Memoirs of a Monster Killer: Killing Forever Book 1

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Memoirs of a Monster Killer: Killing Forever Book 1 Page 13

by David J. Phifer


  If the bastards didn’t heal, I wouldn’t have to cut off their heads and melt them in acid. This cocktail was a way to get rid of them permanently without going through the hassle. I called it Black Death.

  His face burned red. Dark veins formed under his skin. His eyes bulged. Ever see Total Recall when they were exposed to the Mars atmosphere?

  Yeah. Kind of like that.

  It boiled Forevers from the inside out.

  The goon tried to scream but his vocal chords were already burned. His brain melted and leaked out the orifices of his face. Black liquid goo crept out his ears, nose, eyes, and mouth. He was dead before he hit the ground.

  And he wasn’t getting back up.

  I grabbed the Beretta with my left hand. In my right, I pulled the Howdah Pistol. I use it for special occasions.

  Both guns up, I covered the back of the van.

  Empty.

  I heard the shuffle of their feet. I spun around. It was Poe. Next to him was a thin man with short dark hair and pale skin. Too pale. If I had to place my bets, I’d say he was undead.

  “Solomon Ivy,” Poe said. “The Reverend. In the flesh.”

  I held my guns on them. They were between me and the truck. Between me and Augie. “Alexander Poe.”

  I started to wonder why the cops hadn’t shown up yet. As much as I try to stay away from them, this was one time I’d welcome their flashing lights.

  Poe had a confidence about him. A presence. A swagger. He wouldn’t be going down easy.

  “I’ve heard a lot about you,” Poe said. “This is my partner, Quinn.”

  I backed away, trying to get around them to get to Augie. “It’s good to know names,” I said. “I like to know who I kill.”

  “There’s that bravado I’ve heard about,” Poe said. “You can back it up, I see. You’ve got skills. I don’t suppose you want to work for me? Full benefits. Money, women, freedom. I don’t suppose the life of a hunter has, well, any benefits at all.”

  “I kill monsters and I sleep real good.”

  “A man of principle,” he said. “I respect that. I’m a man of principle too.” He ran his hand down his face and chuckled. “Do you know where you are?”

  “In a nest of vipers.”

  Poe grinned. “You are more right than you know, my friend.”

  Moving sideways, I placed distance between us. Their military van was behind them. I started backing up to my truck. To Augie.

  The neighbors came out of their homes to see what was going on. The neighbor next door walked out and lit a cigarette, unperturbed by anything he was seeing. The old granny on the porch across the street was rocking in her chair, knitting a quilt.

  Holstering the Beretta, I reached the truck and heaved open the door. “August. Out. Now.” I grabbed the shotgun from behind the seat. I pulled Augie out. He still had the dagger. I shoved the shotgun in his free hand.

  “What’s going on?” he asked, stumbling onto the lawn. “Did we win?”

  “Not exactly.”

  There was no time to escape in the truck. We’d be dead before I could turn the key.

  I wondered why the cops didn’t show up after all the ruckus. It explained why all the nosy neighbors didn’t give a damn about the racket.

  The real owners of every house were dead. Their homes invaded. Stolen by new owners who murdered the previous occupants.

  The entire neighborhood was Forever People.

  Chapter 22

  Mega House Party’s Greatest Hits

  With narrowed eyes, I scanned the surrounding houses. As the people came out of their homes, I knew they weren’t people at all. They were Forever. We were completely surrounded by a neighborhood full of monsters.

  “We have to get into the house,” I said, pulling Augie beside me.

  “I thought you said not to go in the house?”

  “Things change.”

  “What changed?”

  “The situation has escalated,” I said, running up the porch steps to the house. “Don’t look behind us.”

  We reached the front door. Augie looked back at the people coming out of the other houses. Dozens of them.

  All with glowing eyes.

  The blood left his face. “Holy shit!”

  “I told you not to look.”

  “Are they all—?”

  “Yes.”

  I jerked open the front door. It was unlocked. We went inside and I slammed the door shut. Locked it. Not that it mattered, they could teleport in at any moment.

