Night School Book 2: Vampire Legion

by Alex Dire

  MacManus looked directly at Norman, taking his eyes of the road completely. “I am.”

  Norman hadn’t realized MacManus had a sense of humor. Now, in this desperate hour, the jokes just kept on coming.

  Another news chopper screamed overhead, heading toward the self-storage.

  MacManus rounded a corner fishtailing the rear wheels and sending Rae and Georgios tumbling against the side of the van.

  Norman detected a hint of a snicker on MacManus’ face.

  Then MacManus hit the breaks bringing the car to a sudden stop. Georgios and Rae careened forward, smashing into Norman and the back of the seats.

  Felicia chuckled like an eighth grader.

  “Here you go professor,” said MacManus “Stealth approach.” He opened the door and stepped out walking around to the passenger side. He then opened Felicia’s door and extended a hand. She ignored it and stepped out on her own, allowing that adolescent chuckle to escape once more.

  Rae slid open the side door and she and Georgios spilled out.

  Norman looked MacManus in the eye bringing out his best teacher face. MacManus stared back unflapped.

  Norman abandoned the staring contest, defeated. “You would have been a piece of cake in my Shakespeare class.”

  “Would it have helped me take arms against this sea of troubles?”

  Norman smiled. “Follow me.”

  “Of course,” replied MacManus “Mr. Bernard.”

  Felicia Chuckled again.

  Norman found the flirting at once cute and puke-worthy. A tough guy like MacManus would rarely flirt so publicly at night school. He was, however, from a different country, and a different generation.

  Norman walked to the side of the street with his little squad of vampires following close behind. He looked back. “Keep up.”

  He then blurred away down the road, turning at the first intersection. He stopped and hugged the side of a building. The group streamed in behind him an instant later. He put a finger to his lips and then peered around the corner of the building. He stared down the familiar street. He saw the abandoned building, stretching six or seven stories high. A block down, he saw the only unkempt structure on the street: the self-storage. Its facade looked familiar to Norman by now. However, there was one aspect that was distinctly different than his last disastrous visit to the building.

  It was completely surrounded by the National Guard.

  25

  Warehouse

  On each of the buildings surrounding the warehouse, snipers perched, aiming their long rifles down at the self-storage building. More soldiers lined the walls of nearby structures, crouching and pointing their rifles. The circle of troops slowly tightened around the building. A commanding officer lay inside the perimeter gesturing with his hands. The troops moved slowly toward the door, each with a rifle raised to his eye.

  Norman noticed the red LED on the door to the warehouse. It shone constant and warm. Suddenly, it blinked and turned green. His keen ears picked up the unlatching of the lock.

  The leading officer transformed his raised hand into a fist.

  The line of menacing soldiers stopped. Norman could practically hear their muscles tensing as they prepared for anything. Surely, they’d never been trained for what was about to burst through that door.

  Norman’s mind raced to find a way to intercede, to stop the carnage about to ensue. He could rush in and fight back the super-V’s that stood on the side of the door. Push them back into the building and fight like hell. It would give the soldiers time to retreat. But to where? Norman and his friends would be destroyed fairly quickly and then the Corps. V would continue their plans, barely delayed. Besides, Norman doubted the soldiers would retreat anyhow. They’d probably riddle Norman and his friends with bullets as soon as they sprinted to the door. It wouldn’t kill them, but man it would hurt.

  Norman’s thoughts cut short. The door flew open and a uniformed guard rushed out.

  “Help!” she shouted.

  Norman recognized the voice.

  “They’re in there. There are hundreds of them. She ran to the lead national guardsman.

  Norman noticed, for the first time, the sounds of the helicopters overhead. They’d increased in number in the last few minutes.

  The commanding officer relaxed the muscles holding his weapon and lowered its muzzle.

  “How many?” he barked.

  The guard kept running at him without answering his question.

  As she ran, her cap slipped from her head and a long shock of near white hair tumbled down her back. Skeete.

  “It’s okay,” said the commanding officer the instant Skeete reached him.

