“Fuck!” Blake said. “They cut all the lines. Yeah, whoever got in here did their business quickly and quietly and just left. They planned it so it would be me against all of them, no outside help. Cell phone?” Blake inquired hopefully.
“Back in the car. I was gonna go grab it, when Mr. Bitey forced me further in. Then I was busy looking for survivors.”
“And all you got was me,” Blake said wryly.
Miriam smiled. The elevator door opened and there was a horde of vampires filling the lobby.
“Shit!” Blake said, hitting the DOOR CLOSE button. The steel doors shut just as one banged into them on the other side.
“Jesus!” Miriam screamed. “Guess we’re stuck here for a while.”
Blake hit the third floor button, hoping for the best.
15
“Damn it!” Max said. They were all there, holding their crosses and stakes, standing above him, ready for any move from him. All his buddies were dead. If he so much as made a move on one of them, the rest would be on him like white on rice.
“I softened him up for you,” Eve said to Johnny.
Johnny winked. “Thanks princess.”
“Don’t make me kick you in the nuts too.”
“C’mon Max,” Tony said, “Make your move.”
“Shut up meathead,” Max replied. He spoke with bravado, but the fact of the matter was Maxwell Rifkin was not feeling all that brave about now. His speech and his body language betrayed him.
“How do you do it?” he said, voice wavering.
Max didn’t explicitly say what he meant, but they got it. How do you always win? How do you always get the upper hand?
“We learned from the best,” Myron said.
“What, that shit kicking old guy vampire hunter?” Max scoffed.
“You speak one more bad word about Blake and I’m going to kick your fucking pointy teeth in,” Eve said.
“You want to kill me anyway,” Max whined in a petulant childish way.
Staci regarded him as if he were beyond stupid. “Naww, what would make you think that?”
“The bullying, the blood-sucking, the killing of innocents…” Jeremy suggested.
“I can fly away right now,” Max said.
“I can follow you,” Eve countered.
“Just leave me alone!”
“How many people have you heard that from Max?” Johnny said. “How many begged you not to hurt them, begged you for their life…?”
“It’s not fair,” Max argued, “It’s six against one.”
“Have you ever played fair?” Tony inquired.
Max shook his head, not in reply to the question, but trying to negate the predicament he was in. He looked at them, pleading with his eyes, seeing no sympathy. He had no other recourse but to try and escape.
He shot up into the air like a rocket, covering only a short distance before Eve flew after him. “Oh no, you don’t!” She grabbed his legs and pulled him down. They only had seconds while he was on the ground. Max was rolling over, starting to get up. Eve moved out of the way quickly as he was pelted with a barrage of glass vials filled with holy water. They hit his arms, his legs, his chest, the side of his face, the top of his head…
Max screamed. When they were out of holy water they started to kick him.
Staci cried out, “Stop!!”
Max looked up with his bubbling half-singed face.
“We’re better than this,” she said.
“She’s right,” Jeremy said. “We should kill him quick.”
They had their stakes at the ready. Max held his arms and hands up to ward them off. Then a massive winged shadow loomed over them and swooped him up, off the ground, out of their reach. They watched in astonishment as the blue skinned Other flew off with Max, its creation. Everyone felt it, knew this to be the truth. Eve did not follow.
The group knew they were outmatched, knew the strength of The Other, and they were short a few axes, swords, machetes, and guns to even hope to challenge it. They would have to accept this as a victory, with all of Max’s gang dead, and Max wounded and fleeing.
They picked up their bags, put away their weapons, and made their way back to the hotel.
16
At first the floor looked empty, and Blake breathed in a sigh of relief. He knew it wouldn’t last long. They still had to get out of the building.
“Is there a fire escape?” he asked Miriam.
“Yes!” she pointed, “That way!”
They rushed down the hall toward it, and Miriam was forced
to slow down. The most the old man could manage, even with his
cane, was a slow gallop.
