by Craig Zerf
But any group of vampires that ran into the team of Em, Troy and William lasted mere seconds until they met their true death. The three destroyers didn’t even have to slow their forward momentum when they fought. Deathwalker sang its song of retribution while the Alpha and Omega, both in Wolfman form, simply tore any opposition to shreds in mere seconds.
And then there were the unfortunates who came across Missus Jones. The minigun spewed hot lead out at a rate of six thousand rounds per minute. But Tag had to be careful. 7.62mm ammunition clocks in at about five pounds of weight per every one hundred rounds. This meant that the four thousand rounds of ammo that he was carrying weighed in at over two hundred pounds. This plus the ordnance meant that Tag was running around with over four hundred pounds on his back. An impossible feat for anyone not gifted with superhuman strength.
Dietz was humping another one thousand rounds in two cases. This weighed in at one hundred pounds weight and, although he was a bull of a man, it was seriously impeding his maneuverability.
So all told, at the rate of fire produced by the minigun, Tag had approximately one full minute of fire. And when you are in the heat of battle, fighting a bunch of scary bloodsucking monsters, that is not as much ammo as one would initially think.
In fact, Tag had already burned off over two thousand rounds. But on the plus side he had destroyed over seven bloodsuckers.
The Pack continued to advance deep into the complex, killing and being killed as they did so. The battle swung back and forth for a while but, slowly; it seemed as though team Emily was gaining the upper hand. The Pack alone would not have been able to do it but with the addition of the trio of Em, Troy and William and the destructive capabilities of Tag and Dietz, the Nosferatu were being hunted down and destroyed at a much faster rate than they were killing in return.
‘Where is Nathan?’ Shouted Em. ‘Come on out, you asshat. Come and get some. Coward.’
The trio broke through another set of double doors and into a huge internal warehouse. Like most of the other rooms, there was a concrete floor, high iron ceilings and dim lighting. There were no exterior windows but another three double doors were situated along the far wall of the room. They were all closed. The room was completely empty.
Tag and Dietz ran in behind the trio and stopped to catch their breath. Tag took the opportunity to drop his empty ammo boxes and switch out with Dietz, strapping the two, five hundred round cases to his webbing and relieving the Knight of the weight.
Dietz let out a sigh of relief. ‘Thank the lord,’ he gasped. ‘That stuff is heavy.’
‘So I got two thousand rounds left,’ noted Tag. ‘How long will that last?’ He asked Dietz.
‘Twenty seconds.’
Tag nodded. ‘Cool. That should be enough.’
A few wolves ran into the room, sniffed the air and then sat.
‘Where are the others?’ Asked William.
The lead wolf shook his head. The surviving wolves were so split up that, although the Pack could sense their general direction, they weren’t sure how many were alive and exactly where they were. Although it was obvious to William that many of his Pack were already dead.
‘Nathan,’ shouted Emily. ‘Craven dick head. Where are you? Come out, come out wherever you are. Emily wants to play.’
The center door at the end of the cavernous room opened, silently on oiled hinges.
And Nathan walked out. He was wearing soft, mid-calf, black leather boots, black leather trousers and no shirt. His long hair was tied back in a ponytail and he was clean shaven.
Even from over one hundred feet away his malevolence was a palpable thing. An aura of evil and ambition that pushed out ahead of him like a black and midnight cloud.
He smiled and his fangs glistened in the low light, three inches long and needle pointed. Then he raised his right hand end extended his talons. Blood red and as long as a man’s forearm. As sharp as a surgeon’s scalpel and harder than tungsten.
‘Man,’ said Tag. ‘Look, it’s Wolverine.’
Em sniggered. ‘Stop it; he thinks that he looks cool. Don’t be so mean.’
Tag cocked Missus Jones. ‘Don’t care. Anyway, let’s see how he takes to my girlfriend.’ And he pulled the trigger in a quick three second burst.
A stream of superheated lead erupted from the barrel as three hundred rounds tore through the air towards the Capo of the Nosferatu.
But Nathan moved so fast it looked as though he had teleported himself across the room and the slugs merely tore a hole in the wall where he had been mere microseconds before.
