by ID Johnson
He was wrong.
At approximately 1:00 AM, there was a loud crash from the end of the hallway, which jarred him awake. It took him a moment to remember where he was. He looked at the guards questioningly, but they were just as puzzled as he was. However, their confusion only lasted a few seconds as four armed men came around the corner, assault weapons drawn. Before the officers could even draw their weapons, the assailants opened fire, taking them both out. The nurse from the front desk hurried around from her station, a panicked expression on her face, and they shot her, too. Dixon ducked behind a chair. He was at least twenty yards away from the armed men, two of which entered Gibbon’s room, one keeping lookout, and the fourth was coming right towards him.
Dixon knew the chair was no protection against the weaponry this large man dressed all in black was carrying, but he hoped he could at least make himself a smaller target as he aimed his own handgun. Crouched on one knee, he pointed his revolver through the arm of the chair, took aim, and fired.
He was a great shot, and the bullet hit the assailant right between the eyes. However, he didn’t slow in his advance. Though there was a gaping wound in the man’s head, there was no blood, and as Dixon continued to fire, like a bad dream where the odds are stacked against the dreamer, the man kept coming, a menacing grin on his face.
Just then, a security guard came around the corner, his weapon drawn. The intruder dropped him quickly before he could even fire. Dixon took the opportunity to attack. He hurled himself at the man, attempting to knock the assault weapon away from him. Making contact was similar to hitting a brick wall, and Dixon felt the breath come out of his body. Though his adrenaline was pumping, he was suddenly in a lot of pain. And the assailant was no worse for the wear, flipping him onto the ground as if he were a cockroach. Dixon banged against the floor, feeling his ribs crack as he landed. He looked up into the snarling face of the enemy, realizing these were likely his last moments. But rather than shoot him at point blank range, the large man dropped down on top of him. With one hand, he pulled up on Dixon’s head, and with the other, he shoved his shoulder out of the way. Before Dixon knew what was happening, he felt a severe burning sensation in his neck. His body began to spasm as the beast sucked the life out of him, and just when he thought he couldn’t take the pain anymore, the brute stopped. Wiping the bright crimson blood from his mouth, the assailant laughed. Dixon couldn’t move, his body completely drained of energy. His hallow eyes stared up into the demonic face of a monster whose menacing laughter sounded like the growl of an animal.
Giovani stepped into Gibbon’s room accompanied by Preston and Howard. He knew no one would get past Meat and Martin in the hallway, but he wanted to make sure they worked quickly and efficiently; they needed to be gone before the police even left the station.
There were all kinds of cords and machines hooked up to Gibbon, who was still out and completely oblivious to what was happening to him. Giovani eyed the medical equipment momentarily before shrugging and beginning to tear cords out of the machines so that they could move him.
“He may need some of those things,” Howard whispered in his deep voice.
“Well, he’ll have to do without for a few minutes,” Giovani replied. “We can’t take it with us.”
Once Gibbon was free, Giovani took a moment to admire him. He was even more muscular in real-life than he had appeared to be on TV. Even while unconscious, he looked like a formidable foe, one who could rip Cadence Findley’s arms off and beat her with them; he smiled. “Let’s get him out of here, shall we?”
They had brought a litter with them so that they could get him up to the rooftop more quickly. Giovani stepped out of the way and the two large men hoisted Gibbon out of his hospital bed and onto the more mobile gurney as delicately as they could. He didn’t wake, but he did groan loudly, causing Giovani to warn them to be careful.
Giovani poked his head out into the hallway. Martin was standing near the corner back the way they had come, and he saw Meat at the other end of the hallway; everyone else was on the ground. “Any survivors?” Giovani called.
“Just this guy,” Meat called back. “Oh, and that nurse is still jerking around quite a bit.”
“Bring them,” Giovani replied, not really giving much thought to whether or not that was physically possible, even for the brute. Stepping over the fallen officers, he held the door as Preston and Howard made their way out of the room, carrying Gibbon.
