Chapter 7
Lucinda approached her house from the shadows, having walked in human form the four blocks from her landing spot. She moved slowly and quietly, all of her senses testing the night for traces of an enemy, human or otherwise. There were still hours to go before the dawn, so she felt no need to hurry. If the house wasn’t safe she would move to another.
Only one more spare, she thought, thinking of the overflight of the one the police were swarming over. She could rent some more, and move in a couple of coffins (which was always the tricky part) and set up the necessary safe houses to guard her existence. Or she could go ahead and take out her primary target, her reason for being in this city, and move on to another place.
But danger will always follow me, she thought, straining her hearing and sense of smell as she came within sight of her house. If it isn’t already in front of me, or beside me.
She shook her head. The house appeared to be clear. She moved to the front door and inserted her key, opening the lock.
But does it really matter, she thought again. Would it be so awful if I were destroyed, and end of this hellish existence? She thought again of the night, of the killing of a couple of dogs, followed by the death of a small time pimp down a scummy street. Again she had gotten rid of the body in the storm drains, though there was no flood this time to whisk it away. But rainstorms were a daily fact of life in this area, and she had no doubt that today’s showers would take the body to a place where it would be difficult to find.
She opened the door and moved into the house, opening the panel near the door and punching in the seven-digit code. The alarm system flashed off and reset itself to its secondary mode. Now it would no longer track motion within the house, but would still trigger if the doors or windows were opened. Lucinda locked the door, making sure that the deadbolt was secure. She then moved to all of the windows and doors, checking that they were secure.
Satisfied that everything was as it should be she plugged her laptop into the cable line and logged onto her Internet account. First she clicked onto the news link on her homepage, then on the headline that interested her most. As the page opened almost instantly she started scanning the print.
“Dammit,” she hissed as the words scrolled before her. She was being blamed for the murder of an innocent. She looked up again at the smiling picture of the plump-faced woman whose body had been found in the house Lucinda had been renting. I’m so glad I rented each and every location through a separate agency, so there’s nothing at her agency to trace me to somewhere I’m still using.
Lucinda thought for a moment about returning to the storm drains, or some other decrepit location where the normally curious would keep their noses clear. But going there made her feel even dirtier than she must. It was the habit of her real life to live in a nice house with all the trappings. And she still hoped to get out of this town within the next couple of days.
But how to get into the Padillas house, she thought, since he doesn’t seem to want to come out. At least at night.
She flipped through page after page of Internet files, looking for something that might get her into the house. The hour passed, then another half hour, as she strained her mind to come up with an answer. She could feel the dawn approaching, and with it her time to solve the problem.
Now this looks interesting, she thought as she scrolled to yet another site. This just might work. She filed the information away in her head as she disconnected from the Internet and shut the computer down.
She set up her primary means of defense, rigging the tear gas grenades to the doors and windows with the wire she had emplaced earlier. They would stop anyone who was human from coming into the house, and the noise and smoke might make a vampire back up for an instant. Beyond that, there was nothing much she could do to awaken herself in the early hours of the morning. Anyone who entered would do so while she slept the sleep of the dead. And she might awaken to the searing pain of a wooden stake plunging into her heart.
A human minion would solve that problem, she thought as she pulled down the attic stairs. But then I would be just like those I despise. She shook her head as she climbed the stairs. She quickly climbed into the coffin and triggered the remote for the alarm system, turning the motion sensors back on. Pulling the lid closed, she shut her eyes as she felt the sun peek over the horizon. The waves of weariness swept over her as she felt consciousness fade away.
* * *
Tashawn changed back to his human form in the shadows of the motel pool, reveling again in the power that his state of unlife gave him. Then his awareness of sunrise came over him, and he realized that he had less than twenty minutes to get into his resting place.
