by Roger Keller
“Yeah, call my sister,” he said, without missing a beat. “Tell her I was, you know, brave.”
“Sure.” It wasn’t bullshit. I was surprised he’d made it this far without running off into the woods.
The sound of Heather breaking into one of the storage containers made us both jump.
“Stay here and guard our stuff,” I said.
Ron nodded, relieved.
I tapped the Beretta in my holster while I walked over to the container.
“You got a plan?” I said.
“Of course,” Heather said. She walked backwards over the rocky ground, never putting a foot wrong. “Check this out.” She rapped her knuckles on a five hundred gallon fuel tank that sat on a rusty steel trailer. “It’s more than half-full.”
“They didn’t even lock it,” I said.
“I guess they didn’t expect anyone to make it past that awesome fence,” Heather said.
“How much longer?” I said.
“’Bout an hour.” Heather checked her watch.
“I hope Misty pulled it off,” I said. “If she didn’t, it’s going to be a long boring night.”
“She’ll make it,” Heather said.
We waited, passing the time playing games on Ron’s phone. Heather asked to try. She made it about five minutes before she lost it and folded Ron’s phone in half like a piece of cardboard. She shrugged and handed it back.
“Why didn’t the screen break?” Ron examined his ruined phone.
I grabbed the gear and headed for a huge steel toolbox. It looked tough enough to absorb at least a few bullets.
“Why didn’t it break?” Ron’s voice trailed off in the distance. He followed Heather to the cinder block pile with the rest of the gear. Heather ignored him.
*****
The Society of Ancient Wisdom started showing up just before one. They drove right in through the open gate and parked like they owned the place. I saw the kind of expensive and rare cars you normally only see in movies. They got out of their cars with style and grace. All of them were armed, sort of. A white haired man in a sporting jacket pulled an engraved skeet gun out of his Range Rover. This was the most practical weapon anybody brought. There were a lot of decorative swords being brandished. A middle aged couple shared a set of katanas with purple ray-skin scabbards. Misty made it to the party too. A young Asian man with a crossbow stood next to her.
The group milled around under the safety lights. Lavinia climbed on a pile of two by fours and prepared to address her followers. She wore a bullet proof vest with police markings and held a small chrome plated pistol. An ax hung from her belt, completing the half-assed vampire killer look. I found myself a little offended by these rich posers.
I spotted the detectives Misty told us about, but no patrolmen. They looked bored and annoyed. Whatever they were being paid wasn’t enough.
The crowd gathered around Lavinia. Misty hung back at the edge of the group. She looked obscenely excited. Lavinia held up a hand to silence her followers. Whatever she had to say didn’t matter anymore. I walked up with the AK at my shoulder, just like I’d seen some special forces guys do it in a movie. On the opposite side of the group Heather did the same. The yellow safety lights reflected of her nickle-plated Mini-14.
“Don’t any of you fuckers move.” Heather’s voice was an ice cold roar that echoed across the construction site.
“Put your weapons down,” I said. “We just want the book. Give it to us and we’ll let you live.”
Heather looked at me and smirked.
“Perhaps we should give it to them.” The white haired, skeet gunner said. Heather’s burning eyes were fixed on him. “I’m sure we can come to an understanding.”
Murmurs of support followed. A few weapons fell to the ground.
“You fools,” Lavinia said, realizing what Heather was for the first time. “So, Melissa’s story of surviving a vampire attack was true.”
The crowd huddled together. I didn’t understand why they didn’t just scatter. We couldn’t shoot them all. Misty broke free of the group and joined Heather. The Asian man transferred his crossbow to his left hand and reached for her as she walked away.
“I see. So Melissa shows her true colors.” Lavinia pointed at Heather. “How ancient are you, that you have come to posses such powers? I remember you, you and your master. All my life I’ve known you’d return to finish me. I studied and planned, all for naught. I deserve an answer at least. Why did you kill-”
“King Snake were vampires,” Heather said. “They defied Lee Stoner and signed their own death warrants. Everyone in the club was under their power. We’re not even here for that. I never knew you existed until a few days ago. Just give us the book and everything will be cool.” Heather had her, cold.
