight without back problems and long stamina, when it comes to exercise at least. I don’t think that is how any normal would feel about it.”
“Hey, worst, best, it’s all subjective. I just said what I would prefer. And besides, you are the one who brought the topic up, obviously after seeing the poor guy back there.” Mark gestured again and if the truck driver was paying more attention, then he might have started getting a bit self-conscious.
“I changed my mind.”
“Changed his mind.” Mark mumbled under his breath and shook his head.
They parked the car about a kilometer outside the main road, near the hill that Mark and Thanos had used yesterday. It was a good spot. A pair of good binoculars and a bit of patience and you could watch any movement on that side of the house without the residents ever taking note of your habit. Stalker’s hill it should be called. There were a couple of guards stationed at the gate, just like yesterday and they could see three more roaming around in the front yard; and that was about all the movement that went on.
“Nice house.” Rob said in a bleak manner.
“Indeed! Shame to tear it down.” Perry replied.
‘Let’s hope it will be the only thing we’ll have to feel bad about...Every time!’ Rob almost never had inhibitions about running into a battle. For himself that is. Ever since he had been put in charge of leading a squad he was always burdened by fear and anxiety for the safety of his subordinates. He might be treating Mark and Perry like equals in rank most of the time but in the end of the day he was in charge and this was his decision. He could not help but think ‘…Did I rush this…?’
“Well…it’s only a house. Let’s go around, if they only have five in the front then they will have no more than two in the back for sure. The plan remains the same.” Rob said and lifted his heavy shield from the ground. He felt uneasy, the big blonde vampire almost beat him the last time and he had to make a run for it. He was startled for sure, and not prepared enough for such an attack, but still he would prefer it if they did not have to fight again. ‘What if we have to though? And what if the others are of the same level…?’
They circled around and by the time they were watching the single guard at the backside of the estate leaning against the small toolshed and reading a magazine through the vines that tangled around and climbed up the medium height metal fence, the first sunbeam of the day had shone through the few clouds and was just now scattering its orange light at the distant molecules of our atmosphere, giving the sky a pinkish orange tint. Rob nodded at Mark and the lad easily jumped over the fence after taking a few running paces and landed right behind the unsuspecting guard. Mark put the palm of his right hand hard against the mouth of the startled man and yanked him backwards, lifting him off his feet and dragging him behind the toolshed. The guard tried to shout and started struggling to get free but Mark applied a constant slight pressure at his trachea until the guard subsided. A moment later there were two low thuds, one evidently a bit heavier than the other, and the remaining two Knights appeared in front of the guard. Rob looked around and carefully moved to check inside the shack while Perry brought an index fingers to his lips to sign to the man to stay qui
et; the man nodded slightly, though his eyes were angry and his brow furrowed, an understandable reaction since he was jumped and roughly manhandled while probably already craving a bed to lie upon.
There was the sound of leather gloved knuckles on wood, a sign from Rob, and Mark heaved the man up with one hand under his armpit and guided him towards the shack, sparing only a glance or two at the almost completely naked body of the lady posing in the page of the porn magazine that the guard had been so attentively studying…it certainly was a clever trick to jack up his temperature. Since his heavy coat and wool blouse were apparently not enough to keep the teeth of the cold air out of his skin, he had needed something exciting to get his heart rate up and improve his circulation, resulting to an increase in body temperature.
The shack turned out to actually be a dark, musty toolshed, filled with shovels and hoes and other gardening equipment, as well as a table and cupboards filled with snacks and coffee, presumably for the guards. Mark half carried and half dragged the guard and sat him upon a wooden chair.
Rob walked over in front of the prisoner. He squatted in front of him and looked him menacingly in the eye for a few moments without speaking, no blinking, doing nothing but breathing. Mark thought the guard would have been less intimidated if it had been a hungry bear standing in front of him instead of Rob. The burly man opened his mouth and the words flowed through him, calmly but with a promise, “Okay, I am going to ask you a few questions and I need to you to answer truthfully and to the best of our ability. I do not have much time and you would not like it to waste it.” The guard nodded. “Alright then. Where do they keep the children?”
Mark took his hand off the guard’s mouth and the guard spat blood. His lips were split, probably from a cooperation of cold dry air and Mark’s rough manhandling of him.
“They who?” asked the guard in a sore, heavy voice, probably another short lived souvenir of Mark’s slightly unprofessional treatment of him. The kid had been anxious from last evening and sleepless, his eyes were itching. He had not meant to lose control of his strength and actually hurt the guy. He was still human after all… he certainly made some bad choices… maybe, but it did not change the fact. He probably did not even really know what he was being part of. That’s what he wanted to believe at least, but he had a hunch that for some people it would not be such a pure, crystal clear decision. Still, the Knights were meant to shield humanity from not only the claws of the supernatural, but from themselves even. Mark made it clear to himself that he should calm down and focus. He would be no good in a fight if his movements were without timing and his aim out of focus. He exhaled and felt his temperament shifting towards more familiar shores.
Rob’s expression did not change at all upon hearing the guard’s answer but he dealt a slap to the man’s cheek. Not a fast blow, and without any extra weight behind it other than that of his actual hand. He held back even. But Rob’s hands are more like grilling pans rather than anything else and the guard’s head got swept along with his palm for a short, bumpy ride. Mark got caught by surprise, he was feeling bad about splitting the guy’s lips a bit? Either he was getting soft as a marshmallow, or Rob went too hard too fast. He thought that he actually heard the guy’s brain being slammed against his thick skull at a point. He knew the feeling too, since he had received more than a fair number of heavy blows during training sessions. He found himself sympathizing with the unfortunate guard.
