Undead as a Doornail

by William F Aicher

  “We call those fraulines cherry bombs,” Wolfgang says. “Cherry wood bullets with tipped with glass points containing the same concoction used in the glow stick. Difference is these shatter on impact. Burst of UV, then splinters of wood scatter through the body. Hit them in the heart, and you will see the biggest pop you ever see. Miss? Give them a brand-new hole.”

  “Only six?” I ask, as I gently stroke the polished cherry wood of the bullet and run my finger down the gleaming brass cartridge.

  “Very difficult to make. Rousseau requests you use them… wisely.”

  Chapter Forty

  We’ll hit them in daylight. When they’re least prepared. Part of me feels a pang of guilt at the idea of taking Sofi out while she sleeps. But something tells me that by the time I finally met up with her, she’ll be wide awake and ready to rumble.

  On the drive over, my body trembles with anticipation. Wolfgang sits beside me, calm as a cucumber, while I do my best not to break out into a torrent of sweat. Never before have I worked with a team. And nothing in my past had been as planned out and focused as this operation. Sure, I had Sofi with me for a while, but she was more of a sidekick tagalong than actual backup. Wolfgang had training. I was sure of it. What kind of training, I didn’t bother to ask. But the man knew how to handle a weapon and how to handle his nerves. Even though they’d called me in like I was the savior of the human race, now, as we roll into battle, I feel unprepared and under the microscope. Probably my self-doubt. Stage fright.

  To take my mind off the details of the plan, which have been on an infinite loop inside my head ever since we slapped the map on the table and drew out our approach, I dig out my phone and browse the news. Unfortunately, that doesn’t help much.

  Locally in Munich, at least three girls have gone missing in the past week. All in their late teens or early twenties. The news says this was abnormal.

  No shit.

  Police are urging women to only travel in groups and to lock their doors at night. False hopes of safety. If you read deep enough into the articles, you’ll see none of this will do a damn bit of good. Each of these girls has been taken from her home, with doors locked and no signs of forced entry.

  I search the global news stories, and the pattern continues. Young women up and missing from their homes. A few disappearances from the streets, out after the bars close, etc. Too, but those are harder to pin on Sofi and her crew since they could be any old maniac snatching up girls. The ones from the locked houses? Those were courtesy of my maniac.

  And she had been such a sweet girl.

  Though it hasn’t been announced publicly, Sofi’s now in charge of Cloud Nein. At least that’s what Wolfgang says he’s heard from his sources. I’ve heard of hostile takeovers but killing the CEO and taking his head is a bit extreme, even for vampires. In the midst of such an upheaval, Sofi’s sure to be onsite. Or, at least that’s what we’re hoping. Where she’s taking the girls now that the Bulgarian headquarters is charcoal is anyone’s guess, but she’s running the show from here.

  In and out. As many casualties as it takes. No more, no less.

  Take out Sofi, get the amulet, and shut this hellish operation down.

  The car pulls up to the curb outside a short glass-walled office building. Not quite a skyscraper, but still a few dozen stories tall. Recently built. Hip-looking neighborhood. Wolfgang tells me this is the heart of Munich’s burgeoning tech scene.

  I open my door and step out onto the pavement. My fancy new dress shoes clack on the concrete. I tried to argue against it earlier, and I still feel like a bit of a clown. But one glimpse of my reflection in the car window, and I must admit I look damn good. Much better than back at the hideout before Wolfgang gave me a makeover.

  “You look like shit, Phoenix,” Wolfgang had said. “Where we are going, you must look crisp. Clean. We are not your Silicon Valley with the hoodies and Zuckerburgs.”

  I looked at in the mirror and the face looking back at reminded me I still hadn’t shaved since before that first trip to Paris all those weeks ago. Sure, I burned it all off when I torched myself, but it all grows back as soon as my body rebuilds itself Like in The Wolf Man when Lon Chaney goes from clean cut to mangy hairball in minutes flat. I don’t know how my body does it, but somehow it keeps track of about how hairy I’d been before I burned all that hair off and resets itself to as close an approximation as it can make. And since I hadn’t shaved in months, much less gotten a haircut, I did have a bit of that crazy mountain man hobo look going on.

