“By who?”
“A Brotherhood team, sent by either Bishop Williams or his secretary.”
“Great.”
“Do you remember anything?”
“Last thing I remember is being sat on my bike and watching the bar.”
She looked up to the ceiling and thought about the information she was being given.
“You saved me from them?”
“Hey, I need you! Nobody else is lining up to help me.”
She giggled.
“You know you can leave anytime, this is going to get far worse before it gets any better, if we even survive that long,” said Bill.
“What else would I do? I can’t go back to my family, can’t work, this is my life now.”
“What will you do if we finish this, if we kill Rainer and his Coven?”
“What will you do?” asked Harriet.
“I have nothing left in my life, nothing but the desire to bring evil to justice. Once Rainer is dead there’ll be plenty more assholes to take down.”
“Want a sidekick?”
“I thought you just wanted revenge against Rainer?”
“I want to save others from ending up like me and you’re my best bet in making that happen.”
“Fair enough, then consider yourself my partner.”
Harriet smiled, it clearly meant a lot to her to be part of something. Bill felt the same, knowing he had someone to back him up, someone who felt the same way and was willing to act on it was reassuring. He had lost his family and friends, even lost his brothers to the corruption of Kingston, but now he had a companion once more. Marshall stood up and walked to the door, stopped and looked back to her.
“Stay as long as you want, the sun will be up soon, I’ll leave you to rest.”
“Hey, Bill, thanks, for everything, I know this hasn’t been easy.”
He nodded and then left the room. Getting back to his armoury, the humidity struck him. He realised that he hadn’t even taken his body armour off. He pulled the Velcro back and took off the vest, along with his shirt. Looking down at his chest there were two huge badly swollen black bruises. The vest had saved his life, but the pain was still substantial. He wondered how much more luck he would have in this conflict.
Having seen the injuries, his brain was more consciously feeling the pain. He sat back down and picked up the bottle of whiskey, drowning out the feeling more with each mouthful. He fell back asleep. His dreams were better that night, thinking of his family and the last mission he had been on with his brothers. His life had been turned upside down overnight, but for all the suffering, he wondered if it was all for a reason.
Throughout his time with the Brotherhood, it had become clear that the Church was losing ever more ground to the Vampire Lords. Maybe a disaster such as the destruction of his church was needed in order to create an instrument of punishment, as he had now become. He was coming to some kind of peace with the loss of his family, as he was seeing the possibility that some good may come from it.
Chapter 9
Marshall awoke with the heat of dawn. The sun’s rays were beating down on his lockup, the lack of ventilation and air conditioning causing it to be uncomfortably humid. He looked down at his wounds, the impact of the rifle bullets being a broad purple and black swelling. He sat up straight in the chair and winced in pain as the movement made his muscles and bones flex which were already sore.
Looking around the room, he remembered why he was where he was, giving up his bed to Harriet. She had been tired and drowsy in the night, and in the light of day, she would not have woken up. He could do with her help on some planning of the next part of their work, but he would have to let her rest for the day.
Walking out into the garage, he looked down at his bike, it had gained a thick layer of dust and grime, but he couldn’t find the motivation to clean it. Somehow, he preferred the bike looking well used. He looked around the room for something to wear, not wanting to interrupt Harriet. He found an old black vest in a box of assorted items but it was at least clean.
Clipping on his belt, Marshall pulled out his Mateba and simply looked at it, studying it intently. It suddenly dawned on him that for all his plans, the fight had so far been brought to him, he needed to turn things around. He would rest and wait out the day until Harriet was awake and they could thoroughly plan the next move.
Marshall remembered Harriet mentioning some information about the location of several members of the Coven, he was anxious to dish out some pain, but it would have to wait. He pulled on his leather coat and mounted his bike. There was nothing for him to do that day, no information he could successfully act on, nor risk he was willing to take.
The back wheel smoked as Bill sped on down the road. He hit the open road and just enjoyed the ride. The cool breeze through his coat and aching body was a welcome change from the heat and sweat of the city. He headed for the coast, to look out across the ocean. On the few weekends he had free with his family, it was his favourite place to enjoy their company.
He wasted away most of the day wandering up and down the coastline, taking in the supreme views and the fresh sea air. It was the best he had felt in a long while. Bill thought continually about his current course of action. Despite being a good hunter whilst a member of the Brotherhood, he had always given careful consideration to his actions, not worked on impulse only.
Rolling the situation around in his head, Marshall could think of no alternative that was at all satisfactory. No matter what had been done to him and his family, he had to think objectively about the turn of events. But, however he looked at it though, Rainer was a curse on the State, he would only bring pain and suffering to the people who lived there.
Chasing down a Vampire Lord would inevitably bring a lot of heat onto his shoulders from the Vampire world, but that was unavoidable. He would not stand by and not act because of what might happen. With nothing left to lose, he could afford to be a pure instrument of justice.
Hours had passed while Bill sat contemplating his predicament. It was only when he noticed the long the shadows of the trees beside him that it dawned on him it was late into the afternoon. He climbed onto his bike and headed back into the city. Riding through the streets, life continued as it always had.