Something grabbed the guard from behind, gripping both her arms in a death lock. She couldn’t raise her gun, or turn to counter her attacker. Blake couldn’t use the cane how he wanted, because her body blocked him, so he whipped the vampire across the back of its neck, snapping the wood in two. It was enough for the vampire to loosen its grip. Miriam squirmed away, blasting it in the forehead. It dropped.
“Got you!” she said.
“Not really,” Blake disagreed. “Hand me that will you?” He pointed to the broken cane, “The pointy end.”
She did. He buried it in the thing’s chest, killing it. “Now it’s dead.”
She put a hand up. “Wait a minute. So you’re saying the ones I shot up there aren’t dead? They’re going to get back up.”
“That’s right,” Blake said, breathing hard. “W-wha-what part of vam-pire di-di-didn’t you get?” he stammered, holding his chest.
“Old man, are you all right? You’re not having a heart attack…?”
“Blake, please.” He held a hand up, pausing, winded. “It was just the effort.”
“Well, let me do the staking from now on,” Miriam said.
“Fair enough,” Blake agreed. “But I’m not willing to let go of this puppy just yet. Or let you have all the action.”
“You’re feisty all right. Did you say your name was Blake? Fulton Blake?”
“Yes.”
“Well, that explains everything now doesn’t it?”
17
“Something’s wrong,” Eve said, hanging up the phone.
Jeremy, who was sitting on the bed, looked up. “What do you
mean?”
“No one’s answering at the hospital. I either get a busy signal or no dial tone.”
Myron was the only other person in Jeremy’s room. The others had gone to bed.
“Well, that doesn’t mean anything,” Myron said, “Maybe they’re just understaffed tonight.” He regarded them uncertainly, “Right?”
“Maybe we should…” Eve started.
“Aren’t you tired?” Jeremy said.
“Not really. Vampire strength and all,” she said making a muscle with both arms, though she didn’t feel very lighthearted at the moment.
“Well, I’ve got scrapes where I never knew I had places,” Jeremy said.
Eve pleaded. “It’s Blake. We have to be sure,” she pouted.
“All right!” Jeremy said, defeated. “Why do you have to do that?”
“’Cause I’m good at it,” she smiled.
“Should we wake the others?” Myron said.
Eve shook her head. “No, but bring your cell phones, in case we need them as back up. I’m really hoping I’m wrong and it’s nothing.”
“We could probably use Staci. She always seems to know when bad things are going to happen.”
“No,” Jeremy said. “Eve’s right. We’ll take as few of us as possible.”
“Assess the situation,” Myron said.
“Yes,” Jeremy smiled.
“Let’s do it.”
18
“What’s that?” Miriam inquired.
Blake had pulled something out of the doctor’s uniform; the
doctor who’d attacked Miriam, and was now a dead vampire.
He held it up. “Lighter.” He looked down disapprovingly. “T
sk tsk. I’m not sure he’s supposed to have this on him. But I’m glad he did. He’s probably a chain smoker. I’m sure it will come in handy.” He added it to his treasure trove of weapons- the paperweight and the letter opener in his pockets and the pointed stick in his hand. The side of his robe where the paperweight lay was sagging.
This floor was too disquietingly empty, in the way the other floor was completely overrun by vampires. They searched the floor, not seeing a soul, until they came to a set of double doors, what looked to be the entrance to some sort of break room, or cafeteria. Blake could see vending machines through the inset windows at the top of the doors. He carefully pushed the doors in. That’s when they both heard the slurping sounds. They looked to their right, past the machines, where the long fold-up tables, three linked together in a row, were set up for a macabre feast. Three bodies- two nurses, and a doctor, were opened up from chest to thigh, internal organs tossed to either side, some still dangling, while a group of vampires were scooping blood from the open cavities with both their hands and bringing it to their lips. A few of them were splashing their faces with it, as if they’d been in the desert for days and this had been their first taste of water.
