Low-Skilled Job [Vol. 2]

by Roger Keller

  I ran past classic cars, most of which I couldn’t name until I got to the ones from the Sixties. Some of them were damaged by crashes or gunfire. I stopped at a Buick Grand National, which some sick clown had painted metallic purple.

  “Motherfucker,” I said, making a mental note to ask Lee for the defaced car.

  I wheezed and slowed as I passed countless, assorted wooden crates, steel boxes, and decaying totes. Four garbage trucks idled in front of Lee’s house, pumping obnoxious diesel smoke into the air. Karla directed the clean up crew. Vampires and terrified humans loaded the trucks. The humans wore Sheriff’s department uniforms. Lee handed one of them a briefcase. The deputy nodded and didn’t bother counting his payoff.

  The Deputies heard me coming and I found myself looking down a half dozen gun barrels. “Freeze, motherfucker.”

  “That’s one of my men,” Lee said. “Karla will show you where he left the others.”

  “How many more, Mr. Stoner?” a deputy with sergeant stripes on his sleeve said.

  “Well?” Lee pointed at me.

  “Sixteen,” I said, looking around at the macabre spectacle. Misty picked up a charred head and tossed it into one of the trucks like a basketball. Black liquid dripped out of trucks, pooling around the tires. A crew of vampires pushed brooms across the floor, making a pile of shell casings, unidentifiable fragments and small body parts.

  “There, you see.” Lee patted the sergeant’s shoulder making him jump. “You’ll be done in no time.”

  “Yeah, then I’m taking a long vacation,” the sergeant said.

  “Don’t stay away too long, Hank,” Karla said. “I’d hate to have to go looking for you.”

  Hank’s grip on the briefcase tightened. Karla smiled wickedly.

  “Come.” Karla said. “And put away your guns. The battle is over. You’re about as safe as humans can be in this place,” she tilted her head down and showed her teeth, “provided you keep your part of the bargain.”

  The deputies followed Karla across the mill floor. They looked like a bunch of scared school kids trailing after their teacher through a haunted house.

  Lee appeared behind me. “The ones who retreated, some wore uniforms.” He dropped a manila envelope full of hundred dollar bills in my open hand. “There was a woman who wore a particularly unusual uniform. I trust you dealt with all of them.”

  “Of course,” I said, turning around. “The woman said that she was part of Octavio Spada’s vanguard. Whatever that means.”

  “I suspected as much,” Lee said and crossed his arms. “I recognized his colors on some of the more competent fighters. He rules a city just north of here.”

  “Ya know, I think that cop had the right idea,” I said. “It’s about time for a vacation.”

  “Yes, I suppose you’ve earned it,” he said, rubbing his chin. “Take Heather and her adorable apprentice and, go someplace.”

  “Then what?” I said.

  Misty popped up at Lee’s side, her hands and face covered with black soot from the incinerated vampires. Lee patted her head.

  “It’s almost all loaded into the trucks,” she said, looking up at Lee like he was a god.

  “Excellent,” Lee said. “Soon everything will be back go normal. The trick is to make sure things stay that way.”

  Oh shit. I went to rub my eyes, but stopped. My hands were covered with dried blood.

  “You’re sending all, that, “I said, “to a landfill.”

  “The deputies will burn it first, naturally,” Lee said.

  “Whatever,” I said. “Not my problem.”

  My eyes were drawn to the house. Heather stood at the landmine destroyed doors. She looked left and right, then took off into the air. I looked up but couldn’t see her. Lee and Misty didn’t bother. Heather landed between them without a sound.

  “Are you feeling better?” Heather said in a soft, motherly voice. She opened Lee’s black, silk shirt and examined the fading wounds.

  “Of course.” Led brushed her hair back and tilted her head up. “I faced real armies when I was human. These pikers were nothing but a small nuisance.”

  “Sure they were.” Heather smiled crookedly.

  Lee kissed her, and she kissed back. Misty smiled at them. I looked away and pretended to watch the garbage trucks as they compacted the defeated vampires into an unholy mush.

