by Hunter Blain
“Well, alrighty then,” Depweg said with a grin he couldn’t hide.
Turning to Ben, he asked, “I assume you’ll be going in your cat-suit?”
“I prefer claws over bullets.”
“Understandable,” Depweg agreed before pulling on his vest and briefly demonstrating its stretching capabilities. I knew it was his way of saying he went both ways. There was a joke there, but I didn’t feel like saying it out loud.
“Heh, both ways,” I let out under my breath.
“What was that?” Depweg asked, turning to me with a cocked eyebrow.
“No-nothing,” I answered sheepishly, pretending to find something interesting on my own weapon.
Depweg grabbed the Lapua rifle, inserted a beefy-looking magazine, and shouldered the weapon. I noticed he didn’t have any MOLLE attachments on his chest, opting to use the backpack I had grabbed to hold his gear instead.
“Hayley,” Depweg started, drawing the warden’s attention. “I brought extra gear, just in case. Keep yourself safe. We don’t know what’ll happen after we begin the attack.”
Hayley’s stern expression seemed to diminish a tad as she nodded once and looked at the bag as Depweg brought it over to her.
“If we aren’t back by 0800, consider us MIA and seek reinforcements from wherever you can. Copy?”
“Understood,” Hayley agreed before pulling the spare vest out for herself and setting it on her lap. It was then that I noticed she didn’t have her cloak.
I opened my mouth to ask her where it was, but I knew it was probably in the destroyed house surrounded by humans, or had already been collected and taken away, if they were done evaluating the site.
An idea came to me then.
Pulling up my phone, I went to my messages and texted Collin, “Hey, buddy. Um, there was this thing in Germany...and Hayley’s gear might have been confiscated by the mortals. Think you could, I don’t know...get it back? Pretty please? And pretend I sent some emojis or something to help sweeten the deal. I don’t know what each of the things mean yet. One looks like poop, but I’m told it was supposed to be yogurt. Another looks like someone praying, but it actually means a high five or something. And don’t get me started on the eggplant...I mean, I know what that one is because...I’m a dude. But anyway. Can you get her stuff back? K, thanks, bye!”
After a few seconds, the lightsaber tone informed me that my friend had replied.
“I’ll see what I can do.”
In an appropriate response, I sent back the eggplant emoji, followed by some raindrops, and ended with a smiling man’s face. I was disappointed when the storyboard didn’t animate. Apparently, in today’s time, you could basically paint a story using emojis, and they would animate accordingly. I suppose it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility that the creators had algorithms specifically made to prevent people like me from abusing the function. Their loss.
Anyway.
Everyone filed out of the hut, leaving me alone with Hayley.
Looking over to her, I was going to try and say something meaningful, but my brain just wasn’t really cut out for that kind of stuff.
Luckily for me, she was inspecting the extra automatic rifle and Glock I had brought. Though I had hoped she wasn’t going to join us in battle, I wanted to make sure she was at least well-defended.
“Knife,” she flatly demanded while examining the magazines.
“Huh?”
“Knife, numbnuts,” she said more aggressively, holding out her hand expectantly.
I patted my pockets in search of a knife I knew wasn’t there.
“Here,” Depweg said from outside, pushing his hand through the open door. In his grasp was a belt buckle knife.
Taking it, I walked to Hayley, holding the small blade in my palm.
She glanced up at it for a fraction of a second before returning her gaze to the weapons laid out in front of her. Grabbing the knife, she set it down next to the firearms and shooed me away with her hand.
Confused, I decided she knew what she was doing, and left the hut to join the others.
“Let’s move out,” Depweg said as he pulled up his phone and checked the Maps app. There was a plotted path that wound through the woods and ended at our destination.
“How—” I started to ask when Depweg answered the question for me.
“Hayley showed me where it was while you took your time getting the weapons.”
“Hey! And talking to Papa T! He says hi, by the way.”
“How is he?” Depweg asked almost in a soft tone.
