Jessica thought of a dozen responses, all of them smart-ass comebacks that only would get here into more trouble. At a momentary loss for words, all she could say was, “Sorry.”
“No need to apologize, ma’am. You were just doing your job. As I’m doing mine.” Wilson removed his citation book from his back pocket. “By the way, did you know your license expired two months ago? Please turn around and place both hands on the bed of the truck.”
The situation had just gone into full FUBAR mode.
Marlowe struggled up the tunnel, finding it difficult to maintain his footing because of the moisture that covered the walls. It had taken him almost ten minutes, and he was still a few feet from the top. Even worse, the higher he climbed the stronger the stench became. His eyes watered and his stomach threatened to heave from the intensity. He fought back the urge to vomit, not wanting to climb back down through his own puke.
“Everything okay?” Patterson called out from below.
“I’m almost there. But this thing is slippery as hell. Coming down is gonna be a bitch.”
“Forget it, then. We’ll note what we found in the log and check it out later.”
“I came this far. Hang on.”
Reaching the top, Marlowe made certain of his footing and hoisted himself so his upper body extended over the edge. He turned his head to the left, letting the beam from the hard hat’s flashlight fall on the opposite wall.
Several desiccated bodies in various stages of decomposition littered the floor. The corpses swarmed with large, reddish-brown cockroaches. To his right, near the edge of the tunnel, lay a body no more than a couple of days old. Its neck had been torn open, allowing the body to bleed out. Swollen by internal gas, the abdomen had burst, draining a steady stream of fluid that flowed into the tunnel, which explained it being so slippery. Maggots churned through the organs, devouring the decaying remains.
Marlow swallowed back the vomit rising in his throat.
“What do you see?” called Patterson.
“Jesus, man. This place is a charnel house. There’s half a dozen corpses up here. Looks like junkies have been using this place as a drug house, and several of them OD’d. One of them looks like he’s been dead only a few—”
A noise to his rear caught Marlowe’s attention. He spun his head around. The light shone on someone crouched behind him near the edge of the tunnel. The person kept their head lowered, so Marlowe could not see the face. It had a ghastly pallid color. Probably some junkie on an extended high who hadn’t seen the light of day in weeks.
“Hey, buddy. What the fuck’s going o—”
The thing looked up, glaring at Marlowe with a face that was not human. The eyes glowed at him from sunken sockets, the blood-red irises surrounded by sickeningly yellow pupils. Black matted hair hung over a slightly-protruding and deeply-furrowed forehead. The shriveled lips pulled back to reveal stained, two-inch-long fangs. A guttural snarl emanated from its throat.
Marlowe started to scream when the thing lunged, plunging its fangs into his throat.
Patterson heard Marlowe talking, followed by a blood-curdling scream. He directed his flashlight up the tunnel.
“Ted, are you all right?”
No answer. In the dim light, Patterson could see his friend thrashing.
“Hang on. I’m coming up.”
He had no idea how, though. Patterson was looking for something to climb onto when he heard the dull thud of a body hitting concrete. He looked up to see Marlowe sliding down the tunnel. Patterson jumped aside a split second before Marlowe tumbled out and crashed onto the sewer floor. Patterson bent over to check on him. Part of Marlowe’s spinal column protruded through a mass of torn flesh and tissue where his head used to be. As Patterson stared in shock and disbelief, something rolled out of the tunnel and dropped beside him. Marlowe’s head stared up at him, its eyes glazed and frozen in terror.
Movement from inside the tunnel caught Patterson’s attention. He looked up to see three things scurrying down toward him, head first. Through the minimal light from the flashlight, all he could make out were fangs and glowing red eyes. Whatever these things were, they were not human. He did not intend to stick around long enough to find out.
Leaving his dead friend behind, Patterson headed back the way he came, running as fast as his two hundred and fifty pound bulk would carry him.
Marlowe’s scream reached the hunters. Drake and Alison had heard that anguished cry before. Too many times. They instantly knew what it meant: someone had found the nest, and paid for that discovery with his life. Without saying a word, the hunters ran toward the scream.
