Bill The Vampire - 01

by Rick Gualtieri

  “Age before beauty,” I quipped in return.

  “After today, let's hope age is still something we can worry about,” she replied, and entered the shop.

  I figured we'd be loading up with football pads and other such protection, but Sally told me to leave them. She explained that, against a vampire of Jeff's strength, a little bit of padding would have about the same effect as using a Kevlar vest to stop a cruise missile, especially for my roommates. Speed and mobility would be more important than body armor. I protested that at least some protection would be better than none, and, after a moment's consideration, she agreed. We settled on a few helmets for my roommates (being thrown face first into a wall could seriously ruin a person’s day) as well as some basic protection for our extremities such as elbow and knee pads. We'd look more likely to be spending the day at a skate park than in battle, but it covered the basics of leaving us mobile while not leaving us entirely unprotected.

  Next up, Sally started grabbing baseball bats, both aluminum and wood. The wooden ones, she explained, could be easily sawed off and sharpened. They made for much better stakes than just sharpening some random hunks of wood. I didn't argue with this logic, having seen Jeff make good use of one some weeks prior. The aluminum bats would make excellent bludgeons, being both well balanced, and sturdy. Okay, so now we'd be skateboarders with baseball bats. Forget the skate park, we were going to look like rejects from some bad post-apocalyptic movie.

  “Other weapons?” I asked. Sure I knew crosses and holy water were going to do dick, but off the top of my head, I could come up with a small arsenal of more interesting weapons than what we had picked out so far.

  “This is probably the best we can do for now,” she replied.

  “You're kidding me,” I said. “What about... say, a crossbow?”

  “Can you fire a crossbow?” she asked.

  “Well...”

  “At a moving target?” she continued.

  Okay, she might have a small point there. However, I was not to be deterred, “Then how about katanas, or a battle axe, or hell, some dynamite?”

  She looked me squarely in the eye and said, “Unless you know of any combination ninja supply and explosives depots around, then I'd say probably not. I know what you're thinking, but we don't have a week to prepare for this. We've got to make do with the best we can. Besides which, if you come marching in there with a ton of gear strapped to your back, you're going to be so weighted down that Jeff will just come strolling up to you and take your head off with one swipe of his claws. That would just be... embarrassing.”

  “Claws?” I asked, ignoring that last part.

  “Yes, claws. You know.”

  “No, I don't,” I admitted.

  “You've got to be kidding me,” she spat as she gave me an eye roll. Hey, at least now I knew the key to victory. As long as I pictured Jeff as Sally in mid eye-roll, then I was sure to be in a murderous rage. “Claws... like this,” she finished. She held up one of her hands and before my eyes the fingernails lengthened by about two inches.

  “We can do that?” I blurted out, despite the obviousness of it.

  “If you spent more time practicing and less time jerking off to internet porn, you might be surprised to learn what you can do,” she said as she turned to leave.

  “Hold on a sec,” I said, pulling out my wallet. I left some cash on top of the register. It probably wasn't enough to cover our shopping spree, but it made me feel a little bit better.

  She laughed as I did so and said, “You know, you really are just not cut out for this lifestyle.”

  As she walked away, I was forced to wonder whether she might be right.

  * * *

  We arrived back at the apartment to find Ed sitting on what was left of the couch. In his lap was the shotgun he had appropriated from his stepfather. Ed was busy loading it from a small pile of shells that sat nearby. He saw the look of surprise in my eyes and said,

  “Yeah I know, surprised the hell out of me, too. But it was still under my bed where I left it. I guess he was too busy trashing the place to be thorough.”

  “Either that, or he didn't think it was a threat,” Sally pointed out.

  “I think,” replied Ed, “I prefer to imagine the former, if it's all the same to you. Makes it easier to keep from losing it entirely and hopping on the next train to Canada if I do it that way.”

  “Whatever floats your boat,” I said, discarding our bundle of supplies onto the floor in front of him. He glanced at the pile and then looked me in the eye.

  “Are we fighting him or challenging him to nine innings at the sandlot?” he asked with a dubious tone.

  “Just because he wants to rip our guts out doesn't mean we can't be sporting about it,” I replied with a grin.

  Sally and I explained to Ed the logic behind our purchases. He agreed with us in theory, but said he'd be bringing along the shotgun if it was all right with us. Worst case scenario, he told us, was it didn't work on Jeff, in which case Ed could just use it to blow his own head off. Gotta love a guy with a contingency plan.

  “Where's Tom?” I asked while Sally went in search of something in our kitchen to use to sharpen the bats.

  “Tom's gone bye-bye,” he replied.

  “He left? Is he freaking insane?”

  “No,” explained Ed. “He's in his room. I just mean his mind's gone bye-bye. Dude is not a happy camper. I mean, I've seen five year olds take having their toys broken better.”

