Gazillions of Reptilians: A humorous paranormal novel (Freaky Florida Book 7)

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Gazillions of Reptilians: A humorous paranormal novel (Freaky Florida Book 7) Page 10

by Ward Parker


  “My dragons and I could easily rescue her once you tell me where she is.”

  “Ronnie, with all due respect, laying fiery waste to an entire suburban subdivision wouldn’t be a good idea. Then, human law enforcement would get involved, maybe even the military. We’d have an all-out cataclysmic war on our hands.”

  “We are preparing for that.”

  “Humans have come a long way since the days of swords and arrows. I’m afraid the dragons would be wiped out. And the war would bring the supernatural to the attention of humans. It would be devastating to all the supernatural species, not just dragons.”

  “So be it.”

  “Ronnie, you’ve changed since I took care of you and your broken wing. You were a cute rapscallion back then.”

  “Now, I bear the weight of ensuring the wellbeing of my species. And my daughter has been taken from me. My rapscallion days are over.”

  “Give us the chance to free Elantha. We’ll do a small, surgical raid. No smoldering remains of homes.”

  “When you cast your spell, you must tell me the location you discover. If you fail to rescue Elantha, I will do it myself.”

  Ronnie crouched, flapped his mighty leathery wings, and sent Missy’s lawn furniture scattering across the lawn. As the wind buffeted her, he pushed off with his legs and rose above her house, flying off into the dark sky.

  Missy brought the vial of blood inside to her kitchen, where she drew a large circle on her tile floor with a dry-erase marker. She lit five tea candles and placed them around the circumference, each candle at the point of an imagined pentagram, to represent the five elements. She knelt within the circle, holding the vial of blood, and began invoking the words of the locating spell.

  She knew three different locating spells, but this one was the best. It used the psychic energy of the missing person, left behind on an object dear to him or her. This energy sought to reunite with its owner. In this case, the blood of the father would have ties to the blood of his daughter.

  After Missy gathered power from the five elements and the reserves deep within herself, she intoned the final words.

  A glowing orb appeared, floating in the air above the vial of blood.

  “Find Elantha,” Missy commanded.

  The orb zipped across the kitchen and passed through the walls.

  She sat in a meditative state and waited while the orb searched for Elantha's psychic energy.

  Soon, an image came into focus in Missy’s mind. An aerial view of a newer community of homes west of town. In what used to be farmland, dozens of nearly identical subdivisions had sprung up over the years as more and more people moved to Florida. Including vampires.

  Residents preferred living in suburban sprawl because they wanted new homes with the latest appliances and finishes. They craved the sense of security that comes with living in a gated community, far from the older neighborhoods within the Jellyfish Beach city limits. Even some centuries-old vampires were thrilled by state-of-the-art smart fridges to hold their pints of whole blood.

  The aerial image zoomed in as the orb descended and flew to the home that held the soul it sought. Soon, it hovered over a home with a barrel-tile roof. It was on a winding street with a cul-de-sac and looked like all the other homes. So, Missy directed the orb to fly lower until she could read the number on the mailbox: 16.

  Next, with the image still fresh in her mind, Missy left the magic circle, ending the spell, and rushed to her laptop. She pulled up a satellite view of the Alligator Hammock community. (Ronnie had given her the general area where he sensed his daughter was. It included this community, the only one around with vampires.) She confirmed she had the right place as she found a portion of the satellite photo that resembled the image in her head. Typing in the home number, she confirmed the match: 16 Green Heron Drive.

  Out of curiosity, she searched the Crab County Property Appraiser’s website to learn the home was owned by Stanley Gardiner. Web searches found nothing of interest on him, but that wasn't surprising. He was most certainly a vampire if he lived in Alligator Hammock. So, his days as a live human probably ended decades, if not centuries, ago, along with his paper trail. And most vampires, Marvin being a notable exception, avoided having an online presence. Fangbook, their preferred social network, was a private intranet that was inaccessible to humans.

  Now that she had an address of where Elantha was being held, Missy brought the information to Agnes.

