Fortunately, I was spared from having to witness anymore by the nice comfy wall I slammed through - pretty much pulverizing the few parts of me uninjured by his initial blow.
I crashed through plaster and slammed into something solid, halting my momentum with a crunch.
As the dust settled, booming laughter reached my ears from the outer room. I may have failed at stopping this truck-on-legs, but at least I’d succeeded in providing amusement. That had to count for something.
Wheezing blood, I grabbed hold of whatever I had hit and dragged my sorry carcass back to my feet...
Your end has come. You shall die screaming the name of the destroyer.
...and subsequently jumped out of my skin. What the fuck was that? I spun and checked the room, coughing up even more blood in the process. I’d have sworn that threat had come from Harry Decker, a wizard who’d made it his life’s work to fuck with every aspect of my existence.
But that asshole was dead. During her last visit, Gan had been so kind as to perform impromptu throat surgery on him - extracting needless things from his body, like his windpipe.
Whoa, that monster must’ve hit me harder than I thought. I shook my head to clear out the cobwebs, and that’s when I realized where I was.
It was Sally’s office...or former office, anyway. Either way, it was the corner suite from which she’d overseen the coven like some sort of queen bee. She’d spared no expense either, as I could attest having just slammed into the solid as fuck desk that had once been hers.
Wait a second...Sally’s office!
Taking a quick look around, it appeared that Starlight hadn’t gotten around to redecorating it much. I mean, there was a skull sitting in one corner like the world’s most gruesome paperweight. That was new, but not much else had changed. Maybe she was afraid to, not knowing if bitchzilla might return.
That gave me an idea.
What the hell? It was worth a shot...quite literally.
* * *
I stepped back out of the office, still a little wobbly, but infinitely better prepared.
“...BRING THE ABOMINATION TO ME!!”
The ass end of the compulsion whispered in my mind. It had obviously been directed elsewhere, probably to my three bewitched comrades. Sure enough, I caught Firebird’s tight little rear disappearing just as the stairwell door closed on it.
Considering the similarity to the word spoken earlier, I was forced to conclude that Ed was the abomination in question. Hopefully, he hadn’t gotten stuck in a car that was stopping at every floor to pick up some asshole or another. If so, there was a distinct chance I wouldn’t reach him in time to do any good.
The fucker who’d made the compulsion faced the doorway where he’d sent his new minions. He slowly turned back toward me, no doubt sensing my reappearance.
That same bemused grin appeared on his face, and he spoke once more. I didn’t need to be a linguist to appreciate the mocking tone. Once more, he ended things with that annoying frater word.
“Oh yeah? Well, Daddy’s here to give you a permanent timeout, asshole.” A grin appeared on my own face as I lifted the massive weapon and pointed it straight at him.
I’d gotten lucky. Starlight hadn’t really changed much of anything, including the contents of Sally’s drawers. One of them had still contained my former partner’s favorite response to unwanted pickup lines - a Desert Eagle loaded with silver-tipped bullets. Oh yeah. Now we were cooking with gas.
I grasped it with both hands, remembering how I’d almost knocked out my own teeth the last time I’d fired it - ending up looking like Dirty Harry’s dipshit cousin.
Tarzan the Ape Vamp raised one eyebrow, but continued grinning. A small shiver of fear crept up my spine. Did this guy think he was so tough that a load of high caliber...
Then I remembered he’d spent God knows how long decorating a shelf in Alex’s closet. It was quite possible he didn’t even know what a gun was.
Well, if that were the case, then it was time to go to school.
I put pressure on the trigger. I’d seen this guy move. If he went to warp nine and appeared in front of me again, I wanted to make sure there was a photon torpedo waiting for him. Fuck that Picard Maneuver bullshit.
He stepped forward and blathered more nonsense. Another idea hit me as he continued yammering. If it worked, then it was surely lights out for Mr. Muscles. The time for taking chances was over. I’d accidentally let this guy out to play, and my friend had paid for it with his life. He was going down, and I was making sure he stayed there this time.
