Vamp-Hire

by Rice, Gerald Dean

  “I know, honey,” Dolph said. His voice was infinitely softer than anyone else he’d spoken to. “We’re going to go get her.” He affixed Nick with his hardest stare yet and words couldn’t have told him better what the man was thinking. Get her or die trying. The only reason he wasn’t in there was because he had to keep his great-grandson safe.

  Nick nodded and was about to step back inside when Pearlanne waved to him from the street.

  “Wait!” she shouted. “Wait, I’m coming with you!”

  “No!” Nick shouted back. “You stay with them.” He pointed at Dolph and Randy. “Keep them safe!”

  She unslung some sort of rifle strapped to her back. Nick thought it was an M-16, actually, he assumed about everything not a handgun was an M-16. The four of them jogged in a line through the wrecked cars in the parking lot and up the stairs.

  “I can help.” The other three were out of breath; Pearlanne wasn’t. “What happened to your face?” she asked, her expression changing.

  “Nothing.” Nick’s voice still didn’t sound right. He turned back, not wanting her to see whatever Dolph had a few moments before. “I have to go back inside.”

  “Okay, let’s go.” She gave Clip and the others an intricate hand signal and they nodded, their eyes on Dolph and Randy. “You and I can take the rest and they can keep these two safe.”

  “No.” Nick shook his head. “It’s too dangerous. I can’t protect you in there.”

  She smiled. “I don’t need your protection. You either go or I will and you can follow me.”

  Nick wanted to argue, he wanted to express to her how dangerous it was. He could feel some of his edge slipping. He probably could have convinced her, if there were time. He still felt powerful, but his newfound strength was definitely waning and he had no clue how long it would last. He stepped back inside.

  Cain hadn’t gone far. Nick could sense he and Phoebe were close. The problem was making it to them alive. He still didn’t have a plan.

  He needed to fly or glide to get to the third tier, and found he didn’t know how, willing in vain for his body to move. When nothing happened for several beats, Nick jogged to the escalator, Pearlanne right behind him.

  They went up unchallenged. After seeing nothing on the second tier they rounded the escalator and ascended to the third. They were halfway up when a vamp launched itself at them and all he could do was duck out of the way. Nick felt a second of panic, certain the mass of the creature would be enough to knock Pearlanne over, sending the two of them tumbling down the metal stairs and critically injuring her.

  He felt the flash of the rifle as she lit into its body, the thundering shots altering the vamp’s course just enough that it flew overhead and off to the side, falling the fifteen feet or so onto the glass rail at the edge of the second floor. The rail shattered where it hit, shards ripping into the creature’s body. It immediately leapt up, blood fountaining out of several long wounds and it tumbled blindly over the edge to the bottom floor.

  It landed with a pop. Nick and Pearlanne didn’t bother waiting to see if it got back up. It probably was alive still and was now way less of a threat than what was waiting for them on the third floor. They climbed the rest of the stairs, looking in all directions.

  The graffiti on the floors and walls was lightest up here, as if only the bravest taggers had dared to come this far up. They rose from a crouch and Nick noticed a long squiggly arrow on a clean lane of floor leading toward stores in the back.

  They looked at each other. It seemed as right as any other direction. Nick had had a general sense they were up here, and no more than that. Pearlanne kept on a swivel, making sure they weren’t caught by surprise.

  “Wait,” he said, putting a hand in front of her. “They’re hiding.” He concentrated, letting his senses fill up and reach out. The stale urine smell burned in his nose until other scents began to rise above it. He closed his eyes.

  There was a nest of rats in the store space next to them. He could feel their collective body heat, hear their breathing. Nick could smell the scent of old perfume beneath dust and rot, could taste old salt, burnt wood, sweat.

  Phoebe’s sweat. He’d lived with her long enough to know the scent.

  “That way,” Nick said. He pointed straight ahead to the broken out glass doors of what had been a video game store.

  A screech arose from inside as the two of them proceeded. They knew they were coming.

  “Alright, I’m going in,” Nick said. He channeled his inner-Dolph and fixed her with his hardest stare. “You stay here.”

