The Tome of Bill (Book 5): Goddamned Freaky Monsters

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The Tome of Bill (Book 5): Goddamned Freaky Monsters Page 30

by Rick Gualtieri


  “Don’t mind them. Stress tends to make them stupid.”

  “So I see,” James replied dryly. “Sadly, no. My chambers had already been compromised and ransacked. Thankfully, most of the damage was to my material possessions - nothing critical. My personal files are all heavily encrypted. The one advantage we seem to still have,” he said with a ghost of a smile, “is that our foe is likely not adept when it comes to technology.”

  “Hulk smash!” I chuckled, then left them to discuss things. I turned to Ed. “Now would be a good time.”

  “Fuck that. Twenty minutes ago would have been a good time.”

  “Twenty minutes ago, everything seemed hunky dory. Now, are we gonna argue about this?”

  He gave his head a quick shake and began fishing around in his pocket.

  “Now’s probably not the time to play with yourself,” Dave said.

  Ed raised his other hand in an obscene gesture, then cried out, “Fuck!”

  “What?”

  “It’s gone. I must’ve lost it when Ozymandias over there was playing sack of potatoes with me,” he replied, referring to James by the moniker we’d first known him under.

  “Goddamn it.”

  “What about yours?”

  “Didn’t survive me getting thrown into that tree back in Norfolk.”

  “What are you fucking idiots whining about now?” Sally spun to face us. “Did you forget to tape the latest episode of Star Trek? Because I swear, if it’s something stupid like...”

  Her voice trailed off as the hum of machinery filled the night air, followed by the scrape of metal against metal.

  We turned to find the blast doors lowering back into the earth.

  Oh shit. I guess that answered the question as to the fate of our missing Prefect.

  * * *

  I half expected a strike force to come pouring out of the opening, guns at the ready. That would have been bad. Instead, the doors lowered to reveal Chuck’s lone form.

  That was worse.

  His stance spoke of a confidence that said we were little more than bugs to him - gnats to be swatted.

  The thing about gnats, though, is they bite.

  “Think fast!” It was Sally. She’d popped open that duffle bag of hers, the one she infuriatingly refused to put down, and pulled out the guns we’d stored inside. Okay, so maybe her newfound OCD wasn’t entirely a bad thing.

  Chuck raised an unconcerned eyebrow as she distributed the weapons. He’d seen what they could do and had come to the apparent conclusion that they weren’t any more than an annoyance...either that or he was a fucking dumbass. I found myself hoping for the latter, but wasn’t quite ready to put my life savings down on that bet.

  Even so, the last time had just been me alone - albeit with a very high-powered handgun. The thing being, I’m an admitted suck shot. Nothing had changed in that regard except for the fact that my friends now joined me, some of whom happened to have a knack for hitting whatever they aimed at. I was fairly certain that smug grin would be erased in the few seconds between now and when his head got properly ventilated.

  “Stand down,” James said quietly.

  Dave was still fiddling with his weapon, some sort of Uzi variant. “Bill, if you don’t mind me asking - who the fuck is this guy and why is he batshit crazy?”

  “Um...” I stepped between them. “Don’t mind him, James. He’s new. Hasn’t watched the orientation video yet.” I spun back to my DM. “Trust me, you really want to shut the fuck up now.”

  James ignored us, though. The cultist had stepped forward, his muscles rippling in the night air. Once more, these two powerhouses sized each other up. I had a feeling there would be no distractions this time. They aimed to settle this. The past versus the present with the fate of...well, actually, I had no idea what was on the line. As Sally had said, the Draculas could probably just converge on this place with all the power at their disposal and reduce it to rubble.

  Of course, that assumed the Draculas knew what was going on.

  But they had to. As much as I might’ve thought myself clever, I had little doubt Alex would eventually figure out a trophy from his head collection was missing. It wouldn’t exactly take a master sleuth to deduce it had gone AWOL at the same time as me.

