Blood Stakes

by Upton, Bradley

  John glanced at his watch. It was night time. They were awake and aware of their losses.

  Maggie was taken to see Captain Walters of homicide. Her nervousness increased to paranoid levels as she was made to wait. She hadn’t been processed; no finger prints or mugshots were taken of her. That was unusual. Her job was protecting her for the moment. But her career on the force was in jeopardy if not already over. The episode at the church would be difficult to explain coherently without being thought insane. Refusing to say anything was an option. It might be the smartest way to go or the stupidest thing she could do. She would end up in a psych ward if she told the truth. She could end up in prison if she didn't speak at all.

  The captain entered the office, his face showed concern and confusion. He couldn’t imagine how one of his most sober officers ended up at the church in a gun battle. He closed the door behind him and looked at her. He ran his fingers through his thinning salt and pepper hair. “You’re in a real mess, Officer Collins. The reports of what happened are really wild.” He exhaled sharply. Walters moved to his desk and sat down. “Take a seat.” Maggie sat across from him. Captain Walters’ eyes betrayed the tumultuous thoughts occupying his mind. “The higher ups want your badge. Even if it gets straightened out without you going to prison your career in this state is effectively over.” He leaned forward. “What happened at the church, Maggie? You’re in some serious trouble. I’ll do what I can, but explanations are needed.”

  “Is this an interrogation?” Maggie asked.

  “No. We’re just talking. Off the record. Just tell me what’s going on.”

  “Okay. It’s not going to be easy to explain.” She would sound crazy if she divulged the truth. She sat for a moment and mulled her options before speaking again. “Okay. Here’s my report. I witnessed the assailant, possibly John Bryant, going into the church. I thought of calling for back up but there was no way to do it without leaving to find a phone. If the suspect had indeed killed someone at the church as reported I thought he might be returning to the scene of the crime. I followed him into the church. Once inside I found a man unconscious, slumped over the desk in the lobby. I went searching for the suspect. I found him outside near one to the side buildings. I was about to take him into custody when a man came out of a room firing at us. I shot him in the head in self-defense and shot another man in the room who was also shooting at us. It was at this time the LVPD arrived. We surrendered and were cuffed. Before we got to the cars, we heard gunfire from in the chapel. I didn’t know who was shooting but we waited until the situation was clear before proceeding to the parking lot. We were put in the cars and brought here.”

  “That's your report?” Captain Walters said skeptically.

  “Yes, sir. That’s the one I'm going to submit.”

  “Can you explain the gunmen with machine guns?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Can you explain what you were doing in that neighborhood? You say you saw the assailant entering the church.”

  “I was in the neighborhood by chance.”

  “Really?” Walters asked dubiously.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “With your weapon.”

  “All off duty officers have to carry a weapon. You know the rules.”

  “Right. Those are the rules.” Walters hesitated and suppressed a small smile. It was a ballsy explanation. “I don't know if your report is going to help you much.”

  "No, sir, you're wrong,” Maggie replied. “May I speak off the record?”

  Walters looked at her. She was a good cop. He always liked her. “You may.”

  “I think that report will keep me from being charged with manslaughter,” Maggie said candidly. “I acted in self-defense while trying to apprehend a fugitive.”

  He raised an eyebrow. He wouldn’t reveal what she said off the record. Something strange had happened at the church; there was a dubious murder and a shooting with automatic weapons in the span of a few days. He stood up and stepped out from behind the desk without saying anything. When he touched the doorknob, he turned back. “I’ll give them your report right now. I want to see their reaction with my own eyes. It’s a crazy story, but it just may save your ass, Officer Collins. Wait here.” He exited and she watched him through the windows as he disappeared. Her fate was now up to her bosses. Would they throw her under the bus or would they save her?