  “Right,” she said. For a moment her face was blank then she blinked. “No.”

  “I mean it, Pearlanne. Don’t come in.” He grabbed her firmly by the shoulder and she winced. He stopped himself from apologizing. If this was the worst she got hurt he was doing her a favor.

  “No. You go, I go. Even if you don’t go, I’m going.”

  “Pearlanne, that’s not how this works.”

  “I get it. You think you have more buy-in than anybody else. Well, that little boy’s grandfather is out there keeping him safe. If he could be here he’d already be cracking heads regardless of who was with him.”

  “Dammit, Pearlanne, I said—”

  “Quit trying to play hero and let’s go!”

  She traded a half empty magazine for a full one, slapping it in and pulling a latch at the top. Pearlanne yanked what looked like a bottle of paint rigged up like a grenade and lobbed it inside. “Cover your eyes,” she said.

  Nick turned his head and closed his eyes and everything went white. He didn’t immediately notice he couldn’t hear and he looked again after she tugged on his sleeve then followed her inside.

  A vamp charged right at them. Pearlanne’s body shook, brief flashes of light illuminating the near dark. Nick watched the creature’s head break apart in a lit slow motion and it fell to the ground. Nick took a moment to look at the painfully thin body before another one was leaping at him. Pearlanne turned to fire, but it was too close. He felt the sharp talons slash beneath his ear and caught it by the wrist before it could slash his throat. He spun, crushing its wrist as he flung it off. The pain in his face was sharp and he felt his body react before he could stop it.

  Nick fell on the vamp and sank his teeth in. The vamp gave a strangled roar that was cut off in seconds. This one petrified just as the other one had, and before he could drink as much as he needed. Nick rose, half shamed and unsatisfied. He wiped his chin, glad Pearlanne wasn’t looking at him. She sprayed across the chests of four advancing vamps that seemed more damaged by the rounds than Nick guessed they should have been. She snatched out the clip and instead of them rushing, two fell to the floor.

  Nick stepped around her, engaging the other two. One took a halfhearted swing that he ducked easily and counterpunched. Its flesh crumpled like papier-mâché under his fist and the second vamp squawked, trying to backpedal. He caught it easily, the creature’s arms tearing off at the sockets when he grabbed them.

  All the vamps around them were desiccated, like they’d been dead for years.

  “Clean up in aisle three.” Nick turned and smiled at Pearlanne. Bravado certainly wasn’t him, but he was definitely heady now, the cumulative effects of repeated blood drinking intoxicating him. She smiled back.

  He couldn’t sense any other vamps. The only question now was where were Cain and Leonard? The old man had been on a mission to reach Cain to put his hands on him like he had done those two vamps and Nick hoped he had succeeded. Even with his surprise attack, Nick wasn’t holding out hope.

  “Where is Cain?” he asked under his breath.

  “What?” Pearlanne said. As if on cue the mist that had been swirling around their ankles began to take shape. It quickly formed the shape of a man behind her and before Nick could call out it had seized her, the monster solidifying and lifting her off the floor.

  A robust-looking Cain shook her like a ragdoll twice before his head pitched back, that
bone tooth punched through the roof of his mouth, his upper body shot forward like a knife, and he stabbed her in the chest.

  By the time Nick got to them, Cain had already dropped her and stumbled back to the doorway. His body had shrunk considerably, like he’d lost fifty pounds in a matter of seconds.

  Even as Nick tended to Pearlanne, he’d understood what had happened. Cain had been feeding the vamps poison. It had made them feel strong, perhaps that had been a means to facilitate feeding off them. Something had gone wrong. Maybe they had been feeding as a means of sustaining themselves and Cain and at some point the supply chain had been broken.

  “I’m fine, I’m fine,” Pearlanne said, trying to stand. She wasn’t. She had a hole in her chest big enough to fit three fingers into. It had already filled with blood and was almost spilling over. He pushed her back down and put his hands over it to compress the wound. Had it been a gunshot or maybe even a bite, Nick would have swept her out of here, Phoebe be damned. Maybe she was fine, maybe she was dead; in this moment he was Pearlanne’s and hers alone.