And then the other doors opened and a wave of gibbering, slobbering, keening monsters came pouring out.
‘Grinders,’ shouted William.
Tag depressed the trigger again and swept the minigun from side to side; mowing down the twisted versions of the Nosferatu he did so. But twenty seconds goes by real quick and although he destroyed over thirty of them before he ran out of ammo there were still almost two hundred left. He dropped Missus Jones and pulled out his two Desert Eagle pistols. Dietz cocked his MP5 and Em called Deathwalker back into her hand.
The wave of Grinders struck them like an avalanche.
While Em, Troy, Dietz, Tag and the wolves fought for their lives, William leapt over the mass of heaving, battling beings and headed for Nathan, growling his challenge as he did so.
The two of them met on the periphery of the battle, crashing together like a train wreck. There was no finesse involved, no back and forth, parry and thrust. It was elemental. Two unbelievable powerful beings tearing at each other with tooth and claw and fangs.
Nathan feinted left and then swung a powerful right into William’s face. But at the last microsecond, William opened his jaws and clamped them down on Nathan’s forearm. The Capo countered by slashing his talons across William neck. But William hunched up and the instead of his neck, Nathan cut deep into his shoulder.
The wound went to the bone and the pain was enough to force William to let go of the Capo’s arm to regroup his senses.
Then he counterattacked.
But try as he might he could not break through the uber-vampires defense and even his mighty strength was beginning to wane.
Nathan, however, wasn’t even breathing hard and his blows were just as powerful as they had been at the beginning of the brawl.
William rolled and bit into Nathan’s calf but Nathan bent down and hammered his talons into the back of William’s head, clawing and ripping away chunks of flesh as he did so.
The Omega scrambled back but Nathan followed him, slashing and rending. William snapped and rolled in an attempt to escape the punishment that the Capo was dealing out but he was nearing the end of his tether. His movements were slow, his blows lackluster and his reaction times microseconds behind the vampire’s.
And in superhuman combat, microseconds are the difference between life and death.
William grabbed Nathan’s right arm and threw him against the wall. But as he did so, Nathan twisted in the air, and struck the wall feet first. He propelled himself back at the Wolfman and crashed into him, both arms outstretched, talons to the fore. And because William was still off balance from throwing the Capo, he couldn’t get his paws up fast enough to fend off the blow.
Nathan’s talons struck William in the neck with the force of a steam locomotive. The razor sharp, foot long claws tore open his jugular veins and severed his spinal cord in one fell swoop.
The Omega sank to the floor, his life’s blood gushing from the irreparable wound in his neck.
As his life-energy drained from him, his body reverted to human form.
Valiantly he struggled to stand but his severed spine had paralyzed him and he couldn’t move.
Nathan stood above him, his breath wasn’t even elevated. He was the supreme killing machine and none could stand against him. Not even the Omega Wolf.
William struggled to see Emily. But he could not turn his head so even that last request was denied him.<
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Nathan Tremblay knelt down beside the Omega, grabbed his hair and yanked his face towards him. ‘So,’ he said. ‘How about them apples?’
But William didn’t answer. He would never answer anyone ever again.
Emily screamed out in anguish as she sensed the passing of the Omega. The remaining wolves howled their despair and Troy fell to one knee like he had been gut shot, such was the pain of bereavement that threatened to engulf him.
Nathan stood tall, held out his arms and shouted a command. ‘Step back,’ he told the Grinders.
As one they all ceased fighting and scuttled back a few feet. The word of their master was law and they would die before disobeying.
‘Who is the coward now?’ he shouted at Emily. ‘You are pathetic. I have killed your master. I have destroyed your Pack. I have bettered you in every way possible. I am superior to you all. I am the Capo.’
‘Bullshit,’ denied Tag. ‘You just a weird looking dude in leather pants. And it’s time that we took you out. So bring it on, pretty-boy and let Tag whip your ass for you.’
Dietz turned to Tag and grimaced. ‘Really? You going to whip his ass?’
