“Why is that guy watching us?” Johnny said.
“Not a clue,” Tony answered.
“Hello!” the man waved.
“Maybe he’s a cop,” Johnny said.
“Maybe he’s a perv,” Staci offered.
“I don’t think so,” Jeremy said.
“Well, he is crossing the street,” Myron added.
“He’s coming toward us all right,” Jeremy mumbled.
“Any funny business,” Johnny whispered, “We all run.” They all agreed to that.
“Gentlemen, lady,” he said, nodding toward them. “Mind if I walk with you for a bit, have a chat?”
“Maybe,” Myron said, wary. “Who are you?”
“Yeah,” Staci said, “’Cause right now I think we’re all trying to decide between cop, perv, or bible salesman.”
The man laughed heartily at that, bellowing laughter into the sky. “That’s priceless! I am, in fact, dear girl, none of those things. I do believe I can be of some assistance to you.”
“Assistance?” Johnny said, “What kind of assistance?”
“You see, I’ve been tracking them for a very long time. You could say it’s my business, and I realize you’ve gotten yourself into something you cannot control, last night.”
“Have you…?” Staci began.
Been watching us, she’d been about to say, when the man produced a rolled up newspaper from inside his coat.
“Oh,” she said.
“How can you help us?” Jeremy said.
“Well, I did say it’s my business. My name is Fulton Blake. I am a vampire hunter.”
17
They sat on a high wall near a fountain, not too far from Jeremiah’s Woods as he recounted where he’d been, what he knew, and why he was here. They listened avidly, sitting in silence.
“To properly answer your question,” Blake said, addressing
Staci, “I have in a sense been watching you, and everyone in this town. I read the paper; watch the news for any events, keeping an ear and an eye out for the unusual. I know, for instance, about the Dragons, by playing the part of the concerned parent at your school. I know their activities and that the lot of you has been harassed by them.”
“And that’s putting it mildly,” Jeremy said.
“I know of the events at the Rock Spot and I surmise that you were all there.”
“Yes,” Myron said. “We were.”
“This Betty Leesburg, do you still have her?”
“No,” Staci said, her eyes watering up, “They took her from us.”
“I see,” Blake said. “Then we must find a way to get her back.”
“We can’t get her back,” Johnny said. “There’s no way.”
“I know what really happened at that house. The hunger, it took over.”
Tony nodded. “Yes, but she had help. There was someone else there.”
“Someone else?” Blake said, surprised. “The one that took her?”
“No,” Tony said. “He was feeding off her father.” He shivered at the memory.
“What did he look like?”
“Tall, bald, gray, with wings and sharp teeth…”
Blake held a hand up to stop him. “As I thought. And the ones that took Betty?”
“What about them?” Johnny said.
“What did they look like?” Blake asked.
“Well, we didn’t see them. They hypnotized my mom and dad, and sister,” Jeremy said. “All they could remember was two well-dressed men and a woman.”
“So they looked human?”
“Yes. I guess.”
“Were they taken at night or day?”
Jeremy looked confused. “Night, of course. They’re vampires,
right?”
Blake nodded. “Yes, yes. What you saw Tony was what the vampires amongst themselves have come to call The Others. They are ancient vampires who have metamorphosed over time into hideous creatures. It can take centuries. This is the vampire’s true undiluted form, once the disease has taken complete control.”
“Disease?” Tony said.
“Yes, I’ve come to think of it much like a virus, transmitted through the blood. The vampire must let the victim feed off their own blood in order to turn the victim into a vampire, after the prey has been bitten. But the full transformation cannot take place until they have fed off of a living human. It acts as a sort of catalyst to complete the becoming.”
They thought of Betty and how she had, for a moment while she was feeding looked completely feral, yet she retained something human about her still when she’d realized what she’d done.
“But as I was saying The Others are very ancient, deadly creatures. They have mastered their unique abilities, and gained more. For instance they can walk about in daylight, although they must take on a human guise. They are master shape shifters so this is not a problem. But they are limited. They can only take on the shape of the human they once were, no other. But they may be any animal, the most powerful being the wolf, bat, or snake. All vampires can turn into these three. And they prefer the predatory creatures. Walking about in daylight is truly difficult for them, however, even though they are in human guise. You see, they are able to cast a reflection, unlike newer vampires, and their reflection shows their true nature- their hideous selves. So you see how something as simple as windows, and polished steel, not just mirrors, could be a problem. All vampires have the power to mesmerize, as they did to your family,” he said to Jeremy. “They also have the power to make you see what they want you to see. Make you hallucinate, if you will, although this takes some concentration, and can weaken them somewhat.” He paused to think.
“Can they all fly?” Myron said, fascinated, despite the horror of what they were.
“Yes, although The Others have grown actual wings. Human-looking vampires do not like The Others. Part of it may be envy of their additional powers, but a large part is actual hatred. The Others are often reckless, very public in their attacks. The human vampires prefer to be subtle, do not want to risk exposure, and the inevitable hunting of their kind. They prefer humanity’s obliviousness of their existence.”
“But why Betty then?” Staci said. “Why would they attack and turn a little girl into one of them?”
