Blood Heavy: Ascension

by S. L. J. Shortt

  Blood Heavy

  Ascension

  By S.L.J. Shortt

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying or otherwise without the prior permission of the author.

  First published in Great Britain 2012.

  ©2012 Sam Lewis John Shortt

  All characters are fictitious. Any similarity to any persons alive or dead are purely coincidental.

  The right of S.L.J. Shortt to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted to him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents act 1988.

  Cover design and photography ©2012 S.L.J. Shortt

  Self published by S.L.J. Shortt CT6 5PH.

  Prologue

  1 – Scorched Earth

  2 – Mind Games

  3 – The Norm

  4 – The Ninja Thing

  5 – Case Workers

  6 – Bullet Ballet

  7 – A Bust

  8 – Giblets

  9 – Lovers In League

  10 – Meet The New Boss Same As The Old

  11 – Car Trouble

  12 – Avenging Angel

  13 – Bang-Flash

  14 – Heaven and Hell

  15 – Have Faith

  16 – A Monsters Worst Nightmare

  17 – Keep the Faith

  18 - Lock down

  19 – Back to Hospital

  20 – Scanners

  21 – The Devil You Don’t Know

  22 – Mood Swings

  23 – Battle Plans

  24 – Submission

  25 – Blood for Blood

  26 – The Game

  27 – The End Of Normal

  PROLOGUE

  Outside Galena - Alaska

  The high winds and heavy flurries made visibility poor but Sasha knew she was being followed. Super strength and speed didn’t mean much when you had to trudge your way through three feet of snow. That combined with the fact that she hadn’t fed in two days was making it easier for the mystery man to catch up with her. Her dark hair was matted and frozen from snow and even had small icicles in it.

  If this guy was looking for a fight it wouldn’t go well. Out in the open in the middle of a virtual blizzard would make any kind of battle difficult. She needed to get the terrain on her side.

  She pushed forward heading towards the dark rocky outcroppings in the distance. Getting close to the mountains would at least shield her from the wind and make it easier for her to focus on the man behind her. She ended up getting luckier than that.

  As she approached the rocks she noticed a small opening about the size of a train cart. The cave was probably occupied by a polar bear or something which was also good because it meant she might be able to have a quick snack before confronting the person following her.

  There was zero light inside the cave but that didn’t matter to her. She hurried in, getting away from the wind and blowing snow. She listened out for any signs of life but found none. Obviously the animal that lived there wasn’t home right now.

  She ventured in about twenty feet and turned, watching the entrance. A few seconds later she heard the crushing sounds of feet stepping on snow. A moment later a man arrived at the cave entrance. He was covered in furs and rags and his face was shielded by a hood and a scarf that was pulled up to his nose. The cold didn’t bother vampires but humans couldn’t say the same. The low thumping nose that was coming from his chest confirmed her suspicions. He was human.

  He didn’t enter the cave, instead he pulled a small plastic bottle from underneath his furs and tossed it inside. It rolled in front of her and her eyes immediately locked on to the red substance inside. She was so hungry that she didn’t hesitate in grabbing the bottle and twisting the cap off. She took a quick whiff of what was inside. It wasn’t human, smelt more like cow or pig but it would do. She chugged down the blood and instantly started to feel better.

  The man in the entrance watched closely as she drank. After a few moments of staring at each other and the man entered and walked towards her. He crouched down and removed his hood. As he did, a rosary slipped out of his sleeve and hung from his wrist. “I’m not here to hurt you,” he said.

  He was in his mid or late thirties with messy stubble covering his jaw. He had a few small scars on his face and piercing blue eyes.

  “As if you could,” Sasha snarled.

  “I’m no stranger to vampires. I know your kind well. What I’d like to know is why that mark on your face isn’t healing,” he said, not intimidated.

  Sasha turned away trying to hide the horrible burn streak on the left side of her face. It ran from her forehead all the way down to her chin. “I don’t know,” she grumbled.

  “Well, let me take a guess. The person that did that to you was a woman?”

  Sasha didn’t respond but the look of fear that suddenly flashed across her face was enough.

  “And she was about the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen? She had powers way beyond anything you know?”

  Sasha nodded, remembering the woman that scarred her.

  “Why did she let you live?” the man asked. “She hates vampires, well; she hates everything that isn’t human. And us, well, she thinks about us in the same way that we think about puppies. Cute and fun to play with.”

  Sasha took another swig of blood before answering. “She wanted me to give a message.”

  “To who?”

  “Everyone.”

  “What message?”

  “Daniel Jericho belongs to her,” she said.

  “Who’s Daniel Jericho?” he asked looking very interested.

  “He’s a kid. His bloods got something in it, something that makes us stronger.”

