Avenging Autumn: Seasons Change Book 1 of 4 (11 page)

“
Maybe we should just go,” Jack put
in nervously, “we don’t have much time left.”

Benny thought about it a moment, then looked
at his brother “Jack, do you have a tire iron in that
hearse?”

“
Yeah, I think so. Give me a second
to dig it out.”

As Jack went back to the car, Benny noticed
his wife hadn’t moved or said a word since they had exited the
hearse. She only stood there by a grave, staring at a withering
corn-field down the hill a ways.

“
Autumn?” Benny said from behind
her, “Are you alright?”

She turned and stared at him with frightened
confu-sion. “He’s there, in the cornfield.”

Jack had just returned with the tire iron and
all three of them were now giving her an identical dumfounded
look.

“
But, didn’t just you say he was in
the mausoleum?” Benny asked.

“
He is, but I also feel his
presence in the cornfield.”

“
Are you sure it isn’t other
vampires you feel?”

“
He is the only one I can sense,
and he’s in the mau-soleum, yet at the same time I can feel him in
many different places throughout the field.”

“
Alright,” Frank said, as he took
the tire iron from Jack and shoved it into Benny’s hands, “Jack and
I will check out the cornfield, you keep working on getting that
door open.”

“
Guys, this is not a good idea,”
Jack added, “the sun is almost down, we should beat feet and get
the fuck out of here.”

“
We’ll be alright, Jack,” Frank
assured, “we have the equipment to defend ourselves. Besides, if we
run now they’ll catch up to us within a matter of hours. It’s best
if we try to finish this as soon as possible.”

Frank began to walk toward the cornfield and,
after giving his father a defiant sigh, Jack followed.

Benny looked at his wife and saw her stumble a
little, reaching for the headstone for support. “Autumn, why don’t
you get in the car and try to relax.”

Autumn nodded and returned to the car while
Benny went to work on the stone slab with the tire iron.

The graveyard and the cornfield were separated
by an old, broken down picket fence. Frank and Jack found a fallen
section and stepped over to the other side.

“
We should split up,” Frank
said.

Jack shot his father a surprised look. “Umm,
I…you know…I really think that’s a bad idea there, Dad. As a matter
of fact I think it’s about the worst fucking idea I’ve ever
heard.”

“
Calm down, Shaggy, we’ll only be a
few isles of corn stalks apart, so if you and Scooby get in trouble
just give me a holler and I’ll come a running.”

“
That’s real funny, Old Man, it’s
just a shame you have to finally get a sense of humor right when
we’re about to die.”

Frank smiled, “Just remember; move quietly,
stealth and surprise are our biggest allies.”

“
Right,” Jack said, but he didn’t
sound convinced to say the least.

They put about forty rows of corn between them
and then entered quietly.

Approximately twenty yards into the field,
Jack rea-lized he’d never been so completely and utterly terrified
in his entire life. He noticed his breathing was forming a steady
stream of steam in the cold evening air and made a conscience
effort to calm his nerves. He kept walking deeper and deeper into
the maze, trying hard to resist the urge to call out to his father.
He stopped and looked back to the west. In the distance he could
faintly hear Benny still struggling with the stone slab on the
mausoleum and wondered if his brother noticed that the sun was now
down.

Further and further into the field he walked,
his breathing was now short and jagged and he was sure he could
hear himself whimper from time to time.

Suddenly, Jack could hear a low, grumbling
sound that seem to come from all around him. He stared around
wildly, but could see nothing but corn stalks in every direction,
and the stalks were too high to see over. Luckily, the night was
clear and a full harvest moon shone its light down, making things a
little easier to see. Jack thought if it was any darker he would
have gone mad with fear by now.

The grumbling sound seemed to be getting
louder. No, that’s not quite right, he thought, it’s getting
closer. Slow-ly, he pulled a 9mm pistol from his belt (taking a
split second to ask himself why he had waited this long to do so)
and cocked a bullet into the chamber. Looking to his left, he tried
desperately to peer through the rows of corn stalks to find his
father, and at that moment, the stalks began to sway.