Lavinia stared at Heather, mouth open. The pistol fell from her hand. Heather rested the Mini-14 on her shoulder. A pose from the A-Team, as if we were all buddies and nobody was going to die.
“I know we all want to avenge Mr Pederson,” the Skeetgunner said. “But the-”
“You just want the book.” Lavinia jumped off the pile, looking right at Heather. She went down hard on the cold gravel, but stood back up with out a sound. Someone handed her a leather satchel. She removed the book and held it out to Heather. “Take it, you monster.”
Heather disappeared. The crowd started to panic. Heather re-appeared behind Lavinia and plucked the book out of her hands.
“In there.” Heather used the Mini-14’s barrel to point at the open storage container. It was just big enough to cram them all inside. “It’ll give us a chance to get away. You guys have phones. They’ll rescue you in a few hours. By then we’ll be out of the country.”
In the background, Ron put his arms around Misty’s shoulders. She ignored him. I expected her to look conflicted or at least sad. Instead, she seemed to be relishing the whole thing
The Society grumbled and murmured their way to the storage container. Each person paused as they passed by me. I nodded and watched each one continue, relieved. They tossed whatever weapons they had left at my feet and smiled stupidly.
“This will all be fine,” a voice said from the container. “I have people waiting. We will not be in here long.”
A fat red-faced detective was the last one in. He looked right at me and froze. The detective’s eyes widened as his Glock landed on the weapon pile. “We’ve seen their faces. Wait-” I shoved him the rest of the way in, then pushed the container’s metal door shut. Chipped paint and rust stuck to my hands, looking like dried blood in the dark. I locked the chain and sealed them all inside.
I looked back and saw Heather standing on the fuel tank like an ancient queen, with Ron and Misty pulling the tank’s trailer like slaves.
“Are you kidding me?” I said.
“What are they going to do?” Heather said. “They’re like, trapped in a huge box. It was cold in their circle Mike, so cold it burned.”
Heather jumped off the tank and landed next to me. She grabbed a nozzle, just like you’d find at a gas station and shoved it into the container’s inspection port. “Now.” Misty shook with excitement, her breath coming ragged as she worked the hand pump.
The screaming started a few seconds later. Heather fell back into the shadows, away from the gasoline.
“Keep going,” she said.
I thought about opening up on the container with the AK. I wanted to give some of those poor fools a quick death, but I also didn’t want to ignite the gasoline that was all around me.
Suddenly all the screams, threats and bargaining ceased, leaving us in dead silence. Ron took his hands off his ears and looked at Misty. They both looked at me. Ron took out a cigarette and put it in his mouth, unlit. Misty kept pumping.
Then the chanting started. We all turned to the gasoline soaked shipping container. It was faint at first, but soon they all joined in. I couldn’t understand the words and I wouldn’t put them to paper if I could.
The pump ran
dry.
“This is fucked. I’m getting the fuck out of here.” Ron walked backwards ‘till Heather grabbed him.
Huge trees made up a borderline separating the suburban sprawl from the wild. We all heard it, sounds from just beyond the reach of the safety lights. Something massive moved out there. The sound of snapping trees echoed like gunshots.
“What the fuck?” Misty said, truly afraid for the first time since I met her.
“Come on.” I pulled her along with me.
When I got to Heather and Ron, they were both staring out at the tree line. The sounds continued. Another tree fell.
“What the hell is out there?” I swept the AK’s muzzle at the trees, as if it would have done any good.
“I have no idea.” Heather’s right hand opened, claws extended. “Let’s light ‘em up.”
“Fuck it.” Ron ran back toward the container. Misty beat him there. She grappled with him over something. “Get back, Misty.” She pushed Ron and he fell on his ass.
