This is how you die slowly from a vampire.
-:- Twenty-Eight -:-
Garin and Brett sat in the back of Branoc’s car. The black car idled at the end of Garin’s driveway. The engine purred with no direction to go. Yet.
Brett asked, “Is it ten?”
“Soon,” Garin stared out the window at the horses next door munching on grass inside the wood fence.
Branoc said, “That’s the time they called yesterday. If we are to give them the container numbers and identifying marks, they need to call us soon. Otherwise those containers will be ship-bound.”
Branoc’s phone buzzed softly. Then louder. He answered it with the speaker-phone.
“Well boys. I see you had a productive night.”
“We loaded the equipment on two containers and marked them –”
“– We already have them in possession.”
“How did you know?” asked Brett.
“Like we said, we watch that facility closely.”
Garin opened his computer and it latched onto the wireless Internet signal from his house. The booster “cantenna” proved its good investment for the three dollars in parts he’d used to build it last year. His phone reached for the cell tower atop of the water tower a mile away. Garin used his cell phone plugged into the USB port to link to it and route the tower ID to his Internet servers. The servers did their work. His new software, updated the previous night, reached out along the call strings and found his as well as Branoc’s. Then he kicked in a second layer software patch that flooded the other calls. Many angry cell phone users would be screaming at their dropped calls. He saw the line hooked to Branoc’s cell from the outside. He traced it back through the phone company and over the vampire net. The code ran like hounds pursuing a scent along the dark fiber revealing its secrets. The screen dropped another silent dot to update the lord observing his hounds on the chase. The route cut across underground cables, deep-sea intercontinental fiber networks, bounced from satellite to satellite, through several countries rounding the Horn of Africa where the hounds turned through a fiber network plowing across China. This is where the jumpsuit assassins made their mistake and allowed Garin to track them. Their routing went along a traditional fiber and not the vampire net. He licked his lip and followed the dogs. They next popped at Hawaii before diving beneath the waves reaching to San Francisco. The hounds sped up over the Rockies and across the plains. They rounded the lake from Chicago into Michigan. The signal flipped across two university networks and then North of Ann Arbor into the Marybend State forests. The run of the hounds took barely a dozen milliseconds to reach the source.
“– So you know there are two containers splashed with paint?”
“Yes. They are going through the Zeeb Road truck stop wash station now. We’ll send those trucks on to our intended rendezvous from there.”
Brett asked, “Where is Anna? You have what you wanted, we want Anna.”
“We haven’t yet fully received the cargo. You can’t expect we give up our bargaining chip yet. You could have the trucks diverted.”
“They’re not at Zeeb Road are they?” said Branoc, his hand resting heavily on the steering wheel.
“Good guess Branoc. Can you guess where?”
“No and you probably repainted the containers already and hooked new rigs on the front to drag them around without detection.”
“Very good Branoc. I see why you’re in the career you chose for yourself. And Brett, since your friendly Militia saw fit to poison the Massai supply we can only reliably drink live humans. And that girl you’re concerned about is what we have here to sustain ourselves. Garin, you did receive the incentive vial?”
Branoc gripped the steering wheel. The hard vinyl gave away to the power of his fingers.
“It took us a while to find but Brighton became a bad choice to hide that equipment. Easy to extract it from that scientist Gale once he had the loss of his daughter on his hands. Then we destroyed the equipment and research notes.”
“Was that you at the aluminum plant vampire office?” asked Branoc.
“My team, yes. Those silly simple terrorist vampires not following the vampire rules. A danger to us all. However, we used their work. We have their detonators now. Like we needed for our little project.”
“– When will we get Anna returned?” asked Brett.
“We will call you again.”
Garin growled low, “That’s not good enough. We upheld our bargain. You now have advanced equipment with the capability of growing any dangerous bioweapon you choose.”
“Garin, I wondered when I’d hear your voice again,” said Claire coming closer to the other phone.
