A Final Taste of Blood

by Wayne C. Rogers

  Freeman stepped warily out from the back entrance of the condominium complex and onto Topaz Street, eyeing everything in both directions. The ex-tunnel rat didn’t mind the wetness. It reminded him of Nam. Dressed in jeans, a long-sleeved flannel shirt, black running shoes, and a black leather bomber jacket, the rain seemed to flow off of him like water running down a duck’s back.

  This time, however, Freeman had a black sheathed K-bar knife strapped to each thigh. Even though it was wet and cold, his jacket is unzipped so he could easily reach inside for the .50 caliber magnum revolver in its leather shoulder holster. There was a mini-two-way radio hooked onto his belt with a mini-mike attached to the lapel of his coat. Positioned in his left ear was a cordless ear-plug receiver so he could listen to Malloy, Peterson and Rogers.

  Glancing in the direction of the alleyway behind the shopping center where Betty had died saving his life, he sighed with regret, remembering that eventful night as if it were yesterday.

  “I’ve just exited the back entrance of the complex,” Freeman said into the mini-mike. “I’m now heading toward Reno.”

  ******

  Mike Malloy was lying underneath the netting near the south-east corner of the roof. He was wearing his camouflage gear and looking through his night-time binoculars at Reno Avenue where Topaz Street intersected. The covering protected him and the sniper’s rifle from the drizzle. He had a mini-mike attached to the lapel of his camouflage jacket. Staring through the binoculars, Malloy didn’t see anything. There was no sign of life on either side of the street.

  “I can’t see you, Ben,” Malloy said.

  ******

  Dressed in his own camouflage outfit with an H&K MP5SD submachine gun at the ready, Peterson was hidden beneath large shrubbery on the south-west corner of Reno and Topaz. He was wet and miserable, but had a Smith & Wesson .44 magnum revolver with a four-inch barrel inside a shoulder holster. It gave him more comfort than the H&K did.

  Peterson watched Freeman approach through his own set of binoculars. He lowered them and leaned toward the mini-mike on his camouflage jacket.

  “Everything is clear, Ben,” he said. “I have you in my sights. Jesus, I’m soaking wet from laying out here for three hours. I suggest we call it a night.”

  “I second that,” Buddy Rogers voice said over the mini-mike. “I’m down here in the middle of nowhere by myself. Let’s call it a night.”

  ******

  Freeman turned right at the corner and moved toward Eastern Avenue. He gave Peterson a hand signal to be patient.

  ******

  Malloy could see Freeman now and continued to watch him and the immediate area through the binoculars.

  “I have you in my sight and everything is clear,” he said.

  ******

  Freeman made his way down to the corner on Eastern, following the wall around to the front entrance of the complex. A couple of cars drove past on the street in both directions with their headlights on and their windshield wipers going at full blast.

  As Freeman entered the condominium complex, his eyes took in the shadows behind the buildings on either side of the narrow street. He listened for any unusual sounds. When he finally reached the lane that ran behind his condo, he stopped and stood there on the sidewalk.

  “I’ll go around the complex one more time, and then we can call it a night,” he said into the mike. “I’m tired, too.”

  “Let’s stay in the complex the next time around,” Malloy’s voice said over the mike. “After that, if nothing happens, we’ll close up shop.”

  ******

  Malloy suddenly stared harder through his binoculars. He saw the vague shape of a vehicle without any headlights on, driving west on Reno toward the Topaz intersection. The mysterious automobile pulled over to the side of the road and stopped. The wipers were sliding from side-to-side as the car idled there with exhaust fumes being emitted from its tail pipe. The driver was apparently drinking from a cup and seemed to be waiting for something to happen.

  “I have an unidentified vehicle in view,” Malloy said. “It’s sitting on the side of the road about fifteen yards east of you, Frank.”

  ******

  Peterson shifted his position and looked at the car through his binoculars. He instantly recognized Dwayne Matthews seated behind the steering wheel, drinking what appeared to be a cup of coffee. He lowered the binoculars and shook his head.

  “It’s my former partner,” he said into the mini-mike.

  ******

  Malloy continued to stare at the car through his binoculars.

  “He’s going to fuck everything up,” Malloy said. “Can you do anything, Frank?”

  ******

  Peterson had a dour expression on his face as if he’d just swallowed something distasteful.

  “I’ll go talk to him,” he said. “I don’t know what I can do. I’m no longer a cop.”

  ******

  Freeman walked down the lane behind his home, listening to what was being said. The rain was starting to come down a little harder. As he made his way to the wall where it all began a month ago, he started to zip up his jacket. That was when he saw a vague, dark shape down at the end of the back lane over on the south side of the complex.

  It instantly aroused his suspicion.

  The dark shape ran swiftly through the rain and up the sidewalk that wound around the end of the building.

  The shape was wearing a trench coat.