  Augie’s face was red. His eyes the size of baseballs. “You mean everybody on the block is one of them?” I could practically hear his heartbeat racing.

  “Looks like it.”

  “Every time I came over to play cards or video games or drink and flirt with girls, you’re telling me all those people were those things?”

  “You were in the snake den the whole time, August. And never knew it.”

  He clutched his chest and leaned against the wall. “I’m gonna have a heart attack. I need my pills.”

  “No, you don’t,” I said. I pushed him against the wall, grabbed his face, and looked into his eyes. “You can do this. Channel the energy from the weapons. The gun too. I’ve fought hundreds of them with this shotgun. You will know what to do, even when you run out of bullets.” I took the dagger out of his hand and slipped it under his belt.

  “How do I use it when I’m out of ammo?”

  “Like you did with Arnold. Smash their brains in. The shotgun has done it dozens of times. It will know what to do. Let it do its job.” I headed toward the stairs. “With the gun, you’ll be able to fight like me. Go to the dagger if you no longer wield the shotgun. Do not, under any circumstances, touch both the shotgun and dagger at the same time if you don’t think you can handle it.”

  “Why not?”

  “It creates crosscurrents. Like when we trained. It will be too much for you to channel. At best, with the adrenaline rush, it will confuse you.”

  “What’s the worst?”

  “It will stir fry your brain and you’ll end up eating through a straw.”

  “Oh, shit.”

  I turned around and faced him. “Listen. You got this. You have the power, August. You will survive. You can do this.”

  “I can do this.”

  I was glad I had him face Arnold. It took something more to be able to kill a man. Killing Arnold desensitized him to the blood. If he hesitated, he’d be dead. Arnold was a trial and he passed with flying colors. Much to my surprise.

  I hoped his surprises weren’t over.

  We reached the top of the stairs. I glanced around to find the best position. “You ever kill anyone in a video game?”

  “All the time,” he said. “Halo. Hit Man. Gears of War—”

  “Pretend it’s a video game. No mercy. Got it?” It wasn’t my proudest moment, but it was effective.

  “Got it.”

  “Good. Now don’t get me fucking killed.”

  An army of Forevers were at the front door, peeking in through the windows, their eyes glowing. They were taunting us. Like a cat plays with the mouse it’s about to eat.

  We got to the second floor and stayed put at the hallway banister overlooking the first floor. There was less room for the others to move, less directions for them to attack us.

  Augie gripped the shotgun for dear life. I held the Beretta and Howdah Pistol. Ready to grab my Glocks when these were empty.

  Flashes of light came through the house as they teleported inside. As the first one came at us, Augie pulled his trigger. The monster’s head exploded.

  “Holy fuck,” Augie said.

  “Video game.”

  The second Forever appeared in front of me. My first shot blew half his arm off. The second one blew through his neck. His head flew through the air and toppled over the banister to the first floor. If he still had energy, he could regrow his body, which meant I just wasted two bullets.

  “Aim for the head,
” I said. “If it’s not destroyed or decapitated, he’s getting back up.”

  A group of them gathered downstairs. I opened my jacket and pulled out my own surprise.

  Their mistake. They shouldn’t have clustered.

  I dropped the grenade.

  It sent five of them flying across the room in pieces. Pieces that would grow back.

  As more teleported on the second floor, I had to give Augie credit. The kid was outstanding. As the Forevers flashed in, his fighting skill was on point. When he ran out of ammo, he flipped the shotgun around and swung like a pro.

  He swung like me.

  He dodged, parried, and counter-moved with precision. He was fierce. Nimble. Quick. It was like seeing myself fight from thirty years ago.

  Only better.

  Fighting back-to-back, it was like I was in battle with myself by my side.

  The Forevers kept coming. We dished it out. Blood stained the walls. When Augie pulled out the demon blade, it was like nothing I’d ever seen. It was a poetic dance as he flew between monsters, slicing them to bits under the blade. He moved like an angel. Killed like a demon. Side-by-side, we were harmony.