“No habla, hombre,” I said, taking a step to my left.
Come on...
He took a step to mirror my own. Yes! No matter what timeframe you might hail from, the rules of a standoff apparently apply.
“That’s right, gruesome,” I continued, keeping my voice steady. One of the lessons I’d taken to heart as a vampire was that appearance was everything. Play the role of the bad cop convincingly enough, and people will fall in line to believe it. Show a bit of weakness and the masses will be all over you like hyenas on a rotting corpse. “Be a good little vamp and papa will let you play with his Red Rider BB gun.”
We continued to circle in a clockwise manner.
Just a wee bit more.
“WHY DO YOU STAND AGAINST ME, LITTLE BROTHER?!”
The compulsion was subtle, with no force to it. It seemed that Ator the Fighting Eagle had likewise come to the conclusion that it was the only way we were going to communicate.
Little brother? What the fuck kind of family issues did this shithead have? I swear, if he called me “Mommy” next, I was outta there.
Finally!
The big dummy took one more step, which put his back to the windows he’d blown out upon his arrival. It was time to pay the piper.
“I’M NOT YOUR BROTHER, YOUR FATHER, OR YOUR UNCLE BUCK. WHAT I AM IS THE BADDEST MOTHERFUCKER YOU’RE EVER GOING TO MEET. THE NAME IS DR. DEATH...”
I smiled ever wider. “AND THIS IS MY BOOMSTICK!!”
Elevator Music
Yeah, I might have laid it on a little thick. Fortunately, there was nobody around to give me shit about it. That is, nobody who wouldn't shortly be a pile of dust.
I opened fire and - big surprise - the first shot went wide as I re-acclimated to the fact that Sally’s gun kicked like a goddamned mule. The look on the other vamp’s face turned to one of surprise as the thunderous report sounded in the close quarters. Satisfyingly, it quickly changed to one of pain as my next hit home and blasted a hole in his meaty shoulder. It wasn’t a kill shot as I’d hoped, but the douchebag definitely noticed it.
I wasn’t about to lose my advantage by gawking, so I steadied my aim and continued to squeeze the trigger.
I’d love to lie and say I blew the fucker to pieces, like Robert Downey Jr. at the end of Natural Born Killers, but at least half my shots missed. Oh well, that movie kinda sucked ass anyway.
The ones that hit home did the trick, though. Hunks of gore flew, followed by hot sparks as the silver reacted with his blood. Best yet, each impact drove him steadily backward.
Of course, if the movies have taught me anything, it’s that one will always run out of bullets right before the bad guy careens to his certain death. Fucking clichés, they always gotta show up and piss on a guy’s parade.
Thankfully, I’d anticipated that shit happening. The second the gun clicked dry, I was on the move, racing across the room at top speed and hoping to all hell that my target didn’t duck.
Fortunately, he was slightly preoccupied with his missing pounds of body mass. He looked up too late and I delivered a dropkick that would have made any WWE superstar proud.
We connected and my momentum transferred into him - thank goodness. I fell to the floor and he flew backward out the window, catching the express route to the ground floor.
Game over, fucker.
* * *
I may not be the best at anticipating the moves of my enemies. Wh
at can I say? I’d once been given the assignment to read The Art of War in college and had instead tossed in a few Kung Fu movies - making my best guess when it was time to hand in the report. Got a C on it - not too shabby, if I do say so myself.
Fortunately, I had a lifetime of bad action movies to fall back on. Raising the empty gun in one hand, I stepped to the window and glanced out - ready to club the crap out of Big Brother if he was still somehow holding on.
Amazingly enough, he wasn’t there waiting to drag me to my doom. Yes!
I risked a further peek out the window. Sure enough, a tiny, smoldering figure way down below lay atop some poor schmuck’s crushed car. At least it wasn’t Ed’s this time.
