The Wicked Dead (The Tome of Bill Book 7)

by Rick Gualtieri

  “GET YOUR ASS IN HERE, BILL!!”

  Sally’s compulsion rang throughout the house, easily reaching the far confines of the basement. It was better than a PA system, although far less pleasant. Judging by the way Tom was rubbing his ears, he concurred.

  “What the hell was that?” he asked.

  “I don’t know. We should...” Oh fuck it. “Stay here. I’ll see what’s going on.”

  “No problem-o. I need to find a box for all this shit anyway.”

  * * *

  I left Tom where he was and raced back upstairs. Heck, it’s not like I could have dragged him with me had I tried. His find was truly awesome – and I didn’t mean from a monetary perspective either. It meant that he would be protected from vampires like me. That in itself gave me some small comfort as I finally stepped onto the main floor, having made at least one wrong turn in the cavernous basement.

  I found the rest of the group in the living room, standing in front of a picture window and looking out toward what would have normally been a well-manicured front yard, but was now a forest primeval.

  “Jesus Christ, Sally. Lay low with the compulsions. Otherwise, every Bigfoot within a mile is going to find us.”

  She stopped me with a glare. “It’s too late. They already have.”

  Shit Storm

  “I don’t see anything.”

  “That’s kind of the point with them,” Christy said. “You won’t see them until they want you to.”

  “Well, that’s useful,” Dave groused.

  “They’re near,” she continued.

  “Yeah,” Sally added. “It’s little things – a crunch of leaves, a tree branch swaying the wrong way.”

  “How many?”

  “Who the fuck knows?”

  “This is bullshit,” Mike said. “Everyone knows vampires beat out dire apes. We should just go out there and kick their asses.”

  I turned toward him, somehow repressing the urge to smack the piss out of his stupid self. “This is one case where the Monster Manual got its stats dead wrong. They’re not just apes, they’re spirits.”

  “Ghosts?”

  “Not quite ... unless you want to go with ghosts strong enough to rip off your head and shit down your throat. Oh, and believe me, if that latter happens, you’re gonna wish for the former.”

  “So what do we do?” Adam asked. His tone, however, suggested he didn’t feel all that worried. I really needed to remind these guys that there were different tiers of super powers. The Green Goblin might seem tough to Spider-man, but against a guy like Thor, there wasn’t going to be much of a fight.

  “Lock and load,” Ed replied. He already had his shotgun in hand. “We know that bullets can kill these things.”

  “A lot of bullets,” I corrected.

  “Dead is still dead.”

  “Yeah, if there’s one or two of them. If there’s a hundred...”

  “Too risky,” Sally said. “Christy, can you get us out of here?”

  “Already on it.” She’d placed Decker back in his bag – thank God – and was busy drawing a circle on the floor in chalk. “Guess we should have aimed for Medford after all.”

  “How long do you need?” Ed asked.

  “If it were just a couple of us, we’d be gone already. But I need a few minutes to set up a sending circle for a group this size.”

  Sally grabbed her Desert Eagle from the big duffel bag o’doom. “We’ll give you what we can, With any luck, they don’t even know we’re in here yet.”

  Sadly for us, luck was on our side – bad luck, that is. Sally had barely closed her mouth when there came a crash from the back of the house – loud enough so that I had little doubt a wall had just been caved in.

  “I really hope you’ve got some more weapons in that bag of holding,” Mike said nervously.

  “Way ahead of you.” She’d already started pulling more guns out, checking to make sure the safeties were off for the inept among us and passing them around. We quickly formed a crude defensive line around Christy’s chalk circle. The plan was simple enough that it didn’t need to be spoken – we keep the ugly fuckers off of us long enough to poof out of Dodge.

  All at once, the ripe scent of woodland ass reached my nostrils. Ugh. Did these things have no fucking concept of bathing?

  Sadly, such musings would need to wait, for I spied a monstrous shape step into the hall leading to the living room. It was large, hairy, and took up the entire space.

  “Holy fuck, they’re real,” Adam gasped.