  Together, we were music.

  When dead bodies filled the floor of the frat house, Poe’s partner showed his ugly face.

  Quinn.

  As I finished off the last few Forevers, Quinn ran up the stairs and attacked Augie. Through pure instinct, Augie threw the knife at him.

  “No,” I yelled. In a battle, when you have the skills to fight, you can throw a knife. But when you’re channeling the spirits of the dead through the knife, you hold on to that blade with everything you’ve got. Without it, Augie was useless. Without the weapon, Augie was just…

  Augie.

  The demon blade tore into Quinn’s chest. It pushed him back several steps, but he didn’t go down.

  “August,” I said. “Butterfly knife.”

  He grabbed it from his back pocket and flung it through his fingers like Bruce Lee. Before I could assist, Poe attacked me from the other side.

  And I was out of ammo.

  It was his strength against mine. And I couldn’t compete. I grabbed him and rolled backwards, sending him flying over me. He crashed into the wall and landed on his hands and knees.

  Crouched against the wall, he had my necklace in his hand. My necklace with the Ore.

  Sneaky son of a bitch.

  But he didn’t know my necklace was just for show. It was a distraction.

  A backup.

  His eyes lit up with gold flame. “Even without the amulet, I still can’t drain your life force,” he said. “What are you?”

  “Didn’t you know,” I said, ramming my palm up his nose, “you need a soul to drain.”

  He was unemotional in the fight. Like me. He wasn’t fighting to survive. He was fighting for a cause.

  My boot slid on a pool of blood, causing me to fall at his feet. He took advantage, got behind me, and threw his arm around my neck, putting me in a choke-hold. His grip was like iron. I couldn’t break it.

  Sloppy, Ivy. Real sloppy.

  He pressed my neck tight. “You don’t have the slightest idea what I’m up to,” he said. “Do you?”

  “You kidnap people and sell them,” I said, unable to breathe as he choked the life out of me. “You’re a thug.” I reached the pouch on my belt and grabbed the second vial. Flipped off the top. And slid the syringe out with my fingers.

  “You’re thinking too small, Reverend,” he said. “I’m not selling people, I’m changing the world.”

  “You sound like Hitler,”

  “Hitler was a lightweight.”

  I stabbed the needle in his arm but didn’t get to push it into his bloodstream. He roared, ripped it out, and threw me back. The banister splintered as I smashed through, falling to the first floor. In a flash of light, Poe vanished.

  I crashed with a vengeance. Luckily, my spine broke my fall.

  And several dead, headless bodies.

  The landing knocked the wind out of me. I inhaled a deep breath of smoke. The body beside me was on fire. The entire first floor was ablaze. Flames circled around me like they were alive. My eyes watered.

  I coughed the toxic air from my lungs. I wasn’t sure how the fire started. Did Poe light the house on fire to trap us? Or was it caused by my grenade?

  No time for denial.

  As my lungs filled with smoke, my eyes shot to Augie. He was still on the top floor. Quinn was on top of him, forcing his hand to Augie’s chest.

  Augie screamed.

  Quinn’s touch burned him. He wasn’t Forever.

  Quinn was a Fiend.

  I could barely move. I was out of ammo. And Augie was on the second floor getting killed by a zombie.

  We were screwed.

  Chapter 23

  The Roof is on Fire (and other dance hits)

  I sucked up the pain and crawled over the dead bodies, trying to stay under the smoke. I reached the stairs and glanced up. Quinn was killing Augie. I got to my feet and raced up the steps, grabbed the demon blade from the floor, and impaled the zombie’s spine.

  Quinn would have screamed, but the dead don’t feel pain like we do. I tried to saw his spine in half but he twisted backward, nailing me across the cheek bone. The blade was still in his back. I grabbed his arm and rammed my palm into his elbow, breaking his arm in two.

  He grunted.

  I kneed him in the gut and ripped out the blade from his spine. I grabbed his throat and heaved him to the stairs. He toppled down the flight of steps into a field of smoke and flame.

