by Phil Wohl
room.
“They’re about 20 minutes away,” Max added as they all looked at the digital clock he superimposed on the side of the display, which read 11:45 pm.
“Then we’ll leave at midnight and take our time getting over there,” Hartwell replied.
On the other side of town, little or no preparations were being made for night six of the Hartwell massacre. Lowery was still lounging by the pool in the same spot he was since he arrived in Beach Haven. Fresh bodies were served to him in anticipation of blood hunger, and this also presented many opportunities to sire additional members of his growing army.
The group of vampires and protectors were strong en masse, but the regression of strength and powers over the generations would be evident during a more even fight. The excitement of the fight had fully drained from Abraham Ellison’s body and he was now just waiting until Lowery’s army completed the job – putting Hartwell down for the count – so he could follow his vampire to the next bore of a town.
Many of Lowery’s minions were gathered around the pool area and he said, “Hurry back, because it’s 80s night and the mood is right!” And then he sang, “Oh yes it’s 80s night, oh what a night!”
Word spread quickly and then Lowery added, “I’m also going to make a huge batch of margaritas!”
The crowd roared as Ellison mumbled to himself, “If he sings any more of those silly songs, I’m going to have to cut my own head off… which will grow back the next morning, anyway.”
Hartwell’s family left the house after Daniel gave the latest update on Samuel to his father.
“Still on schedule. He should be up just before the dawn.”
“Did Max download the latest schematics?” Hartwell asked.
Max zipped in the room before either man knew he was even there. “Yep! I did it a few minutes ago.”
“Is he going West to East?’ Hartwell inquired.
“No, I figured East to West would be more efficient to take full advantage of the sunrise.”
“Excellent. I’m so proud of you both,” Hartwell stated, as a few tears escaped his eyes and tumbled to the ground as ice cubes.
“I’m getting much more emotional in my old age,” Hartwell said.
And then Maxwell made his day, “You’re not old, grandpa’!”
Of course, then Hartwell thought that being a grandfather meant that you were, of course, at an advanced age… but that was pointless brain fodder for another day.
Armed with the knowledge that everything was going according to plan, Hartwell led his troops out to a battle they had no intention of winning, let alone giving any effort at all. If they would have known that 80s karaoke night and margaritas were waiting for Lowery’s group, then they would have realized that Maxwell’s strategy was completely unimportant.
They had time to get out to the field, so a leisurely jog was in order.
“What do you think you’re going to dream about tonight?” Aaron asked Blake.
“It’s always about the water,” Blake replied.
“I dream about the bologna sandwiches my mom used to make me when I went to school,” Aaron stated.
“Every night?” Blake asked.
“Sometimes I dream about apple pie,” Aaron replied.
“Hunters do love their food!” Emily exclaimed. “I’ve been thinking about a huge vat of baked beans with hot dogs cut up in them.”
Andrew chimed in, “Pizza with everything on it.”
“Endless ridge potato chips with dip,” Carla added.
It was Thaddeus’s turn, “A table stacked with nothing but filet mignon, whipped potatoes and red wine.”
“Cotton candy,’ Cal said shocking the group with his revelation. “What, I loved cotton candy growing up!”
“Going to the circus with my dad,” Sharon said.
“Me, too!” Gary said all excited. "I mean going with you," he said to Sharon.
Nicole said, “The Three Slamigos!”
“Yeah, I had a few of those!” Daniel agreed, harkening back to their days with Andrew as volleyball royalty.
Max was next, “Gummi bears.”
“Awwwww!” the crowd bellowed for cuteness, until Maxwell clarified his dreams, “With blood in the middle.”
That left Maggie and Hartwell to reveal their dreams.
They looked at each other and Hartwell said, “Lady’s first.”
“Books. Love me some books,” she said.
Everyone expected Hartwell to reveal his true dreams, but he was never one to reveal too much of himself, especially when the dreams were so much more enjoyable than the others.
He said, “World peace. That’s what I dream of,” as the substitute dream answer had the group running after him until they got close to the field.
