Blood Run – The Complete Trilogy – First Promise, Two Riders, Last Chance

by Dougherty, Christine

  Promise, who’d turned toward him at the mention of the horses, turned away, embarrassed to have caught him so obviously relieving himself. “We can just give it a ride to the next animal hospital, right?” His voice was heavy with sarcasm, and he shot Promise a look of contempt.

  “Ev, geez, give it a rest,” Miller said, setting peanut butter crackers down near Riker. “We all know how you feel. Now shut the hell up about it. This isn’t an EST session.”

  Riker looked at the crackers and grimaced. He said, “Peanut butter?”

  Miller raised her hands and shrugged her shoulders. Then she turned back to Evans. “Where’s Lu?” she asked.

  Evans shrugged and bit into a half-eaten beef jerky he’d fished from a front pocket. He chewed. “Dunno. Shitting, I guess.”

  Miller glanced at Promise who was rummaging in the food. Promise’s cheeks had colored with embarrassment. “Ev, language? Okay? Do you have to be such an animal?”

  Evans grinned at her apishly, bits of beef caught in his teeth. “Me no know what you say!” he said and grunted twice. “Me Tarzan!” His eyes went to Promise and glimmered meanly. “Me want lady to make fu–”

  “Enough!” Riker said and slapped Evans across the back of his head. Evans ducked and cursed under his breath, but slunk away toward the lead Humvee, rubbing his head. It hadn’t been a playful slap.

  Riker smiled briefly at Promise. “How you holding up?” Riker asked. He was middle-age looking and the one in charge of the detail.

  “Fine, no problems. Ash actually seems pretty happy with all the walking,” she said and smiled.

  “Let’s hope so. He’s got a good ten to twelve days of it coming up,” Riker said. “When we stop for the night, make sure you look over his hooves very carefully. Check for any small stones, especially. A small enough stone wouldn’t impede him right away, but could crack the hoof over time.”

  Promise nodded, her face studious. She liked Riker, had liked him almost on sight. There were aspects of him–especially the gentle lecturing–that reminded her of her dad. She wondered if he had kids of his own, maybe even a daughter.

  “Here,” Billet said from behind her. “Keep this flashlight in your kit. It will help you check his feet.” Billet was young, probably not much older than Promise. He had the ingratiating, mischievous manner of a large breed puppy. He handed her the flashlight with a shy grin and then turned abruptly to run back to his Humvee. “Come on, Shields! Get your sorry ass back in the truck, you stupid grunt!”

  Shields threw a mock punch, and Billet pretended he’d been hit. He swayed back with a theatrical ‘uuuurrgh’ then snapped up, laughing. They clambered into their Humvee, shooting imaginary guns and dying by turns.

  Riker shook his head. “They’re young.” He smiled briefly at Promise then turned back to the vehicles. “Miller, let’s go, we have to make tracks to get to Masonville by four. Hey, Evans, where’s Lu?”

  Evans, who’d been laying across the hood of the Humvee, sat up and shrugged his shoulders.

  “Yo, Riker! Check this out!”

  The voice called from near a low billboard thirty feet ahead. The last soldier–Lu–stood on the shoulder of the road, waving at Riker in a hurry up gesture. His voice was filled with cautious alarm. Peter stood next to him, hands in his pockets, looking at something behind the billboard.

  They all went to see what had Lu so alarmed.

  Peter stepped away as they approached and grabbed Promise’s hand. “Hold on, don’t look yet. It’s…it’s pretty gruesome.”

  From the corner of her eye, Promise caught Evans’ derisive snort and shaking head. Embarrassed annoyance flooded her. “I’m not a baby, you know,” she said quietly, only to Peter, not wanting to make a further spectacle of herself. Then she drew her hand away.

  “Promise,” Peter said, taking her face in his hands. “I know that. I wasn’t saying you were. I just want you to be prepared. It’s really–”

  Billet flew by behind Peter, his hand over his mouth. He bent double and threw up, yarking painfully. Then he did it again.

  Promise looked from Billet to the rest of the soldiers, expecting to see a smirk on at least Evans’ face…but they were all still, staring at the ground.

