by Justin Sloan
At least she had kind of planned on dying that night—though a fake death would have been preferable to real.
The attacker’s sword flashed and she threw herself backwards, just out of reach, and fell off of the waist-high ledge. Jackson opened up on the man, shooting with everything he had, but they had set up the rifles with regular bullets. Enough to draw blood and make the death appear real, but nothing in terms of doing real harm to a vampire if aimed correctly.
Still, Jackson knew what he was doing.
Several shots hit the attacker in the throat and he stepped back, distracted long enough for Valerie to go on the offensive.
Now was not the time to draw it out, or even to give him a second chance. Instead of going for the sword, she pushed out with her fear at the same time as she swung her arm in a wild haymaker, all her weight behind it, right for his head.
With the bullet holes already making the neck weak, her strike hit and power surging through her, she knocked the head clear off the body. She fell over with him, then glanced up to see Jackson leap onto the ledge, looking down at them.
She had to act fast, so immediately started undressing.
“Are you okay?” he hissed.
“Shoot at the ground,” she replied.
“What?”
“Just do it!”
As he did, she wrapped the coat on the body, then put the pants on him. They were tight, but he was a skinny guy, and fit. She shifted to vampire speed, used the sword to hack at her hair, just the back.
“You’re nuts,” Jackson hissed.
“Turn around and repeat after me,” she said as she dipped the hair in the guy’s blood, removed his face-mask, and plastered the hair to his own. It would hold, at least for a moment or two. “She is dead, I have killed her. Oh, and grab this.” She held up the sword, then added, “And this.” Now she held up the head. “Get your guys up here to get rid of the body before people start asking questions.”
Jackson looked like he was about to be sick, but he caught on fast.
“You know you’re a little screwy in the head, right?”
“No,” she held out the head, “I have no head. Go, before they wonder.”
Jackson slung his rifle over his shoulder and jumped down, then took the sword and, with a cringe, the head. He turned around, stepped back up to the ledge, and held them high.
“She is dead!”
Valerie took that moment, relying on the hand-wavy fact that everyone was staring at the head that, as long as it stayed in the shadows, was hers. Pushing her vampire speed to its max, she darted around the building and out of sight, sticking to the shadows, and made her way back to the rear door of Sandra’s café.
Desperately searching, she moved about the back room, then froze at a click.
She turned and breathed out—not a gun, just the door. Sandra stood there looking terrified, but the expression soon melted to relief as she ran forward and hugged Valerie. Then she hit her. And hit her again.
“You jerk!” she said. “You stupid table-licking bitch!”
“You knew about the plan!” Valerie said, holding her hands up in surrender.
“Not that it was going to be on the same night as my party.”
“Yeah, that part—”
“And not the part about the damn ninjas or whatever the hell they were!”
“Actually…” Valerie shrugged. “You and me both on that one.”
Sandra looked more relieved at that. “Oh, good… I shot one, and then started worrying that they were in on the plan. Well, dammit, what now?”
Valerie gestured to the fact that she wasn’t wearing any pants. “This isn’t very incognito, considering I’m supposed to be dead now.”
“Ah, yes, your shopping bags.” Sandra grabbed them from under the washing table, and tossed Valerie a new pair of jeans and a hoody. “We’re leaving tonight, I suppose?”
Valerie shook her head. “If any more of them are around, they’ll be looking for us to move at night. We stay low. They were after me, not trying to cause more trouble.”
“Don’t worry about them,” another voice said, and they jumped at the sight of Diego. “We got one more, but the one with the throat clawed out escaped. I tried to chase him, but even like that, he was too fast. I think he’s leaving the city though. Realized he bit off more than he could chew.”
“And Jackson?” Valerie asked.
“They’re moving the body now,” he said. "Threw his jacket over it, so I don’t think we have anything to worry about.”
“But they would’ve seen the other vampire attacking you, right?” Sandra asked.
“I think Jackson thought of that.” Diego smiled. “I saw his people carrying away a second body in dark clothes. I imagine one of them just lay down when they got back there, and they figured he could pass until they were out of the square.”
“In a way,” Valerie beamed, “my plan went even better than planned. I mean, we had a head.”
She turned to pick up the bag of clothes, and when she stood again she saw Diego cringing.
“Oh, the hair?” She shrugged. “It’ll grow back. And since I won’t be seeing Jackson again anytime soon anyway, who cares.”
“Me for one,” he said. “I’ll have to see that mess every day that we’re out there walking together.”
“Plus, what if it doesn’t?” Sandra reached out and touched it. “What if your flesh heals real fast, but your hair never does?”
She swatted Sandra’s hand aside. “Shut up. Are you two ready?”
“Where are we lying low?”
“I found a place, at the outskirts of the city. Our bags, food, and everything else we need will be there, ready.”
“This is really it then?” Diego shook his head, whether in disbelief or trying to clear the alcohol, Valerie couldn’t be sure.
“Let’s make those CEOs regret ever stepping foot in this city.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Jackson’s Restaurant
The men entered behind Jackson, and the four with vampire blood either on their hands or clothes went to the bathroom or kitchen to get cleaned up.
