Blood Heavy: Ascension

by S. L. J. Shortt

  He grudgingly trudged his way over. He knew she'd just end up whacking him repeatedly if he refused or tried to leave. What had started as welcome training had turned into Cassandras idea of fun and games. She took way too much enjoyment from kicking his ass. Maybe she was still a little pissed that he'd accidentally drugged and slept with her.

  Jerry readied himself. He knew she would take it easy on him but then again her definition of taking it easy on someone was leaving them with the ability to breath without the help of a machine.

  He had barely blinked before she came at him, swinging the training sticks with incredible speed and accuracy. He reacted without thinking, blocking her moves as best he could. He ducked as she swung for his head and tried to sneak in a shot to her stomach but she was ready and spun out of the way.

  He stepped to his right to avoid her next attack but she'd been expecting it and quickly scooped his legs out from under him. The mat may have cushioned some of the fall but he still hit the ground with a nasty thud.

  “For crying out loud Jerry, you're not a palm tree. Uproot your damn feet from the ground!” she huffed.

  He moaned and got back to his feet. Before he was even vertical again, she was on him, sending the two wooden sticks at whatever part she could. To his credit, only a handful of humans would have been fast enough to even block some of her moves so he wasn't doing too badly but the point she was trying to make was that it wasn't good enough.

  She landed a hit against his arm which only felt like a graze at first but was followed by a delayed sting that told him that she'd actually hit him quite hard. She was now using Bullet Ballet. Yet another fighting method she and Claire were teaching him and the only constant in all Exterminators. This was their bread and butter. Not too long ago, it was determined by quite a few that no matter how strong, fast or skilled humans were, they were still the underdogs in a fight against supernatural creatures. They had to come up with a new way of fighting. Adding munitions to the package was the next inevitable step.

  It was a hybrid form of firearm based martial arts, also known as Gun-Fu, that was extremely useful; one because it was unpredictable (like Jerry). Two; because not many people knew it. And three; because there was almost no defense against it. One arm and both legs were used to fight, the other arm, usually the one that the person favored was used to handle a weapon. A pistol was best since it was lighter and allowed for much quicker movements. In Jerry's case, he'd throw punches and blocks with his left and fire off bullets with his right. It was also designed for the combatant to avoid gunfire from their opponent.

  Of course, then there was the fact that vampires, like most things they hunted, were a lot faster than humans and would often dart around all over the place to avoid being shot. This was another way of countering that problem. It was extremely deadly and highly effective at close range. The sticks were playing the part of the guns during this sparing match because Sophinia probably wouldn't like them putting bullet holes in her walls.

  The sisters were also teaching him Wing Chun and Kendo and during their sparing matches, would like to employ all of them to try and confuse him and make him spot the difference. During a practice sword fight, they'd start punching him and visa-versa. It wasn't easy to keep up with. Four-hundred years had given Cass and Claire plenty of time to learn dozens of different fighting forms. Systema was another form he was learning, a Russian form which Joe had picked up and basically included everything from punches to fire-arms. A sort of full spectrum basic training.

  “Goddamnit Jerry! We're not fighting on the edge of a cliff here, you can move around you know.”

  She was right. One of his major draw backs was that he wasn't mobile enough during a fight. He wasn't clumsy or slow, it's just he wasn't confidant enough in his agility to make use of it. He was still used to fighting humans or creatures that used brute force over speed. He couldn’t dart around like she could. With her strength, her whole body felt light as a feather but his was heavy. He couldn’t move it the way she could, or at least he couldn’t yet.

  “Thanks Yoda,” Jerry growled and rubbed his arm.

  Again they went at it and again the same result came out. This time he was knocked on his ass again when she'd kicked him in the chest.

  “Come on Jerry, we both know you can fight better than this. I’ve seen you move faster, almost as fast as a vampire, why are you half-assing it?”

  “I'm tired!”

  “You're distracted,” she corrected.

  “I've got a lot on my mind,” he said.

  She dropped her gaze for a second letting him know that she understood. This time she was the one that yanked him up from the floor and back onto his feet. His weight was nothing to her strength.

  “I know,” she admitted. “This barrier thing is turning out to be way more of a pain in the ass that we thought it would.”

  “Yeah, it's depressing,” he nodded rubbing the butt cheek that was hurting the most.

  “Don't get depressed, get angry.”

  “Angry?” he repeated looking a little confused. “I thought I was supposed to be all calm and focused and...zen or something.”

  “Yes, grasshopper, that's true for most people but you ain't most people. Sometimes, anger can screw you over during a fight. It causes you to make mistakes. But sometimes, it can give you that extra little nudge to do what you have to. It can push you to go further than you would otherwise. And in your case it's the latter so come on, get angry.”

  “I'm not the feakin' Hulk, Cass, what do you want me to do?”

  “Think of something that gets you mad. Think of all the evil monsters that are running loose out there hurting people,” she suggested.