  “No shit.”

  “If there’s any chance of getting any samples, let’s...” Dave began.

  “Do a fucking autopsy on its corpse when we’re done,” I snapped. “For now, concentrate on making it into one.”

  More sounds of walls being broken through were heard as the creature we’d spotted moved in our direction. It wasn’t alone. Just fucking great.

  “How’s it going, Christy?”

  “I just need a few more...” Her voice trailed off. Not a good sign.

  “What? What’s wrong?”

  “Tom!” she cried. “Where’s Tom?”

  Fuck! I’d completely forgotten I’d left him downstairs in his own personal Toys R Us wet dream. The dumb shit was probably so enamored of his ill-gotten goods that he didn’t have a clue as to what was going on just above his head.

  “What are you doing?” Sally snapped.

  I turned and found Christy stepping out of the circle. She tried to push past me, but I risked a fireball to the face by grabbing hold of her arm. “No!”

  “Let me go. I need to find him.”

  “You need to finish the spell. I know where he is. I’ll go get...”

  Alas, fate decided that wasn’t gonna happen. At that moment, the Bigfoot we’d spied in the hall burst into the living room. Its massive form shattered the doorframe around it as if it were made of candy glass.

  “What the fuck?” Mike cried at the sight of it full-on.

  He’d probably been expecting Harry and the Hendersons. I’d forgotten to mention that these things had a four-armed, armored, and scary as fuck battle mode.

  Regardless, terrifying though it might be, it still lived by the cardinal rule of Arnold Schwarzenegger movies – if it bled, we could kill it. The creature snarled, ropes of drool hanging from its ugly mouth. Too bad for it, at least half our group had our wits about us. Sally, Ed, and I raised our weapons and prepared to bring the pain.

  The pain came all right, but it was on us. Two more of the beasts came crashing through the walls – one near its friend, another through the front, flanking us.

  Before we could compensate, two of them raised their fists and smashed them into the plaster above their heads. The high ceiling, no doubt already strained by the damage the beasts had caused, shattered from the impact and came raining down upon us.

  * * *

  Thank goodness for vampire reflexes. I threw myself onto Christy, shielding her from the worst of it. The debris that fell upon us wasn’t exactly pleasant, but at least nothing large – like a full bedroom set – came crashing down from the floor above onto our heads.

  “Are you o ... shit!”

  A massive paw grabbed me from above, lifted me up, and threw me. I went flying through the picture window, smashed into a tree, and landed dazed on the comparatively soft lawn.

  Multiple roars of rage sounded from back inside the house. There came a single gunshot – loud enough to be nearly deafening to my sensitive ears. A high-pitched scream, definitely inhuman, followed, and then came the sound of more stuff breaking.

  “Kill the T’lunta!” one of the monsters cried.

  I tried to stand, only for a massive foot to stomp down on my back and pin me to the ground, half crushing me in the process.

  “No!” the beast who stood atop me ordered, loud enough that I’m sure his buddies in the house heard. “We take prisoners.”

&nb
sp; Okay, that was definitely better than killing us indiscriminately. The beauty of being a prisoner was that it offered the hope of escape.

  Sadly, the creature wasn’t finished, as what he added next was enough to make me wish they’d gone with their original plan.

  “We take T’lunta to leader. We take them to Turd.”

  A Turd in the Hand...

  Of all the Sasquatches to be brought before, not that I knew a lot of them by name, Turd was the last on my wish list.

  It was bad enough that he was larger, scarier, and a metric fuck-ton meaner than the others I’d met. What made it worse was that I’d embarrassed the ever-living shit out of him not too long ago. Turd wasn’t the brightest bulb, but I had a feeling it was too much to ask that he didn’t remember my face.

  The raiding party turned out to be seven Sasquatches strong. That would have been a daunting number even had we a defensible position and been armed with rocket launchers. Seeing my friends dragged out of the house, disarmed and defeated, I knew that our chances of escape were rapidly moving out of the slim area code and to the town of none.

