The Hunger

by Dandridge Doug

  Could she be coming out? he thought, watching the house as he circled through the air overhead. That was the only reason he could think of for all of the commotion down in the house. If it had been a simple execution of someone there would have been one shot. Or probably not a shot at all, as fragile mortals could be killed by many means. But more shots sounded as he listened.

  Or they might actually destroy her, he thought hopefully. He could feel her down there, the essence of her dark soul. It had been weak in the afternoon and the start of the evening, as if she was trapped and not allowed to feed. Then she had strengthened quickly, as if she had fed. But why would they feed her. It didn’t make sense. And why had she stayed in the house through the day, unless they had trapped her? And then why hadn’t they destroyed her?

  Unless someone wanted to be turned, he thought. And who would that be? He ran down the list of players that he knew of, and only one made sense. Padillas. George Padillas wanted to live forever. But doesn’t he know he would be a servant of his maker, for as long as she kept him on a tight leash. He must have known. So he would have ordered his men to kill her.

  The giant bat turned through the air, flapping its leathery wings. He bared his fangs in a display that would have been a smile if he were in human form. But they didn’t know that they had trapped a tiger. And she has made them pay for it.

  A trio of shots sounded, along with the shattering of glass. He waited a moment and then she flew through the window, coming gracefully to her feet. He was tempted to go down to her then, to attack while he had her in his sights and she was preoccupied. He fought off the urge. It would be better to wait until she was off by herself, where he wouldn’t give away his presence to the powers that be in the city.

  He nodded his approval as she tackled, fed on and killed the mortal that had fired at her. Then he frowned as the priest came out of the window and she came to his aid. That one is dangerous, and yet she saves him from the death he deserves. She has turned into a, what do they call it here, a Girl Scout.

  Marcus laughed at that thought as he watched her burst through the fence and help the priest through. A Girl Scout who must kill to survive. Not what I think the founders of the organization envisioned.

  He watched as she put the priest’s arm around her shoulder and helped him away from the fence. The strength in her, he thought. To withstand what the touch must be doing to her. A shame she must be destroyed. But she must, he thought, as he flapped off into the night to find a spot where he could confront her.

  * * *

  “We’ve got gunshots in the Padillas house,” said Tanesha Washington into the radio. Jeffrey DeFalco checked his weapon, then climbed out of the car.

  “I think it has to be our girl,” he said, looking over at the house. “Tell them to get over here with everything they can get their hands on.”

  DeFalco ran off toward the house, angling into the left hand neighbor’s yard. Washington followed him with her eyes as he disappeared into the shadows on the side of the neighbor’s house.

  “Dispatch here,” came the call over the radio. “We have units on the way there. First backup should be there in less than a minute.”

  Washington could hear the faint calls of blue and whites in the distance, getting closer with each wail of the high-pitched siren scream.

  “Wait till we get there, Washington,” came the voice of Detective Lieutenant Jamal Smith over the radio. “Don’t go near that house until you have backup on the scene.”

  “I’m sorry, lieutenant,” said Washington, making sure that her mobile repeater was linked to the car radio. “My partner went there and I’ve got to follow.”

  Washington pulled her gun and ran toward the yard where she had seen DeFalco disappear. Smith continued to yell in her ear bud as she ran. But she ignored him as she obeyed the number one rule of police work. Never leave your partner uncovered.

  * * *

  “Are you alright, Father,” said the vampire, looking at the face of the priest in the near total darkness. Her own vision saw him as a heat source. He seemed to be hotter than was normal for a human. She switched it to amplify the ambient light and looked over his face. He appeared to be pale, and she could hear his heart beating way too fast.

  “I’ll make it,” he said with a strained smile. “I don’t know what I’ll tell the Pope’s representatives, my helping a vampire and all.”

  “I’m still not sure why you did it,” she replied, pulling air into her nostrils to add her sense of smell to the mix.

