Gidion's Blood

by Bill Blume

  The parking lot Gidion chose turned out to be bigger than he expected. The lot sloped enough to hide his car from the road.

  The rain ensured Dad couldn’t know he was here. This stretch of road was especially dark, too. Gidion considered waiting in his nice warm, dry car. He couldn’t see the road well, and if Dad left, he’d never know it. Even worse, if the assassin attacked Dad in the park, Gidion wouldn’t know until it was too late.

  He pulled up his hood and climbed out of the car. The rain came down harder than when he left Ms. Aldgate’s. That might help him go unnoticed, but it also made it more difficult to see if Dad was in his car once he got across the street.

  Gidion grabbed the swords from the backseat. The katana went through his belt on his left hip. He wore the new wakizashi he’d taken from Grandpa’s on his back, using the same strap that kept his regular sword in place.

  Something told him that if he needed a sword tonight, having two might not be a bad idea. The park also stayed secluded enough to make the katana less of an issue. Now that he considered it, Dad’s decision to take his longer sword with him made a meet in the park a lot more plausible.

  Gidion squinted against the raindrops getting in his eyes as he checked both ways on Woolridge. After he decided the four-lane road was clear, he sprinted for the other side.

  Would be just his luck if a cop decided to come down this road now. Sure, the park would be secluded enough for the katana, but he had to get in it first.

  Once on the other side, he crept up to the trees that blocked his view of the small lot. Dad parked near the back next to a black Mustang, not the typical vampire car given the limited trunk space. Dad might not be meeting a bloodsucker, after all. That begged the question of who or what he was meeting?

  Gidion pushed his way into the trees for a better look. He hoped he wasn’t giving himself away, but the weather wouldn’t make it easy for Dad to notice him. The leaves and branches above him funneled the rain into a miniature waterfall. His clothes had soaked in so much rain, he felt like he wore more water than fabric.

  Deciding Dad’s car was empty, Gidion moved down the treeline to get a better look at the Mustang. The sports car came from South Carolina, going by its license plate. The rental the assassin used came from Georgia, also on the southeastern coast. He wondered if that was a coincidence, or if he was just searching for non-existent connections.

  So with the cars empty, that meant they’d either gone into the park or left in a third car. Gidion assumed Dad planned to meet with one person, but he’d refused to share any details.

  After a short internal debate that amounted to little more than going “eeny, meeny, miney, moe,” Gidion decided to search the park. He found the path to the right of the parking lot’s entrance. A small sign mounted on a pole warned against trespassing after dark. Gidion kissed his fingertips and then pressed the kiss to his chest where the red bat was on his t-shirt.

  The asphalt path lacked any artificial light. It curved to the left and led him under more tree cover. The thick foliage above blocked what little natural light the clouds might have permitted. Sadly, the trees didn’t stop the rain from pelting him.

  He decided to risk the flashlight on his phone, which did little more than brighten his surroundings to a lighter shade of pitch. He kept the light pointed straight down and adjusted the brightness, reducing it to a weak glow. The light improved the chances of a vampire spotting him, but Gidion couldn’t risk stepping off the path into a ditch.

  A short way into the park, the path split, giving him a choice to push straight ahead or turn right onto a narrow bridge. He assumed that would take him back towards Woolridge Road, so he stayed straight.

  He slowed as he neared what looked like a bench on his right. No one was using it. The rain increased its belligerence as the trees cleared to his right. A flash of his light in that direction revealed a small stream running parallel to the path. That made him a bit more cautious as he continued, not wanting to misstep and fall into that water.

  For all his focus on navigating in the dark, he kept puzzling over who Dad was meeting. He also thought about Andrea and how good it felt to kiss her. He really wished he was doing more of that right now and not freezing his ass off.

  He reached a short, wooden bridge where the creek turned to intersect the path. Gidion worried that walking on the wooden bridge would be noisy, but his footsteps on the bridge didn’t make a sound. The path beyond the bridge turned out to be much worse. Dirt and gravel replaced the pavement he’d walked on up to this point. Each step crunched and filled him with panic. He slowed his pace, but it lessened the noise very little. He hoped the loud patter of the rain would conceal his steps.

