by Matt Drabble
“How was I supposed to know?” She snapped, her voice angrier than scared, “Who are they?”
“We haven’t been introduced” he replied not taking his eyes from the slowly approaching figures.
He took a careful step backwards towards her, wanting her out of harm’s way and safe, the brief thought and involuntary action surprised him.
The figures moved forward with slow menace, they held formation in a semicircle as they approached.
With a loud bang a staff door behind the bar area crashed open, Rybeck charged out and vaulted the counter impressively. Ghost could see that he was holding something, something with an electrical cord trailing behind. Rybeck charged at the first figure and thrust the device up towards the figures face. Suddenly the device powered up, and a blue light shone forth, “UV tanning light” Rybeck shouted in triumph, as the figure dropped and squirmed, its hands covering its face.
Ghost was about to join Rybeck’s triumph, when he noticed that the figure had jumped back to its feet, and the sound of mocking laughter filled the ballroom. He saw the flash of the blade but did not have time to shout a warning before it disappeared into Rybeck’s shoulder. He did not process the unfolding information quickly enough, but apparently Jess did.
“They’re not vamps” she cried, “They’re human”.
Jess watched in horror as the knife violated Rybeck; she had seen the supposed vampire's reaction to the sunlamp and felt that it was false even as he fell. Like the others, she had assumed that they were not human, and it was an assumption that kept them scared and at bay. She watched as the realization quickly dawned on Ghost, these weren’t unstoppable creatures of the night, they were just men. He moved quicker than she could almost see, and she suddenly witnessed firsthand, just why the city was afraid of him.
Ghost rushed forward in movement, but not in thought. The figures were aligned in a single file, he snatched up a bar stool by the legs on the run with a fluid dipping motion. He raised and smashed the stool full force into the first figure, as he moved the man’s face shattered under the impact. Ghost barely felt the impact up his arm and had already dropped the stool and pivoted to the next man, who was turning in surprise. The man stepped into Ghost’s elbow as it crushed his nose spreading the bloody appendage across his face. He dropped to the floor instantly, clutching his face in agony. Ghost met the next with a quick swinging boot to the testicles. The impact was satisfying and he felt no guilt as the man’s eyes crossed as he collapsed, he followed it up with a swift boot incapacitating to the temple. He felt a looping punch swinging from behind, he ducked and spun to meet the aggressor, the man’s missed punch sent him off balance falling forward. Ghost took a small pace backwards before gripping the falling man’s head and swinging his own knee up into the falling face. His grip was firm and his knee struck three times before he released the prone figure. Strong hands suddenly gripped him from behind and powerful arms circled his chest in a bear hug. Ghost raked his heel painfully down the man’s shin and threw his head backwards connecting with the man’s face. The arms released him with an anguished cry, he turned quickly, the figure was about his own height but much broader. He swung an open handed left stab that caught the man in the throat followed by a full force right hook. The hook struck flush on the man’s jaw and he dropped, Ghost turned to face the last one. All of the conflict had taken seconds, but they stretched out into hours for Ghost whose mind was racing, slowing time. The man that had stabbed Rybeck circled to one side, his knife held expertly out in front of him and dripping. The man that he had dropped with the elbow dragged himself nosily back to his feet, and Ghost cast half an eye back towards him. His nose was badly broken and blood flowed heavily onto the dance floor, he staggered drunkenly before producing a Glock 9mm from a rear holster.
“Nooooo” the man with the knife cried, “Alive you moron, have you forgotten what’ll happen to us?”
“Look at my nose” the second man cried, “He’s ruined my nose”
Ghost could only stand his ground as the large automatic handgun raised to point at his chest, the man staggered and swayed, but the guns aim held.
“Don’t do it, you’ll kill us all” the first man pleaded, “Shoot the bitch instead”
Ghost watched the man struggle through his watering eyes, he could see that the trigger was going to be pulled, he breathed deeply and prepared.