  “I think it’s time for the three of you to take a break,” Lee said. “I will summon you when I’ve figured things out.”

  “I, we can help fix up the house,” Heather said.

  “Yes you can,” Lee said, “if by fix up my house, you mean destroy it while fighting with Kristen and Karla.”

  “I won’t kill them.” Heather giggled and looked down. “I didn’t kill those bitches before. And like, I could have, easily.”

  “Oh, I know that,” Lee said.

  “Come on.” Heather waved her arm as she headed off across the mill floor. “Let’s go like, do something.”

  “Until the next time,” Lee said.

  Chapter 10

  Jorge waved at us as we left. I scanned the parking lot. A lucky deputy watched the area from his unmarked car and sipped an energy drink. We tossed our weapons into Heather’s Suburban like they were a bunch of dusty sports equipment. A gray-suited federal agent stood next to the deputy’s car and made nervous small talk. Heather flipped the them both off when the deputy took down our license plate number.

  *****

  I drove away from the old mill, tapping my hands on the wheel to Heather’s Megadeth CD. A group of empty panel vans and SUVs sat abandoned in a nearby parking lot.

  “Looks like their owners aren’t coming back,” Heather said.

  “Yeah,” I said.

  “Pull over there,” Heather said. “Let’s see if they left anything good. We have like, all night.”

  I parked behind two of the panel vans and drug myself out of the Suburban. Fatigue was setting in. When did I sleep last?

  Misty fast-walked over to a black Chevy Tahoe and used the tips of her claws to shatter the tinted windows.

  I pointed at a white panel van that looked like something a plumber would drive. “How ‘bout this one?”

  Heather slid the door open. It was full of boxes and wooden crates. Each one was marked with shipping warnings and explosives symbols. She sliced open a cardboard box with her claws.

  “Ammunition,” she said. “It’s mine now.”

  Misty burst through the rear window of the Tahoe and landed on all fours amid a shower of glass. She held up a tablet.

  “That’s all,” Heather said.

  “I know,” Misty said. “But it might have something secret on it.”

  “Good point,” Heather said.

  I pulled open the second panel van while Misty played with the tablet. The van’s cargo area was full of multi-colored flags and pennants.

  “Looks like they were going to have a parade,” I said.

  “Ha, they should have brought that stuff after they won,” Heather said. “We’ll leave these for Lee.”

  The tablet sizzled and smoked in Misty’s hands. Her eyes glowed orange while she tapped away at the screen. Then the tablet’s plastic cover caught fire.

  “Fuck.” Misty threw the burning tablet on the pavement. “I almost had it.”

  Misty stalked off to check the other vehicles. Heather put her arms around my neck and kissed me.

  “Did you think of anything good to say?” she said.

  “About what?” I said.

  “Jerk.” She pushed me playfully. “I’m not letting this drop.”

  Glass shattered behind us as Misty broke into another SUV. My eyes were drawn to a moving, shifting shadow near the front of the panel van.

  “I can see you,” I said. “What do you want?”

  Heather growled. The vampire stood and the haze around her lifted. I recognized her. She still wore her hair flapper-short. Nicole held up an open, clawless hand. I drew my Beretta.
r />   “How’s it going,” I said, “Nicole.”

  “Impossible,” she said. “How do you…”

  “Let’s waste her,” Heather said. “She’s not one of Lee’s.”

  “I’m not one of anyone’s,” she said. “And how could you possibly know my name? I must admit that a vampire hunter knowing my face is terrifying.”

  “I saw you in a vision,” I said. “You were there when Lee wiped out the elders”

  “Then you understand why I had to come,” Nicole said. “I am not part of the expeditionary force.”

  “Sure you’re not,” I said.

  “She isn’t lying,” Misty said, appearing behind her.

  “Oh shit,” Nicole said, stepping to the side, looking for an opening. “Look, I’m just passing through, sort of. There is still a code, isn’t there?”

  “Sort of,” Heather said, “but we kind of just had a war.”

  “I guess the expeditionary force didn’t do very well,” Nicole said.

