Blood and Bullets (23 page)
22
Laden with equipment, one by one, we all filed into the club. It was a big open room. As a dance club, it was a big floor space with lights hung over it, speakers stacked along the walls, and two bars on each end of the room for patrons to buy alcohol. We hauled the equipment in and began to unpack while Tiff located and turned on the lights.
Kat had found the gas main to the building. In her bundle she had an incendiary designed to blow the building to splinters and use the gas line to feed the fire. It would kill every vampire in the building. The good thing about Atlanta is that even if the building currently used only electricity to heat itself, there was still a gas line from the old system and it would just be capped at the main on the building, which meant that there was a pipeline full of natural gas attached to the building that had a safety blowback valve that would stop an explosion from getting in the system. It would provide more than enough accelerant to destroy the building but still be fairly safe for the surrounding buildings.
The lights came on while I was looking for Tiff. I climbed up the steps to the light and sound booth. Turning from the light board to come join us, she almost bumped into me. I smiled at her little girly exclamation and her blush.
“We need to talk.”
Nervousness climbed her features. She leaned back on the sound console and I stepped up to stand next to her. Small white teeth trapped her full lower lip in a pout and her eyes cut to the side, avoiding my gaze. “I know what you are going to say.”
“Doesn't matter. I still need to say it again.” She nodded at this. I reached out and touched her arm. “Listen, once we are set here, you and Kat are going to the car and going to a safe watching distance. You are to
stay with her
.”
stay with her
.”
She looked at me with a raised eyebrow. “What will stop me from coming back in here to help?”
My goatee slid through my hands, bristly and thick. It was shot through with enough silver to make me look menacing. I stroke it sometimes when I am thinking. Or when I am annoyed. “Kat will. And you will be no help in here. You stick to the plan like you promised.”
“But you will be in here fighting for your life!” She grabbed my shirt in her fists. “I can't stay outside while that happens.”
“You can and you will.” I cupped her chin and made her look at me. The bones of her face felt fragile and delicate in my rough fingers. “If you come in here, you will get me killed. The only way I can fight without distraction is if I know you are safe. You follow the plan.”
My hand stroked the smooth skin along her face. “Besides, if we fall here today, I need you and Kat to contact others who do what I do. She'll know what to do, but I need you to help her do it. Others will have to know about Appollonia to save humanity.” Her hair was soft on my hand. Silky and light, it flowed over my fingers. “Can you do that for me?”
Tiff nodded, her eyes glistening. Small hands moved up to my face. Fingers caressed my lips and her palm slid over my cheek. Grabbing my head, she pulled my face to hers. Soft, full lips crushed against mine and parted eagerly. The kiss was fierce and heated. She rose up into it, really putting forth an effort.
The thrill of her touch washed over me and I kissed her back passionately. One arm slid behind her and my other hand moved to cup the back of her neck. Thick hair tangled in my fingers and I pulled it tight, swallowing the moan it brought to her throat. Her hands came up to my chest, breaking the warm line of contact between us. Pushing back, she looked me in the eye through her tears.
“Don't you DARE get killed on me.” Her voice was muffled with swallowed passion, thick with lust but fierce. “You come back to me.” With that she pushed past me and ran down the stairs. I watched her go join the group who were setting things up.
Damn women.
Turning to the soundboard, I flipped the switch to bring the power on. Red and green lights flicked to life and the whole unit emitted a dull hum. Next to the board was a rack of CDs. Looking them over, I saw that it was crap on top of crap. Finally at the bottom I found a three-disc set of Rob Zombie's
Voodoo Blues
.
Voodoo Blues
.
Rob Zombie was good fighting music. He never feels the need to have a ballad on his CDs, so it is pure aggression from start to finish.
Voodoo Blues
is a great album of old blues songs remixed into Rob Zombie's industrial rock style. He sampled recordings of old bluesmen and digitized all the instruments they played like the slide guitar and the harmonica. Playing the music would also make the club look like it was open if anyone drove by and would help mask the sound of gunfire. And I expected there to be a lot of gunfire tonight.
Voodoo Blues
is a great album of old blues songs remixed into Rob Zombie's industrial rock style. He sampled recordings of old bluesmen and digitized all the instruments they played like the slide guitar and the harmonica. Playing the music would also make the club look like it was open if anyone drove by and would help mask the sound of gunfire. And I expected there to be a lot of gunfire tonight.
Pushing Random and then Play gave me the opening notes to “Death Letter Blues” originally sung by Son House. The original was a mournful song about the death of a loved one; Zombie's version was much more sinister. That would work. I didn't know why this CD was there in amidst all the trip-hop crap, but I threw up a silent thank you to God that they were.