  He took a moment to think and the answer was obvious. Wherever the kid was, that’s where she would be.

  “Where can I find him?”

  CHAPTER 1 – SCORCHED EARTH

  St. Cloud – Minnesota

  Down on the Street by The Stooges was playing inside the Nearly Departed. At this time of the day, it was pretty quiet. There were no dancers on stage and only a few patrons (ones that could walk around in the day) sitting around.

  One of them was Frankie Marks, a thirty-five year old exterminator originally from South Boston. He was African-American with black hair that was starting to form an Afro and a large scar underneath his jaw that ran down his neck. Battle scars from a long career. He was sitting at a table enjoying a cold beer.

  About five minutes later, two men that he knew quite well entered the bar. Work colleagues. Usually exterminators worked alone or with people they trusted but occasionally they teamed up on jobs that required a little more fire-power. Otherwise, they didn't play well with others. Too many conflicting methods and egos, but he had worked with these two a few times and they'd gotten along okay.

  They smiled and walked over to him. Harry Denton was the older of the two. He had brown hair and was wearing an old worn out coat while the man next to him, Ellis Adams, had sandy blond hair and was sporting a combat jacket. They were both in their thirties.

  “Hey Frankie,” Harry said taking a seat next to him.

  “Fellas, what bring you two here?” Frankie asked.

  “We got the call about a wraith somewhere in Iowa,” Harry said.

  “Yeah, Red Oak I think,” Ellis nodded.

  “Right,” Frankie nodded, “I got the same call. Afraid we’re a little late.”

  “Huh?”

  “The wraith’s dead,” he said simply.

  “Dead, how, the call only went out like three days ago?” Ellis gawked.

  “The boys took it out.”

  “The boys, what is that cod
e or something?” Harry asked.

  “Jericho and Gibson,” Frankie said.

  “Wait, those two teenage mooks playing cowboys and Indians?!” he said angrily. “Those two yahoos are gonna get themselves killed!”

  “Don’t be so sure,” Frankie shrugged. “They may be young but they’re carving themselves out a pretty heavy rep. You musta’ heard about that Strigoi nest down in Waterloo.”

  “I heard the whole place got shot to shit and blown up,” Harry said. “Wait...that was them?!”

  Frankie nodded.

  “What happened?” Ellis asked.

  “Well, the grapevine tells me that these two guys don’t handle grief very well. After what happened at Newton High School, they were looking for something to take their anger out on and Soph handed them the Strigoi. Five of them went down there and met up with Eddie, but after two weeks of searching they found nada. Strigoi musta’ seen em comin’ because they cleared out of there in a hurry. So they call it a bust and head back to St. Cloud. And As soon as they’re gone, the Strigoi climb out of the shadows and start munching on people again. Big mistake.”

  “Why?”

  “Because Jericho and Gibson never left. They just wanted them to think that they had. Dumbass bloodsuckers led them straight back to the nest. So the boys case the place and call for backup because there’s like twenty-five maybe more in there.”

  “That's a pretty heavy nest. What went wrong?” Harry asked.

  “Nothing. The boys just got a little...impatient.”

  10 WEEKS AGO

  Waterloo – Iowa

  Inside the condemned building, three pale skinned Strigoi were finishing off some poor victim when something pulled their red eyes away. Suddenly two canisters came flying through the boarded up windows of the abandon office block. They exploded sending out blinding light and a deafening crack. Flash-bang grenades!

  The Strigoi took cover and shielded their eyes, there enhanced senses working against them in this instance just as the sealed up entrance was blasted open. Kindling splashed across the floor as one of the bloodsuckers peaked over the ledge they were hiding behind. The doors were simply gone and smoke filled the hole that now stood there. The vampires looked on in shock as they heard someone yell: “WOOHOO!”

  Two dark figures appeared and came out of the smoke like ghosts...or reapers.

  “Word has it that Gibson prefers serious ordinance. Grenades, heavy machine guns, you name it.”

  Goose was wearing two bullet proof vests as was Jerry. He was sporting his favorite M-240 machine gun with drum clip, had two pump action shotguns over his shoulder and a range of different grenades attached to his belt. Over his other shoulder was a large metal canister with a big warning label on it.

  “Jericho prefers a more hands-on approach.”

  He had custom holsters on his back and on his waist, both of which held a pair of silver shock machetes. His sawn-off double rifle was strapped to the left side of his belt just above the handle of one of the blades like a true gunslinger. He also had heavy caliber pistols under each arm and signal flares attached to his stomach.

  “Evening ladies,” Jerry smiled.

