Bullets Will Work: A Vampire Slayer Novel

by Geoffrey C Porter

  Simon moved into a crouched fighting stance. "Stop it."

  "Stop what?"

  "You could break my bones the way you're hitting me!"

  "If there's no pain, how will you learn?" I asked.

  He glared at me in the worst way.

  I said, "Bones heal."

  "Not if a bone shard splits off and pierces the heart or becomes lodged in the brain!"

  "You could do permanent nerve damage when you hit me on the neck as hard as you hit."

  "No."

  "Yes."

  Simon frowned and looked away from me. "Perhaps."

  I started circling him to my right as if preparing for my next attack. He said, "No!"

  I paused in my tracks. "I thought you wanted to practice."

  Simon gave me a stern look. "We need to come to an understanding first."

  "An understanding?"

  "We don't strike to the eyes or throat. We don't break bones."

  "Agreed."

  He charged me and did his best to hit me. And he did a few times, but the tone of the hits changed. Sharp jabbing pain was replaced by mild jabbing pain. I hit him a few times in turn.

  After a few hours, Simon said, "Let's break."

  I grunted. I don’t usually grunt, but I figured it’s as good a way of communicating as anything else.

  "What's for dinner?" Simon asked.

  "You like my cooking?"

  "You burn most everything, and you add way too much spice."

  "That doesn't answer my question."

  "I love your cooking," Simon said. "It's like nothing I've ever had before."

  I tried throwing my practice sword at the rack, and it bounced back hitting Simon in the legs. "I've been thinking of trying to find a recipe for curry, but I've never made it before."

  "I've never had curry. Just don't make it so hot that my nose bleeds."

  I looked at him. "You've been getting nose bleeds from my cooking?"

  "Not yet, but you haven't made curry yet either."

  The next day we donned our gear early in the morning and set out with Simon and Lambert carrying bags of explosive charges. The house looked similar to the last one we hit. Simon planted the explosives.

  Manuel said, "Fire in the hole!"

  Then he clicked a remote detonator and boom.

  Simon drew his sword and raced into the house with me hot on his heels. The main room had three vampires, and Simon cut them to pieces. Lambert and Ben met us in the kitchen. Lambert had killed two. Simon opened the door to the basement and hit a light switch.

  He inched down the stairs, and at the landing, we looked around. The basement appeared empty except for a couch and the usual basement items such as furnace and water heater. Then a vampire popped up from behind the couch and pointed an Uzi from his hip at Simon. The machine gun rattled hitting Simon in the chest pushing him back.

  I threw a hard side kick at Simon to knock him out of the path of the bullets, and without even putting my foot down, I plugged the vampire three times in the chest. He fell backward, and the machine gun rattled off rounds into the ceiling.

  Simon gathered himself up. "You saved my life. If you had shot and not kicked me, those bullets would have hit me in the face."

  "Perhaps, Simon. You're very lucky you know. Two nests in a row you've gotten shot right in the chest."

  "I'm not afraid of bullets. I shall have to find a way to repay you."

  "Nonsense, we're a team," I said. "How can you not be afraid of bullets?"

  "A bullet is a quick death. Getting captured is my only fear. They torture slayers for years."

  "The armor is thin around the shoulders, elbows, hips, and knees. You should fear bullets, too."

  "Still, if they capture me, it'll go on for years. A crippling wound would just mean early retirement."

  Across the comm gear, Manuel snapped, "Report!"

  "Just one vampire,” I said. “He had a full auto Uzi."

  Manuel said, "Simon ok?"

  "Yeah, boss," Simon said.

  I said, "He's lucky they can't aim."

  Manuel let out a low, little almost demonic chuckle. "They see the throat exposed, and they can't think straight. The hunger drives them wild."

  We were standing around waiting for the last of the police and paramedics to leave when Simon blurted out, "Sidney saved my life today."

  Manuel said, "Splendid."

  "You shall have to repay him," Ben said as he pulled a tiny chocolate mint out of a pocket, and Manuel grabbed it, tossing it to the ground.

  "Yes," Simon said.