Nobody should have to die to a crappy soundtrack.
Leaving the sound booth, I walked to the back of the dance floor where the others were gathered. It gave us a wall to our backs and the most distance from the door to pick off as many vampires as possible. Racks of weapons and ammo boxes stood sentry on legs. Father Mulcahy was in the middle of the group wearing his priestly vestments and holding a bottle of anointing oil.
I joined the others kneeling in front of him. Stepping up to me, he touched my forehead with a glistening finger. The oil was warm and slippery as he traced the sign of the cross against my skin. His voice rumbled gruff in Latin. I couldn't understand what he said, but the power of his faith spilled from every word, flowing into me.
“Ego to linio oleo salutis in Christo Jesu Domino nostro, ut habeas vitam aeternam.”
Stepping to the left, he reached out to do the same to Longinus, who was kneeling beside me. The immortal leaned back out of reach. His hands came up to ward off the priest.
“No, Father, I am cursed. I am unworthy to be anointed with the cross.”
Father Mulcahy sighed loudly. “Are you fighting evil tonight?”
Longinus nodded slowly.
“Then you are doing the Lord's work. Shut the fuck up.” He traced the cross on Longinus's head, spoke the words, and moved down the line, doing the same to each of us. When he was done, he sat the oil down and raised his hands over the group of us. He took a deep breath and then his voice rolled out of his mouth full of priestly authority. A small shiver ran through me at the power of that voice.
“God of power and mercy, Maker of love and peace, to know You is to live, and to serve You is to reign. Through the intercession of St. Michael, the archangel, be our protection in battle against all evil. Help us to overcome war and violence and to establish your law of love and justice. Grant this through Christ our Lord.”
I traced the sign of the cross around my chest and stood. There was a heavy feeling of purpose left in the wake of the priest's prayer. Catching Kat's eye, I jerked my head toward the fire exit. She nodded and grabbed Tiff by the arm. Tiff stared at me for a second, blew a kiss, and then followed Kat around the stage where they would go out the back door, locking it behind them. Once the bloodsuckers were inside, it was their job to lock them in. I turned to the rest of the group.
Father Mulcahy had a rack of AK-47 rifles near him and he was checking to make sure they were all steady and ready. I knew he would have them all set to semi-auto. The Father was a crack shot and dead reliable under pressure. He would not fire randomly, and every shot would count. With the rack of rifles, when one clip was done, instead of changing it he would just pick up a new gun. Next to the guns was a double-headed ax. Once the vampires got too close for the rifle, he would switch to it.
Charlotte had shifted back to her spider lady form and was also using an AK-47. She only had one rifle, set to full auto, but next to her was a crate full of clips. She had shown that with her extra spider legs she could change clips as fast as she could empty them. I had asked her if she wanted a close-range weapon and she had replied that she was a close-range weapon.
I had also discovered that Charlotte's brand of lycanthropy was brown recluse and her venom was necrotic. The venom of a brown recluse spider kills flesh and breaks it down. Normal brown recluse spiders are pretty damn vicious; apparently a Were-brown recluse was like a thermonuclear tiger.
Larson had shed his coat and was wearing just his black T-shirt and jeans. The blessed crucifix was back around his neck. He had removed it on the way over so that Appollonia would be able to track our move by the power she had pushed into his brain last night. He had started this thing as bait for me, now he was bait for her.
He had been given a rack of pump shotguns because he was still untrained. With the shotguns he would not have to aim, just pump and pull the trigger. He had a large blessed cross made of steel leaning against the rack. It was the size of a Louisville slugger.
Longinus had surprised me by picking a pair of Uzis. For some reason I didn't think he would go for a firearm. I guess in his 2,000 years walking the earth he learned how to use a gun. A pair of katanas was also strapped to his waist. The samurai swords rode at his hips, the scabbards curving behind him. Katanas are wicked sharp and these had silver etched into their nearly three-foot blades. The design of a katana with its gently sweeping blade makes it perfect for beheading vampires.
My hand flipped the latch on the long ammo box at the head of our loose semicircle. Inside was a row of flat round drums full of shotgun shells. The shells were alternating high-charge silver shot loads and silver deer slugs. I picked Gertrude up and locked a drum of shells into place.