Once in the hallway, Giovani assumed the lead, revolver in hand. As they came around the corner on the way to the elevator, a security guard ducked out from behind a vending machine, firing. He missed—but Giovani didn’t, and the middle-aged man dropped to the ground. Giovani stepped over him.
“I hate taking the elevator because I don’t want to get trapped in there, but I think it’s the fastest way,” Giovani mumbled as they made their way inside. It was a tight squeeze with so many big bodies, and so many nearly dead ones, but they made it work, and soon they were at the top floor.
As they exited, they could hear alarms going off all over the building. “Damn it,” Giovanni hissed. “Someone’s alerted the police.”
“We did make a little bit of noise,” Howard reminded him.
Giovani didn’t respond. Tanner already had the chopper started, and they hurried to load Gibbon inside. Zabrina had gone along with the group that had accessed the roof by climbing up the fire escape, along with Tanner, Martin, and Howard, the latter two of which had subsequently met the rest of the assault team downstairs. Now, she was standing between Giovani and the rooftop access door, assault rifle in hand, and he couldn’t help but think about how sexy she looked holding that semi-automatic weapon. He would have stopped to kiss her if he wasn’t in such a hurry.
Once Gibbon was inside the chopper, Meat tossed in the other two bodies. “Zabrina, come on!” Howard yelled. She was the only one small enough to fit in the back with the victims.
“Who are these other people?” Zabrina asked as she climbed aboard.
“Reserva de sange,” Giovani replied as he climbed into the front seat. “See you in a bit!” he yelled to Howard, Meat, Martin, and Preston. They shouldn’t have any trouble getting out of the hospital unless LIGHTS had shown up, and he was pretty certain they had no idea what was happening—not yet.
“Yes, sir,” Howard called, slamming the door closed and stepping back out of the way.
Giovani gave the signal, and Tanner took the bird up into the air. As they took off, Giovani caught a glimpse of the rooftop door bursting open, and two more security guards fell as Howard and his team opened fire.
***
Abby Watson had been dead to the world when a familiar, and yet highly unusual, noise woke her. It sounded like firecrackers; it sounded like an assault rifle.
It took her a moment to realize she wasn’t dreaming, and even though it didn’t sound like it was coming from the hallway directly outside of her door, it seemed to be on this floor. She heard several more shots and screams of terror as she dug her gun out of her bag and hurried to the door.
She opened it cautiously, stuck her head out into the hallway, and saw that it was clear. Staying against the wall, she slid down the hall, quickly but carefully. When she got to the nurses’ station, she saw no one. She could still hear noise coming from the area near Gibbon’s room. She dropped down behind the nurses’ station, and feeling around the bottom of the desk, she finally found what she was looking for—the silent alarm.
Before she extracted herself completely from beneath the desk, she looked around the corner to make sure it was all clear. The fire seemed to have stopped, at least momentarily, but she could still hear strange noises, so she crept from beneath the counter and began to make her way slowly towards the source. As she approached the entryway to the waiting room she had spent so many hours in earlier that day, she saw the body of Nurse Sally lying precariously on the ground in a pool of blood. She heard a strange noise coming from around the corner. It so
unded like a suction of some sort, a soft sucking noise, and she realized instantly that she had heard that noise once before. Dropping to the ground, she peered around the corner, and there she saw one of the most disturbing sights she’d ever lay eyes on, despite her lengthy career in law enforcement.
A large disfigured man was straddling her partner, his face pressed to Dixon’s neck, and as he pulled his head back, Watson could clearly see the blood running down his chin. She froze, a flashback to that fateful night years ago filling her senses. Suddenly, she couldn’t breathe; her hands began to tremble. Somehow, she managed to pull herself back around the corner. She wanted to run to Dixon, to help him, but she knew there was nothing she could do for him now, just as there had been nothing she could do for her sister.