“He’s actually doing pretty good, man. I think he’s been exercising as well as taking Doc Jim’s potion more regularly.”
“Makes sense,” Depweg mused, looking at the ground with unfocused eyes as he slowly nodded in understanding.
“How’s that?”
“He’s preparing for the end of the story, making himself stronger in the likelihood that he will have to join the battle.”
“I...what?! No! He...he can’t fight...eh...whe...yeh...” Words morphed into grunts as emotion overtook my ability to formulate complete sentences.
“You and I both know how he is, John. And if he can make himself even a fraction as powerful as when you first met him, then he will be more than useful.”
My mind replayed the events of our first meeting on the banks of the river where I used to hide my leftovers. Father Thomes Philseep had been a dangerous adversary who had nearly cut me down with ease. Only the fact that he had been curious about the vampire-that-was-trying-to-do-good had kept me alive.
A shudder went up my spine as I remembered how powerful he was, and how close I had come to death. I don’t think I had ever seen his true power, and that was even more impressive and terrifying. On the flip side, I was a little envious of someone that strong not flaunting his abilities openly. I mean, I was totes guilty of doing just that on more than one occasion. Well, more than one but less than infinity. Somewhere in between.
“John?” Depweg asked, breaking me from my meandering train of thought.
“Hmm? Oh, hey, buddy. Was just...just thinking about Father Thomes. I think you’re right. If he is getting stronger this close to the end...” My words trailed off as the implications took hold.
“He’s not doing it because he doesn’t have faith in you, John. It’s simply a precaution. Same reason people lock their doors when they leave and even wear their seat belt. No one is expecting the worst to happen, but it is better to be prepared.”
“Ah. The olllllld condom saying. How does it go? Better to have one and promise that you put it on when, in fact, you just held up the wrapper?”
“Something like that. You don’t use prophylactics very often, do you?”
“Vamps are immune to all STDs, including kids. Which is a good thing, too, because I can’t even pull out of the driveway.”
Depweg choked on nothing before belting out a throaty laugh. Ben covered the widening smile on his mouth that crinkled the corners of his eyes, while Meli crossed her arms and glared.
“What? It’s true!” I protested, holding both hands out with palms up and shrugging my shoulders.
In answer, Meli turned to face away from the group of guys.
“Okay, okay. Time to get serious,” I told the team. “How long will it take us to get there?”
Depweg checked his phone before saying, “If we hustle, about an hour on foot.”
“Hmph,” I said, nodding to Ben and Meli. “Convenient placement of your hut, huh? I’m guessin’ Gabe set that up too?”
Ben nodded before glancing at his sister, who was still staring off into the distance. The number of IFAKs on her belt looked comical, but served as a form of reassurance. If I recalled correctly, Doc Jim had given Depweg a few vials of superspecial sauce to save us supes should we succumb to...to...to another S word...s’bullets or s’fireballs.
“Oh,” I let out as I remembered something of vast importance. Depweg looked to me, and I nodded my head to
move away from the group. It was merely symbolic, as I was confident the werekitties could hear us just fine.
Depweg stood next to me, crossing his arms as he awaited what I had to say.
“Ulric has his own armor now,” I said somberly, thinking about Val.
To his credit, Depweg only tightened the muscles of his jaw a few times, which was the equivalent of me running around naked, on fire, and screaming in incoherent rage. Or something like that. Either way, I knew he wasn’t happy, though he was handling the information exceedingly well.
“Are you capable of neutralizing him?” he asked with militaristic professionalism, which might be an oxymoron, now that I think about it.
I took in a long breath and forced my gaze to meet his. His eyes flicked between mine, searching for the secrets within.
“I don’t know. I couldn’t beat him before I had Da’s armor back. Now he has the Spear of Destiny and celestial armor. Not to mention he’s the freaking Grand Master Warlock. Lilith, I hate that man!”
“What weaknesses does the armor possess?”
I thought for a moment, trying to figure out anything that had nearly cost me my life when in battle. Only one thing kept coming up.