Garin popped the door open, “I need some air.” He dropped his computer on the seat. The door closed softly and Garin vanished in a blur. Branoc saw Garin in his rear view mirror leap crashing through the glass windows into the second story of his house.
Branoc reached for the door handle but paused as Claire continued, unknowing that Garin had left, “Garin, your girlfriend is tasty.”
Brett picked up Garin’s computer and saw a red dot centered in a yellow triangle surrounded by a satellite image of forests. Miles and miles of forests. Map grid lines and thin little dirt roads knifed across the woods miles apart and well away from the red dot. The screen faded to black and went out! Brett touched a key and the computer demanded a password to view its contents. “Claire, where are you?”
“Await our call. Brett, I look forward to seeing you again,” a hungry lilt filled her voice like a devil’s grin across the phone.
“I don’t.”
Brett lifted the computer finding Garin’s cell phone still plugged into it. Garin’s second burner phone lay on the floor mat glistening in gray-black plastic and reflecting glass.
“Aww. I think you do.,” she said.
Branoc saw Garin flit passed the car across the road and through a subdivision of massive brick McMansions the size of apartment buildings and through a far tree line. Even matching his vampire speed he had no hope of catching Garin with that lead. Branoc knew he needed to keep the kidnappers from realizing Garin had gone. Safest to limit the conversation.
“Goodbye,” Branoc said. “Play fair and give me a call when you’re ready next.” Branoc’s mind went over the details of Garin’s fleeting form and what he carried with him from the house. Garin clenched two shiny black Katana scabbards
Branoc knew Garin should not have gone alone.
-:- Twenty-Nine -:-
Garin slowed his pace as the ridge following the stream smoothed down and disappeared under the tree canopy of black cherry and maples. The trees aged at least a hundred to possibly two hundred years and rose straight to the sky. The stoutest trees thickened to two and a half feet across and covered the forest floor in a sturdy canopy drowning everything but the trickiest undergrowth.
Uncle Tremper, when teaching him how to use his swords also taught him a few other survival skills that he brought from the back of his memories. He had said, “Stalking prey often requires more stealth than speed or strength.” His uncle had him practice when he still lived as a human. Stalking deer in the forest and woodchucks in the fields. “Step slowly and in a straight line rolling from your outer foot,” and had him sit for hours watching house cats approach a mouse or squirrel including remaining downwind barely twitching an ear. “That is how you hunt everything – including humans.”
Or vampires.
Garin hunched low and moved quietly between the trees. The vampires might have a guard perimeter and their sense of hearing would be as acute as his own. The stalking gait took too long but he knew if he sped up then surprise and saving Anna would be lost.
Behind a tree he paused, like a cat freezing, he moved his eyes around to scan for any movement and strained his ears. Nothing came to him except the calling birds and buzzing bugs. So far, he had not even aroused the chipmunks or squirrels that like to chirp warnings throughout the wood. He slowly moved
forward.
He first saw the disturbed leaves like a shuffling walk and broken twigs hanging crooked on the thin underbrush. One set of stumbling woman’s shoes that he guessed as Anna’s but as he looked, he saw the marks of other boots with surer strides. The patterns disguised how many moved ahead of him. He avoided loose rocks that could tip or grind against one another and maintained his cautious approach across the uneven leaf littered ground. Garin reached down, brushed aside several loose blowing leaves, and saw they must have stopped and had a conversation or exchanged orders.
A squirrel chirped in a nearby tree. Garin froze. He scanned the trunks of the trees that only stood silent and dark. Then he saw the sheen of light filtering from the canopy touch against a blond wisp of hair poking from a black cap. Her face watched the route away from Garin. He peered around and of the four tree trunks close enough to reach, three of them had an unusually large clump of undergrowth around their bases that would rattle a warning if he came close to them.