  She looked into his eyes, and he went limp. “No, it’s not.” She buried her face into his neck and sucked blood from the punctures.

  What had been a distinct line of soldiers, began to seem fuzzier as the soldiers shifted their feet, not knowing how to respond.

  “Captain,” shouted a man from the line of camouflage.

  Skeete released the captain who slumped to the ground in a pile of lifeless flesh. “Ahhhhhhhh. You have now idea how badly I needed that.”

  The officer in the circle shouted. “Fire!” He shot once. Skeete stumbled back as blood erupted from her shoulder. The rest of the brigade hesitated for only an instant. Skeete leapt forward at the nearest guardsmen. The line fired at the spot she’d occupied only an instant before. Skeete bit once more into the neck of another soldier, drinking deep and casting the body down. She grabbed the next one and drank again. The formation began to dissolve as they hesitated, not wanting to shoot their own men.

  Skeete threw the drained soldier toward the building and grasped at the next. Nearby soldiers dropped their rifles and wrapped their arms around Skeete pulling and yanking at her.

  Skeete, however, had just had a massive infusion of blood. Norman could see the lust in her eyes even from the distance. She batted and shook them away. More came in to wrestle her.

  She grabbed one buy the throat and pulled, tearing out his esophagus and larynx. Blood gushed in a massive spray on the nearby soldiers.

  One pulled his side arm and fired a shot. The instant before the bullet left the barrel, Skeete grasped his arm and shoved it up. The bullet flew harmlessly to the sky.

  She grabbed another soldier and bit into his face tearing off a massive chunk of flesh. She spit it out as the soldier fell to the ground screaming.

  For a brief moment she looked up to the sky where helicopters hovered overhead displaying a sickening red smile. She was playing for the cameras. It cost her, though. The moment she looked back down, three other soldiers grasped their side arms and fired into her chest. She fell back grimacing. Another soldier drew his pistol and shot her twice in the head. Brains splattered out the back of her skull. She fell to the ground, blood gushing from the head wound.

  "Cease-fire! Cease-fire!" shouted an officer.

  The soldiers stared at Skeete in her pool of blood. Some holstered their side arms. Others grasped their rifles which had fallen to the ground in the melee. They reformed their lines.

  The new officer stepped out of the ranks. He slowly walked towards Skeete’s still body. He motioned with one hand for two other soldiers to follow him. They approached with small cautious steps. They held their rifles to their eyes, tense with fear and anticipation.

  When they reached her body, the officer pushed the lapels of her uniform aside with the muzzle of his rifle, exposing the spots of blood on her shirt. He bent down placing his weapon on the ground. He patted down to her legs. Finding nothing, he looked back up at the soldiers covering him. "Nothing," he said. Then he turned back to her. “Wait.” He tilted his head and peered at the back of Skeete’s skull. He pushed her head to the side. However instead of a gristly mass of brain and bone, there was bright pink flesh. “What the…?”

  Skeete’s hand shot up and grasped the officer by the throat.

  The two officers fired their weapons. In that ins
tant, Skeete shoved the officer between her and the firing soldiers. His body absorbed the shots and he fell limp. Skeete stood and threw her human shield at the two guardsmen who tumbled back with the body.

  Just then Norman noticed the door to the self-storage. The red light blinked, then turned green. "This is about to get worse.”

  "What do we do?” said Felicia.

  The door swung open and Cornelius leapt through and into the air. He landed in front of the formation of soldiers.

  “Fire!" shouted one of them.

  The line exploded in flashes of light and sound. At the focus of the fire, however, remained only empty space. Cornelius had sprinted to the line, too fast for them to see, and had begun smashing through it. He tore through soldiers, taking out two or three at a time.

  Four more super V’s blurred out the door and hacked into more soldiers with their knives and fists.

  Snipers from the rooftops started firing. The guardsmen crouching around the corners fired as well. Bangs and flashes erupted from their muzzles. Echos like thunder reverberated through the streets and alleys.