  And the rescue plan took shape.

  A small team assembled. Sol and Oleg were bullied by Agnes into accepting the mission to pay penance for previously following Bill. He wasn’t even aware yet that they had decided to quit his militia, so they could fool him into trusting them. Hopefully, Stanley would allow them into his home.

  Besides the two of them, the rescue team included Maria, the young vampire whom Agnes had taken under her wing, and Louis. Missy didn't know Louis, but he came armed with sharpened rebar stakes as well as firearms. The stakes, obviously, were for vampires.

  “Good luck,” Agnes told them. “Do not show any special treatment to the vampires. Kill them if you must. If we don't end this war, all of us vampires could die.”

  “Kill Bill?” Sol asked with a pang in his voice.

  “Kill Bill.”

  A panel van, the kind that delivers packages to your neighborhood, waited by the door to the lobby. Just as the first tinges of color appeared in the sky above the ocean, the vampires piled into the storage compartment of the van. Missy got behind the wheel, and Matt sat on a jump seat on the passenger side.

  “The fate of the supernatural world is in your hands,” Agnes told them. “But don’t be nervous.”

  Missy moved the van into the parking garage, deep in the shadows, where it would sit for most of the day, the vampires inside safely protected from the sun. As afternoon wore on and sunset approached, it was time to make their move.

  Missy drove the van through the Jellyfish Beach gate, wondering if this was the last time they would see the building the vampires had expected to inhabit for eternity.

  The guard at the Alligator Hammock gatehouse didn't ask Missy which resident she was visiting. He opened the gate as soon as the van pulled up, since it was one of dozens of such trucks that had arrived during the day to deliver the vampire residents’ voluminous internet purchases.

  Missy still had to kill time before nightfall, so she found the community’s clubhouse, an enormous facility compared to the public space at Squid Tower. She backed into the loading dock behind the building, where they could safely wait.

  “What spells are you going to use?” Matt asked her.

  “Mostly defensive ones. My sleep spell doesn’t work on vampires, so I’ll try an immobility spell I learned from a voodoo priestess, if I get the chance. But first, I’m going to place a protection spell around our vampires and the baby, Elantha, once we find her.”

  “What am I supposed to do?” Matt asked. “Maybe vampires can get away with killing other vampires, and humans, too, but I can’t kill anyone, or I’ll go to jail.”

  “We discussed this already.” She pointed to a stack of sharpened rebar on the floor of the van. “You and I will rescue Elantha. Stake any vampire who gets in your way. You won’t go to jail for that. While the others are fighting, we’ll head directly for the dragon. I’ll tell you where she is as soon as I sense her.”

  As the afternoon shadows lengthened, the two humans sat in tense silence, staring out the windows. Alligator Hammock looked like every other newish fifty-five-plus retirement community. A fountain had greeted them when they entered. Street after identical street with nearly identical homes ended in cul-de-sacs. Carefully manicured lawns. Immature palm trees. No cars parked on the street junking up the scene, as all were properly sitting in driveways or stowed in garages.

  It all looked so typical except for one thing: no one was around. The place was, as they say, dead. All the undead residents were inside.

  When darkness fin
ally came, and sounds of movement and muttering drifted into the cab from the rear of the van, the neighborhood around them also came to life. So to speak.

  Elderly vampire couples strutted along the streets exercising. Seniors rode by on bicycles. Two women carrying beach bags strolled past the van on their way to the swimming pool beside the clubhouse.

  It was another evening in Vampire Town, USA.

  The door connecting the cab to the cargo compartment slid open.

  “It is time,” Oleg said. “I can’t stand another minute stuck back here with Louis, who smells like mothballs.”

  “Okay,” Missy said. She started up the van, rolled slowly past a race-walking vampire, and turned onto Green Heron Drive. She parked two doors down from Number 16, a single-story home in the vaguely Mediterranean style so popular in Florida.

  Bill’s 1970s sedan sat in the driveway, creating a large oil stain on the concrete. Missy hoped no human militia members were in the house.