  Everything about the park placed him at a disadvantage: the darkness, the noisy gravel, and all the potential hiding places. The terrain changed, replacing the ditch on his right with a tall hill. That provided far too many hiding places for a potential ambush. He stopped every few steps to flash his light across the edge of the hill, searching for any movement. The area to his left became more inconsistent, sometimes a steep ditch and then other times a hill.

  The path turned into an incline. The rain ebbed. He stopped as he heard a voice from somewhere over the hill. He couldn’t discern anything being said, but he realized there were two voices. One was Dad. The other belonged to a woman.

  He stopped and turned off his phone’s light, putting it away. The voices continued, apparently oblivious to his presence. He still couldn’t tell what was being said, but he picked up the tone of the voices. Little wonder he hadn’t drawn their attention. They sounded too busy arguing.

  He needed to get closer, but that risked being heard or seen.

  After giving his eyes a chance to adjust to the dark, Gidion crept up the path. He placed each step with care. Just because he’d managed to avoid detection this far didn’t mean his luck would last and made him long for the rabbit’s foot he’d tossed aside in anger.

  He put his phone away and gripped the hilt of the katana. The way he’d positioned the sword on his left hip, the butt of the hilt was almost right in front of his belt buckle. A documentary he’d watched during a History Channel binge had talked about how samurai would quick-draw their swords like gunfighters, waiting until the moment they needed to strike. He didn’t hold much faith in his ability to do that, even if he was wearing the weapon properly, so he drew the sword to have it ready.

  After he reached the top of the hill, he saw down into a clearing. He moved to the right edge of the path to crouch in the shadows of trees.

  Dad and the woman stood near the far end of the clearing, just past some ruins on the right side of the path. What little moonlight made it through the trees illuminated the crumbling structure. God only knew what the building might have been back when the mines were active, although the layout of the bricks and wooden beams that were visible from his position reminded him of a small church. A chain-link fence with barbed wires along the top kept anyone from getting close to the ruined building.

  Dad’s military-grade flashlight, a holdover from his police officer days, provided the only means to see him and the woman arguing with him. Unlike Gidion, he wasn’t trying to hide. Unfortunately, Dad had the light pointed at the ground, which kept any details of the woman hidden.

  Every step Gidion took sounded as loud as thunder to him, so even with the rain in his favor, he stayed put. Much as he wanted to hear what Dad and the lady informant said, he didn’t come for that. All he wanted was to make sure Dad got home safely. He could do that from here.

  The woman yelled louder, letting Gidion pick up bits of words, even if he didn’t catch whole sentences. She sounded desperate. Dad lowered his voice and reached for her neck, but not to grab her. He caressed her throat. The flashlight shifted enough to see a flash of the woman’s long, red hair and a pair of sunglasses.

  Holy shit. Dad was meeting with a shade. The informant was a vampire.

  She spoke, her voice firm enou
gh for Gidion to understand exactly what she said.

  “I’ll do whatever it takes.” Her next two words came out loud and firm. “I promise.”

  Then she kissed him, and it wasn’t the hesitant embrace of a stranger. Dad answered in kind. His arms slid around her, the flashlight pressed against her back.

  Anger burned in Gidion’s chest. If Dad had been within arm’s reach, he’d have hit him. This was a betrayal in every way—to Grandpa, to Mom, to Ms. Aldgate, and sure as hell to him.

  Dad wanted to come without him because of this. How long had this been going on? Back in the gym at Dad’s work, he talked about a fight with Mom. Had this been why? Had she found out about Dad and this shade?

  Was this what got Mom killed?

  He stood. To hell with stealth. He deserved answers, and he was going down there to get them.

  Before he could take the first step, someone else moved. Down the path, just ten yards in front of him, a shadow the shape of a man emerged from the trees.

  More shadows shifted on the path, just beyond Dad and the shade. The beam from the flashlight shifted against the woman’s back and ran over the man rushing from his hiding place along the path behind her.

