The footsteps from left and right had both stopped. No matter how hard she strained, she couldn’t hear anything now from either side. What were they waiting for? Most likely, reinforcements, she thought with some worry. The better question, she decided, was what was she waiting for? Before she could decide whether to charge left or right though, she was stopped by voices.
They weren’t close enough to make out, but she could hear the urgency in their tone. Apparently her stalkers heard it too, because the next thing she heard were their footsteps retreating towards the voices. Footsteps and frantic voices trampled over one another, moving back and forth, as though they were searching for something. It certainly wasn’t for her.
Liz slid cautiously to the edge of the square concrete column and slowly peered around, hoping to catch a glimpse of what was happening. She very nearly screamed when she felt something behind her.
“If you scream, you’re going to give us away,” Braughton’s voice warned, and she couldn’t hide the relief she felt when she heard it.
“What took you so long?” she asked with a small smile.
“You mean besides having one hand still locked tight when Malock showed up?”
“Well, yes, obvious-,” was all she was able to retort before he silenced her by putting a finger to his lips. The voices and footsteps had stopped, and the room was silent again. How long had it been so quiet?
Braughton’s head lowered, his eyes on the ground, his body perfectly still. Liz only hoped she looked as solid. Inside, her heart was racing, her muscles screaming for action, and her nerves a twisted bundle of electric energy. A small scrape of shoe against stone told her they were coming back for her. She saw Braughton twitch slightly at the sound, and then again when she heard another step from the other side. She was fighting the strong urge to shake him when he looked up at her.
“How many do you think you could handle by yourself?” His face was serious, but the question was completely unexpected. Her mouth silently opened and closed a few times before the words would finally form. When they did, it came out mostly as half-formed thoughts expressing how it depended on how many attacked at once, where they were in the room, or if she could get her ammunition bag. He interrupted her before she could explain any further. “Wait right here for just a second.” He disappeared before she could even nod her reply.
The unmistakable sound of sword cutting through air reached her from the left side, very near where she had last heard a footstep. It was followed by the sound of something crashing to the ground. A few moments later the same series of noises came from the right side. Then nothing.
She listened for anything, the sword, a step, a voice, anything, but there was only silence.
“Over here!” She heard from far across the room. “I’ve found him!” The clash of metal on metal followed, as well as a few stray gunshots, then nothing. Other voices began to call out from all around her, and each one was silenced. She had no idea how long it all lasted – seconds, minutes, more? Just as she was beginning to wonder if she would see him again, Braughton reappeared in front of her. She just managed to turn the almost scream into a small, surprised gasp.
“Since you couldn’t make a decision,” he said with a smile, “I made it for you.”
“Thank you?” she said, confused.
“There are three of Malock’s men left, but one of them is still stuck to the wall. Your friend, Jonas, left in a hurry after he pried his hand off the column, leaving your bag where it dropped.”
She nodded. Three vampires, surely she could handle three of them. Two really, since one of them was still staked. She was feeling a little relieved, until she looked at Braughton’s face. There was something else, something he was hesitant to tell her.
“One more thing, Elizabeth.”
Great. Here it comes.
“Samuel. He’s still out there somewhere. I haven’t seen him, but he’s there, and I don’t have time to deal with him.” He stepped closer to her. “You’re going to have to kill him, Elizabeth. If you don’t, he will kill you, and then he’ll come for me.”
So, three vampires, and Samuel? She felt the blood drain from her face. She must have looked as though she were going to faint, because Braughton took another step and placed his hand on her arm.
“You can do this, Elizabeth,” he assured her. “Not only are you unlike any of the others before you, but your skills have also already surpassed them all.” She nodded weakly, not raising her eyes from the ground. He gave her arm a squeeze, and she met his eyes. There was a quiet confidence in them from which she couldn’t help but draw strength. “Remember, you are more than just your skill with sword and firearm.”