Seeing all I needed, I ducked back in. There was just enough sunlight streaming through the clouds to make my day unpleasant otherwise. Also, I didn’t want anyone to see me staring at the scene below. I had little doubt that whatever landed would soon be easily vacuumed up, but there were still lots of lights flashing from whatever had blown up earlier. I didn’t fancy any confrontations that might end with my ass being hauled downtown for questioning.
I had more important things to attend to.
My hope was that Hercules’s hold on my friends would end with his death, but the whole compulsion thing was still a bit fuzzy to me. I couldn’t take that chance.
With any luck, Ed had reached the lobby and bolted for the exit. Starlight and the others couldn’t follow him there. Even if their orders bade them to do so, the pain of imminent immolation would definitely snap them back to reality. Compulsion was a powerful tool, but strong enough emotions could break its hold.
It was probably also not a grand idea to stay where I was. There had been a lot of commotion, as well as really fucking loud gunfire. Surely one of the other tenants had noticed. It was time to vacate the premises.
* * *
I stepped to the stairwell door just as the elevator dinged open at my floor.
What the hell? There was no way he was still alive. Even if there was, why would he be taking the elevator back up? It was probably Starlight and the others returning now that Muscle-Boy’s hold over them was gone.
Still, a little paranoia had served me well in the past. I assumed a defensive stance as the doors opened.
A guy about my age, maybe six inches shorter, stood inside. He was in a bit better shape than me - well, okay, a lot better shape. He wore jeans, a jacket, and sported a Phoenix Suns shirt underneath. The irony of showing up to a vampire-owned floor wearing something like that was not lost upon me.
He took a casual step out of the elevator, put his phone back in his pocket, and stopped in his tracks as the scene before him sank in. On any other day, the office looked just like what it was called. Today, it looked like - well, like an ancient vampire had just waged a one-man war in it.
His eyes focused on me and widened. Go figure. I probably looked about as good as I felt. Oh yeah, and I was also still holding Sally’s hand cannon. Such a scene might seem just a wee bit suspicious to an outsider.
“Um...I think I got the wrong floor,” he muttered as he backpedaled. The doors began to close and his hand immediately went for the pocket where he’d just deposited his phone.
Oh, crap. Like I really needed this shit right now.
* * *
If I’d been smart, I would have just made for the stairs and gotten the fuck out of the building, period.
Instead, I panicked and pointed the gun at him. “Hold the door.”
I'd been on the wrong end of the Desert Eagle’s barrel and knew it wasn’t exactly the least intimidating thing on the planet - even empty as it was.
He hesitated for a bare second - almost giving me reason to put on a burst of speed to reach him in time - but then moved his hand to the button. Apparently, he didn't want to test whether the doors were bulletproof or not.
I stepped in, moved ever so slightly behind him, and placed the oversized gun in my jacket pocket - as much as I could, anyway. It was only then that thoughts of what a stupid fucking plan this was began to register.
“So...” I’d never taken a hostage before, at least not by myself, so I wasn’t quite sure where to take this next. It’s always so much easier in the movies. “How’s it going?”
“Listen, man, it’s cool. I didn’t see anything. I was just popping by to meet a buddy and grab a bite to eat...”
“Offhand, I’m thinking you got the wrong place.”
“No shit.” He paused, as if suddenly remembering I was holding a gun with enough power to blow a bowling ball-sized hole in him. “Sorry.”
“Apology accepted.”
“So, what do we do now?”
Oh. Yeah, I guess we couldn’t just stand there like two putzes holding the doors open for the rest of the day. Someone in maintenance was bound to notice that. I was pretty sure the building staff received the occasional bonus to look the other way with regards to weirdness on our floors, but this was the middle of the day - all good vamps should be sleeping.
Ultimately, only one destination made sense. “Hit the button for the basement. If anyone gets in between here and there, play it real natural.” I let the implied “or else” hang in the air between us, hoping my words sounded sufficiently threatening. It was all bullshit, of course. I had no idea what to do with this clown, but killing him definitely wasn’t on the agenda. Maybe I could lose him in the sewers, let him find his own way out.