  “They're NOT toys!” yelled Tom as he stepped out into the living room. “They're investments.” Yeah, Ed was right. Tom had gone nuts. In my absence, he had apparently decided to Rambo-ify himself... or at least try to. He was wearing camouflage sweat pants, a black sweatshirt, and had what I assumed was old Halloween makeup slathered on his face in a bad imitation of war paint. The outfit would have looked like something a dork might wear to a weekend outing playing paintball, except for a few other accoutrements to round out the look. Stuffed in his belt were a few of the butcher knives from our kitchen, and around his neck, hanging from a length of clothesline, was his trusty Transformer totem, Optimus. In short, it was all I could do to keep from laughing my ass off.

  “What do you think? Pretty badass, right?” he asked.

  I tried, really hard, to think of something complimentary to say, but for the life of me, I couldn't. Fortunately, for once, Sally's caustic wit saved me.

  “Jesus Christ!” she said as she stepped out of the kitchen. “You look like GI Joe and Flavor Flav's retard lovechild.” That did it, Ed and I cracked up.

  “That's right, laugh it up now, assholes,” Tom said, “but mark my words... my babies will have their vengeance.”

  He probably said more, but by that point I was laughing so hard I could barely stand up, much less hear him.

  * * *

  It was nearing five a.m., almost time to leave. The stakes were sharpened, the gun was loaded, and our semblance of body armor was strapped on. It was only then that common sense once again reared its ugly head and smacked us in the face.

  “Has anyone given any thought,” Ed asked, “as to how we're going to get there, considering we look like a pack of reject extras from The Road Warrior?” Damn, he had a point. If it had just been the costumes, then nobody would have cared. You walk up and down Broadway on any given day and you'll see much weirder. However, add the knives, stakes, bats, and, of course, Ed's gun, and forget about the cops, we'd end the day having a nice chat with homeland security agents.

  Fortunately, Sally had given thought to this, as well. “Same way we got to Boston, by car.”

  “We ditched the car,” I reminded her.

  “So? We'll get another,” she said as if discussing the weather.

  “You're not going to kill someone else, are you?”

  “I've killed a lot of people before tonight and, assuming we survive, I'll probably kill a lot more afterward,” she pointed out in a tone more conducive to an icy-blooded sociopath. “
But, no. Nobody's out, and the streets are full of parked cars. Even here in the city, there are plenty of morons who don't bother to lock their doors. I'll just head a few blocks over and try to find one I can boost.”

  “Let me guess,” I said. “You know how to hot-wire a car.”

  She just shrugged and replied, “Doesn't everybody?” before disappearing out the door.

  Here Comes the Sun...

  Sally directed us to park in a little unmaintained lot next to the safe house. The place was surrounded by unkempt brush and garbage bins that sat there, full to the brim with their aromatic contents. It had been quite some time since either a garbage man or weed whacker had paid this section of town a visit.

  “Nice place,” commented Ed.

  “It's kept this way on purpose. Attracts lots of derelicts and drug dealers,” Sally said conversationally.

  “In other words,” I continued the thought for her, “people who won't be missed.”

  “More or less.”

  “This is kind of close. Shouldn't we maybe park elsewhere and try sneaking in?” I asked.

  “Pointless,” Sally replied, shaking her head. “There are security cameras on all sides. There's virtually no chance of someone getting in unseen.”

  “What about a hidden entrance?” I asked. “The coven had that... kitchen, I guess, down in the sewers under the loft.”

  “Good.” Sally smiled. “So you do occasionally pay attention. There's one here, as well, but same deal with the cameras. A pack of invisible ninjas couldn't sneak into this place without being noticed.”

  “So, we just walk in through the front door?” Ed asked.

  “Suits me,” growled Tom. He was starting to worry me a bit.

  “Yes, we just walk in,” Sally stated. “No point in giving him the satisfaction of seeing us try and fail to sneak up on him. He'll be expecting something panicky, so if you guys just stride up there like you own the place, it might throw him off his game a bit.”

  “You guys?” I asked.

  “Yes. I've been thinking that we might have one more trump card on our side. It's a long shot, but it's possible Jeff might not know I'm on your side. He didn't mention me on your answering machine, and he hasn't called my cell.”

  “At least that we know of,” Ed pointed out.

  “At least that you know of,” repeated Sally with a grin.

  “What are you guys talking about?” I asked.

  “Simple,” Ed explained. “She's been out of our sight a few times. How do we know Jeff hasn't called her? Right now she could be under his... what did you call it... compulsion.”

  “Smart boy,” Sally replied, still grinning. “It's good to know at least one of your little nerd herd has a functional brain. You should take notes, Bill. A little paranoia is a very good thing in the vampire world.”

  There was a moment of silence in the car, during which you could feel the tension rise. However, then realization hit me and I said, “Oh, this is stupid! She's obviously here on her own.”

  “How can you be sure?” Tom asked.