  She looked.

  There were two bodies. A man on his back looked at first to be wearing a brownish-red jumpsuit, but then Promise blinked and realized his entire front was covered in dried blood. His throat had been ravaged, but it looked more chewed than sliced. The ridged tube of his esophagus was visible along with the thick, white tendons at either side of his throat. Flies buzzed sluggishly in the cold air.

  Half on and half off him was a form that had at one time been human. It was shrunken, wizened, it’s body brownish black and bumpy with layers of thick, deflated-looking yellow skin that Promise realized were drained blisters. Bile filled the back of her throat.

  “Oh, man,” Billet muttered unhappily, off to the side. Then he heaved again. Promise felt an answering tug in her own stomach.

  Long, white hair lay in clumps around the bodies, tangled in the weeds. The vampire’s head was peeled looking, the skull showing through in places.

  Riker stirred and shook himself, like a man coming awake. “Okay, it’s gross, there’s no question, but we’ve seen lots of victims, Lu. I don’t know why you wanted us to…”

  “I think it happened in daylight,” Lu said, and Promise, along with everyone else, turned to him.

  “What? Lu, you’re out of your mind! You can’t–” Miller started, but Lu cut her off.

  “This guy,” he said and pointed to the man with the ripped neck, “was not on a night expedition. Unless he was completely uninformed or clinically insane, he was not out at night. Look around…no flashlight, no torch, no stakes, no…no preparation at all. He was young, fit, he was obviously collecting stuff.” He pointed to a bag about twenty feet away that had spilled out canned goods, water, books. “He doesn’t have a coat on, even. I’m telling you–this guy was attacked in daylight. That’s why it’s–the vampire–is burned up. It came out in the sunlight.”

  Lu crossed his arms over his chest and stared away at the horizon. He was on the small side, but very trim and fit looking, his dark eye slightly magnified behind glasses. “This vampire attacked him during the day. I think it might have come out of those woods over there–” He pointed.

  Promise turned and looked and was eerily reminded of the day a vampire had chased her and Ash through the woods during the day. Those woods had been thick, like the ones Lu pointed to now, but the day had been much more overcast than this one. Then she remembered that the blood on the man was brown and dried. Whatever had happened had happened yesterday at the earliest. What had the weather been like then?

  “It was raining yesterday,” Lu said, and Promise started uneasily. It was almost as though he’d read her thoughts. “Thunderstorms off and on and overcast the entire day; there was no sun. No sun shining, I mean.”

  The soldiers all shifted and looked at each other. Promise opened her mouth to speak, and Peter squeezed her hand. She looked at him, and there was a caution in his eyes.

  “I guess this could have been a half-and-half…maybe that’s why it could go out on a cloudy day. But I hate to think what–” Miller started then stopped, glancing at Peter.

  Riker looked up at the sun. “Let’s go,” he said. “We’re wasting time. We’ll talk about it tonight. God knows we’ll have the time then.”

  He smiled at Peter and Promise as he went by, but the other soldiers regarded Peter with caution.

  ~ ~ ~

  “Why didn’t you want me to tell them about the vampire that chased me in the woods?” Promise asked. They were back on the horses and trotting quickly along behind the Humvees.

  Peter shot her a look of surprise. “You could have told them that. I thought you were going to say something about me.”

  “What would I have said? They all know you’re…they all know your story, don’t they?”
>
  “Yeah, they do. I just didn’t want you to have to feel like you had to defend me in any way.”

  Promise glanced at the Humvee in front of them. Lu was driving, and Evans was turned, looking at them through the small back window. He was hard to see in the dim vehicle, but she thought he looked contemptuous. Then he turned around.

  She didn’t like it. She didn’t like him.

  Peter looked at the woods on either side of the road. They were closing in, getting closer to the road by the mile, and the sun was on the downside of afternoon. He’d be glad when they got to Masonville and were safely in for the night.

  He wouldn’t let himself realize that part of his anxiety arose from the fact that the drawing of the night lit a pulse of excitement in his brain, like distant, soundless heat lightning.

