Fred (Book 6): Undeading Bells

by Hayes, Drew

  A loud boom echoed through the air as the first firework exploded overhead, forming the shape of a bat before fading into smoke. Amy’s plan of distraction, as it turned out, was to do the same job she’d originally been tasked with, only in a more aggressive manner. We’d booked her to put together the reception, given that we’d have a myriad of different parahumans and Amy’s business was built on being able to get anyone buzzed. I hadn’t expected her to also make custom fireworks, nor was I sure the process for that had been in any way safe, but as a wolf and a cauldron formed from sparks of airborne light, I took a moment to appreciate the effort.

  Anyone searching for the source of the display was in for a tough time, because the explosives weren’t being launched at all. Al was up in the sky, darting down to store roofs and resupplying from the stashes of explosives she’d dragged up there. She would light the fuse, let it burn, then simply toss it a few feet up and zip away. One more element of confusion, albeit minor, but this was distraction by a thousand cuts. We had to pile every element on we could in order to buy ourselves a modicum of breathing room.

  A cheer rose up from the town, meaning that Amy had begun to tap the kegs and Gregor would be unloading inventory, keeping her stocked despite the sudden spiking demand. With fireworks drawing people out and free refreshments to lure them in, it would be downright irresponsible for the agents not to go investigate. I even caught sight of a pair moving down the street, bickering between themselves about what to do. For an instant, part of me feared they’d pop in to the sheriff’s office. Here, they would find only Nax, who was already abreast of the situation. Sheriff Thorgood hadn’t stuck around, nor had he jumped in the truck with us. Instead, he’s simply said he’d do his part and meet us there, then wandered off down the street. Thankfully, the agents never came near enough to discover our truck or the sheriff’s absence, rather pushing onward to the source of the commotion.

  Across the bed of the truck, Arch had his eyes trained on his watch. Our timetable had come from him, based on his estimate of when the most agents would likely be gathered up in one central location. They would run in to see the issue, then expand outward to check for other threats. It was crucial that we hit them during the point where their numbers were contracted into one spot.

  In the distance, my ears picked up the sound of hoof beats. From the soft nod Arch gave to what I suspected was himself, it seemed Bubba was right on cue. While I couldn’t see our therian friend, I knew he’d been burdened by a pair of wooden casks, each punctured in one single spot. Every drop that hit the ground sizzled briefly before blooming into a bright, airy mist that wafted up into the air. His legs were carrying him around the center of Boarback, where everyone would be starting their revelry, and this would only make things more fun. Originally, I suspected this was some of sort of high-end product Amy had planned to use for toasts or those who truly wanted to touch the sky. Apparently, it was based on the same stuff she’d used the night we met Al and Gregor, though I’d been assured this batch was more “grounded” than the last.

  What surprised me most in that moment was not the sound of Bubba, however. It was the sudden shift in the wind. Without warning, the breeze adjusted, blowing now directly toward the party and away from us. Looking off at the trees in the distance, I could see that they were moving as well, except the direction didn’t quite line up. They moved as if the wind was blowing toward the center of town, just like every other marker I could spot indicated. The air itself was helping us, sending the magical mist directly into our crowd of merrymakers.

  The surprise must have shown on my face, as Neil leaned in and whispered, “Krystal did say this was his town.”

  “To the point where the winds are his ally?”

  “It is never prudent to underestimate one of those beings, be it the director, the sheriff, or the other,” Arch informed us. “I’m not sure we’ve ever seen the limits of what they can do—only the boundaries they impose on themselves.”

  Much as I wanted to dispute such an idea, largely for my own sanity, there was no denying the increasing wind at my back. More importantly, there wasn’t time for such discussions. With Bubba on the move, the trap had been sprung. Everyone in the center of town was about to care a whole lot more about where the food was and a good deal less about my impending nuptials. Those who tried to flee would only go deeper into the chemical mist that had been poured around them. Some might have the willpower or resistance to break out, but this would dramatically cut down on our potential pursuers without any risk of someone getting hurt.

