Forrest Wollinsky: Predestined Crossroads (Forrest Wollinsky: Vampire Hunter Book 3)

by Leonard D. Hilley II

  He jumped.

  I caught him with both arms as I ran. I didn’t stop running, trying to put as much distance between them and I as I could.

  “Forr—rrest!” Penelope said.

  The two gargoyles that had been stamping their feet were flying overhead. While I was not completely certain, it seemed they had been ramping up speed to get into the air. They weren’t after me though. They were circling over her.

  She hobbled and winced with each step. She had twisted her ankle worse than she had let on. One of the gargoyles swooped downward. She dove toward a tall obelisk gravestone and flung her arms over her face. The gargoyle dipped and careened, trying to miss the pointed tombstone, but the tip pierced through its thin stone wing, cracking it. The slight splintering cracks didn’t shatter the wing but caused the beast to tug the wing inward, and it dropped hard to its side.

  Its heavy impact sank the creature several inches into the ground. It pushed with its massive left stone hand to lift itself, but only rocked back and forth like a tortoise stuck on its back. It appeared it needed both hands to upright itself, but its weight was pinning down its other arm.

  Penelope pulled herself to her feet and placed her back against the tombstone. The grounded gargoyle snorted and puffed like an angry bull, still trying to right itself to get at her. The one in the air circled and was in a downward glide, coming straight at her.

  “Go help her, son,” Father said. “I’ll hide behind a tree since I don’t have any idea how to fight something like that.”

  I put him down. “I don’t know either.”

  “Well, one of us better come up with something or we’re all dead.”

  Penelope watched the gliding gargoyle. With her back pressed against the tombstone, she clung to it, watching—I supposed—to see what it was going to do. While she stood there, I ran back toward the crossroads.

  “What are you doing?” Father shouted.

  I sprinted to the dark robed statue and leaned down to pick up the stone scythe. The weapon was heavy, almost too heavy for me to get my fingers beneath it and pry it off the ground. After I lifted it and wrapped my arms around the section where the curved blade attached to the handle, I drug it down the road toward Penelope.

  The gargoyle widened its wings and circled around, gliding in at a lower descent the second time. The clawed toes on its feet spread out and lengthened.

  “Run, Penelope,” I said, huffing. I hefted the scythe and leaned forward, pressing each step firmly down and pushing off with my feet.

  Penelope glanced toward me and then looked at the gargoyle. It descended fast. I kept rushing toward her, but at the speed it was dropping, if she waited any longer, she was dead.

  The gargoyle aimed at her with its feet, but she rolled out of the way. The winged beast snorted, tried to pull itself upward, but due to its weight, it crashed to the ground. It maintained its balance after running a few steps and turned.

  Penelope crawled toward me. I ran past her, lifting the long scythe and propping it against my shoulder. The gargoyle stood about ten feet in height. It turned toward me, sensing my approach. Its hideous bat-like face contorted. Orange flames blazed behind its eyes. Even with my weapon in hand, the creature held no obvious fear of me. I brought down the scythe and balanced it in both hands, and then I swung my entire body around to get the most momentum for the stone weapon as I could. It didn’t help.

  The long curved blade made of stone, cracked and crumbled when it struck the gargoyle. It hissed and stomped its way toward me. The ground shook beneath my feet. I took a step back when it lunged to grip me with both of its huge clawed hands. Wrapping the stone handle in my arms, I used it like one would use a battering ram against a door, and struck the creature in the center of the chest. A gurgling sound echoed inside its throat that I assumed could be nothing other than sheer laughter.

  I tried to back away, but it grasped the stone handle in its thick hands and yanked. I released the handle or otherwise, it would have pulled me into its reach. It slammed the handle on the ground and it shattered into a dozen pieces. I examined the fragments, but nothing seemed useful enough a weapon for me to claim.

  “Forrest,” Penelope said in a nervous whisper. “The other one is approaching.”

  So we had two gargoyles approaching and neither she nor I had weapons to defend ourselves. The third gargoyle continued struggling on the ground, trying to roll free of the small crater it had created when it had crashed to the ground.