  ~ ~ ~

  They’d picked a former deli on the main street of Masonville to stop for the night. Its plate-glass window had been reinforced with plywood, and it was essentially one large room that would easily accommodate both humans and horses. A countertop ran the length of the space, cutting it in half, but the deli cases, slicers, machines, tables and chairs had all been cleared out at some point in the past.

  The horses were dozing on the far side of the counter, near the back wall. A Coleman lantern glowed cheerily in the dark room, but no one seemed cheered by it. Promise thought that the corpses by the billboard rode heavily on their minds.

  Promise was reminded of the time when the grocery store her dad managed–ShopALot–was bought out by the Market Basket, and her parents had had two gloomy weeks, wondering if her dad was going to be kept on or not. It had been all they could think about, and it had put a pall on every family activity.

  She did now what she had done back then: she tried to distract herself and everyone else with conversation.

  “How long have you guys been a unit? Is that what you call it?” Promise asked and offered out a handful of candy bars.

  Riker stirred and smiled at her, taking a Snickers. “We’re a unit, yes, and let’s see…Miller has been with me for just over a year. Billet and Shields came as a matched set about eight months ago, Evans a month later. I’ve known Lu for ten years, but he’s been in the unit for less than a month. We lost a team member right around Thanksgiving. What used to be Thanksgiving.”

  “You lost someone?” Promise said with alarm, and Riker smiled.

  “Nothing dramatic, she just transferred. We lost her more to boredom than anything else. This kind of detail isn’t for everyone.”

  Evans snorted. “Are you kidding? Who wouldn’t like to be a glorified mailman?” He smirked, and his eyes slid to Promise. “And a babysitter. Add that to the list of things I can put on my résumé now.”

  Promise looked down, but beside her Miller laughed. “That’s a good one, Tarzan. A résumé! Can you even write? Or read?”

  Billet and Shields picked up on the word Tarzan. Shields beat his chest and yodeled, while Billet scratched at his armpits and hooted and oofed like a chimpanzee. Evans shot them a dirty look, and they fell on each other, laughing and wrestling.

  “Hey, why don’t you two idiots shut the hell up?” Evans said then looked at Miller. “You think I’m stupid?” he said with incredulity and pointed at Shields and Billet who rolled in a tangle across the deli floor. “Look at those–”

  A scream came from outside.

  The soldiers jumped up so quickly that Promise jerked back and dropped her candy bar. Billet, completely sober in an instant, doused the Coleman as he stood. Now the room was almost entirely black with the exception of a small sliver of moonlight coming through a twelve-inch expanse of window left uncovered at the top.

  “Outpost?” Riker said and looked at Miller questioningly.

  Promise was mystified.

  Miller shook her head. “Not according to the maps. Not since October. The last survivors were relocated to Granger. There were too many attacks here. Probably too close to the woods.”

  The scream came again from somewhere close by.

  “Vamp or human?” Riker said.

  “Human,” Lu said, and Miller nodded agreement.

  “Peter, you and Promise move behind the horses. You have stakes?”

  Peter nodded and grabbed Promise’s hand, but Promise stood firm, resisting.

  “You’re going out there?” Promise asked Riker. She was more confused than outraged, and Riker put a hand on her shoulder.

  “It’s what we do. Don’t worry.” He winked at her, and she let Peter pull her away.

  The soldiers drew on their short coats, and six arms clicked the neck protection across six throats. Then they each drew something complicated-looking from their bags. Six quiet clicks came through the dark, and the complications resolved themselves into short, deadly looking crossbows. The crossbows shot the carbon fiber, matte black arrows known as ‘bolts’.

  “Shields, Billet: bang left. Evans, right. Miller, straight out and cover Evans. Lu and I have the door. Go.”

  They had been standing at the plywood-covered, former glass door of the deli, and at the word ‘go’, Billet shouldered it open and rolled around it to the left with Shields practically on his back. Evans hooked right, and Miller proceeded across the road facing the direction Evans had gone.

  To Promise, they looked like a dark eddy of water flowing out the door. She felt a wave of disorientation and then realized what it was from. These soldiers didn’t jingle and clank with equipment and weapons as they moved out. They went like ninjas: swift and light, and utterly silent, crossbows up and at the ready.