  “Remember,” she said to Oleg. “You and Sol are here for a social visit. Act friendly and relaxed. If you can disarm Bill and his friend, do so. If not, wait for the right moment and signal us with a whistle one of the other vampires will hear.”

  “Understood,” Oleg said.

  Missy handed him two small cloth pouches.

  “What are these?”

  “Amulets for you and Sol,” she said. “Keep yours in your pocket. I’m linking a protection spell to each of you, attached to the amulet.”

  Oleg nodded. He returned to the rear of the van. The exterior door opened, and soon he and Sol strolled along the sidewalk and turned up the front walk to Number 16. They didn’t carry long arms or the rebar, to avoid alarming the neighbors, but each had concealed handguns.

  It is said point-blank shots to a vampire’s heart are fatal if a bullet remains lodged in the heart tissue. Bullets with wooden slugs were also available. But none of the group truly wanted to kill anyone. Unless they had to.

  Missy cast the protection spell as best she could in the tight space of the cab. She could maintain only one of these bubbles of safety at a time. She built it around Oleg and Sol, attaching it to them so the bubble would enclose them wherever they went. After she created it, she sent more and more energy into it to strengthen it against projectiles. Hopefully, against bullets.

  She diverted her attention to add additional magick. She created a listening spell attached to the amulets Oleg and Sol carried. It was as if they were each wearing a wire, giving Missy an audio connection as she monitored their protection spell.

  Oleg and Sol went out of her view when they reached Stanley’s front door. She activated the listening spell.

  And hoped for the best.

  12

  Rescue Mission

  In Missy’s head, via the listening spell, the home’s doorbell rang.

  “Good evening, Mrs. Gardiner,” Oleg said. “Sorry to come by so early.”

  “Hello Oleg, Sol,” a woman with a New York accent said. “You’re not too early. We’ve been up since sunset.”

  “Is Bill here?”

  “Yes. He and Stanley are in the garage, oiling their guns. Come in, come in. The garage is off the kitchen. Would you like a fresh bag of Type O?”

  “No thanks,” Oleg said.

  “I’m good,” Sol added. “Love your decor.”

  “Thank you. I’ve always been a fan of mid-century funeral parlor.”

  “Yeah, it sure beats the beach-house look. That’s so over-done in Florida.”

  “What’s going on in there?” Matt asked Missy. He couldn’t hear the conversation since it was playing only in Missy’s head.

  “Vampire small talk,” she said.

  “It’s right this way,” Mrs. Gardiner said.

  A door opened, the shuffling of boots.

  “There you are,” Bill said. “You missed drills yesterday. I was wondering about you two.”

  “What do you mean?” Sol asked with an edge to his voice.

  “Your loyalty to the cause,” Bill said.

  “Exactly what cause are you following?” Oleg said. “Are you fighting the Reptilians or the dragons?”

  “They’re one and the same.”

  “No, they’re not. If you want to believe in Reptilians from outer space, that’s your right. I gave you the benefit of the doubt. But when you confuse the earth species of dragons with these Reptilians, that’s a problem.”

  “You haven’t done enough research,” Bill said.

  “You need to have your head examined, pal,” Sol said. “I don’t have a problem with dragons. And look, you kidnapped one of their babies. That’s a serious offense.”

  “Are you feeding her?” Oleg asked. “She looks kind of weak.”

  Missy turned to Matt. “The baby’s in the garage.”

  “I feed her hamburgers. She’s fine. And if you’re too spineless to support a time-honored tactic in guerrilla warfare, that’s your problem.”

  “You’re the one with a problem,” Oleg said. “How old are you in body age?”

  “I was sixty-nine when I was turned,” Bill replied.

  “That’s not too young for dementia to set in.”

  “Knock off the personal insults,” a fourth voice said. It must be Stanley’s.

  “You’re deluded,” Sol said. “Dragons are not the Reptilians. You’re dragging the vampires and humans into a war that could wipe us all out because you’ve got your lizards confused. I mean, why couldn’t you have confused iguanas with the Reptilians? Then, we could fight an invasive species, and the earth wouldn’t get destroyed.”

