"If I had any doubts before," Mickey said, "I sure as hell don’t now. They’re vampires all right, actual dyed in the wool fecking vampires. Looks like you were right Soph."
"Perhaps we should have kept those tools now."
"Sophie, I’m going to try and keep them busy here. I’m handy if I need to be." He clenched his fists tightly and I believed him. "You run, okay? You run the hell out of here. If you make it to the pub, wake up Maggie. Tell her we got attacked, tell her anything, and just get me back okay? Whatever happens, don’t let them take me, dead or alive."
"I’m not leaving you," I stated, my tone even and determined.
"Just run, will you!" As Mickey barked his command, the first of the two vamps made his move. It was the one who had handed the bag over to me earlier, but he didn’t look so non-threatening and sheepish now. We were the sheep, lambs going to the slaughter. He was confident and apparently incensed about the dead body on the floor; he may as well have had venom dripping from each pour. Hatred radiated from him with every step he took in our direction.
It was obvious to me now; they were some sort of gang. It couldn’t be a coincidence that three random vamps happened to be hanging out within a half-mile radius of each other. They were all in together. Had we been set up, or was this just bad luck?
I had to admit that as ploys go, it wasn’t a bad one. They go to a bar and case out a likely victim, ideally a girl who is preoccupied. They steal her bag or use some other ruse to get her outside. When she least suspects it, she gets jumped by another. Perhaps if Mickey hadn’t come to my aid the plan was for the other two to get back with a van and haul me off somewhere. I doubt many people would be as stupid as me and chase after a couple of robbers though, but perhaps that part was just coincidental. They could have just been after the money. After all, surely even vampires had expenses to cover.
Whatever their initial plan had been, they certainly seemed determined to get back on track now, including making a square meal out of us. The larger of the two men lurched towards Mickey, who quickly pushed me away from him in an attempt to protect me. I stumbled but quickly regained my footing, while the driver of the van followed his partner’s lead and headed in my direction.
Even if I’d wanted to run, it was too late. Besides, there was no way I was going to let Mickey face this on his own. He’d saved my life twice in one night, I was going to do whatever I could to repay the favour now. Furthermore, I was feeling angry, really bloody angry. Stuff crying! I decided I wasn’t going to feel sorry for myself anymore, This was not how things were meant to end for me, and I was damn sure that I was going to let this be the end of Mickey either.
I’d never thrown a punch in my life, but I’d seen enough films and scraps on a Saturday night in town to know what to do. I slid my right foot back and shifted my weight onto it, in what I hoped would resemble a boxing pose, and raised both fists in from of me, mirroring Mickey’s moves. He looked at me. In that brief moment, the world seemed to stop. Something passed between us, a kind of quiet recognition that this was perhaps it, the end of everything. A wish that we had met in different circumstances. I smiled at him as if to say, I know. I wanted to reach across and touch him, to hold his hand and run away, but we both knew that we would be unlikely to make it. The few metres between us may as well have been miles.
All these thoughts flew through my mind in the few seconds that it took for the first of the vamps to cross the cobbled square. Mickey did his best to push him back, but it was useless. The vamp hardly moved, staggering back only a few feet before lurching forward once again. By the time he made a second lunge at us, vampire number two had caught up and was coming at me as well. I attempted to swing a punch, but missed miserably and I ended up just swatting the air. Mickey lunged over at me, swung his arm back around me and cradled me into his back. I wished he wouldn’t, it was actually creating a fight of two very strong vamps against one reasonably built Irishman. All he had was bravado and determination to keep me safe; enviable it may be, but who knows what other powers or skills his opponents would have. It felt wrong to cower behind him, and there was a part of me which felt frustrated at him for it; frustrated and grateful.
As the two vamps approached again, I saw my opportunity. When Mickey swung a right hook in the first one, I shoulder charged the second one, wrapping my arms around his waist as I bolted forward, forcing him back with my speed and sheer determination. After a few metres, I released my arms and let him fall to the ground. I’d managed to cover most of the road and was almost at the van when I stopped.