For a second he still didn’t see anything, but
as his eyes focused he could finally make out the dark, hulking
shape of the creature moving toward him.

Jack quickly raised his gun and pulled the
trigger.

Frank heard the gunshots break the eerie
silence of the night, only moments before a bullet whizzed by his
ear.

“
Jack,” the Old Man shouted, “use
your sword or we’ll end up shooting each other.”

Pulling his own sword, Frank caught movement
in his peripheral vision and turned to see an angry werewolf moving
toward him. He swung the sword up and the blade moved cleanly
through the monster‘s neck. He watched the head roll and come to
rest at the large feet of another werewolf. Looking around, he now
realized they had been lured into a trap. The cornfield was full of
werewolves and they were closing in fast.

Benny heard the shots being fired in the
cornfield below, as well as his father’s shouts afterward. Dropping
the crowbar and grabbing his sword off the ground he sprinted for
the old picket fence at the bottom of the hill, with every
inten-sion of helping his father and brother. He had nearly reached
the fence when he heard the low sound of cement sliding against
cement. He turned slowly and beheld the ghostly form of Odin Sway
emerging from the open doorway of the mauso-leum.

A primal rage seemed to awaken inside of him
and he ran back up the hill, using his free hand to draw a 45
semi-automatic pistol from his belt as he went. The weight of the
gun felt positively exhilarating as he raised it to aim at the
monster’s head. He was going to enjoy this kill most of
all.

He pulled the trigger and the force of the
blast nearly caused him to fall over. The bullet struck the side of
the mau-soleum, where Odin’s head was a split second earlier. It
ap-peared his father wasn’t exaggerating about the vampire’s
speed.

Benny stopped, dropped his sword back to the
ground, and steadying his feet, he brought the heavy gun up again,
this time holding it with both hands.

“
You missed,” Odin said. He was now
crouched atop a headstone to Benny’s right.

Benny took aim and fired, but again the
vampire was moving with unbelievable speed. This time he stopped
with his nose only a half an inch from Benny’s. In a flash the gun
was removed from Benny’s hand and when Odin moved again, he left
the pistol at Benny’s feet, broken into pieces.

It was at this moment Benny felt an immense
hope-lessness set into the pit of his stomach and threaten to
swallow his entire body. He was breathing hard and somehow, he knew
that Odin Sway was standing behind him. He turned to face the
vampire and found him leaning his right elbow against a tall,
eloquent monument that stood about ten yards away

“
You have a sword there,” Odin
said, “why don’t you use it?”

Benny thought the villain was toying with him,
trying to trick him into doing something stupid, but it was hard to
tell. Odin’s face showed no emotion at all and Benny once again
felt that strange attraction trying to take over. He knew it was
only his overwhelming hatred for the creature that kept the spell
in check.

Slowly, Benny stepped toward his sword and as
he bent down to retrieve it with his right hand; he slipped his
left up to his side and gripped the butt of an Uzi. With amazingly
quick reflexes (for a human) he brought the Uzi up to fire. Before
he pulled the trigger the gun was violently ripped from his hand
and Odin Sway appeared back in front of the mausoleum with the
weapon held up to his cheek like an actor in a buddy cop
film.

Odin appeared to be taking no pleasure in this
fiasco, nor did he seem angered, he merely tossed the gun aside and
spoke to Benny in a low emotionless tone. “Guns are so unci-vilized
Mr. Writeman, please, show me your skill with that beautifully
crafted blade. It’s been so long since I’ve had any-one challenge
me.”

“
Somehow, I don’t think your desire
for a challenge would be fulfilled,” Benny said, unable to hide the
anger in his voice.

“
Perhaps,” Odin returned in the
same monotone voice. “Nevertheless, you seem to be getting nowhere
with your popguns.”