  Sally was the worst of the lot. Her right arm was bent at several unnatural angles, and one side of her face looked like it had gone ten rounds with a meat tenderizer. They threw her to the ground at my feet, where I tried to help her up as gently as I could.

  Adam and Mike were bruised up, but otherwise seemed intact. Well, that was until Adam tried asking one of the brutes something and got a fist to the face as an answer. Yeah, I probably should have mentioned that these things really didn’t like vampires. Oh well, guess that at least answered any stupid questions they might have had.

  Dave, obviously the smartest of that bunch, walked out with his hands held high in surrender and his mouth zipped shut. So much for his master vampire bullshit, but at least he seemed to grasp that now was not a good time to do anything other than what we were told.

  Ed and Christy brought up the rear. I was happy to see both were unharmed outside of a few scratches. The Feet seemed to be treating Christy in particular about as well as could be expected. I wasn’t sure if she’d be able to pull off some diplomatic immunity, but her status as a Magi seemed to give her a bit more leeway than the rest of us.

  There was no sign of Tom. Though my mind insisted on a few worst case scenarios, I held on to the hope that he was still safe and sound in the vast basement – probably too far in for the Sasquatches to notice, especially when they had us in their sights. Now to only hope the fool stayed put and out of trouble. With any luck, he’d be okay.

  “What this one?” one of the Feet asked, towering over Ed and sniffing him. “Smell funny.”

  “You’re one to talk,” my roommate replied, risking a pummeling.

  Thankfully, none came, but another of the creatures – the one who’d shit-stomped me a few moments earlier – stepped in and likewise gave Ed a good long smell.

  “Not know ... strange.”

  It turned to us, then pointed a finger between me and Christy. “Your cub?”

  Our what?!

  I glanced at Christy, and she shrugged.

  “T’lunta asked question,” the creature growled, raising a menacing fist. “T’lunta answer question or T’lunta be crushed.”

  That didn’t sound particularly pleasant. At the same time, I had no fucking idea what the correct answer was. Somehow, I had a feeling explaining to them that I had no clue what Ed was wouldn’t be particularly helpful for us. For all I knew, their way of finding out would be to eat him.

  “Yes. He’s our darling ... cub.”

  Even injured as she was, Sally snorted a brief chuckle of laughter from my side. Bitch!

  Ed’s eyes narrowed at me. “Are you out of your goddamned mind?”

  The Sasquatch ignored my roommate’s outburst. It pointed one large finger at my face, the nail on it encrusted with some sort of sludge that I silently prayed was just mud. “Cub ours now. We keep safe as long as T’lunta no try anything.”

  Though a part of me wanted to comment as to the lack of anything even remotely resembling intelligence on the part of our captors, I didn’t dare look a gift horse in the mouth. So long as I acted my part, Ed would be safe. For the time being, that seemed a pretty good offer compared to everything else going on lately. “It’s a deal. Keep my cub safe and I won’t try anything.”

  “Wonderful,” Ed commented disgustedly.

  “Oh, relax, junior,” I replied. “Maybe you’ll get lucky and one of them will volunteer to wet nurse you.”

  * * *

  The beasts marched us through the woods, away from the house we’d mistakenly taken shelter in. Within a few minutes, Sally’s healing factor had kicked in and she was soon able to walk unaided. Thankfully, aside from their initial assault, the worst we were subjected to were more threats. Nobody in the group seemed to want to test them on that, though.

  Even Christy, who I was afraid might try to blast her way out so as to search for Tom, kept herself in check. Hopefully, she’d reached the same conclusion as me. The Sasquatches were focused on their enemies – vampires. So long as Tom kept out of sight, they probably had no interest in a lone human. Not sure how that would help him in the long run, especially since there was no way of knowing how vast this unnatural forest was, but I’d settle for baby steps.

  As stealthy as the beasts had been on their approach toward us, their ambush complete, they made no attempt to cover their tracks as they marched us through the woods. We left a trail wide enough for ... well, someone like me to follow. That was good. If an opportunity presented itself, we’d have a shot at being able to find our way back.