  “Any suggestions?” I asked.

  “I’d say run, but we’re limited to where.”

  I nodded and picked up a stone fragment from the handle. I lobbed it hard at the bat-faced gargoyle in front of me. The fragment struck and disintegrated into a puff of dust. The creature’s brow tightened and its mouth widened, revealing a double row of teeth set inside its jaws.

  I had seen gargoyles atop buildings in many of the countries I had traveled through. Each one was crafted with unique faces, resembling what the artist believed a demon might look like. These were no different, except they were alive. Gargoyles were believed to be guardians to frighten off evil spirits, but these seemed to be possessed by some unseen power, and not one I believed to befriend or protect humans from.

  The gargoyle hissed, flexed its massive wings, and rushed toward me. I attempted to step to the side, but it caught my arm. As heavy as these creatures were, I never anticipated one rushing that fast toward me. It held me firmly in its tight painful grip.

  “Forrest!” Penelope exclaimed, covering her mouth with her hand.

  I gripped the creature’s thick stone finger and tried to pry them apart or at least loosen its grip, but I didn’t possess enough strength. I pulled back and placed my feet against its chest, pushing and pulling and yanking. Nope. It had me.

  It leaned closer, pressing its face to mine. It snorted and chuffed with breath like brimstone. With its free hand it wrapped its fingers around my throat and tightened. Immediately I couldn’t breathe. It had cut off my windpipe and if it tightened anymore, it could pop my head from my shoulders.

  The world was growing dim. Blackness was covering my vision. In desperation, I swung a hard fist into its face, not certain where the strike might land, but I wasn’t going to die without at least trying to fight.

  I hit its nose. It leveled a harsh frown. Those eyes blazed with angry flames. Penelope had picked up part of the scythe blade that still had a curved edge and she slashed at its stone wings. Its eyes widened and it turned toward her. The distraction was enough for it to loosen its grip, but it didn’t release me. I took several deep breaths.

  My ears rang, but faintly I heard stone striking stone. She was still trying to do some sort of damage to the gargoyle but from my angle I couldn’t tell if she was having any success.

  I placed one hand on the forefinger of the beast and the other on its thumb. Using all the strength I had, I couldn’t pull his fingers any wider apart. Penelope groaned and grunted, striking the winged beast over and over, making a dull thwacking noise with each hit. She didn’t seem to be hurting it any, but she was annoying the hell out of it.

  It formed a fist with its free hand and swung around hard and fast. Its fist narrowly missed her, but its long draping wings sliced through the air toward her. She fell backwards, crashing to the ground. If she had waited another second, it would have removed her head from her shoulders. It turned and tried to stomp her. While on her back, she used her elbows and pushed with her feet to crawl awkwardly away, just barely keeping herself outside of its reach. Panic and helplessness claimed her face.

  It swung to the side, using the long trail of its wing to strike at her. For a stone creature it definitely held unpredictable tactics. She kept crawling, scooting away, but the gargoyle refused to allow her escape. It stomped one foot after the other, trying to flatten her, but fortunately she stayed one step ahead of it.

  With my fist I struck the side of the gargoyle’s face again and again. My flailing we
nt unnoticed by the creature as its determination to kill her controlled it. It clutched me closer to its chest without any thought that it was still holding me. I reached for the chiseled crevices between its chest and neck, hoping to find a handhold to get more leverage and pry myself free.

  My fingers caught in a small narrow groove of the stone chain that was carved around its neck. I grabbed hold, pulled, and one of the links cracked and fell loose. A gem about the size of my fist glowed inside the hole. I struck my fist against the opening several times. Bits of dust and rock chunks cascaded from the opening. I hit the gem once more and it slipped from the opening and landed on the ground.

  It craned its neck around and peered at me. Its mouth widened momentarily, revealing its large teeth. A deep intake of air rushed through its mouth. I anticipated a nasty roar or growl, but instead, the creature dismantled at every joint, dropping to the ground in a series of pieces. The fingers clamped around my neck released me and dropped at my feet.