“I got this, Heather.” Misty held up Ron’s butane torch triumphantly. She crouched down. I saw a tiny blue flame, then a blinding light. Everything went up in flames. My vision was fucked by the fireball’s ghost image. I could make out Ron dragging Misty back by her jacket.
A loud hiss, like air being inhaled, came from the tree line. A voice echoed like thunder. “We are well pleased.” I started walking toward the trees. The storage container burned like a torch behind me. It seemed like everything I’d ever wanted was out there waiting. I stopped when I felt Heather’s claws on my throat.
“If you wanna die,” she said, “at least let me kill you.”
I snapped out of it and pushed her back.
“What the fuck are we gonna do?” Ron muttered to himself. “We’re all accessories.”
“I did it, I did it,” Misty said. Her eyebrows were gone and the sleeve of her jacket had melted, leaving scorched polyester hanging from her pale arm. She grabbed Heather. “Was that awesome or what? Now, make me like you.”
“You are like me.” Heather smiled at her. “The other stuff’s gonna have to wait. Right now, we got other problems.” She pointed at the trees.
“Whatever’s out there, I don’t think it has the power to leave the woods,” Misty said.
“Let’s hope so,” Heather said.
I could see straight again. Just in time to watch the fires dwindle and the safety lights dim.
“OK, time to go,” I said. “We do have the book somewhere, right?”
The book was waiting on the gravel, way too close to the ruptured fuel tank. Everything else around it was scorched. Marcello’s book however, was unharmed.
“They’re all dead.” Ron kicked the smoking storage container. “Fuckers. No way they survived that.”
Something big inside the container slammed into the door. The blackened steel shook and metal groaned. Misty jumped back and stumbled. I saw shells ejecting from the AK before I realized I was firing. The hammer fell on an empty chamber a few seconds later.
“What the fuck was that?” Misty said.
“Hold on to this.” Heather handed Misty the book.
I changed magazines without taking my eyes off the door. Something inside laughed.
“Shoot ‘em some more,” Ron said. “The fire didn’t kill all of ‘em.”
“Nothing human could have survived that,” Heather said. “You could see that fuckin’ fire from space.”
The door shook again. I held off firing, and waited for the inevitable.
A voice came from the container. “Plenty to eat in here.”
“Who are you?” Misty said, her voice bordering on hysteria. “I command you to tell me your name.”
I took a step toward the door and heard crunching and slurping. I reeled back. Heather grabbed her necklaces.
“I was called here, Melissa,” the voice said. “We all were. However, only I was able to find flesh to command. Damaged flesh to be sure, but with so many tasty things to eat in here, in the dark, my new flesh will be repaired soon. To answer your question, I have been called many names-”
“We don’t fuckin’ care.” Heather strode toward the container.
I reached out to stop her.
“I’m not waiting ‘till that, whatever it is, finishes eating.” Heather glared at me. She faced the container and kicked the door. “Come on out fucker.”
“Oh, hell no,” Ron said.
“Get ready,” Heather said.
Ron tried to pull Misty back, but she stood fast. Blackened pieces of her jacket fell away as she pulled loose of his grip.
“If you have a gun, then you better get ready to shoot,” Heather said.
I pulled the AK’s bolt back and checked the chamber. Ron took the Smith and Wesson out of his pants, without shooting himself, and pointed it sideways at the container. Heather unfolded the Mini-14’s stock and took aim. Misty armed herself with a piece of re-bar from somewhere.
Heat warped steel gave way and the container’s door swung open. The smell of cooked human flesh and smoke poured out. A hulking figure lurched forward and ducked to clear the roof of the container. He had once been a member of the Society. Pieces of designer clothing clung to his blackened flesh. Raw twitching muscle split what was left of his skin. Glowing red eyes were set deep under ridges of exposed bone. His lip less mouth was full of square, white teeth, dozens of them.
“Fresh meat out here.” He inhaled, with the ragged hole in his face that had once been a nose. I wondered how the freak could smell anything over the gasoline and smoke.
“What the hell is that thing?” Misty put her hand over her mouth.
