Low-Skilled Job [Vol. 2]

by Roger Keller

  “Of course they are,” Marcello said.

  “They’re pink,” Misty said. Smoke curled up from Misty’s fingers. “Shit, it burns.”

  Marcello laughed and handed Heather a small Browning pistol. Misty put the necklace in her pocket and blew on her fingers.

  “Who paid you with this?” Heather pointed the Browning at the wall. “It looks like it was blown up.”

  “The owner barely escaped,” Marcello said. “You can see where his fingerprints were melted into the grip.”

  “What am I supposed to do with this?” Heather said.

  “The owner is one of the vampires who is moving against Lee,” Marcello said.

  “Right.” Heather said. “I get it.” She brushed her claws over the box. “I want some jewelry too.”

  “Help yourself.” Marcello smiled, his black eyes sparkling.

  Heather picked out an emerald ring.

  “How am I supposed to wear that thing if it burns?” Misty said.

  “You’ll want to work up a tolerance for pure metals,” Heather said. “It takes a while.”

  “What about me?” I said.

  Marcello motioned to the box. “Take your pick.”

  “I was thinking about something else,” I said as Marcello’s high proof booze started to get on top of me.

  “Yes,” Marcello said, smiling ghoulishly.

  “I think, I might want to live forever,” I said swaying on my feet, “like all of you.”

  Marcello pointed to Miranda. She nodded.

  “Give me your hand,” she said.

  “Really.” I dropped down into a chair. Miranda knelt next to me.

  Miranda examined my palm. Her soft fingers sent a shiver through me.

  “No fuckin’ way,” Heather said.

  “That actually works?” I said.

  Miranda’s eyes narrowed. She bit her lip, stood and hurried toward the door.

  “What’s the problem,” I said. Miranda kept walking. “Hey, what’s wrong.”

  “Whoa,” Misty said.

  I looked at Marcello, not knowing what to do. Miranda returned a few seconds later. She clutched her robe together with one hand and held a leather pouch with the other. She sat and shook the pouch out on a small table. A dozen yellow bones clattered over the table like dice and came to rest by a crystal brandy container.

  “You will live a long time, lifetimes in fact. You, you will be immortal.” Miranda sighed and gathered up the bones. “Anything else I cannot say. The vision is clouded.”

  “Oh, come on,” Heather said. “I bet you saw way more than that.”

  Miranda flashed Marcello a stern look and stood. She left without saying another word.

  “There are those who would pay a small fortune for what you just experienced,” Marcello said.

  “I’ll bet,” I said. “You know, there’s a million different ways I could interpret that shit. I mean, I could live forever as a-”

  “Do not overthink it,” Marcello said. “Madness lies down that road.”

  I looked over at Heather and Misty. “I think it’s time to get going.”

  Chapter 4

  I slipped Marcello’s flask into my jacket on the way out of his mansion.

  “You know,” Heather said as we walked to the Suburban, “when Marcello realizes that thing’s gone, he’s just going to like, summon us back here.”

  “I don’t care,” I said, trying not to fall over.

  “You will when you sober up,” Heather said.

  Misty opened the passenger door and jumped in.

  “Yeah, maybe,” I said. “You know, I’m kinda hoping it’s a magic flask that refills itself every day.”

  Heather smirked and sped past me, plucking the keys out of my hand. She hopped into the driver’s seat of the Suburban.

  “You’re in back this time,” Heather said. “You need to rest. And while you do, I want you to think about those fuckers sneaking around my town.”

  She handed me the Browning. I cleared the chamber and ejected the magazine. There were three greenish, corroded rounds left.

  I hit the flask again and climbed into the Suburban. Heather and Misty talked about the exorcism while we drove away from Marcello’s house. Everything was weirder there at night. The windmills were all stopped at the same position, like a bunch of x’s. I saw a ghostly green light glowing near the wreckage of the 707.

  “Don’t even want to know,” I muttered to myself.

  I set the Browning on the seat next to me and shut my eyes.