  "It really was no big deal," I said. "Just gut reaction." If I hadn’t done it, I likely would have dreamed about his death over and over.

  Lambert said, "I want to go see Samantha tonight."

  Ben said, "You just saw her yesterday."

  "What the hell does that have to do with anything? I like her. I'll text her when we get back to the warehouse."

  "I'm not against you going to see her," Manuel said. "But you'll find out if she's got any girl friends."

  Lambert nodded.

  As Manuel drove us back to the warehouse, Simon said, "You know they have morning Mass during the week. We could attend. It's a smaller mass with fewer people."

  Ben howled, "We just went to mass yesterday!"

  "Honoring the Sabbath is one thing," Manuel said. "I don't enjoy church that much that I think we should go every day."

  Simon sighed.

  I reached out and grabbed his shoulder and squeezed. "Within a few years you'll likely be running this team, and then you can make the rules."

  "I wasn't thinking we could go every day just once in a while," Simon said.

  "You were hoping for every day," Ben said. "But you'd settle for once in a while."

  Simon tapped his fingers on the window sill of his door.

  Lambert said, "You guys went to church?"

  Simon said, "Yeah."

  Lambert laughed.

  "It was the Sabbath!" Simon shouted.

  "We'll go every Sunday," Manuel said.

  We rode on in silence to the warehouse. Lambert called dibs on the shower as we stepped out of the van, and we stowed our weapons. We sent Lambert off through the tunnel, and I cooked homemade pizza for dinner.

  Chapter 13

  The next morning Manuel's face was half shaved. Typically he wore a tightly trimmed bit of facial hair, but today the left half was clean shaven. I'd never seen anything quite like it, and I stared at it until he looked at me. "What?" He asked.

  "Why?" I said.

  Manuel shrugged. "I lost a bet with Ben."

  I laughed.

  Manuel invited Simon and me to go on their scouting mission. I agreed of course. We decked out in full gear and side arms. As we left the warehouse, I asked, "What are we looking for?"

  "Peeling paint," Simon said. "Every last window covered completely. Tall grass and weeds. Nice cars, though, vampires seem to be able to afford new cars."

  "We rely heavily on the aerial thermal photography," Ben said. "We scout mainly, so we don't waste our resources from the air force."

  I said, "Every house has every window boarded up."

  Manuel pointed at a house. "Second-floor windows won't be boarded up if it's a human residence."

  "OK."

  We weaved through street after street driving about ten to fifteen miles an hour. Ben had a notepad with him, and he said, "House number 213. Blue two story house without a basement with a two car garage."

  I looked for the house, and it caught my eye. Every window on the first floor was covered with plywood. The second story windows were all dark as night, and they looked like they might even have been painted over on the inside. The grass was tall, not tall enough to go to seed, but tall enough that it wouldn't be any fun to mow.

  Simon said, "Looks good."

  We drove down more and more residential streets. Manuel seemed to be taking his time. We weren't following a direct route at all. Finall
y Ben said, "House 873. Two story with a basement, white. No garage."

  I looked around until I saw the house. It had peeling paint, tall grass, and a brand new Cadillac parked in front. The windows on the second floor had blankets on the inside to block the light. Simon said, "Another one."

  We drove on. The next house we looked at was as derelict as the first two. The fourth house had simple Venetian blinds in the second story windows, and Ben checked it off our list. Manuel drove on meandering through the residential sections. I looked at a lot of houses, and a lot of houses were derelict.

  Finally curiosity got the better of me, and I asked, "Why are we driving almost in circles? Couldn't we just go directly from one house to the next."

  Manuel said, "We've found this method works best."

  "Sometimes they will leave a guard on duty watching for us," Ben said. "Sometimes we've hit empty nests. We don't want to give away which house we're going to hit, so we look at hundreds of houses and select a small number to photograph at night."

  I said, "Fair enough."

  Simon asked, "What's for lunch?"

  "I have macaroni & cheese and some ground beef."

  Ben said, "We haven't had steak in ages."

  "We haven't had egg rolls in ages either," Manuel said.