She nodded again, firmly this time. She looked up to show him she was sure of herself, but he wasn’t looking at her. His eyes were looking past her, back towards the direction Malock had exited the room. How could she have been so stupid? He didn’t have time for any of this.
“What happens to you if he completes the ceremony?” she asked, unsure she really wanted to know the answer.
His gaze shifted back to her, his smile she thought out of place. “I’m not worried about that part,” he assured her. He pulled a thin, silver chain from under his shirt. Attached to the end was what looked like a large, stark-white, eagle talon. “It’s kind of hard to have a complete skeleton when it’s missing a finger.”
He tucked the bone back into his shirt, and opened his mouth, then quickly closed it. Liz raised an eyebrow, but he simply held up a single finger. Wait. His hand closed on the hilt of his sword, his fingers flexing, until satisfied with the grip. His head tilted to one side, and he shifted his weight to the balls of his feet.
Liz didn’t hear anything until the vampire stepped around the column behind Braughton. No matter what she did, it was going to be too late. The pistol in her hand felt like she was dragging it through syrup as she leaned back and struggled to raise it fast enough to stop the vampire.
From the corner of her eye she saw Braughton’s hand move, then a strong wind pushed against her face, forcing her eyes closed for a moment. When they opened again her pistol was still travelling its agonizingly slow arc up towards the vampire, and Braughton was still in front of her with hand on hilt, but the vampire behind him was different. It was the fraction of a second later when her gun finally cleared Braughton’s body that she realized her target was now missing a head.
Liz held her sights on the body until it collapsed to the ground, then slowly lowered it. Braughton relaxed his grip on his sword and looked back at Liz. “So, now you only have two of his men to deal with, and Samuel.” He stood, ready to leave, but Liz stopped him.
“I don’t understand what the rush is now. With an incomplete skeleton, nothing will happen when Malock tries to complete the summoning. Right?” She didn’t want to sound scared, but she still wasn’t comfortable with the thought of facing Samuel alone. “I mean, why split our forces if we don’t have to?” she offered with a shrug.
“You’re right, nothing should happen to me or the remains of the creature when Malock completes the ritual. The problem,” he explained, “is once Malock realizes nothing is happening, he’s going to come looking for us.”
“All the more reason to stick together.”
Braughton shook his head. “No, if he comes for us, then we’ve lost our biggest advantage. Surprise.” She opened her mouth to protest, but he stopped her. “Elizabeth, he is the oldest vampire I’ve ever faced, and I have no idea the extent of his abilities. Frankly, I’m not even sure I can kill him without sunlight. But if I can surprise him, catch him off-guard, then I might have a chance.”
Liz nodded slowly. “Go,” she said without looking him in the eyes. “I’ll take care of Samuel.” She was sure the confidence she had seen in him earlier was no longer there, and that was something she couldn’t bear to see right now. He gave her a gentle squeeze on the shoulder as he passed by and headed in the direction Malock h
ad disappeared.
There was another reason he couldn’t kill Samuel. A reason he couldn’t even admit to himself. It was true, he had long ago dealt with the guilt of a young man who thought himself responsible for the death of his best friend. What he had to face now was accepting his role in creating the monster his friend had become. A monster that now had to be destroyed. She felt it all in that squeeze. He wasn’t saying ‘good luck’, he was saying ‘thank you’.
A footstep across the room drew her attention back. Still two vampires and Samuel lurking out there somewhere. She still held the pistol in her hand, its weight reminding her she needed to reload. Her bag was in the opposite direction of the approaching sounds, so what better opportunity to retrieve it?
She moved quickly and quietly back towards the bag of ammunition. As she drew close, she heard sounds of a struggle. Worried Braughton might be in trouble, she rushed forward, gun and sword ready. When she stepped around the last column, she found the struggle only involved one body. It was the vampire she’d pinned to the wall, still trying to free himself. He’d made decent progress, but was leaving behind chunks of flesh stuck to the wall. She still had some time before he was going to be any sort of threat.