  “No they didn’t,” I said. “Your boyfriend didn’t make it either.”

  “Who?” she said.

  “The Librarian, the guy who escaped from Lee with you,” I said. “I got him early on.”

  Nicole sighed. “Lawrence, I haven’t seen him since Gerald Ford was president. I heard he was involved in this. Poor fellow, never could get over what happened.” She cracked her neck and stretched her shoulders. “I had hoped to stop him, more out of nostalgia than anything else. Things like this never end well. Especially not these days.”

  Heather circled Nicole and pulled her wool coat back. “You’re not much of a fighter.” Heather pointed at the polished, ebony handled dagger hung from the ex-flapper’s belt.

  “I never was,” she said “Well, if you’re not going to kill me, then I suppose…”

  “Yeah, yeah, get the fuck out of here,” Heather said.

  “One question, if I may,” Nicole said. “A vampire named Karla kept a house in this city. She left before the massacre.”

  “Of course she did.” Heather threw up her arms. “She lives here now, with Lee. Though if you want to hang out with her, or maybe kill her I hope, I’d wait ‘till things cool off.”

  Nicole smiled. “Well, it was nice meeting you.” Shadows swirled around her and she faded away.

  “Cool trick,” Heather said.

  “Should we tell Lee about her?” Misty said.

  “If she’s this close,” Heather said, “then he already knows. Besides, Lee wants us to go on some kind of stupid vacation.”

  I grabbed a crate of 9mm ammunition and lugged it over to the Suburban. Heather and Misty shot past me a few times carrying armloads of loot. They had the Suburban packed by the time I got there with my case.

  I started feeling dizzy and sat down on my ammo crate. Heather looked at me funny.

  “You OK?” she said.

  “Yeah,” I said “I’ve just been pushing it too hard. I just…”

  The dead industrial park melted away.

  *****

  The vision came on like a freight train rolling into my head. I saw hundreds of uniformly dressed corporate suits milling around a lavishly decorated boardroom on the executive floor of a skyscraper. Outside the sun set on a gentrified European city. Ugly crass architecture grew everywhere, like cancer devouring the old world stone. Structures that had survived World Wars now fell to a booming real estate market.

  The suits made nervous small talk as a group of mercenaries in tactical gear filed in. The mercs took up positions around the room. They carried SIG assault rifles and a lot of spare magazines in the latest tactical gear.

  I picked up on a conversation between a group of younger executives, who seemed to blur together in their corporate uniforms like faceless soldiers. They talked, without really listening to each other. English seemed to be a universal language for the suits, or maybe I only perceived it as English.

  “I don’t know anyone who’s actually seen him,” a nervous Brit said.

  “He can’t really be that old,” an Italian voice said. “I mean they say he fought in World War Two, for the Fascists. Impossible.”

  “I’ve heard it’s a title,” a Spanish woman said. “Every few years they elect a new duke. I suppose we’ll get to meet the latest one.”

  “I know of stranger rituals,” a German man said, pausing to sip from a champagne flute. “The Atlanta branch has a barbecue out in the country where they blow up an iron anvil with dynamite. The anvil flies straight up in the air and lands with a great crash, mostly undamaged. Then there is much cheering and celebratory gunfire.”

  The other suits stared dumbfounded at the German.

  “Why?” the Spanish woman finally said.

  “I never asked,” the German said “This is my point, it is wise not to ask,” he pointed at the mercs, “when there are men with guns about.”

  “You are so right, my friend,” an African man said. “But, I assure you all, the Duke is quite real. My family going back five generations served him. If half of what I have heard is true…”

  Another group, this one made up of more senior executives stood around the head of the conference table. They were the kind of jerks that never seem to age, their white hair never thinning, eyesight never fading. Inside though, they were as corrupt as a mass grave.

  “I met him when he returned, back in 1968,” a Frenchman said.

  “We had a hell of a time pulling that off.” An American held up a glass of wine. “Greatest mass sacrifice since the war.”

  The group murmured in approval and raised their glasses.