“Perhaps The Others did that. They often do things simply because they can. But it seems from Jeremy’s account the Humes are actually taking her in. And then sometimes, on rare occasions the Humes and The Others work together to achieve a common goal, for vampire kind. In a sense they’re very much like politicians. For the most part the rival factions stay out of each other’s way.”
“So what’s their plan? Why are they here?” Jeremy said.
“I’m not sure they have a plan, other than to exist. Unfortunately, that entails feeding off humans. Why are they here, specifically? That I cannot answer; other than to say they’ve found a good home for themselves in the bowels of the pit.”
Johnny squirmed. It was odd to see him do that, but understandable.
“It may already be too late for Betty. And Lord knows how many of them are down there,” Blake said.
“Not that we can get down there,” Tony said.
“Oh, I know a way,” Blake said. “But it is extremely dangerous.”
This comment was greeted with silence.
“Why do you hunt them?” Staci asked.
“Because their kind must be eradicated!” Blake said angrily.
Myron sensed his grief. “You lost someone.”
Fulton Blake looked into his eyes, and simply nodded, reluctantly. Although there was sadness in his eyes, his face was hard as a stone. They didn’t press.
“How do you kill them?” Johnny said.
Blake brightened. “The usual ways you would expect. A stake through the heart; the surest way, fire or decapitation. They do have an aversion to crosses and holy water. But crosses only work if they were people of faith before they were turned, or the person using them is a person of faith. It rea
lly depends. I’ve had them work incredibly effectively, mildly, or not at all. Mostly it depends on their belief in God or Christ, or sin.”
“So if they were Jewish, would I have to lug around a Star of David or a giant Menorah?” Johnny asked.
“I’m not sure,” Blake laughed, “Guess I may have to keep those in my repertoire.”
He smiled, and continued. “Obviously, daylight can kill them, excepting The Others, except in their human guise. If they revert to their true selves, it’s another story. They have an aversion to running water: Rivers, streams, the ocean; although I’m not sure it can actually kill them.”
“Of course,” Jeremy said. “That’s why Betty couldn’t cross the stream when we called to her.”
Blake nodded. “I don’t expect that you will help me, and I don’t know that I should be asking you to put your lives in danger, at all. I only know that I won’t be able to go into the pit alone, and from what I’ve heard of you, I know you to be fighters. I don’t ask your help lightly, and you should know the risks are great.”
He wasn’t sure they’d answer at all, and then Staci said, “We’ll do it, right guys?”
“Yes,” Myron said, “For Betty?”
“For Betty!” Jeremy approved.
“For Betty!” Tony said
“For Betty!” Johnny backed them.
“Very well,” Blake agreed, “We shall reconvene here tomorrow morning, before the start of school, and set the plan in motion.”
“You mean skip school?” Johnny shrugged. “I’m okay with that.”
“Then it’s settled. Please watch yourselves, and your families.
Now that they know of you, they may consider you a danger.”
Jeremy handed Blake the note. “I think they already do.”
Blake read it; all the color left his face. “Be careful, and don’t let anyone into your homes, no matter how friendly they seem.” He paused to regain his composure. “It has been a pleasure to meet you all. Au revoir.”
Myron repeated the phrase back to him. The rest of them said, “Bye,” and “Nice to meet you Blake,” the cheeriness belying what they knew was coming. In battle things could always get much, much worse.
18
Their names were in the paper; and they didn’t expect what they got from their parents- sympathy. How awful it was they’d walked in on that, and after they’d saved Betty once; to find the parents savaged like that, and the girl gone, again. For Johnny and Staci it was a little sickening, though somewhat sweet and unexpected. For Jeremy, Tony, and Myron, who were supposedly not there, and were only asked about their friends, it was simply annoying. The main concern of the parents was that they didn’t want their houses and kids bombarded by reporters. There was a short lived media frenzy when they’d first found the girl. It was a small town, and they liked to keep things quiet. But this was different. This was murder.
Now that they’d gotten past the parent hurdle, what kind of questions would they be asked by the media? They knew there would potentially be more questioning from the police, although the paper flat-out stated that they were not suspects. But these things were far back in their thoughts.
What would happen tomorrow? Would they find Betty? Was she too far gone to save her? What would saving her mean? She would still be a vampire, even if they found out who turned her. These were the questions that plagued them. Blake had suggested
that only if the new vampire had not fed off human blood, would they
ever be turned back again. All they could do was to keep her locked up, where she wasn’t a danger to herself or others, and what kind of a life would that be for a five year old girl?
19
When Blake met them the following day, he carried a large briefcase. It was a large steel double padded thing, almost a chest really, and just barely manageable to lug with one hand.
He met them outside the woods in his car. Blake opened the chest/briefcase inside the trunk to reveal what could only be called a military type arsenal, except that most military arsenals did not include wooden stakes, crosses, garlic, or holy water. Johnny whistled.
“Yes,” Blake agreed. “Everything we’ll need.” There was a crossbow, a .45, a large hunting knife with serrated edges, a short barreled rapid fire pistol, a long handled black whip, and a half dozen grenades.