  Of course, that brought other questions to mind, especially, what this guy was doing in Alex’s boudoir to begin with. James seemed to be of the mindset that fuckers like Chuck had been toasted long ago and weren’t a part of the general head prison populace.

  “Whoever this guy is,” Sally said, sidling up alongside me, “you may want to ask him about his workout.”

  “Really?”

  “What? Just because he’s an evil psychopath doesn’t mean I can’t look.”

  “Maybe I’ll table the questions about his Pilates routine, if it’s all the same to you.” I lowered my voice to a bare whisper. “What’s the plan?”

  “The plan is to do as you are told,” James said. “Do not interfere.” He and the other vamp began to circle one another as the rest of us grouped up, weapons at the ready despite the warning.

  At last, James spoke to the brute, but of course it was in fucking Latin again. Goddamnit. I caught a few words I’d heard used before, but nothing that gave me much of a clue.

  “Any chance of a blow by blow, Sally?” I asked.

  “Pretty safe to say that you can count me out of anything that has to do with you and the word blow.”

  “Not helping.”

  “I’ll see what I can do, but I’m used to taking my sweet time with this stuff. I have a feeling these guys aren’t going to talk slowly just for us.”

  In that, though, she was wrong.

  The push of a compulsion tickled against my mind a split second before I heard it. As usual, the cultist’s words were meaningless to me, but the psychic aspect instantly translated them.

  “SO THE FIRST SEND A MERE SUCKLING AGAINST ME?!”

  There was no real force behind it. This was confirmed when neither Sally nor Dave were bowled over. The asshole was actually doing it for our benefit. He wanted an audience.

  I was actually impressed by the burn. I’d figured maybe this guy had been born in the days before trash talk had been invented. Guess the more things changed, the more they stayed the same.

  James, sadly, wasn’t interested in playing that game. His response was more of the same in that dead language that I was pretty sure nobody but priests and vamps spoke anymore.

  “He’s telling Muscles over there that if he surrenders now, the First might be merciful,” Sally said. “Or as near as I can tell.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Don’t mention it.”

  “I thought the First didn’t have mercy,” Ed said.

  “I’m pretty sure it’s the swift death kind of mercy,” she replied.

  “Oh.”

  “Who are the First?” Dave asked.

  “Shhhhh!”

  Based on the confidence the cultist showed, I was almost willing to bet that he wouldn’t blink.

  Thus, I was completely caught by surprise when he was the one who made the first mistake.

  * * *

  The two continued circling, trading more barbs - some of which we caught and some we didn’t. Chuck almost certainly kept compelling for our benefit, no doubt thinking that James was an easy mark and that he’d send us on our way with a warning for the rest - your basic super villain bullshit. Jeez, you’d think folks would be able to come up with some new material after a millennium or so.

  At one point in their posturing, the ox circled close to our position - his back to us. Sally’s finger twitched on her gun. It seemed she was tempted to plug this guy in the most unsportsmanlike manner possible - probably a little payback for Starlight. Can’t say I would have dissuaded her. However, she stayed her hand, no doubt because of James’s insistence this be a solo duel.

  I looked around to check out the rest of the parking lot and saw the telltale red glow of security
cameras. They were tracking the two combatants. Now it made sense. James was well aware that the others could have swarmed us, but no doubt their new master had forbid it. This was some sort of stupid honor thing going on between them - may the best man win. Well, fuck that. If these guys thought I wasn’t above a cheap shot to save my own ass, they were...

  Just then, Chuck glanced over his shoulder at us. His eyes landed upon me and narrowed. Apparently, my previously scheduled ass beating was unfinished, as far as he was concerned. He glossed over Dave and Sally, but then his gaze lingered on Ed. For a moment, there was no recognition on his face, but that was replaced with a look of confusion. He actually turned and lifted his head to sniff the air.

  How could he not...but then I realized that his attention had first been focused on me and then James at this place. He’d barely given Ed a second glance, when earlier he’d seemed focused on squashing him into paste. The reason was now obvious: Ed smelled less like himself and more like a pile of rotting Sasquatch guts.