  “We clean you up. Fitted for suit. Something nice. Clean and classic. Like James Bond.”

  “How the hell am I supposed to fight in a suit?” I asked.

  “I do it all the time. And so does Bond. And John Wick. Even Kingsman. You figure it out.”

  So, after a much-needed shower, they measured me and gave me a nice trim. As for what they did with the clothes I came in with? I’m not positive, but I think I caught Wolfgang dousing them with gasoline.

  Now, as I stand on the street outside one of Munich’s hottest tech startups, the reflection in the car window dons a sharp charcoal fitted suit, has a chin is as smooth as a baby’s ass and hair is cleaner cut than it’s been since his mom made him go to a salon before high school graduation. I even got the aviator Ray-Bans I asked for.

  I’m one dapper sonofabitch. Pity I’ll be covered in blood soon.

  “We go to 12th floor.” Wolfgang closes his door, and the car drives off. “Is Cloud Nein.”

  “Sounds like some kind of club.” I adjust my collar and pick up my briefcase. “Let’s party.”

  “It is not a club.” Wolfgang ignores my kickass line and heads toward the entrance. “It is a business. Very fancy. Lots of…” he rubs his fingers together in the international sign for money.

  “What is they do here again?”

  “Tech startup. Pharmaceutical. Like your Theranos but with actual product.”

  “Yeah, the vape stuff.” I step through a set of revolving doors into a modern, yet stylishly appointed lobby. No security. Kind of surprising, but I’m not about to complain.

  “Yes, the vape. Crimson Bliss. But much more. Mood therapy. Vape is just the quick moneymaker. They will find much more to do with this new discovery.”

  The elevator doors close and Wolfgang taps the button for floor twelve. I hum “The Girl from Ipanema” again, and don’t manage to produce a laugh from Wolfgang either. He takes his sidearm from its holster, checks the ammo, and puts it back. My own gun hangs inside my sport coat, hidden from view, but accessible should I need it. But we both know the first round’s on Wolfgang.

  Our ascent slows, and the elevator comes to a halt. A ding rings out, and the doors open into an open space filled with low cubicles. The brushed metal sign hanging on the raw wood wall behind the receptionist desk announces in lowercase letters we’ve arrived at Cloud Nein.

  Wolfgang draws his gun and starts firing.

  The first shot doesn’t hit anyone. It’s just a warning. An announcement.

  We. Are. Here.

  Back when we discussed the plan, there had been some talk of covert action. But we all knew there was no way to sneak in here. We had to come in guns blazing. During work hours the place would be full of regular employees, and they’d freak out. Enough distraction to give the real bad guys a harder time picking us off. Might have meant a few innocent casualties along the way, but when you’re working in the tech scene … are you really that innocent?

  Screams ring out, and a few dozen heads drop immediately from view. A guy in a security uniform races our way, waving his piece and shouting something in German. Wolfgang answers with a bullet between the eyes. Blood and brains spray out. This one’s human.

  I suddenly realize the place is wall-to-wall windows. No way in hell vampires would be able to survive in here. But then an alarm goes off, and the lights turn red, and steel shutters begin to close down over every window. I swing my briefcase onto the receptionist’s desk w
here it lands with a dull clunk, pop open the latches, and load up. All the while shots are ringing out from around me. People are screaming, and alarms are wailing. I pray Wolfgang’s showing some restraint and only killing bad guys.

  “Everyone, out of the building,” Wolfgang shouts. “If you do not leave, I will shoot. Do you understand?”

  The firing stops, and a crowd of people rushes by, all headed toward the elevator like cattle through an open gate. It fills in seconds, but still more people try to cram themselves in. The smart ones take the stairs.

  Another shot rings out, followed by the heavy thud of a body hitting the floor. I take up my crossbow in my right hand the briefcase in my left and forge ahead.