Watson took several deep breaths and calmed herself the best she could, shaking those memories out of her head. “Focus,” she thought to herself. She might not be able to save Dixon, but there were other people in this hospital who still might be in danger. She pulled herself back to a crouching position, and prepared to round the corner. However, as she did so, she heard some shouting, and though she couldn’t make out the words, they were followed by the sound of hurried footsteps down the hall in the opposite direction. Stepping out from around the corner, gun drawn, she prepared to face the monster. But it was too late—he was gone. And so was Dixon.
***
Andrew Cooper had been the Philadelphia Area leader for a few years. For the most part, it hadn’t been that difficult a job, not compared to some areas. He was a Guardian, and he’d been around for a couple of centuries. When he’d gotten the call from Aaron earlier that evening that there was a possibility that Giovani was moving in on the Hospital of the University of Pennsylvania, he had been shocked—and ill prepared. They had never faced anyone the likes of Giovani. It had taken him hours to pool his resources and assemble his people. Now, as he approached the hospital with his team, he could clearly hear that something was going on inside. Alarms were sounding, people were running out of the building, and police sirens blared in the distance. As they came to a stop, a helicopter took off from the roof. That couldn’t be good.
“I think we might be too late,” he had let Aaron and the rest of headquarters know as they pulled into the emergency room entrance. He had fifteen other team members in multiple vehicles, including two motorcycles, nearby. “Cover all of the exits,” he commanded as he exited the SUV he was driving.
The order wasn’t very specific, and through the IAC, he heard Aaron begin to give directions. He could access all of the information Andrew had available through his IAC. Aaron sent two Hunters and a Guardian to the back of the building, four more to a side entrance, and several others to the front of the building. He instructed Andrew and two Hunters, GeeGee and Cutter, to go in through the emergency room exit.
“I’ve gotten access to the hospital security cameras,” Aaron explained, “and it looks like you’ve got four assailants headed down the back stairway. You need to stop them. Try to bring at least one of them in alive if you can so we can question him.”
“Got it,” Andrew said. As they entered the building, they flashed badges at the staff and patients who were huddled on the floor, most of them cowering behind furniture or other objects. They rarely used these badges, as they often pretended to be from another agency, but these clearly said LIGHTS on them, and they were using them because it had been a direct order from Aaron earlier that night.
No one was really looking at them, however.
Andrew led his contingency towards the back stairwell, guns drawn. Before they reached the door, however, it burst open, and the four intruders assumed a defensive formation, firing as they made their way towards a side exit.
Andrew took the lead, trying to provide as much protection as he could to his two Hunters. Vampire bullets couldn’t hurt him, but they could kill his teammates. Though they were returning fire, GeeGee and Cutter were relatively new, and they hadn’t been in many shootouts. None of their shots hit their mark.
Giving chase, Andrew pursued the men down the hallway, his teammates following behind. He fired several rounds, but it was difficult to aim and run at the same time, and the Vampires were moving quickly. He struck one of them in the leg, and he fell backwards. His teammates caught him and continued their sprint to the door.
Just as the Vampires reached the back exit, there was a volley of fire from the LIGHTS members Aaron had directed to take up that location. One of them, a Hunter named Reggie, hit the shortest Vampire directly in the shoulder. He screamed in pain and dropped. A black Jeep screeched out of a parking spot near the door and pulled in front of the Vampires. Reggie and his teammates continued to shoot, but the driver was spraying them with an assault weapon, and they had to take cover. Occasionally, they would pop up and fire off a round, but none of their shots were effective, and within seconds the vehicle sped away, leaving behind a distinct pile of dust on the sidewalk near the exit.
Andrew and his contingency burst through the back door, and Aaron screamed at Reggie and the other two to hold their fire, but one of the Guardians didn’t process the order fast enough, and GeeGee was hit in the leg by her own teammate. She fell to the ground, writhing in agony, and Andrew turned his attention to her to assess the damage. When a Hunter shot another Hunter, the bullet would bounce, which meant her life was not in danger, but it could still be very painful.
