by David Page
After another minute, the hallway widened. Beth stopped as they neared an intersection of four passages. Richard recognized it from their trips to the lab. He tensed. They were very close. As if that thought had triggered something within him, he suddenly felt as if he were being watched. The sense of dread that he had experienced each time he had passed through the old storefront returned, twisting his gut in a vice of fear.
Beth turned towards him and Richard thought her protruding night vision goggles made her look like a bug. He smiled despite himself.
“What?”
“It is nothing.” Richard sobered.
“Can you sense the vamp or not?” she asked.
“He is near.” Richard’s skin itched as if electricity washed over his body.
She nodded. “It’s just around the next corner. So far, I can’t hear anything and the lights for the tour are all out.” She pointed to the left and Richard noticed the string of unlit bulbs.
“You should remain here,” Richard suggested. “We may not be alone and might require some back up. I can unearth the vampire myself.”
“Maybe.” Her brows furrowed. “But not here. Come on.” She led them around the corner.
Richard recognized the old store windows on the left wall. A yellow band of police tape blocked the entrance.
Beth paused before the first window, sidled up to it and then peered through.
“It’s clear.” She pulled back and motioned to Richard. “Go.”
Richard nodded and darted past the window and through the tape. The second he crossed the threshold a feeling of death and despair crashed over him, sending chills through his body and making the hair on the back of his neck stand up. Beneath his shield, his powers churned in response. The vampire was very close now.
“It’s cold.” Beth hissed from across the room.
“Yes, it was not this bad before.” Richard tilted his head to one side. “I believe that I woke it up.”
“What do you mean woke it up?”
“When I had my flash of power in the lab, my mind connected with the other vampire. I woke it up. It had been sleeping for a very long time and now it is desperate to escape its prison before it loses consciousness again.” He had also felt the evil coming from the creature’s twisted mind. Whoever was buried there had been put in the ground as some sort of punishment. Normally, he would have found that appalling, but having touched the other’s mind, he felt it was justified. He swallowed. And they were about to set it free.
Beth broke cover and strode across the room. She peaked out the other side of the door for a moment and then pulled back inside to rejoin Richard in the center.
“It’s all clear as far as I can tell. So where is this guy?”
Richard adjusted the goggle straps and closed his eyes for a moment. It was hard to sense anything without his powers, but being this close to the other vampire, he had a good idea of where the palpable sense of dread originated. He pointed to the uneven cement floor beneath the old wooden desk a few feet away.
“We are nearly on top of him.” Richard swallowed. “You should return to your position.”
“Right.” Beth returned to the shadows of the entrance.
Richard felt the sun creeping across the land even as the dread over their task filled him. He holstered his weapon and then pulled the desk out of the way. This done, he lifted the hammer above his head. He brought the hammer down hard, cracking the pavement and sending several large chunks of cement skittering across the floor. He swung his hammer again with equal vigor. The pavement chipped and the ground shuddered.
He struck again. There was a loud sucking sound as if a vacuum seal had been breached, and a small hole appeared into what was clearly an open area beneath.
“I didn’t expect that.” He took a step back to look at their handy work and suddenly felt nauseous. It increased in intensity causing him to double over, one hand clutching his stomach.
“You okay?” Beth asked.
“I feel ill.” He struggled with the words as his stomach turned over and over.
“Richard?”
The feeling passed and the pain in his stomach subsided. He straightened. “It is better now.”
“What happened?” Beth’s disembodied voice asked on the stale air.
“I can only assume that the close proximity to this other vampire is the cause.” The creature was indeed powerful to affect him so. “I will be fine.”
“What now?”
“Whoever sealed him into this prison feared that he might turn into the very mist all vampires are capable of calling. That is why they had a perfect seal. Whoever he is, his power is great.” Richard had not been able to grab a name from the other’s mind during his flash of power.
“You can’t really do that, can you?” Beth asked. “Turn into mist I mean.”
“Only in myths and motion pictures.” Richard had often wished such power for himself, especially after the Department had thrown him into the camps. He glanced down at the gaping hole and the ball of dread in his gut returned.
“Keep going!” Beth urged. “We’re running out of time!”
“Very well.”
A half a dozen swings later, Richard’s arms burned with fatigue and his elbows ached from the vibrations of the hammer hitting the floor. He took a deep breath, opened, and closed his hands on the handle, lifted it over his head and swung down with all his remaining strength, dropping his center as he did so. The weapon struck true, smashing the remains of the cover into a dozen jagged pieces and revealing the entire opening beneath. He looked down, but even with the night vision goggles he could see little in the darkness.
“We are going to need flashlights.”
“Go ahead,” Beth chimed in from the window. “I’ve got my goggles off.”
He removed his, plunging himself into pitch-blackness.
“Okay, here we go.” Beth’s flashlight was small but effective. It illuminated most of the room, leaving the shadows confined to the corners. She panned it past the three old sewing machines and then crossed the room to aim it down into the hole.