  She sat in the office. Her eyes roaming the room, her mind was elsewhere. Where was John? He was probably in interrogation. Was he talking? She hoped he knew to keep his mouth shut. He had a good reason to not tell the truth. ‘Reality’ was not what any detective would accept. Vampires. Any discussion involving vampires would go badly, which is why she avoided talking of hidden chambers or coffins. Or pounding stakes into bodies of the undead as their faces contorted in death throes. She didn’t mention dragging them outside to burn in the afternoon sun, or how the spontaneous combustions of the bodies surprised her. It was good the bodies burned. Having three corpses with stakes in their chests would be hard to explain to the LVPD. There was only ash in the grass when the police confronted Maggie and John. It would be noticed later by investigators, but after stumbling upon a gunfight, it was overlooked.

  Captain Walters returned after ten minutes and sat down behind his desk grim faced.

  “Well?” asked Maggie, impatient for the pronouncement. “What’s the verdict? Career or jail?”

  A smile appeared on his face. “There’s going to be hearings on the matter but I don’t think you will be charged with manslaughter. They’re leaning toward a justified shooting. Something extraordinary was going on at the church. You stumbled into the middle of it. In the end, you may get to keep your job.” He was about to continue talking when the power throughout the station went out. Darkness filled the interior of the building. After a few moments, emergency lights mounted near the ceiling sparked to life creating pools of white light in the rooms and hallways. The parabolic floodlights created stark shadows over the baffled occupants of the police station.

  “What the hell?” Captain Walters said.

  Maggie spun and looked out the office windows. Police were moving around, turning on flashlights. Was the power out in Las Vegas?

  “Oh no,” Maggie said quietly. Fear gripped her. She doubted the blackout was a coincidence.

  Chapter 17

  Darkness Falls

  “What’s going on?” The captain stood up and started for the door. Maggie grabbed his arm before he reached the door.

  “Don’t go out there, Captain.”

  “What are you talking about? Do you know what’s going on?” Walters asked.

  “Get down!” She forced them down below the windows as shrill cries shattered the darkness. Pale white blurred forms blew into the police station with elemental fury. Ethereal and deadly half seen forms met the police and staff. In the momentary meetings flashing hands were seen to caress. In their wake blood spurted, great gouts of crimson filled the air as the humans crumpled to the floor. Bodies were rent and tossed about as the storm clashed through the police station. They were everywhere and nowhere at once. Officers drew their weapons but hesitated to fire at the force they couldn’t see.

  An officer felt a whisper brush by him. His throat suddenly erupted, blood gushing forth, a pulsing jet with each beat of his heart. Others around him were holding their necks, crimson leaking from between fingers. There was no pain, but a cold bite cleaving throats. He dropped his weapon and gripped his neck unable to stop the blood pumping out. As he fell to the floor he raised his bloody dripping hands before his face. That shadowy image was his last sight before he died in surprise, pain, and fear.

  A number of masked men with machine guns followed the invisible maelstrom besieging the police station. With practiced precision they targeted anyone moving, some of dying as if their deaths were not ensured or swift enough, and the emergency lights. The bulbs exploded, sparks rained down on the dead and dying.

  “Get the fuck out o
f the station if you can,” Maggie said fiercely in Walter’s ear. They were on the floor near the door and not visible to the invaders through the windows. They would soon be discovered as the invasion continued.

  “What's happening?” he whispered out of fear.

  “You’d never believe me if I told you, Captain, but it’ll kill you nonetheless.” Maggie replied as bullets shattered the glass in the door. Shards of glass crashed down around them as they lay on the floor. “Give me your gun!” Maggie reached into his coat and found the shoulder holster under his arm. She unsnapped the restraint and tore the 9mm from the holster. “Get under your desk and don’t come out. Don’t let them see you!”

  “Who?”

  Maggie pushed him toward his desk and hunkered down against the wall near the office door. She inspected the gun. The Beretta had a fifteen round clip and one in the pipe. Sixteen rounds against humans with machine guns and vampires. Do bullets work on vampires? Thankfully the captain upgraded his weapon from his .357 revolver in the past year. “Glad you got rid of the six shooter, Captain.” She whispered. He ducked down behind the desk.