  "We're out. We could go to the store," I said. "I could whip up some stir fry or grill some steaks. Figure out what you guys want."

  "Stir fry," Simon said.

  "Agreed," Ben said.

  Manuel said, "Egg rolls."

  I smiled.

  We stopped at the store, and I shopped for all the goodies for kung pao and egg rolls. The meal turned out pretty good, and Simon wanted to practice after lunch.

  "Ben, are you going to practice with them," Manuel said. "Or are you going to run the stairs?"

  "I've been losing weight! My armor is almost loose!" Ben said.

  "If you wanted to practice with them, I would practice too. We could give Simon a real workout."

  Simon's eyes lit up like a child's with a shiny new toy. "I've been getting a good workout with Sidney, but I'd be very pleased to face the three of you."

  "I've never been one of the three in the three vs. one," I said.

  "It's not a great work out," Ben said. "You have to pay attention and freeze when you're supposed to. Unless of course, the bastard kicks you in the knee, and you fall down."

  Manuel laughed.

  I said, "I didn't mean to hurt you."

  Simon pointed at my chest with his index finger. "It doesn't surprise me that you'd kick somebody in the knee."

  "What's that supposed to mean?"

  "Just what I said."

  Manuel said, "Three seconds or six seconds?"

  Simon smiled. "I'm used to doing it in three seconds."

  I said, "You had to do it more than once?"

  Ben said, "Very likely."

  "Huh?"

  "When the church trains a slayer, we start them at a young age," Manuel said. "They'll often pass the final test long before they reach an appropriate age to start slaying. Simon likely had to wait months if not years after he passed the test the first time."

  Simon said, "Year and a half."

  "You spent a year and a half sparing three opponents after you passed the test," I said.

  "Yes."

  "The church's methods are very effective," Manuel said.

  I said, "I thought I was a patient man."

  "You aren't," Ben said. "Look at the way you cook."

  "What are you talking about?"

  "You cook everything on high heat," Manuel said. "It doesn't matter what it is."

  "When I bake I use the thermostat."

  Manuel smiled and nodded.

  "Speaking of baking," Ben said. "You could make brownies today."

  "You wouldn't get to eat any of them," Manuel said.

  Ben whimpered like a four-year-old boy who just found out his only uncle is a smoker.

  "Shall we?" Simon asked.

  Manuel said, "Let's."

  We assembled in the basement. Manuel looked at me and said, "Try and stay to my left. Don't forget to freeze when he hits you: count slow, one-one thousand, two-one thousand, three-one thousand."

  Simon looked from Ben to Manuel to me. "Can I start?"

  "Begin."

  Simon charged me like lighting aiming his sword point right for my left eye. I committed to blocking it as I like my eyes, and he flipped the sword downward slashing across my chest. I froze and started counting. Simon turned on Manuel and aimed for his stomach faster than I had ever seen him move. Manuel tried to block it, but he was too slow, and the sword etched across his stomach and up into his chest.

  Then Simon turned on Ben and smiled. Simon aimed for the side of Ben's head and then turned the sword down and caught him right on the neck. Simon took a few steps back and waited.

  I finished counting and went on the offensive. He blocked my first strike then he promptly whacked me on the leg. I forgot to freeze and tried to stab at him again. He blocked my strike and hit me hard upside the head.

  It made me pause, and I remembered about freezing, so I started counting. He slashed Manuel on the arm next. Then he planted his sword point on Ben's chest. Again Simon stepped back away from us while we counted.

  "You've just been toying with me when we sparred," I said.

  Simon shrugged his shoulders. "Perhaps. I knew you weren't trained by the church."

  "How'd you know?"

  "You're too old. What are you thirty?"

  "I'm twenty-five!"

  "Slayers retire wealthy at twenty-one," Simon said.

  "Enough jibber-jabber!" Manuel exclaimed. "We're not finished!"

  Simon rushed us, and we did our best. Simon was good; maybe even as good or better than Lambert. By the end of the afternoon, Simon was covered in sweat, and I had a few new bruises. Ben shouted, "Enough! I'm hungry!"

