Shackles of Sunlight

by J. Daniel Layfield

  As soon as she was visible, more bullets began striking around her. She blindly returned fire before falling back to safety. The gunfire died quickly, replaced with Malock’s voice.

  “I said to stop shooting, idiots! She’ll have every one of you pinned down if you keep it up!” Maybe she had hit more than she thought. Liz peeked around the column and a bullet hit close enough to shower her face with stone chips from the ricochet.

  “Give me that!” Malock growled. It was followed by something hitting the ground and then another gunshot. Liz couldn’t help herself, she had to chance another look. Malock stood over a vampire sprawled on the ground, foot on his neck. Where the vampire’s ear should have been was now only a smoking, black hole. “Maybe you’ll be able to hear better out of the new one,” Malock chided. He dropped the gun to the ground beside the vampire and removed his foot from his neck.

  As he stepped away, Malock looked up and caught Liz watching him. Several of the others noticed her at the same time, instantly raising their guns at her. Malock roared, “I will kill the next one of you who fires a single bullet!” The guns remained silent, but held steady in place. “I will also kill whomever is standing next to the one who shoots, for allowing them to do it,” Malock added. They stole quick glances at one another, then all slowly put their guns away.

  Liz noticed three bodies stuck fast to the wall. Two were struggling to free themselves, despite being hit in several places. One of them had a line across his midsection and looked as though he might leave much of his torso behind. The third one was barely moving at all, which she assumed had something to do with the hole in the middle of his forehead.

  “That was some impressive shooting,” Malock said, indicating the pinned vampires. “I’m not sure if it was skill or luck, but I suspect it was a combination of the two. Either way though, it was impressive.”

  “And I’m just getting warmed up,” Liz replied, keeping the rifle barrel pointed at him.

  “We were warned about the unique firearms you’re using, and I must admit, having seen them in action, I’m most intrigued. Where ever did you get them?”

  “You know, I can’t really make out the manufacturer name. Why don’t you come have a closer look?”

  Malock smiled and even gave her a small chuckle. “It’s funny, I’ve always been kind of torn over technology. Modern conveniences have made being immortal just so comfortable, but sometimes I do long for the days of the Dark Ages, when anyone with a new idea was promptly executed.” The room was silent and still when Malock wasn’t speaking, as though no one quite knew what the next move should be. Malock continued on, as though oblivious to the unease.

  “There used to be a time when we vampires had nothing to fear from a stake wielding human. They simply lacked the strength to push a wooden stick through our bodies. Then someone had the bright idea to start using hammers to drive them in, which works quite well, if you can get the vampire to lie still for the procedure. Still, it’s not much to worry about, and not even fatal, in and of itself. Then skip ahead a bit and along come guns.” He put his hands up, “I know, I know, ‘what about arrows?’ you’re saying. Well, if you can’t dodge an arrow, then you’re doing something wrong. Bullets though, those are much harder. Lucky for us, men have been more interested in killing each other rather than us, so what use is a wooden bullet when metal ones are so much more destructive?” He paused for a moment as he looked back at his men still stuck to the wall. “Which brings us to here and now, where we find you in possession of wooden bullets, which, while not fatal, can leave one in awkward positions.”

  “Sounds like a fun game,” Liz called out. “Pin the vampire in an awkward position.”

  “Yes, well, I’m afraid we’re all done playing games here, Elizabeth. Now, put down the gun and come over here.”

  She could almost feel him in her head, trying to force his will on her. She gripped the gun tighter, enjoying the nervous look of the vampire she had in her sights as she answered, “Or what?”

  “Do you honestly need me to threaten you?” He moved out of her line of sight, forcing her to swap to the other side of the column. When she could see him again, Malock was holding a sword against Braughton’s chest. Once he was sure she was watching, Malock dragged the blade across Braughton, leaving a trail of blood in its path. Braughton remained silent, and the wound was already healing, leaving only small streams of blood drying on his chest as evidence. “Because I can assure you, I don’t make idle threats,” Malock punctuated with another slice.