  “I discovered that I was mistaken,” said the priest, taking in a deep breath to try and alleviate his fatigue. “I thought I was tracking the most evil creature in the world. Or at least a representative of them. And while I was in Padillas’ house I realized that the greatest representatives of evil were living members of my kind.”

  The priest shook his head for a minute, then reached up to wipe the sweat from his brow. He looked back at the vampire, his eyes wide.

  “You haven’t killed anyone who wasn’t evil themselves,” he said. “You always spare the innocents. And you go to great lengths to make sure the contagion of vampirism doesn’t spread behind you.”

  “I try,” she said, lifting his arm back over her shoulder despite the pain of contact. “I hate my own kind. Hate what I have become. But I don’t have the will to destroy myself, so I go on as best that I can.”

  “How did you get that way, my child?” asked the priest as he followed her lead, letting her guide him through the darkness of a large vacant block. “I have never heard of a vampire working for the forces of light. And you can’t withstand the symbols of light any more than any other of your brethren.”

  Lucinda hissed for a moment as the pain of touching the holy man ran up her arm, lodging in the center of her chest. She released him, and the priest stumbled for a moment.

  “It even hurts you to touch me,” he said, a look of concern on his face. “Yet you have ignored the pain and your own safety to lead me out of the lion’s den.”

  “I could not let you stay behind in that demon’s lair,” said Lucinda, “after you helped me to get out of there.”

  “And after I trapped you in the first place,” said the priest. “I’m surprised you didn’t just let me go to hell in that house.”

  “I couldn’t do that,” said the vampire. “It goes against my grain to leave a godly man in the hands of evil. Even if he does have a mistaken sense of duty. I….”

  Lucinda stopped talking as she felt the presence of evil enter the darkened vacant block. She looked around the lot, her eyes trying to pierce the darkness that seemed complete. Her hearing strained to pick up sounds, but except for some rodents and a stalking cat she could detect nothing. But her nostrils widened as she picked up the death like stench of her kind.

  “What is it?” asked the priest, his own eyes searching the darkness.

  “Quiet,” she hissed, holding up her hand, straining to pierce the darkness, to tell where her adversary was located. I could turn, she thought. Fly from this place and maybe lose him in the night. But what about the priest?

  “I hope you have some of those anti-vampire weapons on you,” she whispered to the priest. “Because in a moment you’re going to need them.”

  * * *

  Marcus had hoped that she would leave the mortal behind after she had gotten him out of the house. He should have figured that she would instead have played the Girl Scout and stayed with him until she was sure of his safety. Now he would have to destroy her and kill the priest. Not that he had anything against killing priests. But the killing of a public figure was never good for the kindred.

  He has sure knowledge of our kind, though, thought the elder vampire as he crept through the night. He is one of the loudest voices calling from the wilderness. His end will benefit us, as will hers.

  Marcus sniffed the air, a smile stretching his lips. There was a strong current of fear and panic coming from the house, wafting over his shoulder on the
night breeze. She had stirred a hornet’s nest tonight, and the bugs she hadn’t crushed were moving aimlessly about.

  They’ve stopped, he thought, feeling the presence of the pair in the open field across the road. Gathering the shadows about him like a cloak he flowed across the lighted street, a blot of darkness. He could feel a bit of hunger gnawing at the corner of his awareness. The elder vampire had used a lot of energy in the last two nights, and his body was calling for replenishment. He would use more energy before the night was over, but replenishment lay ahead as well, in the vital force of the priest.

  Marcus focused his awareness onto the mortal, smelling the blood that flowed through his body. Listening intently to the pulsing of his veins. The rasping of his breath through his bronchioles. The vampire bared his fangs at the thought of that life entering his own body. As the life of countless mortals before him. But first he had to kill the youngling that stood with him. He pulled his concentration from the mortal and opened his mind up to undead in the field.

  She knows I’m here. She isn’t sure where I am coming from, so she isn’t sure where to run. Marcus pulled himself into the shadows by a stand of trees, deepening their already dark, foreboding appearance. He could feel his own rising excitement at the stalk. The excitement that had made the millennia bearable.