“When the armor is separated, I lose my celestial abilities. Like when you...um...”
“Ripped you in half,” Depweg finished, strangely accepting of the words, whereas I couldn’t even speak them aloud.
“Ye-yeah. That.”
“He will focus on you in the battle. I’ll have to move in on the flank to get my hands around him.”
“I, ah...I don’t like how close you’ll have to be to him to...to do that.”
“Doesn’t matter what we like. All that matters is we complete our objective, which includes subduing Ulric.”
“I honestly think we should just kill the bastard,” I grumbled, crossing my arms. I knew what I was saying was childish and shortsighted, but FUCK that guy. Seriously. What a dick.
Lily flashed across my vision, and I let my arms and chin drop. Depweg must have seen my change of heart because he didn’t mention anything further.
“We got this, brother,” Depweg comforted, resting a heavy hand on my shoulder.
I lifted my face to look at him, and feigned a smile. Depweg nodded, acknowledging my attempt, and moved to lead us to our inevitable future, and the unknown within.
35
The group began moving as a unit with Depweg in the lead. I turned to look over my shoulder as the hut began diminishing in size as I moved. The absence of light from the early morning didn’t affect the vision of anyone in the party, least of all me.
Once again facing forward, I saw that the group had already put some distance between us, prompting me to play catch-up.
We marched in silence, not because there was nothing to say but because we were on an active mission.
From where I brought up the rear (heh, rear), I could see Meli glancing at where Depweg led and then quickly looking out to the side as if ashamed.
Interesting, I thought to myself. Maybe the kitty duddn’t like the doggo?
After what could have been ten minutes or nearly an hour, I wasn’t entirely sure, Depweg stopped, holding up his fist to signal the group.
We halted before huddling up, with Depweg turning to crouch. We followed suit.
Whispering, he said, “We are one klick from the target.” Depweg brought up his phone and showed us on the holoscreen where we were in relation to our target.
From what I could see, we appeared to be near the edge of one of the many wooded areas in the country, surrounded by cities that sounded suspiciously like IKEA furniture.
There, in a small industrial area, was our target.
“Holy...sandwiches...Batman,” I eloquently stated as Depweg zoomed in on the biggest structure, which looked like an expensive office building nestled among old warehouses. It stuck out like...like...something that sticks out a lot. Like a Great Dane at a kitten hootenanny. Maybe a shindig.
My conscious thought tapped on my shoulder before pointing at Depweg, who was in midconversation.
Ah, shit. Thanks, I said to myself, which was increasingly odd now that I didn’t have another sentient entity living inside my brain. It was lonely in there now. It was like in Step Brothers where they make bunk beds to have so much more room for activities...only there was no John C. Reilly to my Will Ferrell.
My mind backhanded me in the chest, hard, and aggressively pointed at Depweg again.
Right! Focus!
“—and since we don’t have mortar or air support to soften the target, we will need to clear each room, floor by floor, until all the hostiles have been neutralized, and the bomb has been planted.”
“Ba-Bomb? Did...did you say Ba-Bomb?” I asked with growing excitement in my voice.
“Yes, John. I said bomb,” Depweg reiterated, holding out a cube the size of a regular die or pool cue chalk.
“Where’d you get that?” I asked in awe, knowing big things came in small packages. Or at least that’s what Lily always told me.
“Taylor had it special made. He said I’d know when to use it.”
“Isn’t that annoying?” I exhaled sharply as I threw my hands up. “What’s with all of our friends being so damn vague? What do they think this is, a book series or some shit? Why the hell can’t they just say, ‘oh, bee-tee-dubs, you’re gonna need this bomb to, like, totally blow up a warlock base.’”
“You done?” Depweg asked with a deadpan face.
“Question,” I continued, holding up an index finger. “Caaaaan we call it Ba-Bomb?”
“That’s some kind of movie reference, isn’t it?” Depweg asked, rubbing his eyes with his free hand.
