Blue Shadow

by Brad Magnarella

  For a jagged instant, my mind replaced the image of a bull with Billy, my childhood friend.

  “When the clown looked over at him, Nicho saw a monster,” Sarah continued. “The sight scared him so badly he ran. But he became lost, so he hid out that night and for the next day. He said that’s when the wolfman found him.” Sarah adjusted her glasses. “He means you.”

  “Yeah, thanks. I got that. Did he see anything else?”

  After speaking to him, she said, “Just the shadow that ate Takara.”

  I dragged a hand through my hair as I got up to pace the room. “Something doesn’t add up. If the vampires are preying on children, why is Nicho still with us? There’s no way he outran that thing. So either he’s lying—and I’m not picking that up—or the vampire let him get away.”

  “Or he was protected,” Sarah said.

  I followed her gaze to the cross pendant dangling over the boy’s chest. “The other day you told us crosses couldn’t protect someone against a vampire,” I said. “You called it a myth.”

  “It is, unless the cross is imbued with power.” When I narrowed my eyes at her, she added, “The section on magical artifacts was scheduled for week four. I was going to cover it in detail.”

  “Yoofi?” I said.

  Nicho flinched as Yoofi bent toward his necklace, but I patted the boy’s back to assure him it was all right. “Hmm,” Yoofi said after a moment. “Hard to tell without Dabu, but I don’t feel anything in the metal.”

  I took my turn to inspect the cross. It looked like cheap nickel silver. Embossed on the back of the cross’s horizontal beam were the words THE SACRED LAMB. On the vertical beam, MODESTO, CA.

  When I read them out loud, Sarah nodded. “The Sacred Lamb is a California-based Pentecostal church that does outreach work down here,” she said. “I came across them in my research on the region.”

  “What’s their stance on magic?” I asked.

  “Strongly against,” Sarah said. “Which would seem to rule out magical protection.”

  I released the necklace and tapped Nicho’s chin lightly with a knuckle, making him smile. “So why else would a vampire leave him alone?”

  “Maybe the vampire was too full from bull,” Yoofi suggested.

  “Yeah, maybe,” I said. “Or maybe the vampires have a special taste for the kids in El Rosario. Look at the map—villages dot the region. Strange that none of them have been targeted.”

  Though Sarah’s face remained flat, I could tell she was working out the puzzle.

  “All right, let’s review what we know,” I said. “A group of vampires have appeared in the area. At least one of them is a magic-user. They’ve lured eight kids from El Rosario—and only from El Rosario—into the woods in the last month. And then the vampires are teleporting them … somewhere. Finding out why they’re concentrating on El Rosario could put us one step closer to an answer.”

  A knock sounded on the front door. “It’s Mayor Flores,” she called from outside.

  I put on my helmet and gloves, checked the monitor, and let her and the police chief inside. Both entered wearing rain jackets even though the afternoon monsoon was now spent. The mayor carried a basket, steam leaking from a colorful cloth that covered the basket’s contents.

  “I brought tamales for your dinner,” she said, setting the basket on the table. She glanced at Nicho, a question in her eyes, before turning to the rest of us. “How did it go today? We heard the shooting in the mountains this morning, then saw the helicopters come and leave.” Hope lifted her voice.

  “The operation is ongoing,” Sarah said stiffly.

  I rolled my eyes. For the sake of Centurion’s reputation, she wanted the mayor to believe we were still in control of the situation. But we weren’t, and I knew from experience that there was no quicker way to lose the confidence of a client than for them to find out you’ve been lying to them. If we were going to salvage the mission, we needed to shoot straight with one another.

  I stepped forward. “We didn’t find the children or where they had been taken. We did, however, make contact with one of the creatures. A vampire. That was the shooting you heard. We injured the vampire, nearly killed him, but he disappeared. One of our teammates went missing as well. The helicopters were a backup force I called to help search for her. I suspended the search with the coming night so we could focus on the ultimatum.” I had been thinking about that on the ride back here. Knowing the vampires’ next move could be an advantage.

