Ismene joined them. “Good evening, Chaos. Would you care for a glass of blood?”
Chaos waved his hand, declining the offer.
“Please continue,” Elson encouraged Chaos.
“I don’t know what those things are that did that to Sophia—werewolves, hybrid vampires—I don’t know, but whatever they are, I’m gonna kill ’em. I was really into that girl. So much, I was thinking about turning her so we could spend eternity together.”
“That’s surprising. Never thought of you as the type to settle down.”
Chaos shrugged. “Sophia’s not the jealous type; that’s why we get along so well.”
“I see,” Elson said. “So what’s going on with Sophia now? Is she outside on the loose—like all the others that have been bitten?”
“Nah, I got her chained up at my crib. For her own safety. She’s shot out—crazy! And I think the combination of my saliva mixed with the infection from that bite wound has worsened her condition.” Chaos closed his eyes sorrowfully. “I need some advice, man.”
Elson leaned forward.
“Do you think Sophia will change back to her normal self if I go home and turn her?”
“It’s doubtful, Chaos. She’s likely to have the same mentality that she has right now. Believe me; you have to be careful about who you turn. Turning the wrong one can feel like a life sentence. Take Adelaide, for example. I found her in a mental institution in the early nineteen hundreds. Never meant to turn her, but I was nearly starved. Unable to quench my thirst, my lips lingered too long, and I’ve been stuck with her ever since. As you know, she recently turned a toddler. Now I not only have a crazy vampire under my roof, but I’m grandfather to a child that will never outgrow his terrible twos.” Elson groaned and shook his head.
“That sucks, man. Adelaide’s insanity can be too much to put up with sometimes. I’m over the top, but as wild as I am, I’m in control of my mental faculties. I can only tolerate Adelaide in small doses, and only when I’m high.”
“You should try dealing with her and the kid at the same time. They give me a headache, and there’s no peace in this house when they’re around. To maintain my sanity, I had to kick them out of the mansion, and put them up in the guest house,” Elson confessed, frowning in displeasure. “But, back to our current situation.” He turned beseeching eyes upon Chaos. “Man, we’re at war, and you’re going to have to forget about your personal problems while we take out the creatures that are robbing us of our daily sustenance.”
“Okay, I got you. What’s the plan?” Chaos asked.
“We’re only aware of one method that kills them; and that’s severing their heads. We’ve decided to use our humans as bait to take out the flesh eaters in large groups when they swoop down on the fresh meat,” Ismene informed.
Chaos nodded. “Good strategy.”
Elson took a sip of blood, allowing the chilled liquid to saturate his mouth before releasing it to his parched throat. “But we have a problem . . . our stash of humans has dwindled significantly. We could use more warm bodies.”
“I can’t help you with that; I don’t keep more than one or two humans on hand, and I’m traveling lighter than ever these days,” Chaos said.
“You have Sophia,” Ismene reminded.
“Nah, she’s too close; I can’t do that to her.”
Elson made a scoffing sound. “You’re not thinking rationally, Chaos. I want you to listen to me carefully.”
Chaos looked Elson in the eye.
“Aside from Adelaide and her kid, my large and close-knit family was chosen very carefully. Times like now, their various specialties come in handy. Though close friends, you and I are very different. You don’t want the responsibility of caring for a large group; you have always avoided close attachments, and under normal circumstances, I can respect that. But times like now, it would behoove you to join ranks with us, and give me your full support.”
“That’s what I’m doing, man,” Chaos said irritably.
Elson’s eyes briefly turned to slits. “No, you’re not. I’m asking you to sacrifice Sophia—for the good of the group—for our survival. Why after all these years, do you want to finally start a family with someone who could be worse off than Adelaide?”
“But she might get better after she’s turned.”
“Her mind is gone and she’ll never be the same. We’re fighting to survive and you should do your part.”
“I’ll think about it . . . end of subject,” Chaos said firmly. “So, what do you need me to do tonight?”