  Arch slapped the side of the truck twice, and Krystal fired up the engine. As the only one of us to ever actually reside in Boarback, she was the obvious choice to drive, especially considering her aggressive vehicular nature. Despite the massive coat covering most of her body and weighing her down, she didn’t miss a step once the signal came. We jerked into motion, our combined weight substantially slowing the acceleration. If we’d been trying to work with just the mechanical advantage, we’d have been sunk. Even I could have outrun us at our initial pace, to say nothing of someone like Deborah.

  Taking each movement carefully, I leaned over the side of the truck bed, popping open our gas tank. For a flickering moment, part of me tried to hesitate, to question whether it was wise to toss some untested potion into a combustion-based engine on a vehicle where we were well ensconced inside the blast radius. Then, I shook off the notion. Of course , it was a bad idea. Rational choices were for other clans: this was the House of Fred. We survived by leaning on each other, no matter how insane a path that led us down.

  With minimal flourish, I dumped the entire vial into the gas tank, then slammed the lid back in place. At first, there was only the struggling groan of the truck’s engine as we putted down the road toward the nearby forest. Then, I heard a growl. Not a growl, as in the engine was suddenly cranking more aggressively: an actual, literal growl came from underneath the hood, and with it, a new burst of speed. We were picking up the pace—substantially, at that—yet there were more differences to be observed. The hard metal of the truck’s surface began to segment in spots, forming plates like an insect’s carapace. Its shape contoured in, turning more organic and less boxy, even as the bed swelled in size. On the ground, I saw something shiny and viscous reflected in the moonlight. Was it leaking oil? No, oil wasn’t clear. This looked more like… drool.

  Albert clapped his hands, a look of pure joy on his face. “A monster truck! Amy turned Krystal’s ride into a literal monster truck.”

  The roar from up front seemed to confirm his suspicions, as did the tufts of thin metal, almost like hair, that were sprouting between the cracks of its newly plated segments. Whatever else was happening, we were definitely picking up speed. Despite being loaded down with a basketball team’s worth of people, we were racing along now, cutting a breakneck pace as we left the main roads and entered the woods.

  Nice as it was to have cover, we were far from in the clear. There was still a long trek up to the grove, and I was sure the Agency had access to faster options than even our alchemically amplified vehicle. That was to say nothing of our larger threats, such as the director. While I was glad she’d yet to appear, it was hard not to imagine her popping out from behind every tree or bush, suddenly putting a halt to our efforts with casual ease.

  As it turned out, my instincts were correct, except I’d chosen the wrong threat. Our journey through the woods was going well, Krystal dodging swerves in the dirt road that would have sent other drivers right into an ancient trunk. She knew this whole area by heart, despite the years away. As such, I found it confusing that we began to slow. There were no expected obstacles in our path so soon, no hairpin turns or downed trees to avoid, yet our pace dropped more and more rapidly.

  Inside, I could see Krystal slamming on the gas, so she wasn’t the cause. I momentarily feared that Amy’s potion had ended up destroying the engine; however, a soft whimper from up front added new clarity. Albert hadn’t b
een off base: the truck was functioning as if it were alive and capable of animal-level intelligence. That meant it had senses, ideas like self-preservation, the concept of predator and prey. Things that even a creature born moments before would have the capacity to feel. Hunger, fear, these came with us from the start.

  The truck shuddered to a halt just before a small clearing, sinking low on its front tires in what I imagined to be a submissive position. In truth, I didn’t really blame the truck for such a reaction. As a being less than an hour old, I could only imagine the terror it felt coming upon a pair of ancient, powerful vampires.

  Standing in the clearing, with obvious intent to bar our path, waited Deborah and Claudius.

  10.