Tag laughed. ‘No way, the dude is just too quick. But I’ll have a go at it.’
‘No,’ said Emily. ‘You won’t. He’s mine.’
Tag nodded. ‘Okay, no worries. Dietz, Troy and I will just take on the hundred or so monsters instead. Suits me.’
Dietz took out one of his flasks of Holy Water and flung it at the nearest group of Grinders. The bottle smashed against ones head and sprinkled the water over the whole group. All of them immediately started smoking and fell to the floor, screaming and howling in agony as their flesh fell from them in chunks.
‘More acid?’ Asked Tag.
Dietz shook his head. ‘Real Holy Water.’
‘Well I’ll be dammed,’ commented Tag. ‘It works.’
‘I suppose that you just have to have faith,’ said Dietz.
‘Oh well,’ said Troy. ‘Let’s do this.’
The four of them plus the remaining wolves threw themselves at the Grinders, shooting and cutting and biting with abandon, knowing that it was their last charge. Knowing that it was hopeless but driven by the fact that someone had to do it. And to die fighting was better than to die running.
Then there was a massive crash and half of the roof fell in. Sunlight poured down on them and the Grinders scuttled away from it, shrieking and mewling as it scorched their exposed skin.
A shadow blotted out the sun.
Troy looked up. ‘Holy crap,’ he cussed. ‘A dragon.’
It was like a lion attacking a herd of sheep. Wherever the Grinders ran the dragon cut them down with jets of burning plasma. White hot streams of fire sizzled and crackled and the monsters screamed and died in their scores.
Within minutes the only vampire left was Nathan. Standing in the corner of the warehouse, keeping in the shadow. Avoiding the sun.
Emily walked over to him, swinging Deathwalker in a lazy figure eight in front of her as she did so.
‘Ready to die?’ She asked.
’Are you?’ Counted Nathan.
‘In your dreams, laddie,’ said Emily.
The fight lasted less than two seconds. Two seconds of preternaturally swift combat. Nathan attacked and Emily counted. Deathwalker sang its song of horror and bereavement and Nathan fell to the floor.
Emily had cut off his arms and legs and the vampire lay there screaming in mortal agony. But even in the throes of utter torment, Nathan’s powerful Nosferatu body was starting to heal. His wounds had closed up and his limbs were starting to regenerate.
‘Dietz,’ called Em.
The Knight of the Church stepped forward.
‘Do you have any more of that Holy Water?’
Dietz nodded.
Em stood up and pointed at the evil thing writhing on the floor in front of her. ‘Finish it.’
Dietz knelt beside Nathan and closed his eyes for a moment while he prayed. Then he took the bottle out, unscrewed the lid and poured the contents onto Nathan’s face.
Nothing happened.
‘What, no fancy words or nothing?’ Asked Tag. ‘What about the whole, power of Christ compels me stuff?’
Dietz smiled. ‘We are not play-acting, my friend. We are simply delivering the Lord’s justice. And it appears that I truly do have the faith. Which is nice to know.’
And Nathan’s face started to bubble and burn.
He screamed for the entire ten minutes that it took him to die. And when it was over there was no body left, only a small pile of greasy ash.
Emily looked for the Dragon but it had gone and in its place stood an old Chinese lady in a blue silk kimono.
Emily bowed before her. ‘Thank you, great Dragon,’ she said.
‘It is of no moment,’ answered the old lady. ‘In fact, you should thank your friend, Merlin. He can be most persuasive. We Dragons have not left our communities for many thousands of years now and he convinced me to break with tradition.’ She shook her head. ‘That is a very naughty man.’
‘Whatever,’ added Tag. ‘Thanks to you Dragon Lady. We owe you one.’
She nodded. ‘Yes you do.’
Then she started to shimmer and change as an aura of green light coruscated around her. Just before she reverted to her dragon form she turned to Emily and spoke one word.
‘Persevere.’
And then the great beast took flight and left.
Chapter 40
Three weeks had passed since the great battle.
Tag had left for Italy with Dietz. They had decided to take a well-deserved holiday and Dietz was going to show the big man the sights.