Blake looked around to make sure no one was watching. “One of you will have to go over the fence and I’ll pass the case off to you. It’s quite heavy.”
“I’ll go,” Tony volunteered.
“Ho, ho, hold it a minute!” Johnny said. “What’s the plan exactly?”
“This is the plan,” Blake said.
“What, go in like commandos and storm the place? What if they’ve got like a hundred of them just waiting for us.”
“How else did you expect to get her out? And I seriously doubt that.” He pointed at the sky. “It’s daylight. They’ll be sleeping.”
“Surprise attack.” Johnny approved.
Once they were over the fence and sure they weren’t followed, they made it over to a copse of trees, and crouched down to open the case.
“I want the Rambo knife,” Tony said.
“I figured you would hate knives,” Staci said.
Tony shrugged. “It’s different when you’re the one sticking it to someone.”
“Not all of these weapons will work on them,” Myron said, “Am I correct?”
Blake grinned. “Oh, they’ll work. If nothing else they hurt like a bitch, and slow them down, if not kill them. Both guns have a mix of normal bullets and silver bullets. Couldn’t make them all silver.” He passed the knife to Tony.
“I thought silver was for werewolves,” Jeremy said.
“Silver affects vampires as well. It does not outright kill them, but if they absorb enough of it, it poisons the blood, incapacitates them.”
They didn’t fail to notice Blake used the words “as well.” He held up the .45. “Anyone knows how to shoot a gun?”
“Yeah,” Johnny said. “My jerk-off stepdad used to take me to the shooting range. Only good thing he ever taught me.” He held his hand out for the gun. Blake handed it to him, along with a box of shells, a holster, and a belt to hold the bullets.
“Crossbow?” Blake asked.
Staci held her hand up shyly. “Not sure how well I’ll do, but I had an archery class. I’ve just used a regular bow, but I was pretty good with it.”
Blake handed Staci the crossbow, and a quiver with two dozen wooden arrows. “Sure kill, if you hit ’em in the heart.”
“I’ll take the whip,” Jeremy said.
“All right Indiana,” Johnny said. Jeremy ignored him. He was handed the whip.
Blake looked at Myron. “I will just stick to the stake,” Myron said.
“Very well,” Blake said. “And I will stick to my good old trusty Splatter.” He picked up the rapid fire pistol.
“Splatter?” Johnny asked.
“Yes, short for Splatterer, a weapon of my own creation- a submachine gun housing welded to a Smith and Wesson; not quite as heavy as a machine gun, and not as lightning quick, but it still gets the job done in record time.”
“Sweet.”
“Indeed.” Blake cocked his head toward the case. “Each of you take a belt, several vials of holy water, a stake, and cross. You’ll find the belts have compartments for each. Oh, and place a string of garlic around your necks.”
“What does the garlic do exactly?” Jeremy asked.
“Allergic reaction,” Blake said, “It affects each one differently.” On that he would say no more.
In addition to his submachine gun/pistol hybrid, Blake strapped on the half dozen grenades, hanging them diagonally across his chest and shoulders in a green bandoleer.
“You sure it’s a good idea to bring grenades into an underground cave?” Johnny said.
“No,” Blake said, “It’s not really my first weapon of choice, but a just in case.”
“How ex
actly are we going to get down there?” Tony asked. They stood up to follow him.
Blake said, “You’ll see.”
20
He led them to a grassy knoll, overgrown with grass that had turned brown, and dry leaves of the same hue. Blake crouched down and began to separate some of the leaves and grass. It was hard to see at first, but soon they could make out the thatch pattern on the copper grating.
“See that?” Blake said, “Took me years to find this passageway. It used to be a culvert, but it’s become overgrown and disused.”
To their amazement Blake gripped the bars and made a counterclockwise turning motion. What appeared to be sealed shut was really just stage dressing. A few turns and a pull and the thing
popped right out.
“I think at one point this was an escape route for them. I don’t believe it’s ever been used. I’ve used it… once. Never had the nerve to go far enough but I know where it leads. They’re much easier to deal with out in the open.”
“Can’t they just fly out of the pit?” Johnny said.
“Yes,” Blake replied, “But what if someone blocks them out? They’ve created a series of elaborate tunnels extending from the original culvert.”
“How does it connect to the bottom of the pit?” Tony asked.
“There are places where steel ladders have been built into the rock face.”
Staci shivered. “I don’t like this.”
“Me neither,” Myron said, catching himself being grammatically incorrect. “I am somewhat claustrophobic.”
“Well, get over it!” Blake said, a little too harshly. Myron winced. “Sorry, dear boy. But it’s now or never. If you’re with me then time is of the essence. If not give me back your weapons. I’ll not go it alone, but if at least two of you are willing, then there’s a fighting chance. I’ll understand if you don’t have the stomach for it.”
All were reluctantly willing, but Myron was still on the fence. Everyone looked at him. “Oh all right! I am not going to be the odd man out, and I definitely do not want to go back through those woods by myself again. I am staying behind you guys.”
The Pit in the Woods: A Mercy Falls Mythos Page 31