  “Because it doesn't make sense otherwise,” I replied before addressing Sally. “For starters, Jeff is an egomaniacal asshole. There's no way he's letting you take any credit for putting me down. Second, he wouldn't use you to kill Tom or Ed, because they're just pitiful humans.” I turned to them. “No offense.”

  “None taken,” Tom replied.

  Turning back to Sally, I continued, “It'd be one thing if my roommates were a couple of Navy Seals, but to use you to take out the human equivalent of a pack of Lunchables would make him look weak. Considering he's been looking pretty bad ever since I showed up on the scene, I'm betting he needs to bust all of our heads in personally, both to keep his rep amongst the coven and to sooth his bruised ego.”

  Sally's response was a slow golf clap. “Very nicely said. You have been paying attention, after all. There may be hope for you yet... assuming you survive the next fifteen minutes.”

  “So, where does that leave us?” asked Ed.

  “As I was saying,” Sally continued, “it's possible Jeff doesn't know I'm a part of this. If not, then there's no reason to tip him off until it's too late. As of right now, I'm your prisoner.”

  * * *

  The sun was just getting ready to peek its head above the horizon as we walked to the loading dock. Sally was front and center. Tom and I flanked her, while Ed walked behind with the shotgun pointed at her back. There was a security door off to the side, which Sally directed us toward, her voice taking on a shaky tone befitting her role. This was it. I was really hoping I knew what I was doing. But, any way I looked at it, I didn't notice an easy way out of this. Jeff wanted me dead, and if I didn't want to oblige him, then I had no choice but to take him out first. I tried not to think of what would happen if I failed. Likewise, I tried to push away the nagging thought that I was leading two of my best friends towards a horrific fate.

  I shook my head. I needed to stop that kind of thinking. Negativity wasn't going to win me the day. I was lucky to have such good friends. They were willing to stand by my side in the face of... well okay, it wasn't exactly the face of ultimate evil... more like the face of an overly powerful douchebag asshole. But still, that counted for a lot in my book. If I had to die, I had good company to do so in. Besides which, if anything happened to either of them, I probably wouldn't need to burden my conscious too much, especially since I'd most likely be quickly following.

  I reached the door and tried the handle. It was unlocked. I took a deep breath and pushed it open, leaping back as I did so. No point in just standing there if he was waiting on the other side to stake me. After all this build up, that would be an utterly embarrassing way to go.

  I needn't have worried. The entranceway was empty. Beyond the door was what appeared to be a small security checkpoint, unmanned, of course. Past that, there was an old walk-through metal detector through which the main warehouse floor could be seen. I was expecting a dank, dark place full of shadowy places perfect for an ambush. However, everything I could see from the doorway appeared brightly lit. Guess that made sense. Jeff wanted a face off, not an assassination. That, and turning off the lights on creatures who can see in the dark is probably not the most effective tactic in the world, anyway.

  “Come on in and make yourself comfortable,” a voice called from inside, “and close the door behind you. Wouldn't want you to get a... sunburn,” the voice, Jeff's, chuckled.

  “Help me, master!” Sally suddenly screamed out.

  “Quiet, bitch!” I hissed and then backhanded her. Sure, the entire thing had been prearranged, but I will admit it felt kinda good. I was pretty cool with her after all we had been through, but she was still the person who had gotten me into this mess in the first place. I was probably owed at least one freebie without messing up my karma too much.

  Her head reeled back much harder than it should have from the blow and she fell to her knees sobbing. She was definitely going for an Oscar with this one.

  “Get moving!” yelled Ed, prodding her with the barrel of his gun. When she hesitated, I grabbed her by the hair and dragged her in with me. That part hadn't been scripted, but when on the stage, sometimes one must improvise a bit.

  We walked through the non-functional metal detector, and I was able to get a better look at the surroundings. It looked defensible in case of a breach. Large wooden crates were strewn everywhere throughout the area, whether full or just for show, I couldn't tell. What I could tell is that they were placed in a way so as to force a visitor to walk a path between them... almost forming a sort of corn maze, minus the corn, of course.

  “Come along, child. Daylight's burning,” called Jeff's voice again.

  Tom, Ed, and I exchanged glances before entering the sea of crates. If it were possible for there to be a collective gulp, then I'm pretty sure we shared one. Heh! I was supposed to be all nervous and such, worrying about my mother. Instead, I was nervous worrying about getting all our a
sses out of there alive. End result is that I didn't have to put in a lot of extra effort to appear at the end of my already frayed nerves.

  We walked slowly through the warehouse maze. Sally kept her head down and continued to sob. Tom, Ed, and I tried to keep our eyes on all places at once: in front of us, behind us, and on top of the crates. Despite the large size of the area, the makeshift corridors made it feel very claustrophobic. The fact that we couldn't see over them, to what lay beyond, wasn't helping things. This was obviously all done on purpose. I just wasn't sure whether it was a normal thing or if Jeff had set it up specifically just for me. If the latter, I might almost feel flattered.