  Norman tried to think through options. There were none. There was only one move ahead. “We fight," said Norman.

  “We die," said MacManus

  "Wait here,” said Norman to Felicia.

  "No way, Mr. Bernard. I can fight."

  "Not this time.”

  Norman stared into Felicia's eyes, focusing on the floating orb of her will. It was smoother, slipperier than it had been not long ago in her human life. However, she was a Nymph. She had not had the training or time to protect her own will, not from Norman.

  "No," said Felicia. Then her face relaxed. Her defiance evaporated.

  "I'm sorry." Norman dashed off straight into the most dangerous place on earth.

  Accelerating toward the fray, Norman plowed into Cornelius. They tumbled across the cracked concrete street.

  Norman reached a hand into his pocket and felt the edges of the tiny vial of Georgios’ mixture. Before he could get a grip, Cornelius wrapped his hands around Norman’s neck. Cornelius yanked up, throwing Norman through the air. As Norman flew and twisted he saw the ground, then the dark sky, then the ground again. He hit the side of and old building and felt his ribs crack. He slid to the pavement. He bit his lip in pain, drawing a drop of blood.

  Another hand grasped his arm, gentler than the first. It helped him to his feet. It was Rae.

  “Here we go again," she said.

  Bits of lead pocked the ground coming from all directions. The enhanced vampires sprinted around the battlefield with massive speed, reaping carnage in their wake. They ripped soldiers apart. They stabbed with their assassins’ knives. It didn't matter they were made of wood. The soldiers died all the same.

  The TV helicopters hovered overhead, cameras trained for all the world to see.

  Cornelius cut his way through the chain of command, taking out leaders, throwing the formation into greater and greater disarray. He was a formidable soldier. He barked commands as he waded through the line of national guardsmen. Other vampires fanned out from him fulfilling his commands. More poured out the door of the self-storage.

  Norman crouched with Georgios and MacManus trying to avoid stray bullets. “See that one? His name’s Cornelius.”

  They nodded back at him.

  “He’s their leader. If we take him out, or at least delay him, it might slow their onslaught.” Norman looked from face to face. “Plus, I owe him one.”

  Norman sped off down the street toward the chaos. The others followed. They blurred past crouched soldiers who aimed and fired into the fighting. Small bursts of blood exploded from the chests of Super V’s here and there. The large, fighting vampires shook off the impacts like mosquito bites.

  Norman trained his vision on Cornelius. Despite his great speed, the world slowed down around him. In a moment, he’d reach his target and tear his throat out. If Norman could get him quickly, Cornelius would never know what hit him.

  He passed the intersection where the tall buildings gave way to a bit of open space. Norman leapt over a small pile of bodies and arced his way through the air above Cornelius.

  Georgios and MacManus sped directly at the massive soldier.

  Cornelius saw the two vampires rushing at him. With indescribable speed, he flitted his hand to his belt and flicked a knife their way. An instant later, the small, sharp piece of wood punctured the shoulder of MacManus who screamed and fell. His momentum kept him tumbling over bodies. Georgios hesitated and looked to his careening friend. He slowed. His distraction proved a mistake. A shot tore through his gut from his back. Blood spattered out of his stomach. A second shot blew out his knee. He keeled over, his leg trailing by lines of veins and connective tissue.

  The two vampires rolled to a stop, their attack repelled before they reached their target. The effort proved fruitful however. Cornelius didn’t notice Norman descending until it was too late. He landed atop Cornelius digging his nails into the larger vampire’s carotid arteries. Blood sprayed from around the edges of Norman’s thumbs as they dug into the neck. His vision became obscured by the viscous liquid pumping into his face.

  Cornelius grabbed at Norman’s tight grip. The loss of blood proved too great. In the next moment, he dropped to the ground, unconscious.

  The sounds of the fight raised to a crescendo as the speed of the world caught up to real time. Norman saw super V’s all around him tearing into the humans who stood their ground, firing at the many invincible targets advancing on them without mercy. More came streaming through the self-storage door and into the fight.

