Allison grinned. People trusted the lock more than they trusted the door. The key was to not break the lock, but the find the weakest thing holding it in place.
She picked up the broken latch with the padlock secured on it and tossed it in a barrel sitting next to the door. Just because it was easy to break in didn’t mean it was okay to have the broken latch sitting in the street. With it hidden from sight, Allison was sure that the properly closed unlocked door would not draw any unnecessary attention.
Of course, Allison knew what she was doing was completely illegal. She had no warrant, and any probable cause she had from the encounter last night was foiled by her not reporting any of the events through the chain of command.
But Allison didn’t care about legalities at this point. She was not out for an arrest. She was out for blood.
When Allison entered the warehouse, she immediately saw the dead bodies. They were lined up, shoulder-to-shoulder in the corner. They were not necessarily hidden but rather in a place where they could not be seen from the windows around the warehouse. There were only six bodies total, but their condition was terrifying.
The bodies were gaunt and desiccated, as if they had been drained of all fluid or laid out in the hot sun. The flesh had receded from their mouths, exposing their gums and teeth in hideous death smiles. Their hands were contorted into claws, with the skin pulled back tight enough to twist the knuckles.
However, even more disturbing was the fact that, based on the imprints on the dirty floor, these bodies appeared to be the small number left behind, likely after the workers had fed on them. How many had been here before? Had it been a stack of human beings like so much firewood?
Allison also had a chance to see the layout of the room, which she could only glance through the window last night. Where she had noticed the army of newborns congregating, she found chicken-wire corrals which led to a greater holding pen. Humans stacked like firewood, and newborns herded like carnivorous cattle. There was room for dozens in there.
What was the Sieve planning?
Soon, Allison expanded her search to the warehouse office, but she found very little to go on. The Sieve was clearly not into paperwork. Most of the files she found were from the previous tenants, abandoned as the building now was.
However, Allison did stumble across a recent electric bill, which was addressed to Monarch Enterprises LLC. She carefully picked up the bill and slipped it in an evidence bag, just in case there was a way to pull vampire fingerprints from the paper. Which, of course, begs the question: do vampires even have fingerprints?
Allison then pulled out her phone and opened up a text to Georgia. She typed in: “Check for properties rented by Monarch Enterprises. Places with a lot of space. Maybe a basement? No windows.”
Allison pocketed her phone and looked at the exposed windows on the skylight. The sunlight was just barely creeping in any more, falling more on the walls than on the ground. Night was fast approaching.
And while Allison was pretty sure that the Sieve and his minions were long gone from this place, she did not want to stick around past sunset and verify that.
She turned and headed for the door, ignoring the line of dead bodies by the wall. There was nothing she could do for them now, and they would soon be discovered when they started to decompose. This was another reason why Allison didn’t want to hang around here any more. The last thing she needed would be to sit in the police station being questioned for being here.
She had better things to do, like planning the death of the Sieve.
Allison wasted no more time at the warehouse. Any more evidence about the Sieve and his operatives was either useless or ruined. Additionally, she didn’t want to be caught there by a police officer responding to the obvious break-in. Sure, this was a deserted warehouse in the Flats, but that didn’t mean that no one would notice anything suspicious.
† † †
Allison drove back to Georgia’s home, and as she pulled in the driveway, she saw the garage door slowly closing on Georgia’s car. Allison smiled. Georgia was back from shopping.
Allison parked in the driveway and entered the house. She didn’t bother to lock her car. They were in a safe neighborhood, after all, and petty car thieves were the least of her worries considering whatever the Sieve likely had planned for her.
But Allison didn’t care. She had plenty planned for the Sieve herself. Her only regret is that she knew she would have to dispatch him quickly. Allison wanted to make him suffer for the pain he had caused her. If she had her way, she would imprison him for the rest of his unnatural life, subjecting him to the worst torture she could conceive of... and in her mad state of revenge, Allison could imagine quite a lot.
Allison didn’t bother to knock on Georgia’s door. They were good enough friends, and she was expecting her to arrive shortly. Heck, Georgia probably noticed her pull up in the driveway as the garage door closed.
Sure enough, Georgia met her in the foyer.
“Hi hon,” Georgia said.
Allison nodded. “Did you get everything I asked for.”
Georgia smiled. “It wasn’t easy, but I got it all.”
“Even the flamethrower?”
“Even the flamethrower. That wasn’t even the biggest challenge. Those aren’t even illegal, you know?”
“They’re not?” Allison asked, honestly surprised. She realized that until now, she had never encountered someone with a flamethrower, criminal or not. It wasn’t exactly the weapon of choice of gang bangers and meth heads.
“Nope,” Georgia replied, waving her arm to welcome Allison to follow her down the hallway. “In fact, you can download pretty detailed plans on how to build one yourself.”
“You didn’t?”
“No. I didn’t have much time. But it would have been a lot cheaper to build one than to buy one.”