  Miller melted into the shadows of the buildings on the far side of the road, her eyes on Evans. He kept close to the buildings on his side, ducking from dark place to dark place. Miller glanced once in the direction Billet and Shields had gone. They were invisible. She controlled her breath and listened, waiting.

  The scream came again, and it sounded as though it was right behind her. She glanced over her shoulder at the words ‘Banner’s Family Ice Cream Parlor’ scrolled in fat, gilt letters across the door she leaned on. You scream, I scream, she thought, turning the doorknob…locked, we all scream for–

  She brought her elbow up and into the glass, breaking it in a cascade of glittering fake gold. She snaked her hand in and popped the lock. By the time she had her hand back on the outer doorknob, Evans was in front of her, and Billet and Shields were crossing the street a half a black down, coming her way. Miller nodded at Evans and turned the knob, opening the door.

  Evans edged past her and into the ice cream parlor, scanning it quickly with his crossbow at eye level. He looked corner-to-corner, assessing the room. It was similar to the deli, with a long counter breaking the room in half about fifteen feet back. But there was another doorway behind the counter. There was no door on it. He could see the first three risers of a set of stairs.

  The scream came again, directly above them.

  Miller ran fleetly past him, making no sound, and mounted the stairs, her crossbow pointed up the stairwell. Evans was behind her as Shields and Billet entered the parlor. He motioned for one of them to hang at the door and the other to stay at the bottom of the stairs. No one in, no one out. They nodded and took up their places.

  Miller was almost to the top, with Evans right behind her. She turned into the only doorway. A row of uncovered windows that faced the main street let in a fair amount of moonlight, enough to see the entirety of the room. It was a bedroom, or used to be. A sagging, bare-mattressed twin bed was tucked under the windows. Five tattered posters clung to the plaster like shredding wallpaper. A painted nightstand held a lamp with a ripped shade and shattered bulb.

  A girl, maybe five or six, was huddled in the farthest corner, her hands clamped over her ears, eyes closed. A man hovered over her, seemingly at odds with himself. He reached for her and then tore his hands away. He reached again and snatched his hand back, almost as though she were too hot to touch.

  “Hey,” Miller said quietly, bare
ly breathing the word. The man turned. His face was long, but not as long as it would get if he were allowed to fully turn. His teeth had whitened and sharpened, and his skin had the deathly pallor of all vampires. As Miller brought the bolt in her crossbow to center on his chest, she could have sworn she saw a look of relief in the vampire’s eyes.

  She pulled the trigger, and the bolt hissed the fifteen deadly feet into the vampire’s chest. It pierced his heart, and a gout of black blood burbled from his mouth. Without a sound, he collapsed to his knees.

  The little girl jumped up, screamed again, and scrambled to the man. She threw herself against him, seemingly unaware of the wash of thick blood on his chest. “Daddy!” she cried, and the man’s hand came shakily to her back, comforting her even as he toppled onto his back, dead.

  The girl screamed again, and Miller plucked her from her father’s body and put her hand over the child’s mouth. If there were other vampires close by, the screaming would draw them. All Guard soldiers knew the benefit of silence when it came to fighting vampires.

  The front of the girl’s nightgown was wet with her father’s blood. Miller whispered, ‘Sshhh,’ in the child’s ear, but she continued to struggle and scream around Miller’s hand. “Honey, please, you’ll bring the vampires…please be quiet,” Miller said softly, loosening her grip on the child. “We’re not going to hurt you.”

  The words must have set up echoes of familiarity in the child’s mind because she quieted. She shook like a cold, terrified kitten and looked up at Miller. Her eyes were enormous with shock and moonglow sparkled on the tears she’d shed.

  From the stairs, Evans said, “We gotta go, Miller.”

  The girl’s lips worked, and Miller bent to hear. Her voice was barely a whisper of breath. “My daddy was a vampire,” she said. Miller gripped the girl’s shoulders and nodded.

  “We’re here to save you,” Miller said. “What’s your name, sweetheart? Can you tell me?”