  It soon became apparent why. We probably hadn’t gone a half mile before the stench hit my nostrils – Sasquatches ahead, a shitload of them. Though the area around us remained overgrown, I began to see massive crude huts in between the trees, strewn about in haphazard formation. I couldn’t see any other life, but I got the distinct impression there were eyes watching us – a lot of them.

  Almost as if to prove that was indeed the case, the lead squatch stopped mid-stride – nearly causing me to walk face-first into his dingleberry-laden ass. He lifted his head and let out a screech.

  The cries of dozens of beings answered in response. As freaky as that was, it was nothing compared to a deafening roar that came from somewhere up ahead. Talk about making one want to shit their pants.

  Apparently, I wasn’t alone either. I glanced around and saw my gaming buddies – their eyes wide. They finally understood this was no game.

  As the hoots and hollers subsided, shapes stepped out from behind the trees – some with two arms, others with four, but all of them massive in form. There were a lot of them, far more than just a raiding party.

  Holy shit. We’d practically teleported ourselves right onto the front stoop of what was apparently a major offensive. Medford was sounding better and better all the time.

  We resumed our forward march, passing by several Feet, all of whom looked like they wanted nothing better than to smash our heads with a rock. I found myself hoping that the supernatural world had the equivalent of a Geneva Convention. Otherwise, things were gonna get mighty unpleasant for us in the short term.

  We were soon marched into a clearing maybe fifty feet across and roughly circular in shape. Sasquatches lined the perimeter, a living wall of muscle. Even the smallest could have played center guard for the NBA. We looked like a group of midgets among them.

  All of that, however, paled in comparison to what awaited us on the opposing end. Upon the ground sat a crude throne made of logs, hides, and assorted other gunk. It was adorned with skulls – some human, some animal, some I had no fucking clue. That was all foreboding enough, but it was the giant pile of shag carpet that sat upon it that had me far more worried.

  Turd was kinda like Grape Ape’s little cousin, except far meaner, uglier, and probably a lot worse smelling. Oh, and he wasn’t purple either ... or
maybe he was. Who knew? It’s not like the filthy fucker had probably ever been near a shower, much less taken one.

  As we were paraded before him, the Sasquatches surrounding us all began to chant his name. “Turd, Turd, Turd...”

  Oh God! I couldn’t help it. It was still too fucking funny. I bit down on my lip, but I’m pretty sure even that wasn’t enough to keep the grin from spreading onto my lips. I glanced around and saw I wasn’t alone. In fact, of our group, only Sally and Christy appeared capable of maintaining a straight face.

  Still, the Feet continued their idiotic chant. Much more and I’d lose my shit. As it was, tears began to stream down my cheeks, and my face began to shake with the effort it took to keep the laughter in. Judging from the looks our captors were giving us, busting a gut would not go over well with them.

  Finally, the chanting stopped and, as it died down, one of beasts next to Turd shouted, “Behold how the T’lunta trembles at the sight of Turd.”

  Oh, Jesus Christ. Quick, stupid, think of something, anything: marrying Gan, Sally never getting her memory back, Sheila walking out after that ill-fated kiss.

  Combined, those did the trick and I managed to sober up, at least enough to get myself under control.

  Turd stood up. Over ten feet tall, he made the rest look almost compact in comparison. He only sported the normal two arms of his kind, but then, he probably didn’t need anything else. If he tipped the scales at anything less than half-a-ton, all of it muscle, I’d have been surprised.

  He looked me in the eye and smiled – I think. Humor and the Feet didn’t seem to really go hand in hand. Even smiling, their faces still looked about five paces north of pissed-off. “Freewill, T’lunta. Turd remember you.”

  The Sasquatches who’d brought us in shoved me and the other vamps in my group forward. Turd glanced at the leader of the raiding party and raised a brow questioningly.

  “This Magi and cub were traveling with T’lunta, mighty Turd,” it said reverently.

  Turd cocked his head to the side, making him look extra stupid for a moment. “Cub?” He pointed a finger at Ed and snarled.