by M. D. Massey
Donnie the Wendigo, on the other hand, was dressed like an undertaker. He’d grown taller, and leaner as well, if that were possible. His skin was stretched tautly over his skeleton and whatever scraps of sinew and muscle held him together. He wore a tattered black suit with coattails, over an equally ratty black vest, filthy white dress shirt, moth-eaten charcoal slacks, and black dress shoes that had seen better days. His eyes were black orbs that sat deeply in their sockets like two dark gemstones. As he spoke, his breath smelled like fetid water and decomposition, and he revealed a mouthful of needle-sharp teeth when he smiled.
As I looked the pair over, feelings of anger and frustration mixed with longing and regret inside me. For lack of a better coping mechanism, I chose to focus on the anger. Anger was better than hurt or regret, any day of the week.
“It’s been a while, Scratch old buddy, yes indeed it has.” The wendigo took a long pull at the air between us through nostrils that were nothing more than two narrow openings in his skeletal face. “You’re looking well, and smelling a bit less… infected? Pestilent? Biohazardous? Kudos to Captain Perez for managing to keep you alive this long.”
I ignored the revolting creature, choosing instead to focus my attention on Kara. “What the hell are you two doing here?”
“The same as you, apparently. We’ve been staking out Calypso’s lair, waiting for an opportunity to take her out.” She cocked an ear, as if listening to something at a distance. “Let’s move upstairs. I don’t want one of her patrols to hear us. The last thing we need is for that bitch to come storming through here like hell’s own fury.”
“After you.” I took a deep breath and let it out slowly as I looked at Donnie. “That means both of you. I’m not about to turn my back on you—or her, for that matter.”
Donnie stepped back, pulling himself up to his full height as he laid a hand on his chest with an effete grace. “Why, Scratch, I would never—”
I held up a hand. “Save it, Donnie. I don’t have the patience for your bullshit today.”
Kara narrowed her eyes at me. “If I’d wanted to eat you, I’d have done it back at the research campus. This way, please.” She made her way up the stairs, completely silent. Although her pace was almost languid, she took the stairs two and three at a time, moving weightlessly as her vampire physiology defied gravity and the laws of physics.
I waited until Donnie followed her before I did the same. He took the steps one at time, despite the fact that he could have easily leapt from one landing to the next in a single bound. I’d seen him perform incredible feats of agility, including dodging gunfire, so I was certain he was taking his sweet time just to get a rise from me. Instead of taking the bait, I checked the door to make sure it was closed and latched, then headed up after them.
We stopped at the thirteenth floor, just one floor from the top level. Fitting. Kara opened the exit door soundlessly, and I noted someone had oiled the hinges recently. She led us to a conference room at the center of the floor, sticking to the shadows and avoiding any and all reflected sunlight along the way. She lit a kerosene lamp and adjusted the wick so it gave off only the tiniest bit of light. The light was for me, not her, but I chose to overlook the gesture.
Donnie leapt atop the conference table, landing in a handstand. He had to fold his legs to avoid hitting the rotting ceiling tiles above us as he walked on his hands to the other side of the table. Once there, he crossed his legs like a swami and rested his head on the table. Then he folded his arms across his chest, balancing perfectly in that crazy headstand as he hummed “Ring Around the Rosie.”
Kara pulled out a chair for me, but I looked at her and shook my head.
“I’ll stand, I think.” I leaned against the wall just inside the doorway, where I could keep an eye on them both and make a fast exit. Not that I thought I could do anything to either of them if they decided to hurt me; I just wanted to feel like I had options.
She shrugged and sat in the chair she’d pulled out. “Suit yourself.” Kara leaned back, legs extended and ankles crossed, with her fingers intertwined over her flat stomach. “You’re angry with me… or maybe you’re angry at yourself for letting me get turned. Get over it, Scratch. We have bigger problems right now, and one of them is sitting in an earthen tunnel forty feet beneath that hospital.”