Richard gasped. The coffin that lay within the niche was old and worn. It filled the space so exactly that it was clear the hole had been made for it specifically. It was wrapped in silver chains fastened to a giant padlock. Four large, silver crosses had been fitted into the wood of the cover. In the center, two iron numbers read ‘21.’ Richard had no idea what the number meant, but the purpose of the silver chains and the crosses was obvious. They would prevent any vampire, no matter how powerful, from escaping. A shiver went up his spine. The Inquisition had buried him in such a way, long ago. Fortunately, he had had human servants to rescue him, but he had still been in the ground for nearly a year. He remembered the despair, the consuming hunger and the darkness that had eventually engulfed him.
He crept closer, fear churning the acid in his stomach. Whoever was down there had a soul so corrupt and foul that it radiated tendrils of wispy darkness through the floor. Attempting to drink from such a vessel suddenly seemed less appealing as he realized the dangers involved. If it got free, it might kill them both before they could even react.
A loud thump echoed through the room as the creature pounded against the coffin’s lid from the inside. Richard jumped back and dropped his hammer. It clattered to the ground, but he barely noticed.
“Shit!” Beth’s light wavered as she hurried away from the hole. She aimed her gun towards it.
An instant later, a screeching, similar to the sound of a rusted iron-gate opening tore through the silence. Richard retreated a step and tripped, falling onto his rear end. Surging energy ripped through him as the creature pushed its will outwards and even with the shield in place, he shook from the onslaught. It wanted them to release it and it was using its power to force them to do it.
Beth’s expression went slack. She lowered her gun and started towards the hole.
“Beth! Stop!” Richard ordered, pulling himself to h
is feet. “If you open that lock, there will be nothing to keep the vampire inside! He will kill us!”
She continued forward as if she had not heard, slowly pointed her gun towards the huge padlock on the coffin.
Richard dove at her, catching her around the waist just as she squeezed the trigger. The explosion that propelled the bullet out of the gun blasted through the quiet, drowning out the screams of the vampire for an instant. The bullet ricocheted off the cement next to the hole and slammed into the far wall. They crashed to the ground in a heap. Beth rolled over and tried to get back up, but Richard managed to yank the weapon from her hand. He slapped her across the face.
Her head turned with the blow and she stopped struggling. She shook his head. “What the hell did you do that for?” She looked around. “What are we doing on the floor?”
“The vampire had you in its grasp. It tried to get you to set it free by shooting the padlock.” Richard stood up and offered her his hand.
She eyed him suspiciously for an instant, and then her expression softened. She took the proffered hand and allowed him to pull her to her feet.
“Thanks.” She blushed. “Well, that’s pretty embarrassing.”
“Do not feel badly.” Richard offered a small comfort.
“Can I have my gun back?” She held out her hand.
Richard frowned. “The vampire may try to take over again. It is generally easier to do the second time.”
“I can handle it. Don’t leave me defenseless!” She insisted.
Richard doubted that she would be able to resist. There were very few who could. If he had had his powers he might have been able to shield her from the other vampire’s influence, but short of that, there was little he could do.
Beth’s frown reversed into a smile. “Wait, I’ve got this.” She produced a vial from her front pocket.
Richard recognized the greenish liquid as the substance that agents had once taken in the pre-Announcement days to ward off the effects of a vampire’s mental influence.
“Where did you acquire that?” Richard tensed, wondering suddenly if this had all been an elaborate hoax perpetrated by Frederick.
“Jack was nice enough to find some for us. After that, Nash was able to synthesize it. He wanted an edge in case we really did free your race.”
“I see.” The approaching dawn jarred him. “We are running out of time. The dawn will be here in less than forty-five minutes.”
“Then I would say you have a problem.”
At the sound of Frederick’s voice, Richard swung around and aimed his gun towards the opposite doorway. Next to him, Beth’s weapon was similarly sighted.
31
Frederick stood framed in the other doorway, leaning on his cane. As usual, his long hair was tied back in a ponytail and his signature overcoat draped around him. In his left hand, he held a small flashlight.
“You do not want to shoot me.” He flashed that half twisted, arrogant smile that so infuriated Richard. “My men have you surrounded.”
He motioned with his cane and blinding lights hit them from several directions. The clicking sounds of rifles being cocked and rounds being chambered filled the room. Richard squinted against the light, bringing up his free hand to shield his eyes. As he adjusted, he realized that four, M-16 wielding soldiers as well as members of Seattle S.W.A.T. stood in each window. He did not need to turn around to know that they were behind him as well, though he had no idea how they had outflanked them. Apparently, Beth was not the only one who had an intimate knowledge of the tunnel systems.
“How did you find us?” Beth held her gun steady.
“I had to tell them.” Ray stepped into view next to Frederick. “You didn’t leave me with any other options.”
Richard frowned as disappointment and anger swirled within him.
“How could you do this to us?” Beth demanded.
“You threw me out of a truck!”
“At five miles an hour!” Beth argued. “You know what’s going to happen now!”
“I have given the Seattle police assurances that Richard will receive the antidote and be left in their custody,” Frederick interrupted. “And as you can see, they have sent representatives to make certain of that. You can both relax.”
“The presence of police along with the Department forces is not unusual. It means nothing.” Richard countered.
“Not this time,” Ray answered. “We’ve got a court order that trumps the Department.”