They had covered ten yards when they nearly collided with a large man in a sewer worker’s uniform coming in the other direction.
“Run,” Patterson panted, gasping for breath. “They’re right… behind me.”
The sound of approaching vampires drew close. Drake could tell by the snarls that these things were hungry, which boded ill.
“How many?” Drake asked.
“Fuck that,” said Patterson. “We gotta—”
“How many?” Drake asked again, more forcibly this time.
“Three.”
“Jim, take him back to the pick-up. We’ll hold them off as long as possible.”
“No arguments here.” Jim pushed Patterson in the direction they had just come from. “Move!”
As the other two beat a hasty retreat, Drake unholstered his Glocks and Alison raised the shotgun into firing position.
They did not have long to wait.
The three vampires lunged out of the darkness, their hideous features barely distinguishable in the light from the weapons-mounted flashlights. Drake and Alison waited until they closed to within ten feet before firing.
The first round of buckshot tore a massive hole in the lead vampire’s chest and stopped it in its tracks. Alison chambered a second round and fired again, knocking the vampire into the second one in line. They lay in a writhing heap. Alison pumped two more rounds into the mass of undead.
Drake fired three rounds from each Glock into the third vampire as it jumped over its fallen brethren. Each .40 caliber round punched large holes into its chest, knocking it to the sewer floor. Then the holy water began to seep into the wounds. The vampire thrashed around in agony. Drake fired four more rounds into it. The vampire arched its body in pain, rolled onto its hands and knees, and scurried back down the sewer. Drake fired at its back until the chambers of both Glocks locked open. He ejected the empty magazines and quickly reloaded.
Untangling itself from its wounded brethren, the second vampire lunged at Alison. She aimed the shotgun at its chest. Before she could fire, it sprang onto the ceiling, crawled over her head, and dropped to the ground behind her. Alison spun around to shoot, but it raced away.
“It’s going after Jim,” she warned.
“Look out!”
Alison turned back just as the first vampire sprang at her. She raised the shotgun and fired. The vampire’s head exploded. Blood gushed from its neck, splattering the hunters and the sewer walls. It disintegrated in mid-lunge, showering Alison in ash and momentarily blinding her.
Drake finished reloading and chambered a round in each Glock. He heard the vampire that had retreated approaching for another attack.
“Let’s get out of here.”
Alison shook her head to clear away the ash. “Roger that.”
“And keep your eyes open in case that other one decides to backtrack on us.”
Alison led the way back down the storm drain line, with Drake glancing over his shoulder every few seconds to check on their pursuer. On his third look, he saw the vampire closing to within ten feet. Drake stopped and spun around, firing eight rounds into its chest. All eight found their mark, ripping chunks out of the vampire’s torso until Drake could see through its abdomen. The vampire faltered. It leaned against the wall, grimacing in pain. Then it came for them again, only much slower.
Alison reached the inte
rsection with the sanitation line and turned right, heading toward the Ram. Drake stopped her and motioned in the other direction. “This way. I want to lead it away from the others.”
“You’re the boss.”
Drake shot a quick look down the branch line and saw the vampire still limping after them.
Jim and Patterson reached the access ladder that led up to Jessica. Patterson fell back against the wall, gasping. His chest heaved as he struggled for air. His shirt clung to his body, drenched in sweat. Jim thought he might have a coronary right there in the sewer.
“Leave me here… kid… and save… yourself.”
“No way. We’re almost there.”
Patterson looked at the ladder, and dejection washed over his face. “There’s no way… I’m making it… up there.”
Jim heard something approaching from down the sewer. “It’s only a fifteen-foot climb to safety. Or would you rather end up like your friend?”
That galvanized Patterson. He climbed up onto the landing and scaled the rungs. Jim followed right behind. Patterson moved excruciatingly slow, the combination of his weight and his fear making the climb more difficult than usual. Jim wanted to yell at him to move his fat ass, but reasoned making him nervous would not help the situation. Instead, every few seconds he checked the landing to see if the vampire had found them.