Allison nodded. She knew that she would have to pull a hefty sum from her savings account to pay Georgia back for all of this, but Georgia knew she was good for it. And it would be worth it when the Sieve was chopped up into bite-sized pieces and set aflame.
Allison followed Georgia down the stairs into her basement. The large room at the bottom of the stairs was only party finished and looked more like a personal workshop for a crazy uncle who packed his own bullets and built his own furniture than for a pretty blonde woman living in modern-day Cleveland. But Allison knew this was just one curious aspect of Georgia’s personality. Georgia Bennett was not afraid to protect herself, nor get her hands dirty. Having grown up with several brothers and an overbearing man’s man of a father, Georgia knew how to take care of herself... sometimes too well. However, this was one of those times when it benefited Allison.
Georgia led Allison to a workbench which had an array of items presented across a green cloth. For the first time in this whole ordeal, Allison caught herself smiling slightly.
She looked down the table at the equipment. The flamethrower was the most obvious piece there, with a surprisingly compact design with small fuel tanks that could easily be worn on the back.
“You won’t get a lot of mileage out of that thing,” Georgia said, pointing to the flamethrower, “but it shouldn’t take much to get your point across. I would have gotten a bigger one, but I figured that mobility was going to be more important than endurance.”
“Yes,” Allison said.
Next to the flamethrower was a belt with small orbs on it. “Incendiary grenades,” Georgia said, pointing to them. “They’re attached to the belt securely, but if you pull them just right, you’ll pop the pin so you can throw it immediately. Just be sure you’re clear with the rest of them before the one you throw goes off. They carry quite a kick, and in too close of quarters, you’ll set your own belt into a fireball. Not to mention you’re carrying compressed propane and natural gas on your back. It’s not napalm, but you want to keep those tanks free from exposure to the business end of most of these weapons.”
Next to the incendiary grenades
was another belt of traditional grenades. Georgia put her hand on these and looked up at Allison.
“These and the other grenades were the hardest to get my hands on with such a short notice. You can’t exactly pick this stuff up at Wal-Mart. But they’re basic grenades, though you wanted to customize them somehow?”
“Yes,” Allison said. “Did you get what I needed for that?”
“That part was easy,” Georgia replied. “These I did get at Wal-Mart.” She reached under the counter and lifted a large plastic bag of sawdust. Then she lifted up a large jar of rubber cement and set it on the counter. “They were also the cheapest. I hope they’re what you need.”
“Perfect.”
“Well, you’re going to have to customize them yourself, as you will these little suckers,” Georgia said, pointing to a dozen two-inch dowel rods. “You can use my grinding stone to file these down however you want.”
“Thanks, Georgia,” Allison said. “I really mean it.”
“No problem. I’d totally stick around to help you with your woodshop homework, but I’ve gotta do a quick search for Monarch Enterprises. See what I can find out for you.”
Allison nodded, and Georgia turned to walk upstairs.
Allison sighed. She was so grateful for a friend like Georgia. She didn’t ask any questions. She didn’t make any judgements. There were few people who could gather everything from lethal grenades to a flamethrower, let alone someone who would do it without hesitation or question. Allison just hoped that one day she could repay Georgia for all her help.
Allison looked at the digital alarm clock on the work bench. It wasn’t even seven o’clock, but the sun was already going down, and she had a lot of work to do if she was going to catch up to the Sieve tonight.
CHAPTER 30
Allison wasted no time getting to work. She started by mixing the sawdust into the rubber cement to create a pulpy slurry. She thickened it as much as she dared, trying to predict the consistency she would need for the mixture to not simply crumble away when the rubber cement dried.
When she was happy with what she had developed, she used it to coat the traditional grenades with about a half-inch thick layer. She then hung the grenades over the work bench by their levers, being careful to keep the pin fully exposed from the slurry and have it securely in place so none of them accidentally discharged. Because she used rubber cement, it dried pretty quickly, turning the run-of-the-mill hand grenades into wood-dust shrapnel bombs. These probably wouldn’t kill any of the vampires in the Sieve’s command – unless one of them took an explosion at point-blank range – but Allison was betting the blast splattering them with sawdust mist would have a strong deterrent effect.
As Allison let the wood-shrapnel grenades stiffen, she went to work on the dowel rods. Sharpened pencils were a thing of the past in this little war she had going on with the Sieve. She was upgrading her basic weapon.
Allison turned on Georgia’s grinding stone, which spun into life. Allison leaned the tip of each of the dowel rods against the spinning stone, whittling them down to a fine, sharp point.
These were the vampire mousetrap: a stake through the heart. There could possibly be no other more effective weapon in this war.
Once Allison was done grinding down the stakes, she stood back and grinned, admiring her workmanship. Not bad for a last-minute arsenal.
In the back of her mind, Allison wished she had the time to develop some sort of projectile weapon, like a crossbow or some wood-tipped bullet. Wooden bullets would have terrible accuracy, and they’d run the risk of burning up from the propellant in the jacket and the friction coming out of the barrel, but they’d get the job done at close range. Unfortunately, there was no time for that, not when she wanted to charge straight at the Sieve. She said as much to his face when he visited her last night.