  Freeman knew it was the creature, and that he was being lured into another trap like the last time. He didn’t care. Pulling out the heavy Smith & Wesson revolver, he cocked the hammer back and began to run down the back lane.

  “Everybody remain in place,” he said. “I just saw the creature moving into the shadows on the southeast end of the complex. I’m going after it.”

  The ex-tunnel rat was running full out with the revolver down by his side. When he reached the sidewalk that ran between the building and the wall that surrounded the complex, he stopped and stared into the looming darkness. He hoped to catch a glimpse of the thing that had tracked him halfway around the world.

  Stepping hesitantly onto the sidewalk, he began to follow it around to the rear of the condominium.

  ******

  Mike Malloy had the Barrett sniper’s rifle lined up. He was looking through the night scope as Freeman moved fast in the curve of the sidewalk, disappearing from sight.

  “I can’t see you, Ben.”

  ******

  Freeman stayed quiet as he followed the pathway to the back. He held the big revolver outward in a strong two-handed grip, ready to fire at the first sign of movement. Stopping in his tracks, he stared into the blackness ahead with a questioning look in his eyes. The tension was palpable with nothing but the sound of rain hitting the ground and dead leaves.

  A large oak tree was five yards away, near the corner of the wall where it turned left and trailed Topaz to the back entrance. The trunk of the tree was thick and wet. As the loud clapping of thunder filled the night and a streak of lightening briefly illuminated the area, two red demonic eyes peered at Freeman from behind the tree.

  Freeman saw the eyes and fired his weapon out of pure instinct. The gun blast sounded like a stick of dynamite going off. The muzzle lift was sky high. Freeman, however, managed to hold onto the weapon and to fire it a second time as quickly as possible.

  As the .50 caliber magnum bullet exploded out of the gun barrel with a bright muzzle flash that rivaled the lightening in the sky, a good-size chunk of the tree was blown clear off, while the other bullet tore through the cinderblock wall and into the other wall across the street. Fortunately, few people were up at that time of night.

  The Melvin/creature left the cover of the tree and swiftly climbed the nearby wall like a cat, sliding over the top and disappearing from sight.

  Freeman kept the handgun aimed at the wall as he spoke into the mini-mike.

  “Frank, it’s on your side!”

  “I see it!”
Peterson’s voice cried out over the mike.

  ******

  As Peterson got out from underneath the bush, firing burst after burst from his submachine gun, he spoke anxiously into his mini-mike.

  “Guys, I need some help here,” he said, dropping his automatic weapon to the ground. He unsnapped his fatigue jacket, and then withdrew the .44 magnum revolver. “Help, somebody! I can’t stop this freak of nature by myself.”

  The creature approached Peterson with a crooked grin on its face, its blood-red eyes blazing with hostility.

  ******

  Buddy Rogers stormed out of the alleyway behind the Pizza Hut and ran down Topaz Street to Reno as fast as he could pump his legs.

  I’ll be there in less than a minute!” Buddy said into the mike.

  ******

  Taking a wide stance, Peterson held the revolver up in a two-handed grip like Freeman was doing with his weapon. He needed to steady his shaking hands and hopefully hit the damn thing when he fired the weapon.

  Just as Peterson fired the large handgun and missed, the unmarked police car that had been parked further up the street tore into the intersection with screeching tires and the blinding brightness of its headlights. Its blue-and-red emergency lights were flashing, and its siren blaring loudly into the chaotic night.

  The car slammed to a halt, and Detective Dwayne Matthews jumped from the vehicle with his semi-automatic handgun drawn and aimed at the creature on the sidewalk.

  “Freeze motherfucker!” Matthews shouted as if he were in a movie.

  The creature changed its direction and charged Matthews as the Homicide Detective managed to get off three rounds, missing the monstrosity as Peterson had with his automatic weapon. He stared with eyes that saw what his mind refused to believe. The thing knocked the pistol from his hand, grabbed him by his neck, and lifted him high into the air like a child.

  As Peterson started to fire his large revolver again, Buddy Rogers seemed to come from out of nowhere and landed on the Melvin/creature’s back with his right arm wrapped around its throat. He didn’t know the individual whom the creature was holding in the air and didn’t have time to think about it. Drawing his K-par knife, he prepared to drive the point of it into the side of the thing’s neck.

  That was when all hell broke loose.

  The Marvin/creature shook Matthews’ body and then swung him around so that the .44 magnum round being fired from Peterson’s handgun struck the police officer in the back and exploded out of his chest, missing the monster’s face by centimeters as it hit Buddy Rogers under his left eye and blew his head clear off.

  Dropping a lifeless Matthews to the asphalt, the creature shook Buddy free of its back, and then howled at the clouds, knowing a full moon was hidden behind them.

