Dave Carver (Book 1): Thicker Than Blood

by Dudek, Andrew

  Jen tried to cheer me up. She rubbed my shoulder. It reminded me of something my mother used to do before she was killed by a vampire. Jen told me it wasn’t so bad, that there was still a chance, that there was always hope. All those lies that people tell each other when there’s nothing else left to say. I kept my mouth shut. It was that bad. There wasn’t hope. Eventually she got tired of lying to me and, I guess, to herself, and went to sit in the corner near the rusted frame of a Honda Civic. Soft sobs drifted from behind the car. I let her cry. Maybe it made me a jerk, but I didn’t have it in me to comfort a civilian right now.

  Besides, no hope was better than false hope.

  All of my thoughts ran along one track: I’d failed. I’d broken my leg coming out of the starting gate, and there was no recovery. And the worst part? It wasn’t just me paying the price. The human race was doomed, and it was my fault.

  The door swung open. I jumped to my feet, not wanting to face the bad news sitting on a stupid camp-bed. Accountant-Vamp ran into the garage. His glasses were gone and his hair was a mess. Color was just worming its way back into his cheeks and his eyes were black at the edges. There were a few other vampires with him, most looking similarly disheveled or worse, but nowhere near as many as had left the garage hours earlier. They looked—and I didn’t think it was my imagination—scared. Roberto and Loretta were nowhere to be seen.

  Accountant-Vamp’s eyes landed on me, and he rushed across the garage. He grabbed me by the collar. “How’d you do it?” he said, shaking me. “How’d you warn them?”

  “What are you talking about?” I yelled back. “I’ve been here the whole time.”

  He shook me like an unsatisfied Magic 8-Ball customer. “You’re lying! You warned them! How?”

  “He ain’t lyin’,” a gruff, Southern-accented voice said from the doorway. “He never told us nothin’.”

  The vampire dropped me and spun around.

  Three people stood in the doorway.

  Earl James stood on the left, his curved sword bloody in his hand. May was on the right, her sword low, but her wand was out, darting around the room in search of a target.

  But the most amazing thing was the man in the middle.

  William Foster Pendragon, leader of the Knights of the Round Table, pointed his square-tipped, katana-bladed sword at the chubby vampire. “Y’all came to our house and attacked us. Now it’s your turn.”

  Chapter 20

  Bill Foster stood in the doorway, flanked by Earl and May. Headlights from some car behind them made them silhouettes. Black blood dripped from their swords. They were like statues, but just for a moment.

  And then Bill moved.

  Watching my mentor fight always made me think of what it must have been like to see Picasso paint. The moves didn’t always seem to make sense from a traditional standpoint, they seemed random and anarchic, but hidden in that chaos was something amazing. Each footfall, each sword-stroke, each seemingly haphazard twitch of a muscle was deliberately chosen and carefully executed.

  Bill charged into the garage, faster than a man his age should have been able to move.

  Say this for the vampires: they had reaction times like living, wary cats. By the time Bill had gotten past the parked cars and into the garage proper, Earl and May right behind him, the vamps had rushed forward to meet the attack.

  Earl went to the left, hoisting a big pistol in his left hand. He squeezed off a quick burst—bang, bang, bang—and three shots rang in my ears. Bullets tore through the shoulder of the nearest vampire. He spun around, howling in pain, as black blood gushed from under his arm. He recovered quickly, though, and rushed forward to pounce on the knight who’d shot him. Earl, who had been charging towards the teeming mass of vampiric bodies, suddenly froze in place, allowing the vampire to barrel past him harmlessly. He slashed diagonally with his sword. There was a flash of golden light as the sword tore through the vampire’s shoulder and neck. The vamp ran another two, three steps, before he fell to the ground. His head rolled another foot or two.

  May went right, an arm-width torrent of apple-red fire erupting from the tip of her wand. It roared and crackled as it completely engulfed the head of one vampire and scorched the chest of another. She whipped the wand up and sparks flew. They landed on a female vampire’s face. Howling and slapping at the stinging embers, the vampire spun around like a lunatic. It only lasted a second. Then her head went up. There was a whooshing sound, and the vampire’s head was on fire. It only burned for a moment, and then the flame extinguished itself. When it was gone, all that remained of the vampire’s head were a few split ends and a smoldering stump of spine. The body dropped like a de-stringed marionette.