  *****

  Marcello’s booze fueled my nightmares. A jumble of images flashed past me, Heather and Misty embraced in a dark room. Back at Marcello’s mansion, Miranda made a nude, blood sacrifice to her goddess. I stopped at a room full of federal agents in official pullovers. The walls were covered with pictures. Heather’s black and white mugshot occupied a place of importance. The grainy picture showed a still human, teenage girl, her wicked smile captured forever. Another picture depicted The Society’s art deco temple. Then I saw a blown up copy of my drivers license. Oh fuck.

  There were pictures of other vampires who I’d never seen before. The pictures were connected with pieces of string, just like a mafia movie. Another picture showed a high-school aged Heather posing with a MAC-10. She wore 70’s style shorts and a tied off shirt, like one of Charlie’s Angels. Her dark blonde hair was tied back in a ponytail.

  The scene shifted. A dozen vampires in pinstripe suits stood around some Depression era Ford sedans. They were all heavily armed. I saw Thompson guns, a .35 Remington rifle, some BARs and a lightweight German Maxim gun. The lightweight Maxim was only light when compared to the massive tripod mounted killing machines that dominated the Western Front. It was usually issued to extra large stormtroopers, not the short vampire that carried it. Extra belts of ammunition crisscrossed the little guy’s chest. Another vampire, this one wearing a foundry worker’s uniform, readied two flamethrowers. Lee was there, also in a pinstripe suit, with a Thompson gun and a custom 1911. His black hair was cut short. And he was the only one not wearing a hat.

  The scene faded and I found myself looking over a classically decorated room complete with statues and polished marble. Hundreds of vampires milled around a stone table. They were dressed in the finest Roaring Twenties fashions, the kind rich folks would wear while slumming at a speakeasy. The elders argued with each other. Some of the vampires brandished swords and other medieval weapons. A flapper-girl held up a Chinese Jian. Chaos was in the air.

  A black-robed elder rose and smoothed back his yellowish white hair. He raised his hands to quiet the mob. Everyone seemed to calm down, swords were sheathed, and all eyes were on the elder. Everything seemed fine, until the big wooden doors behind him exploded into splinters.

  The Maxim gunner was the first one in, sweeping the big gun back and forth. Spent shells rained on the floor around his feet. Vampires were knocked back by a wall of 8mm bullets. The gunner laughed maniacally while he blasted through belt after belt of ammunition. He didn’t let up until the gun overheated and jammed with five rounds left in it’s final belt.

  Lee’s men poured in on either side of the Maxim gunner, firing as soon as they got in the room. They used their weapons like pros, aiming and using short controlled bursts. Vampires moved at inhuman speed, trying to avoid the bullets. Lee and his men moved just as fast. It all appeared to me as a confused blur, with vampire hitmen not even slowing down to re-load. The foundry worker strolled into the room last, his flamethrower ready to go.

  Wounded vampires littered the floor, writhing in pain. Almost no one had escaped. The flapper-girl drug herself behind the stone table. Her Jian had been shattered by one of the rifle bullets. A bleeding, brown haired vampire took her in his arms. He was dressed like some kind of librarian, complete with wire rim glasses. They huddled together. The flapper offered her throat to her lover. He accepted.

  “Halt.” Lee raised his hand. “Conserve your ammunition.”

>   The elder stood. His left arm hung from his shoulder by frayed tendons. Exiting bullets had torn the back of his robe to pieces. No blood dripped from his wounds.

  “You lunatic.” The elder pointed at Lee with his right hand. “You’ve broken-”

  “I’ve faced armies, Campbell,” Lee said. “Did you think those freaks could stop me? I had to burn my own house.” Lee looked away for a second. “Now it will be your turn.” Lee drew a Webley revolver from his suit coat. “This seems an appropriate weapon for the ruling class. It belonged to an English nobleman, who I met one night in No Man’s Land.”

  Lee shot forward and stopped in front of Campbell. He pressed the Webley’s barrel against the elder’s forehead. The realization that he’d lost everything sunk in and Campbell shut his eyes. Lee pulled the trigger.

  The Librarian kissed the Flapper and drew a familiar small Browning pistol. They tensed up, ready to run for it.