  “I'll get to them soon enough,” Jerry grinned.

  “Think of my sexy body and how you're never gonna have it again,” she pouted and didn't a little Vogue number.

  “Been there, done that. Beside, one kiss and you'd be all over me again,” he smirked back.

  “Like I'd ever let you kiss me again,” she snorted and smacked him in ribs with her stick as he started to walk over to the wall.

  Jerry moved back, rubbing his side. “You never let me kiss you in the first place...you kissed me, if I remember correctly?” he said reaching the wall. “Oowww!”

  She had just thrown one of the sticks at his back. It clonked against the floor as she moved closer looking annoyed.

  “You might wanna keep those because I'm seconds away from busting your head open,” she hissed. Her attempts to get him angry had backfired and now she was the one starting to get pissed off.

  “This is pointless, can we continue fight club some other time? I've still gotta drive home you know,” he said hanging the weapons back up again.

  “Fine, wuss!”

  “You'll have plenty more chances to beat me up Cass, besides, I got school tomorrow,” he didn’t sound too happy about that fact.

  Cass reached into her pocket and pulled out a set of car keys which she tossed to him. “Ask Claire to bring it back.”

  “Sure. Talk to you guys later.”

  Jerry drove one of Sophinia’s cars back to St. Cloud and arrived just after midnight. When he entered the house, he straight away heard Claire laughing lightly from the kitchen table. She was looking very pretty in a dark blue top, black skirt and black stockings while sitting with Joe who was just wearing a simple white t-shirt and jeans although he seemed to have actually ironed them. They looked to be having a fun conversation over a bottle of red wine.

  Since when did Joe drink Merlot?

  “How’d it go?” his uncle asked.

  “It didn’t,” Jerry said. He was too tired to hide his aggravation. He put the keys down on the table for Claire and went over to the fridge for a drink. His arm and butt were still a little sore from Cass's 'tutoring'.

  “It’s early days Jerry. There’s still a lot of stuff that we haven’t tried,” Claire said trying to sound supportive.

  “Yeah, well, I ain’
t getting my hopes up,” he said before taking a swig of orange juice. “I’m gonna get some sleep.”

  He left them to it and slouched off to his bedroom feeling down trodden. As he started to get undressed he caught a quick glimpse of the scar over his neck in the mirror. The one that had landed him in that hospital in the first place which had only gotten worse after being the cause of his brief little coma. He moved his hand up and slowly rubbed his fingers over the soft scar tissue, somehow hoping that it would maybe remind him of something forgotten or barred but it didn't. Instead he was left to look at himself in the glass, worn and bruised.

  It was quite surprising just how much weight he'd lost but he wasn't exactly a power house of muscle yet. Of course, he wasn't weak either. His strength had doubled since his first meeting with the supernatural but it wasn't good enough. He was still the underdog in any fight he got into. The greenish golden marks from Cassandra's training session were starting to show but so were the black shadows under his eyes from pushing himself a little too hard at times. First the psychic endeavor then a sparring match with a vamp and then a two hour drive home. It had worn him out and it wasn't the first time he'd done it.

  Still, despite the exhaustion, his mind still swelled with questions. Who was she...the lady in white? Why had she saved him? What did she want?

  He could get his hands on guns, bullets, fake I.D.’s, police reports and cash anytime he wanted but he couldn’t find answers. It was enough to give him a headache to say the least.

  Or maybe that was because Cass had knocked him around earlier. Either way, it didn't take long for him to crash out.

  CHAPTER 3 – THE NORM

  Joe’s House – St. Cloud

  Kickstart My Heart by Motley Crue was blaring out off the driver’s side window as Goose pulled his silver Volvo up to Joe’s house. Because of the bright sunlight that had been shining for the last hour, he’d decided to don a pair of sunglasses. He switched off the engine and stepped out of the car without bothering to lock the door behind him. He walked into the house as if he owned the place. Like Jerry, Goose, who was already pretty stocky, had only gotten more bulky since starting the exterminator lifestyle. His sandy blond hair had also gotten longer and he was now in danger of having a mullet. He didn't seem to care though.

  Straight after taking his glasses off Goose started chuckling as he saw Claire huddled in the shadows by the couch. She had stayed too long last night and was now trapped by the sun.

  “Four hundred years old and you still forget about that big ball of light that pops up in the sky every morning?” he laughed.

  “I just lost track of time. Sue me,” she said rolling her eyes.

  “The amount of time you spend here, we should start charging you rent,” Jerry remarked.

  He was sitting at the table wearing his same old ripped blue jeans and white t-shirt with pretty much his entire arsenal laid out in front of him and a lit cigarette in his mouth. He had tried and failed to quit smoking three times now. Cass still got some flak from Joe because of it.