  Her eyes remained clear and her voice strong, but the life was draining out of her. Her face paled and she began to sweat. She appeared not to notice, still trying to speak, still trying to get up.

  “What are you doing?” she said angrily. “We have to save her. We have to save them all.” He didn’t know who the ‘all’ was Pearlanne was referring to. As far as he could tell, all the other vamps were dead and there wasn’t anyone else in danger. Nick was even stronger from the blood he’d had. All the other vamps had had the same poison that was coursing through her now, coursing through him, however he didn’t feel any of the ill effects they had.

  He wasn’t dying like Pearlanne was.

  “Find my sister,” was the last coherent sentence she said. Holding her in his arms, Nick understood the relationship. They were empathically connected, it was a shared Skill. Her sister, in a twisted way, had had some sort of feeling for Nick which had lent itself to Pearlanne.

  She felt less substantial in his arms as she said things that made no sense, her speech devolving to single words, to grunts, to pregnant silence.

  Somewhere in the process she understood something wrong was happening to her.

  “Help me,” he read in her eyes. She was unable to vocalize it and there was nothing he could do. He could have fed on her, somehow knew in the feeding that he could have wiped her mind of the confusion as she emptied into him and perhaps a part of her in some distant respect would have survived. He felt that was probably some instinctual, predatory aspect of him that wanted to consume. That would consume everything in his path if he allowed it.

  “I can’t,” Nick said to her, tears streaming from his eyes. He gripped her hand, feeling the strength in her ebbing. He wept over her and she searched his eyes, trying to understand why he was crying.

  Then even her focus faded. Her breathing shallowed and she gazed at him as if he were a million miles away. She stroked his arm in a subconscious manner, as if comforting him. When he couldn’t stand to match her eyes on his, he closed hers. She didn’t open them, just went on stroking his arm for a moment longer.

  And then she was gone.

  A warm hand grasped his arm. He turned to see Cain’s eyes on him, on them. There was a look of surprise in the creature’s expression, as if it had never seen an act of compassion before.

  It spoke with words the likes of which Nick had never heard, but was all-too familiar.

  “You are my ancient enemy. We were meant to destroy one another.” Its eyes glazed and then hardened on him again. “How is it you care for this lamb?” True confusion clung to its face as it clung to life. Nick didn’t understand how if the rabisu were supposedly unkillable that it could be dying now.

  He put his hand on the creature’s where it rested on his arm and pushed it away.

  “I don’t know you,” he said. “You don’t know me.”

  “We have known one another for millennia,” it said in their secret language. “We are brothers. We are legion.”

  “Legion of what?” Though Nick believed it was lying, he paused in his grief, his curiosity rising.

  It smiled. “You do not remember and perhaps you should not. The reincarnation has always been a difficult transition.”

  Nick thought it must have been hallucinating as it lingered on the edge of death. Perhaps it was recounting something from its past, maybe it perceived Nick as something similar to a being from a prior encounter.

  “Who do you think I am?” he asked.

  “You are...” It trailed off and it looked afraid. “I cannot speak your name. Please do not consume me. I relent; you are my master.”

  Nick understood in that moment that Kim had not been the creature’s true undoing. Yes, she had harmed it, but the rabisu had truly believed it could have recovered. There was something about Nick that had invaded that wound, had infected the rabisu and its new kin.

  Nick had destroyed this nest of creatures, despite not knowing how.

  There was movement somewhere behind him and he turned to see a woozy-looking Phoebe tugging at a door. She got it open and Leonard, a tremendous red knot on his head, stepped out. They both saw him and held onto each other as they came over.

  “Who?” Nick pointed at his chest, looking at the rabisu. It was no longer Cain. That had been a name it had worn for a time just as it had been called something else in a time before that and a legion of names prior.

  “I spared her. I spared your lamb. Spare me!” It licked its lips, the semi-forked purple tongue there and gone. Nick grabbed its arm and it felt light and frail, like Styrofoam. “Neph... Neph...”