I actually thought I might have had her there for a moment, he thought, moving into the light and orienting himself to his room. He had soared over the downtown section of the city for hours, then headed out to the Bay front, where he had picked up a faint trace of her scent. Tashawn had even found the spot where she had fed this night, focusing in on the overpowering smell of human blood that filled the alley.
But she was long gone, and he couldn’t pick up a trail from that point, since she had taken to the sky as well. I’ll get you yet, bitch, he thought, raising a fist to the sky. He stopped for a second as he thought about the anger that still surged through him.
Hell, he thought, I’m ten times stronger than I was as a mortal. And I’ll live forever if nothing takes me out. So why am I so angry at her, when she did me a favor.
Tashawn saw the figure of a woman walk down the street at that moment, clear to his night vision as if it were day. He watched her ass move as she walked, and felt the lust come over him.
"God Dammit,” he said softly to himself as nothing stirred in his groin. He had loved sex. As much as he could get, with as many different women as he could get. And since he had become undead he had not had the merest physical stirring of desire.
That’s why I hate her, he thought, slamming a big hand into the other. She took so much away from me. And it’s not like she turned me out of the goodness of her heart. She was out to kill me, permanently. If she had her way I would have been a piece of dead meat on a slab. Then rotting away in the ground.
The awareness of the sun about to come over the horizon broke his thoughts. He hurried along, relief coming over him as he saw the Monte Carlo parked in front of the room. He was home, and would soon be at rest.
The voices alerted him to the intruders in the room. He stopped for a couple of seconds, honing in on the speech coming out of the chamber. Marvin, and two others.
“He has to be here soon,” said the female stranger. Tashawn looked again at the sky, where the high clouds were beginning to lighten.
“Unless he has someplace else to hold up during the dawn,” said the male stranger. Not likely, thought Tashawn, planning his next move. He could shelter in another room if he broke in quickly. But he would lose strength during the day because he had not slept in the soil of his own resting place.
“He’s going to fuck you up,” said Marvin, his voice cracking.
If it’s the priest there will be hell to pay, thought Tashawn, weighing his options. If it’s the police I go through them like shit through a goose.
“Oh shut up Marvin,” said the male voice. “I’m tired of hearing how Tashawn is going to destroy us.”
“It’s got to be close to dawn,” said the female voice. Tashawn saw that the high clouds were turning pink. He had to move soon or be destroyed.
His eyes landed on the compact car in a parking place across the narrow lot as he was searching for an out. Tashawn ran in speed mode toward the car, to his own perception running normally, though to the world at large it would appear as if he just popped into existence next to the vehicle.
Tashawn bent down to the side of the car and placed his hands underneath the side. The Rio weighed about a ton, and to his supernatural strength it was nothing to flip it over on its side. He cringed for a moment as some of the
windows cracked and metal bent, sounding like an explosion to his sensitive ears. He didn’t have time to waste, so he grabbed at the beams on the undercarriage and clamped his hands down hard.
Setting his powerful legs wide, Tashawn strained with his arms while pulling back. With a jerk of his arms he pulled the car off the ground, raising it to his chest and overhead so quickly that the weight of the car didn’t have a chance to pull him off balance. As a Defensive End Tashawn had jerked and pressed four hundred pounds during strength trails. As a vampire Tashawn could lift ten times that weight, and the car went easily overhead.
Making sure he had his balance, Tashawn started walking across the lot toward his room. People had come out of other rooms at the noise of the car being flipped and manhandled, and several people shouted or gasped as they saw the huge man with a car held over his head move across the parking lot. The noise quieted as people realized that they did not want to attract the attention of someone doing the impossible task they saw.
The door to his room opened and a white man looked out, shouting as he saw the man and car coming at him. He started to reach into his jacket, grasping the butt of pistol and trying to get it out of his holster.
Tashawn exploded into action, speeding up until he was running quickly at the room. He saw the gun coming out and the man raised it in the vampire’s direction. Tashawn moved his arms forward and released, sending the car flying through the air at the room.