“How the hell did they get here?” Jackson asked, spinning on them.
Baxter, the large bartender, was one of the few still there. They had figured he could serve as both muscle and screen—with his large frame in the way, it would be harder for the crowds to see who they were carrying.
He was shaking his head and said, “Could they’ve been local Forsaken?”
Old man Talden scoffed as he approached the bar. “Don’t tell me you didn’t see what they were wearing.”
“Looked like ninjas.”
“No, I get him,” Jackson said, catching on. “It wasn’t to go unrecognized, because we got a look at those faces and they aren’t from around here. They wore those outfits to block out the sun.”
“Does that work?” Baxter asked in amazement. “Couldn’t any vampire just walk around like that then?”
“They’d look like a bunch of ninjas or lepers, but sure. Only problem is if a single bit of clothing moves, they’re going to be in a world of pain. Get their clothes torn in a fight? Not so good either.”
“I’m willing to bet they carried some means of shelter with them,” Talden said. “As long as those UV rays don’t get through, they’re safe.”
“It’s still risky,” Jackson said. “Depending on how far they came. But if they were here to kill Valerie, which I think we can all agree was their purpose, then I think we can safely assume the CEOs sent them.”
“Damn, so we’ve got the CEOs sending assassins all the way from Chicago?” Baxter poured three glasses of whiskey, handing one to Talden and one to Jackson. He nodded to the other three men and two women. “You want something? Help yourself.”
“Not necessarily Chicago.” Jackson grabbed his glass and took a long sip. He set it back down and licked his lips. “Damn, that’s good stuff. Point is, we don’t know how far the reach of the three ami
gos is right now, so they could’ve come from anywhere, within reason.”
“You don’t think they’re from Japan?” Baxter asked. “Like actual ninjas?”
Talden laughed at that. “Don’t hurt your brain there. They weren’t Japanese, first of all. Second, how would the CEOs have gotten a message out to them so fast?”
“So somewhere near Chicago then?” Baxter said, ignoring the old man’s insult.
“Likely.”
“I guess it doesn’t really matter,” Jackson said, and turned to nod at the returning men. “What we need to be focusing on now is ensuring the story sticks, and then seeing if we can get a meeting with Morgan. This city must find peace.”
“If she believes you killed Valerie, she’ll shake,” Talden said. “I know her well enough for that. It’s what she split over, after all. Just get your story straight, and we’re good to go.”
Jackson nodded, hoping it was true.
“That, and figure out who killed the rest of your men,” a new voice said. They all turned to see Royland standing in the doorway with Cammie at his side. “Those men in the alley.”
Jackson frowned. “What’re you talking about?”
Cammie pushed past him and motioned to the alley behind them. Several Weres were with them, laying down the bodies that had been in the alley. Jackson felt his blood boiling, his fingers moving involuntarily.
“The gunshots we heard at the party?” he asked.
“Someone else made a move, and we don’t think it could be the same vampires.”
“This is one messed up night,” Jackson said.
“Do we need Valerie on this?” Baxter asked.
Jackson shook his head. “She’s already gone. She trusted us with this, so we’re going to deal with it. But where to start.” He took the drink again and finished it off, but as soon as he pulled the glass from his lips, he knew it.
“Dammit, who was in the alley? I heard some of the cops repeating who they’d found.”
“Peterson,” Baxter said.
“We have to check with Wallace to ensure he still has Ella locked up.”
“I’m on it,” Cammie said, and she went back into the alley, motioned to several of her Weres, and they were off.
Enforcer HQ
Wallace lingered at the door to Ella’s cell, wanting nothing more than to talk to her. She had betrayed them all, sure, but if she wanted to become a productive member of society, he wasn’t going to fight that.
The question was, could she be trusted?
He threw his head back against the door in frustration, then heard the door click and felt it give.
“It’s unlocked,” Ella said from inside as the door opened the rest of the way.
He looked up and saw her, on the bed, leaning against the wall as if she couldn’t care in the slightest that it was a prison of sorts. A prison with unlocked doors, apparently.
“You’ve got something on your mind?” she asked.
He opened the door and the two held eye contact. After a moment, he shook his head and said, “Did you know about this?”
“What?”
“I recognized them, Ella. I had to know, so came back without telling anyone. They were Jackson’s men, and if you had anything to do with this… it’s not gonna fly.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Ella, this is me.” He stared at her from the doorway for a long while, debating how to play this, then entered and sat down on the bed beside her. Taking her hand in his, pausing only slightly at the warmth of her touch, a warmth he missed so much, he said, “If you had the chance to run away from all this, would you?”
“If I wanted to escape, I would’ve. I choose my timing.”
“I mean with me. The two of us.” He squeezed her hand, held it to his lips, breathing her in. With a kiss to the back of her hand, he said, “We could start over.”
She looked at him with a wistful smile. “My dear, I’ve already started over.”
He stared back in confusion, until her eyes moved past him and he turned to see that, behind the door, hidden in the shadows, was another man. The form stepped forward and he looked between the two. “Peterson?”
