Holier Than Thou (The Tome of Bill)

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Holier Than Thou (The Tome of Bill) Page 29

by Rick Gualtieri


  Instead, she had handed me a small glass vial filled with a thick red liquid.

  “Is this...”

  “My blood, beloved. You may find it useful in the coming conflict. I would be honored if you would add my strength to your own.”

  To say that I was infinitely more than creeped out would be an understatement. Sure, other vamps had freely given me their blood in the recent past, more than once while in Canada, but this was different. Those times had been practical. With Gan, it felt disturbingly intimate. An involuntary shudder passed through me at the very thought.

  Still, fucked up or not, I had to admit that it could come in handy. Gan’s age alone made her powerful, but her perpetual state of puberty made her special amongst vampires. I wondered if that would be transferred to me as well and immediately wanted to slap the shit out of myself for the thought. Then again, what if I refused and we wound up in a situation where I could’ve saved my friends...I could’ve saved Sheila...if I only had that extra little jolt?

  In the end, logic had won out over good taste and I had pocketed it, vowing to only use it in an emergency.

  Being that Tom was insane, Ed was dying, we were outnumbered, and - oh yeah - Remington had decided to give special attention to killing my ass, I decided that this might - just might - constitute something close to an emergency.

  I popped the cap on the vial and sucked it down just as Remington grabbed the neck of my jacket and dragged me to my feet. It wasn’t a lot, just a few drops, but I could feel it hit my stomach like a grenade. It wouldn’t last long, but hopefully I wouldn’t need it to - especially since I didn’t know whether I would inherit a bit of Gan’s crazy as part of the deal.

  Remington spun me around and my fist immediately shot out, faster than I would have thought possible, catching him square on the chest. He flew through the air, hitting the slushy rooftop and skidding right toward Gan, who stood waiting. I couldn’t see very well with the snow coming down, but I could tell there was a big grin on her face. Goddamn, I was never going to live this one down.

  Oh well, neither was Remington if she had anything to say about it. I guess I could live with that.

  I turned my attention to the others. Christy stood over Ed...make that kneeled over him. Her shield was still up, but it and she were both faltering. One of the other witches, a look of sheer hatred on her face, had turned her power on it and was attempting to break through.

  “Deceiver!” she cried. “You would dare side with these filthy beasts?”

  “Just for the record, my name is Bill, not filthy beast,” I said a split second later, standing right behind her. I’m sure she would’ve had something snippy to say, but I didn’t give her a chance to reply. In an impressive display of unsportsmanlike conduct, I clonked her on the back of the head - knocking her out. Hopefully she’d stay down for the rest of the battle. Heh, I could get used to this super speed thing. I felt like the Flash.

  “Thanks!” Christy gasped.

  “Anytime,” I replied before taking off again. Sheila was busy fighting off the remaining witch, as well as four vampires. Without her sword, she wasn’t able to keep them at bay as well as before, but she was definitely holding her own. Unfortunately, they had her cornered in such a way that she couldn’t finish one off without another moving in to harass her. I aimed to fix that.

  “Over the edge with them all!” Remington cried from behind me.

  That didn’t sound particularly appealing. It was a hundred and fifty feet to the ground. I stopped and looked back. Gan had been approaching the asshole, looking to finish him off, but I saw now that three of his followers were stalking her.

  I turned around and saw they were doing the same to Sheila, inching her closer and closer to the edge. Even if a fall like that didn’t kill them both outright (a big if, especially for Sheila), it would certainly cripple them enough to make them easy pickings.

  Stark realization hit. For all my speed, I couldn’t help them both. So that’s what cruel irony feels like.

  I thought the choice would be a disturbingly easy one, but amazingly I found myself hesitating. For all the trouble she caused, I still couldn’t bring myself to want to see Gan dead. Don’t get me wrong, all of her beloved bullshit wasn’t starting to seep into my brain (yet). Still, she had helped me (and yes, she had also fucked me over quite nicely too). Regardless of how deluded she was, all of her actions toward me seemed to be dictated by love. Sure, it was a twisted, crazy version of love - one that was horribly tainted by an insane lust for power that would, no doubt, get me killed - but it was love all the same. There was also the fact of her being a little girl. Age aside, I always had a soft spot for the kids in horror movies. Maybe I was better off quitting the vampire business and getting a job in daycare.

