For years Massimo had heated discussions with the townsfolk, regularly getting into late night drunken debates about the flavor. It was as if they tasted something different to Massimo. And each morning when he woke up with a hangover he knew that they were right and he was wrong.
The change in Massimo’s taste occurred after the WWDE, at the same time he gained the ability to daywalk. Since then, a fresh apple tasted like it had been rotten for the same number of years he’d been alive. At first he thought he was going crazy, and that his mind was playing tricks on him that he was really eating a rotten apple. Only when friends confirmed he wasn’t, that’s was when he worked out that something had changed with his nanocytes. Food had never been the same.
But if that was the side effect of being able to walk out in the sunshine again? He’d take it.
He opened the door to the shed and looked at the empty bottles lined up on the shelf. The labels on the bottles were simple, with just the word “Vamp” written on them. He’d tried to draw a cool picture, but it had ended up looking like a drunk child had drawn it. Leandro had attempted his own version but that had been even worse.
Since paper was a luxury, they stuck to just writing the one word on each label. It didn’t have the same feel as beer bottles from the good old days, but at least the liquid inside was decent.
He poured the beer from the kegs into the funnel that filled the bottles. There was something pleasing about filling the bottles and capping them. It was like seeing a project through from start to finish.
Sometime after the WWDE, the world started returning to normal and Massimo had decided to guide the settlement closest to him into the modern age.
Well, as much as he could.
He was quite proud of his results, but there was always room for improvement. But the vampire wasn’t afraid of a little hard work for the sake of making the people of Pinewood’s lives better.
Massimo knew that all good towns needed a bar. His time in England had shown him that. English people had a pub in every village and loads more in the cities. His bar was the heart of Pinewood, the place where the townsfolk gathered after a hard day’s work.
When Massimo had named his bar ‘The Old Dog’ Leandro thought he’d named it after him, which he wasn’t too happy about, but Massimo had actually named it after his first wife, Bridget. He’d married young, and she had turned out to be a total ballbuster—and not in a good way.
The woman had a temper like an active volcano, and she’d blow her top at the slightest provocation. Massimo had forgotten to take out the trash one morning, so she had destroyed his record collection. Records could survive just about anything if you kept them away from sunlight, cold weather, or water, but get them near a pissed-off wife, and they didn’t stand a chance.
When Massimo was told he had six months to live, he’d realized that Bridget had to go. He thought he would have six months of freedom from her, but he’d had more than a lifetime since he had been turned into a vampire before death could claim him.
Unfortunately for Massimo, there were a lot of women like his former wife, and he somehow managed to fall in love with all of them. His taste in women was terrible, but, at least, his taste in beer was spot on.
Once he had filled enough bottles for the bar’s daily needs, Massimo placed them in the cart ready to take to Pinewood when Leandro returned. Kelvin, the bar manager, would have the empties ready for him, and they would bring them back and repeat the process.
Pleased with his work, Massimo drank one of the beers. Over the years he’d got used to the taste. The beer was a little warm for his liking but refreshing nevertheless.
The people of Pinewood would be happy with the results of his hard work, except for Tightwad. He was one of several customers who didn’t get drunk from the beer or hard liquor Massimo sold in the bar. To them, it was like drinking water.
Strangely enough, when Tightwad drank actual water, it was a different story. Regular old water got him so wasted that he was unable to walk in a straight line or string sentences together.
Lucky bastards like him would have saved a fortune on booze before the world had been nuked back to the Stone Age. Then again, Massimo guessed that the nuclear Armageddon was the exact cause of this strange phenomenon.
Massimo thought that maybe Tightwad had his own type of nanocytes, working in his blood to turn water into wine. The thought always made Massimo chuckle, because that made it sound like if Tightwad was God in colorful knitted sweaters. He was a good guy, but not God material. He just didn’t know.
That was his theory, anyway, since there was no TV or internet to tell him differently.
He took another sip of Vamp and grimaced at the bite from the acid as it hit his mouth. It had a kick, but he knew it was nothing compared to the potato vodka distilling in his vault under the house. Now that the beer was taken care of, Massimo could have his first taste.
When he got back to the house, ‘Mamma Mia’ was playing in the background. He left it on in the hope that it would keep Leandro from disturbing him once he was in the vault. Massimo had been looking forward to tasting the vodka since Leandro had brought the cookbook back from his last visit to the abandoned mall.
His only wish was that his son had opened the book and looked inside first. The pages must have gotten wet at some point, and mold covered half of the recipe, making it impossible to decipher fully.
Massimo had been smart enough to figure most of it out, or at least he hoped that was the case. Getting the measurements right could be a little tricky. He shuddered at the memory of the first batch of beer he had made, a flat and insipid brew which had tasted like old socks.
He flicked on the light switch in his vault. The bulb flared brightly and then blew out with a pop.
“Damn bulb was supposed to last for ten years. Piece of junk.”
Massimo closed the vault and headed back up the stairs to get a new one. He brushed the dust off the last box of bulbs on the shelf, and it did say they would last over fifty thousand hours. Surely, he hadn’t used it that long?
