The Glass Vampire

by David Page

  “Shoot Montesquieu, damn you!” Frederick roared.

  “Do it!” Ray seconded.

  Muzzles flashes caused Richard’s night-vision goggles to blank out for a moment.

  Montesquieu bellowed in pain.

  As Richard’s vision cleared, he realized the vampire was gone. Several men cried out from the empty windows on the far side of the room drawing his attention. He turned to look and was blinded again by another volley of automatic weapons fire. The popping, tearing sounds of men being ripped limb from limb mingled with the screams of the dying, echoing through the room, chilling him to the bone. The sound of a vampire lapping someone’s blood reached his ears. He hoped that Montesquieu was drinking from Frederick, but did not hold his breath.

  A hand grasped his shoulder and as his vision cleared. Relief flooded through him as he realized it was Beth.

  “Let’s get the hell out of here!” she hissed.

  “Don’t let them escape!” Frederick yelled. Back on his feet near the center of the room, he swung his cane towards them.

  Richard grabbed Beth and yanked her off balance, pulling her onto him as he flattened back on the ground. Frederick’s cane fired a single shot. The bullet whizzed past, missing them both.

  More screams filled the darkness. Muzzles flashed and the sounds of booted feet hitting the cement echoed around them. One man sobbed uncontrollably. Beth’s body pressed against him for an instant, filling him with warmth. Lilac enveloped his senses.

  “Run, Richard,” Colette said in the darkness.

  Richard blinked at the sound of her voice.

  Beth rolled off him and grabbed his hand. “Come on!”

  “What about Ray?” He visually searched the room, frantically trying to find him. More guns fired, their cacophony making it difficult to hear and impossible to see. Richard pulled the goggles off his head. They were a handicap at this point.

  “Forget him, he screwed us over.” Beth crawling towards the doorway through which they had entered.

  “Help me!” a man gurgled as if choking on blood and was then silent.

  Another volley of gunshots followed. In the light of these flashes, Richard saw Ray knock over the desk and dive behind it. His goggles were still on, meaning he was probably having a difficult time seeing. He had somehow ended up on the far side of the room from them.

  “Use your holy water!” Frederick barked.

  “Ray!” Richard yelled.

  There was no answer.

  Beth pulled Richard down into a crouch and then scrambled towards the opening. The next muzzle flashes allowed Richard to see that only half of Frederick’s and Ray’s men were still on their feet. The rest lay dead or dying on the floor. One of the agents turned a pistol towards Richard.

  Richard fired first, not wanting to hit the man, but knowing that the gunfire would interfere with his vision.

  “He’s got Brian by the throat!” Another man cried near the far corner.

  A pure silvery light flared to life in the middle of the room, its radiance burning so bright that Richard had to turn away from it or risk having his face singed by the energy. He risked a glance out of the corner of his eye and saw Frederick standing with a silver cross in his hand. The power radiated from the religious symbol, shining brilliantly around him in a 360-degree circle. God had spoken through the hand of Richard’s enemy.

  Montesquieu released the half dead soldier who dropped to the floor in a pool of his own blood. The creature held up its arms in front of its face, hissed, and backed away. Unlike its appearance moments ago, its face appeared full and its limbs less skeletal. His mangled hair had fallen away to be replaced by a head of red curls and his fingernails had shrunk to near normal size. If not for the angry red glow of his eyes, he would have seemed almost human.

  Richard blinked against the energy. God did not exist, therefore the power had to come from some place within Frederick himself. He tried to lower his hand, but the light hurt too much and he failed. Wherever this power came from, it was pure and undiluted by evil. Richard could not make sense of it, but it did present him with an opportunity to see.

  A half dozen bodies lay strewn about the place, some draped over the windowless sills of the old storefront, others scattered about the floor along with and many discarded M-16’s and pistols. Blood was everywhere, including on Montesquieu himself. Off to the right, Ray crouched behind the overturned desk along with two of his own men. They rose over the top and aimed their guns at Montesquieu.

