by Dean Murray
"Once I get out, go ahead and slide over into the driver's seat. That way we can get out of here more quickly. If push comes to shove leave me, drive two or three miles down the road and then pull off and kill the car. I'll shift to wolf form and come find you. Don't worry, I'm sure it won't come to that."
Taggart tossed me the keys and then climbed out of the car as he reached for his wallet. I undid my seatbelt and scrambled across to his seat. It wasn't until I was sitting behind the wheel that I realized why Taggart hadn't started pumping yet.
There wasn't a card reader at the pump. I didn't even know that it was possible to have a gas station anymore without a credit card reader at the pump. The urge to hyperventilate was almost overpowering. I would have gotten back into the car and headed back towards the interstate, but Taggart simply pushed the call button and bent forward to speak into it as the speaker crackled to life.
Neither the attendant nor Taggart was loud enough to hear through the windows, but a second later Taggart was sticking the nozzle into our fuel tank and I felt the vibrations of pumping fuel shake the car. It couldn't have taken more than a couple of minutes to fill our tank, but the experience seemed to stretch out into hours.
I was in a cold sweat by the time that Taggart re-racked the dispenser and started towards the store to pay for the gas. I forced a smile across my face and fidgeted with the radio as though changing the station, but the truth was that I was checking my rear and side view mirrors on an almost constant basis.
It was the next best thing to impossible, but somehow I still missed it. One moment I was all by myself and then suddenly there was a tall, pale man standing just outside my car.
He was gaunt—not quite like a starvation victim, but close—and his eyes were a lifeless, dull brown. He was also holding a very big, very black handgun up against the passenger side window.
I slowly moved the keys towards the ignition, but he motioned with his head and the keys were ripped away from me by some kind of invisible force. As I watched, the lock on the passenger door disengaged and the man pulled open the door.
He was a vampire, he had to be a vampire, and I was completely outclassed. If we'd met inside of my dream I might have been able to fend him off, but not here, not in the real world where he was faster and stronger than me.
The vampire slid into the car, still pointing the gun at me, and stuck the keys in the ignition.
"Turn on the car."
"Why, where are you taking me?"
"Just shut up and do it. Don't even think about trying something stupid like you see in the movies. If you try and speed up and wreck us I'll just force the brake and the clutch in."
I turned on the car and double-checked that it was in first gear. "Okay, it's on, what now?"
"Pull around, there's a gravel road behind the service station. Follow it."
It wasn't much of a road. I wasn't sure whether that was a good thing or not. Surely the vampires wouldn't just kill me and dump my body right behind the gas station. If they did this all the time then eventually someone would realize that all the missing people had stopped here before disappearing.
Then again, maybe the police wouldn't be able to figure even that out. There hadn't been a credit card reader outside. If they made people pay with cash then there wouldn't be an electronic trail for the police to follow.
The gravel road ended almost as soon as it began and now we were inside of a kind of miniature gravel pit. It was big enough to hide a semi-truck and trailer, but not much more than that.
"What now?"
"You shut up and wait."
I was terrified, which precluded snapping back at him, but I decided if I survived long enough to fall asleep tonight that I was going to try and pull this vampire into my dreams. Maybe it would be wasted effort, maybe he'd still prove too strong for me to defeat, but if I could I was going to kill him.
I didn't necessarily want to become the weapon that Taggart already said I was, and this didn't change my concerns when it came to fighting the Coun'hij, or anyone else, on nothing more than Taggart's say-so, but this was different. This guy, this vampire, had just kidnapped me and he'd probably killed dozens, maybe even hundreds of people just over the last few years.
Unless proven otherwise, vampires were fair game. Sure, most predators killed to feed, but just because it was their nature didn't make it okay. You don't give a lion a pass when it starts hunting down children, you get a bunch of people with guns together and do your best to kill it before it strikes again.
"Do you have a name?"
"I told you to shut up." There wasn't any of the anger that I would have expected underlying his words, but he more than made up for it by shoving his gun up tight against my temple. The unyielding steel connected hard enough that I knew it was going to leave a bruise, and even worse, I was positive that his finger was still on the trigger.
I was half convinced that I was going to die, but at that moment the ground in front of us started moving. The vampire was obviously expecting it, but it served as enough of a distraction for him to withdraw his gun.
"Pull in there."
'There' proved to be a gigantic underground bunker that was completely undetectable when the garage door, a massive concrete slab whose outside surface had been covered with real live grass, was closed. It was the kind of thing that I'd always thought existed only in novels, but I couldn't argue with my own eyes as I slowly brought the car forward and into the enormous cavern.
There were cars parked along each side, but there wasn't any way to know for sure whether they belonged to the vampires or were vehicles they'd stolen from other travelers. Deeper inside the bunker we came to an open parking spot and my captor waved me into it.
For the briefest of moments I considered waiting until the vampire got out and then trying to back Taggart's car outside, but the vampire reached over and turned off the engine before pocketing the keys. I'd known all along that I didn't have much chance of escaping, but I could feel my options narrowing even more quickly as the vampire opened the passenger door.