  It was Bill who got the lion’s share of attention. By some unspoken agreement, the vampires recognized the leader of the Table and focused their attacks on him.

  The first overeager vampire to venture within reach of Bill’s sword lost his head. After that they got more cautious, hunkering together like a school of fish avoiding a shark. Suddenly, they all attacked at once, falling on Bill like football players chasing a fumble. Bill ducked under an outstretched arm, drove a fist into another set of ribs, and seemed to wink into existence outside of the dog-pile. The vampires reacted with supernatural speed, spinning like tops, but still. It almost seemed unfair.

  The sword flashed, and a hand that was reaching for Bill’s throat fell uselessly to the ground. The now-one-handed vampire, danced away from the Pendragon, looking for a seemingly easier target: Earl. The lieutenant’s gun fired again, blowing the vamp’s skull into so much shrapnel. Bill’s sword flashed again, drawing a line of black blood across the torso of another vampire. This one rolled to the side, only to be speared through the ribs by May’s sword.

  Five down, four to go, including Accountant-Vamp.

  One, who looked like she’d been a fifteen-year-old girl when she’d been turned into a vampire, leaped onto Bill’s back. He grabbed her by the throat, muscled her over his head, and flipped her to the ground. He brought the sword down with a grunt. There was a flash of red light as the blade pierced her heart. She screamed as she died.

  Another vampire, this one looking like a middle-aged woman, pounced, her hands spread wide like the claws of a tiger. Bill simply ducked, and she sailed clear over his head. May and Earl each swung their swords, and the vampire hit the ground in three separate, bloody pieces.

  The third survivor, who’d been some kind of body builder in his previous life, stalked directly towards Bill. It wasn’t often that my old mentor met someone with a human body who was bigger than he was, but this guy had a good three inches and twenty pounds on him. He was fast, too, rolling back to avoid Bill’s first cautious strike. He hit the ground in a reverse somersault, and kicked at Bill’s ankles. Bill hopped to avoid the blow, but the big vampire shot up, faster than a cobra. His hand closed around Bill’s throat and hefted him off the ground.

  Bill struggled against the vampire’s grip as fanged jaws lowered towards his throat. Suddenly, he slammed his forehead into the vamp’s mouth in a head-butt, then brought his fist up. The vampire was stunned, just for a moment, into dropping Bill. The knight pounded away at the vampire for a few moments. Bits of fangs broke off and tore up his knuckles, but my mentor didn’t notice. Finally, dazed and confused, the vampire slipped backwards. Bill cut through that bullish neck in one slash.

  Accountant-Vamp looked around nervously. He seemed to realize that he was the last vampire standing. He licked his lips and raised his hands above his head. Bill swooped down on the vampire, wrapping his big hand in the collar of the plaid shirt. He put the tip of the black blade against his throat.

  “Where are the rest’a you animals?” Bill whispered.

  “I don’t know.” the nerdy vampire was remarkably calm, considering the circumstances. I had a flash of a thought: maybe he knew something more about what was going on than the rest of us in the room.

  “At least two got away,” Bill roared, spittle spray
ing into the vampire’s face. “A male and a female. What happened to ‘em?”

  “I really don’t know. We got separated after the attack.”

  Bill eyed the vampire for a long moment. With a disgusted grunt, he threw him to the ground. Silently, May stood over the vampire and put the tip of her sword against his throat.

  “You okay, Dave?” Bill asked. My mentor was wearing his usual clothes: a red-and-black plaid flannel shirt, dark jeans, creaky leather gloves, and Timberland work boots. His beard was a little longer and a lot grayer than it had been the last time I’d seen him, and there were more lines in the dark skin of his face, but the most startling thing was the expression in his brown, penetrating eyes. They looked weary, tired. It made him look...old.

  “Fine, sir,” I said. “How are you?”

  He shook his head and looked at the blood on the knuckle of his right glove. “Think the damn fang tore up my hand, but it ain’t too bad.”