  I rubbed my neck and gulped air. When most of the dizziness passed, I walked to Penelope. I offered my hand and helped her to her feet.

  “What happened to it?” she asked.

  I shook my head. “When I dislodged that gem, it fell apart.”

  She brushed herself off.

  Glancing around, I said, “Where’s the other one?”

  She shrugged and frowned, gazing across the cemetery. “I don’t know. How can something that large move so quickly?”

  “I have no idea.”

  I took the piece of scythe from her and hurried to the gargoyle still stuck on the ground. I walked around so I could see its face. It snarled and swiped at me with its clawed hand but I remained outside of its reach. A chain necklace wrapped around its neck, too.

  Father picked up the glowing yellow gem from the disassembled gargoyle and rejoined us. I was trying to get past the gargoyles claws to strike the necklace on its chest. “Careful, Forrest.”

  “Did you see where the other gargoyle went?” I asked.

  “No.” A winged shadow passed overhead. He looked to the sky. “Ah, it’s in the air.”

  I stepped toward the angered gargoyle and waited for it to swing at me. After it did, I lunged inward and struck the necklace hard. The chain cracked but held in place, not allowing me to dislodge the gem. I shook my head in frustration. I glanced toward Penelope and Father. “I don’t think this one’s getting up anytime soon. While the other one is in flight, we should at least examine the other two crypts for the vampire.”

  Father nodded. “And then what?”

  “We head out through the passageway. I can’t see how this can get much worse.”

  “Hunter!” the deep voice beckoned from near the large angelic statue. It was Philip. Another person stood beside him. Philip shoved the man to his knees and placed a knife to the man’s throat. “Your coachman refuses to tell me where the child is. Tell me where the boy is and your coachman lives.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  “Don’t tell him, Forrest,” Thomas said in a solemn tone. “You know my destiny. And we’re already running behind schedule.”

  I glanced at my watch. It was after eleven a.m. I had never intended to spend this much time at the cemetery. Of course, when you’re fighting to survive, time escapes at a rapid pace, not exactly begging one’s attention.

  “Is this what you’ve been reduced to, Philip?” I asked. “Blackmail and killing innocent people? That’s not the true heart of a Hunter.”

  Blood dripped from Philip’s arm that hung to his side. His fatigued face revealed that he had been injured. By the thorns? Had Philip been the one who had cried out from inside the passageway? He blinked hard and shook his head for several seconds. I wondered if his vision was blurred. He staggered slightly, found his balance, and pressed the dagger against Thomas’ neck. Thomas stiffened. The whites of his eyes revealed his fear of death. Regardless of the coachman’s bravery, he didn’t really want to die.

  Philip glared at me. His scars seemed more prominent than before. He spoke through gritted teeth. “To save humanity from that child’s eventual wrath, I’ll do whatever’s necessary.”

  “Hunters don’t kill Hunters.” I walked toward him, placing my hand on my dagger.

  “Forrest!” Father said in a harsh whisper. “Just tell him where Varak is. Let’s be done with this.”

  I frowned at him and shook my head. Penelope seemed to agree with Father and nodded toward me with pleading eyes. The child had even made her uneasy.

  The darkness in Philip’s gaze consumed him. He was beyond reason. He might have been a good Hunter at one time in his life, but his obsession to kill Varak was akin to pure hate-filled evil. That’s when I wondered if he truly wanted to kill the child, or did he have an ulterior motive? Did he want to use the child to gain power and influence over others, which was something else that went against a Hunter’s credo?

  My mind had sorted through a lot of issues during the past few weeks. I held no doubt that killing undead creatures might eventually tarnish a good Hunter’s soul. But what if more than that had occurred with Philip? What if a Hunter killed an insane vampire that had been without any rationality at all? Hunters absorbed a good portion of a vampire’s memories without any assurance that the memory impressions received would benefit the Hunter. Was it possible to absorb the madness of a mentally disturbed vampire and those mental persuasions overrode the rationality and competency an adept Hunter once had?