Of course, the element of surprise was less on her side this night. While the Sieve might not be expecting her to charge so quickly, he was surely expecting her to come after him.
Allison didn’t want to disappoint him.
Then she turned and walked upstairs. As she opened the door, Georgia was right there, apparently ready to come down to the basement herself.
“How much do you love me?” Georgia asked her.
“I can never repay you enough,” Allison said, more seriously than how Georgia posed the question.
Georgia then grinned. “Monarch Enterprises was easy to find. Well, for me, it was easy to find. They own a ton of properties around town.”
“How many?”
“Dozens. But here’s the good news... There’s only one property that is particularly large, has a basement, and is in a location where blacking out the windows won’t be noticeable. The rest is office space and private residences.”
“That’s the one,” Allison said. She looked down at her phone. Sunset was an hour ago already. “I’m going to need to leave soon.”
Georgia put a hand on her shoulder. “You know, Allison... I don’t know everything that has happened to you these past couple days, and you know that I will help you with anything you need. Do you need back-up for this?”
Allison shook her head softly. “I need to do this myself.”
Georgia looked her in the eyes, then pulled her close for a hug. “Be careful, you hear me?” she whispered in Allison’s ear. “I trust you, but it never hurts to be reminded to be careful.”
Allison hugged her back for a long moment. She did not know if she would return, or in what condition she would return. However, she knew this was something she had to face alone.
Eventually, the two broke their hug and stepped away from each other. Allison could see Georgia’s eyes wet with tears.
“Come on,” Allison said. “Help me pack this in my car.”
† † †
Allison had plugged in the address Georgia uncovered into her phone’s GPS app. Almost immediately, a map of Cleveland appeared on the screen, complete with turn-by-turn directions and a distance note. The Sieve’s property was in Gates Mills, which was less than five miles from Georgia’s home in Mayfield Heights. It wasn’t even a ten-minute drive there with light traffic.
Allison sighed. She was so close. She had been so close all last night. For some reason, that made things hurt even more, to be that close to the object of her anger and not have even known.
Pressing her rage back down inside her, Allison slammed her car into reverse and pulled out of Georgia’s driveway. She knew it was a bad idea to draw attention to herself, especially with her illegal arsenal in the back seat, but Allison couldn’t help but peel out on the street and race away from the house. Her quarry awaited.
† † †
As the GPS app on Allison’s phone suggested, it took her less than ten minutes to reach the property. As gritty and run-down as the warehouse on the Flats had been, this hideout was practically picturesque. It lay far off the main roads, down a long private driveway. The property bordered on a prestigious private school, and the landscaping was lush with trees and hills.
“Talk about hiding in plain sight,” Allison said to herself as she drove down the dark driveway with her lights off. There was barely enough moonlight for her to see where she was going but she kept driving in the dark. She didn’t want to alert the Sieve to her presence too soon.
In this area of the city, the Sieve took advantage of the relative seclusion. Georgia was right that no one would notice if all the windows of the building were blacked out because she doubted anyone would actually be able to see the windows unless they were trespassing on the property itself.
Allison drove slowly, partly because she was driving with her lights off and didn’t want to run off the road, but also because she hoped to sneak up on the Sieve. At least the road was paved, so her car was relatively silent, compared to a dirt or gravel road.
However, as Allison approached the building, she realized her attempts to sneak up on them was futile.
The building was of an older design,
built in the middle part of the twentieth century. It was large enough to look like a mansion residence from the outside, but it had served as an educational institution for years. It had actually been part of the private school next door until the administration unloaded the property in the 90s.
According to the plans Georgia had gotten her hands on, there was an expansive basement as well as an old boiler room. Whether the place was still heated by a boiler or a more modern heating system, she did not know. However, there would be plenty of places to hide in the many rooms of the mansion, both above and below.
As Allison marveled at the size of the building, she wondered if she actually had brought enough weapons. She could tell the upper floors at least had plenty of rooms, and likely plenty of doors, closets, and hallways where the newborn army could hide.
But that wasn’t the thing that caused Allison to worry the most. What caused her stomach to tighten up with fear was what she saw when she drove up to the front door.
It was open.
The door wasn’t just merely unlocked, nor was it simply ajar. It was standing wide open, and the lights of the foyer were burning bright.
So much for the element of surprise, Allison thought.
She parked right in front of the door and killed the engine. Cautiously, she opened the door and stepped into the cool evening air.
The night held an eerie silence. She could hear the wind blowing softly through the leaves of the trees surrounding her. In the distance, she could hear the traffic of the main road, and a dog’s bark echoed through the hills.
But no sound came from the door. It just stood open, brightly lit, daring her to come inside.
“Come into my parlor,” Allison said softly, cringing at her own corny line. But the break in silence calmed her a little.
Love In Death Page 14