The man fell back into the room as the car hit to the door side of the big front window of the room. With a crash of metal and cracking concrete block the car broke through the window and the section of wall between window and door. Meeting less resistance at the window than the wall, the car started to turn to its side as it flew through.
Tashawn heard the screams and the yells in the room, then a choking gurgle. The sound of breaking furniture and smashing glass came out of the room as the car continued on to hit the far wall. It had lost enough momentum to only crack the concrete block, then fall to the floor.
Damn, thought Tashawn as he moved toward the door in a quick run. Now what the fuck do I do? He had to get under cover and into the makeshift coffin. But now the police would come here to his resting place, while he was asleep. Tashawn cursed himself again, and his tendency to act without thinking.
What choice did I have, he thought as he hit the door with both fists, knocking it off of its hinges and into the room. Have to play dead and hope the police that come don’t know anything about vampires. They might think he was truly dead, and transport him in a body bag to the morgue, after he had spent the necessary hours in resting on the soil. Then he could wake in the morgue and go from there.
Tashawn looked into the room, his sight falling on what was left of Marvin, sitting in a chair, his head gone where the passing car had taken it off. Marvin had been his friend, and his daytime helper. And because of the interference of the pigs he was dead.
“Motherfucker,” said Tashawn, as he balled his fists and walked into the motel room. He would kill the motherfuckers who had forced him to do this. He would kill them in a way that would horrify the police that would come later. First he looked down on the white man in the suit, lying unmoving on the floor by the bed. Then he saw the black bitch with blood on her scalp, struggling to her knees, pulling a pistol from her waistband.
“Fucking nigger bitch,” growled Tashawn, stepping over the rubble of broken concrete blocks. She had the pistol pointing at him and it started barking, flame shooting from the muzzle. To Tashawn it felt as if something unreal passed through his body, almost an illusion. But he heard the bullets striking concrete and ricocheting off. “I’m gonna stick that pistol up your ass and see if you like it.”
The woman’s mouth opened in a scream as the big man towered over her, reaching his hands down to grasp her wrists and jerk her to her feet. As he squeezed the gun fell out of her hand and clatter to the floor. Tashawn bared his fangs and lunged toward her throat.
* * *
DeFalco felt the shock start to overwhelm him as the giant of a man came toward him, holding an entire car over his head. To the credit of his training he did not succumb to the shock, and tried to get his pistol out and to bear before the creature could throw the car. It wasn’t his fault that the thing sped up and flung the ton of metal through the wall of the motel room.
DeFalco had back stepped into the room before the vampire had released the car. He ducked down by the bed, hoping that the car would miss him, and knowing that he had no control over where it was going to hit. He could be crushed in a second.
The thoughts were thrust from his mind as the window smashed in and the block wall between the window and door shattered into pieces of concrete and dust. The rear of the car spun around in the window. Marvin tried to move back, but the handcuffs restricted the motion and he couldn't push the chair back in time. A rear tire struck his head from below his chin on up, and carried his head away with it. The body jerked in the chair, blood spurting from the severed neck.
DeFalco closed his eyes for a second to keep the dust from blinding him. The noise beat down on his ears and deafened him for a moment. He lay on the floor, trying to will his body to get up, as he faintly heard the car hitting the far wall and fall to the floor. The bed he was laying against collapsed under the weight of the car, and the bed frame pushed into his back. Pain shot up from his lumbar region.
The FBI Agent could feel the footsteps of the huge man through the floor. He knew the man was standing over him, but he was unable to rise and defend himself. His system was in shock, and his limbs felt leaden. The footsteps moved on and he knew that he was safe, for the moment.
DeFalco cursed himself for his cowardly immobility, even as he realized that the vampire was having a supernatural effect on him that no mortal could ignore. But he could resist, and he fought to will his limbs to move. His head rose off the ground as the shots rang out. The supersonic crack of bullets sounded above him, followed quickly by the whine of their ricochet off the wall. One round smacked into the bed behind him, another into the carpeted floor by his side.