Looking at the average street, you would never have realised that the Vampires existed, for they had changed nothing to the casual onlooker. Occasionally the public heard a shock and awe story about a horrific incident involving a Vampire, but it was no more frequently reported or worried about than similar serial killer headlines.
The Vampire Lords had done a supreme job in keeping their evil and wicked ways out of the public eye. Meanwhile, they worked their way into big business and perhaps even levels of government. Nobody knew how long Vampires had been in existence. Some speculated that it was only in the last hundred years, whilst others believed that they had in fact lived alongside humanity for many thousands of years.
What annoyed Marshall the most was that so many were well aware of the dangers Vampires presented, but no one was willing to act against them. Authority figures would pursue the worst of the ghouls, but treated the rest with the same respect as humans. Bill felt that the general population would support a move against the Vampires, but any critics had always been silenced.
It was not enough that Rainer and his Coven suffered, Bill knew that their downfall must be seen publically. He knew that he could never prove what Rainer had done to his family, but it didn’t matter anymore, he would know.
Marshall pulled up alongside Murphy’s, it was the first time he had been there when the sun was still up, but it was the last half hour of sunlight. Stepping through into the familiar bar, it was eerily quiet, too early for the regulars.
“Hey, Bill,” said Mitch.
“Mitch, how’s it going?”
“Same old, can I get you a beer?”
“Yeah, sure.”
The TV in the room was on, loud enough that the landlord could he
ar it whilst he prepared the bar for the evening. The news headlines were playing through as Mitch placed a beer in front of the weary Marshall.
“You see this story?”
Bill looked over to the screen, a reporter was in mid interview.
“No, what is it?”
“Damn Vamps killed eight people in a bar down town.”
“Any of them get caught?”
“No, usual story, no witnesses or leads.”
Bill sighed, he wanted to tell Mitch about his exploits, but he couldn’t risk being identified, or endangering any more innocents.
“It’s about time the police got a handle on those bastards, they’re evil to the bone.”
Marshall nodded, he fully agreed. He knew that ten or twenty years ago, Mitch was the sort of man he could have been working with in the Brotherhood. The wise barman quickly saw that Bill wasn’t in much of a mood to talk, he didn’t mind. Marshall simply sat and watched the news as Mitch cleared up the place around him.
Each news story was no better than the last, murder, theft, rape, grand theft auto, fraud and scandal. The city was a hive of sin and corruption. Cities had never been without crime and vices, but the Vampire Lords elevated the troubles to astonishing proportions. They revelled in human suffering, took advantage of the weak infrastructure and fed off the unfortunate.
The stories made him sick to his stomach, almost enough to put him off his beer. Day turned quickly to night, but it was still early for the punters. Sitting at the bar, Bill had his back to the door, something he would never normally do, but had just not cared enough to move. He heard the front door swing slowly open behind him.
Looking up from his drink, Marshall could see Mitch quickly reach for his shotgun, with a clear intent to use it. As Bill spun around, he reached for his revolver. A huge man, South American in origin and almost seven foot tall, was stepping aggressively forwards and filling the doorway. The stranger had a bulky and strong frame, with a scarred and jagged face. He looked as if he had been though a career of pit fighting.
The shotgun in the stranger’s hands, a massive Franchi Spas 15, box fed automatic shotgun, the massive man dwarfed the monstrous weapon. Before Bill had a grip on his handgun, the first shot had already fired, quickly followed by a second. Both shots hit Mitch square in the chest, blasting him back into the bar, bottles smashing under the weight of his body.
Marshall’s fingers took hold of his revolver and drew it before the imposing attacker could turn his weapon. His first two shots rang out, each hitting the body of the weapon and causing it to drop from the attacker’s hands. The man rushed at Bill, who fired off four more shots in rapid succession. All four of the silver bullets smashed into the stranger’s chest, but to almost no effect, the man barely twitching from the impacts.
Bill looked in shock as the thundering titan pounded towards him. The Mexican behemoth shoved him back against the bar as if he weighed nothing at all. He grabbed the collar of Bill’s coat and hoisted him off his feet, head butting him in the face. Marshall was stunned by the strike, but before he could recover, Esesino threw him across the room, smashing into and destroying a table.
Rolling over, part intentionally and part from the momentum, Bill fought to get to his feet, he drew out his knife, though his knees were slightly shaky. Esesino charged at him, Bill thrust the dagger towards his aggressor, but the man parried it with an iron arm, smashing his jaw with a hook. The knife dropped from Marshall’s hands as he staggered across the room. As the stranger stormed towards him, he just managed to duck under a punch, drawing his wooden stake and driving up towards the man’s heart. The sharpened wood stopped dead on the man’s chest, not penetrating an inch. The man was wearing body armour, fangs sprung out from his mouth in anger as he smashed Bill with a back fist.
Marshall reached for a broken table leg from the floor and swung at the Vampire, hitting him square in the jaw. The creature’s neck jolted back but quickly recovered. He took the brief respite to get properly to his feet and held the wooden leg in both hands, the only weapon he had available. The Vampire looked angry, a murderous look in his eyes.
