Vamp-Hire

by Rice, Gerald Dean

  There were two gunshots and she whirled in the direction of the door. Nick willed her to turn the key.

  “Pearlanne, whatever’s going on up there, somebody’s got a gun. If it’s not your father or Wendell they’ll be coming down here next.” She nodded quickly and undid the lock, springing open the hatch. Nick crawled out, wondering how they’d gotten him in. It had to have been awkward getting him inside.

  “Okay, we have to start letting some of these people out.”

  “Nobody’s shooting,” she said. “Why isn’t anybody else shooting?” He knew what she meant. She’d probably recognized the gunfire. If one of her people had been the shooter a moment ago then he should have come or called down if he’d wounded someone. Just the two shots and then nothing was probably worse than no shots at all.

  Nick snatched the key out and went to the next pen. His foreign neighbor was on his knees, still looking frazzled. In the heat of the moment, Nick had to admit he wasn’t exactly comfortable letting him out. He’d never seen a vamp look like him before and had no clue if he were violent. He went to the pen next over and unlocked that one. Nick worked as fast as he could, unlocking each one until he made it to the end.

  Vamps began crawling out through their hatches, including the three he’d been in the truck with.

  “We should kill her,” one of them said, looking at Pearlanne.

  “No. There’s no time for that. You heard what’s going on up there.” Nick didn’t want anyone else dying if he could avoid it. “We don’t know if they’re going to do the same to us.”

  “Yeah,” a woman said. “But they want you. Not us. Those are vamps up there. For all we know we can walk right past them and out the door.” She pushed past Nick.

  “Where are you going?” Nick said.

  “Out. This isn’t my fight.” Others grumbled and a few followed her. Pearlanne had taken to nervously picking at her fingertips.

  “Pearlanne! Pearlanne!” Nick pushed through the bodies to get back to her. “What’s that chainsaw for?”

  “Cutting trees,” she said. Her eyes were all wrong. “I’m so scared. All those feelings. It’s just too much, I can’t stand it.”

  He held her face between his hands.

  “You have to calm down. If you turned it on you can turn it off.”

  “I can’t feel my daddy.” Tears were streaming down her face. She nodded and closed her eyes.

  Someone screamed behind him and Nick turned to see a small group of vamps standing by the door and a long arc of red just before it splashed them in the face. A vamp who looked about sixteen or so shoved his way back through, his face frozen with horror. His whole head was red save for his wide, shocked eyes.

  He stumbled and the vamp nearest him was snatched through the open doorway. It was dark through there, but if those were vamps on the other side, no lights wasn’t a problem for them.

  The other vamps gathered at the door retreated and Nick grabbed the chainsaw off the table. He looked for a cord or something to pull to start it and found a button nestled on the side.

  The three vamps that were by the door had shut it, all of them leaning against it to keep it closed.

  “I don’t think we can hold it for long!” a tall blond shrieked. “Do something, quick!”

  Nick wanted to ask them what they had seen, what had happened. He didn’t see the woman who had led the group to the door. She had to have been the first one through it and that arc of blood had probably been hers.

  The teenager who had pushed past the trio had crawled back into a pen. He had his arms wrapped around his legs and was staring at some point in space, eyes filled with hollow terror.

  “Pearlanne, is there any way out of here other than that door?” Nick asked. The look on her face was a twin of the boy’s. Nick grabbed her by one arm and gave it a shake. “Pearlanne!”

  “Yes! I mean, no. I… I don’t know.” Her eyes settled on him and flittered away. Nick looked at the chainsaw, then at a window near the rear of the room, high up on a ten foot tall wall. It was covered with bars and wouldn’t be big enough for someone with broad shoulders and big arms. Despite their brief and unpleasant history, he felt responsible for all the vamps in this room, especially her.

  Something big dented the door from the other side. The vamps barely held it in place. Everyone in the room gasped.