The face scanned like a searchlight across the forest. She wore the black jumpsuit uniform of the others and would be looking at him soon. His jeans and black shirt only made him easier to see in the green living wood. Garin wiggled his shoes into the ground to ensure he stood solidly and he leaped up and forward. He froze clutching the trunk with his fingers sunk in the wood and letting his body dangle. He kept infinitely still.
The squirrel still chattered near the blond vampire, scolding and warning her to keep her distance. Garin knew he had made some unavoidable sound but he needed to remain absolutely still and listen for her possible approach. Tending toward impatience with what his uncle had taught him, he learned that reciting the Declaration of Independence in his mind provided the right duration that prey stopped worrying about a previous sound. Garin completed half of it when the squirrel stopped chipping. Garin kept running the words through his head while listening for other sounds but nothing except the clashing of fighting ant mandibles and the crunching nibbles of caterpillars came to his vampire ears – nothing that seemed like an alarm among the animals.
Garin carefully eased an eye around the edge of the trunk. The vampire had gone. Did she leave and warn the others? Did she sneak silently around the trees to surprise him? Had she stepped back so a tree blocked the squirrel’s sight of her?
A bird moved in the branches overhead. Then a ruffling sound like a small flag in the wind. Garin looked up and wisps of blond hair dropped from the sky. He released the tree landing in the leaves crouching with a sword in each hand. The assassin kicked away from the tree and landed on her feet skimming her own sword from its scabbard.
The assassin attacked in the shadow among the toes of the old black cherry trees.
Garin swept his leg against hers but she spun back remaining standing, her sword slicing above Garin’s head. Garin turned his arm mirroring hers so they came nearly back to back. She bumped him with her hip and kicked back with her foot to catch Garin’s knee. He spun out and back to hit her knee knowing the crunch and pop telling him he hit the right angle.
Uncle Tremper had grilled him as a teen that his greatest threat to longevity after overcoming his own moody elation or depression is other vampires. They will match or exceed your strength. Like a runner, wearing weights during training, his uncle taught him to fight against a vampire’s speed when he remained but a human. “Most vampires learn the sword after they become a vampire and fight mostly humans. You will learn to fight now so the skills will transfer and magnify.”
The assassin’s sword flipped around and slid up between them. Garin met the blade with the base of his sword near the guard. The knee had not fazed the assassin and it healed quickly. She must be drinking human blood. He guessed who’s blood. The assassin pushed closer, her golden hair falling free over her shoulders as her cap fell back, “Good technique on the knee.” She pulled out a small dagger for her free hand and pressed forward.
The assassin’s blades wove dangerously close. Her sword came down and Garin put his sword up to parry and twist away. The assassin moved forward off balance but Garin could not take advantage of it. She turned and spun her sword like a pinwheel. Lunging, parrying, and slicing across Garin. Their blades rattled against each other. Lunge. Parry. Spin. They slammed into each other. Garin found a purchase running up a tree trunk and thrust his sword over the assassin’s completed swing then through her rib cage. He twisted the blade as he pulled it out. She staggered back trying to seal the massive hole shut but blood and air sucked through the wound.
Garin kicked her in the chest knocking her back against a tree. He leaped and blocked her raised sword with his left sword while his right sword sliced clean and straight through the assassin’s neck. The sheared blond tips of her shoulder length locks bloodied as the head and hair fell to the ground.
Garin moved forward. The path lead to a rotting and tumble-down gray shack. Its roof bright green in a massive soggy moss covering. The windows, those that still held upright in crumbling and mossy wooden frames, shimmered with discolored dust and mold.
His shoes touched a strip of knee-length unmanaged grass that ended at a gravel ring around the house washed clear by decades of rain from the eaves. The garage door stood shut with rusty splotches. Maybe it had been painted white in some prior history. The parking lot and driveway leading away from the garage left undisturbed for so long that trees and shrubs filled much of it eager to reclaim forest. Garin didn’t see any movement behind the windows.