Then again, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d asked Leandro to stock up on light bulbs. He added the item to the list on their fridge. Then, he found a half-burned candle in a kitchen drawer and lit it. The vault would be too dark to change the bulb without a light source.
Massimo headed back down the stairs. When he opened the vault’s door, he was blown halfway back up the stairs from the force of the explosion.
Terrier walked slowly through the forest, much to the annoyance of his captors. Well, they hadn’t captured him, really. He was heading back to the bunker of his own free will.
Sergei was getting pissed off at Terrier’s slow pace. Ivan’s head was getting heavy, but Sergei couldn’t give it to anyone else to carry. They’d keep it for themselves and present it to Afana as their own prize.
“Hurry up.” Sergei pushed Terrier forward. “I’m looking forward to my reward.” He winked at Nestor, who laughed in return.
Terrier looked at the men in disgust and stopped walking.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” Sergei asked, annoyed.
Terrier pulled on his matted beard. “I was just thinking that Afana’s reward will be wasted on you.”
Sergei snorted. “And why’s that?”
Terrier shrugged. “Because of your tiny dick, of course. It’s more likely to get stuck between a woman’s teeth than to bring her pleasure.”
The other hunters burst into laughter, and Terrier’s whole body shook with mirth.
Sergei’s face turned an ugly shade of crimson. “I don’t know why you shit-stains are laughing. You’ve all got little dicks, too. I’ve seen them.”
Terrier’s eyes widened, and he laughed even harder. “Have you been looking at our cocks?”
“No,” Sergei spat, but the other hunters weren’t going to let him off the hook that easily.
Nestor pranced over to Sergei and waggled his hips suggestively. “I
s this what you’re into, Sergei?”
Sergei swung his machete at him, and Nestor leapt back, laughing.
“Too slow,” Nestor said, holding up his bandaged arm. “Ivan was faster, but I suppose he didn’t have dicks on the brain.”
Terrier saw his chance to add fuel to the fire. “Dickbrain! Now, there’s a good nickname for Sergei.”
The other hunters howled with laughter. Yegor hunched forward, holding his hands to his stomach, Nestor wiped tears from his eyes, and Pavel looked like he was about to piss himself.
Sergei shook his head and glared at the others. “Why the hell are we talking about nicknames? We should be focusing on the job at hand.”
Terrier wasn’t about to let him restore order so quickly. “Guys, he’s right. Let’s not get distracted by stupid nicknames. We were talking about how small Sergei’s dick is.”
“I don’t have a little dick!” Sergei protested. Terrier thought he was trying to sound tough, but the words came out more like a pout.
Nestor had a mischievous look on his face, much to Terrier’s delight.
“Compared to Terrier, you do.”
Sergei rolled his eyes. “Well, yeah. Compared to Terrier, everyone does. He’s a fucking freak of nature.” The words tumbled out of his mouth before his brain caught up to what he was saying.
Terrier’s mouth fell open in a huge grin. He turned to face Sergei, and Sergei raised his machete to Terrier’s face. “Not a fucking word!”
Sergei shoved Terrier in the direction of the bunker to get him moving again. He knew not to press Sergei any further. Push him too far, and it would be off with his head. Terrier intended to keep all of his parts intact for the time being, although he had no idea what would happen once he got back to the bunker.
His only consolation was that he’d bought Ryder some more time to escape. His stalling had given her a decent head start. His juvenile dick jokes might have been the difference between life and death. He just hoped she had gotten somewhere safe by now.
Massimo’s hair was on fire. He could smell the acrid smoke and feel the heat on his scalp. He frantically patted his hair, trying to stop the burning.
Massimo’s calculations had clearly been wrong. He guessed that too much methanol had developed in the mixture, and it had created a fireball when the candle flame touched the flammable air in the vault.
“Damn it all to hell!”
His hands stung from the flames, but, at least, he’d extinguished his hair. Massimo’s bones hurt a little from hitting the stairs. He got to his feet, trying to ignore the pain as his nanocytes healed the damage from the impact.
The candle was still lit, and he snatched it off the step before that too caught on fire. He headed down to assess the damage. All his most precious belongings were in the vault.
His useless cookbook was on fire, and so were some of his favorite books. Massimo needed a fire extinguisher, but those had all expired centuries ago. A damp towel would have to do.
He ran upstairs and flung open the fridge to get the water jug. The jug had less than a mouthful of water in it.
“Leandro, you imbecile!”
This had been one of Leandro’s favorite games since he was a teenager. Massimo had made the mistake of telling him to fill it when it was empty, so Leandro made sure it was never empty. You’d think a grown man would have gotten tired of the childish rebellion, but apparently not.
Massimo ran around his home trying to find enough water to put out the fire, and when he failed, he headed outside to the storage container.
Luckily, Leandro had kept up with that chore. He scooped out a jug of water and poured it over a rag. Then, he took the rag downstairs and patted the wet cloth on his books to extinguish the flames. It had taken him years to acquire all these books. They were the most precious thing he owned.
When the fires were out, he looked around his vault. The explosion had thrown everything into chaotic jumbles, making a dreadful mess. His failed batch of vodka was now a muddy puddle on the floor.