  “All right, they’re coming in,” Nick said under his breath. He took a half dozen purposeful steps to the door. “If they want me, they can have me. But they’re gonna have to work for it.” He thumbed the button on the chainsaw and it was nowhere near as loud as he’d been expecting. Nick wanted an intimidating sound. Something that would boost his confidence and sap the courage of their attackers. The door ripped open and someone screamed. One of the vamps fell and two were thrown back when a hand snatched out of the dark and grabbed the wrist of a woman in a sweater and jeans and twisted.

  Nick charged, leaping over the fallen vamp and plunged into darkness.

  A face had barely emerged from the dark with black eyes and a blood-streaked mouth. Nick slammed into a body blade first, feeling the chain bog down as it ripped through flesh. Nick was screaming at the top of his lungs, barely hearing himself, nearly drowned out the by dull buzz of the electric chainsaw grinding through meat and bone. The vamp wailed and backhanded him. Nick ducked his head at the last moment, taking the brunt of the heavy-knuckled blow on the top of his head. He felt the chainsaw punch all the way through and pulled back and up, trying to tear as much body as possible.

  Blood splattered onto him in thick, hot glops, like someone was chucking a can of paint on his chest that had been left in the sun. It had an acidic smell the likes of which he was unfamiliar, heavy and caustic. Then hands grabbed Nick by the back of his shirt and lifted him off his feet. He was propelled across the room, somehow managing to hold onto the chainsaw, bouncing off something heavy and large before crashing to the floor.

  He could feel them in here. At least three, including the one he’d injured. Nick could hear it gurgling and sensed the hesitance of the others. They were related somehow. Nick couldn’t wrap his head around it. Not siblings, not friends, not blood related, but related some way. If he survived the next ten minutes or so he made a mental note to ask.

  Nick tried to push himself off the floor and his hands slipped on blood-slickened linoleum. He smelled it all of a sudden; all over him, still warm and soaking into his clothes. It didn’t smell right. Not that blood had a ‘right’ smell, but it smelled… off. To Nick’s nose, human and vamp blood had a near indistinguishable scent. He’d been around enough paper cuts, scraped knees, and poked fingers to know this had a trace of something else in it.

  He rolled off his butt and carefully planted his hands, getting on all fours. His eyes adjusted and he saw no one. He’d lost the chainsaw somewhere. He heard them and was just as certain they heard him. They seemed unsure. Nick had to have either killed or critically injured the first one. The vamps remaining must have been determining what to do next. Sheep sometimes fought back, they weren’t supposed to kill the wolf, though.

  Nick realized the clicking sounds he was hearing was speech. They were talking to one another, though he didn’t know what they were saying. He could pick up enough of the intonations to know they were afraid. This was probably supposed to be a simple pick up for them. The average person, human or vamp, was probably sheep to them. Fighting back, at least significantly so, was uncommon. Especially with a chainsaw.

  They knew they had Nick in here with them. What they didn’t know was if there were more people with chainsaws getting ready to come charging in. Nick spotted the butt of the chainsaw on the floor around the corner of the desk he was hiding behind. If he could grab it and get it started again, he could either wound or scare the hell out of them and make it back to the others.

  A pair of feet landed heavily on the desk and a vamp let out a screech. Nick ducked when a hand clawed the air above his head. He rolled under the des
k onto his back and kicked straight up as hard as he could. He felt its weight shift as it tumbled and fell. For a moment they made eye contact where they both lay on the floor and then it was gone.

  A shadow passed him on the right. Nick shrank back as another one, or maybe the same one, landed and crouched in front of him. It had the general size and shape of a person, but this thing had nothing else in common with a human. Its horrible smell was worsened when its mouth fell open and it lunged for him. Nick thrust his feet into its chest, driving the creature back, knowing he had only bought himself seconds.

  Then came the scream. He and the vamp paused before it quickly stood and ran.

  It wasn’t only one scream, it was several. Nick hurriedly scooched from under the desk and saw the shadowy form of the last vamp as it retreated through a door. Pearlanne was at the front of a mass of vamps who had poured through the doorway and were advancing into the room. They were kicking and punching anything within reach, probably scared out of their minds and totally unprepared for an actual fight. Shockingly, it had worked. At least for the time being.