Gertrude was a small gun, flat black and very sleek. Gertrude was an AA-12, or to be technical, an Atchisson Assault Twelve-Gauge Shotgun. The world's only fully automatic combat shotgun. She worked on a drum system. Each drum held thirty-two shells, and she could fire those in under six seconds at full auto. I could change a spent drum for a full one in less than two seconds with one hand. She also was designed to be low recoil so I could stay on target. Gertrude was a real heartbreaker. She was absolutely devastating to a large group of enemies and she would cut down on the number of vampires we faced dramatically. In short, she would unleash total fucking destruction on our enemy.
I was still strapped with the Desert Eagle and the Taurus, as well as a kukri knife. The kukri is a large knife with a curved blade. It was from Nepal and could remove a head from its shoulders with a single blow. Wooden stakes were strapped to all our thighs specifically for Appollonia's sake. I slid goggles down over my eyes and pulled the white painter's mask over my mouth and nose. There would be a lot of dust flying around shortly. Everyone else took my cue and did the same. With the first drum locked and loaded into Gertrude, I turned to my team, looking at them all.
We all stood a very good chance of dying here tonight. I was sure we would not all walk away unscathed even if we lived. There were simply too many enemies for us to pull this off without losses, and I was not the only one who knew that. My heart swelled with the heroes standing by my side. They were willing to pay the ultimate price, to sacrifice their lives if need be to stop evil.
Appollonia was near. I could feel the pressure of her power grow like a coming thunderstorm. It intensified, consolidating into itself and building like someone drawing a last breath. Turning back to the doors at the entrance of the dance floor, I settled Gertrude into the cradle of my right arm. We all stood, shoulder-to-shoulder, waiting for the storm. The pressure of vampire magick was a weight in my bones. I knew I was not the only one who could feel it. Longinus's knuckles went white on the handles of his guns. The air trembled like a soap bubble waiting to burst. The anointed oil crosses on our foreheads began to glow with a diffused light.
Softly behind me, Charlotte whispered, “She's here.”
23
The doors to the club burst forward in a shower of dust and a screeching of metal. Appollonia strode into the room, dust swirling around her body like fog, simultaneously covering and revealing. The Spear of Destiny was still in her left hand and her bloody cat-o'-nine-tails was in the other. A brilliant scarlet cloak whipped from her shoulders. Beyond that she was still completely nude.
Behind her was a mass of heaving vampires. They all wore their predator faces, and the fangs gnashing behind her made a metallic sound, a cacophony of death. Appollonia flipped her hair over her shoulder and pinned me with a glowing crimson gaze.
“I am here to keep my promise to you, Deacon.”
I didn't answer. I let Gertrude do it for me. She only bucked against my arm a little as she fired. Holding her trigger, I sent silvered death spitting out to Appollonia.
Two things happened with the first shot I fired.
The first thing that happened was everyone else opened fire also. The air filled with streaks of colored light. They were all using silver-jacketed tracer bullets. Tracer bullets have a bit of phosphorus in the shell that leaves a streak of light for the eye to follow. The military uses them to pinpoint a target for multiple shooters to hit. We use them because phosphorus really does a number on vampires. It lights them up like you doused them with gasoline.
The second thing that happened is the vampires behind Appollonia surged around her to form a wall of undead flesh. The bullets we sent shredded that wall. Cordite filled my nostrils through the thin paper mask and burned my sinuses. Vampires exploded into dust or caught fire under the hail of bullets we sent.
The air grew thick with cordite, vampire dust, smoke, and the smell of a paper factory from the phosphorus. It took mere seconds for us all to run through our first round of ammunition.
Dropping the first drum, I slid the second home. Larson and the Father had already grabbed new guns. To my left, Charlotte was still firing her AK-47. As one clip finished a spider leg would eject the spent clip as another slammed a replacement into the rifle. It was so quick that an almost uninterrupted stream of bullets flew out into the wall of undead.
We continued to fire, mowing down vampires as they boiled and surged from behind Appollonia. We poured hundreds of bullets into them and still they inched closer. The ones who could fly swooped above us to be picked off by Father Mulcahy. The second they would break from the group he put a tracer round in their skulls and they dropped in a roil of flame and black smoke, consumed before they hit the ground.
The gunfire was thunderous and drowned out the sound system, as well as the screams and wails of dying vampires. Noise rolled off the walls of the club and I felt it thud in my chest. I knew I was screaming as I continued to pour death into my enemy, but I couldn't hear myself.
Adrenaline surged in my bloodstream, pulling everything into hyper-focus. Battle high. I was buzzed on chemicals rushing through my system. The air was thick like fog and nearly impossible to see through. Smoke, cordite, and dust had filled the big open room with a haze that was broken only by the occasional flare of a vampire going up in flames. I didn't know how many vampires we had taken out, but the dust on the floor was inches thick.