  Norman crawled over to his friends. Georgios breathed rapidly. His knee had already begun to heal. In a moment, he’d be able to walk again. Walking would not be enough. He’d have to fight.

  “Damn it, Norman. This hurts like piss.”

  MacManus was already pushing himself onto all fours attempting to stand.

  “That’s right, brother. It feels like home.”

  Norman looked up in time to see a heavy boot clock him between the eyes. He reeled backward, his head smashing against pavement. He fought to remain conscious. He could feel the cartilage in his nose broken and shoved part way into his cranial cavity. The world pulsed and spun.

  A huge soldier stood over him with two wooden knives clenched in his hands. “Finally, a real fight.”

  Norman could barely keep the rock of a vampire in focus. He put his arm up to shield his head. The futile act inspired a short chuckle from the Corps. V.

  “Wait!” came Cornelius’ voice from behind. He approached, rubbing his throat. “That one’s for me.”

  Norman crept back on his elbows. Cornelius’ face curled into an involuntary smile as he closed the distance. As the super soldier passed by one of the many bodies, it came to life and grabbed his leg. When the form lifted its head, Norman recognized the curls of Georgios’ hair. Georgios opened his mouth wide. His fangs had already descended and he bit into Cornelius’ leg with brutal strength.

  The superior vampire grunted through clenched teeth and fell to one knee. Cornelius looked down and batted at Georgios’ head which bent to the side, tearing a chunk of leg muscle away. Cornelius screamed this time.

  MacManus grabbed Cornelius around the head from behind. With his other hand, he snatched the knife out of Cornelius’ grasp. In one motion he jerked it away and dragged it across Cornelius’ raw healing neck. Blood once again sprayed forth, a wood wound. That would take some time to heal. Plus, the all blood loss would require a feeding soon, if he was to remain in this fight.

  As Cornelius fell forward, he swatted at MacManus who careened a few feet backward.

  The soldier who’d delayed his attack fell on MacManus, stabbing him through the eye with his knife. MacManus let out a terrible scream. Norman’s senses had calmed enough for him to respond to his friend’s need.

  The soldier yanked the knife out and lifted it over his head.

  Norman grasped
the arm with both hands and pulled at it, fighting it’s thrust into the heart of MacManus.

  Georgios kicked at the soldier from his prone position.

  Norman could feel the strength of the Corps. V. He leveraged all of his vampire strength and could barely match the pull of the massive, muscled arm.

  MacManus screamed in pain covering the wound in his face. The splinters that wood left behind often hurt more than the weapon itself.

  Another soldier kicked Georgios out of the way. A second wrapped his elbow around Norman’s neck and squeezed.

  Norman instantly felt the blood stop its flow to his brain. He commanded his hands to pull harder, but they could not respond. His vision began to go tunnel as his fingers slipped from the massive soldier’s arm.

  Blood returned to his brain as he felt himself rising into the air. The soldier slammed Norman down onto MacManus. His rib bones cracked, and he heard some of MacManus’ skeleton become undone as well.

  Norman, MacManus and Georgios lay in a pile. They pushed at the ground trying to gain an upright position.

  More super V’s had taken a break from the fight to see what had taken out their leader.

  All around, the human guard attempted to create some kind of formation, but their enemies were too fast and too many. A group retreated across the intersection, covered by crouching soldiers down the street. Snipers rained bullets down on the Super-V’s. The lead pricked their skin like needles. Some of the head shots took vampires out: for a few moments.

  Cornelius rose to his feet. His hand covered his neck which still slowly oozed blood. His soldier cool broke and anger surged through: a cruel and deadly anger.

  This frightened Norman more that his soldier’s precision and detachment ever had.

  Cornelius moved to the front of the small squad that had gathered and stood over Norman and his friends.

  “They’re vampires, sir,” said one of them.

  “Yes. Yes, they are,” replied Cornelius. He bent over and lifted Norman up by the scruff of his shirt. He held him high in the air and shot pure malice from his eyes.