Elson let out a sigh. “Get your boys together and go out with Travis’s team and study how they slaughter large numbers of those flesh-eaters. Once you’ve gotten the hang of it, you and your team should spread out to other areas. Hang their heads in visible places. I want everyone to know that we’re at war.
Chaos rose to his feet. “You got it.”
CHAPTER 28
The headaches were so debilitating, Jonas hadn’t left his hotel room for days, nor had he accepted any of Holland’s calls. He couldn’t. It was unbearable to feel sound vibrations traveling through his ear canal. And his eyes had become so sensitive to light, he stayed inside his darkened, silent room, huddled in a chair and holding his head.
At first he thought he was imagining things when the shouts inside his head became intermingled with shrieks and screams that seemed to be coming from the corridor outside his room. Why is everyone shouting? Jonas wondered, bent over in pain as he made his way to his hotel door. Cracking open the door, he peered out to investigate. The bright light in the hallway caused his vision to blur momentarily, and when the scene in the hallway finally came into focus, Jonas was sure his mind was playing tricks on him.
At the far end of the corridor, two housekeepers were tussling and swatting at each other as they muttered curse words and called each other derogatory names.
“Hey! What’s going on?” Jonas called out, careful to keep the volume of his voice down. But even the low tone caused him agonizing pain, and he dared not shout for fear of splitting his head in two. One woman picked up a bottle of cleaning product and threw it, hitting the other housekeeper squarely in the chest.
Incensed, the housekeeper who’d been hit with a bottle filled with green liquid, knocked over a cleaning cart, and leapt over the toppled vehicle with its tiny wheels spinning wildly. She was so enraged and so desperate for retribution, she seemed to soar in the air, with arms outstretched and fingers clawed as she sought out her opponent’s throat. One on top of the other, both women squabbled on the floor. The one that seemed eager to wrap her hands around the other’s neck was holding her victim down, and even from a distance of sixty feet, Jonas could see the woman’s eyes burning with hunger.
Jonas raced along the corridor. Dismissing the pain in his head, he yelled for the two women to stop, and by the time he reached them, the one on top had used her teeth to rip into the other’s throat. With a gouged-out eye and a throat that had been torn to shreds, the woman on the bottom was obviously dead. The other shouted what sounded like a war cry and launched into a macabre, victory dance, and then darted for the stairs.
Why hadn’t these women responded to his call? Were they a new breed of creatures that didn’t answer to any master? Confused, he followed the fresh blood scent that led down several flights of stairs and ended in the lobby. He heard a melee of screams, whining, and shouting, and braced himself before opening the door.
But nothing could have prepared him for the sight he beheld. The pristine lobby was now a gruesome crime scene with blood spatters covering walls, the marble floor, even the chandelier dripped blood. Bodies were sprawled in every direction. Jonas winced when he saw that the kindly receptionist’s face had been eaten away.
On the lobby level, he ran from one end to the other, checking for survivors, but found only mutilated bodies in the gift shop, the computer center, and the restaurant. Making his way to the fitness center, Jonas detected movement, and the buzzing
sound of machinery filled the air. He did a double-take when he spotted two figures together on a moving treadmill. One was taking bites out of the other, grazing leisurely while the human prey was stock still from shock or most likely from death.
“Stop!” Jonas yelled hoarsely. The aggressor froze and looked toward the sound of Jonas’s voice. Jonas noticed that he had the decayed appearance of the creatures he had locked away. Seeming to recognize Jonas as an authority figure, the decomposing creature stood up and tottered toward Jonas, making whining sounds as he lumbered toward him.
Relieved that he wasn’t being met with any resistance, Jonas hastily led his progeny through the restaurant and to the kitchen in the rear. There was an abundance of raw meat in the fridge, and the creature greedily shoveled lamb chops and pork tenderloin into his blood-filled mouth. Jonas locked him inside the restaurant and went to search for others that were a part of him.