“For fuck’s sake! This is going to be a nightmare to clean up before Leandro gets back.”
Leandro would bust his chops for making his liquor down here. Massimo had wanted to keep it close so he could keep an eye on it, but now, his walls were black from the fire. He pinched out the flame on the candle so he didn’t have to see it anymore.
“Massimo, are you in there?” Kelvin called as he banged on Massimo’s front door. Kelvin often visited, but there was worry in his voice today. Massimo knew something was wrong.
Massimo quickly went upstairs and opened the door. “What is it?”
“There’s been a murder in Pinewood.”
7
Ryder sat on the sandy bank of the river, taking stock of her situation. So far, there had been no sign of Afana’s men. Whatever Terrier had done, he’d managed to stall the hunters from giving chase.
Still, Ryder knew they would come after her eventually. She had to make the most of the extra time Terrier had given her. She needed to get moving, even though she was still weak from nearly drowning.
She would have drowned if the wolf hadn’t saved her life for the second time. Either he was her guardian angel, or it was saving her for dinner.
As grateful as she was for the wolf’s assistance, she wished it had deposited her on the opposite shore, away from the bunker and the bloodthirsty hunters. She was right back where she started, only weaker and with less time to escape.
Fucking awesome.
She gazed at the goddamn swamp with disdain. It sat in front of her, taunting her, saying ‘Come on, loser. Try your luck again.’
There was no way around it. If she wanted to get away, she had to go through the swamp. That meant more gross water, more deadly animals she couldn’t see, and more chances for her to get swept away and drown.
Ryder got to her feet and paused at the water’s edge. After her last attempt, she was rattled and unsure of herself.
Then, she heard Sergei’s voice in her head, mocking her. You’re right to be afraid. You’ll die in there. Stay here and let me find you. First, I’ll take your body, and then, I’ll take your head.
The thought made her shudder, but it also steeled her resolve. She’d rather drown than let him lay his repulsive hands on her. She gritted her teeth and took the plunge, walking into the murky water.
She wished Terrier was here. He would have carried her on his back like she weighed nothing. Then again, she would never let him do that. Even with Terrier, she couldn’t and wouldn’t admit her weakness. It was harder to be strong when there was no one around to prove oneself to, though.
As she waded through the disgusting water, she decided to head for the Bora mountains once she got across. There might still be people living there if Afana’s raiders hadn’t killed them, captured them, or driven them off.
Ryder never went on those raids. The idea of ripping a child away from its parents sickened her. She would make Afana pay for that, as well as all the greasy rats who did his dirty work for him. She’d bring final justice to everyone in the metal coffin she’d grown up in.
Walking through the swamp was taking its toll on her already exhausted body. She took a different path than before, making sure she didn’t get swept away. Still, she was tiring quickly and wished she’d packed some food.
She gulped down some water from her flask, drinking more than she should because Terrier wasn’t there to stop her. It was nice to finally quench her thirst, though she knew she’d pay for it later.
As soon as the water hit Ryder’s stomach, she felt the effects of it. She had a little buzz and felt calmer and stronger. She also felt the need for more.
Leandro watched the girl as she walked through the marsh. She was breathtaking, even if she was disguised as a boy.
He scanned the landscape and sniffed the air, but he couldn’t see or smell anyone coming after her. If they did, he would attack. In the meantime, he crept slowly after her and eyed her curiously.
Why is she going in that direction?
She was heading toward the mountains. He’d been through those mountains before, searching for answers. The humans and wolves that lived there weren’t nice to one another, and they hunted anything that crossed their paths.
He suspected they wouldn’t treat him well, and the mysterious woman would probably fare no better. Because of this, Leandro crept closer, but he stayed far enough away to remain out of sight.
If she’d gone in the other direction, it would have been so much easier. It would take her to Leandro’s home. He had a feeling this woman didn’t do anything the easy way, though.
She must have come from the bunker. Leandro had always stayed away from the bunker and the forest because there were always too many hunters around, and he didn’t like the idea of getting spit-roasted for dinner. No, thank you, Leandro thought. No fucking way.
He’d only ever seen men in the woods, though, never women. Then, it clicked. She had pretended to be a man so she could get out of the bunker. If that was the case, then she was out here without permission. That meant those savages from the bunker would probably be after her. This mysterious woman might be in more danger than he thought.
He decided to follow her until she was safe.
8
Terrier couldn’t stall anymore. The bunker was in front of them. Tank and Knuckles, the guards on duty, stood in front of the entrance.
Tank was tough like Sergei. His neck looked like a tree trunk, and his nose was misshapen from the punches he’d taken. He had been given the name “Tank” by his mom, but the other men in the bunker thought it was because he was built like one. Tanks didn’t exist anymore, but they’d all seen pictures. The name fit him perfectly.
He never stopped fighting, no matter how badly he was hurt. If Tank didn’t win a fight, he’d sneak into your bunk when you were sleeping and finish you off.
Madness Unleashed: Age Of Madness - A Kurtherian Gambit Series (Live Free Or Die Book 1) Page 5