  Someone found a light. Even though all of them either had or quickly would have adjusted to the dark, nothing truly chased away the monsters like illumination. Several of them turned on Nick and he held up his hands like someone was pointing a gun.

  “You’re alive?” a bearded vamp said.

  “Wait a minute,” the tall blond said, narrowing his eyes. “How? Those things tore Kathy and Derek to shreds in seconds. How’d you make it?”

  “The chainsaw.” Nick laughed nervously. The adrenaline rush was wearing off and he felt shaky. He grabbed hold of a chair and used it to prop himself up. He thought it was important to be standing right now. This wasn’t over yet.

  Pearlanne was a few feet away and she picked up the chainsaw. She looked at something across the room.

  “This… did that?”

  Though Nick couldn’t see the one he’d caught with the chainsaw he could tell it was bad by several ashen faces aimed at a spot near the door.

  “I think he’s still alive,” a man said, shoving his glasses back up his nose. He looked at the man next to him. “Right?” Nick had never seen one of his kind wear glasses. As it had been explained to him, the nature of the vamp condition corrected most minor genetic weaknesses or the host died. Maybe the glasses were for fashion only.

  “Well, let’s see what it knows,” a woman said. It was the same one whose wrist had been broken by the creature on the floor. The manner in which she was looking told him this was something beyond curiosity.

  Nick came closer and got a good look at the damage done. The thing on the floor was three-quarters away from being sawn in half. Nick had caught it just below the middle of its chest and ripped all the way through its right side. There was surprisingly little blood and Nick realized most of it was on him, sticky and cool. He didn’t like the way his shirt clung to him, but there was nothing to be done about it unless he was willing to take it off.

  It was holding onto its insides. Nick peered into the vamp’s wound and saw jagged bone, lacerated intestines, and other organs that looked like shredded meat. The creature shouldn’t have been alive. Presently, it was dragging itself as best it could with one arm in no direction whatsoever.

  The woman laid a hand on its bare upper arm, the one it was using to hang onto its guts. It swiveled its head toward her.

  It hadn’t been crying out in pain before, and now a small sound escaped its gaping wide mouth. Its tongue had been lolling around, like it had come loose from its moorings, then it withdrew into the cavern of the mouth, the jaw relocating with two thick clicks. The change had an immediate, humanizing effect on the face.

  He looked about twenty with soft brown eyes and full lips. He closed his eyes like he was concentrating or trying to remember something. The woman’s grip on his arm tightened and he cried out again.

  Her grip didn’t appear that tight even though it was hurting him all the same. Nick realized it must have been a Skill of some sort.

  “Now. I have your attention.”

  He raised his free hand toward her and it stopped midair. She smiled at him, though it was anything but happy. Cruelty lived in that smile. Whatever she was doing to him must have hurt worse than the wounds from the chainsaw.

  “Too much pain and he blacks out, too little and he tries to fight. It takes a little effort to find the right balance, but once I’m there he’ll tell me whatever I want to know.” She looked at Nick, her eyes almost as inhuman as the creature’s a moment ago. “What do I want to know?”

  ‘Brandon’ offered surprisingly little resistance once they began asking questions. Kim turned his pain on and off, increasing his agony in small increments when he tried not to answer, dulling his pain when he cooperated. He’d begun crying and Nick could only guess that it was because he was betraying every confidence his group had held in him.

  “Who do you work for?” Nick asked. He was amazed that not only was he still not dead, his body had begun knitting itself together.

  “I work for no one,” Brandon said and his eyes widened. Kim bared her teeth, and Nick recognized the fake smile for what it was. “I walk the Road of Bone! I reside in the City of the Dead!” he screamed.

  “I didn’t ask you that,” Nick said. “Who do you work for?”