“Where?” Rob asked again, calm as ever.
The guard took a second or two to gather his wits about him and spit more blood to the ground. A line of bloody drool got left hanging from the middle of his lower lip. “Don’t kill me.”
“We won’t kill you. We will tie you up in here and when all is over we will hand you over to the police.”
A second passed, and then the guard spoke. “Somewhere in the mansion, on the second floor, up the stairs and to the left. I don’t know how many there are or where exactly.”
Rob shared a brief glance with Perry and then brought his palm up again and slowly made a fist in front of the guard’s face, his knuckles cracking menacingly one by one as they closed tight.
“I swear to Jesus Christ and Mary the virgin, to my family and my life.” The guard uttered in a gasp, whimpering and wincing all the while.
“Anything more…useful?” Rob asked and lightly grabbed the guard’s chin and raised his glassy eyes to his own hard ones.
“I do, I do, there is a butler, a human, he will know, he takes care of everything in there. Second floor, first room to the left, the big room in the servant’s quarters.”
Mark and Perry shared a look and Mark could not contain a momentary snicker… ‘Of course they have a butler.’
Rob nodded, “Where are the vampires?”
“I don’t know, I really don’t, they left and someone came back I think but I don’t know if all three of them are here.”
Mark felt a weight lifting off his shoulders. There was a chance that there were less of them here! Their chances had just gotten better. That meant that they would need to hunt down the remaining ones and probably never catch them, but it made their task today easier and their success all but certain.
“You are doing well, really well, I appreciate it. What about the thralls?”
“What?” the man answered and Rob’s expression turned fierce once again in an instant and the guard whimpered “I really don’t-”
“The monsters, they look like dead people walking and growling.” Perry jumped in.
“The zombies, I know them, you should have just said that. Dining room, you enter through the main door and you go straight, there is a door to the left of the stairs.”
“One last thing and we leave you alone. Is there any chance of an unlocked back door that no one uses? For the staff maybe?”
The guard pointed slowly, “There is a small door right around the corner there. It is open.”
“Hmm, I think this is about right. Thanks for you cooperation.”
“And now, a gift for your efforts” Perry said and grabbed a measure of tough rope and used it to tie the guard’s legs and hands together to a wooden pillar while Mark gathered some less than clean clothes, which is the best he could do under the circumstances, and turned them into a bundle which he proceeded to stuff inside the guard’s mouth.
“Sit tight now and don’t be making sounds.” Mark lifted the palm of his left hand up to make his point clear in gesture as well as vocally. His golden chain slipped free of his sleeve and a pale red light, so faint that it would barely be perceived in a normally light room, radiated from the cracks in the small ruby and cast an almost artistic pattern on the dark, shadow riddled floor of the room. Rob gently grabbed Mark’s wrist and examined the cracked gem. “When did this happen?”
“When I was attacked. I misjudged the energy I put into it and lost my concentration. It cracked and you know, flames came out of it and such. I did not understand it right away either, I thought it was the excess heat from the strike, nearly got my hand burned.”
Rob scowled, “I see… perfect! Try not to use it today. It could be dangerous. Well, it’s not like you could use it much against them either way. We should get it replaced afterwards.”
Rob turned to gather his shield and walk out of the small, dark shack and Perry followed him, making the gesture for an explosion with his hands and whispering a ‘boom’ sound as he passed by Mark’s ear. Mark looked down at his ruby with an eyebrow raised…he knew that, he had sixteen years of training. This was basics! He certainly had not forgotten something as vital and simple as that! He followed the other two and shut the door behind him.
They started moving towards the door the guard had informed them of, Rob leading with his shield raised and Mark on point with the guard’s assault rifle at the ready, a pump action shotgun strapped across his back, a simple handgun strapped to his thigh, a large knife in his belt, his brass knuckles in a pocket, and of course, his favorite monster-hunting pistol o
n his hip. All good and dandy, but if it came down to a melee, which it would most definitely do since it was damn hard to hit a moving vampire with bullets, even if they came from an automatic weapon, he would need to use his fists. He liked fist-fighting, damn he was good at it, but it was a matter of reach, and from what he had heard these guys were using great-swords and axes; and it is damn hard to fight against a physically stronger opponent that also had reach on you…
They found the wooden door easily enough. No guard was spotted around and Rob turned to take a look at Perry who nodded back at him and moved to stand right in front of the closed door, a nine millimeter handgun with a silencer pointing at it. Rob raised his shield and reached his free hand to turn the door’s handle. The door opened without complaints and Rob pushed it open, coolly and steadily.
The door revealed a dark room and just as the door was creaking open, the screen of a phone turned on, a measure of white light illuminating the place. The phone started vibrating and the song ‘Living on a prayer’ blasted through the silence of the morning, overpowering both the low sounds from the woods behind the estate and the distant sounds of the freeway on the opposite side of it. A man got out of the closest to the phone bed and sleepily walked to the table where the buzzing device was partying solo, to turn the alarm clock off.
‘Damn, it is the bodyguards’ bedroom. And it looks as if it is time for a guard shift.’ Rob thought and darted forward to hit the sleepy man that had just turned the alarm clock off to the back of his head with a backhanded swing that sent him sprawling unconscious to the ground before he had even been able to notice them. There were about six bunk beds in total and four people other than the one that Rob had taken out. Mark and Perry moved in behind him, fast and silent, and followed Rob’s example in punching the remaining men unconscious before most of them had even opened their eyes.