I had to admit, talking to my undead ex was a little unsettling. And yeah, I was feeling more than a small bit of anger, both at myself for failing to save her, and at her for being an undeniable reminder that I’d come up short in my efforts. But she was right; being a dick wasn’t going to help matters. And while I couldn’t fully trust her—now that she was a vampire—I still loved her. That would never change.
So, I decided that I might as well act like it.
“My apologies for being a little on edge. I just—”
“Never expected to see me again?”
I nodded. “There is that.”
She tapped her thumbs together and stared at me for a moment. “I’ll admit, after we parted ways I considered ending my own life. And, to be honest, I fully intended to stay away from you. You’re a hunter, Scratch, through and through. You kill the undead for a living, and I’m… well, what I am is obvious. That’s a recipe for disaster if ever I heard one.”
“And yet, here we are.”
“Here we are.”
I raised my chin in Donnie’s direction. “How’d you get mixed up with him?”
The corners of her mouth turned up in a rueful smile. “He found me shortly after I left you at the research center, and now I can’t get rid of him. Donnie’s annoying as hell and more than a little creepy, but he’s helped me understand my… condition. And, he’s managed to keep Calypso from finding me. We’ve been right under her nose since she arrived from Dallas, yet thus far we’ve escaped detection.”
“Any idea how Fruit Loops fooled the witch?”
Kara’s brow furrowed, at least as much as her perfect vampire skin would allow. “Magic, I suppose. It’s like the vamps can’t even see me, much less pick up my scent when he’s around.”
“You do know what he is, right?”
She pursed her lips and nodded. “And he knows what I am. Hasn’t seemed to faze him any, unlike some other people I know.” Ouch. “Besides, he says he prefers the taste of punter. I think he’s drawn to them, actually—cannibals, I mean.”
“And you?”
“I feed when he feeds. I drain them and he finishes the job, so no one comes back. It’s an arrangement that’s worked thus far.”
I searched her face for some sign of deceit, and saw none. “And what about your thirst? Is it controlled? Do you want to drain me, right now?”
“No, Scratch, I don’t. As long as I feed every few days, the urges are manageable.” She glanced over her shoulder at Donnie, who was still balancing on his head humming nursery rhymes. “Piotr told me that before the War, vampires lived hidden among us, and many of them chose to feed only on volunteers. They took just enough to survive, and went to great lengths to avoid killing those who volunteered to feed them. I asked Donnie if it was true, and he confirmed it. Not all vamps are killers, Scratch.”
I scowled. “Piotr controlled your mind, robbing you of your free will. And Donnie here is more than a little loony, if you hadn’t noticed. Between the two of them you might have gotten a sliver of the whole truth.”
Donnie piped up from the far end of the room. “While I might be mentally unstable, I’ve never lied to you, Scratch. And neither have I misled the lovely Kara. She speaks the truth.”
I pointed a finger at the wendigo. “Donnie, stay out of this,” I growled. I turned back to Kara. “I suppose the subtext here is that you and I can just pick up where we left off? That we can live happily ever after, like a couple of characters in a Scandinavian horror film?”
She closed her eyes and lowered her chin slightly. “You’re right. Forget I said anything,” she whispered. After a few moments, she opened her eyes and turned her gaze
westward. “Now, tell me your grand plan for stopping Calypso.”
“Why? Are you planning on helping me?”
She gave me a look that I recognized, one that said she was losing her patience. “I told you why we’re here. We’ve been looking for a chance to plant seven hundred grains of copper-encased silver in her chest. Unfortunately, that opportunity hasn’t presented itself yet. Donnie says we need to be within a hundred feet of her, otherwise she’ll dodge the shot.”
“Since when did you become an expert sniper?”
She glanced down at the rifle, refusing to meet my eyes. “It’s a vampire thing. Physical skills come easy to me, these days.”
“At least one of us got something out of it,” I whispered. I pretended I didn’t see her wince at my words. “Vampire powers be damned, I don’t see how Calypso can dodge a high-velocity projectile. She damned sure won’t hear it coming—a fifty caliber sniper round travels at twice the speed of sound.”