Liz spotted the black bag on the ground, right where Jonas had dropped it. The staked vampire was too busy to have noticed her, so Liz slipped silently towards the discarded duffel. She took one more look around before diving into the bag for a reload. The assault rifle got a fresh clip first, followed by the pistols in her shoulder holsters. The guns on her thighs were last, and she smiled at the satisfying click of the last clip sliding into place. The smile faded, however, when she realized the room had grown silent around her.
At the very least, she knew she should still be able to hear the struggling sounds of the still staked vampire. There was no way he could have freed himself, which meant … The hairs on the back of her neck stiffened and tiny bumps ran up both of her arms as she realized someone was behind her.
She still held a pistol in each hand. Part of her wondered what she wouldn’t give to have been holding her sword, and another part was shocked by that thought. Braughton would have been proud, and if she ever saw him again, she would be sure to tell him. First, she had to survive this. She moved her hands as though she were going to holster the pistols, but instead, spun around and extended them out in front of her.
The first thing to come into focus was the gun barrel pointed at her face. It wasn’t the first time she’d seen this view, and at this moment she hoped it wouldn’t be the last time. It wavered slightly, but the barrel remained dark and quiet. It took some convincing, but slowly her eyes moved to the face behind the barrel. It was one of Malock’s men, but not Samuel. She supposed she should have been relieved, but it just meant Samuel was still out there somewhere. Meanwhile, she was stuck in a standoff with Not Samuel. Funny thing though, he wasn’t looking at her.
The vampire’s eyes shifted back and forth between the two barrels he had suddenly found thrust in his face. “Hey, buddy,” Liz said. “My eyes are up here.” She waved one of the guns up for emphasis. He blinked several times, and adjusted the grip on his gun before she saw his eyes settle on hers. A small, cocky smile appeared on his lips, but Liz had already seen the beads of nervous sweat on his upper lip and streaking down the side of his face. She pulled back the hammer on both pistols and gave him her own smile when he flinched.
“We both know those bullets won’t kill me,” he taunted with a sneer. “But what do you think mine will do to you?”
She knew she could heal much more quickly now, but she had no idea how much damage her body could sustain. A regular bullet to the head was almost certainly more than she could survive, but there were plenty of other places that would fall under the command ‘do what you will, just don’t kill her’. Still, no reason to show her concern.
“Now we both know you can’t kill me. At least, not until Malock is finished. And while mine may not kill you,” she added, “you’ll end up like your friend on the wall before you can blink. From there, your death is just a blade-width away.”
His smile wavered as he nervously licked his lips. He tilted his head to the side, but kept his eyes on Liz as he yelled, “Would you hurry up and pull yourself off that wall already!” The sickening sounds of tearing flesh quickly filled the air again, as he redoubled his efforts to free himself. She could see his almost violent movements from the corner of her eye, and if she didn’t do something soon she would be dealing with two of them … or maybe closer to one and a half.
The smirk returned to Not Samuel’s face. Your move, his eyes said. Oh really, her cocked eyebrow replied back. Without breaking eye contact, Liz swung one of her guns to the side and fired three shots at the squirming shape on the wall.
“Aarghhh! You bitch!” rang back from the wall as the echo of gunfire died. She still didn’t chance looking, but she could see his movement was much more restricted now.
“Got a plan B?” she asked as she pointed the gun back in his face. His smile faded completely. A desperate man and a desperate situation. Never a good combination. The wheels of rationalization turned behind his eyes, and she could almost see him make the decision. Apparently, Plan B was to kill her.
She had seen more than a few criminals come to the same conclusion, so when he got to physically pulling the trigger, she was ready. She slammed her arms into his gun, forcing it up and out of his hand. It discharged into the ceiling before he lost it, sending a shower of dust and grit raining down into Liz’s face.
She coughed and stumbled a few steps backwards as she tried to clear her vision. Her ears were working just fine though, and she clearly heard him closing in on her. She shuffled back a few more steps, regaining her sight just in time to see a blade swinging towards her. She raised both guns, blocking the strike just before it found its mark.