  A set of gold and smoked glass doors opened and the suits turned, snapping to attention like soldiers. Six men in well-worn tactical gear walked into the boardroom. These mercs had shaggy hair, five-o’clock shadows, and blunt claws, just like Hector. They carried knives and handguns, but didn’t bother with assault rifles. Why would they? Their weapons were just a convenience. I knew somehow that they weren’t old enough or strong enough to shape shift like Hector. Still, no normal human would stand a chance against them.

  The werewolf-mercs leered at the room full of helpless suits. Two nearly identical female vampires entered the room next. They wore black blazers and skirts that sort of clashed with the studded leather S&M cuffs around their wrists and throats. They wore their blonde hair in ponytails. The twins appeared to be about sixteen or seventeen years old, at least that was their age when they were changed. The werewolves edged back warily and gave them space.

  The younger suits gawked at the bizarre, uncorporate sight. Darkness as thick and real as a brick wall swirled between the female vampires.

  “This must be some kind of show.” The Spanish woman let out a nervous laugh.

  The boardroom lights dimmed. Duke DeVoss appeared between the female vampires. He was still obnoxiously good looking in his perfectly tailored black suit. His face was no longer bullet scarred. The Duke carried a cane, which I was pretty sure contained a hidden sword. It’s ivory and gold grip was shaped just like scimitar’s handle.

  The crowd of suits saluted their master. Some bowed. Some held a fist over their hearts like Romans. Others held up their right hand Nazi style, or just saluted like modern soldiers. No one seemed sure what was proper.

  DeVoss waved a clawed hand and smiled. The scene faded just as he began his speech.

  Next I found myself standing by a swimming pool full of blood. A sprawling mansion surrounded the pool area. Candles lit the scene. Naked humans hung limp from archaic contraptions around the pool, the last of their blood dripping into metal troughs. Fortunately, I couldn’t smell anything in my vision, or see the drained bodies clearly. Vampires in bathing suits and willing human victims mingled. There were other things there that I couldn’t quite make out in the flickering light. DeVoss’ twin slavegirls strolled by, nude except for their leather cuffs and dog collars. Their pale bodies were covered with tattoos of esoteric symbols. Duke DeVoss stood rigid in a silk robe, staring
at the pool.

  “That much blood must have cost you a fortune.” A topless female vampire appeared next to him.

  DeVoss shrugged and looked her up and down, pausing at her large breasts. Her bone white body was splattered with dried blood. “I care nothing for money, Steffi.”

  Steffi brushed back her long black hair. “Neither do I.” She ran her fingers over DeVoss’ chest.

  DeVoss’ eyes widened. He looked right at me and pushed Steffi aside.

  “Looks like you’re the only one who can see me again,” I said with a shrug.

  “Oh, yes.” Duke DeVoss’ claws grew. His eyes lit up cherry red, like steel under a blacksmith’s hammer.

  Steffi looked around confused. “What…”

  The party guests, vampires, humans and other, stared at the Duke. Their host seemed to be talking to himself.

  “Well, old friend,” he said, “I take it you survived the war. Myself, I was betrayed in Berlin.” His eyes narrowed. “How is it that you remain so young? You’re no OSS man. What the hell are you? I feel nothing when…”

  “Now would be a great time to end this,” I said.

  “You’re some kind of hunter,” DeVoss said. “Am I to be your next target? Do you think you are the first to see visions of my magnificence? In the Seventies I killed a hunter every month.”

  I concentrated, trying to force the vision to end. I remembered Marcello’s warning about things in my visions following me back home.

  “I don’t know where you are, or when you are,” DeVoss said, with grim conviction that sent his unholy party guests back a few more steps. “Mark me, if you exist in the present or future, I will find you. I will destroy you first.”

  “Good luck with that, asshole,” I said as the scene faded away.

  *****

  I looked around, happy to see the dead industrial park. Heather was crouched next to me.

  “What was that one about?” she said.

  “Dominique’s brother,” I said.

  “The Nazi?” Heather said. “I thought she said some kinda monster got him at the end of World War Two.”