  Brandon held out for a beat or two longer, gritting his teeth. How much agony must he have been in? After being eviscerated by a chainsaw he’d still managed to stay as quiet as a church mouse. Nick had heard the expression before, though he didn’t really know if church mice were actually quiet or were the loudest species of mouse.

  “I work for him.”

  “Who is ‘him’?”

  More silence, then a sound like he was choking. “He calls himself Cain! We don’t know his real name!”

  “Kim, is he telling the truth?” She was tied into his nervous system and could monitor things like heart rate and brain function. If needed, she could feel what he felt or make him feel anything or nothing at all. It would have been useless for him to lie; she would have known before he opened his mouth.

  One of the first things she learned was his wound wasn’t immediately fatal. Probably crippling. Hopefully, Nick thought. If he weren’t put back together properly, he would heal the way he was and be two sections of body connected by an isthmus of flesh about as thick as Nick’s thigh. He had seen signs of Brandon’s body working to repair itself and noted the drawn-in look of his cheeks and eyes. His body was cannibalizing itself to survive.

  “Yes.” She leaned in closer to him. “Who is Cain and what does he want with us?”

  “Not you,” Brandon whispered. She leaned back and relief flooded into his eyes. “Him.” He looked at Nick. “He was going to let us eat the rest of them.” He sounded almost pleased with himself. Kim, surprisingly, didn’t give him another jolt of pain.

  “Great,” a man behind them said. “These guys want to eat us now? What makes him so special?”

  Nick also wanted to hear the answer to that one.

  “Not human like you.”

  “What?” Nick said. “We’re all vamps here. All of us.”

  Despite his tortured expression, Brandon managed a laugh that terminated in a coughing fit. Nick noted one exposed lobe of lung that deflated and inflated violently until his coughing eased.

  “No. You are not like them. You are like us.”

  Nick regarded Brandon’s general bigness and had no idea what his meaning was. He hadn’t gotten a good look at the other two, but they’d felt bigger than average too—superhuman, or super vamp. In all his interactions with other vamps back at the Center there had never been anything particularly outstanding about him physically, physiologically, or mentally.

  Nick was absolutely confident that getting cut in half with a chainsaw would kill him and had no desire to test the bounds of his mortality.

  Brandon pushed a loose ball of flesh hanging out of him back inside. Sinews had
begun to fill the huge gap in the cavern of his body. Though still slow, it was much faster than any human or vamp could accomplish. Nick thought if they left him alone he might be up and walking in a few days’ time.

  “If I can step in here before you go all enigma-wrapped-in-a-riddle, what does that mean?” Kim asked. She narrowed her eyes. “And I’d appreciate your slowest, most detail-infused answer.”

  Brandon’s back arched and he made involuntary claw-fists with his hands. He looked like he was having a seizure and Nick was about to put a hand to her shoulder to tell her to ease up. He didn’t know if touching her would break her hold on him or if touching her would subject him to what she was putting Brandon through.

  Her free hand was lying limp in the lap of her blue jeans, the neck of her wrist swollen and bruised. Maybe breaking her concentration would do more than hurt him.

  Then the bridge of Brandon’s back eased to the floor and he was still. He breathed for a full minute and she let him.

  “When I awoke, they gave me a name. I was more fortunate than the others because I was never fooled into believing I had been someone in the time before. I tried fitting in… there was no place for me in this world. Until Cain found me.” Nick thought he was trying to be evasive and was about to jump in to keep Kim from hurting him again, then he continued. “He… made me more myself. Showed me what true vampires were like. He has promised us that they shall live again in us. We are tasked with finding all of our kind to marshal an unstoppable army so we may take our rightful place as the rulers of this world.”

  “B.S.,” the vamp standing next to Nick said. He had a widow’s peak and icy blue eyes. “He must be out of his mind delusional. I mean, come on, how close is this guy to death? He has to be hallucinating!”

  “He’s not,” Kim said. Her tone was flat and certain. “If he’s wrong, then he’s the same kind of wrong as any other zealot who truly believes.”