Daniel asked Hartwell internally, “What were you really dreaming of?”
Hartwell laughed, “Fighting with Cal.”
Daniel chuckled, “That’s what I thought.”
THIRTY-THREE
The group was now running at top speed as the approached the great lawn of Beach Haven Park. Maxwell was tracking the whereabouts of the aquatics team, which appeared to be on the optimal course to complete a seamless transition going into the sixth battle.
It has been an arduous afternoon and early evening for the water-based team on their journey to the outer banks of Australia. Locating Lowery’s hunter, Braden Lawrence was relatively simple but extracting him from the depths of the ocean was another story entirely.
The team would have been elated if the removal of Lawrence was as simple as Andrew’s accidental mining of Cal Brewster, who was locked in his ocean prison for 15 years. Drew’s hammerhead shark façade simply slammed against the huge rocks of the Thomas Hartwell Detention Center until it loosened the bars enough to allow Cal to float to the water's surface and then he was pulled onto shore by the changing tides.
This time around, Hartwell was the impetus of the extraction not the jailor. He had two separate plans in his mind to choose from: one was the release of all things hunter, and the other was allowing Samuel to mirror the Lowery’s men in the sky, thus opening the door for him – and anybody who wanted to tag along – to make a run at Lowery. The fight couldn’t end each night until either Hartwell or Lowery were eliminated, with the only distinction being that Lowery had been killed 99 times previously and was now down to his last and final life before turning back to a life of mortality.
But 25 years of easily avoiding that final death made Lowery feel as if he was a true immortal, a force that did not have to follow any of the rules of the supernatural world. He usually rolled through eliminating the people he sired, checking off name after name and doing little research into the opponent he was facing. Most vampires on the list were in small groups that included only a protector and no hunter, because all of the vampire hunters had been buried in the ocean. Lowery’s campaign of removing the hunters from the equation drew unanimous praise and loyalty from his army, which eventually translated into absolute trust and admiration. So, when he came calling on the individual vampires of his list, they were more than happy to welcome him and were completely unprepared for the betrayal.
But then he came up against a family for a change; a quite diverse family where vampires lived with hunters and protectors, which Lowery labeled “an unholy alliance.” He made no attempt to check on the powers of the individual players, and really could have cared less to be filled in on the recent history of the House of Hartwell. To Lowery, the equation was straightforward and rudimentary: we have thousands and you have less than a bushel.
The aquatics team blended in to the pack and Hartwell was quick to get conformation from Blake before the group headed into the great beyond.
“Done deal!” Blake yelled.
“Great! Lawrence resting comfortably on the beach?” Hartwell asked.
Blake replied, “Sleeping like a baby.”
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The extraction of Lawrence took more than an hour, and there was doubt in the group for a little while whether they would be able to bring him out. Blake and Belinda slammed the ocean floor as Orca killer whales, Andrew did the hammering with his shark head and the three peacemakers use their fins to disperse the layers of sand and oceanic debris. Once they pulled the limp body of Lawrence from the ocean floor and into the breezy air, Belinda changed into back into her vampire self, unfurled her massive wings, and then flew the hunter to shore where he would await the dawn and his renewal. Hartwell even thought about transporting Lowery’s hunter back to Beach Haven, but figured that the element of surprise would be much more effective via an arrival closer to the day seven fight.
Hartwell’s group ran on to the Beach Haven Park pitch and then made an abrupt bee-line toward the ocean in a loop toward Lowery’s group, which was not visible quite yet. There was no time to waste in ending the battle, because the group needed to have the maximum amount of rest and downtime in order to fully charge their battery and be ready for perhaps the most significant battle of their lives.
Lowery’s hoard turned the corner and was headed straight at the Hartwell group, which was traveling from West to East - ocean to shoreline - in an attempt to be dropped directly on the beach, which provided a completed unabated exposure to the morning sun. Hartwell didn’t think the original plan of quail hunting was necessary, so he spoke internally to the group.
“Does anybody mind if we go back to Max’s original plan of just flying into them?”
A