It troubled him that the housekeepers had refused to heed his warning. What caused them to behave so disobediently? Jonas wondered. Comparing the differences between the housekeepers and the creature he’d captured in the fitness center, he realized that the housekeepers had maintained human qualities and were still attempting to function at their jobs. The rotting creatures, however, had lost all their human abilities and seemed to only respond to the scent of blood and Jonas’s presence.
When had they arrived in Frombleton? How many were there? Were they responsible for infecting the housekeepers’ and passing on their penchant for the taste of human flesh and blood? There were so many baffling questions swirling around in his mind, but he couldn’t waste any more time trying to come up with answers. He had to amass as many creatures as possible, get them off the streets for the safety of the residents of Frombleton.
Outside the hotel, the streets were teeming with the newly infected, that were prowling around and snapping their jaws in their eagerness to feed. Some chased cars; others broke windows of business establishments in an attempt to feast upon anything that moved. Jonas shouted at them in a booming, authoritative tone, but as if he were mute and invisible, none of the infected gave him as much as glance.
He watched helplessly as a suit-wearing businessman used a briefcase to bash a cyclist over the head, knocking him off his bicycle and rendering him helpless on the ground. The businessman and a horde of starving people descended on the cyclist, clawing at him and biting in a frenzy of madness.
A woman raced along the pavement, pushing a double stroller that was occupied by curly-headed, identical girls.
“No! No!” Jonas shouted, as he ran behind the salivating crowd. They swarmed around the mother and her children, descending upon them, and covering them completely. Jonas pulled the ravenous creatures off, flinging them one by one, as far as he could. But each snarling creature he removed was quickly replaced by several others. They kept coming, so many of them that he was helpless to save the family that was being assaulted and brutalized. Sickened, he backed away, covering his ears against the terrible screams of the mother and her innocent children.
He stared in horror at the bloody massacre that was taking place on the streets of Frombleton and choked back a sob. All he’d ever wanted was to get an education, and to become a member of the healing profession one day. But instead, he’d become a killer and had fathered a legion of monstrous flesh-eaters that were rapidly multiplying.
He’d always thought of himself as a decent person, and had refused to believe Mamba Mathilde when she had accused him of being wicked and beyond redemption. But she was right. Here on the streets of Frombleton, these unholy creatures he’d spawned were the evidence of his corrupt soul. Never in his wildest dreams could he have ever imagined himself capable of creating such contemptible beings. Never could he have envisioned the scenes from hell that were hideously unfolding before his very eyes.
After discovering that raw meat satisfied his and his progeny’s cravings, he’d been so certain that there’d be no more needless bloodshed. But that wasn’t the case—not with this new strain of creatures. They were ravenous for human flesh and were completely uncontrollable.
He thought of Holland and swallowed in fear. Was she all right or had his vile spawn destroyed her, too? He looked up at the dark sky and felt comforted in the knowledge that Holland was protected by the force field that surrounded her home. The force field was meant to keep out vampires, could it also protect her from this new breed of flesh-eating creatures?
Jonas closed his eyes and imagined Holland’s face. Feeling her presence as clearly as if she were within arm’s reach, he knew intuitively that no harm had come to her—that she was safe and sound. It saddened him to imagine her sorrow when she realized that her spells could not save him, and sadly, he had to ask one last favor of her.
CHAPTER 29
Hours had passed, and Holland and Phoebe had made little progress toward the armory. Taking back streets had slowed them down, but avoiding the flesh-eaters required stealth and patience. During their journey, they discovered that abandoned cars and empty buildings were the perfect breeding grounds for the undead. They’d survived several ambushes before realizing they were better off walking in the middle of the street, rather than sticking close to buildings and cars.
Alert for even the slightest sign of movement, Holland and Phoebe carefully resumed their trek to the armory.
“You told those people that took the police car to make sure they find some place to hide, yet we’re out here roaming the streets, making ourselves vulnerable,” Phoebe complained.
“They don’t have access to a safe house . . . we do.”