  “You’re bluffing.” He had to be. She was sure of it. She just hoped she sounded sure. “You haven’t been chasing him this long just to kill him for me.”

  “Am I?” He held the blade to Braughton’s neck. “I’ll admit his death would certainly be an inconvenience, a setback even, but time is something I have in excess. No, I’m quite certain he means more to you than he does to me. What are you now without him?”

  She tried to laugh at the thought, but it wouldn’t come. He was right. She didn’t know enough about her new life to survive it on her own, and she had no desire to reclaim her old life. She needed Braughton. Would she have even come here had it been otherwise? Defeated, she dropped the gun behind the column and walked towards Malock, hands held up in surrender.

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  “Bring me the bone,” Malock commanded. Elizabeth stood against the wall, next to Braughton. Malock hadn’t bothered to disarm her, and Liz wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or insulted. One of his men pushed forward carrying a long, thin, ivory colored stick. If it was a bone, Liz had no idea to what kind of creature it belonged.

  “Either of you recognize this?” Malock asked, holding the stick out towards Liz and Braughton. Liz began to shake her head, then stopped. She had seen it before.

  “Brother Isaac’s cane,” she answered.

  “A cane,” Malock repeated, a broad smile on his face. “Why am I not surprised?” He spun the stick in his hands, his eyes tracing every detail of its pocked surface. “There is only one search I’ve been leading longer than the search for you Braughton, and that has been for this. I long suspected your precious cult was hiding it. Now, thanks to your borderline unhealthy obsession with the Brotherhood’s history, and Elizabeth destroying the tracker before she could be found, I have it.” He placed the tip on the ground, and grasped the larger end. “And we mustn’t forget dear Brother Isaac, who stabbed one of my men with his cane while defending himself, and turned him into a pile of ash. When I heard about that, I knew exactly what we had found.”

  “So, it’s not a cane,” Liz said. “Mind telling us what it is?”

  “It’s the rib of Helsig,” Braughton answered.

  “Precisely,” Malock’s smile somehow grew even larger. “Something you’ve come across in the books you’ve recovered, no doubt, but I’ll wager you had no clue it was being used to support an elderly monk.”

  “The final missing piece of Helsig’s remains,” Braughton said. “What does your master plan on doing with it?”

  “Master? He hasn’t cared about the rib in centuries. If he knew I had it, he’d probably tell me to do something ridiculous, like destroy it.” He idly rubbed the end of the bone, his eyes becoming distant, the silence in the room deafening. It only lasted a moment, and the smile returned as he turned his attention to Braughton.

  “Everyone has plans for you though, Braughton,” Malock continued. “The Council plans on using you to create some sort of enhanced human army, a weapon for them to wield in their war for power.” He rolled his eyes and shook his head at the idea. “While Master plans to use you in another one of his feeble attempts at grasping even a shred of the power he once held.” He cupped his hand to the side of his mouth and in an exaggerated whisper said, “And both of them plan to double-cross the other.”

  He picked up the rib, holding it in front of him. “The only one planning on using this though, is me.”

 
“And what are your plans for Braughton?” Liz asked.

  “I plan on leaving him right where he is while I take the bone, complete the form last taken by Helsig, and then finish the summoning ritual.”

  Liz noticed a bit of grumbling among the vampires behind Malock. She got the impression they weren’t aware of the new plan. She wasn’t the only one who heard them.

  “Is there a problem?” Malock turned to face the group.

  They looked nervously at one another until one finally stepped forward. “It’s just that we were told-,”

  “You were told,” Malock interrupted, “no, commanded, by each of your masters to follow my directions as you would their own. Were you not?”

  The speaker for the group lowered his eyes and nodded. “Yes. My apologies.”