“I couldn’t leave my sister locked up,” he said. “Blood knows no bounds, isn’t that how the saying goes?”
“I’ve never heard that saying, and if so, it’s stupid.” Wallace dropped Ella’s hand, suddenly feeling less touchy-feely. “You two…?”
“We’re above this,” Peterson said. “All your bull. Shit, I heard about what happened. With Valerie dead, you all don’t stand a chance.”
Wallace, bit his lip. He wanted so bad to tell them how full of it they were, that Valerie had faked her own death and that, as much as they thought he was being had, so were they.
But instead he simply stood and walked over to his former partner.
“It’s done, Wallace,” Peterson said, pulling a pistol from his side holster.
Wallace didn’t wait for the threat. He decked him, and when he fell to the floor, Wallace turned to confront Ella—only to find a baton cracking his skull, and then it was all red and black.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Outside Old New York
As the first rays of sunlight lit the bridge leading west from Old Manhattan, Valerie stepped off of it with Sandra and Diego in tow. They all wore packs, the majority of the heavy stuff in Valerie’s pack, and then Diego’s. Sandra had insisted that she not be treated as less of a member of the team just because she wasn’t modified, so carried a pack with mostly food and other supplies.
While the other two had checked their supplies and then repacked them, Valerie had spent the early morning hours digging into her wounds for the two silver bullets that had penetrated her flesh. At one point, Diego had to try to hold her down and help pull the bullet out, though she had sent him flying into the far wall when the pain had become unbearable.
In the end they had managed though, and Valerie had stitched herself up. As much as she hated to use some of the blood this early in the trip, she took a couple sips from one of the four vials she had brought, just to help the healing process.
Pain was her worst enemy, and right now that pain seemed to be winning. The knowledge that it would soon heal and be over with, though, helped her push on.
She had no doubts whether leaving was the right choice or not, but that didn’t mean it felt good. Her friends were there, her more than friends, and a whole city she had sworn to protect. A bigger part of her thought that if she let the CEOs continue unchecked, their reach could extend far and the city would never be at peace.
The vampires who had attacked her in the night were undoubtedly sent by the CEOs, and these assassins were good. Nothing could stand against Valerie, not as far as she knew, outside of Michael, Akio, and Yuko. Still, if this Black Plague was made up of more like them? A lot more? That could mean trouble.
Trouble she would have to put a stop to.
“Keep us on track,” Valerie said over her shoulder.
“Due west,” Sandra said, holding up a creased and folded paper, the map, one of several sketched out ones that they had found in Commander Strake’s old papers. It wasn’t perfect, but clearly the Enforcers had mercenaries out mapping their progress as they explored and set up defensive outposts. The best they figured, the CEOs had plans for expanding at some point. Domination of America, perhaps?
Valerie slowed and glanced over her shoulder at the map. It showed a series of large lakes and, as best they could figure, Chicago was somewhere along those lakes. They had their destination, but not any great way of getting there other than their legs.
“Why couldn’t we just take one of those hover car thingies?” Diego asked.
“The police pods?” Sandra asked. “Because they belong to the cops, of course.”
“That, and the fact that we don’t want to be seen coming,” Valerie added. “If they have anyone else lingering, they might have spotted us leaving, but I doubt i
t. A pod heading out west is a bit more noticeable.”
Diego grunted and continued walking on. They trudged in silence, and the sun rose above, soon making it annoyingly unpleasant.
A glance back showed it was much harder on Sandra. The fact that they would be eating mostly jerky and crackers, and that the walk was expected to take somewhere between a couple of weeks to a month, didn’t lift Valerie’s spirits much.
Still, it wasn’t until around mid-afternoon that Sandra spoke up, saying she needed a break.
“What worries you most?” Diego asked.
When both women glared at him, he said, “I’m just saying… I don’t worry about bears or mountain lions or whatever, I mean, we’re used to that. But have either of you ever dealt with a skunk?”
“The hell’s that?” Sandra asked. “Can we eat it?”
“Yeah, maybe. But if it sees you coming, you’ll be stinking so bad we’ll have to make you walk a mile behind us.”
“Haha,” she said, rolling her eyes. “You know what scares me? Mosquitoes. That and getting lost. Can you imagine just wandering around here forever until we just die from exhaustion?”
“Or boredom,” Valerie chimed in, pausing to check her wounds. To her surprise and relief, they were healing nicely.
The other two turned to her, and Sandra raised an eyebrow and said, “Boredom?”
Valerie shrugged. “When you feel like you could live forever, the idea of boredom seems a lot scarier than anything else.”
They continued to stare, until finally Sandra started laughing. Soon Diego joined in.
“Did I miss something?” Valerie asked.
“Are you serious?” Sandra stood, hands in the air. “We live in a world that was destroyed by nukes or whatever the hell happened, where vampires and Weres roam the earth, where men and women kill like it’s fun, and for some of them it is, and here you are worried about boredom?”
“It’s too good,” Diego added, wiping a laughing-tear from his eye.