"Get out, very slowly."
I complied and then marched, still at gunpoint, even further into the bunker. We passed what looked like a paint booth and a shop area that I figured was used for disassembling some of the cars for sale as parts.
When the screams started up I felt the tears that had been threatening to escape my eyes finally succeed. I probably would have started bawling right then, but the vampire behind me seemed just as disturbed by the screams as I was.
Another man—this one a short, bearded guy with a gut—stepped out of some kind of hallway. He reached up and pushed a large red button mounted on the wall next to the hallway. A second later the massive exterior door started to rumble down.
"What's going on up there, Pete?"
The newcomer shook his head. "I don't know, maybe someone couldn't bring themselves to wait before starting in on the old man."
"Paulo isn't going to like that, there's never as much blood to go around when that happens."
Pete shrugged. "Maybe we should just do the girl right here."
The first vampire casually backhanded Pete. There was enough force behind the blow that the fat man careened off of the wall, but the gun never even shook.
"You're lucky you're so good with cars, Pete. If you were anyone else you'd probably be dead by now. Paulo usually punishes disobedience much more strongly than he's done with you."
My captor's voice had changed slightly. I couldn't tell if it was because he was angry or for some other reason, but he had a faint accent now. I half expected Pete to be angry, but he just shrugged.
"The world isn't much different whether you're a vampire or a human, Benito. The best way to make sure that you don't go hungry is to develop a skill that someone else needs badly enough that they can't afford to treat you like dirt."
"You're not the only decent mechanic out there."
"Sure, but I'm one of the best. Paulo would have t
o look for a long time to replace me and, given how little he makes it out of the bunker these days, he doesn't exactly get much chance to scout out new talent."
I blinked and the gun was gone, replaced by a long, slender knife. Benito was fast, even for a vampire. He got the point of the knife up under Pete's chin and had him backed up against the wall before Pete could back out of his way. I was able to follow what had happened, but there was no way I was going to overpower Benito. Even if I caught him off guard I still had zero chance of taking him out before he killed me.
"You would be well advised to show Paulo more respect. Our fortunes may be on the wane right now, but it's only a matter of time before we move back into one of the cities and Paulo rewards those who supported him in exile. Eventually we'll return to the old land where the real power lies and we'll be made princes."
I was desperately trying to find something in their conversation that I could use against them, but there just wasn't anything there that would allow someone my size to take down or outsmart a century-old vampire.
Pete opened his mouth, probably to say something calming, and then the screaming started back up. This time there couldn't be any doubt but that it wasn't Taggart. There were two voices and they both sounded different than the first one had.
Benito spun around and grabbed me, shoving me into Pete's arms before handing the other vampire the pistol that he'd concealed underneath his shirt.
"Watch the girl. If you feed on her I'll kill you myself."
It took only seconds for Benito to vanish into the near darkness up ahead and then it was just Pete and I standing there in the shop, him with a gun, me with a sinking pit where my stomach should have been.
Taggart was obviously still alive. The first scream had been close enough to his voice that I hadn't been able to tell for sure, but neither of those last screams had been him. That was a good sign, but he was obviously outnumbered and the vampires knew their way around the bunker.
Jackson hadn't proved to be a match for Taggart, but then again Taggart had taken Jackson by surprise. I moved my hand slowly towards a large wrench that was lying on one edge of the workbench behind me, but Pete noticed and waved his gun at me.
"Just because I can't feed on you doesn't mean that I'm going to let you arm yourself. Step away from the workbench."
A new set of screams broke out, and metal struck against metal as someone tried to stop Taggart. A second later some kind of explosion went off. A hot wind swept down the tunnel towards us and it was strong enough to scatter some of the screws sitting on the workbench next to me.
There was a howl which I knew had to be from Taggart, but it wasn't a howl of rage, it was a howl of pain. My fingernails sliced into my palms and I realized for the first time just how tight my fists were. I needed to help him, needed to be more than just another bystander, more than just someone who had to be protected all of the time.
Taggart roared again, this time in anger, and there was a loud crash that seemed like it was just around the corner from us. Pete looked away for a split second; I grabbed the wrench I'd been eyeing and threw it at him with every ounce of force I could muster as I stepped to the side in an effort to get out of the line of fire.
Another wave of heat raced down the corridor and this time it was fierce enough to almost scorch my eyebrows. Pete ducked down a split second before the wrench would have taken him in the side of the head. He wasn't as fast as Benito, but he was still too fast for me to possibly beat him.
Pete blurred into motion, gun down at his side and one hand forward to grab me. I couldn't escape, so I didn't even try. I grabbed a screwdriver off of the table behind me and brought my hand up just as he reached me. I didn't stab him, he impaled himself on it.
My only mistake was not getting the point of my improvised weapon up high enough to do actual damage to him. I'd been worried that he would see it at the last second and dodge to one side, but by playing things safe I'd stabbed him in the stomach, which wasn't going to kill, at least not quickly.