A massive shadow exploded from the side, a leaping mass of bulk and muscle, the gunshot detonated and the blast was deafening. Ghost tensed for the impact, but it never came, the black figure blocked his horizons before it crashed past and into the gunman. From the corner of his eye he saw Rybeck lurch to his feet and swing the UV lamp. Although the blue light itself was ineffective, the metallic casing was hard and unforgiving. The lamp crashed into the unsuspecting knife wielder’s unprotected head, rendering him unconscious before he hit the floor and Rybeck’s worryingly pale face swiftly followed it.
Ghost disregarded Rybeck and rushed to the gunman, he lay crushed beneath the much larger figure. Ghost rolled Eddie off with a struggle, the gunman was breathing, but motionless, Eddie was panting with difficulty. Ghost felt the sticky wetness as he rolled Eddie over; he looked down and saw a spreading red wound in the centre of Eddie’s massive chest.
“Eddie, Eddie” he cried slapping the big man’s face.
Eddies eyes were glazed and distant, his chest hitched and his breathing sounded sodden as his lungs filled.
“EDDIE” he shouted in panic, “Wake up, you bastard, wake up”
“Ghost?” Eddie’s voice was a whisper, “I’m sorry I got mad Ghost, I’m real sorry”
“Don’t worry big man, I’ll get help, they’ll be here soon, don’t worry, don’t worry”
Jess appeared over his shoulder, her soft hand gripped his shoulder as she leaned over.
“Hey Jess” Eddie’s fading voice managed, “Want to play some Xbox?”
“Sure Eddie, sure” she choked, “Just as soon as we get you home”
“Ghost?” Eddie coughed.
“Yeah big man”
“I’m kinda tired; I think I take a nap if that’s ok”
“Sure Eddie, that’s fine”
Ghost looked to Jess, her eyes filled, and she shook her head in disbelief,
“Do something” she slapped his shoulder, “Do something” she demanded.
Ghost looked at the large chest wound on Eddie, the dark blood on his hands and then down at the floor, he had seen enough gunshot wounds to recognize a fatal one. He reached over and placed his hand on Eddie’s, his disappeared inside the giant paw, for a second Eddie squeezed him and the next he was gone.
“Go see if Rybeck’s still alive” he said to Jess.
She did not move, he looked around at her as she sobbed softly, her shoulders shuddered, and her head dipped forward.
“Go see to Rybeck” he shouted firmly.
Jess looked at him blankly, then her eyes slowly cleared, and she was back in the room, she stumbled over to the downed detective.
“He’s alive” she called back, “But he’s lost a lot of blood”
Ghost let go of Eddie’s hand and stood, he wiped the blood on his hand absently on his trousers. He turned and walked unsteadily over to Jess who was kneeling over Rybeck.
“Is he…?” Rybeck motioned towards Eddie.
“Yes” Ghost answered with a low firm voice.
“Fuck, my arms killing me” Rybeck looked down on the floor around him, “Shit is this all mine” he asked nodding at the blood.
“Afraid so” Ghost answered.
“Then I need a doctor” the joke fell flat as he was suddenly reminded of his lost friend earlier.
“So what do we do now” Jess asked with a shaky voice.
“We, do nothing” Ghost answered distantly, “You’re going to get the detective here to hospital”
“And you?” she replied.
“I’m going to finish this”
“Oh you�
�re just a regular one man army” she snapped. “You’re just going to march right up to the lion and stick your bloody stupid head right its mouth” she sobbed.
“Maybe” came his low reply.
“You don’t even know where you’re going” she barked.
“I might” Rybeck wheezed.
“What, where?” Ghost demanded.
“I was checking out the Parkers a few days ago, they own a converted church over in Sandy Bay” he paused to catch his ailing breath and jot down the address, “I was snooping around and a couple of freaky dogs appeared out of nowhere to chase me off”
“Hounds of Hell?” Jess chimed in.
“Hounds of what?” Ghost asked.
“Hell” she answered, “In all of the folklore it’s said that vamps require daytime protection, vicious dogs are often recruited for that very purpose”
Ghost thought this over, “It makes sense that Drake would need to hide behind someone to begin with. I always dismissed Jimmy’s assertions that the Parkers were behind the incursions. It would seem likely now that perhaps Drake used the name to operate”
“If he used the name, maybe he’s using the house?” Jess suggested, “Just out of interest, where the hell is Jimmy during all this?”