  Malock stared hard at the group, none of whom dared meet his gaze. A gentle clink of Braughton’s chains turned Malock’s attention back to his captives.

  “Surely you can’t perform the ritual all on your own,” Liz said quickly. “Not when it took so many the last time, and even they failed.”

  Malock’s eyes narrowed as he examined Braughton a moment longer, then, satisfied by what he saw, turned to Liz. “There’s no need to perform the entire ritual. I just need to complete it.” Liz let her confusion show plainly on her face. “The summoning was interrupted, but not before something came through.” Her face remained unchanged. “You may think Braughton is half human and half vampire, but he’s really less than that because there’s a third part. Some piece of Helsig, a small one I’m sure, is trapped inside him.”

  She glanced at Braughton from the corner of her eye, but saw no reaction from him. Did he already know about this thing inside of him? How could he not? At the very least, he must have suspected as much, she reasoned. “And you think completing the ritual will release it?”

  “I know it will,” Malock answered.

  “Then what happens?”

  “Helsig will return fully to this plane of existence, reclaim the spark buried within Braughton,” he sneered as he added, “and take on a form more becoming of his power. Whole again and full strength, he will be eager to do the bidding of the one who summoned him. Which is the real reason there were so many present the last time it was performed. Everyone looking to control the creature, protecting their own meager power. This time though, there will be only one Master.”

  More grumbling came from behind Malock, and Liz decided to encourage it. “And everyone else is just supposed to what?” she asked. “Fall in line behind you? Bow down to the duo of Malock and Helsig?” The mumbling was growing louder and bolder as she spoke, but was suddenly silenced with a crack and a thud. She looked past Malock and saw the vampire who had spoken up earlier now lying on the floor, Samuel standing over him.

  “Don’t forget about Samuel,” Malock remarked, turning towards the now silent group. He opened his mouth, ready to dispense a threat when the clink of chains from behind him again drew his attention. He spun back around and took a few steps towards Braughton. Liz moved sideways, placing herself between them.

  “Please,” she scoffed. “You can barely keep a handful of foot soldiers under control. What difference will a creature no one even remembers make? A creature, I might add, they’ve already defeated once before.”

  Malock put his face within inches of Elizabeth’s, his eyes red and teeth bared. She was beginning to think she could have delivered that protest a little differently, but she remained still under Malock’s glare. “As much as you protest being a slave, I see the instinct to protect your master is still strong.” He leaned closer, sniffing deeply on either side of her neck. “It’s too bad you’ve been tainted by this freak. You might have made an interesting vampire.”

  She blinked and Malock was several paces away, his face returned to normal. “The beast’s weakness was its master, a human,” he explained. “Which will not be a problem this time.” He looked again at Braughton as he added, “Besides, Braughton has already built somewhat of a reputation for himself. I’m certain there will be some who will be eager to bow before me rather than face the wrath of what he will become.” He gave Elizabeth a smile. “It may take some time to convince them all, but they will submit, or they will die.”

  Malock turned to Samuel and what now appeared to be a group of fresh devotees. “Do what you like with the girl, but don’t kill her until after the summoning is complete. If the human bond is severed, the beast becomes … unpredictable.” Samuel nodded, then his eyes went to Braughton and came back to Malock.

  “Leave him restrained,” Malock commanded. “And I don’t want him touched until after the ritual. Once I’ve released the creature from him, whatever is left belongs to you.”

  Samuel expressed his displeasure at this arrangement with a few low grunts.

  “Now, now, no need for such language. I don’t need to be reminded of the promise I’ve made you. Do you need a reminder of your place?”

  Samuel lowered his eyes and shook his head.

  “Are you sure? It’s been ages since I’ve administered a reminder to you.”

  Samuel bowed his head low, shaking it adamantly now, silently begging his master’s forgiveness.

  “Very well,” Malock said with a sigh, “but don’t forget – not a finger on him until after the ritual.”

  Samuel nodded his head and gave Braughton a hard stare.