Esesino charged at Bill, who swung the table leg with all his force, snapping it over the Vampire’s arm and knocking it down. Using the opening, he punched hard against the creature’s face with two strikes, but it had little effect. The Vampire grabbed him by his collar and threw him over the bar. Bill looked over at the body of Mitch, he was riddled with lead, dead before he hit the floor.
Grabbing Mitch’s pump action shotgun, he leapt up from the bar as Esesino was descending on it. He fired at the man’s chest, stopped him dead in his tracks. He racked the gun and fired again to the face. The pellets cut the flesh of the man’s face, but he was recovering quickly. The shotgun had regular ammunition, no reason most people would ever have silver.
Firing the last five shells in the gun in rapid succession, Bill could only hope it would slow the monster down. The final shot knocked him off balance and down onto one knee. Bill jumped over the bar and made a sprint for the door, the empty shotgun in hand. As he passed Esesino, the Vampire grabbed at his leg, sending him tumbling to the floor.
The Vampire stumbled along the floor to reach him, still recovering from the lead imbedded in his head. Bill staggered to his feet and reversed the shotgun, a classic wooden stock Remington. Marshall smashed Esesino in the face five times until he dropped to the floor from the trauma. Not waiting for him to regain his composure, Bill stormed out of the bar.
Reaching his Harley, he flipped open one of the side boxes, pulling out his Melkor grenade launcher. Just as he took it in hand by the two vertical grips, Esesino appeared in the doorway, blood dripping from his head wounds and trickling down his face.
Marshall lifted the launcher and pulled the trigger without hesitation. The shell slammed into the chest of the Vampire who stood just thirty feet away. The shell exploded on impact. Bill turned at the last second to hide his face from the debris, but the blast impact still knocked him off his feet. He felt the heat of the explosion from his position, debris and dust from the bar scattered over his position.
Getting to his feet, Marshall looked at the carnage he had caused. The entire front of the bar was demolished, with no sign of Esesino. The wooden interior of the old bar were still smouldering. Bill walked up to the bar, stepping over brick rubble. Resting against it was what was left of Esesino, his head and part of his torso.
Bill collected up his weapons from the ruins and then walked up to the remnants of his would-be assassin. He kicked the remains, the eyes and mouth open, the Vampire clinging on to life. Marshall walked behind the bar and took two bottles of spirits, he popped open the bottles and poured them over Esesino.
“You’re just another ghoul bastard, you’ll die like the rest!”
The ferocious monster didn’t speak, he could not from his horrific wounds. Bill pulled out his Zippo lighter and flicked up the lid, striking it alight. He dropped the Zippo onto the Vampire’s body and watched it catch alight. Marshall stood and watched the body go up in flames. He turned and staggered back to his bike, barely able to stand from the beating he had taken.
Strapping the Milkor back into its case, Bill climbed on, barely able to stay upright. He fired up the bike as a police patrol car slid around the street corner. The loud hailer rang out from beside the car before it had come to a stop.
“Hey, you, hold it right there!”
Marshall knew he could not be taken by the authorities, he may have stood some small chance of walking free a few days before, but now he would be treated very differently. He considered storming off down the road, but knew that it would quickly result in a substantial police pursuit. He barely had the energy and stability to keep the bike up, blood gushed from his nose and his face badly cut, his head was dizzy.
Turning the engine off, he tilted the bike back onto its rest and whipped out his mobile phone from his pocket, punching in a speed dial code. The loudhailer rang out again,
the officers thinking he may well likely try and run.
“Get off the motorcycle and put your hands behind your head!”
The operator to the police precinct answered his call.
“Put me through to Detective Frank Matthews please.”
“He’s busy right now, sir, who is calling?”
“Please, it is an emergency, put him on the line!”
“Please hold.”
Bill waited desperately, praying that he could get out of this squeeze, the cops before him were becoming agitated and impatient.
“Sir, get off the bike!”
Finally, Frank came onto the phone.
“This is Matthews.”
“Frank, I’m in a bind, I have two cops trying to arrest me, I cannot let that happen,” said Bill.
“Well what do you want me to do about it?” he asked.
“Anything, I cannot be taken in, Frank, you know this. I don’t want to harm anyone, but I will, given no other choice.”
“Alright, I’ll do what I can.”
“Do it fast, I’m running out of options here!”
“Alright, what’s the patrol car number?”
“321.”
“Ok, give me a sec.”
Frank ran to the radio room, there were three staff on duty. He burst through the door, causing the officers to flinch in surprise.
“You, get me car 321, right now!”
The officer turned back to her radio, looking flustered. She called in the car as Bill waited desperately, wanting anything but to have to turn his weapons on what appeared to be decent and upstanding officers.
“I’ve got the officers for you, Detective.”
“Alright, give me the handset.”
Frank took up the radio, hoping he could talk his way through the situation.
“Who am I speaking to?”
“This is Officer Monroe.”
“Alright, Monroe, I’m Detective Frank Matthews. The man you are about to detain is an informant who is vital to me in a number of cases.”
“Sir, he’s at the scene of, well, I don’t know what, it looks like a warzone.”
Judge of the Damned (Vampire Storm, Book 1) Page 13