They had almost reached the top when Patterson stopped.
“Keep going,” ordered Jim. “We’re almost there.”
“I can’t. Some asshole parked their car over the manhole.” Patterson reached up and banged the underside of the car. “Hey, move this fuckin’ thing!”
Jim looked down again just as a vampire stuck its head up the access tunnel. It flashed a sardonic grin. With the deliberate slowness of a hunter stalking its prey, it crawled onto the landing and slowly climbed the ladder. Reaching into the bag, Jim pressed the five-second-delay detonator cap on one of the bottles of Heaven’s Fire. Sliding the bag off of his shoulder, he dangled it over the access tunnel and dropped it.
Realizing what was about to happen, the vampire let go of the rungs, dropped to the landing, and rolled off into the sewer just as the bag crashed onto the cement. The twin bottles burst. A second later, the detonator cap exploded, igniting the home-made napalm. A blast of hot air shot up the tunnel, followed by a mushroom cloud of smoke, forcing Jim to turn away.
When Jim looked down, he saw the landing awash in flames. Beyond the flames, crouching in the sewer and waiting to pounce, sat the vampire.
“Any luck moving that car?”
“No.” Patterson looked down the tunnel at the flames. “What the fuck are you doing?”
“Buying us some time.”
But not enough. The gasoline-detergent mixture burned itself out enough that the flames no longer posed a threat. With an animalistic snarl, the vampire jumped from the sewer onto the landing and began climbing.
Jessica stood with her hands against the bed of the Ram. She wanted to tell Wilson where he could put his citation book, but knew that doing so would only make things worse. In the past ten minutes he had written her up for illegal parking, driving with an expired license, and failure to have proper registration with the vehicle. She half expected him to smash the headlights with his nightstick then cite her for that. Wilson was in the process of writing her up for some other nonsensical infraction when Jessica heard a commotion from under the squad car. Bending slightly, she saw the top of someone’s head sticking out of the open manhole. The person reached up and banged on the underside of the squad car.
“Hey, move this fuckin’ thing!”
Wilson turned to Jessica, his eyes narrow with anger. “What did you say?”
“That wasn’t me.”
Wilson stared at Jessica, not certain whether to believe her, then looked around the area.
The muffled sound of a small explosion came from underneath the squad car. Seconds later, black smoke poured from underneath the chassis and billowed up the sides. Wilson dropped the citation book and stepped back.
“What the fuck?”
“You have to move your car off the manhole,” said Jessica.
“No way, lady. It’s on fire.”
“No it’s not. The fire’s coming from inside the sewer.”
“How do you know that?” Wilson’s hand moved toward his service revolver as he stared at the smoke coming from underneath his squad car.
Jessica did not have time to argue. She took a step toward Wilson and called his name. When he turned in her direction, she kicked him as hard as she could in the balls. Wilson’s cry of pain degenerated into a tearful gasp. His hands fell to his crotch. He dropped to his knees, muttering something unintelligible through the pain. Not that Jessica listened. She raced past Wilson and slid into the squad car. Thankfully, he had left the engine running. Unable to see because of the smoke, she felt around for the shift, moved it into reverse, and backed up. An overweight man struggled to climb out the manhole, but could not get enough of a grip on the flat pavement to pull himself out. Jessica shifted into park, climbed out of the squad car, and raced over to help.
The vampire had scurried half-way up the ladder when Patterson called out, “Someone’s moving the car.”
“About time.” Though Jim wondered if he had any left.
The vampire pounced on Jim, its talon-like nails slicing into his flesh as it crawled its way up his back. Jim tried to pull away, but the vampire pinned him to the wall. Its left hand wrapped around Jim’s cheek, pushing his head to one side and exposing his neck. He smelled the thing’s decayed breath and felt the cold exhalation on his skin.