From the corner of my eye I saw a vampire grab Charlotte's gun, wrenching it from her hands. Too fast to follow, her spider legs clutched and tore his head from his shoulders. Dust peppered us both when he exploded.
A gigantic vampire appeared in front of me, his thick chest ramming into the barrel of Gertrude. I squeezed the trigger as she was knocked from my grip. The vampire fell back, his arm torn from his body by the blast being an inch away. He writhed on the ground until three more vampires stepped on him to get to the rest of us.
Appollonia had thrown enough vampires at us to overcome our firepower. The battle was on in close quarters. The Desert Eagle filled my hand and I put it to the head of the next vampire. A pull of the trigger and he exploded into dust.
Charlotte leaped past me and into the coming knot of vampires. She was a superhuman blur of motion. Spider legs tore vampires to pieces, sending arms and legs spinning into the air as she grabbed another and sunk her fangs into him. Pushing him away, she grabbed another. I watched her first victim stagger and fall as the undead flesh where she bit him turned black and began to crumble away. Her venom dissolved him into a puddle of goo.
If we lived, I would remember not to ever piss her off.
Longinus danced into the group from the other side, katanas flashing silver in his hands. Graceful as a lion, he used both swords to weave death among the vampires. He swirled around his enemies, taking limbs and heads in a swath of destruction. Chunks of undead flesh whirled around him like a tornado through a trailer park. Vampires turned to dust or fell back incapacitated as he mowed them down.
Father Mulcahy had his ax in hand now and was using his Shaolin skills to take down vampires. His leg kicked the feet from under one vampire, and as it went down the ax removed its head. He spun gracefully, wrapping a thick arm around the throat of another bloodsucker. Leveraging it backward, he shoved the ax head into its chest. Black blood splashed up, coating his face. Dropping the vampire, a swipe of his arm cleared his eyes to see. Nicotine-stained teeth flashed in a grin at me and he buried the ax in the neck of another vampire.
Larson was now swinging the heavy cross at a circle of vampires. He wasn't killing any of them, but they were staying back out of reach, thanks to the cross. One of them darted in as he swung to drive away another and he spun to intercept it. The arm of the cross sank into the skull of the darting vampire, caving it in with enough force to shoot the vampire's eyeballs out of their sockets. They rolled on the floor, moisture picking up dust and coating them like a snowball rolling downhill.
The swirling smoke was beginning to thin as the dust settled and I could see we had cut Appollonia's horde to almost nothing. A glimmer of hope rose in my chest that we might live to see this through.
I kept fighting, grabbing a vampire by greasy hair and shoving the barrel of the Desert Eagle into his neck. His fangs still gnashed and chomped as I pulled the trigger in rapid succession. Four bullets tore through his neck to sever the head. It came away in my hand and crumbled to dust. I put four more bullets in the chest of a vampire who was naked and had sprouted wings from his back when I was slammed into the ground from behind.
The blow took me at the base of the skull and off my feet. My face slammed into the floor hard enough to make my vision go black. The hard plastic of my goggles was driven into the swollen side of my eye from earlier. Air ran wildly from my lungs, pushing vampire dust away from my face. I rolled, blind as a bat, but I moved because I knew there was another attack coming. I wound up on my back as my vision cleared enough to see.
Appollonia stood over me. Her cloak billowed around her and rage twisted her features. She was pulling the point of the Spear from the floor where I had been knocked down. It was wedged into the floor almost ten inches. She was not interested in seducing me anymore. That had been a killing blow she had tried.
My gun was still in my hand. Sucking air in, I fumbled a new clip out and slammed it home. She wrenched the blade from the floor as I emptied the clip of .357 bullets from the Desert Eagle into her chest. As she staggered back, her skin blossomed into red flowers of blood and she fell to the ground. Shaking my head, I tried to get my eyesight to stop wavering and slammed another full clip home.
A glance around showed the battle had turned. Even though we had decimated the horde of vampires Appollonia had brought, the few left had gotten the better of my people.
Larson was lying facedown with a vampire on his back. With his teeth, the bloodsucker was pulling flesh from Larson's lower back in strips, and I saw a gleam of white that meant exposed bone. Larson wasn't moving, just screaming.
Father Mulcahy was pinned by two female vamps that were holding him with his own ax handle across his throat. They had him down, but he still fought thrashing and twisting against their strength.
Charlotte was in a crumpled heap, two of her spider legs twitching beside her, blood pumping from their stumps. She was unconscious and covered in cuts that bled black on her gray fur.