  “In the name of GOD, I command you to stop!” Frederick yelled, advancing a step towards the insane vampire, taking care that he was not in the line of fire.

  Richard staggered back a step into the entrance to one of the other tunnels as he tried to resist the righteous wrath of his nemesis. There was no GOD! And even if there was, it made no sense that someone like Frederick could channel him.

  “Kill it!” Frederick ordered.

  The men had already torn off their night vision goggles; they took aim at the creature.

  “Come on,” Beth whispered. She squeezed his arm once and then darted through the opening.

  Richard hesitated for a second, his blood hammering in his ears as the men started shooting Montesquieu, and then hurried after her.

  Beth led him to the left and into a passage he had never traversed.

  “They’re getting away!” one of the men called from behind them.

  “Richard!” Ray yelled, his voice drowned by the increasingly distant gunfire.

  Several shots ricocheted off the brickwork next to Richard’s head. “They are coming!” He followed her around the corner.

  “I know!” She sprinted to the right down another tunnel. As they left the illumination cast by Frederick’s cross behind them, she pulled out a small penlight. After a few minutes, she stopped in front of another ladder. She leapt onto the rungs from a few paces away and climbed to the top.

  Richard followed after her. Halfway up, a feeling of dread overcame him.

  “What is it?” she asked, pressing her back into a manhole cover.

  “The dawn is coming.”

  32

  The manhole cover gave. Beth let it flip over with a clang and scurried up and out of the tunnel. Richard followed and found himself in the middle of First Avenue South, a half a block south of the original entrance to the Underground Tour. Fortunately, there were no cars coming. A squad car, however, stood only a few yards away, blocking the street. A dozen police officers stood beyond that, looking away from them, towards the underground entrance where three large SWAT vans had parked on the sidewalk. The officers ran towards the entrance, frantically drawing their guns, leaving the car unwatched.

  “Looks like they’ve gone to help Frederick!” Beth hissed. “Now’s our chance!”

  She ran for the car and found the engine idling. She threw open the driver’s door and pointed. “Go!”

  Richard dove into the front seat and slid across the bench to the passenger side. Beth followed him an instant later, slammed the car into drive and hit the gas. The tires screeched and the car lurched forward. Several of the officers turned towards them, but it was too late. Beth guided the car onto Jackson and out of sight.

  The worn cement pillars of the colossal viaduct loomed a hundred feet above them like great towers protecting the waterfront. Richard could not see the top level of the double-decker highway, but the headlights of cars on the lower portion were clearly visible. Beyond that frightening highway, a large gray warehouse stretched out onto a long pier over the dark waters of Elliot Bay. White caps stood out in sharp contrast as heavy winds whipped across Puget Sound. Looking up, Richard saw that for once, clear skies had pushed away the clouds. The sun would shine brightly this day. His gut twisted and he swallowed, knowing that the end was near.

  Beth swerved around a small SUV, and then passed into the dark shadows beneath the viaduct. Richard glanced upward up nervously. The vast expanse of cement was pitted and in several places huge c
hunks had fallen away leaving great gashes in the symmetry and cohesion of the structure. Water dripped down from unseen holes, despite the fact that the rain had stopped hours ago. It reminded him of an ancient Roman Aqueduct he had once seen near Constantinople. Some Turks had been using it to hide archers for an ambush. They had killed several his men before he had even realized what was happening. Richard sighed. His enemies were not hiding in the darkness above this time, but out in the open with the power of the law behind them.

  The radio crackled. “This is Special Agent Frederick Cortez. All available units are to converge on Seattle Police-car number 45. It was last seen heading west on Jackson.”

  “Shit. This car probably has a locate-jack!” Beth swerved around a pick-up truck by going into the oncoming traffic lane. “I think I screwed up.”