A moment of panic ensued – I had no idea what to do next – all he had to do was get up, clock me on the head and throw me in. I’d learned that I could run quite quickly, so I figured I should probably head back to Mickey. With luck, his punch could have knocked vampire number one out, but I guessed it probably hadn’t. I was getting to be right about too many things that night and this was going to be yet another thing. Rather than knock the vamp out, it just seemed to aggravate him even more. Although he had momentarily lost his footing, it had done nothing but stall proceedings for a few seconds.
I felt totally helpless as I watched the vamp grab Mickey with both shoulders and sink his teeth into his neck.
"Noooooooo," I shrieked across the street.
I felt the tears well up again in my eyes and I couldn’t control them this time. Mickey resembled a rag doll being thrown around in the jaws of a very angry puppy. His eyes looked at me across the distance; it was the saddest thing I’d ever seen and yet I could offer him no comfort, no safe harbour. His eyes glazed over as his body surrendered to shock. The only hope I would have of aiding him would rely on me dispatching my own vamp and that wouldn't be easier. He had jumped up from the floor and was holding me in a choke hold.
Driven by my desire to save Mickey, I performed the only self-defense move I actually knew. A former housemate had taught it to me in an attempt to encourage an interest in going to a kickboxing class with her. I may not have been able to throw a decent punch, but I sure did know how to use a pair of heels when I needed to. I wasn’t off guard this time. I knew what I was fighting and what was likely to happen to me, and to Mickey, if I just sat back and did nothing.
Rather than blindly panicking, I was going to bloody well take charge of the situation. I brought my hands forward and grabbed the arm wrapped around my neck. I knew it would be pointless to try and pull them off me, they were like a vice ensnaring me, but I could certainly give this ass-hat enough motivation to let me go. I clung to my opponent’s arms, lifted my right knee up and planted my shoe down hard on my opponent’s foot. Although my boot heels were only a couple of inches high, they had a decent point and I forced them into the vampire's canvas shoe and into his foot. No time to be squeamish, Sophie. I twisted my foot around, driving the heel in further.
The vampire lost its balance and yelped in pain and anger. I used the time wisely, pulling my arms sharply down, simultaneously pulling the vampires forearms with me. He loosened his grip and although he didn't release me entirely, it created enough space for me to wriggle my shoulders forward, bring my head down and then sharply back. I was in luck; with him being the shorter of the two vamps, I avoided the really hard parts of his head and made contact with his nose. Crunch. I shook myself free, pushed him to the side of the van and raced across the street to Mickey. He was doing well to stay conscious, but I wasn’t sure how much longer he had; he’d probably pass out from the pain alone soon.
"Get off him", I yelled charging. I scanned the street as I ran, scouring the surroundings for anything I could use as a weapon. There was nothing. "I said get off him, you bastard!"
Probably figuring that Mickey wasn’t going anywhere the vampire the turned his attention to me, dropping Mickey's limp body with a smack.
Shit. I didn’t have any type of plan at all. I’d managed to stop him feeding off Mickey, but now I’d just served myself up on a plate instead. There was no guarantee that I’d s
urvive another brutal attack, especially unarmed. There was no time to weigh up my options, I had to do something and do it fast. But all I could think to do was bring my arms up to cover my face and close my eyes as the thing before me crouched like a runner at the starting blocks. In a split second, he’d be on me and I’d be sandwiched between the two vamps. I knew I wouldn’t survive that. Mickey and I were doing to die. I’m sorry Mickey.
Then came the bang and everything went quiet.
When I turned in the direction of the noise, Maggie was the last thing I expected to see. She was wearing a loose cotton nightshirt, a grey skirt and a raincoat. The look was finished off with some sensible pull on boots and, oh yeah, a shotgun. I’m not familiar with Belgian gun laws, but I’m pretty sure that they don’t allow you to wander the streets at night brandishing a firearm.