  “What are you doing here, Bill?”

  He frowned and shook his head. “You asked for my help, didn’t ya, boy?”

  “I didn’t think you’d come yourself. I figured you’d be...busy.”

  “That’s ‘cause you ain’t got as much sense as God gave a retard hog. Seems to me this is where the war is right now. ‘Course I ain’t gonna leave you to deal with a whole damn invasion on your own.”

  I laughed and threw my arms around my mentor’s shoulders. “Thank you.” I looked past him at May and Earl. “Thank you all.”

  Bill slapped my back, just hard enough to sting. “Don’t go gettin’ all mushy on us, kid. We’re gonna need you tough.”

  “Yes, sir.” I laughed again, this time from the exhilaration of being alive, from the sheer joy of seeing Bill again. “What happened?”

  He kicked the nearest vampire skull. It rolled a few feet and bounced noisily against the metal leg of one of the cots. “‘Bout thirty of these monsters showed up at the office, lookin’ for a spot of trouble. We fought ‘em off, obviously, and El-Tee James had the brilliant idea to follow ‘em, maybe get right to you. Anyhow, the only reason we’re alive right now is ‘cause’a May. She cast some kind of warnin’ spell on the neighborhood around the office. Tol’ us as soon as a vamp crossed the perimeter ten blocks away.” He looked over his shoulder, but May didn’t acknowledge the compliment. She was still intently guarding Accountant-Vamp. “Otherwise...hell, it could’a been bad.”

  Jen chose that moment to crawl out from under the cot, staring slack-jawed at the vampire skull that Bill had just kicked. May shouted a warning and Earl raised his gun.

  “Wait!” Bill and I shouted at the exact same moment. I looked at him. He grinned and shrugged.

  “She ain’t a vamp, is she?”

  “No, she was a prisoner in here with me,” I said. “You okay, Jen?”

  “Yeah.” She looked around at the blood dripping from swords, at Earl’s big old handgun, at the smoke that was still spiraling from May’s wand. “Who are you people?”

  Bill was staring at her, his expression oddly intense, but when he spoke his voice was a dull monotone. “You alright, miss?”

  “I think so. Why?”

  He hesitated before answering. “Just ‘cause it’s scary as hell gettin’ taken by vamps. I should know.”

  She frowned. “O-o-okay. What happens to me now?”

  “You’re a survivor of a supernatural attack,” I said. “That means you’re entitled to advanced Round Table protection. If you want, you can come with us and we’ll keep you safe.”

  “Whattya say, Jen?” Bill said. “Come with us.”

  Jen closed her eyes for a moment. “If you guys fail, this is the end of the world, right? It’s not like I can help much. So, if this is it, I want to spend as much time as I can with my friends and my boyfriend. With my mom.”

  I nodded. It made perfect sense to me, and it was what I was hoping she’d say. I had enough on my plate without having to escort a curious civilian. What I couldn’t understand was the pained expression that crept across Bill’s face when Jen turned us down.

  “If that’s what you want,” Bill said quietly. “The El-Tee will take you home, right Lieutenant?”

  “Yes, sir,” Earl said. He put a hand on Jen’s arm and began to lead her towards his Toyota, which was still parked in the garage.

  “What about this animal?” May said. Accountant-Vamp whimpered.

  “Kill him,” I said.

  Bill shook his head. “He might know stuff that could be useful. Better take ‘im alive.”

  “There’s a prison cell in the basement of the office,” Earl said. “Supposed to have magic powers or something. Should be strong enough to hold him.”

  That was unusual. I’d never heard of any Round Table stations being so equipped. I frowned and looked at Bill. “You know about that?”

  “First I’m hearin’ o’ it.”

  “Okay,” I said, clapping my hands together and shaking my head. “I guess we shouldn’t look a gift prison cell in the bars. Let’s get this undead son of a bitch in the magic jail.”

  Bill grinned and clapped me on the shoulder. “Break’s over, Dave,” he said. “Time to get back to work.”