  It’s time to get on with it, he thought, as he watched the priest sitting on the ground, trying to catch his breath. The female stood over him, her eyes darting around the field, trying to ferret out the threat that was coming for them.

  Marcus stepped out of the darkness, dispelling the shadows he had called up as well. He bared his fangs as he strode across the grass, heading straight toward the pair that looked over in alarm.

  * * *

  “Get behind me priest,” hissed Lucinda as she watched the smaller clump of shadows detach from the larger clump. The unnatural shadows flew into the night, and the short man stood out in the open. He showed his teeth in a grimace of menace then walked quickly toward the pair.

  “Can you take him,” asked O’Connor, coming to his feet.

  “Not in a million nights,” said the advancing vampire with a chuckle. “She might have the strength to, take me as you say, in a couple of thousand years, priest. But she will never last that long.”

  Lucinda bared her own fangs as she widened her stance, waiting for the elder vampire to come to her. As she blinked her eyes he was suddenly in front of her, his hands reaching out to grab at her shirt. She brought her own hands up in an inside out move that tried to push his hands away. And met what felt like immovable iron bars. Her hands rebounded off as the elder vampire grabbed the front of her shirt and jerked her into the air.

  “You should have known your place, Lucinda,” said Marcus, his red eyes burning through her will and into her soul. “You could have been among the best of us, in time. If you didn’t do everything you could to foil the plans of the master.”

  Marcus pulled her close to him then pushed her away, his great strength propelling her through the air. Lucinda landed heavily on her back, thirty feet away. She knew that if she had been mortal she would have been lying on the ground with a broken back. But she wasn’t mortal, and she jumped to her feet, hands at the ready to repel the elder vampire.

  Like I could stop him, she thought. The elder vampire stood where he had been, his eyes staring into hers. She glanced at the priest who was looking back and forth between her and the other demon. Marcus glanced his way for a moment, then turned his attention back to the younger vampire.

  Lucinda thought she would be ready when he started to move. But he was almost to her before she even noticed that he had started toward her. She brought up the unnatural speed of her kind, instantly slowing him down in her perception as she started to run toward him. She almost weighed as much as the ex-Legionnaire in life, and was certain that her momentum could knock him back as hard as she would be hit.

  She was wrong. The younger vampire hit the elder and immediately reversed her motion under the force of his charge. She was knocked back, flying through the air to hit a pine tree, wood splintering under the impact as she felt some of her own vertebrae snap, followed by several ribs and an arm.

  Lucinda looked around in panic. The bones were already starting to knit, but he was coming after her again. And she would not be able to defend herself in her present state. She raised her one good arm up and started to will on a change, hoping she could get away.

  “And what about the good Father,” said Marcus, stopping ten feet from her and staring into her eyes. “As soon as you take to the sky I will feed on him. It is always good in the eyes of the master to turn one of God’s servants to Lucifer’s cause.”

  “He is a holy man,” cried Lucinda. “Keep your filthy hands off of him.”

  “Then it is up to you to stop me,” said the elder vampire, showing her a baleful smile.

  Lucinda knew that he would kill her if she attacked him again. But if she let him kill O’Connor without a fight she would not be able to go on. So she couldn’t let it happen.

  She could feel that her arm had almost healed, and the ribs and back were only a little stiff now. And she felt weaker than she had. Some of the life force that was keeping her going had been used up in knitting the bones. She needed all of the strength she could muster to fight the demon in front of her.

  “Well, girl,” said Marcus, staring at her, beating her will down with his eyes. “Are you going to try and stop me or not. I will make him scream in terror before I tear his throat out. I will make him feel pain such as he had never imagined.”