  Most of the guns had been dismantled and were in neat little pieces in separate parts of the table. He was currently cleaning the barrels of his favorite sawn-off double rifle. Luckily, thanks to Rachel and Sophinia’s psychic/cash intervention, Goose’s dad hadn’t tried to shoot Jerry for stealing his most prized weapon. Rachel had abated his love for the rifle while Sophinia had delivered a sizable amount of money as well as directions to an auction house where he could probably find another, more expensive version of the one that Jerry had customized to his own liking.

  A few of the silver tipped Nitro Express rounds were lined up like soldiers next to smaller ammunition he’d removed from the other weapons.

  “What's the hubbub?” Goose asked lazily.

  “Same supernatural shit, different day,” Jerry shrugged.

  “Hey Goose,” Joe said as he walked in, still chewing on a piece of toast.

  “Hey Joe,” he grinned. “You wanna get her an alarm clock that’ll remind her about the sunrise?”

  “It’s my fault really. I should have hit the bunk sooner but we were talking and...” he drifted off and threw a cautious look towards his nephew. Jerry was wrapped up his munitions so Joe changed the subject. “Besides, Soph is gonna get me some of that anti-UV glass that she's got at her place soon.”

  “Cool. No more curtain protection for you,” Goose grinned at Claire who didn't seem pleased about him rubbing in her affliction to sunlight.

  Jerry’s attention was locked solely on his guns. He put the double rifle down and picked up his silver Colt .45. He checked that the breach was clear before sliding the shaft back on and locking it in place. He shoved a clip in and cocked it twice but a bullet didn’t eject. He pulled the clip back out, held it up to his ear and shook it a little. “Joe, got any spare .45 clips? The spring’s gone in this one,” he asked.

  “I got one in my glove box,” Goose said. “Speaking of, Soph called me this morning. Said she’s got a shipment coming in today if we need any supplies...also said last night was a bust.”

  “It was.”

  “Containment door in the face again?” he asked. As he spoke he looked down at the ground to see that he was practically standing on Claire’s brown leather bag. He pushed it open slightly with his foot and saw a police file sitting inside it.

  “How’d you guess?”

  “How the hell is she able to do that? I mean, it’s your noggin' right?”

  “It’s her barrier and this chick seems to have a lot of tricks up her sleeve,” Jerry said.

  “That’s becoming painfully obvious,” Goose nodded.

  “You guys better get going,” Joe said checking his watch.

  “Yeah, because apparently math repels vampires,” Jerry said with snide sarcasm. He had really grown to hate school after what had happened.

  “Jerry, we’re not gonna argue about this again. You’re going. That’s an order.”

  “Yes sir,” he heaved before loading the barrels of his sawn-off with Nitro rounds and slapping it shut. He stood up from his chair and grabbed a leather body holster from the table. It was the standard police issue sort that allowed them to carry a weapon concealed next to their ribs.

  He put it on then threw a checkered blue shirt on over the top of it to keep it covered. Carrying loaded guns around school was somewhat frowned upon in this day and age. In fact, Sophinia would have to pull some serious strings to make sure he didn’t end up in a cell if he got caught.

  Still, he rather chance it and be armed if a nasty man-eating monster showed up than have to get into a fist fight with one. He stuffed the sawn-off into his school bag and pulled it over his shoulder.

  “Okay, see ya round people. Oh, Claire, it’s such a lovely day, you should spend some time in the garden or something, get a nice tan,” he smirked.

  “Get bent,” she fired back.

  Now that they were all much more comfortable about it, both the boys had gotten into the annoying habit of teasing Claire and Cass about their vampirism. Remarks about tanning booths and how they should be careful with the silver cutlery at dinner parties came out regularly.

  Goose decided to join in by signing a few lyrics from Creams Sunshine of Your love. Claire gave him the finger.

  As soon as Jerry took the shotgun seat of the Volvo, he grabbed the spare clip out of the glove box and started switching the bullets over into it. It was locked and holstered before the car got out of the sticks.

  “You remember to take your shot?” Goose asked automatically.

  “Don’t you think Claire would have been humping my leg if I hadn’t?”

  Goose nodded with a strange mental image forming in his head. Parker was dead but the serum he created wasn’t. One of Sophinia’s friends, a former doctor that had lost his medical license and now did back ally work in San Francisco had managed to replicate it and sent batches of the stuff to her through the mail every other week or so. It was the only reason Jerry hadn
’t run out. Like Parker, he’d made no head way in discovering why Jerry’s blood was so special and therefore, there was no headway on discovering a cure for fanged blood junky disease. There was also no way to permanently shut off his pheromones from making vampires around him want to suddenly become porn stars. It was kind of disturbing that without taking his shot, every vampire that came near him would want to screw and suck him to death.

  “She or Soph say anything about any gigs we can be a part of?” Goose asked, breaking him away from that line of thought.

  “Nah. You know Soph, ever since the Waterloo thing, she’s been pretty wary about what jobs to give us,” Jerry couldn’t be mad at her for that. After all, they had sort of screwed themselves over by going after the vampires alone.