  “Marvin knew the dragons are the Reptilians,” Bill said angrily.

  “Marvin was deluded, too,” Sol said. “You’ve said so yourself a million times. You told me he was a freaking nutcase.”

  “I was wrong,” Bill said. “He was a visionary.”

  “Fine,” Oleg said in a clipped voice. “Believe what you wish. But you must allow us to return the baby dragon.”

  “Never,” Bill said. “If the Reptilians want their baby back, they have to surrender first and leave our planet. Though, I wouldn’t trust those treacherous lizards.”

  “Please. Let us have the baby.”

  The sliding clack of a pistol sent a chill through Missy.

  “Get out of my garage,” Bill said.

  “Don’t point that at me,” Oleg said.

  “We’re going in now!” Missy shouted inside the van. “Louis and Maria, go in through the front door armed with stakes. When you get to the garage, open the exterior door, and Matt and I will come in and grab the baby.”

  Missy hoped the two additional vampires would allow Sol and Oleg to neutralize Bill and Stanley. She hoped Stanley’s wife wouldn’t be a problem.

  The front door busted inward as the two vampires forced their way inside. A woman screamed. With her listening spell, Missy heard the interior door to the garage open to confused shouts.

  Missy glanced at Matt. “I’m worried about this.”

  Grunts, cursing, thuds, bangs, and body blows filled Missy’s head. It was a vampire cage match.

  A gun went off.

  “Now, I’m really worried,” Missy said.

  Finally, the electric garage door slowly crawled open. Light from the garage spilled out onto the dark driveway.

  “Let’s go,” Missy said.

  She and Matt grabbed the sharpened rebar and jumped out of the van. They ran up the driveway and slipped under the half-opened door.

  Inside was a chaotic scene of vampires wrestling, but the four on her team were winning. Not only did they outnumber Bill and Stanley, but they were also in better physical shape. Finally, they got the two face-down on the floor, their handguns safely out of reach in a far corner.

  The baby dragon was in a dog crate, lying on a blanket, terrified.

  “Help me carry this,” Missy said to Matt.

  They picked up the crate. The dragon was heavier than Missy expected. They moved the
crate quickly across the garage floor and out onto the driveway.

  A gun went off. Matt staggered.

  Mrs. Gardiner stood in the interior doorway of the garage with a gun in her hand. She fired again. The bullet sped past Missy’s ear like an angry bee.

  “No!” Stanley shouted from beneath two vampires. “Don’t kill the humans!”

  Missy and Matt continued carrying the crate and placed it in the back of the van. That’s when she saw the blood. Big droplets on the concrete driveway and the asphalt street.

  And on Matt’s shirt in a spreading stain. Illuminated by a streetlight, his face was as pale as a vampire’s.

  “Matt, you’ve been shot!”

  He nodded.

  “Let’s get you to an ER now.”

  She helped him into the back of the van beside the crate.

  “Lie down. Help me get your shirt off.”

  “This is hardly the time for hanky panky,” Matt said in a weak voice. “But I guess I shouldn't let the opportunity slide.”

  Missy ignored him and pulled his T-shirt off. He had good abs, and his hairy chest was strangely appealing. But the wound on his side, just below his ribcage, grabbed her attention. She wadded the T-shirt and pressed it against the wound.

  “Hold that against your side as hard as you can, no matter how much it hurts, to slow the bleeding.”

  She rushed to the van’s cab.

  “Hey, are you guys coming?” She shouted to her vampire team. She didn’t want to leave them behind. “I have to take Matt to the hospital.”

  Tires screeched as two pickups and a Jeep pulled up in front of Stanley’s home. Six human militia members jumped out and immediately opened fire on Stanley’s house.

  Missy ducked beneath the dashboard but managed to peek out at what was going on.

  The militia men were ready for a fight. But they clearly weren’t sure who they were fighting. They sprayed the front of Stanley’s home with gunfire, perforated Bill’s parked car, and then shot at other homes in the neighborhood.

 

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