  A small black sedan pulled over to the side of the road narrowly avoiding them as they sped past. They emerged from the other side unscathed, however, and Beth pulled the wheel to the right. The car careened onto Alaska Way and they headed north, paralleling the piers and warehouses of Seattle’s waterfront.

  Richard knew what he had to do. “Stop the car. I will continue without you and draw their attention away.” Stealing a police car was not something a person could get away with, regardless of a tracking device.

  Beth frantically shook her head. “No way.” She gripped the steering wheel as if it were a life preserver.

  “Damn it, Beth! I am going to die today. Nothing can stop that now. Even if Montesquieu lives, he fed off some of Frederick’s soldiers and is therefore infected by the Department virus. He is useless to me.”

  “We can find others. If Montesquieu was number 21, then there must be at least twenty others.”

  The car hit a large puddle, throwing a torrent of murky water onto the windshield.

  “Beth.” Richard spoke in a calm tone. “There is no more time.”

  “What about Colette? She’s influenced me since I was a child to care what happens to the both of you. I can’t give up on her and because of her, I can’t give up on you!” Her dust-covered cheeks flushed. “We’ve come so far.” The engine revved as it downshifted.

  “Find her for me, Beth. Do whatever it takes to free her.” Richard felt a lump in his throat. Beth was now Colette’s only chance. His plans had failed.

  “This is car 19. We’ve got them heading North on the Alaskan Way,” a voice on the radio said, interrupting his thoughts.

  “No.” Beth turned right as the road veered sharply and headed up the steep hill towards the north side of downtown.

  “You know I am right.” Richard reached over and touched her arm.

  “Roger that, all units switch to alternate frequency.” Then the radio went dead.

  “We won’t be able to listen to them now,” she said, focusing her eyes on the road ahead.

  “You are changing the subject.”

  She hit the gas harder throwing him back into the seat. The car shook as they went over some railroad tracks. Richard banged his head on the ceiling.

  “Ouch!”

  “Sorry.” She looked over at him for a second and her eyes brightened. “You don’t know what happened with Colette and Percival, do you?”

  He shook his head. “No, but there is no time.”

  “Then what if there is another way? What if it wasn’t Percival’s blood that saved Colette?” Her eyes blazed with intensity.

  “The dawn will be here in a less than twenty minutes. What can I learn in that time that will help us?”

  Several police cars appeared behind them, sirens blaring, lights flashing. As they sped up the hill towards Western Avenue, Richard spotted police barricades and additional vehicles blocking the side streets. Officers stood behind each of them with guns drawn, but took no action. The path in front of them remained open.

  “They’re funneling us,” he noted.

  “Yeah, towards the Space Needle. It’s a wide open space and there won’t be any people there this time of day,” Beth agreed. “No way for you to drop me off now. You know they’re going to shoot us, right?” Her eyes teared suddenly.

  Richard thought it and a spark of determination opened within him fueling his defiance of all that had befallen him. He held out his hand.

  “Give me the cross.”

  Beth tore it from its chain and placed it in his hand.

  The cross blazed, charring the flesh of his palm, but he held fast. “Colette! Help me!”

  The dizziness came wrapped in the pain of his injuries. The blackness of the past took him.

  ***

  “Richard.” Colette’s voice sounded like dry leaves rustling.

  Behind him, the hovel’s shutters and door were closed tight against the night. Whereas Colette had used the power of her mind to ignite all dozen candles before, now only one burned. Its meager light was still enough for Richard to see her.

  “Dear God,” he gasped.

  Her skin was stretched tight, like old parchment, against her sinewy muscle and the bones beneath. She spoke to him through lips so cracked that he was amazed any sound could pass through them at all. Despite her condition, her beautiful green eyes still blazed with a will to survive. Surprise and relief were written there. She had clearly thought Percival would kill him.

  “Colette!” He dropped his pack and ran to her side, knelt at her side and took one of her bony hands in his. Some of her skin flaked away and he had to fight against the revulsion he felt.