“He’s safe” Ghost answered, “I sent him away before all of this came down” He stood and took his mobile from his pocket, he checked that he had a signal and handed it to Jess. “Call the police and tell them that there’s an officer down and to bring an ambulance. Rybeck can back up any story with the cops to explain our unconscious friends here and put you in the clear. Then go with him to the hospital and stay there”
“Why the hell aren’t I coming with you” she demanded angrily, “Why are you doing this. Come with us, we’ll drop Rybeck off at the hospital together and then get out if here” she began to lightly weep again. “We can go anywhere; just take off to somewhere hot where the sun shines all day, we can be safe Ghost, why not, why not?”
Ghost walked away from her slowly, he reached the back entrance door behind the bar and glanced back at Eddie’s still and cooling body, “Because I broke a promise once and I won’t do it again” he answered before leaving.
CHAPTER THIRTY ONE
April 2012
Kofi rose early, he could feel the dying drains of the outside daylight weakening him through the thick walls of the converted church. He rose with an iron constitution and a stronger will, the time was almost here.
Drake’s plans were about to bear fruit, and this would be the time that he was at his most vulnerable. With his eyes focused purely on his own vengeance, they would not see Kofi coming. All the pieces would be in one place, the competition would be finished, Moon the money man, would out in the open and Drake would be alone. Kofi knew that Drake wanted desperately to deal with his betrayers at his leisure and with privacy, and after tonight, he would be sealed forever behind a wall of security.
Kofi paced slowly around his room, he was finding that with an eternity stretching out in front of him, he was developing patience. All of the principal sleeping quarters were located in the basement; they were soundproofed, secret, and most importantly dark.
He sat down on the edge of his bed and slowed his excited racing mind, tonight he would have to wait, and he would have to patient enough to find the opening. Drake was planning on betraying Moon, so he knew that he could be next, Drake was naturally suspicious and may well expect Kofi to make a move. He would have perhaps one chance to strike, and he must be ready, the king is dead, long live the king.
The supermarket thronged with shoppers, it was after the school bell, and agitated children tugged at harassed mothers.
Ghost wandered the aisles, his basket swung with curious purchases, garlic cloves, a garlic press, sirloin steaks, bottled water, party balloons, and a super soaker water gun. He also grabbed some deodorant and mouthwash, he had been on the run for some time, tangling with the living, and the un-dead alike, had done little for his personal hygiene. He checked the clothing aisle and selected a baseball cap and a large dark hooded top. Next he found the school shelves and found a Childs large backpack and a cartoon themed drinking bottle. He would have given anything to be able to retrieve some of his arsenal at any of his safe houses, but they, and the businesses were compromised.
He paid for his purchases and headed into the public bathrooms, he managed a perfunctory wash in the sink, applied deodorant and mouthwash, at least when he died he would smell better.
He checked that the bathroom was empty and entered one of the stalls. He took the garlic from his bag and began crushing the cloves with the press. He removed the drinking bottle top and squeezed the white pulpy garlic into the bottle; next he used the water to fill the bottle and shook it to mix. He poured the liquid into the children’s water gun, the weapon was rudimentary, but he had witnessed the effectiveness of the garlic before. He added the rest of the crushed garlic into the now one third empty mineral water bottle. He shook the mixture before returning it to the backpack and left the stall.
He looked at his reflection in the mirror over the sink, his face was drawn, his clothes dirty, his eyes were laden with sleepy black bags, and yet he looked alive. His features spoke tales of stress and strain, but the emotions were real, his mask had not just slipped, it had been removed. For the first time that he could remember he looked real, he was Pinocchio turned into a real boy. His whole life had been a study in humanity and the reproduction of its emotions, but now his was real. He felt sorrow for Eddie’s death, even though the doctor had not been close to him; he still felt a small mourning. He felt a slight concern for Rybeck and a larger one for Jess, at least Jimmy should be safe and removed, for now.