  Now, the facade was falling apart. The cultist narrowed his eyes once more. Oh, shit.

  “Sally, give Ed your cell phone,” I said without moving my lips - trying not to provoke our foe, as if he were some sort of stray dog.

  “Why?”

  “Just do...”

  The words died in my throat as James became a blur of motion. Vampires have an interesting interpretation of fair duels - a very liberal one, if you will. Taking a swing at your foe when he was dumb enough to turn his back on you was considered fair game.

  All things considered, I could dig that.

  * * *

  James wasn’t dicking around either. In the split second it took to reach the cultist, his fangs and claws were bared for battle. Once more, I found myself glad not to be on the receiving end of his bad mood. The guy moved like the Flash with all the skill of Batman thrown in. Hell, if we all lived through this whole Sasquatch Apocalypse, he was my bet for vamp most likely to end up with his own comic book.

  For all the musclehead’s power, he was seemingly not all that when it came to actual battle. James swept his feet out from under him before he was even aware of it. He followed up with a massive elbow to the asshole’s sternum, which bounced him off the pavement like a fucking basketball.

  The big douche landed on his back with a heavy thud, the wind knocked out of him. It was a fatal mistake when fighting against a seasoned foe. Pity for him James was practically a ninja master - for real, maybe. I mean, the guy had spent a lot of time in Asia. Who knew what kind of badass fighting skills he’d honed over the centuries?

  Judging by how things were going, we weren’t going to find out in this fight. Claws at the ready, James slashed at Chuck’s throat - intent on once more separating this goon’s head from his freshly grown body. Hopefully, he had some of that special poison handy that kept a vamp’s severed parts from instantly ashing. I for one wouldn’t have minded playing a quick game of soccer with this asshole’s noggin once it was all over and done with.

  James’s claws dug deep into the cultist’s neck, drawing blood. Triumph shown in his eyes as he was about to...

  Without even realizing he’d moved, I saw Chuck’s hand close upon James’s wrist and yank his fingers from the wound he’d created. To my surprise, the bastard was actually smiling despite half his throat being ripped open.

  His arm gave the barest of twitches, followed by the sickening snap of bone. Judging from the grin he still wore, it wasn’t one of his.

  James gritted his teeth in pain and prepared to strike with his free hand, but it was the other vampire’s turn to show off. With a quick movement of his legs, he performed a kip-up and drove his fist into his opponent’s head as he rose.

  It appeared to be a casual blow, but James went flying across the parking lot as if he’d been shot from a catapult.

  The brute stretched, his joints cracking as if he’d just finished warming up. Before our eyes, the wounds on his throat closed until it was as if they’d never been made.

  Thankfully, James was no slouch in that department either. Standing and dusting himself off, he straightened out his broken wrist and tested the fingers. Their exchange would have left me sobbing for my mom, but both of the combatants now stood facing each other whole, as if their first clash hadn’t occurred at all.

  “Kinda like watching Wolverine fight Deadpool,” Ed muttered.

  “Sabretooth,” Dave corrected. “Definitely Sabretooth.”

  “I gotta concur,” I said.

  Sally eyeballed the three of us for a moment, pity in her eyes. “Goddamn, there’s another one of you dorks?”

  “We are legion,” I replied with a smirk before turning my full attention back to where it should’ve been.

  To my surprise, and immense relief, James’s face was calm - betraying not a hint of fear.

  “Tough guy,” Dave commented.

  “You have no idea,” Sally replied.

  “He will not cry, so I cry for him,” I added. Raising my voice, I called out, “You okay?” Both combatants turned toward me. “Not you, asshole!”

  “Way to live dangerously, Bill,” Sally said, taking a step away from me.

  “I am quite fine, Dr. Death,” James replied curtly. “Now if you would kindly allow me to concentrate.”

  “Oh, sorry.”

  Thankfully, Chuck seemed content with letting us finish our little discourse. He didn’t seem to be in a hurry - a fact that wasn’t particularly reassuring.