  Peterson fired two more shots as the Melvin/creature spun around in his direction. The thing simply shifted its body to the right and then a little to the left to avoid the bullets. Not knowing what else to do, the ex-cop holstered the revolver and pulled out his K-Bar knife from the sheath on his belt. He knew he was going to die, but didn’t care. Peterson just wanted one chance to cut the creature with a killing stroke across the throat.

  ******

  Freeman didn’t move as the inside lights from the condo to the left flicked on. He continued to stare at the top of the wall, listening carefully to the sounds of death on the other side.

  “I’m going over the wall, Mike,” he said into the transmitter. “If you have a shot, take it.”

  The first thing Freeman did was place the handgun back into its shoulder holster. Then, he ran as fast as he could toward the tree and hit its trunk with the bottom of his foot. He swiveled his body around and sprang upward to the top of the wall, catching it with his elbows.

  ******

  On the roof of the condominium, Malloy stared through the night scope of his rifle. He now had a shot that could be taken without collateral damage. The former Green Beret watched as the creature cautiously approached Peterson. The crosshairs were lined up on the side of its head. Malloy could tell the thing wasn’t afraid. Shit, he couldn’t stop smiling to himself as the old man crouched into a knife-fighting stance, ready to slice and dice.

  You don’t mess with old people and walk away, Malloy thought as he gently squeezed the trigger of the rifle.

  ******

  The Melvin/creature was about to spring at Frank Peterson when a high-caliber bullet passed its head by an inch and blew the hood off of the unmarked police vehicle, sending the metal sheet flying into the air and causing a blaze of fire to erupt from within the engine block.

  A thunderous booming sound filled the night.

  Glancing in the direction of Freeman’s condominium, the creature wagged its forefinger at Malloy like he’d just been a naughty boy.

  ******

  Peterson used that moment to move into the quai vat and slash the edge of the blade down the front of its upper body, slicing open two old flannel shirts and a grungy white T-shirt, cutting the flesh open on the chest.

  Roaring its disapproval at the unexpected pain, the monster swiftly turned back to Peterson and slapped the blade from the man’s hand. It then took a tight hold of Peterson by his flak jacket and tossed him back into the bushes like a discarded soda can.

  ******

  As the creature started to go after the old man, a second bullet whipped past its face, tearing into the opened door of the unmarked police car, sending it crashing into the side of the vehicle.

  Another loud boom sounded in the near distance.

  The Melvin/creature started to turn in Malloy’s direction, but heard something landing on the ground where the street corner was. It decided to run down Reno Avenue instead, disappearing into the bushes that grew in front of the tan wall.

  ******

  Freeman stepped carefully out of from the shrubbery with the stainless steel revolver held in both hands and aimed forward. He saw the burning car to his left and the lifeless bodies of Rogers and Matthews lying akimbo in the street.

  Walking over to them, he knelt down and felt for a pulse in the side of their throats. But, both men were as dead as yesterday’s newspaper and there was nothing he could do to change it.

  The death of Buddy Rogers seemed to hit him the hardest.

  Freeman had saved the man’s life in Vietnam, only to have his friend murdered in Las Vegas during a rainy night over something that didn’t even concern him. This hadn’t been Buddy’s fight, but he’d joined the team because he’d felt that he owed Freeman something from long ago.

  Rising back to his feet, Freeman scanned the immediate area but didn’t see Peterson.

  “Frank?” he called out in a low voice.

  “Over here,” Peterson’s voice whispered back from the other side of the street.

  Freeman kept glancing behind him as he followed the sound of the voice. More lights in the neighborhood were starting to come on. He saw one person staring out a bedroom window as he made his way to the south side of Reno Avenue. He didn’t allow his attention and instincts to falter. Ignoring the guy in the window, Freeman kept turning his head this way and that, searching for the quai vat, knowing the creature wasn’t far away.

  Peterson miraculously appeared a few seconds later, struggling to rise to his feet amongst the bushes that surrounded him. Freeman hurried over to the ex-police officer and helped him up, happy to see that he was still alive.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, keeping a firm grip on the man’s elbow.

  “I’m better than Rogers and Matthews are,” Peterson said. “My bullet killed them both.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “When I fired the last shot, the creature turned around with Matthews’ body in front of it. The bullet struck Dwayne in the back, went through him, and hit Buddy Rogers in the face. It was my fault, Ben. I killed them.”

  “It was an accident, Frank. Don’t blame yourself for what the quai vat did.”

  “I don’t think we’re going to
be able to kill this son-of-a-bitch.”

  “Oh, we’re going kill it all right,” Freeman said. “I’ll make sure of that. Where is the goddamn monster?”

  “I don’t know,” Peterson said. “It tossed me into the bushes and then took off to parts unknown.”

  Freeman lowered his chin to the mini-mike. “Come in, Malloy. Do you read me?”

  “I’m here,” Malloy’s voice said.

  “Do you see the creature anywhere?” Freeman asked, holstering the handgun.