“Yeah, but I’d feel a lot better if I had a weapon of some kind. Geez, it’s getting so dark, it would be comforting to have a flashlight or even the dim light of my cell phone.”
Holland nodded in agreement, and then suddenly flinched when a shadow appeared on the wall of a three-story, stone house.
“Just a cat,” Phoebe assured her. Holland released a breath and looked around warily. In this dangerous, new world, all shadows were suspect.
Attempting to release tension, Holland began chatting with her mother. “I wasted my time packing that duffle bag. A lot of good it’s doing us, laying on the back seat of the Saab.” She sighed, wondering if Rebecca would freak out when she found out that The Book of Spells was inside her backpack. Taking her mind off the spell book, she said, “I feel lost without my cell phone, too. If I had it on me, I’d call Rebecca. Even with all these corpses walking around, I’m sure she’d come out and pick us up.”
Phoebe scanned the ground and picked up a small rock. Holland covered her mouth to stifle a snicker.
“Hey, don’t knock it.” Phoebe held up the rock. “This worked for primitive man, and it’s better than being trying to ward off those things empty-handed.”
“You’re absolutely right. Sorry for laughing.” Following Phoebe’s example, Holland found a jagged rock and balled her fist around it.
“Geez, I’m tired. And I’m starving,” Phoebe complained.
“Me, too.”
“I don’t think I’ve walked this far since I was a teenager.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever walked this far,” Holland said with soft laughter. “My feet are throbbing and I can’t wait to soak them.”
“I hope Rebecca and her friends have lots of food on hand. I could go for a hot roast beef sandwich with gravy or a big plate of spaghe—”
“Shh. I hear something,” Holland whispered. Seconds later, a hulking figure seemed to appear out of thin air. Holland and Phoebe shrieked in fear as a man wearing mechanic’s coveralls stumbled out of a darkened gas station. His arms were outstretched as he groped in hungry anticipation. Without thinking twice, Holland hurled the rock, hitting him squarely between the eyes. Surprisingly, the rock knocked the mechanic off his feet.
Holland and Phoebe took off running for about a half-block, but when they realized that they weren’t being chased, they slowed their pace and looked over the
ir shoulders. To their utter surprise, the mechanic hadn’t risen. He was stretched out on the ground, his body unmoving.
“Do you think he’s dead?” Holland whispered.
“He’s already dead, isn’t he?”
“I mean, dead-dead? You know—like, forever dead?”
“Well, he hasn’t gotten back up, and I don’t think they have the mental capacity to play possum,” Phoebe said.
“We should check and see if he’s like . . . unconscious or if he’s actually dead-dead.”
“No! That’s crazy—why should we do that?”
“Knowing that it’s possible to kill those things would be useful information.”
“I don’t know, hon.” Phoebe gnawed on her bottom lip and shook her head doubtfully.
Holland’s eyes swept the ground, looking for a replacement rock, but she didn’t see anything except tiny stones and pebbles. “Stay here, Mom. I’ll be right back.”
“No, don’t you dare go near that terrible corpse.”
“It can’t outrun me. The only way they get us is by outnumbering us or by taking us by surprise. My guard is up, and if it blinks or twitches, I’ll take off. I promise, Mom. I’ll be fine.”
“Here, take this,” Phoebe said, handing Holland her rock.
Rock in hand, Holland crept toward the motionless mechanic. Standing over him, she held up the rock, prepared to smash his face if he so much as moved a muscle. But he didn’t move. With her rock lodged in the center of his forehead, a bubbling gore oozed out and trickled down his dreadful face. Holland poked him in the side with the toe of her shoe, but the corpse remained still and lifeless.
Grimacing, she tugged on the rock that jutted out of the creature’s head. She worked to retrieve her weapon, gagging and dry-heaving at the squishy sounds that emanated as she struggled to dislodge the rock. A final twist and it popped out, and Holland nearly vomited at the sight of the disgusting mixture of thickened blood and clumps of brains that oozed out of the hole in the creature’s head.
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