  Manuel said, "You're always hungry."

  "It's almost dinner time," Simon said. "Can we practice again tonight?"

  Ben said, "No!"

  Simon sighed.

  "We don't practice very much," Manuel said. "We try and hit a nest every three to four days, and that keeps us sharp."

  "I don't even use my sword," Ben said. "I'm a gunner."

  Simon said, "You'd rather run the stairs?"

  "Yes!"

  Manuel said, "Then you'll hit the stairs tonight?"

  Ben whimpered and started to weep.

  I grilled bar-b-q chicken that night for dinner. Simon still wanted to spar, so I worked out with him. I kicked him a lot. He deserved it; he did.

  Two days later Lambert returned with a wide grin on his face. Manuel spoke first, "Does she have any friends?"

  Lambert said, "Yeah."

  Ben said, "Really?"

  "Girls?" I asked.

  Lambert laughed this strong, high-pitched cackle. "Not exactly. She says she doesn't like girls. She thinks they're all lying backstabbers."

  "Then what do you mean she has friends?" Simon asked.

  "She has boys she knows that she's fairly certain that they're gay. So if you want to get laid, she can likely get you laid."

  Simon shuddered violently. "That's against everything the church stands for, and it's gross."

  Manuel said, "I'm not that desperate yet."

  "I won't be that desperate unless I lose both my hands," Ben said.

  Lambert said, "You've thought about it then?"

  "Fuck you."

  I said, "So, what did you guys do this time?"

  "We listened to a lot of music," Lambert said as he got this dreamy glazed look in his eyes. "You wouldn't believe the music collection she has. She's got cassette tapes of stuff you can't get anywhere. Bootleg tapes of live bands: they're phenomenal. There's this one band, I forget their name, but they would play instrumental stuff in the middle of a live concert. You can tell they didn't rehearse they just made the stuff up as they went, and it's perfect. She said the
y called it, 'space.'"

  Simon asked, "What's a cassette tape?"

  "At first I thought they were some new format, but they're old. It's a cartridge kind of thing with two wheels in it with magnetic tape wrapped around the wheels."

  "Well, I hope you're well rested," Manuel said. "We're hitting a nest tomorrow."

  "I'm not well rested, but I can handle hitting a nest after a full night’s sleep."

  Chapter 14

  It was my turn to plant the shape charges. I had never really been fascinated by explosives. I didn't understand them, and I was content with that. Manuel gave the "GO" command, and I ducked down low and scurried up to the house.

  I pulled the first charge out of the bag and peeled the wax paper off the adhesive. Pressed the charge on the door just below the knob, and it stuck in place. I paused listening. Heard nothing but the wind rustling the leaves in the trees. I pulled the second charge and planted it above the door knob. I hit the arm switch on both charges and scurried back to the cover of the cars in the street.

  Manuel barked, "Fire in the hole!"

  He clicked the detonator and boom!

  Simon raced into the house with me right on his heels, and Manuel followed close behind. A shotgun blast hit Simon in the chest and knocked him back out of the house. I blasted round after round through the doorway and dodged inside ahead of Simon.

  Three vampires faced me, and I shot the one with the shotgun first then the other two. Simon joined me, and he took the lead into the next room. A vampire lunged at him with teeth barred, and Simon lopped his head clean off.

  Simon and I headed downstairs to the dark basement. A boom thundered on my right, and a bullet slammed into my right arm. I turned to the right, and a muzzle flashed. Another bullet hit me on the right side of my chest. I plugged away at the muzzle flash, and a figure dropped to the ground.

  I turned to look for Simon, and his blade flashed in the darkness cutting into a vampire. A terrible stench began to burrow into my tender nostrils. I covered my nose and saw a lamp. I clicked the light on and looked around. The basement was full of desiccated bodies. Simon puked on the floor.

  I grimaced and looked around for any more vampires. Nothing moved in the dim light, and I followed Simon upstairs to get some fresh air. Simon pointed at the bullets stuck in my armor. "It's about time they started shooting you."