“Blast him,” Heather said.
Heather and I opened fire. Bullets hit the freak everywhere. Pieces of flesh and shattered bone rained on the gravel. Somehow the freak remained upright. A burst from Heather’s rifle split the freak’s jaw and tore loose a piece of it’s skull. I felt the wind from one of Ron’s bullets passing by my head. I was glad he wasn’t smart enough to grab any spare magazines.
The freak’s ruined flesh knitted itself back together as soon as we shot it. It stepped toward us. Heather slung her rifle and took off her necklace. She wrapped the chain around her fingers so the cross and Marcello’s charm lay across her knuckles. Her skin sizzled.
“Fucker.” She uppercut the freak in it’s jaw, just at it’s face pulled itself back together.
The freak’s head snapped back and split open. Smoke rose from the it’s wounds. The process of regeneration reversed and the unnatural body fell apart.
We circled the pile of misshapen bones and liquefied flesh.
“How’d you know that would work?” I said.
“I didn’t.” She rubbed the burns on her hand and put the necklace back around her neck.
“Maybe it was the last straw or something?” Misty said.
“That’s not the reason,” Ron said.
“I think the presence is gone,” Misty said. “It’s over.”
Steam rose from the freak’s remains. Various insects and creeping things, things I didn’t even know lived in the Midwest, descended on the pile of meat and misshapen bones.
“We should get rid of the guns,” Ron said.
“Too much TV, that’s where you guys get those stupid ideas.” Heather rolled her eyes. “Gimme your keys.” She held out her hand. The burns had faded to red.
“Go get the car.” She threw the keys to Ron. “Run.”
Ron took off down the dark road. It was the bravest thing I’d seen him do yet. We had no idea what might be waiting out there.
“We could take one of their cars,” Misty said.
“We could, if all the keys hadn’t been incinerated,” I said. “Too bad, I always wanted to drive a Jag.”
Heather spun around, scanning for the next weird thing trying to get us. Then satisfied we were alone, she headed toward the cars. Misty looked over the book.
“That’s what all this was about,” Misty sai
d.
“Don’t try to simplify this mess,” I said. “This all just kind of happened. There’s no greater meaning or anything.”
“Lavinia never let me look in this.” Misty opened the book.
“She had the right idea. This thing wasn’t meant for us.” I snatched the book out of her hands. “I don’t need you fucking with this and calling up a bunch of zombies or something.”
We looked into the smoky darkness of the shipping container.
“What do you think that thing was eating?” Misty said.
“Let’s go see what Heather’s doing,” I said.
Heather had found a wool blanket in one of the cars. She set her loot according to category on different parts of the blanket. A huge pile of loose change sat in one corner. The skeet gunner’s shotgun and a few of the choicer weapons occupied another. Heather examined one of the purple katanas. Her lip curled in disgust. “Cheap poser crap.” She broke the blade over her leg.
“I want this one.” Misty broke the driver’s side window of a BMW with a rock. “What are we looking for anyway?”
“Stuff.” Heather tossed Lavinia’s pistol on the blanket.
Misty knew better than to question her further,
“Where the hell is Ron?” I said to no one, wondering where the fire department was. “We need to get moving.”
I helped loot while we waited for Ron. Misty found some kind of limited edition smart phone. Heather took a look at it, then threw it into the trees. I found an Omega Seamaster in the center console of a Mercedes. Heather saw me pocket it. She smirked and went back to sorting quarters by date.
My car rolled up a few minutes later and Ron parked on the road. “Come on.” He shouted through the open window. Heather gathered up the blanket and slung it over her shoulder. I handed Misty some of the gear and headed to the car.
“Let’s go to my house.” Heather got the shotgun seat.
“I, uh, I don’t know the way.” Ron looked back at me, eyes bugging out.
“Just drive,” I said from the backseat.
Chapter 13
We drove in silence for a a few minutes. Heather stared at Ron.
“Why did it take you so long to get back?” she said.