  Augie was nearly passed out. The flames were climbing up the steps. The banister was on fire.

  I slipped the blade in its sheath and lifted Augie. I couldn’t jump off the banister with him and risk breaking a leg. The only way out of this house was down the stairway of Hell.

  Through the flames.

  With Augie unconscious, I charged down the steps through the blaze. My hair lit up like a dry Christmas tree. My jacket caught like it was made of gasoline.

  I stampeded through the field of flames and out the front door. My skin and clothes were on fire. A strong breeze fanned the flames as I hit the open air. Like I bathed in napalm and lit a match.

  My face was burning off. My lips and eyelids and hair were gone. My nerve endings fried to a crisp. I was about to pass out.

  But I couldn’t stop.

  I crashed with Augie to the grass. His sleeve was on fire. I snuffed out the flame and reached for my last vial. I tore off my jacket and snuffed the fire. When the flames were out, I removed the syringe. And plunged it into my heart.

  Augie opened his eyes as the remaining flames went out and my skin regenerated, my hair returned, and my body healed. I did a quick glance of the area. Everyone was dead. Quinn and Poe were gone.

  I did a scan of Augie’s wounds. His shirt was burned in the chest. Not from the fire. From Quinn. I ripped open the shirt to see the wound. In the form of a handprint on Augie’s chest, his skin was burned. As though someone took a hot poker in the form of a hand shape, he had a black charred handprint over his heart.

  He had a broken arm. And his hip was out of place. He awoke in pain. Crying. “Am I gonna die?”

  “Not today.”

  “I can’t feel my body.”

  “Give it a second,” I said, sticking his thigh with the syringe. There wasn’t much of the healing agent left, but it was enough. I grabbed his leg and pressed against his abdomen, ramming his hip back in place.

  He screamed.

  The cocktail did the rest. I could hear the crunching bone of his arm stitching itself back together. He passed out again. But he would live.

  I couldn’t say the same for Poe and Quinn when I got my hands on them.

  I felt naked without my guns. I ran to the truck and pulled out my Smith & Wesson .500 Magnum.

  I heard the scuffling of boots on the pavement. There was a rogue Forever on the street.


  It was Blake.

  He took one look at me and ran the other way. Shimmering light surrounded him. He was teleporting. I fired. The bullet ripped through his side. He toppled to the pavement and knocked his head on the curb.

  He was out cold.

  That bullet could take down a hungry grizzly. Plus it was laced with Black Death. Blake wouldn’t be healing anytime soon.

  The house was burning in a blaze of glory.

  Augie was coming to his senses. “What happened?”

  “We won,” I said. “But the bastards got away.”

  A voice came from the sidewalk. It was the shirtless jogger. He took out his earbuds. “Are you guys all right?”

  He wasn’t Forever. He may have been the last human left alive in the neighborhood.

  “Call 911,” I said. “Everybody in the neighborhood is dead.”

  He looked at me funny. “What are you talking about?”

  Alexander Poe walked up behind him and placed his hand on the man’s shoulder. “He’s talking about my friends. We replaced the real people. Sorry, we must have missed you.” He drained the man’s life force in front of me. His skin went ghostly white, his face sunk in, and his body shriveled like a six foot tall meat raisin.

  “You think this is over, hunter?” Poe said. “You have no idea what you’re up against.”

  My voice was hoarse and raw. “I was about to say the same to you.”

  He bent over to the man whose body he just drained. The jogger. He whispered something in his ear and stood back up. “Goodbye, Solomon Ivy. I see the stories about you weren’t exaggerated. But tonight, your story ends.”

  I fired. The bullets passed through the flash of liquid light, missing him entirely. Poe was gone.

  I helped Augie to his feet.

  In a broken voice, he said, “Didn’t we win? What does he mean Your story ends?”

  “I don’t know.”

  The dead jogger on the ground twitched. His limbs started to shake. Like they each had a mind of their own, its arm and head jerked upward unnaturally. As if invisible puppet strings were tied to the limbs, the body rose to its feet.

 

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