  Dominus had probably killed as many vampires as Philip, possibly even more, but had shown none of the alterations Philip was exhibiting. Although I had no way to know, I had to assume at this particular moment that Philip was being controlled by something other than what we Hunters claimed our allegiance to.

  Thomas had done nothing to provoke Philip, and yet the Hunter held a knife at the coachman’s throat. Even if I agreed with Father and wanted to get rid of the child, Philip wouldn’t be the one I’d hand him over to. I wasn’t sure what he’d do.

  “What’s your answer, Hunter?” Philip asked.

  Before I could reply, the gargoyle swooped down from behind Philip and thrashed its talons into the Hunter’s back, knocking him forward before yanking him upward. Thomas dove aside, rolled, and slowly rose to his feet, uncertain of what had happened. Once he realized he had been spared, he hurried to us.

  The gargoyle arced its wings slightly to the right in an attempt to miss an oversized tombstone, but with the added weight of the Hunter, it failed to rise any higher. Instead, it dropped Philip near the robed statue at the crossroads and landed abruptly on the other side of him.

  The Hunter rolled several times and when he stopped, he wasn’t conscious, but for a few moments, I thought he was dead. The gargoyle turned. Its heavy feet thudded as it walked. Its interest was keenly directed at the unmoving Hunter.

  Even with all the threats Philip had made, I couldn’t allow his fate to end here, but the four of us weren’t a match against this gargoyle. It had been sheer luck that I had found a way to destroy the other one.

  I glanced at Thomas. “Are you okay?”

  He nodded.

  “We can’t allow it to kill Philip,” I said, looking at Father and Penelope.

  Father gave me a perplexed stare. “You cannot be serious?”

  “He’s a fellow Hunter,” I replied.

  “One who wishes to kill all of us,” Father said. “Especially you, I might add.”

  “I’m aware of that.”

  “What do you propose?” she asked.

  “Distract the gargoyle. Thomas and I will pull Philip to safety.”

  Thomas shook his head. “I will do no such thing, Forrest. This madman dragged me through the most horrible tunnel and put a knife to my throat. I’d rather face the plague demons Albert has sent after me than to offer any aid to that man.”

  I shrugged. “I can’t say I blame you.”

  Penelope threw a fist-sized rock and hit the gargoyle in the back of the head. It
stopped its approach toward the Hunter and craned its neck around. The next rock struck its flat nose, exploding into a cloud of dust. It growled, widening its mouth, and flexed its wings while forming huge fists.

  The gargoyle roared and marched toward her with heavy steps. She took several steps backwards and winced each time she put her right foot down. Father wrapped his arm with hers to keep her from having to place her weight upon her weak ankle.

  “We distracted it, Forrest,” Father said. “I have no idea what you plan to do, but you need to do something fast.”

  The stone creature’s face contorted with the most evil hideous expressions I’ve ever seen. It hurried toward Father and Penelope, neither of which were able to outrun it.

  What had I been thinking?

  I hadn’t been. I had been reacting without considering they were placing their lives into jeopardy to spare the Hunter.

  Father hobbled, using what strength he could offer to help support her weight. They moved across the leafier section of the cemetery, but the gargoyle didn’t even need to rush to shorten the distance between them.

  She and Father were nearing one of the crypts, but not quickly enough. The gargoyle bellowed deeply, something that sounded like a note of triumph mixed with rolling laughter. It kicked a large swath of leaves out of its path as it strode closer. The ground shook slightly from its awkward steps.

  I scanned the area around me, trying to figure out what I could use for a weapon. The stone scythe hadn’t helped earlier with the other gargoyle, and if a gem kept this one together like the other one, I knew I’d never survive a hand-to-hand fight with it. One stern punch from it would prove fatal.

  Father and Penelope reached the wall of the crypt and turned to look at me. The gargoyle’s right foot stomped hard on the top of a leaf-covered grave. Its enormous weight crushed through the grave plot and sunk. The creature toppled forward and landed facedown. Its huge wings fanned with fury, and it pushed with its hands to stand, but due to its excessive mass it appeared to be unable to get up.