Nine wolves remained, and they had decided to stay at the forest dwelling while they waited for Troy to tell them what to do next.
Emily and Troy were in the London penthouse at St. Pancras.
Em woke up as the sun streamed into the room. She rolled over and felt for Troy but although the bed was still warm from his body heat he wasn’t there. So she got out of bed, threw on a robe and went through to the kitchen.
He was standing next to the kitchen table; in front of him were two empty mugs and a kettle. He was staring at a packet of tea leaves, a concerned look on his face.
Em walked over and gave him a kiss. ‘Wassup?’
He held the packet out to her. ‘It’s Tag’s stash of tea leaves. He normally takes it with him but he must have forgotten.’
So?’ Asked Em.
‘Well, we always wondered how he made his tea. Now we know.’
Emily took the packet from Troy, opened it and took a sniff. ‘What is that?’
Troy started to laugh. ‘It’s cut with marijuana,’ he said. ‘No wonder we all liked it so much. It’s the ultimate de-stresser. You want some?’
Em shook her head. ‘You know what; I think I’ll go for coffee.’
‘Me too,’ agreed Troy.
He brewed a couple of mugs and the two of them sat down.
‘So,’ said Troy. ‘What next?’
Emily thought for a while before she answered. ‘Next…we carry on. The fight against evil never ends.’ She leaned over and kissed him again. ‘We persevere,’ she said. ‘Together.’
He toasted her with his mug. ‘Together.’
And far away the Pack threw their heads back and howled as they sensed their new Omega’s happiness.
AUTHOR’S NOTE
Well…that’s it for now. Em and Troy are finally together, Tag is off causing his own particular brand of chaos in Italy and the Pack are recovering. Perhaps we shall revisit them in the future…but right now it’s time for a break.
I was sad to see Bastian and Sylvian and William go – but this is war and people die.
I’m busy working on another series…it’s called THE BLOODBORN PROJECT. Not to give too much away but there are werewolves, black ops, and the usual blood drenched mayhem that you’ve come to expect.
If you haven�
�t read mu FOREVER MAN series…please give the first one a go – it’s FREE. http://a.co/bumqRP5
I know that it’s a hassle but could you please leave a short review on Amazon if you can. It really helps others decide on whether or not to buy the book. http://a.co/4hA0dan Here is the link to leave reviews.
Also – as always, if you’d like to have a chat – my email is [email protected] Message me and I’ll get straight back to you.
Okay – next is a sample of The Forever man series. Give it a try.
Thanks again for your support and hope to see you soon.
Your friend – Craig.
Chapter 1 – The Forever Man – Book 1:
PULSE
Master Gunnery Sergeant Nathaniel Hogan stood outside the new American embassy at Nine Elms, London and stared at the boats drifting down the river Thames. He was dressed in his standard combat utility uniform or ‘digies’, so called because of their MARPAT Digital camouflage. He was wearing the darker woodland version as opposed to the light desert one, even though, strictly speaking, it was for winter use only.
Hogan was a large man. Raw boned, six foot four, around two hundred and forty pounds. And, at only twenty-six years old, one of the youngest Master Gunnery Sergeants in the corps.
His black hair was cut in the standard marine style, short back and sides, the length not exceeding three inches. He was clean-shaven. His eyes, deep set under thick eyebrows, their dark green color like emeralds in pools of shadow. High cheekbones suggested Native American ancestry backed up by his broad, white teeth and straight Roman nose.
He did not carry an assault rifle but, on his hip rode a Colt 1911M25, the latest update of the venerable 1911. Still chambered for the 45 cal round but with a staggered magazine holding ten rounds and also with an inbuilt compensator.
He glanced at his watch. Eighteen hundred hours. The last of the public had left. Sunset was forecast for twenty hundred. Change of guard was scheduled for the same time.
Hogan was in charge of eight marines stationed at the embassy. It was what the corps called a ‘reward posting’. Eighteen months of cushy duty in one of the most fun cities in the world. Tonight he was knocking off after change of guard and was heading into the city to meet an English girl. Emma Rittington.