  The Maxim gunner shouldered the second flamethrower, while Lee and the others stalked around the room, shooting the wounded vampires in the head. This was Lee being merciful, scrambling their brains before the fire.

  The Librarian picked up the Flapper with one arm and ran for the door. Three wounded elders, a male and two females, made their move at the same time. One of the females was dressed in a man’s suit, her hair buzzed short on the sides. She took the other female’s hand and they ran. Their unnaturally rapid movements were off and they stumbled towards the opposite entrance to the one that Lee had blasted open. The male joined them a second later.

  “Incinerate them,” Lee said to the foundry worker.

  The Librarian aimed his little Browning and shot Lee three times in the chest. Lee didn’t even flinch.

  “Warn the others.” The Librarian shouted at the surviving elders as they ran.

  They got out before the Foundry Worker shot across the room and opened up with his flamethrower. The fourth round from the Browning hit the Foundry Worker in the head. The .32 caliber bullet slowed the Foundry Worker down long enough for the Librarian to slip out with the Flapper. The Foundry Worker recovered, shook his bleeding head, and sent a stream of liquid fire through the door after them.

  “Leave them go,” Lee said. “When Campbell burns, our vengeance will be complete. Now fall back and let the fire do it’s work.”

  Lee rose into the air and floated backwards to the ruined door. He surveyed the room while his men hurried to join him. Paintings hung crooked from bullet scarred walls. Even the marble statues had been shot to pieces.

  “Now,” Lee said.

  Hundreds of wounded vampires, their brains destroyed by steel jacketed lead, twitched and moved instinctively. The flamethrowers lit everything up from floor to ceiling. Plaster sloughed off the walls as the wood behind it caught fire. Dying vampires writhed in mindless pain. Lee’s men shrunk back from the boiling flames, shocked by how fast the fire had spread.

  The scene faded with Lee staring into the flames. He was smiling.

  Something began to pull me back to the real world, slowly at first. The feeling that I had forgotten something overwhelmed everything.

  I saw a flash from the present before it all ended. The Librarian crept past pre-housing bubble mansions, barely visible in the pitch darkness. He checked his hair, probably still annoyed that hats had gone out of style. The Librarian paused at a mansion and scoffed at it’s lawn gnome collection, before slithering through an open window.

  *****

  Heather was shaking me when I woke up. The Browning was still in my hand. I looked around, confused and angry. We were stopped at a gas station just off the interstate.

  “Good thing you took the clip out.” Misty pushed the Browning away from her face.

  “Did you see anything good?” Heather said.

  “Yeah,” I said.

  “Like what?” Heather cocked her head.

  “Well, Lee seems to be a lot scarier than I initially thought,” I said. “Also, I know the street the Librarian’s staying on.”

  “The who?” Heather said.

  “One of the vampires who survived Lee’s massacre,” I said. “I’m guessing it’s a good place to start.”

  “We need to see Lee first,” Heather said.

  “Good luck with that,” I said. “So, just how many vampires at Lee’s place wanted to kill me last time?”

  “Hundreds,” Heather said without missing a beat, “but most of them were just scared. There were like, maybe five of them that could actually hurt us. And, you’re stronger now. I mean hell, you just killed a fucking wizard.”

  “I don’t think Cain is actually dead,” I said.

  “He’s not,” Misty said, kneeling in the seat next to me, “not dead like we know it, anyway.”

  “Can’t we just meet Lee somewhere?” I said. “Like your place, maybe?”

  “I wanna see Lee’s mansion,” Misty said.

  I took a look around the gas station. It was beginning to fill up with early morning travelers.

  “Yeah, I’ve been thinking about that,” Heather said. “Most of the vampires who hang out with Lee are assholes and posers. Dominique was nice because she was scared of us.”

  Misty made a pouty face.

  “We’ll go there eventually, but let’s wait ‘till things calm down.” Heather reached past me and squeezed Misty’s shoulder. “Mike’s right. I’ll get Lee to come to my house.”

  I fished Marcello’s flask out of my jacket.

  “Wait, why was Dominique scared of us?” Misty said.