  It looked up at Leonard and opened its mouth. The rabisu attempted to scream, but lost its voice. The old man, who was suddenly a lot younger, knelt and placed his hands on its chest. Leonard opened his mouth and breathed in a long breath that seemed to pick up wind from the entire room. In seconds it was over and the rabisu was nothing more than a gray, hollow shell.

  “Everything he says is a lie,” Leonard said after a long coughing fit. “It was how he tricked me into being his receveur.” He looked at Pearlanne’s peaceful face. “We should leave now.”

  Nick opened his mouth to protest, decided not to speak. It seemed wrong somehow to leave the place where Pearlanne had died, though he had no real reason to stay here.

  He still had strength enough to pick her up and carry her himself. Phoebe kept glancing at him, nervously, he thought, and Nick tried to tell himself he didn’t care. He was carrying a dead woman in his arms. Someone he’d barely known and for some reason had quickly grown to care about.

  Nick felt something wounded inside him wall itself away and he let it. Tears streamed steadily from his eyes and that was the only indication even to him that Pearlanne’s death mattered.

  “Is he... is he safe?” Phoebe finally asked. Nick felt relief at the sound of her voice instead of the white noise in his mind.

  “Yes,” he said, not looking at her. “Dolph has him outside.”

  “Oh, thank God. Thank God!” Phoebe clapped her hands together once, putting them to her mouth. “Thank you, Nick.” Her voice had dropped to almost a whisper.

  Leonard led the way down the escalator steps, looking taller and younger with each passing second. By the time they reached the front door Nick would have guessed him at around fifty.

  Phoebe and Leonard worked on getting the doors open so Nick could step through without cutting Pearlanne’s body on the broken glass. They stepped through and were greeted by a several teams of military-looking types in full gear and rifles pointed in their direction. Nick scanned the crowd, looking for Dolph and the others.

  “Put your hands up and get on your knees!” a voice shouted, though he couldn’t tell who had given the order. The three of them looked at each other.

  Leonard led by example, lacing his fingers behind his head and putting a foot back as he lowered to one knee. Phoebe licked her lips nervously, her
eyes darting throughout the crowd, but she did the same.

  Nick knew he should have too. He wanted to be far away from here. Unless Pearlanne’s mother was already dead, she had no parents. She deserved better than whatever they would do to or with her body. Nick had no presumptions that they would bury her in some military cemetery. He’d seen enough vamps die in the Pens in his brief stay to know how little respect her body would be treated with. They would draw specimens for testing and leave her body to the elements to see if it would decompose. He’d seen that much with his own eyes and he’d heard the rumor that after they were done, they would chop her head off. Just to be certain she wouldn’t turn.

  He was sure he had enough strength left to fly, maybe even enough to survive being shot if they decided to do that. Someone warned him he would be shot if he didn’t comply. Nick barely heard. Instead, he glared at the soldiers in black. He would get down on his knees and place his fingers behind his head. On his own terms, though.

  Nick began to walk down the stairs.

  “Nick!” Phoebe whisper-shouted. “No!”

  He ignored her and took the next step. He was warned again and kept his expression iron, hoping he looked as murderous as possible. He hated these perfect strangers, these men and women who would facilitate the butchery of a human corpse.

  Of a hero.

  Nick took one final step. There should have been words spoken here. She deserved a eulogy. He slowly anchored her to the ground, unable to raise himself from his bent position.

  “I’m sorry, Pearlanne.” Nick kissed her cheek. And then her lips. “I’m so sorry.”

  Chapter 6

  Friday

  When he was released, Nick was surprised to see Phoebe and Dolph waiting for him. It had been two weeks since he'd seen them, three days after he'd been brought to this place. It hadn't been as bad as he would've expected and Nick suspected Dolph may have had something to do with that.

  He couldn't help the smile creeping up the corner of his mouth. Nick had a flash of memory of one Christmas morning after all the presents had been unwrapped and his father telling him to go to his closet. There had been something he had needed Nick to grab and when he'd gotten there, Nick had seen a brand new ten speed with a bow on it. He was probably smiling now the way he had smiled then.