  The entire floor is dark now, aside from the red glow of the emergency lights. It’s like we’re inside a photographic darkroom. Up ahead I see Wolfgang, popping from row to row among the cubicles. I step over a body, careful not to slip in the bloody puddle where his head used to be.

  “All is clear. For now.” Despite the action, Wolfgang’s voice is calm and steady. I don’t think he’s broken a sweat. “You go on, I will cover this entrance.”

  So far, everything has gone according to plan. I’m up next.

  Now let’s find out how well I can follow directions.

  Chapter Forty-One

  I enter the second room, the glow of emergency lights casting a hellish crimson gloom across a central area filled with a maze of low-rise cubicles. Glass-walled offices line the two sides of the room, and far ahead, I can just make out the dull reflection of lights against a wall of one-way privacy glass. If our map is right, and so far, it has been, Sofi’s office is on the other side of that wall.

  I wonder if she can see me.

  The room appears empty, but I’m a keen believer in the saying that looks can be deceiving. I wish I had the forethought to ask for a replacement pair of night-vision goggles, but you know what they say about wishes. At least by now, my eyes have mostly adjusted to the dark. Still, I’m at a huge disadvantage against any vamps that might be lurking in the shadows here. I scan the room and breathe a sigh of relief as the alarms die down.

  In my version of the plan, this is the part where I would have put on my fancy new headphones, cranked up the volume, and started listening to “Connected” by Stereo MCs. I’ve always thought that would be a kickass tune for a monster-killing track. But when I brought the idea up to Wolfgang, he quickly shut it down, arguing that I needed to be able to hear my surroundings … something about being one with my environment. I disagreed. Said the headphones I want have this fancy new ambient sound technology so I’d be able to hear everything around me, even with the sound on, but he didn’t buy into my argument. I’m pretty sure he was being cheap, but now that I’m in this situation, I can see his point. When you can’t see worth a damn, you’ve got to rely on your other senses, and although vampires stink, I ain’t no bloodhound. So, sound it is. One with the environment. I’m silent, like a ninja.

  A badass ninja with a vampire-killing crossbow and a whole lot of other toys, ready to bring the pain.

  I take a step forward, my shoes silent on the carpet.

  Another step.

  I look left. I look right.

  I pause and hold my breath, listening. All I hear are the echoes of muffled screams from the room Wolfgang cleared.

  I crouch down low. As low as I can get without cramping my legs. But these damn modern open-office-concept cubicles don’t give me much of a place to hide. A blessing and a curse, I suppose. No place to hide for me means no place to hide for them.

  Something crashes to the floor off to my right. I swing my crossbow over and stare down the sights. Nothing there. At least nothing I can see.

  I consider ignoring it. Move forward. Get to the door. Get to Sofi and put an end to all this bullshit.

  Another sound to my left—this one more a whoosh than a crash. A few sheets of paper flutter in the air like something fast rushed by and caught them in its wake.

  Left? Right? Or just make a run for it?

  A light crackling sound from somewhere ahead of me, but I can’t see a thing. I can smell it, though. That burnt copper stink. One of those bastards in here having a puff of the old Crimson Bliss.

  I take a step in the direction of the nearest office—the closest place I can imagine the bastard hiding.

  Then another step.

  Before my foot hits the ground, he’s rushing at me, out of the murky shadows like a fleshy bullet — the red of the lights catching in his eyes, reflecting against his huge black pupils. I fire my crossbow and catch him in the right shoulder. It knocks him back but doesn’t slow him down. No time to reload. He’s less than a yard away from me, and the stink of his breath almost makes me gag, but I manage to pull a glow stick from my inside pocket and slam it into his chest as he closes the final gap between us.

  Direct hit. He bursts into flames, staggers back, and blows up in a mess of chunky gore.

  I spin on my heel and search the room to make sure no one’s coming from behind and load another bolt into the crossbow. Other than the steady drip-drip-drip of blood from what’s left of vampire number one, the room is silent. I step past what’s left of the body and take the left side. Figure if anything else is coming, it’s coming from the right. Might as well get as much distance between me and it as I can.