  Or maybe I was better off paying the fuck attention. An arm encircled my neck in a chokehold. In my enhanced state, it didn’t feel particularly powerful, but it was enough to keep me in place for a second, which is apparently all the owner needed.

  “This is for Night Razor,” Dread Stalker’s voice hissed in my ear. “At last he shall be avenged!”

  I had a sneaking suspicion of what was coming next. I wrenched myself to the side as best I could. It was both just enough and not nearly so. The stake missed my heart (judging by how I didn’t turn to dust), but punctured several of my other favorite organs. I assumed that included my lungs, considering how I suddenly couldn’t even draw breath to scream.

  A gurgle of blood escaped my throat as I tried to shake the asshole off. He held on for dear life, though. Despite the blow not being fatal, he knew it was both debilitating and painful...although perhaps not enough for his liking. I felt him grab the stake and twist it a few times, just to be a dick.

  A fire erupted in my chest...silver. Fuck me! I needed to get it out. It would only be a matter of time before it incinerated me from the inside.

  Unfortunately, both for me and my allies, it proved to be a potentially fatal distraction.

  I heard cries of “Bill!” and “Beloved!” I whipped my head around, taking stock of their respective situations, and saw that things had gone from bad to worse. In my desire to save them both, I had instead doomed them.

  Gan was able to take only a single step toward me before two of Remington’s goons plowed into her in a dive tackle. The impact carried all three of them over the edge. I couldn’t even scream her name. She let out a shriek and then disappeared from view.

  Unfortunately, I also had no time to mourn her.

  To my horror, I saw that Sheila fared no better. She had managed to dust one of her tormentors, but then saw the trouble I was in. Her aura momentarily faltered. The lone remaining witch immediately took advantage of it. A beam of red hot hatred lanced out and struck Sheila full on.

  At the last second, her powers flared around her again, but the impact knocked her off balance. The three remaining vampires grabbed a hold of her and dragged her toward the edge. They ignited almost instantaneously, burning like pyres in the night. As the last of them vanished into ash, though, he threw his full weight against her. It was just enough to overbalance her. She went down, her momentum taking her over the edge.

  “NO!” I cried out, somehow managing to find my voice again.

  * * *

  “The bitch is dead, and now it’s your turn,” Dread Stalker literally spat in my ear. Fucker needed to learn to say it, not spray it. Sadly for him, I didn’t plan on letting him get the chance. He was going to pay for what he had taken from me.

  I was about to try a judo flip to get him off my back (how hard could it be?), but my attention faltered. Something very important had caught my eye.

  Sheila had gone over, but she hadn’t fallen...yet. I could see the fingers of one hand, still barely grasping the ledge. Saving myself could wait. I had more important matters to attend to.

  My insides still burning, I made good use of Gan’s borrowed strength and dove the distance to where Sheila had gone over, carrying Drea
d Stalker with me. I landed on my stomach with the asshole still on top (fortunately I didn’t have any wind left to knock out of me), and slid to the edge. Reaching out, I caught hold of her hand just as she was about to lose her grip.

  “Gotcha!” I gasped right before being immediately engulfed in a world of white-hot pain.

  The ruptured organs and internal damage from the stake were bad enough, but they were nothing compared to the agony that raced up my arm.

  I ignited, the fires of faith determined to devour me, but still I refused to let go. Dread Stalker proved to be smarter than I thought. Realizing what was happening, he tried to disengage from me.

  Oh no you don’t! The second he removed his arm from my windpipe, I bit down with everything I had, holding him in place. The fire that was consuming me, spread to him too, and he began to scream - enough for both of us.

  A savage thought raced through my mind, amidst the pain. Music to my ears, asshole. A funny thing happened then. Though still burning, I noticed it didn’t hurt nearly as badly as it should. A moment later, I realized why.