I let out with a quick chuckle as I said, “I mean, I guess it could be from the cinematic masterpiece Super Mario Bros. starring Bob Hoskins and John Linguine.”
“Leguizamo,” Meli corrected sharply. I looked at her as if for the first time, sizing up my movie trivia opponent.
“Right. That’s what I said. Lego-zambo.” Returning my attention to Depweg, I finished with, “But no. I meant the game franchise, Mario, not that superb specimen of peak filmmaking.”
“Fine,” Depweg conceded with only a brief sigh of annoyance. I had to give him credit for letting me have the tiny win and focusing on what was important. Wish I could do that. “As I was saying—”
“Kill ’em all! Like that Metallica album. Not my favorite, by the way.”
“If you don’t shut the hell up, I’m going to rip you in half,” Depweg challenged, glaring at me with eyes that promised he would do just that...again, I mean.
“Eep,” I confidently retorted in a tone that was in no way within the octave register used by small rodents.
“I will scout the area from here,” Depweg pointed at a spot on the map that appeared to have no significance until he rotated the screen using his free hand and revealed it was on a hilltop.
“I can help,” Ben eagerly said. Clearly, this dude was ready for some action. My kind of fella.
Depweg looked up at the werekitty, giving him a thorough once over.
“Okay. You get in close and listen for radio chatter. More than likely, any sentries we find will be checking in every ten to fifteen minutes.”
“Got it,” Ben replied.
Looking back and forth between the two, I asked, “What does that have to do with anything?”
“It means—” Depweg started before Ben excitedly finished for him.
“It means I’ll signal whenever I hear them check in, and he takes them out with his suppressed rifle.”
“Right,” Depweg agreed. “Doing this will buy us time to get in close without being spotted or alerting those inside that there’s a problem.”
“OOOoohhh! Because if you took ’em out right before they were supposed to check in...I get ya. I get ya,” I announced, nodding my head in understanding.
“Glad you could join us in the conversation,” Depweg chided b
efore shifting his focus back to the map.
“Well...I...”
“Focus, John,” Depweg instructed without looking up from the map. “Okay, Ben. I’ll set up on the hill and wait for you to signal,” he zoomed in on the warehouses on the perimeter before pointing, “here. Melissa will have the binoculars while I keep my sights on the targets.”
“Meli,” she corrected.
“Meli,” Depweg said, looking up at the young woman.
They looked at each other for a moment before both pulled away to glance—pointedly—at the map.
“Um, w-t-f was that?” I asked, sounding out the letters and pointing back and forth between the two.
“John,” Depweg warned.
Shrugging my shoulders, I abandoned my question.
“So, ah, what do I do?” I asked, feeling a tad left out with everyone else having super important jobs.
“When shit hits the fan, you’re going to be a one-man army.”
“Like Rambo?” I asked, pure joy lifting my voice as I shook my clenched fists in excitement.
“Exactly like Rambo,” Depweg confirmed. “You’ll be able to draw fire and allow one of us to plant the bomb on the bottommost level of the compound.”
My happy, shaking fists slowed before falling to my thighs.
“I’m the Robin to your Batman...aren’t I?”
“How so?” Depweg asked, not understanding my reference.
“When Batman was asked why he wears a dark costume, he replied, ‘So bad guys don’t shoot me.’ Then when asked why Robin wears a bright costume, Batman said with a smile, ‘So bad guys don’t shoot me.’”
“Ah, I see your point,” Depweg admitted. “Yes. Yes, that’s precisely what I’m talking about, Robin.” I could hear the stupid smile in his voice that he was trying to keep off his face.
“Fine,” I grumbled, crossing my arms and kicking at a stick on the ground. I missed the first time, which pissed me off for some reason, and kicked again. This time, I got it and the ground underneath, sending a small explosion of dirt into the woods.
Everyone looked at me in stunned silence.
“Oops,” was all I could offer.
Meli smirked, and I glowered at her. She pointed down toward my feet, and there, mocking me, was the stupid stick resting in the crater.