“Scratch, you may know a lot about hunting lesser vamps, but you’re not exactly an expert on creatures like Piotr. I once saw him dodge small arms fire at close range—”
“And you’ve seen me do it,” Donnie interjected. “Trust me, the witch will pull a Neo, given the chance.”
I turned toward the wendigo and scowled. “Just how in the hell do you know who Neo is?”
He tapped his skull. “Donnie still lives in here, remember? He says ‘hi,’ by the way.” He cocked his head to the side. “What’s that? Kill you? Well, that would mean killing me, my dear fellow. Besides, Scratch is no more capable of ending my life than he is of ending Calypso’s. Stop being silly, Donnie.”
I took a step toward him, fists clenched, but stopped myself. I counted to ten, then turned my attention back to Kara. “So, you can’t get close enough without tipping your hand. Which means you need a distraction in order to cap the witch.”
“We’d hoped you might help us with that… considering that she wants to kill us both.”
I rubbed a hand across my forehead. “Two things. First, why doesn’t Lurch over there take her out, if he’s so interested in seeing her eat a bullet? And second, why don’t you distract her and let me take the shot?”
She shook her head. “Donnie says he can’t engage them directly. Something about a pact between his kind and theirs.”
“Why does that not surprise me?” I shot the wendigo a sideways glance, and he winked at me. “And the other thing?”
“You’d never get close enough to score a hit. It’s going to take another vampire to end her, and even with all my advantages, I still might miss. Of course, there’s not a chance in hell you can distract her without getting yourself killed. We figured you could get the ’thropes to help you draw her out, or maybe herd her into the open.”
“Unnecessary. She won’t kill me, not unless she knows you’re there to watch it happen. She told me as much herself. Calypso wants to drain me right before your eyes, while you stand by, helpless to do anything to stop her. And based on what you’ve said, allowing her to feed on me might be our only option.”
Donnie uncrossed his arms, using his hands to propel himself into a headspin, breakdancer style. He made several revolutions, then froze in a B-boy pose on his side before pushing himself to a cross-legged seated position. The wendigo cupped his hands over his mouth and mimicked a cheesy announcer’s voice as he spoke.
“Once more, Scratch Sullivan risks life and limb to rescue his friends and companions from certain death at the hands of his supernatural adversaries. Tune in next week to find out if the ancient vampiric witch will bleed our intrepid hero dry, or if he’ll somehow manage to pull off the upset of the century!”
“It does sound pretty suicidal,” Kara added.
“Only if you don’t shoot her before she can finish the job,” I replied.
That night I stuck around, just as I’d originally planned, in order to verify Calypso’s presence with my own eyes. Kara and Donnie hadn’t lied. Shortly after complete darkness fell, she and dozens of her vamps flooded out of the hospital and headed straight for the Facility.
I knew what she was up to, because it had become a pattern over the last few weeks. She’d throw a couple of vamps at the doors to harass us and keep us underground, all while she chipped away at whatever hoodoo Colin had worked to prevent the vamps from bum-rushing the Facility again.
After I’d seen Calypso with my own eyes, I locked myself in an office to get some sleep. Not that I thought a flimsy door and some drywall would keep Kara or Donnie out; I just wanted the extra few seconds to try to snap a shot off if one of them decided to eat me.
Neither of them bothered me during the night, but I still didn’t manage to get much sleep. And the few hours I did get were filled with nightmares about Piotr turning Kara into a vamp, of Donnie eating everyone in the settlement, and of Calypso breaking into the Facility and turning everyone into deaders. The next morning, I woke up sore, tired, and in a pissy mood.
I exited the office and found a note taped to the door:
We decided it was best to move during the night while the witch and her offspring were away. Do what you have to do to draw her out in the open, and I’ll take the shot. -K
I crumpled the note and tossed it aside, then thought better of it. Instead, I dumped out a metal trash can and lit the note on fire, then dropped it in the can. A few minutes later, I was geared up and heading back to the Facility.
Deaders were thick on the way back, even though I’d looped around from the west side. The good news was, they were still leaving me alone. They’d pick up movement from me, come to investigate, then take a sniff and turn around or just stand there looking confused. Make that more confused than usual, considering the decomposing brain thing and all.