Patterson finally crawled through the manhole and onto the street. The afternoon sun poured into the manhole, bathing the vampire in its rays. It bellowed so loud the noise deafened Jim. The vampire tried to crawl down to escape, but Jim shoved his body back, pinning it against the wall. Its skin began to burn off in small strips that crumbled into ash, the destruction becoming more rapid the longer it stayed in the sunlight. The vampire flailed around, trying to break free, until it eventually disintegrated into a cloud of dust and ash that settled to the landing.
Jim climbed the rest of the way up the ladder. Jessica waited for him and helped him through the manhole. As he stood up, Jessica studied the bloody claw marks on his back. “Oh my God. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” Jim looked beyond Jessica. “Is everything okay up here?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“I just wondered why that cop had a gun trained on us.”
Jessica turned. Patterson stood three feet away with his arms raised above his head. Wilson had struggled to his feet and stumbled over to the Ram. Steadying himself against the bed with his left hand, with his right he aimed his service revolver at Jessica and Jim. Tears still streamed down his face.
“All three of you. Face down on the pavement. Now!”
Drake and Alison raced along the sanitation sewer as fast as they could. Accumulated layers of human waste encrusted the walkway, making the footing underneath as slippery as ice. They kept a lead on the pursuing vampire by pausing every fifty feet and firing a few rounds into it. Each time they succeeded in stopping it only for a few seconds, barely long enough for them to gain ground. Despite sustaining a score of wounds that would have been fatal to a human, it continued the pursuit, a little slower after each set of wounds, and a hell of a lot more pissed off. Drake and Alison were rapidly running out of ammunition and stamina.
“I have only one magazine left,” Drake panted. “What about you?”
“Two or three rounds at most.”
“Then we better think of something quick.”
“Way ahead of you.”
Alison stopped running, spun around, and crouched. The vampire was only twenty feet behind them and closing fast. Alison aimed the shotgun, lowered the barrel a few inches, and squeezed the trigger. The first round peppered its right leg with buckshot. The second blew off its leg at the knee. With a guttu
ral howl, it crashed to the walkway only a few feet from Alison. Yet without missing a stride, it came after her, crawling on its arms and single good leg.
Standing up, Alison raced off after Drake.
“This way.” Drake stood by the opening to another branch line blocked by a foot-high retainer wall. Alison jumped over the sanitation trough to the opposite walkway, nearly losing her balance. Drake reached out, grabbed her hand, and yanked her into the storm drain line. She regained her footing on the dry floor. The two raced down the drain. After one hundred feet, they came to another landing and access tunnel adjacent to a construction site. An acetylene tank, a jack hammer, and a portable generator sat on either side of the landing. Across from the tunnel sat a storage area recessed into the wall and covered with a chain link fence. The gate stood open, a metal chain and padlock dangling off the handle.
Alison made for the landing, but Drake directed her into the storage area.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Trust me. I have an idea.”
Once inside, Drake pulled the gate shut and secured the chain around the metal supports. He had just secured the padlock between two links when the vampire slammed into the gate in front of him. Drake jumped back, stumbling into a stack of wooden crates.
Decayed tissue and tendons hung from the vampire’s severed leg. Buckshot wounds peppered its face and body, each oozing blood and gore. Smoke swirled from more than a dozen .40 caliber wounds where holy water burned into its body. It snarled at Drake. Then, realizing its victims were trapped, its expression changed. It ran a blackened tongue over its gums, savoring its next meal. Reaching up, the vampire grabbed the corner of the chain links and began ripping it away from the support columns.
Drake took Alison by the arm and led her behind the wooden crates.
“Great plan, Einstein,” she said. “Any more brilliant ideas?”
“Yeah. Take cover.”
Alison sprawled face down between the crates and wall. Drake got onto his back and leaned around the corner of the last crate. By now, the vampire had pulled away an entire corner of the chain link fence. Drake aimed his Glock at the acetylene tank and fired off a round.
The Vampire Hunters (Book 2): Vampyrnomicon Page 2