  Gidion saw two things in that split second. The man was a vampire, and he had a gun pointed at Dad.

  Chapter Thirty

  Vampires pride themselves on their ability to hide in plain sight. Grandpa taught Gidion that when he started his training. That rule came with a caveat: some vampires don’t understand the true meaning of stealth and some are too stupid to give a shit.

  Ever since Gidion started hunting, he’d never run into a vampire with a gun. Tonight, he’d stumbled onto an entire gang of them, and if he didn’t play this smart, he’d get himself and his dad killed.

  Without a word or the war cry he desperately wanted to unleash, he charged up behind the vampire closest to him.

  He issued a silent prayer to God, and a list of need tumbled through his mind in that split second. Don’t let this vampire hear me. Make my aim true. Let this sword’s blade make the kill. Don’t let me get shot. Don’t let me trip. Give me some damn answers. Make me faster. Keep me alive. Give me a chance to do more than just kiss Andrea. Don’t let me get Dad killed. Let those vampires be here for the shade and kill her instead.

  Running up behind the vampire, he lost sight of Dad and the shade. The vampire’s blond buzz cut made the back of his pale neck a clear target. A step too late to stop Gidion’s swing, the vampire heard him and turned. A stray line of moonlight revealed the black handgun in the vampire’s right hand. He never got to aim it.

  The katana’s blade buried into his throat. The swing fell short of completely shaving off the vampire’s head, but the blade made it deep enough. According to Grandpa, the older ones could survive most anything. He claimed one duct taped his throat until his healing ability fixed things. This vampire dropped his gun as he reached for his throat, not that it helped. His body collapsed with the sword still stuck in his neck. Clearly, a younger vampire.

  Gidion almost lost his grip on the hilt as the vampire dropped, but he jerked the sword free in time. He wasn’t interested in taking any heads, though. Not yet. He snatched the fallen gun off the ground.

  He was too late to warn Dad. The vampires had already gotten the drop on Dad but not before he drew his sword. Gidion couldn’t make out the details of the fight, but at least the vampires hadn’t shot him.

  Gidion gripped the fallen vampire’s gun and aimed it at the ground. Much as he wanted to shoot the vampires, he needed to get a lot closer to be sure he hit them instead of Dad. Grandpa had given him enough practice with guns to know how hard it was to aim a gun, even from a short distance. He held his arm as straight and rigid as possible as he braced for the recoil and pulled the trigger. The handgun pushed back, but after shooting Grandpa’s rifle the other night, the recoil was negligible in comparison.

  The noise, however, was not. He wondered if he’d make it through this week without permanent damage to his hearing, assuming he lived that long. He fired the gun three times to make sure it would get the attention of the people living in the neighborhoods around the park. One of the casings bounced off his arm after it ejected from the chamber. The gunshots wouldn’t bring the cops with their lights and sirens, but they should send a lot of people reaching for their phones to call 911. The people in the nearby homes were why he’d also aimed for the ground and not into the air, which would be a fine way to accidentally get someone shot when the bullet fell back to earth.

  He looked back in Dad’s direction. He counted at least four vampires around his dad, not counting the shade. The unexpected gunfire had stalled the fight.

  “Gidion, run!”

  The vampires aimed in his direction. He ran for the edge of the path and hoped the trees might shield him. Through the ringing in his ears, he heard the gunfire and the whistle of the bullets as they whizzed past him.

  “No!” That shout didn’t come from Dad. The shade grabbed one of the vampires by the arm.

  Dad moved faster than Gidion would have ever expected. He charged the closest vampire and slammed the blade of his sword into its throat. He grabbed the shade by her arm, pulling her back to use himself as a shield to protect her from the other vampires.

  Before Dad could attack the other three, the shade pulled out a gun of her own and slammed the butt of the grip into the back of his head.

  “Dad!”

  He crumpled to the ground. The unexpected attack didn’t take all the fight out of him, but one of the remaining vampires pinned him. Dad roared as he struggled.