There were deader dogs around as well, moving in singles and pairs as they ran patrols. I did my best to avoid being seen, although it was difficult. The damned things never made a sound, not a single growl or whimper. So, I had to keep my head on a swivel in order to spot them before they spotted me. I was hiding from a patrol inside an old Army office building on the base when I heard a familiar voice yelling nearby.
“You’ll not get me, alte makhsheyfe—not with these pitiful creatures. Josef! Show the witch what a properly reanimated creature can do, ja?”
I glanced out the window and saw one half of a dog flying over a nearby building. Has to be the rabbi, I thought. I left my hiding place and ran toward the commotion.
I rounded a building to find the rabbi backed into the corner of a fenced-in area behind a warehouse. Josef was in front of him, swinging a metal light pole in broad arcs to keep a group of a dozen or so of the dogs at bay. It was clear that Josef couldn’t keep the pack off him forever, but he was making a go of it.
Behind him, the rabbi was mixing some potion or another, which he tossed at a dog that was edging around Josef’s reach. The flask burst on striking the dog’s head, splashing a clear liquid all over the dog’s snout and head. Any flesh or fur that the liquid touched smoked and melted away, and the dog dropped like a stone within seconds.
The old man and his golem were putting up a hell of a fight, but I knew they’d soon be overrun. I also knew that once I started shooting, the noise would draw deaders and deader dogs from miles around. So, I did the only thing that made sense; I drew my sword and rushed the hounds from behind.
One swipe of my blade resulted in three hounds losing their rear legs. It wouldn’t kill them or even stop them, but it would slow them down. Four more were distracted by my attack, and Josef sent them flying with a swing of the light pole. The rabbi threw another flask at the three hounds I’d dropped, and they went up in a blinding flash of green light. I shielded my eyes, and when I looked again there was nothing left of the hounds but ash.
Five left.
Two dogs leapt at me from my right. I swung the sword in a backhand arc, cutting the nose off one and lodging the blade in the other dog’s neck. The first dog continued its m
omentum and hit me full in the chest while the other dog fell, wrenching my blade from my hand. I tumbled over backward with the first dog on top of me.
With no other alternative, I lodged my left forearm in the dog’s mouth to prevent it from tearing my throat out. I fumbled for my knife as the dog savaged my arm, and blood flowed freely from my wounds. Suddenly, and without warning, the dog released my arm and backed off me. It began hacking and choking, almost like it was a cat coughing up a fur ball.
Then the damned thing dropped like a brick, and its creepy yellow eyes rolled back in its head. I drew my knife and stabbed it through the skull, just to be sure.
Huh. Proof of concept, I suppose.
I looked up to see that the rabbi and his golem were finishing off the rest of the hounds. Josef ripped the last few into pieces with his massive hands, then stomped their remains into pulp. The rabbi pulled a sword from inside his cane, and he went around cutting the heads off those Josef hadn’t seen to yet.
I did a quick check for injuries. My arm was pretty damned torn up, but it could have been much worse. Otherwise, I was fine.
Moments later, the rabbi came back into my line of sight. He leaned over in front of me, using his cane for support as he looked me in the eyes. “Hmph, not a deader yet, I see. This is good!”
“Good to see you too, Rabbi. And in one piece, I might add.” I pushed myself to a seated position and wrapped a bandana around my arm, tying it off as I spoke. “What brings you to these parts?”
“I came to warn you that a powerful witch is looking for you.”
“Well, she found me. Or rather, I found her. Been planning to take her out, actually. Would you be interested in lending a hand?”
He nodded, and a broad smile split his weathered face. “Pfft, as if I would refuse. When do we start?”
STAND
It was comforting to know we’d have the rabbi and Josef on our team when we attempted to pull off my crazy-ass plan. But even with their help and the ’thropes on our side, I still didn’t know if we could make it work. The initial attack on Calypso and her brood was crucial, but in the grand scheme of things, all we really needed to do was make sure she was dead.