A shadow leaped around the corner of the cabin. An assassin brought her sword down smashing into Garin’s shoulder through his shirt and into his collarbone. The metal ground out of his body as his bones gripped the steel. He shifted his stance and willed his remaining muscles to grip her blade. He swung his other sword around shearing off both arms above her elbows. He dropped his sword and gripped her short curly hair pulling her head aside. His fangs clamped her neck and drew her strength in a torrent. He dropped her pale empty husk, slicing his sword across her neck, the pieces tumbling into the grass. He pulled her sword from his shoulder and his bones, nerves, and muscles healed quickly. He gripped his two swords and treaded softly forward.
The T-handle on the garage door twisted slowly from the inside. The catches on the door popped and the door sprung out. Whoever tried opening it halted, trying for silence but the door had given them away.
Garin dropped below the windows of the porch and moved mutely toward the garage. Someone lifted the garage door slowly, nearly imperceptibly, with the restrained power of a vampire. Garin scanned the house and listened for another attacker trying to surround him but everywhere the house seemed silent.
He crouched until he could see two pairs of boots shimmering in the sliver of light dousing the old concrete floor under the gap below the door. Garin leaped at the door from his hidden cove. The ancient steel of his swords sliced from their tips at his extended arms at the outer sides of the expansive door and crossed each other on their way out as his arms carried them around his body in a deathly hug. The rent in the door boiled blood from the two vampire bodies that slapped wetly on the cement behind the door.
Three vampires in jumpsuits streamed from the gaping cold maw of the garage like angry black bats. Garin flipped over onto the widest open space of the old driveway. One fired a pistol at him but he quickly circled the other two vampires putting them between. Their swords flitted in the air at him. The first strikes notched their swords against his. He spun and struck forward expecting the assassin to block his blow so he put power into the swing. He knew doing so would make the strike clumsy and potentially deadly for himself but his sword caught theirs and sheared through it an inch above the cross-guard. The assassin cursed in German and dropped her useless weapon, reaching for a long dagger at her belt. Garin flicked his other sword up and split through the assassin’s chin. Slicing off her lower jaw and fangs. The second sword sought his arm but he blocked, spun, and sliced through the vampire’s thigh. The vampire slumped forward try
ing to keep righted by hopping. Garin brought his sword around and severed the vampire’s head. He pushed his sword through the body in front of him until his cross-guard punched the body into the air. The body collided with the pistol firing assassin. He sprang to the side to catch the back of her neck with his sword.
A sword brushed near to Garin’s ear as the toothless assassin attacked. The visage on her face a horror of knitting flesh reconstructing itself. He trapped her sword with his own and kicked her. The assassin tumbled back and Garin spun his blades like drums on side loading washing machines carving two big caverns from the center of the vampire that including taking both arms off. He split both swords out in an arc that severed her neck. He sprinted back to the garage where the first two vampires stretched across the concrete reassembling themselves. Their viciousness fading from their eyes with his sword shearing through their necks.
Garin ran across the empty garage. A stack of shelves against the house wall held the vampire’s personal and professional tools. But on a ledge at eye level by itself sat a small wooden trivet, a pair of vampire fangs glinting on it. He halted and scooped up the fangs that, like fingerprints, uniquely identified every vampire. He recognized these as his mother’s, taken when the assassins methodically and brutally murdered her. He dropped the teeth into his pocket, his anger rising as he sprang down the set of crumbly steps into the crypt-cold ground.
-:- Thirty -:-
I heard hushed voices chattering in the garage. Something happening out there beyond the door. I strained my ears but I couldn’t understand anything. Other than what seemed as anger, worry, demands, and orders. Icy silence came quickly. Then a sudden screeching of steel on steel ripped out of the garage beyond my door. A noise so loud it cut through the floor above my head. Quickly followed by vampire shrieks and noises of battle and a rapid pistol firing.
The Vampires Of Livix Twin Pack (Volumes #1 & #2) Page 33