  He and James began to circle again, closer this time. My experience with actual combat training was limited, but I’d seen enough kung fu movies to conclude that their first clash had been little more than them feeling each other out - getting a sense of their opponent’s power.

  Considering the care with which both of them now moved, almost synchronized, I got the impression the main event was about to begin.

  “Place your wagers,” I muttered to nobody but myself.

  All of your hope fades as the Destroyer rises.

  “What the fuck was that?” Dave asked, looking around.

  “Isn’t there any way you can shut him up?”

  Sally shrugged and gave her bag a small kick. “Sorry, haven’t found the off switch yet.”

  I refocused on the fight. James and the Chuckster were now starting to tussle. It was like watching a sparring match. Each of the combatants threw a couple of quick blows, then feinted - no doubt in the hope of finding a weak spot.

  Punches and kicks were thrown only to be blocked again and again. It was almost choreographed in its elegance. As it continued, I began to wonder whether either of the two would make a mistake on which the other could capitalize.

  As it turns out, one of them did.

  Unfortunately for us, this time it was James who made it.

  * * *

  It wasn’t much, just a misstep, but Chuck’s next parry sent James ever so slightly off balance. My breath caught as I hoped he would recover quickly enough.

  The larger vamp stepped in and found an opening, throwing a blow to James’s midsection that nearly doubled him over. He followed up with his claws, raking my friend’s back and drawing blood.

  Oh, crap.

  James cried out in agony as his foe fell upon him, doing his best to block the attacks, but being slowly driven back.

  Despite his warning to stay out of the fight, I raised the weapon I held in my hands - a submachine gun, not unlike what Kurt Russell used in Big Trouble in Little China. “You were not brought upon this world to get it,” escaped my lips as I took aim.

  “Put it down.”

  “What?”

  “Lower it, dipshit,” Sally warned.

  “But...”

  “James is fine.”

  “No, he’s not, he’s...”

  But she was right.

  It was all an act. As the one-man brute squad stepped in to deliver a haymaker, James spun and responded with a crushing kick to the side of his knee. The crunch reverbera
ted in the night air. Ouch.

  Before Chuck could hit the pavement, James grabbed his arm and tossed him over his shoulder in some kind of super-powered judo throw, cracking the pavement with his opponent’s body. Double ouch.

  Just like that, the tables had turned and we...

  “Um, Bill...”

  “Yeah?” I replied, not really paying much attention to my roommate.

  “James might be fine, but I’m not so sure we are.”

  “What the hell are you...” And that’s when I noticed the shapes shambling in our direction from out of the darkness. “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”

  Dead Office Drones Walking

  I will admit a small part of me was disappointed. Every single zombie movie I’ve ever seen has had one thing in common: when the decaying hordes of the undead attack, they do so in massive numbers. I mean, outside of the stupid trend in the past couple of years of sprinting zombies, the whole concept is that they swarm you like fire ants. Otherwise, you could easily avoid them with a brisk walk.

  The three that lurched toward us weren’t exactly sending chills of terror down my spine. The only thing creepy about them was their silence. No moans or growls - just step after step.

  As they got closer, I could see the tattered remains of office wear. I had little doubt they were amongst the missing zombies from the Boston complex. The main question was still why were they out here feeding upon the denizens of Boston? I’d never seen them eat any...

  Well, okay, I really didn’t have any idea what the vamps fed them, if at all. I didn’t know much about them other than they had a knack for paperwork.

  “Who invited the stiffs?”

  “Don’t look at me,” I replied to Ed. “My dance card’s full.”

  The mystery of what these decaying assholes were doing would have to wait. We really didn’t need this distraction at the moment, what with James duking it out with Paul Bunyan over there.

  I strode toward the rotting assholes, intent on doing my part to keep this mess somewhat contained. “I got this.”

  Three shots rang out in the night, practically causing me to shit myself. Less than a second later, the zombies fell dead, or deader, to the ground - large chunks of their heads missing.

 

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