  A shadow loomed in the broken window of the door. Maggie tensed, waiting. The door knob turned and it opened with a kick, the barrel of an M-16 leading the way. When the man entered the room to clear it, Maggie fired upward targeting him. The bullet entered under the jaw and exited through the top of his cranium. There was a brief sound and the body fell forward. Maggie caught the body and pulled him into the room. She took his rifle, spare magazines, and the night vision goggles he was wearing. No wonder he could operate so well in the dark police station.

  Maggie put on the goggles. A headband encircled her head and the band over the top kept the front heavy apparatus from sliding down her face. A bracket held the mechanism so the goggles could flip up and down. She put the rubber cups over her eyes. The green phosphor display made the world into a somewhat distorted, cartoony black and green TV show with limited depth perception. She had to swing her head back and forth to compensate for the restrictive forty degree view. But she could see in the dark.

  Without a word to Walters she rose up and looked out the office windows. The goggles showed a green world. The emergency lights flared for a quarter second before the goggles compensated and darkened. She looked at the devastation. Bodies were everywhere. The human gunmen were moving through the building firing. The flashes illuminating the screen in the goggles were too brief and fast for them to darken.

  The vampires had already moved through, the humans were mopping up after them. Killing those still alive, shooting others who exited from offices. There was no good time to engage, so when she saw their attention had moved on, she ventured out into the station stealthily. Blood was everywhere, the floor was slick with it. Slipping on the gore was a danger. She needed to get to interrogation. She figured John was being grilled mercilessly. Her path was straightforward. The gunmen didn’t know where they were going if they had a destination at all. The vampires were looking to kill John. There was no other reason to do something so hugely foolish. The church was compromised, but a massacre...

  She stalked cautiously trying to miss the pools of blood and trying to keep the shards of glass and debris from crunching underfoot. The bloodshed she discovered as she moved through the station repulsed her. Even after killing three vampires just hours before, she found the horror around her was stunning. There was the smell of copper, gunpowder, and death. Bodies lay in crumpled heaps, some dead before they hit the floor. Many died hideously, their throats slashed, their life blood filling the air as hearts pumped the life sustaining liquid away. The scene was a battlefield, not a police station.

  As she advanced to her goal through the almost lifeless police station, Maggie came upon a woman cradling a man in her arms. Her head was bent over his throat and she drank deeply from the blood flowing out of his jugular vein. Maggie took a sharp breath. She didn’t expect them to be feeding during the attack. But with the abundance of blood around the creature couldn’t resist the intoxicating thrill of the killing.

  Upon hearing Maggie, the vampire looked up. This wasn’t one of their humans- the ‘Limited’ were all burly men. This was woman, probably a cop who somehow overcame on of their human retainers. The vampire dropped the body unceremoniously. It hit the ground heavily; the man made a small noise. She stepped forward crushing his throat and ending his life. Blood dripped from her face and she bared her fangs. Before the vampire could launch at her, Maggie fired twice hitting center mass of the body. The vampire took the bullets and stopped her forward motion. She laughed, the metallic sound sent a cold tendril fear down Maggie’s spine, chilling her to the bone. The vampire pointed to the holes in her body where the bullets perforated her and shrugged.

  If Maggie was going to die she was going to empty the clip into this bitch. She aimed at the vampire’s head and fired two rounds. The bullets penetrated the skull, one lancing through the left eye and the other removing the top of her head. Bone and brain exploded, particles falling on the man she had been feasting on. The vampire staggered. It seemed confused but something in it still drove it forward. Feet lifted aimlessly, trying to walk as it stumbled. Maggie fired again, the bullet tore into the neck, shattering the spine. The head dropped like a marionette with its top string cut. The severed nerves no longer sending messages to the body, the vampire plummeted to the floor.

  Maggie put another round into the brain of the twitching body as she passed. Apparently bullets did work. Not in the body, but the brain. Like zombies. She wondered in passing if zombies were real too. If the female vampire wasn’t dead, she was seriously screwed and no danger to Maggie.