“You know, you don’t have to do this,” he said as the doors finally slid shut. “I won’t tell anyone, I swear.”
Gah! Talk about cliché. Did that shit ever work with anyone? I mean, who would be stupid enough to...
The elevator stopped between floors and the emergency buzzer rang. A few seconds later, the lights flickered, but remained on.
“What the fuck?”
“It wasn’t me, I swear.”
Oh, great. I was stuck with a whiner.
I waited for a few moments, hoping the jam was temporary. The buzzing eventually ceased - a good thing for my sensitive ears - but the elevator remained where it was.
Out of curiosity, I tried pushing the buttons for the other floors - nothing.
“You should give up, man. I bet the cops stopped this thing.”
I found that unlikely, considering this building didn’t even have a security guard at the front desk, one of the few left in Manhattan that didn’t - courtesy of the coven pulling a few strings.
“They’re probably watching us right now via video camera, like in Devil.”
“Devil?”
“Yeah, that M. Night Shamalyan movie where a bunch of people...”
“You actually watched that?”
“Not all of it,” he replied meekly.
I told my prisoner to pipe the fuck down. If the dude was going to yammer on about movies, at least they could be good ones.
I pushed the service button in the hope that someone in maintenance would pick up. There might not be a guard in the lobby, but there were staff on hand, especially since shit tended to break a lot wherever vampires were concerned.
Several minutes passed with no response. What the hell?
All at once, sounds from outside our little metal prison began to reach our ears. I turned to listen, trying to take it all in. However, one didn’t need vampire senses to realize that alarms were going off throughout the building.
Something was going on out there, and I had no idea what...
“Fuck this shit!” The guy I’d been escorting slammed into me with his shoulder, sending me off balance. He was a little dude, but had some muscle behind him. Had I been human, he might have very well kicked my ass. That wasn’t his objective, though.
He stepped back and I found myself looking down the barrel of Sally’s favorite noisemaker.
“Don’t move.”
“It’s not loaded.”
“Bullshit. Now stay back; I’m warning you.”
“Warn me all the fuck you want.”
“I’m serious. Don’t make me kill you.”
“You’re a little late for that.”
“Huh?”
“Never mind.”
I took a step forward and raised my hand slowly toward the gun. He immediately squeezed the trigger, resulting in a dry click. That surprised me. I figured I would call his bluff. Now I was happy I hadn’t been lying about being out of bullets. That would have otherwise been a bit awkward...in an excruciating sort of way.
“It’s empty,” he said in disbelief.
“That’s what I told you, genius.”
“Fucking asshole,” he spat as he tossed it at me.
“Sorry.”
“I almost shit myself.”
“Let’s be glad you didn’t,” I said, sitting down in a corner. “Because I’ve seen enough for one day.”
* * *
For probably the hundredth time, I contemplated checking if there really was a top hatch on the elevator car or if that was only an urban legend. Even if there was, I wasn’t sure what to do. I had no idea what floor we were stuck at. The display above the doors showed some error message. Trying to shimmy my ass up the cables and prying open random doors sounded like a good way to freak out even more people if I picked the wrong floor.
Instead, I planted myself and waited for someone to come and get us out - hoping that would be sooner rather than later. Despite the alarms, I didn’t smell any smoke. That was good. Becoming a cooked turkey as this box slowly turned into an oven wasn’t my idea of fun. Chances were, it was just some electrical glitch that was causing all of this crap.
My unwilling companion eventually settled down too, and I gave him some bullshit story about chasing off a would-be burglar when he’d shown up - including how I freaked out and took him hostage by mistake. Thankfully, he was from out of town and seemed to buy it. He didn't bother asking any of the obvious questions, like why we’d been headed down to the basement. Gotta love tourists.
Fortunately, neither of us had a problem with claustrophobia, saving me the trouble of having to punch him out. So, we did what most people would do in a situation like that - we sat down and bullshitted as we waited for rescue.
The Tome of Bill (Book 5): Goddamned Freaky Monsters Page 17