Miriam heaved, on the verge of vomiting. Her gun hand was shaking. Blake steadied her. He slowly took the gun away. “Easy, we knew what we’re dealing with,” he whispered.
The vampires continued to drink for several seconds, before they realized there were intruders. They turned, angry to be interrupted. One man, an intern from the look of his scrubs, with blood streaked face and blood filled mouth, looked up ashamed and said, “I couldn’t help myself. I’m so sorry, I couldn’t help myself.”
“I know,” Blake said, and shot him in the head.
Miriam looked on. Blake couldn’t hold the gun and fire for long. “Are you okay?” he asked her. Her hand was shaking a little less, and he placed the gun back into it, closing her fingers around it.
“Yes,” she said.
“Then fight.”
Miriam started shooting.
19
“Wonderful!” Donna said, frustrated. Due to an incoming storm, flights were being delayed for several hours, and the next ones in line were already booked. Of course, it was less than a month to Thanksgiving. The kids were upset too, but for entirely different reasons.
Tyler said, “We’re not going to see Daddy?”
“Oh, we’re going to see him all right; just not as soon as we wanted.”
While this was going on, Myron was receiving missed call alerts on his phone. His wife had called twice in the last hour, but hadn’t left a message, which of course meant that she was not only worried about him, but angry as well. They rarely fought, and she hardly ever got angry, but when she did the silent treatment was how she dealt with it, her refuge. But they were on their way to the hospital to see about Blake, and it would have to wait a little longer. He hoped just a little.
20
Johnny wouldn’t get his message from Lori until morning. By then he wouldn’t know what to do with it.
Staci saw the calls from her husband before she went to bed, and wanted more than anything to call him, but she had no idea what to say. I’m sorry didn’t even begin to cut it. How could she possibly explain what she was doing here? Why she had left so abruptly?
She looked at her phone, her mind and body weary, and said, “Oh Dan,” shaking her head. Staci went to bed with a sadness she could not alleviate, not this night. She hoped there’d be time to make
up for things later.
21
Three of them were blasted in the head, in quick succession. The rest of the vampires charged at them. Blake vaguely remembered thinking we should have kept moving toward the fire escape before it all went to shit.
The first one grabbed him. Blake stabbed him in the eye with the letter opener. He felt it collapse and deflate under the opener’s weight, bursting with a liquid pop. He smashed the paperweight across the second one’s teeth into its open mouth, breaking loose its fangs, working off pure adrenaline now. The next one he stabbed in the heart with the point of his broken cane. The next three overpowered him. As he was brought down he saw Miriam grabbed from behind. The last three vampires grabbed her. Her gun went off, firing into the roof as she lost her grip on it. One of the vampires sank its teeth into her neck, as the other two held down her arms. Blood gushed from the open wound, and her eyes rolled back in her head.
“Miriam! No!” Blake screamed.
The three vampires on top of Blake had him on the ground, their weight and strength too much for his frail frame, and he’d lost all of his weapons. He couldn’t get his arms out from under them. He felt one rip into his arm with its fangs, and another his neck. The warm wetness washed over him, his head spinning. It felt like a flood, the waves splashing over him. And then the world went black.
22
“The situation” was not good. By the time they arrived at the hospital, the entire structure was on fire. Police and firefighters were just arriving, and no sign of Blake. For all they knew everyone in the hospital had perished. They weren’t far from the truth.
“What do we do now?” Myron said.
“There’s nothing we can do,” Jeremy replied.
“Do you think Blake was in there?” Eve said. “Do you think they could have gotten him out?”
Jeremy shook his head. “He was, I think, but I don’t know. It’s Blake.”
Eve was on the verge of tears.
“He wasn’t in there,” Jeremy assured her.
“Thank you,” she said.
“Let’s go home. We can get the updates on the news. There’s nothing we can do here,” Myron said.