  As I pass the entrance to each office, I poke my head in and do a quick scan. Aside from some laptops and way too many inspirational posters, they’re empty.

  Not much farther. Just two more offices on my left and I’ll hit the far wall. The wall with the door to Sofi’s office.

  Is she watching?

  Is she laughing?

  Movement to my right. On the far side of the room, past the cubicles. Must have been hiding in the office. Another vampire crouches down against the wall, and his beady eyes are catching the light like tiny fireballs. A second one’s here somewhere too. Can’t see him, but I can hear him—his raspy breath giving away his presence. The problem is, I don’t know where that one’s hiding.

  I can’t worry about him right now. I need to focus on what I can see. I duck down low, out of sight, and line up my crossbow in the approximate direction I saw the vampire. When I pop up from cover, he’s still there, and before he can move, I fire. The bolt lodges itself in his right eye socket, and I quickly load up another. As he’s reeling, I fire again. Straight into the heart. Slam. Bang. Boom. Explosion.

  Number two’s down, but number three takes advantage of the distraction and rushes me from the rear of the room, near where I entered. His body slams into me, knocking us both to the ground, and all I hear are snarls and snapping jaws. The air smells like someone ate a used diaper, shat it out, then ate that shit, and then shat it out its mouth.

  We roll around a bit, and it’s all I can do to keep him from ripping my throat out. Then, when he’s on top of me, I do the biggest donkey kick I can. His ribs crack from the blow, and he’s off. I scramble to my feet and grab another glow stick. We’re staring each other down like two wrestlers, ready for a first takedown, then he bolts to his left, down the hallway and up to the glass privacy wall. He raps on the glass three times, and the doors swing open. In come another half dozen vampires. I make a mental count of my ammo.

  They’re coming at me slowly, like a wave of infantrymen. Only instead of bayonets, these are bearing fangs. I take a step back. Then another. And another, until I’m backed up against the wall right next to the door I came in through.

  I slip my hand into my front coat pocket and wrap it around a metal puck. My index finger finds the button on top, and I press it down until it goes click. I toss it into the center of the room and shield my eyes. Even with my eyelids closed, the flash burns at my retinas. A second later, I open my eyes and am met with a half dozen flaming vampires staggering around the office. As they burn up, they fall to the ground and crumble into clouds of dust.

  I scan the room. Stacks of paper and the odd office ch
air burn, but nothing moves. Pretty sure that was the last of them. Within seconds I’m at the other end of the room, my hand on the warm metal of the door handle to Sofi’s office.

  I take a deep breath and turn the knob.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Other than the expected furniture, Sofi’s office is empty. On the wall to the right of the door, there’s a switch marked “shutters.” I hit it and the shutters open. Bright, blinding sunlight streams into the room. If there were any vampires in here before, they’re gone now.

  Where the fuck is she?

  I search through her desk and find nothing other than some contracts waiting for a signature. Her computer’s locked with a password. Nothing inside the desk other than a few pens and a stapler.

  Then I see it, almost hidden, it’s been built into the wall so well—another door.

  I gently open it and find a staircase leading up to the 13th floor.

  Chapter Forty-Three

  When I reach the top of the stairs, I find another door, and it’s unlocked. I step through and find myself in a luxurious penthouse apartment. Metal shutters cover the windows, but the place is lit up with candles like someone’s ready for a dinner party.

  I find myself in a living room with a big-screen TV and a pretty badass sound system. I recognize the song pumping from the speakers. It’s Love Like a Sunset by Phoenix.

  I pass through a dining room and a stark white modern kitchen. Opal granite countertops sparkle under the recessed lighting. Not a thing is out of place.

  This is so unlike Sofi.

  “Anyone here?” I call out. “Sofi? It’s me, Phoenix.”

  I don’t expect anyone to answer, but like always, Sofi surprises me.

  “In the bedroom,” she calls out in a nonchalant voice. Like she’s my wife, and she just needs a few more minutes to put on her makeup before we head out for our weekly Friday dinner date at The Red Lobster.