"Get back, you." She ordered.
I thought at first that she was talking to me. I stood completely still, too afraid to move. I’d never seen a gun before, apart from on the TV or in a film.
"Walk towards me Sophie, there’s a good girl." Her tone was warmer this time, but still determined. I did exactly as I was told; hurrying past the vamp who had staggered to his feet despite the hole in his foot. He looked more confused by the whole situation than I did; trying to weigh up what would be a better option – stay put, attack or run.
I looked behind to the other vamp to see if he would take the lead. It was only then that I realised what the bang had been, and what it had done. Amidst all the chaos, I’d completely missed the fact that Maggie had let out a round from her shotgun and had shot the other vamp squarely in the face. I’d have to admit, she had remarkable aim.
Although there was a small part of me which would have been happy to cower behind Maggie for protection, I needed to see that Mickey was okay.
"I need to go check on Mickey," I whispered. Maggie nodded. I crept away from her side and sprinted across the street to where he lay on the ground.
Mickey was not in a good way. He was covered in blood and his clothes were dirty from several impacts with the ground. If there’d been a mirror to hand, I’d have seen that I looked even worse. I knelt down beside his body and gently touched the side of his face.
"Michael Kelly, you better not die on me."
His eyes fluttered open, squinting in an attempt to focus as he tried sitting up. It wasn't easy for him and he settled for resting on his elbows, at least giving his head some respite from the cold ground. He reached for his neck and felt the wetness on it. Blood was slowly trickling from the wound, but it looked like the flow was slowing down; it was unnatural. My limited knowledge of first aid told me that he should have bled out by now, but I had decided to listen to the voice in my head and believe in vampires. Usual rules didn't apply anymore. I pressed my hand down onto the wound.
"Are we dead Soph?" he asked weakly.
"No Mickey, not yet anyway. Try to sit up; it’ll slow the bleeding". I helped him sit up, squatting down behind him so he could lean into my body.
From across the street, Maggie held the vamp in place with a stern look and the even more persuasive gun. "Everything alright over there?" she asked.
"He’s hurt," I yelled back, "but I think he’ll be okay. He’s lost quite a bit of blood, but he’s talking. We need to get him out of here."
"We all need to get out of here," Mickey muttered through gritted teeth. I knew he had to be in a lot of pain.
Maggie was saying something to the vamp across the street, although I couldn’t make out all the details from a distance. She could have been speaking to him in Flemish or French for all I knew. Whatever it was, the vampire listened with reluctant compliance. When she finished, he walked away, scooped up the body of my original attacker, wrench-head, and threw him in the back of their van. Maggie then marched him over to us, keeping the barrel of the gun pressed firmly into his back, and told him to pick up the other body
"Now, be a good boy," Maggie instructed him, "and pick up your friend and get rid of him too.”
The vamp bent down and picked up the remains of the gunshot victim. Our eyes met when he leaned over to scoop up the body. Neither of us uttered a word, but his silence conveyed everything. I’m going to kill you one day you bitch and if I don’t, someone else will, trust me. We're going to keep you for months; we'll have fun with you. It can take a long time to die if we want. He turned and carried the body back towards the van, closed the door and got back into the driver’s seat. Casting a sideways look at us through the window, he sneered and bared his teeth.
"I don’t want to see you here again, "Maggie shouted.
He appeared to nod, turned the key to the engine and drove off. I watched in astonishment as the van disappeared into the darkness.
CHAPTER 8
Given that Maggie had a gun and knew how to use it, I decided that it would probably be sensible to let her carry on taking charge. Besides which, she knew the area and the people. If anyone was going to be able to get us through the night, I figured it was probably going to be her.
Remembering that, despite her gun-wielding ways, Maggie was probably old enough to be my grandmother, I took most of the weight when helping to get Mickey up off the ground. The wound in his neck was healing, but he’d lost a lot of blood, and taken one hell of a beating. He was unsteady on his feet and needed help to manoeuvre his first few steps.