“Yes, let’s go home,” Eve said, smiling, sniffling, and putting her arms around the two older men as she walked with them.
23
He heard his name being whispered. Someone calling him, calling him up from the void.
“Blake. Blake.” He shifted, fighting sleep, trying to crawl up out of it.
“Blake!”
He awoke abruptly. Fulton Blake was in his hospital bed again. He shifted to and fro, scanning the room. Everything was as it should be. Had he dreamed it all then? Had he finally gone over the edge?
His neck throbbed, and Blake brought his hand up to it. It was bandaged; heavily bandaged. So was the arm where he’d been bit. How did he get here? He was sure he’d been killed.
Blake had been dreaming of his wife Samantha. She’d been the one calling his name, calling him up from sleep. Incredibly she had entered the room, her flowing blonde hair, her smile… his Samantha, but she was in a nurse’s uniform. No, he was wrong. She was wearing her favorite burgundy sweater and blue jeans. She was over his bed, looking down at him. She was beautiful.
Was he still dreaming?
“Blake,” she said. “It’s time to get up.”
“Get up? I’m in pain. I was nearly killed.”
“No. Your pain is temporary. Come with me, you’ll see. It’s nicer on the other side.”
Other side? This didn’t make sense. He wasn’t dead, and he wasn’t dreaming, and this was NOT Samantha, not the woman he loved. The woman he still loved. He started to remember what had happened, just bits and pieces, but enough. He felt the broken cane at his side, in his pocket. At some point he’d picked it up again. He brought it up now, from underneath the sheets, tearing through the sheets, tearing through her heart.
“YOU’RE NOT MY WIFE!” he shouted angrily. The woman screamed as the point of the makeshift stake sunk into her, turning the white sheets red with her blood, and dispelling the illusion. Not Samantha, his wife, but Samantha the nurse- the one who’d been so kind to him in her 50s nurse cap and black hair in a bun. He was, at that moment, killing not one, but two people he cared for. He noticed with some irony that the blood that bloomed between her breasts from the stake wound was in the shape of a valentine’s heart. She hissed at him angrily, fangs bared.
“I’m sorry Sama
ntha,” Blake said. As her spirit or whatever it was that was left of her, exited her body, her expression softened. The fangs receded, and she gazed at him with eyes full of sorrow. A wordless sigh escaped her. And then she fell on top of him. Blake simply lay there for the moment, silent, with her lifeless body atop his. He ached, but she was right. The pain was going away quickly. Her body falling on him hadn’t hurt much either, something that might have normally broken a few bones at the rate he’d been declining. But he was something else now. Not just an old man.
He thought Samantha might have turned him. In her newly formed demonic mind that might have seemed a grace. But if she had Blake would have felt entirely human, would have in fact died from his wounds after he had killed her. But he felt more energized by the minute. He wasn’t sure yet who had changed him into the very thing he loathed, but they would pay. By God, and all that was holy, they would pay.
24
What Blake did when he first got up from the bed, gently turning over Samantha’s body, was to retrieve his stake. He rose with a new purpose. He was going to make sure he exterminated every last one of those fuckers even if he had to die trying. And maybe he’d be lucky enough to find the one that turned him.
First he needed to get out of this hospital robe, so he went to the drawer on the nightstand, and got a change of clothes- jeans that were probably too big for him now, and a sweater. His boots and socks were in the closet next to the restroom. He stopped there before he went to the closet, not sure if he should be expecting someone to come in. He supposed he didn’t want anyone or anything catching him with his pants down.
Blake inspected himself in the mirror, noticing his face was somewhat smoother, his wrinkles less defined. His white hair was sprouting flecks of black.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” he said, immediately wincing at his poor choice of words. He was aging backwards.
Once he was done getting dressed he tossed the old robe on the bed. Something fell out of it and clattered on the floor. He picked it up with much less effort than normal.
The Pit in the Woods: A Mercy Falls Mythos Page 50