  The Strigoi snarled and lunged at them but Goose was ready and cut them down with rapid fire from the M-240. Their enhanced speed was no match for the silver tipped 7.62 millimeter bullets traveling at two thousand feet per second. Empty shells ejected into the air as the bullets tore them to shreds. The rounds wouldn't kill them but the marble sized holes they left in their bodies not only hurt but also slowed them down, especially when a bone was shattered or a tendon was cut. They'd heal up quickly, but not quickly enough. Amidst the gunfire, Jerry walked straight towards them, unsheathing the two machetes attached to his hips.

  He went straight for the wounded vamps that had fallen to the floor and with one single motion, cut the head of the nearest one clean off. Goose continued to spray the room with bullets as more Strigoi arrived from around a corner. There were over a dozen of them that all attacked with the same lightning speed.

  Four of them were torn to ribbons by the M-240’s rounds while two others were immediately met by the strong slash of Jerry’s machetes. They were stronger, faster and could heal from just about anything and yet, they were losing.

  Jerry spun around catching a Strigoi in the chest with his blade before hitting the shock button on the handle, pumping him full of ten thousand volts. He spasmed all over the place as if his whole body had turned to jelly. With a fluid motion, Jerry pulled another machete from over his shoulder and threw it as hard as he could. It sailed through the air and struck a Strigoi that was trying to dodge bullets, nailing his head to the wall.

  With his hand free he pulled the sawn-off canon from its holster and fired. The enormous boom rattled the entire building as the silver Nitro Express round ripped its way through two vampires before blasting a hole in the wall. He fired the other barrel right at the head of another Strigoi. It exploded like a watermelon being hit with a sledgehammer.

  He holstered it again and went back to duel wielding shock machetes, attacking any Strigoi that had been grounded by Goose’s bullets. He began hacking away at them with brutal, merciless force until they were in pieces. He didn't stop until they'd stopped twitching.

  “Of course, these guys are still pretty new to all this and rookies always make mistakes so somewhere during the carnage one of them catches a ricochet bullet in the leg and can barely walk.”

  Goose yelled out as one of his own bullets rebounded and hit him in the thigh bringing him to one knee. As soon as he was down, he yanked a grenade from his belt, pulled the pin and threw it at a group of wounded Strigoi.

  “The others standing next to a window when it explodes and gets his arm shredded to shit by broken glass.”

  The grenade exploded sending shrapnel everywhere. Broken glass daggers flew through the air and struck Jerry in the right arm. Blood spilled out all over the floor.. Little fragments were protruding in half a dozen places from his elbow down to his wrist but he didn't yell out. The shock of seeing his arm looking like a glass porcupine was blocking off the pain but it would hurt like hell tomorrow. The Strigoi barely noticed because he had taken his hormone cocktail to hide the smell of his magic plasma.

  “But none of this stops them from priming a C-4 charge just as the bloodsuckers buddies show up.”

  Goose grabbed the metal canister from his shoulder and turned a large cog on the top of it. A red LED lit up on the side of it and started to count down from sixty. He threw it at the corner where sounds of charging Strigoi were coming from. Jerry rushed over and grabbed his friend, helping him to stay off his wounded leg. The two of them bolted from the scene as fast as they could limp.

  Inside the countdown hit zero just at the Strigoi arrived. It switched to say: BUH-BYE before exploding.

  The entire building went up in a mushroom cloud of fire and debris as the ground shook with the power of the blast. Goose and Jerry hit the deck as shrapnel rained down around them. A moment later and the kaboom had subsided. All that was left now was the shell of a building with fire and smoke pouring into the air.

  Jerry and Goose didn’t bother getting up. They just rolled over onto their backs and glanced up at the damage they’d done. They were bloodied and dirty and began laughing their asses off.

  That was fun.

  NOW

  St. Cloud – Minnesota.

  Harry and Ellis looked at Frankie with shocked expressions. They couldn't quite believe it.

  “Two kids against twenty-five plus Strigoi and they killed them all?” Ellis said in case he’d misunderstood.

  “Yep,” Frankie nodded. “These guys really like their scorched earth tactics.”

  “Scorched earth?”

  “You know, annihilate everything in your path in the most violent and brutal way possible. That way you don’t just kill the bad guys, you scare the shit out of anything else that might wanna take a bite.”

  “That’s a ro
okie move and you know it,” Ellis snorted.

  “Oh, I know but it does work. But you’re right, subtly is not something these two guys practice and little birdies tell me that they’ve already started drawing attention to themselves, and not from our world either,” Frankie said.

  “Cops?” Harry asked.

  “Sophinia owns the cops.”

  “Feds,” Ellis guessed.

  “Bingo. She doesn’t have anyone at the F.B.I. and they’ve started to put two and two together. They’ve linked Gibson and Jericho to both the high school and Waterloo. Now they’re just trying to put the pieces together.”

  “Stupid sonsabitches! They’re gonna get us all locked up!” Harry growled.