  “Fred, how do you want to play this?” Arch was looking at me, as were the others. It was a fair question; even if I hadn’t been the one in charge of the clan, I’d certainly had the most dealings with the Blood Council, out of anyone.

  My initial reaction was one of despair; however, my pragmatic side quickly quelled such notions. This wedding had little to no impact on Deborah or the Blood Council; they’d been willing to sign off on it already. True, she’d caught us in a compromising position, but that didn’t mean we were sunk. Deborah was nothing if not reasonable. Negotiation was still very much on the table, so long as we didn’t open by doing something stupid.

  I rose in the truck, looking over the top and meeting Deborah’s gaze. “Have you come to wish us a happy wedding, or to try stopping us?”

  Deborah lifted an eyebrow artfully. “Try?”

  “You are a mighty opponent, indeed, but there are quite a few of us, and you know my clan can be rather surprising when pressed. Escape is not impossible.”

  The fact that I was referring to getting away, rather than victory, appeared to mollify her ego, which I wasn’t entirely sure existed in the first place. “I suppose one my age knows better than to assume we’ve seen everything. You do have a knack for the unexpected, though I’m afraid, tonight is not such a case. Anyone could have seen this potential move coming, so I’m sure you know that the director is already aware. Every moment you spend with us allows her to organize her forces, or perhaps give chase herself.”

  “Which is your way of putting a clock on this to keep me under pressure.”

  Deborah looked momentarily off-step. She’d evidently forgotten that this was one area where my business training came into play. I, too, knew the choreography for the dance of negotiation. The mental stumble took up less than a second. She recovered instantly, moving closer to our truck.

  “Did I put the clock on? Funny, I don’t recall founding an Agency, installing a director, and then ordering her to block your wedding. Seems more like I was merely laying the situation bare. Time is vital, you clearly need to be on your way, and I gain nothing by stopping you.”

  Pleasant as that sounded, I knew the difference between the windup and the pitch. One was a lot more dangerous than the other.

  “However,” Deborah continued, along with her slow advance. “We did hear the head of the Agency make it explicit that this was not allowed. As the Blood Council, it would reflect quite poorly on us if we merely let you pass. Now, if you were to use some sort of distraction on us, the kind of thing we couldn’t resist, that might offer up a viable explanation as to why we didn’t block your progress.”

  I was still unraveling her intent, but I’d forgotten that I was not the only one present with this sort of experience. The passenger door popped open as Asha emerged, looking still slightly shaken, but steadily more and more like herself. “I get it. You want me. Because if you have the chance to test a new type of vampire or stop a wedding, the Blood Council would of course choose the former.”

  “Absolutely no—”

  “Fred, I make my own deals.” Asha never broke eye contact with Deborah. “Is this the same battery of tests you made Fred go through on his last visit?”

  “Close to it, with a few obvious exceptions. No terminal patients on hand for you to try turning.” Deborah paused, pondering for a moment. “We also might do some light combat testing, just to get a sense of where you’re starting out. I would handle that personally, though, so I can assure you it would be perfectly safe. In fact, I’ll go so far as to promise no lasting harm will come to you during any of the tests.”

  The sound of a door opening once more surprised all of us. Part of me expected to see Krystal emerge, gun in hand, ready to put an end to this discussion however she deemed necessary. Instead, I found myself looking at the final vampire of our clan. Lillian strode forward, failing to conceal her rattled nerves. Not much scared her, but the Blood Council was a notable exception. Her general policy had been to stay far away, only living in the same house as Deborah had softened the terror slightly.

  “She’s not going alone,” Lillian declared. Asha and Deborah both started to protest, so Lillian denied them the chance. “Hey, guess what? That wasn’t a question.” She whirled toward Deborah, pointing a finger. “There is no chance in hell I’m leaving someone in your position alone with a newly turned vampire who doesn’t know diddly about how our society works.” Not done, her glare turned to Asha. “And I know you’re the bee’s knees at the law, but there’s a lot more to learn when you actually become part of a parahuman species. Treaties, customs, rules of manners, so much more than you’re picturing. Seeing as I’m the only member of this clan who also has extensive practice actually being a vampire, that means I’m her chaperone.”