Longinus crouched over her holding five vampires at bay with one sword, the other katana was gone. He was coated in grime and blood from a dozen cuts and scrapes. A gash on his forehead ran in a crimson stream over his face, his eyes white rimmed and wild in the mask of blood.
All of the other vampires were dead. I scrambled to my feet and put bullets into the vampire on Larson and the ones holding the Father down. They exploded into dust. Hissing and snarling, the vampires surrounding Charlotte looked over at what I had done.
Longinus took the opportunity to leap and swing the katana in his hand in a wide arc that removed three of their heads. As they exploded, he continued his swing and the blade flashed upward to split one of them from crotch to jawline. That one crumbled and he shoved the sword into the chest of the last one remaining. Cranking his arm in a circular motion, he carved the heart from its chest.
As the vampire burst into dust Longinus fell to the ground in exhaustion.
As I turned to locate Appollonia, fire wrapped around my right arm, shooting up and lancing pain deep into my chest. Looking down, I saw the lashes of her damned cat-o'-nine-tails were wrapped around my forearm. Bits of steel and glass bit into my flesh like the teeth of a piranha. Appollonia stood a few feet away, the strands of the cat stretched between us like an alien umbilical cord.
With a vicious yank, she dragged the lashes off my arm. Metal and glass tore my flesh, cutting furrows deep into the meat. The Desert Eagle dropped to the dust-covered floor and blood burst from my skin. Every inch of my forearm was cut and abraded. Fire burned through the nerves from my armpit to my fingertips and radiated into my chest with a pounding throb. Staggering back, I reached for the kukri knife on my belt. My fingers slipped on the handle because they were covered in blood.
Father Mulcahy rose behind her with his ax over his head. Even without seeing him, Appollonia crouched and spun, swinging the Spear around. Like magic, the blade parted his pants leg and the skin beneath it, opening a wide mouth of a wound across the muscle of his thigh. The priest fell to the ground, throwing his ax as he went. It spun in a lazy circle, the blade set to bury in her head when she batted it away like a toy. The Spear rose over his fallen form and her arm tensed to drive the blade into his chest.
I fired the Taurus into her back.
All five bullets hit her in the shoulders, knocking her around. She didn't fall, but she did turn away from Father Mulcahy. The skin on her chest was already knitting back together, tendrils of skin closing up from where the bullets had burst through her.
Longinus stepped to her, sword swept back and at the ready. Snarling like a rabid tiger, she jabbed the Spear at him and he danced back out of reach. Even with its length cut down, she had a better reach with the Spear than he did with the sword.
“I should have killed you when I had you at my mercy, Longinus.” The Spear darted toward his chest and he jumped back from its point. “I will not make the same mistake twice.”
The pain in my arm had subsided slightly from the flash fire of agony into sharp throbs of excruciation. Feeling was coming back into my hand, aside from acid-etched torment, and I finally got the kukri knife out of its sheath. It was the only weapon I had left. Moving up next to Longinus, I stayed a step or two to the side to not get in the way of his sword.
“Give it up, bitch. You are outnumbered and you are going to die. Now have the good grace to go quietly.”
Long fangs flashed as she snarled at me. She was stripped of all pretense of humanity now. Her demonic vampire side rose fully to the surface. Those honey eyes were all blood-red and black pupils, the skin of her face pulled thin against the muscles, blue veins standing out like wires. That long black hair whipped around in the frenzy of power that rolled off her. “Do not speak to me such,” she spat at me. “I have lain your comrades low.” The Spear pointed at me to emphasize her point. “You will be next.”
“Fuck you,” I spat. “We kicked your ass. Your vampire army is dust under our feet, and you'll be following them to hell soon enough.” I kicked up a pile of dust to emphasize my words.
“I will kill Longinus and take you for my slave.” Arrogance painted her features. “I will own you, Deacon Chalk, in ways you did not think were possible. Then with you under my yoke I will rebuild my army and conquer humanity and pour their lives out for my pleasure.”
Stretching her arms out, she raised the Spear of Destiny over her head. Throwing her head back, she screamed, “All of humanity will bow and worship at my feet!” Her head snapped down and that shapely arm flashed, launching the Spear faster than the blink of an eye.
Longinus tried to dodge out of the way, but he was too slow for her inhuman speed. The Spear took him in the stomach and exploded out of his back in a shower of blood and gore. Horror filled his face as he fell to his knees with the Spear coming out of both sides of him. As he looked down at the Spear, his mouth moved silently up and down, trauma robbing him of even a scream of agony. His hands locked around the shaft of the Spear. Slowly, he slid to his side, crumpling like an old tissue. Appollonia let out a war cry of triumph and leaped on me.
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