Maggie led the way back up the streets to O’Malley’s, and we shuffled behind her as fast as we could. She told us that we were probably lucky that we were attacked where we were; at least the bars and restaurants had all closed up by then, the handful that there were. Nobody was going to tell on us. Although there were a few flats for rent above them, they weren’t occupied by the most salubrious of tenants. The area was generally known for prostitution and small time drug dealers. Curtain twitchers rarely went to the police. Most of the residents didn't ‘officially’ live there anyway.
I couldn't help wonder what would have happened if it had all gone down in a busy, residential area. Maybe, someone would have come to our aid earlier. Still, Maggie had a point. I wasn't convinced that anyone would believe we'd just killed two vampires. Everything felt pretty surreal, with our luck we'd probably get locked up ourselves.
We walked cautiously and in silence until we eventually reached the bar. Maggie unlocked the door and pushed it open. Mickey and I shuffled through, arm in arm, and plonked ourselves down on the nearest bench.
Maggie pulled down the heavy, steel security door behind us, locked it and slid the bolts at the bottom into position. She shook it to be sure it was secure, it rattled but this seemed to satisfy here, and then closed and bolted the internal, saloon style doors behind them. Once she was done, she dragged one of the benches behind the door for extra reinforcement and propped her rifle against the bar.
Now I was sitting down, I finally began to feel the extent of my own injuries and peeled off my jacket to inspect them further. Between the two violent incidents of the evening, I had sustained more than a cut to my neck. It seemed strange that the bite could have healed so quickly compared to the pattern of bruises now appearing on my arms. Green tinges were forming on the edges of the impact sites. My right arm felt like it had been pulled out of its socket, a strange mix of aches and numbness. A chain of purple fingerprints decorated my wrist like a daisy chain. I rubbed it with my other hand, grateful that at least it wasn’t broken. I didn’t want to even think about what my knees would look like.
I studied Mickey and felt guilty for even thinking about my own condition. He’d lost most of the skin from the knuckles on both hands, his hair was matted with blood, his lip was starting to swell and he was caked in blood down most of the neck. His clothes were filthy with dirt and blood and his tee shirt was torn.
Wincing, I managed to lift my arm high enough to put it around him and I pulled him into me. He stayed there for a few moments, enjoying a brief period of peace, before he sat himself back up. He ran his hands through his
hair, wincing as he did so. I wasn’t sure which part of him hurt more.
"Ouch," he muttered. "I need a drink". He tried standing up but was still wobbly. Thinking better of it, he stood back down.
Maggie took a seat at the table with us, bringing with her a bottle of Jamieson and three shot glasses. She also brought the gun, which she rested against the table. Pouring three large measures from the bottle, she looked us both up and down and asked how we were doing. I lied and assured him I was doing okay. Mickey didn’t respond and just drank his whiskey.
She told him that she’d need to dress Mickey's wounds, although they would heal soon enough. He'd feel weak for a few days. She was good at this and I was glad she was taking charge, but I couldn’t shake the burning question of what she thought actually must have gone on. She hadn’t seemed at all fazed by the whole debacle. And what the hell was she doing carrying around a gun?
I was halfway through my drink before I managed to spit out my first question; Mickey choked on his drink as the words left my lips.
"So do you usually go round shooting vampires who try to kill your bar staff?" My attempt to sound offhand and casual did not come out well. I sounded plain hysterical.
She didn’t answer; just looked at me, quietly smiling as if I’d asked her nothing more than so do you like the décor? "Sorry," I added, crinkling my nose, "I didn’t mean that to come out like it did."
"That’s alright dear, I understand. I was young like you once. I’ve seen a lot of the world since then. Very little surprises me anymore."
"Like vampires?" Mickey added, cringing as he it, partly from pain, but mostly from embarrassment. Vampires. Despite everything we’d seen, it still sounded remarkably far-fetched when you said it out loud.
Sophie Morgan (Book 1): Relative Strangers (A Modern Vampire Story) Page 8