  Mayor Flores shared the information with Juan Pablo, who nodded gravely. Maybe because of their traditional beliefs, they didn’t question the notion of vampires. “And this boy?” she asked. “I have see him in town before, but I don’t know him.”

  “We found him in the woods.” I then gave a succinct account of how he’d come to be there. “Is there someone in El Rosario who can take care of him tonight?”

  Following another exchange with the police chief, the mayor said, “Juan Pablo’s family can take him. They have clean clothes in his size and a spare bed. Juan Pablo will drive him back to his village in the morning.”

  As Mayor Flores explained to Nicho what was going to happen, the boy looked up at me. I ruffled his hair and nodded that it was all right, that he would be safe. He stood from his chair and followed Juan Pablo. The police chief paused at the door, searching his pockets.

  “Over here,” I said, lifting the car keys from the table and tossing them to him.

  He gave an embarrassed laugh as he caught and pocketed them, and then thanked me in Spanish. Given Juan Pablo’s absentmindedness, I hoped the boy would be safe with him.

  “It’s very lucky he wasn’t taken,” Mayor Flores said when Nicho and the police chief had left.

  “Or maybe there’s something more at work besides luck,” I said. “Is there any reason you can think of why a boy from the next village would be, I don’t know, passed over in favor of a child from El Rosario?”

  The mayor’s brow furrowed as she shook her head. “No. They are indigenous, like us.”

  “Do the villagers around here have much contact with El Rosario?” I asked.

  “Yes, most of them come here on market days to buy and sell.”

  I racked my brain. There had to be something that differentiated them.

  “How about culturally?” Sarah asked. “Do they participate in the festival?”

  “Oh, nooo,” she said emphatically. “They stay away that week.”

  Bingo, I thought. “Why?”

  “You have seen our church in the town center. It is a Catholic church, built hundreds of years ago. One reason Catholicism became established here was because our people were not made to choose. The first missionaries allowed the people to worship their own gods and ancestors alongside God and the Catholic saints. That is why, during the festival of St. Paul, we reenact the great myths.”

  “And that’s also why the villagers stay away,” I said, thinking of the cross around Nicho’s neck. “They became Evangelicals.”

  “Yes, the Sacred Lamb came in the 1950s. They made few inroads in El Rosario, but were able to convince several villagers that the traditional ways were evil. Those villagers became charismatic pastors, and the belief spread throughout the countryside.” She paused. “Do you think they are involved in this?”

  “Have there been any conflicts between the villages and town?” I asked.

  “Some arguments from time to time, but nothing violent. Nothing like this.”

  “Are any of the pastors especially outspoken?” I followed up.

  “There is one,” she said. “A man named Salvador Guzman. He lives in the village of Salamà. He comes here on market days and preaches over a sound system. No one listens to him, though.”

  Sarah looked over at me, one eyebrow raised in question. The information could explain why El Rosario was being targeted and not the villages, but I couldn’t figure out exactly how. Believing strongly enough in the evil of the old ways might have moved someone
like Salvador Guzman to violent action, but contracting vampires seemed a dramatic—and suicidal—way to go about it. I thought about taking a trip out to Salvador’s village, but I didn’t like the idea of traveling at night. Anyway, the clock was ticking on the vampires’ ultimatum.

  “When’s the next market day?” I asked.

  “Tomorrow,” the mayor replied, “though the crowds have been smaller since the disappearances.”

  “Do you think Salvador will come?”

  “Oh, yes. He has been using the tragedy to strengthen his message. He says we are being punished for our beliefs.”

  “We’ll talk to him then, but first we need to plan for tonight.” I checked my watch. “We have just under five hours until the vampires expect El Rosario to leave a child across the river. Don’t worry, that’s not going to happen. All of El Rosario will be safely indoors.”

  “We are going to defy them?” Mayor Flores asked worriedly.

  “Not exactly.” I turned to Yoofi. “Will you be able to cast again by tonight?”