  Gidion ran down the hill towards them, but then the vampire raised his gun to shoot. The anticipated gunfire forced him off the path and into the woods, running along the edge of the fence wrapped around the ruins. To Gidion’s surprise, the gunshots never followed. He heard the shade yell something again, but couldn’t make it out this time. The only thing he felt certain of was that she was the one giving the orders.

  Not knowing what else to do, Gidion ran around the ruins, along the outside of the fence. From what he’d seen, that would bring him out on the far side of the ruins and just a few feet from where Dad was. He might make it close enough to catch them by surprise and kill the remaining vamps. His plan also risked that the vampires might surround him. If he ran fast enough, he might turn that against them, split them up and make the kills.

  The rain-soaked mud sucked at his shoes as he ran. He still had the gun in his right hand, but as long as he held it, then the sword in his left was of little use and the gun wouldn’t kill a vampire. That was another of Grandpa’s warnings. Guns only wounded a vampire. You needed a powerful shot to do any damage that lasted more than a few seconds. Unless you hit them in the eye, the jugular or the heart, you might as well throw pebbles.

  Gidion ran behind the ruins. From here he saw the rectangular glow of the nearby homes’ windows. He couldn’t decide if he was better off with the people in those houses calling the police. So far, the only kill belonged to him, so odds favored he’d be the one to go to jail, if he got caught.

  Nearby lightning blinded him for a split second. Thunder shook the ground. For the first time, he wondered if anyone had actually heard the gunfire through this storm.

  Then he rounded the next turn along the fence, which placed him on the far side of the ruins. That gave him his first warning. He should have run into one of the vampires by now, if they’d tried to surround him. They could see in the dark far better than he could and would have moved much faster. When he made it all the way to the path, another flash of lightning struck, giving him a clear view of the area. No sign of Dad, the shade, or the other vampires. He didn’t even see the one Dad had sent to the ground.

  “Dad!” He hoped Dad might be alert enough to respond, but he didn’t answer. Instead, Gidion found himself trying to guess which way the vampires went. Only now did he realize he’d surrendered the path to them. Running into the woods had given
them a clear shot at reaching the parking lot without a fight, but he didn’t expect them to move this fast.

  He had a choice: push deeper into the park or run for the parking lot. The latter made more sense to him, so he headed back the way he’d come. He tossed the gun into the woods. At this point, it wasn’t helping him. The vampires must be carrying his dad, so he couldn’t risk a shot anyway.

  He ran over the hill, the path curving. The wind picked up, and the rain dropped in buckets. He raised his hand to block the water from his eyes, his drenched hood rendered almost worthless for protection. More lightning offered him a clear view down the empty path. He reached the bridge. His footfalls were loud slaps against the wood and then the welcome asphalt once he made it to the other side.

  He stopped when he reached the turn with the first bridge going towards Woolridge that he’d seen earlier. For what little good it did him, he used the flashlight on his phone to look down the path towards the parking lot and then the bridge to his left. His light reflected off something down the bridge.

  Running onto the bridge, he realized it was Dad’s sword. Gidion slid his sword into its scabbard. Had Dad caused them to drop it, a breadcrumb for Gidion? They might have decided stopping to retrieve it was too risky, but just as likely was that they’d tossed it here to lead him down the wrong path. Worst of all, it might be a distraction to make him stay still long enough to shoot him.

  The last possibility forced him to crouch and do a quick 360, looking for any signs of attack. He didn’t see anyone, though. Gidion slid his sword into the scabbard. He couldn’t behead a vampire with a one-handed swing, so he decided to stick with Dad’s katana for now.

  Gidion stayed with the bridge. He ran as carefully as possible to avoid tumbling over the side into God only knew what muck. The light of a house appeared to the left as he reached the end of the bridge. His fear of being spotted by anyone not involved in this mess forced him to slow. He rounded a curve in the path and reached a fork. One led up and to the left going past a large house into the neighborhood. The other direction went down a tunnel, running underneath Woolridge Road and connecting it to the other side of the park where he’d left his car.