He quickly left the supermarket; he wanted desperately to hotwire and steal one of the many vehicles. However after the fire at his house, and the undoubted discovery of a body, he knew that the police would be looking for him by now. He knew that Rybeck would not have mentioned his name at the hotel, and he hoped that Jess was safely tucked away at the hospital.
He wore the hoody and pulled the baseball cap down low; he waved over one of the taxis from the stand and slid in, he recited the address that Rybeck had given him and sat back.
He stared out of the window as they drove; the cab driver was blissfully silent, sensing that Ghost was not a talker. The daylight was weak and getting weaker, Ghost wished for an early morning at the height of the summer day. But all he had for company was a cold and damp spring late afternoon; the sun was already low and in danger of setting. He knew that he should hole up somewhere and for wait for tomorrow, but he feared that it would already be too late by then. If they were supposed to be held at the hotel at Drake’s request, then he would soon know that they were loose. If he had any element of surprise whatsoever, then he had to strike now, hopefully a full frontal assault would be the last thing that they would expect.
The drive was short and his thoughts shorter, the taxi pulled up on a quiet cul-de-sac road, the houses were silent and the people deserted. They pulled up by the side of the pavement and Ghost got out taking his backpack with him. He paid the driver who then left quickly; Ghost did not blame him, the whole street felt strange and oppressive.
He walked along the road towards the church at the end, the houses in between appeared empty, but he felt a thousand eyes watching him as he passed. The converted church welcomed him greedily as he reached the gates, Rybeck had mentioned the dogs, but he could see none at present. He circled casually around to the rear of the building, the railings were well maintained and possessed sharp spiked tips. The rear gate was secured with a large sturdy padlock, and he took a small leather case from his rear pocket. The case contained a small set of lock picks that he always carried, in his line of work he never knew when he might need to steal a car or enter a property. He opened the gate and stepped inside, as soon as his first foot entered the premises the dogs appeared. Rybeck was not kidding, one minute they were not in sight and the
next they wandered around the corner of the church. There were three of them, they were large and mean and walked slowly with a predator's grace. They stalked towards him, their paces steady, their jaws curled in silent violent snarls.
Ghost carefully slid the steaks from the backpack, tore them from the packaging, and dangled them before him; he used a sharp edge of a lock pick to prick his finger. He let the blood drip and fall onto the steaks, watching as the dogs picked up the scent. Their mouths drooled and their eyes glazed with anticipation as their pace quickened.
Ghost backed up to the gate; suddenly the dogs could bear the teasing no more and bolted. Ghost held his ground despite the overwhelming instinct to run. The thundering paws grew louder as the animals ran full pelt at him. Playing matador, at the last possible minute he threw the steaks behind him and spun to his right. The dogs followed the scent of red raw and bloody flesh out of the gate; Ghost spun back around and slammed the gate shut. He reached over and started to push the clasp of the padlock back into its housing, the gate suddenly shook as one of the dogs threw himself into the barrier. Ghost leant his shoulder hard against the gate pushing his weight against the frenzied wild animal; rapidly its two brothers joined the fray. Ghost’s fingers slipped on the padlock, his hands sweaty with effort and nerves, the three wild dogs hurled themselves snapping and snarling against the gate. The dogs were ripcord thick with muscle; their powerful shoulders thudded again and again. The gate started to give, as Ghost felt his feet slipping in the churchyard gravel, please, he thought desperately. Abruptly the lock snapped shut and he staggered backwards away from the assault, the gate held but bulged inward dangerously with every leaping dog.
Ghost looked to the clouding heavens and was appalled to see how far the light had already faded; he snatched up the backpack and headed through the graveyard. It seemed an appropriate setting for what was to come; he felt the hateful malevolence emanating from the church as it watched him approach. Stealthily he headed for the small rear door and knelt to pick the lock, he was engrossed in his work and never heard the footsteps approaching. At the last minute he felt a presence and turned, a figure loomed over him dressed head to toe in black, the figure wore heavy duty gardening gloves. Its face was completely covered in a balaclava with wraparound shades, and it wore a large comical woman’s sun hat. Ghost wanted to laugh at the absurdity of the apparel, but the swinging baseball bat ended his thoughts.