  He had been puffing fervently on a thick cigar while we’d been speaking. “Yes, I think so.”

  “Good. I have a plan.”

  14

  MP88 tight in my grip, I crouched at the edge of a tree line on the outskirts of town and scanned the parade ground. The large moon behind the cloud ceiling cast the old military base in a haunting light. I checked my watch: 23:50, ten minutes until the vampires’ midnight deadline.

  “Everyone in position?” I whispered.

  “Yes,” Olaf answered from the tree line two hundred meters away.

  “I’m overhead,” Rusty said. I had already heard the whirring of the hovering drone. He was controlling it from our compound back in town.

  “We are ready,” Yoofi said. He, the mayor, and the police chief were in a house across the river from the base.

  “You sure?” I pressed him.

  “Yes.”

  “I can see the manifestation through the window,” Sarah put in. “It looks solid.”

  Yoofi had spent the rest of the evening giving copious smoke and alcohol offerings to Dabu, praying that he be allowed to cast through him. At the eleventh hour, when I was on the verge of switching to our fallback plan, Dabu had relented. If Yoofi or Dabu fumbled now, the operation would be a bust.

  “Move out,” I said.

  A door opened across the river. Footsteps sounded on the bridge. Moments later, Mayor Flores and a young girl came into view at the edge of the old base. The girl was wearing a traditional dress and embroidered white blouse, her black hair pulled tightly back in braids. The detail was impressive. My wolf vision even picked up a small heat aura around her.

  When they arrived at the center of the parade ground, the mayor said something to the girl in Spanish, showing her hands for the girl to stay. The girl peered around in fear at the thought of being left there alone. She let out a whimper, the whites of her eyes shining large in the night.

  “Don’t oversell it,” I whispered.

  Mayor Flores gave the girl a final regretful look, then turned and hurried from the base and back across the bridge. The girl remained on the parade ground as she’d been told. Hands clasped at her chest, she alternately looked into the woods that crowded the edge of the old base and down at her sandaled feet. It was a convincing show, even to someone like me who knew the girl was an apparition.

  Now we just had to hope the vampires would buy it too.

  Seconds ticked by. I listened into the woods. Except for the occasional drip from the day’s rain, the trees were silent. I checked my watch again, then took mental stock of our positions. Olaf to my right; Yoofi directly across the river from me; Sarah across the river from Olaf; and Rusty a couple thousand feet overhead. We had the parade ground boxed in with enough firepower to deal serious damage to whatever set foot inside it—living or undead.

  I was still kicking myself for allowing the vampire to escape earlier in the day. Won’t make that mistake again, I thought, glancing down at the line of metal stakes sheathed in my tactical belt. A stake through the heart, and a vamp would go into shock. By the time the stake was pulled, I would have him hog-tied in the razor wire I had packed in a Kevlar pouch. Then we’d get some information—namely where Takara and the children were.

  The apparition of the girl blinked in and out.

  “What’s happening?” I asked, tension deepening my voice.

  “Dabu is sensing the evil again,” Yoofi said. “Not as strong as this morning, but still strong.”

  “You need to hold it together for just a little bit longer,” I said, checking my watch. Two minutes till midnight.

  “I will try,” Yoofi groaned through the feed.

  “I’m seeing movement,” Rusty said suddenly. “The camera can’t penetrate the tree cover, but there’s some serious rustling going on. Something’s coming down the hill and coming fast.”

  “Trajectory?” I said.

  “Straight for the parade ground.”

  I listened until I could hear what sounded like a crunching stampede through the woods. The sound was soon accompanied by frothing breaths and snarls. Vampires? I didn’t think so. Whatever was coming sounded more animal than human—and they were numerous. Were they here for the child, or was this the promised punishment for not delivering the child? Adrenaline dumped into my system as something told me the second.

  “We’re about to have company and lots of it,” I said, checking that my rifle and grenade launcher were both charged. “Rusty, lock on as soon as you have a visual. Olaf, pull in a little. They’ll be coming right between us. Sarah and Yoofi, don’t let anything cross the bridge.”