  A young human couple walking past us and picked up their pace, almost running to their car. They stared at us the whole way.

  “Because we showed up in her town like an army,” I said.

  “Yeah, with a vampire hunter,” Misty said.

  I took a swig of Marcello’s engine block cleaner and winced.

  “Yeah, yeah, we’re all pretty scary,” Heather said. “Now let’s get back home. We got alotta shit to do.”

  *****

  I woke up in Heather’s lair not remembering how I got there. Misty stared at me, while she perched on Heather’s coffee table.

  “You sensed me coming,” she said. “You were dead asleep, the TV didn’t even wake you up. Then I got close and you were up like that. Wow.”

  Misty wore a pair of khaki shorts and a Misfits t-shirt that had been cropped to show off her abs. Her feet were bare. Dark red toe claws dug into the coffee table.

  “You were watching me sleep, huh?” I sat up and rubbed my eyes. “What time us it?” I looked around Heather’s lair basement lair. The three huge flat screens Heather had set provided the only light. Misty had news websites up on the right and left screen. A late Nineties, teen comedy played on the center. The re-purposed plastic coffins were still by the stairs. “And where’s Heather?”

  “It’s 8:30,” Misty said. “Heather woke up early and went to Lee’s. You know he doesn’t have a phone, any phone, even a landline. He just uses email, but he hardly ever checks it. That’s fuckin’ weird.” Misty made a face. She was genuinely appalled. “They can talk to each other psychically you know, but she’s going all the way out there. She said it’s best to talk to him in person.”

  Misty leapt off the table and landed next to me. The couch barely moved.

  “I had this dream,” she said. “You were there. I saw Lee’s house, the one they rebuilt inside a factory. There’s no way I would’ve imagined something that weird. Anyway, you killed everybody, except me. All I can remember was the mansion burning behind us, and Lee. He has long black hair and he’s really tall, right?”

  “Yeah,” I said.

  “He was shot to pieces,” she said. “He had a weird, old pistol, like something Sherlock Holmes used a hundred years ago.”

  “You know, you’re really adapting to this, ah, situation pretty well,” I said. “None of this seems to be freaking you out.”

  “Why would it?” Misty said. “I always knew I’d be here someday.” She twis
ted herself into the lotus position, arched her back and stretched. “You cut Lee’s head off with an axe. He kept saying it wasn’t his fault. There were headless vampires all over the place. I was the only one there that you didn’t kill. Why?”

  “Where was Heather in your dream?” I said, thankful I couldn’t remember mine.

  “Um, I don’t know,” she said. “The whole thing just made me feel really bad and lonely.” Misty looked away. “They killed her, in the dream. I get it. Then, you went nuts and killed everybody for revenge.”

  Misty slumped against my shoulder and groaned.

  “You think she’ll be OK?” she said.

  “She usually is,” I said. “This dream might have just been in your head.”

  “Really?” she said.

  “I don’t know,” I said.

  “I used to love watching this movie when I was a kid,” Misty said. “I had a VHS player and an old TV that my parents let me have in my room. I could play the same tapes over and over. Watching it now, well, it kinda sucks.”

  “It happens,” I said. “Things change.”

  *****

  It was five to midnight when Heather returned. She brought Lee. He was shirtless and dressed in leather pants, like a vampire Jim Morrison. Lee slung a black leather jacket over his shoulder and had his free arm around Heather. I rolled my eyes. Heather wore her standard heavy metal gear, leather biker jacket and ragged jeans. She wore my SOG knife on her studded belt all the time now. I stared at her while she walked down the stairs, trying to see something through the holes in her clothes, like I was fourteen again.

  The way Misty watched Lee come down the steps you would’ve thought he was some kind of movie star. Lee locked on to her and strode over like he owned the place. Misty glanced at Heather. The air around her rippled and she nodded back at Misty.

  “You must be Misty,” Lee said. He took her hand and kissed it. “Let’s hope you have better luck than Heather’s other, ill advised apprentices.”

  “Did, did it ever happen to you, that someone you changed got out of control?” Misty said.

  Lee’s face fell, then he smiled. He looked back at Heather. “It has happened a few times.”