  Lucinda sprang from the tree, her nails turned into talons, reaching for the throat of her tormentor. With a laugh Marcus reached up in a blur and grabbed her wrists. His grip dug into her flesh, and she could feel the bones of her wrists crack under the pressure. A scream rose in her throat. But the anger rising in her mind cut off the scream. She brought a foot up and kicked into the midsection of the elder vampire, pushing hard with her hips, as she had been taught during her short life. She twisted her wrists at the same moment, pulling away from Marcus. Marcus flew backward, his hands flailing as he tried to grab onto her, then falling back to stumble and land on his butt in the dirt.

  “Damn you, child,” he hissed as he sprang back to his feet. “You caught me off guard with that move, but it will not happen again. I was fighting battles thousands of years before your upstart nation even existed. A thousand years before the Buddhist Monks ever came up with the techniques you just used. And now I will teach you about combat.”

  Marcus moved, low to the ground in a fighter’s crouch. Lucinda threw a sidekick at the elder vampire. But Marcus knocked it aside with a sweep of his hand and moved in. His right fist dropped to his left side, then rose in a sweeping backhand that caught Lucinda in the jaw, knocking her head back.

  As she tried to pull herself back to awareness with her ears ringing the vampire grabbed her by the front of her shirt and pulled her close.

  “Now you end,” he said, staring into her face. “Now I will show you how we kill one of our own. I will drink your blood, and drink your life force from you. And leave your lifeless body here in this field, along with that of the Holy Man you have given your life for. Given your life in vain.”

  Lucinda struggled, trying to pull away, all thought of scientific fighting gone from her mind in the panic she felt. His grip was strong, and she felt like a child in the grasp of a strong adult as he pulled her close. Her arms bent as he brought his mouth down toward her neck. She felt the sharp tips of his teeth pressed against her flesh, then push through the skin.

  A thundering roar sounded in her ears and she felt the elder vampire jerk, then jerk again. He pulled his mouth from her neck, his eyes wide. She looked into the pain that shone in those eyes. Something thundered again, and she felt something pass through her own arm after exiting the body of the ancient monster. It burned like fire, tearing a hole in her arm. Then Marcus picked her from the ground and thre
w her back. Her back and her head hit again against the tree, cracking bone. She slid down on the trunk toward the ground, blackness reaching up and engulfing her. Her last thought as consciousness passed was that she had failed. She would die and the priest would die, and an ancient monster would continue to stalk the Earth, as a new monster was born.

  * * *

  Marcus felt the painful pellets passing through his body as the sound roared through his head. He jerked his teeth back as another pellet flew through his body, burning a path of agony. He threw the vampire child from him, hearing the crack of bone as she struck the tree, her eyes going blank before they closed and her body fell to the ground.

  Marcus turned toward the priest, his eyes taking in the form of the man, crouched into a shooter’s stance and the pistol in his hand pointed at Marcus.

  “Stay away from her, you hell spawn,” yelled the priest, his finger tightening on the trigger again.

  Marcus moved in a rush of speed, sidestepping in an instant as the bullet cracked from the gun and sped through the space he had just occupied. The priest turned and tried to line him up again, but Marcus moved out of the line of fire as the bullet passed him by. The elder vampire then ran at the priest, moving too fast for the eye to follow. As the man tightened his finger on the trigger once again Marcus reached for the gun. His fingers gripped over the hand and the slide of the gun, keeping the hammer from moving forward. He could feel the sting of touching the flesh of the holy man. But his powers were at their peak, and the master was with him this night.

  Marcus tightened his grip, listening as the priest cried out in pain. The fingers loosened and Marcus pulled the gun away, tossing it into the night. He stared into the priest’s eyes, reveling in the terror he saw there. His lips skinned back over his teeth in a feral grin.

  “Heavenly Father,” said the priest in a croak. “Be with me the night and protect me from evil.”

  “There is no protection for you priest,” said Marcus, grabbing the man’s other arm and holding him still. “In three unholy days you will rise as one of my kind. And your soul will be enslaved by the master, as you commit murder every night to feed your hunger.”