  I stood and peered into the woods where the savage sounds grew by the second.

  “They’re splitting,” Rusty said. “Got a group heading toward Wolfe and another toward Olaf.”

  Crap.

  Within another few moments I could see them: dogs. But not the man’s-best-friend variety. These had been transformed into undead monsters. Their eyes glowed a sickly green as bits of foam flew from their mouths. I remembered what the police chief had said about the recent drop in the stray dog population. No doubt we were looking at the explanation.

  “Undead dogs,” I said. “Aim for their heads.”

  We had learned in training that while killing a vampire required cremation or decapitation in most cases, a vampire spawn could be put down via massive brain trauma. And we definitely had the means.

  I took aim at the front of the pack charging through the trees and released a burst of automatic fire. The lead dog fell as incendiary rounds blew chunks of flesh from his chest before taking off half his head. I heard the first shots coming from Olaf’s rifle as well. I switched my aim, squeezing off bursts as their sinewy bodies flashed in and out of view. But for every dog that succumbed to one of my explosive assaults, four more seemed to bound into its place. When the pack was less than a hundred meters away, I decided there were too many.

  “Olaf, fall back!” I ordered. “Rusty, hit them when they come out!”

  The two radioed back their understanding as I took off at a sprint. The girl still stood in the center of the parade ground, but I doubted she was fooling anyone. Yoofi kept up the ruse though, having her flinch away from me as I bounded past her. Off to my right, Olaf moved at a lumbering run. Dogs were just beginning to pour from the woods behind him.

  “Missiles incoming,” Rusty announced.

  A series of explosions shook the ground and lit up the night. Undead dogs yelped and flipped through the air, many of them in parts. But more plunged through the dissipating balls of fire and kept coming. I was nearly to the far side of the parade ground when the dogs bounded past and through the apparition of the girl, reinforcing my theory that no one had been fooled.

  Dammit.

  More missiles exploded along the tree line. “I’ve shot my load,” Rusty said. “Sweet Jesus, there are a lot of ’em.”

  I stopped long enough to
pick off two dogs that were almost to Olaf, but I had my own pack in pursuit. A glance back showed me the slavering mass of at least twenty of them. I turned so that I was running backwards, switched to my flamethrower, and released a sweeping jet of pressurized napalm. The charging dogs went up in plumes of fire. That slowed and confused them, but they kept their feet, making them look like hellhounds.

  “Keep going, Olaf!” I called as I cleared the parade ground.

  A dog had latched onto the back of his neck, and he was reaching over his shoulder to punch his combat knife into its head. I maintained a steady stream of napalm on the pack coming for me. Another dog got its teeth into Olaf’s arm, but like an All-American fullback, Olaf churned on.

  The instant he cleared the parade ground, I hit the detonator pinned to my tactical vest. The Claymores we’d placed around the field thudded loudly, blowing shrapnel and silver powder into the pursuing dogs. I swapped for a fresh rifle mag and began lighting up fallen creatures where they kicked and writhed. Having dispatched the two dogs attacking him, Olaf did the same. As the smoke began to drift off, the parade ground looked like a slaughter house.

  But another wave of dogs were pouring from the woods.

  “How many mutts did the vampires drain?” Rusty asked in disbelief.

  “Enough to make the town ‘know death,’” I said, quoting the vampires’ note. I switched my trigger finger to the automatic grenade launcher and fired a volley in the path of the arriving dogs. The explosions blew apart several of them, but the carnage only seemed to excite the ones bounding in behind them.

  “It gets better, Boss,” Rusty said. “We’ve got packs coming in from the north and south now too.”

  “Go,” Sarah said to me. “We’ll take care of these.”

  I looked across the river. Yoofi stood on the rooftop of the house in which he’d created the apparition of the girl. He grimaced, and a coiling black bolt shot from his staff and blew apart an especially large dog. Sarah was on the roof of the house across the street, seated behind a heavy .50 cal machine gun. I nodded. This side of town was in good hands.