As the SUV sped out of the parking lot, the two motorcycles followed. However, the Vampires continued to fire at them, despite the other cars on the road, and the bikes couldn’t quite keep up. The roads weren’t overly crowded, but the Hunters on the motorcycles were fearful that they might accidentally harm innocent humans, and eventually they lost contact with the SUV, which disappeared into the night.
Clayton was driving like a bat out of hell because that was essentially what he was—a Vampire bat from hell. He was laughing maniacally the whole time as he sped towards the river and the appointed meeting place. Once the motorcycles were out of view, Meat and Howard pulled themselves back inside of the vehicle through the windows and turned their attention to Preston’s wounded leg; Martin was gone.
“How are you?” Howard asked his teammate who was sitting next to him in the backseat, grimacing in pain.
“I think the bullet’s still in there,” Preston muttered. “It burns like hell.”
Howard knew that having a silver bullet lodged in his leg could kill him, but he didn’t know if he would be able to manage an extraction in the back of a moving vehicle. “How much longer until we reach the rendezvous?” he asked Clayton.
“About ten more minutes, tops,” Clayton replied, the grin still plastered on his face.
He annoyed the hell out of Howard, and that’s why he usually gave him a task where he wouldn’t have to spend too much time with him. Still, Clayton was a good shot, and a good driver. He was useful, even if he was one of the craziest Vampires Howard had ever met. Giovani might just take the cake on that one, though.
“Can you hold on ‘til then?” he asked. “Zabrina will be able to help you if you can just tough it out until we reach her.”
Preston nodded, but Howard could tell by his expression, he was beginning to fade. As the silver entered his veins, it would begin to spread through his body like a poison. Despite there being no blood to carry it, the substance would move quickly, and it would kill off the tissue as it went until there was nothing left but another pile of ash.
“Damn it,” Howard muttered. He reached into a pocket of the military vest he wore and pulled out a long, sharp piece of metal. He always carried this tool with him, just incase he needed it.
“Pull over,” he yelled at Clayton. They had reached the forested area near the river and would be hidden by the trees once Clayton took them off road. He protested at first, but another bark from the commander and Clayton brought the vehicle to a stop.
Howard was thankful for his thick gloves which would prevent him from
touching the silver himself. He swiveled Preston around so he could get to his leg. There was no need to turn a light on since he could see just as well in the dark. He stuck his fingers into the hole already formed by the bullet and ripped his pants open. The wound was charred and black and smelled of sulfur. The infection had already spread up his thigh and down his calf. Preston was breathing hard, and Meat turned around from his seat in the front and grasped his hand. Steadying himself, Howard took the tool and stuck it into the bullet hole. Preston shrieked in agony. Howard continued to probe the wound, searching endlessly for the bullet while Preston screamed. Pinning his leg down with his own, Howard attempted to keep his teammate from pulling away. Finally, after several minutes of searching, he located the bullet. Rather than attempting to pull it out through the hole where it had entered, he used the tip of the metal piece to push it through the back of Preston’s leg. It was the most efficient way to get it out, though it was excruciating. With one last shriek, Preston passed out, and Howard grabbed hold of the bullet and pulled it through the skin on the back of his leg, ripping the back of his pants to get it completely free.
He held it up for Meat to see and then opened the door and tossed it into the river. “Let’s go,” he said to Clayton as he slammed the door. Clayton didn’t hesitate and stepped on the gas, barreling through the trees as if he had driven through her thousands of times before.
Even though the bullet was out, Preston still did not look well, and Howard didn’t know if he would make it. The thought of losing two of his teammates infuriated him, and he hope that it would all be worth it. He was trusting Giovani with his entire operation. He’d better pull through.
As they approached the rendezvous spot, they saw the helicopter take off over the river. They couldn’t see the rest of their party, so they assumed they’d already made their way through the narrow passage that led to their hiding place. Clayton pulled to a stop. “I’ll let you guys out and then go hide the vehicle,” he said over his shoulder.