“Our role is strictly one of support in this,” Frederick agreed.
“And if you do arrest us, what becomes of Beth?” Richard asked, trying to buy some time. He knew that Frederick would never honor the promises he had apparently made to the police, regardless of any court order.
“The fact that she’s the inventor of Radovan is no longer relevant. It was Nash and his organization we were really after. I give you my word, she will not be harmed in any way.”
“Listen to him, Richard,” Ray said, lowering his gun to his side. “He’s telling you the truth.”
“You’ve done a good job, my old friend.” Frederick chuckled. “Not only did you help us bring down Questor’s operation, but you’ve led us to this.” He motioned to the hole. “I had no idea there was a vampire entombed beneath this floor. Whoever he is, he will be taken into custody now. You’ve done us a service.”
“I am not your friend.” Rage boiled Richard’s blood.
Frederick cleared his throat. “No, I suppose not, but that doesn’t really matter, does it? Whether you wanted to or not, you’ve helped the Department. You’ve helped me.” His smile became more sinister. “Now, I suggest you lower your weapons immediately. Before someone gets hurt.”
Richard gritted his teeth. “I think not.” He raised his gun higher and sighted down his arm.
“A vampire with a gun. It’s so Dirty Harry of you. It’s nice to see you with a backbone again. I was beginning to get very bored with our great game.” Frederick laughed. “Wonderful!”
“Why is this funny?” Ray looked over at Frederick.
“There was a time, when using firearms was considered to be in bad taste by the vampire crowd.” Frederick sobered up. “But enough reminiscing. Drop your weapons… now!”
Richard looked toward the hole, the seeds of an idea coming to him.
Frederick noticed the direction of his gaze. He turned to the hole and his eyes widened. He slowly walked over to the edge. The shrieking tore through room again, reverberating through the tunnels around them. The vampire thumped against the inside of the coffin louder this time. Richard saw the Agent commandos shifting uncomfortably in the windows. The vampire sent out his will again, searching for anyone to control. But nothing happened.
“There it goes again.” Ray’s face was white as a sheet. “That is just unnatural.” He had obviously been watching them along with the agents since they had entered the chamber.
“I’ll be damned.” Frederick gasped.
“That’s the idea.” Beth interrupted.
“Very funny, Miss Bryant. Do you know what this is?” He pointed to the coffin.
“A coffin?”
“Again, with the jokes. Yes, but it is coffin number 21. Most of us in the Department did not think it even existed. It’s the stuff of legend. This is the Department prison for one Claude Montesquieu, buried in a secret location almost a century ago.” His eyes were filled with reverence.
“Claude Montesquieu?” Richard gasped.
“Yes.” Frederick stared at the coffin. “It’s a good thing my men and I are vaccinated against vampire suggestion or he surely would have had us all shooting each other, or at the very least, letting him out of his coffin.” He looked at Beth. “You feel his call, do you not? The serum you just took will take another ten minutes to work.”
She nodded slowly.
Frederick held out his hand. “I suggest you hand me that gun before he claims your mind and takes this pleasant conversation down a path none of us w
ishes it to go.”
Richard barely heard their conversation. He was stunned. Montesquieu was one of the most powerful vampires to have ever walked the earth. In his time, he had killed tens of thousands of people. He had rejected the kinder gentler methods for taking blood and in doing so had endangered all vampires. In fact, vampires had revealed his resting place to the agents who had ultimately captured him. Richard swallowed. If they had let him out, he would have killed them all.
“I don’t feel so good.” Beth’s gun dipped. She clutched her head and dropped to her knees.
Richard could hear the men around them lean into their guns. If she were attempting some kind of ruse, they would shoot. He reached for his power again, thrusting his will deep and with such force that he nearly gasped. He slammed against the wall, finding no breach through which to siphon energy. He glanced at Ray and saw his steely determination. He would offer them no help. Turning back to Beth, he caught her blue-eyed gaze.
She glanced at the hole and then nodded to him ever so slightly. Richard suddenly understood.
“Very-well, Frederick, we surrender.” Richard stepped forward slowly and let his gun dip. At the last instant, he dove to the left and fired straight into the coffin. The bullet hit the lock, shattering the old metal.
Frederick dove to the side as his men opened fire.
A silver bullet tore into Richard’s left arm, knocking him flat on his back and sending a spike of searing pain through him. As he hit the ground, the dressing on his knife wound tore and jolt of pain merged with the fire in his arm. He turned his head and saw Beth fall to the side.
“Hold your fire! Hold your fire!” Ray ordered.
A blood-curdling scream shook the very foundation of the room and the lid to the coffin exploded in a shower of splintered wood and silver metal links. Every light in the room went out.
“Use your goggles! Shoot them! Shoot them all!” Frederick’s voice was steady and in control.
“Wait!” Ray countered him again.
Richard managed to slide his goggles into place just in time to see Montesquieu or what was left of him, leap from the coffin. The tattered remains of his clothing writhed like snakes with his movements. His long hair framed his gaunt face in dark wisps. Claw-like fingernails extended from his hands and his eyes burned red. He looked around the room and sniffed the air like a beast. His gaze settled on Frederick.