  Before we left, we moved the dead vampires into the middle of the room. May produced a piece of sidewalk chalk from her pocket and around the pile of rotting, skeletal remains, she drew a circle. She tapped her wand against the circle and said, “Infernus.” A red and orange fire sprang up inside the circle, flames straining against the invisible borders and consuming the bodies. Soon enough the fire would consume all of the oxygen in the room and extinguish itself, but it would take all trace of vampire corpses with it.

  Earl helped Jen into the Toyota and drove off. Bill drove Rob Haney’s Mustang, which they had used to track me down. (I had a good chuckle at the image of the Bill and Earl—two big men—squeezing into the front seat of the old muscle car with May, who wasn’t exactly slender-shouldered herself.) May and I shoved Accountant-Vamp, who was bound at the wrists and ankles with plastic zip-ties that we’d found in the office outside of the garage, into the back of the van that the vampires had been using for their transportation. The prisoner whined loudly when we slammed the door closed. We ignored him. May got into the driver’s seat, and we were off.

  I drummed my fingers against the dash, bounced my knees up and down, and made a general nuisance of myself. The day-plus that I’d spent in the garage had awoken a claustrophobia in me, and being strapped into the van’s passenger seat wasn’t doing much to alleviate it, but at least I was moving, and that made all the difference.

  May knew me well enough that she understood how I’d get after being cooped up for so long, so she smiled tolerantly and waited for me to calm down. “Better?” she asked.

  “Much,” I said. “Thanks, May.”

  “Welcome.”

  “I didn’t mean just for tonight. For everything. For Guyana.”

  She gave me one of those sad smiles. “I knew what you meant, Dave.”

  “How bad was it,” I said, “the attack?”

  “It...it wasn’t the worst battle of the war, but it wasn’t pretty.”

  I swallowed. “Casualties?”

  “Knight Haney got bit,” she said, tracing a line over her ribs. “Right here.”

  I winced. That explained why Rob hadn’t driven his own car in pursuit of the retreating vampires. Vampire fangs weren’t long enough to reach any vital internal organs, but a wound like that could cause a lot of blood loss.

  “Anyway, he’s with Madison at the hospital.”

  “Wait, why’s Madison at the hospital?”

  “She got hit by a flying desk,” May said. “Right in the head. I don’t know how bad it is, so don’t ask. But that’s why Rob’s with her. He said he didn’t want to leave her alone.”

  “Good man.”

  “Yeah, he is.”

  “What about Krissy?”

  “Not a scratch,” May told me. Her lips wer
e pursed. “She’s with Rob at the hospital.”

  I breathed a sigh of relief. “Good.”

  “Guess so.” She shook her head. “I know you trust her, Dave, but I’m not so sure. For all we know, she may not have ever been enthralled—she could just be a well disguised groupie.”

  “Maybe,” I said. “But I think there’s a better person to suspect: me.”

  She glanced at me from the corner of her eye. “That’s ridiculous.”

  “Is it?” I started counting off on my fingers. “I don’t remember everything that happened in Guyana. The vampires knew where the safe house was. They’ve claimed they wanted me alive several times now. Couldn’t I have been enthralled.”

  May frowned, but she didn’t say anything. Suddenly tires squealed as she jerked the van over to the side of the road. Someone driving behind her honked his horn, but she didn’t seem to notice. She turned off the engine. I looked around nervously. I didn’t recognize the neighborhood, but it looked to be somewhere on the south side, near the FDR. It was late at night and dark, and the only other people in sight were a couple of gang-banger looking types.

  “Get out,” May said, and she led by example.

  The two guys looked up with interest at the pretty, athletically built redhead stood on the sidewalk. She gave them a look that would have blistered a hippo. When she drew her sword, they decided they had someplace better to be.

  I got out of the van. “What are you doing, May?”

  “Give me your hand.”

  “Not till you tell me what you’re doing.”

  “You’re scared you’ve been enthralled, right? So if you are, then the vamp’s still in there. And what’s the best way to determine if you’re under the influence of a supe force? A sword. So give me the damn hand.”

  I did, my palm faced up.

  May looked at me apologetically. “This’ll hurt.”

  Then she drew the blade across the palm of my hand. I sucked in a breath as a wave of white-hot pain jolted across my hand. The skin screamed. Warm blood pooled on my hand...