  The air grew cold. A breeze blew through the hovel, despite the shutters being closed. Looking back, Richard saw a mist pouring under the door and rolling across the room until it covered the entire floor. A strong hand clamped onto the back of his neck, pulling him back and lifting him upright.

  “What?” Richard instinctively reached for his sword, but a second hand snaked out to catch his wrist.

  “Stop!” The man commanded, spinning him around and bringing them face-to-face.

  A small relief settled in him as he recognized that dark eyed gaze, those youthful features, and dark countenance.

  “Percival,” he whispered, hope blossoming in his heart at the appearance of the ancient warrior.

  Percival frowned and pushed Richard to the side. “Do not interfere.” He whirled to face Colette, his robe spinning around him as if it had a life of its own.

  The candles flared to life so brightly that Richard had to raise his hand to shield his eyes. As he adjusted to the light, he saw Percival leaning over Colette. The demon brushed some wispy hair out of her face with the back of one hand.

  Colette nodded, as if some form of unspoken communication had passed between them. Percival pulled back the sleeve on his right arm and, using his left hand, he sliced a gash in his wrist. He turned flaming red eyes on Richard, in one final warning for him to remain silent.

  Richard’s eyes widened, but something told him he should follow Percival’s advice. He bit his lip and looked on.

  Percival turned back to his charge. Blood welled up in the wound on his arm. He held it over her mouth and allowed a single drop to touch her lips. Colette snarled like a wild animal, sat bolt upright and clamped onto his wound with her mouth. She drank.

  Richard’s shivered at the sight of her corpse-like form drinking from Percival’s veins. When she had fed on him, there had been a sweet innocence about it as love was exchanged between two souls, but this was pure animal savagery.

  Percival grabbed the back of her neck and gently pulled her off. She gnashed her fangs at him, her leathery skin cracking and peeling on the sides of her blood smeared mouth. Her eyes burned as red as his as she glared at him. She swiped at him with her claw-like hands, but he easily held her at bay.

  Percival batted her arms aside, gripped her head in his hands and stared into her eyes.

  Richard gripped his sword and took a step forwards.

  “Stop!” Percival ordered.

  Richard halted, unable to move. “What’s happening?” Richard struggled aga
inst the invisible bonds.

  Percival straightened and turned slowly towards him. His eyes had returned to their normal dark brown. “Nothing is happening yet, mortal.” He bared his fangs. “We must wait.”

  Richard opened his mouth to reply, but said nothing as he noticed that the wound on the demon’s arm had already closed. Again, the power of these creatures awed him.

  “I understand. Now release me.” He spoke in calm measured tones.

  Percival regarded him for a moment. “Very well.” He waved his hand casually.

  Richard lurched a half step forward before stopping himself. He glared at the demon but said nothing.

  “Remember our agreement, Richard Saxon.”

  Richard swallowed. The idea of having the life drained from him by this creature was not appealing, but he had had little choice in agreeing to their bargain.

  “I will honor my word.”

  “Colette chose well in you.” Percival offered him a slight smile as if somehow, he found amusement there.

  Scorching pain in his hand diverted his attention.

  “Richard!”

  ***

  “Richard!” Beth shouted his name. “We’ve got problems!”

  He opened his eyes and dropped the searing cross onto the seat. He shook his hand and looked at the charred imprint the holy symbol had left behind. After all he had done to try to pay for his past crimes, God, the universe, or whatever, was still angry with him it seemed.

  “What did you see?” Beth jammed the wheel to the right and the car swerved to avoid an early morning cyclist.

  Richard’s face nearly smashed against the side window with her maneuver. He regained his balance and looked out. They were still heading up the hill and had just reached the intersection of First Avenue. The squat glass buildings at the intersection of First Avenue and Alaska Way loomed above them shimmering sentinels reflecting the lights of the city and the blue flashing lights of the squad cars ahead of them. Richard frowned. The police had blocked the North and South access to First Ave, locking them into a straight course. The officers crouched behind their vehicles, ready and waiting, but held their fire.