The vampire was standing over Washington as she tried to stop him with her useless pistol. DeFalco rose to his hands as knees as the vampire reached out and grabbed her wrists. As her gun fell to the floor he picked his up and rose to a kneeling position on the floor. He brought the pistol full extension in a two handed grip as the vampire’s head shot toward Washington’s neck.
I can’t miss, he thought, as he aimed carefully, holding half a breath as he squeezed the trigger. The gun bucked in his hand as he sent the .40 caliber round toward Tashawn’s left shoulder, the one that cleared the form of Tanesha Washington. Tashawn jerked as the bullet struck his shoulder, splattering blood over his shirt and the ceiling. The bullet sprung from the front of his shoulder and smacked into the wall beyond.
The vampire threw Washington to the floor as he spun around, pain, fear and anger on his face. His red eyes burned into the eyes of DeFalco, trying to push his will aside and make him lower the gun. DeFalco squeezed off another round, his aim off slightly, fighting to keep his focus. The bullet smacked into Tashawn's lower right ribs, and not the heart as DeFalco had intended. The big vampire staggered, then looked at DeFalco as the Agent came to his feet. Confusion was written on the giant’s face as his hand went to his side and came away bloody.
“Special bullets,” said DeFalco, grinning at the vampire. “Silver, with crosses worked into their points. Soaked in Holy Water overnight and blessed by a priest. I know it sounds like overkill, but I wasn’t about to take chances.”
“Motherfucker,” yelled the vampire. He started to move toward the agent, a lunging reach across the room.
DeFalco squeezed off a pair of shots, one hitting Tashawn in the right thigh, another higher up near the groin. The vampire staggered to a halt, his face showing his shock.
“I guess the sun is up, Tashawn,” said DeFalco calmly, feeling the weakness in the creature before him
. “None of that super speed shit now.” DeFalco waved the gun, bringing it to point at the vampire’s face. “Why don’t you tell me about this master you’re serving?”
“What the fuck you talking about?” said Tashawn, his eyes darting to the window where the parking lot was brightly lit.
“Come on Tashawn,” said DeFalco. “Marvin told us all about him. So you can come clean and I might let you survive.”
“You’re full of shit, pig,” said the giant, shaking his head. “You ain’t gonna let me survive, knowing what I am. What you gonna do? Bring me victims every night in jail? Or let me pick out my own from the inmates?”
“You got me there, Tashawn,” said the FBI Agent, steadying his gun. “Yeah, I can’t let you take more life.”
The vampire went into a crouch, and DeFalco knew that in an instant the big man would be flying toward him in a tackle. He brought the gun down quickly and squeezed off three shots. The first hit the vampire in the upper right chest, the second in the side of the neck, and the third just below his nose.
The vampire reeled back, a roaring scream coming from his lips through the blood pouring from his face. His face took on the look of a panicked animal, looking for a way out of an impossible situation. And like some animals he moved without thinking, out the window, to escape the death in front of him.
DeFalco ran to the window in a couple of steps as the roar turned to a high-pitched squeal. His eyes went wide as he stared at the horrible sight of Tashawn kneeling on the asphalt of the parking lot, smoke streaming from his body as the dawn light shone down on him. The screaming continued as the vampire burst into flame. The limbs moved spasmodically as the face screamed to the sky. Skin blackened and then turned to ash, and the man writhed in agony.
DeFalco raised his gun one more time, taking careful aim, then squeezing off the shot. The bullet blasted through the back of Tashawn’s skull, exited through the forehead in a spray of smoking brains. The vampire went limp with the destruction of his brain, falling flat on his face on the asphalt. The skin continued to burn as DeFalco looked on, coughing at the odor of burning human flesh. Within moments the skin and muscle were completely ashed, the bones exposed to the brightening sunlight.
The Hunger Page 18