Pete threw me against the wall and then pulled the bloody screwdriver out of his gut.
"You've got fight, I've got to give you that. You made a big mistake though. You just wasted your one chance to take me by surprise."
The screwdriver was up against my neck now with its point dimpling my skin. I was having a hard time breathing, but it wasn't fear. Or maybe it was fear, but it wasn't just fear. I was mad. Guys like Benito and Pete weren't any better than the bullies I'd dealt with back in Minnesota.
If I'd been strong enough or fast enough to provide any kind of threat to them they'd never have picked on me. They liked sure things; they were in it for the sadistic enjoyment rather than for the challenge.
"If you let me go then he might let you live. If you kill me then he'll make your death painful. They call him Dream Stealer."
"I don't care what they call him, he's not going to defeat Paulo. I might be new at this whole vampire thing, but I know scary when I see it. Paulo is one of the strongest pyrokinetics alive. He'll take care of your friend, it's just a matter of time."
"If he's so strong what is he doing out here in the middle of nowhere living on table scraps?"
"It doesn't matter how strong you are, to rule a city, even one here in the U.S., you need an army to keep everyone else in line. Benito's an ass, but he's not wrong about the fact that it's just a matter of time. Us Americans think that we're a big noise, but things are exactly the opposite in the vampire world. America is for the rejects, the vampires who aren't old and powerful enough to rule in Europe."
There was a crash like someone had thrown metal rods against a wall and then another scream, this time a vampire. I opened my mouth to tell Pete that his master was dead, but before I could get the words out a blast of fire shot out of the corridor.
If Pete hadn't moved towards me he would have died. I'd made a mistake in throwing the wrench at him and causing him to move into the alcove with all of the tools, but there hadn't been any way to know it at the time.
Pete grabbed the back of my neck and force-marched me out into the corridor. He still had the gun in his right hand and I could feel the handle of the screwdriver sandwiched between his hand and my neck, but I was too busy trying to keep from falling down to worry about that.
It was a risk to go back out into the corridor, but after Paulo's last blast of heat Pete apparently figured it was most important to get far enough away that the fringes of the next blast wouldn't start us on fire. We ducked around the paint booth less than a second before there was another crash. This time it sounded like someone had thrown an oil drum against a wall.
I was waiting for another jet of fire, but it didn't come. The quick, sharp sounds of steel on steel floated down the corridor and then everything went quiet. I hadn't noticed it before, but one of the attacks had knocked out most of the lights. The bunker had been fairly dark even before Taggart had started killing the vampires; now we had little more than the flicker of a couple of computer monitors to see by.
I heard the breathing even before I heard the footsteps, which was saying something because the footsteps were incredibly loud.
"I'm in here with another vampire, he's got a gun…"
Pete's hand on the back of my neck clamped down so tightly that I let out a hiss of pain. My outcry was answered by a low growl that seemed to come from everywhere. The sound reverberated through the darkness, giving me goose bumps before it finally died out.
"Let the girl go."
"I'm not an idiot, if I let the girl go then I'll have zero leverage."
Pete's voice cracked and I found myself laughing. I stopped myself before Pete could respond. He was terrified, breathing hard and eighty pounds overweight. Some vampire.
"No, your refusal to let her go just means that you're no different than the others I've killed already tonight."
The screwdriver dropped to the concrete; the gun was back, grinding against the side of my head in time to Pete's heartbeat.
"Sure, you can kill me, but I'll take her with me before I go."
"How many bullets do you have in that gun, bloodsucker?"
Taggart's voice was coming from the other direction now. Somehow he'd crossed in front of us without either of us being able to see him. I wouldn't have thought it was possible. My eyes were merely human, but I would have thought that Pete would be able to see even when it was this dark.
"Enough."
"Are you sure? It would be a shame to waste one of them on the girl and then realize that you needed one more to finish me off."
Taggart's breathing had been silent for nearly a minute, but now it returned, a deep, rasping sound that gave away his position.
Pete spun around and fired off three shots to our right. Two of them ricocheted away, but the third hit something softer than that. My heart climbed up into my throat as the breathing stopped, but it started back up a couple of seconds later from a different position.
The gun left my temple again and three more shots rang out. This time the gun wasn't as far away from my face and the ringing in my ears got even worse. I was looking the right direction this time and caught a flash of movement in the muzzle flash.
Taggart staggered as at least one of the bullets struck home and I realized that I couldn't afford to keep waiting. I spun to the right, bringing my right elbow up so that it was traveling towards Pete's throat as my left hand grabbed hold of his wrist in an attempt to control the gun.
My elbow struck home and it was like hitting a wooden door. There was some give there, but not as much as there should have been. Pete gagged, but he didn't go down and I could feel that the gun was still tracking towards Taggart.
The breathing had changed, there was a slow hiss to it like one of Taggart's lungs had been punctured, and he seemed to be struggling to hold his breath. I threw all of my weight against Pete's arm and jostled it just enough that his next three shots ricocheted off of the concrete walls.