  “No need in torturing yourself,” Malock remarked, noticing the glare. “Completing the ritual won’t take long. Why not go upstairs, decide what tool you’d like to start with, and by the time you’ve returned it should be nearly over.”

  Samuel glanced at Elizabeth, the vampires still stuck to the wall, then back at Malock.

  “No need to worry. I’m sure the boys here can handle her.” He leaned to the side, his eyes on the group behind Samuel. “Isn’t that right?” He received several nods and a few vocal yeses in reply, and it appeared as though many of them had already begun to imagine how exactly they would handle her. Malock smiled as he turned back to Samuel. “There, all taken care of. Now, off you go.”

  The grin hidden under his mask was large enough to touch his eyes, Liz noticed as he looked at her then turned to leave the room. Malock had his own smile for her as well when he faced them again and headed towards the opposite side of the room.

  “The best advice I can give you is don’t struggle,” he offered. “You’ll only excite them, and make things worse. The remainder of the life you have left will not be pleasant, but follow that advice and it won’t last long.”

  “Well, with you gone, things can only get better,” Liz shot back, but Malock was already out of view.

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Despite having her back against a wall and being surrounded by vampires who had been told to ‘do what they like with her’, Liz allowed herself a small mental sigh of relief at Malock’s exit. Her distractions had kept him from noticing Braughton working to release his restraints, but just barely. She could only guess at how much progress Braughton had made, but she hoped it was enough.

  The vampires slowly closed in on her, and she could see the hunger in their eyes. Gone were their concerns over Malock’s plans, now only able to see their prey shrink before them, hear her heart pounding, smell the blood in her veins, and imagine the taste of it as it poured from her. She needed to act fast.

  The assault rifle was several meters away, tucked behind a column. The pistols in her shoulder holsters were nearly empty, but the ones on her thighs were untouched. Still not very good odds while she was out in the open. She needed to get back to the rifle, and she really wished she had more ammo. As if answering her request, she noticed one of the vampires holding a bag. Her bag, in fact. And it was no surprise when she looked up and saw it was Jonas holding it.

  “Jonas, you brought my bag back,” she cooed with fake kindness and a bright smile. “That was so sweet of you, and I didn’t get you anything.”

/>   “Don’t worry,” he replied with a wolfish grin. “Before this is over, you’ll have given me plenty.” Several of the others let out growling laughs of approval, but Liz’s smile didn’t falter.

  “I’m so silly,” she said. “I completely forgot. I do have something special I’ve been saving just for you.” Shooting from the hip was not something she’d ever been comfortable with, but she was good at it. Plus, it never failed to impress. She only hoped the results would be the same with an untested firearm on her thigh and still fairly new enhanced reflexes.

  The shot was quick, the aim dead-on, and the entire thing over before anyone knew it had even happened. The bullet struck Jonas’s hand, causing him to drop the bag. Everyone turned to watch the almost comical scene of Jonas being dragged backwards by the hand until it stuck fast to the nearest column. Everyone except Liz. She followed the first shot with several more as she headed for the assault rifle, and then pushed further back into the room.

  Shouting and a few rounds of return fire echoed behind her, but by the time she had settled behind cover, the room had grown quiet. She wondered briefly if Braughton might have been able to free himself during the confusion, and even considered reaching out to him mentally. Approaching footsteps interrupted those thoughts, reminding her she had her own problems at the moment.

  The footsteps paused a few meters away, then moved slowly to her left side. At the same time, she could hear more steps coming from the right. They were closing in on her. How many was she dealing with now? The three pinned to the wall were still there, Jonas would likely free his hand quickly, and she was unsure if she had hit any more in her dash for the rifle. Samuel had left, but she was sure the gunfire had probably already drawn him back. By her count, that meant at least five, maybe more. She blew stray hair from her face with a frustrated breath as she listened for more steps, and tried not to estimate how few bullets she had left.