From a short distance behind him, Benny could
hear his brother shouting some obscenities, followed by an inhu-man
howl of pain. It sounded as though they had things under control,
he found that at least a little comforting.

Benny reached down and picked up the sword.
“Fine, have it your way.”

Odin Sway pulled his walking cane apart to
reveal a gleaming blade from within. The sight of the blade only
in-creased Benny’s rage, knowing full well this was the same one
that killed his wife and shattered his world.

He pulled his sword out (tossing the sheath
aside) and gripped the hilt with both hands, raising it up into a
defensive position.

Odin Sway held his thin, long blade up with
his right hand and placed his left behind his back, crouching in a
classic fencing stance.

For a moment the two men only stared at each
other, each one trying to predict the others first move. It was
Benny that struck first, swinging his sword in a wide arch from his
right side. The vampire blocked the attack without much ef-fort, as
well as the two blows that followed.

In a blur of motion that left Benny surrounded
by a cyclone of fallen dead leaves, Odin sliced a long gash in his
left shoulder blade. Benny’s cloths began to feel sticky with the
warm liquid that was pouring from the wound. He spun, bringing the
sword upward as he turned, but Odin was no longer behind him. An
instant later he felt his right thigh split open and a blossom of
fresh pain rack his body.

Benny dropped to his knees just before another
cut appeared on his right cheek. Suddenly he was on all fours,
watching his blood dripping on a large orange leaf. He felt an urge
to stay there and see what kind of fascinating image would appear
before Odin ended his life. Odin, however, was standing nearby,
patiently waiting for his prey to stand back up and ready his
sword.

With Great effort, Benny got to his feet and
looked the vampire in the eyes. He couldn’t let it end here.
Avenging Autumn was the only thing that had kept him alive the last
24 hours. He had to prevail somehow.

“
Why do you stand?” Odin asked,
“can’t you see that you’re beaten?”

Was that a hint of sympathy Benny heard in
this creature’s voice, or was the loss of blood affecting his
perception? Are these beings even capable of such
feelings?

Benny raised his sword once more but a quick
swing of Odin’s blade ripped the weapon from his hand. Suddenly,
Benny found himself without a weapon and the cold, long blade of
Odin Sway’s sword pressed against his jugular. Ben-ny looked into
the vampire’s eyes and was again astounded by the lack of emotion
there.

“
I’m sorry, my friend,” Odin said,
“but this has gone way too far already, it needs to end
now.”

Benny closed his eyes and began whispering to
him-self as he waited to feel the blade rip into his
throat.

With a suddenness that even made the vampire
jump, the back door of the hearse flung open and Autumn stepped
out.

Odin stared at the dead girl, and as he slowly
backed away from Benny, a real emotion finally took over his stern
face. That emotion was pure horror.

Autumn began to speak, but Odin’s reaction to
seeing her seemed to catch her off guard and her words were
forgotten. Instead, her jaw only remained slack with
shock.

Odin was still backing away when he tripped
over a short headstone and (much to Benny and Autumn’s surprise)
continued to scuttle and kick himself away from the approaching
dead girl.

Benny was so surprised by this turn of events
that he only stood there for a moment, staring at the hysterical
vam-pire as it scuttled away from his wife. With an effort, he
shook off the shock, picked up his sword and darted for Odin Sway.
This was his best chance to kill the vampire before he could
escape.

As Benny swung the sword, Odin quickly smacked
the ground with both hands and raised himself up into the air. All
Benny could do was watch, as his wife’s murderer flew away and
disappeared into the night sky.

Frank had killed three werewolves and was
trying desperately to find Jack through the tall corn stalks. He
had heard the gunfire from the graveyard and decided against the
urge to go help Benny. He knew Benny’s determination would keep him
on his toes; however, his oldest son was having trouble dealing
with this little adventure they were on. He was nervous,
apprehensive, and, sometimes, just downright scared.