The vampire roared over the echo of the metallic clang, furious to be denied the kill. He pulled back the sword, then let loose with a fury of swings. Liz was pushed backwards under the onslaught, blocking each attack with her guns, all while fighting the growing, and completely rational, fear of backing right into the waiting arms of Samuel.
Wait, she thought after stopping yet another swing in the endless assault. I’m totally using these the wrong way. She pointed the pistol not occupied with blocking his sword at the vampire’s head and pulled the trigger.
He saw her raise the gun and was able to dodge the shot, which is exactly what she expected. She fired two more shots, which he managed to avoid, but also stopped his attack and pushed him back.
“My turn,” she said, holstering the pistols and drawing her sword in what looked like one single motion. “You boys and your big swords,” she said as she charged towards Not Samuel. He struggled to block the blurred fury of her attacks, and once he took one step back, Liz knew it was almost over.
His eyes were wide, his breathing rapid, and the sweat was pouring down his face again. She pushed forward against him, driving him back. Thoughts of training with Braughton surfaced in her mind, and with them came memories of the monastery. Memories of the monks, of Monk, of her new friends in this strange reality. Friends taken from her by vampires, most likely the one in front of her right now.
The smile on her face turned grim and her sword moved faster than the vampire was able to counter. A small cut on his arm, a gash in his side, nothing life-threatening, but he knew he was losing. Then it happened. He stepped on the side of his foot, stumbled, then tripped while trying to recover. His arms dropped, an instinctive attempt to stop the fall that cost him his life. His defenses down, Liz sliced through his exposed neck, severing the connection between head and body. She barely even paused over his body, headed now for the wall in front of her.
“Dammit, dammit, dammit!” The staked vampire had taken a break to watch the fight, a decision he was now regretting. He renewed his efforts of freeing himself from the small wooden anchors with great vigor,
but it wasn’t going to be enough. Her eyes were fixed on him, and already he could see her sword rising into position, ready to liberate the one part of his body not stuck fast to the wall. Then, he smiled.
Liz paused. Fear, anger, and desperation she had seen and understood, but the smile? That was unexpected, and a little unsettling. Besides which, he wasn’t even looking at her. Why wasn’t he looking at her?
The only reason she saw the passing shadow was because she had turned to see what the vampire found so amusing. It was also why she merely felt the light breeze of the passing blade against her skin, rather than its sting in her flesh. There were no footsteps accompanying the fleeting shadow, only the whistle of blade through air. It could only mean one thing: Samuel was here.
Liz gripped her sword tight and stood perfectly still, listening and watching for any movement. Behind her, she could hear the sounds of tearing flesh again, punctuated with growls and groans of pain. Whatever was left of the vampire once he was free was going to be one pissed off mess, but she could deal with that later. Samuel was a much more real, and immediate, threat.
“Now where did that little shadow go?” she wondered aloud. At least Samuel wasn’t trying to kill her, she reasoned as she moved away from the wall and further back into the room. He may have meant to cut her with that swipe, but its intent was only as an introduction, a beginning to the game. He was still following Malock’s orders, for now, though she found little comfort in the thought.
“I don’t remember there being so many shadows before,” she mumbled to herself as she followed yet another one around a column, only to find nothing there. She had chased nothing but shadows all the way across this room without even a glimpse of Samuel, and was beginning to wonder if he was even still in here. This was taking too long, and trying to watch every direction was becoming exhausting. She lowered the point of her sword to the ground. It was exactly what he was waiting on.
Liz heard a footstep on her left, but the attack came from her right, knocking her to the ground and leaving a cut across her right arm only a second later. She jumped back to her feet, glancing at the cut just long enough to see it wasn’t deep. Before she could even wonder where he disappeared to, Samuel’s masked face appeared in front of her. She had time to raise the sword, but it wasn’t enough to stop him.
Shackles of Sunlight Page 24