  The world flashed red and my fangs elongated even further, burying themselves to the bone in Dread Stalkers arm. It was my body’s defense mechanism - against the Icon’s power, against death itself. I was changing.

  No!

  I fought it. If it happened now, all my attempts to save her would be for naught. The second it was finished, I would surely attempt to kill her. Knowing what I was capable of in that state, I didn’t like her odds - disarmed as she was.

  There was no way I was going to allow that. I’d die first.

  Inching to the edge, I looked over. She was there, her body alight with energy. My God, she was marvelous...like an avenging angel. Almost as if in response, the rage flared up, fighting me, but I held onto her visage. There’s only one thing that can conquer such animalist hatred: pure love...or so the fairy tales say. I desperately hoped they were true for once.

  I began to lift her, forcing the rage down - doing all I could to keep the change at bay. I doubled my resolve. I would save her, even if it killed me in the process. She was worth it.

  She was also badass.

  Seeing my predicament, as soon as I had raised her high enough, she lifted her other hand in a fist and swung it over my head. In the space of an instant, all of her power focused on the killing blow. Her aim was true and she connected squarely with Dread Stalker’s chin.

  His body became ash almost instantly. Good riddance, dickhead. Unfortunately for me, I sensed I wasn’t far behind.

  That’s when a curious thing happened. Sheila closed her eyes. A smile lit her face and she let out a small sigh of contentment.

  All at once, the glow around her faded to nothing and with it went the pain. The white hot agony that had consumed me at her very touch was gone. I had managed to control my power and now she was doing the same. Gone was the burning power of faith and for the first time since this began - hell, for the first time ever - I felt her. My hand continued to grasp hers and all I felt was her skin against mine. For something so mundane, it was absolutely incredible.

  I pulled her up over the edge. I must’ve looked like shit, but I smiled nevertheless...right before collapsing. Oh yeah, I was still staked. Goddamn my faulty memory.

  I fell flat on my face, my insides continuing to turn to charcoal. Oh well, this wasn’t such a bad way to go. I kind of felt like Leonardo DiCaprio at the end of Titanic, right after he saved Kate Winslet. Hmm, come to think of it, I had always hated that ending. Oh well. It could be worse. I could’ve been living out the fucking awful finale to Avatar.

  I heard screams and shouts, but they suddenly sounded very far away.

  “Tom!”

  Tom? No, silly. My name is Bill. Jeez, talk about...

  “Hold on,” a sweet voice said from seemingly miles away. “I’ve almost...got it!”

  JESUS MOTHERFUCKING CHRIST ON A POGO STICK!

  Reality came screaming in to fill the void the stake had left. It, along with a good chunk of me, was wrenched free. My senses rushed back, including a massive shitload of pain.

  “Are you alright?” Sheila gently rolled me onto my back, letting the nice, soft asphalt dig into the gaping hole in my backside. Icon she may be, but Florence Nightingale she was not.

  “Peachy,” I strained to say.

  “I’m serious.”

  “So am I...sorta.”

  “That was pretty crazy. You could have, well...you know...”

  “You’re worth it.”

  Wait a second...did I actually just say that? Holy crap, I did! Thank God for getting stabbed, beaten, and almost immolated, because it finally gave my insecurities a chance to take a fucking siesta.

  We had only a scant second, but in that time, nothing else mattered. We enjoyed our moment. Unfortunately, that’s all it was. I remembered that the battle wasn’t over yet. I tried to stand and fell right back down on my ass.

  That’s when I heard the scream.

  * * *

  “You fucking little prick, I’ll kill...urk!”

  It was Sally. That got me moving again. I clawed my way back to my feet in time to see her go skidding across the rooftop, her body still glowing from the attack. I had forgotten we still had one witch left to deal with.

  “Check on your friend. I’ve got this,” Sheila said.

  Her aura flared to life again and she ran off to the right.

  I didn’t want to leave her, but I couldn’t turn my back on Sally. My indecision had already cost Gan her life. I didn’t want to add anyone else to that list.