  I’d seen many an amazing thing since becoming undead; however, watching someone actually compel both Deborah and Asha Patel into momentary silence was one that shone through as truly remarkable. After a few seconds to consider the idea, Asha spoke once more.

  “How ’bout this? I’m on board with doing tests, so long as they are the same ones Fred did. Anything variant, we negotiate, but I’ll go with you now as a show of good faith.”

  “As well as getting the car moving again,” Deborah pointed out. “But I’m certainly not going to argue with getting my way. The deal is acceptable. We will run through only the tests conducted on Fredrick Fletcher in his last visit, where viable, and all others are subject to separate negotiations.” She grinned, the barest hint of her fangs peeking through in the moonlight. “I think I’m going to like having someone with your talents among our kin.”

  Smoothly as it all seemed to be going, I couldn’t help myself. “Asha, are you sure?”

  In spite of having been through literal death and back in less than a day, Asha still managed to look almost bored by the question, as if she were truly unbothered by it all. “They’re going to insist on this eventually; it can either be an inconvenience, or a way I help. I like the helping version better, especially given what you’ve done for me today.” Asha tapped the hood of the truck, eliciting something like a wag for those of us in the bed. “Go get hitched. We’ve got this.”

  My eyes turned to Deborah, who was waiting politely. “Should I even ask why you’re doing this? I’m sure there’s at least five more motives I’m not seeing.”

  She feigned shock, placing her hand over her heart. “My dear man, you wound me. When have I dealt with the House of Fred in anything less than clear, honest, fair terms? Aside from the times I tricked you, of course—those were part of the testing.” We stayed looking at each other, and the mock humor slid away. “Long-term view, remember? What you are is unique, and now there’s another one-of-a-kind vampire in your clan, as well. To my thinking, the Blood Council is far better served by an ally I aided in his time of need than by one I angered on his wedding day. Especially one who is keenly aware of just how easily I’m letting him off the hook. On top of which, I did say I would make up for Claudius’s rudeness to you, and I loathe having a debt overhead.”

  No arguing with that. If Deborah wanted to stop us, we’d be sunk. Testing Asha wasn’t great, but she’d also promised to keep her safe. Given who were going up against tonight, not even those of us moving on ha
d that guarantee.

  “I take your point, but I’m not sure I’d call stealing two of my people giving us aid.”

  “No, the aid is when I tell you that there’s a series of traps just up ahead, lining the woods. However, some incredibly powerful vampire going for a stroll must have accidently triggered a few. If you follow the direction the broken branches point, I daresay you could wind your way through the obstacles without any further delay.” The gleeful twinkle in Deborah’s eye said it all. She’d walked in with all the cards and was leaving with exactly the prize she’d had her sights on. Tonight, it was helpful, but part of me feared what would happen on the day she decided to play for keeps.

  With Asha and Lillian at her side, Deborah shifted toward the tree line, motioning for Claudius to come, too. I’d almost forgotten he was even there; the guy had been completely absorbed in whatever he was typing on his tablet. My best guess was notes and testing ideas for Asha, who was in for a tiresome next few hours. By the time I looked back over, the trio was already gone. Seconds later, Claudius gave chase.

  No sooner had the last of the Blood Council left than our truck roared with vigor once more. Krystal gripped the wheel like it was the reins of a bucking bronco. “Hold on! Going to try to follow those branches, but it might be a bit of a crapshoot.”

  We lunged forward; the truck had only gotten more animalistic in the time spent idling. Had we been thinking about it, moving someone inside might have been smarter from a space-allocation standpoint, but Deborah had taken up enough time. Even though the exchange had been relatively brief compared to our overall trip, each passing second felt like it brought the Agency closer to our heels.