  John sat silently, his hands clasped together, praying. He made it a point not to look like he was praying. To the two detectives behind the mirror, it seemed as though he was weary. Abruptly, the fluorescent light winked and then died in its fixture. The interrogation room was plunged into darkness. Odd. The implications of such a small occurrence didn’t sink in for a moment or two until he heard cries of terror and gunfire from outside the locked door. He was trapped in a cage and the vampires had come for him. All they had to do was find this room. If they were as effective as he envisioned, it would only be a matter of time until they found him; a short time at that.

  He couldn’t wait for them to find him. He had to escape. John got up and found the mirror in the dark room. He pounded on it and screamed, his face a mask of fear in the dark. “You have to let me out of here! We’re all in grave danger. They are coming to kill me!”

  The two men in the small room next to interrogation were frozen. They looked at one another as they heard the screams and gunfire. From the sounds of the volley they knew it was not police issued weapons they were hearing. It was too loud for a handgun and too fast. It was an automatic rifle of some kind. This was something unimaginable. They could hear the suspect in the room pound on the mirror. His voice was muffled.

  John found the metal chair and hefted it easily. Gripping it by the legs, he stepped into the motion and swung the chair at the mirror. The metal back cracked the mirror. He swung it again with all his strength. It crashed through the glass, shards spraying the surprised detectives. He rattled the chair around the inside of the frame to clear away the jagged, broken glass from the edges.

  The detectives drew their guns after the mirror exploded at them. Fragments of glass had cut their faces.

  “Don’t try to escape!” cried Blum, his gun was aimed into the pitch black room. Hearing his voice, John smashed the chair into the detective’s chest. Air whooshed out of his lungs and he fell backward. The other detective fired blindly, the muzzle flash illuminating the dark for a split second, the sound of the gun was thunderous in the tiny space. In that short span, John learned where the man was and hit him with the chair. He toppled backward, over the first detective. John felt for the window sill and scrambled into the next room. He took a guess at where the door was; it was on the same wall as the door to the in
terrogation room. He hugged the wall, found the corner, turned ninety degrees, he took a few steps and found the door knob.

  The detectives got up from the floor. “Shit!” they cursed as their hands were cut pushing up in the broken glass. This gave John their location. He turned the knob. It was unlocked. No reason to lock the observation side of interrogation. He opened the door. Wan, directionless light streamed in the room as he bolted out the door. One of the detectives fired a shot into the closing door, missing John by a wide margin.

  Outside the station was inadequately lit by a single emergency light. The others had been shot out. He quickly moved away from interrogation and crouched behind a desk. When the detectives exited the room he just left, they wouldn't see him. He didn’t see any movement. The attackers had moved on, presumably to the jail looking for him, leaving the bodies of the dead and dying where they had fallen. Most of the deceased had their throats slashed. The lucky ones who escaped that fate were lying in pools of their own blood, bullet holes draining the last of their strength.

  John moved as quietly as he could, though stealth was not something taught in seminary. He didn’t hear the door of the observation room open. If they were smart the detectives wouldn’t leave. Only death and horror awaited them. As he walked crouched over, to his ears each foot step was a resounding crash, a claxon to alert the attackers. The door opened and he heard the two detectives he attacked step out into the carnage. They stopped dead in their tracks, the single light revealed the horror in front of them.

  “Holy shit,” said Blum. He hadn’t seen destruction and loss of life like this since Vietnam.

  “Jesus,” the other detective whispered.

  Three men in night vision goggles carrying M-16s came cat-like around the corner. They saw the two detectives and the guns in their hands belched death. John, already crouched, flattened himself to the floor behind a desk. Any sound he made was overpowered by the barrage. The two cops fell lifeless to the floor. John waited in the deep shadows of a desk, waiting for the gunmen to pass. He barely breathed as he tried to become one with the darkness.