  I lurched over to find her semi-conscious. The witch had hit her full on, but was apparently low on juice from the continued battle. What should have been a killing blow had merely dazed her, thank goodness.

  I pulled her to a sitting position, and that’s when I noticed the mark on her forehead. It was a circular burn, but it was the image charred into it that caught my eye. Two large windows on its chest and a crude faceplate covering the mouth - Tom’s amulet!

  Still horribly wounded, I stood nevertheless and glanced around. Tom wasn’t where we had lain him down. I looked toward Christy. Still standing over Ed, she was fighting off the last of Remington’s vamps, the strain evident on her face. It was taking everything she had. Her eyes met mine and I saw the panic in them. That’d been her voice I had heard earlier.

  I stepped forward to help her out, but she shook her head. She closed her eyes, gritted her teeth, and the power flared out from her - almost blindingly so. When I could see again, the purple glow was gone, and so were the two vampires. Piles of dust lay where they had stood.

  Christy looked at me, mouthed, “Go!” then her eyes rolled up into the back of her head and she collapsed next to Ed, completely spent.

  That she hadn’t abandoned my roommate, even when she saw her boyfriend wake up, said a lot about her. It was time to return the favor.

  Sally was going to be okay, so I limped over to the other side of the roof. Rounding an air vent, I found Sheila straddled atop the witch, pummeling the shit out of her. Say what you will for magic, but sometimes all that’s needed is a good right cross.

  One last punch and the witch went limp. Well damn, that was easy.

  Oh wait, no it wasn’t.

  I took a step forward and that’s when I heard the click of a slide being pulled. Tom stepped around an air conditioning unit, not ten feet from Sheila’s position, Sally’s Desert Eagle in his hands. He had it pointed at her head. Even a total shit shot like me wouldn’t be able to miss at that range.

  “Tom!” I wheezed, catching his attention. “You don’t want to do this.”

  “You’re wrong, Freewill,” he replied. “She has to die.” Was he really that far gone?

  I needed to reach him somehow. Sadly, even with the last of Gan’s speed, there was no way I’d be able to cross that distance before he could squeeze the trigger. There had to be something...that’s it!

  I remembered what Chr
isty had said. Perhaps a big enough shock could temporarily bring him to his senses.

  “Think about Christy,” I urged. “Think about the baby.”

  “I am,” he said, focusing again on Sheila who had started to rise. “Don’t even think about moving. You’re the cause of all this misery.”

  “She’s not, Tom...I am.”

  “I know. I meant you’re in the collective sense.”

  “Oh. Well...um...this isn’t you. You’re not a murderer.”

  “Maybe you don’t know me very well after all. This is the real me. I’d do anything to protect my child.”

  “The real you...” I trailed off, a thought hitting me. Maybe I was going about it all wrong. I knew Tom. Hell, I had known him for twenty years. I remembered things about him that even he had forgotten. I knew the real him.

  His finger tightened on the trigger. I only had one chance at this. Hopefully I knew him as well as I hoped.

  “I’m glad Optimus Prime got broken.”

  “What?” His eyes shifted back toward me.

  “You heard me. Shit like that’s for immature assholes anyway. What are you, a fucking five year old?”

  He blinked at me, outrage on his face. Holy shit, was it actually working? I needed to crank it up a notch.

  “Yeah. In fact, you know what? I can’t stand any of your toys.”

  “You need to stop...”

  “Once this is all over, you know what I’m gonna do? I’m kicking in the door to your room and taking a blowtorch to every single fucking thing you own.”

  “Don’t even...”

  “Try selling He-Man on eBay when he looks like a hunk of melted shit.”

  “Goddamn it, Bill,” he said, a familiar whining quality entering his voice. “How many times do I have to tell you to not touch my collectibles? Do you know how much money those fucking things are...” He stopped mid-sentence and began to blink rapidly, his stance becoming unsteady.

  After a moment, he shook his head. Finally his eyes cleared and he looked over at me, recognition on his face. “Dude, where the hell am I?”

 

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