Bullets Will Work: A Vampire Slayer Novel

by Geoffrey C Porter

  Chapter 4

  I waited until I reached a decent sized city and parked at a convenient store. I asked the attendant if they had a bus station. He gave me directions.

  I hefted my duffle bag over my shoulder and started hiking. Within an hour, I found the bus station, and I asked for a ticket to Dayton. The woman gave me a look I can't quite describe and said, "That's a red zone."

  I said, "I need to get there."

  She started pecking away on her computer. "You'll have to route through Nashville."

  "How much?"

  "Ninety-five dollars."

  I fished out my wallet and paid her.

  The bus trip was long and boring. As we drove through Dayton, I noticed most of the houses were boarded up. But the lawns were often trim and neat, and the houses had cars in front of them, so they didn't seem deserted. At one point, I saw a body in the space between two houses, but I shrugged it off. We pulled into the bus station, and I gathered up my duffle bag. I asked the woman at the counter for directions to Third Street. She said, "Walk out the doors, Fourth Street is on your left, turn right."

  I started walking. As I approached the nine hundred block, I noticed a building surrounded by a twelve-foot fence. It had machine gun nests on each corner of the roof and exterior cameras everywhere. I smiled. The fence had big signs in English, French, and Spanish, "Electric Fence – Do not touch!"

  I started walking around the building until I came to a gate in the fence with a button and a speaker. I pressed the button and heard a buzzer. Nothing happened. I waited. I pressed the button again. "Who is it?" Crackled through the speaker.

  "Sidney Daniels. You should be expecting me."

  "You're late," said the voice I recognized as Manuel.

  "Yeah, I got sidetracked."

  "Drop the bag."

  I sighed and looked around. Nobody was around, so I set the bag on the ground. The gate started to slide open. I picked my bag back up. The voice shouted, "Leave the bag!"

  I said, "What?"

  "The bag, leave it at the gate."

  "Why?"

  "Look at your chest."

  I looked down at my chest, and a red dot from a laser sight rested right on my heart. I set the bag down and walked into the parking lot. There were steps leading up to a door, and I approached it. When I got to it, a metal panel slid out of the way revealing a hole about waist high. Another metal slot opened, and a gun barrel pointed at me. I looked through the slot and saw somebody in a ski mask. Somebody said, "Put your arm in the hole. We need a blood sample."

  I groaned, but I put my hand through the hole. I felt a prick. Manuel said, "Takes five minutes."

  I stood around and waited. After ten or fifteen minutes, the door creaked open. I said, "Can I get my bag?"

  The guy in the ski mask said, "Yeah."

  I walked back to the gate and got my bag. I stepped into the building, and they closed the door behind me. I took a look around. The guy in the ski mask took his mask off and said, "I'm Lambert." He had brown, stringy hair and no facial hair.

  Another fellow said, "Ben."

  The last one said, "And I'm Manuel. Give me your gun."

  "What?" I asked.

  "You brought a gun with you; I'm certain of it. I want it. When you earn the privilege of having a gun indoors, you can sleep with it under your pillow for all I care, but until then you don't need it. Hand it over."

  Maybe this had been a bad idea. Could have stayed on the run. Had to start trusting people some time. I reached under my coat and withdrew the Colt.

  Manuel took it and unloaded it. "We carry the Glock 9mm. I'll give you your .45 back someday, but you'll practice with the Glock."

  I nodded.

  "Are you hungry?" Lambert asked.

  I said, "Sure."

  "Lambert's always hungry," Ben said.

  I looked Lambert over. He stood about 5'6" and was thin as a rail. He might have been seventeen, maybe. Ben was bigger, easily six foot and two hundred and fifty pounds. He had short, crew-cut style hair, and a bit of stubble on his chin. Ben was young too, still a teenager. Manuel was tall and thin, and he sported a well-trimmed beard. He seemed the oldest at maybe twenty. All three of them wore jeans and tennis shoes.

  "What are you going to cook today, Lambert?" Manuel asked.

  "I'm boiling hot dogs."

  Ben clenched his fists and jumped up and down. "You could at least grill them."

  "I'm boiling them!"

  "I'd like to unpack," I said. "Maybe lay down for a bit since I spent the night on a bus."

  Manuel pointed down the hall and turned his attention back to a computer terminal. "Your room's on two. It used to be Henry's room. His computer is still in there. Likely still has his porn and music collections on it. There's a hammock. If you don't like the hammock, we can find something else."

  I said, "I don't use porn."

  Ben laughed a deep resonating laugh.

  Lambert smiled at me.

  "Suit yourself. Ben, show him his room," Manuel said.

  Ben said, "This way."

  He led the way up a flight of stairs and down a hallway to the third door. He opened the door and waved me in. He said, "There you go."

  I went inside and looked around. A massive hammock was stretched out between two walls. Wait? A hammock? For real? I went to the dresser and found it full of clothes. The computer was on. I touched the mouse. The background was of a large breasted naked woman riding a motorcycle. I sighed.

  I set my duffle bag down and tried climbing into the hammock. It took a few tries to get right, but I made it in. I lay there as it gently swayed back and forth. My thoughts drifted to the ocean. I said to myself, I can deal with this. Time started to drift away from me as I fell into a slumber when an intercom sounded, "Hot dogs!"

  I went downstairs and started looking for the kitchen. Luckily the door was marked kitchen. I stepped inside, and Ben and Manuel were already eating dogs. Lambert handed me a paper plate and a plastic fork. He said, "Shells & Cheese? Green beans?"

  I said, "Sure."

  He put spoonfuls of both on my plate and pointed at the dogs and buns. Ketchup, mustard, and sweet pickle relish were all sitting out.

  Ben shoved half a dog in his mouth. "You could make chili dogs once in a while."

  Lambert snarled. "You could cook once in a while."

  "I just made a pizza last week."

  "Yeah, a frozen pizza."

  "Cool it," Manuel said before spooning shells and cheese into his mouth.

  Lambert and Ben glared at each other.

  I ate.

  When everybody finished and threw their trash away, I said, "When do we get started?"

  Manuel said, "No rush."

  "You said you spent the night on the bus," Ben said. "Take a nap. We can start early tomorrow morning."

  "I think I'll check out Henry's computer," I said. "Maybe file some fraud reports about my bank accounts and credit cards. Can I tell my parents I'm in Dayton?"

  "It's your computer now. Try the clothes," Manuel said. "If they don't fit you, throw them in the big trashcan in the hallway. The vampires likely know you're here: you might as well tell your parents."

  The clothes fit me, but some of them were definitely not me, so I tossed them. I logged fraud reports on my bank account and credit cards. I fixed the background image to a default, so I didn't have the naked woman staring at me. I emailed my dad saying I'd made it to Dayton. I tried the hammock and drifted off to sleep.

  I woke up early and found my way to the showers. I was getting dressed in my room when, "Waffles!" went across the intercom.

  I made my way down to the kitchen. Lambert dropped a waffle on a paper plate and handed me a plastic knife and fork. I said, "Just a waffle?"

  Lambert glared at me. "There's fruit in the fridge."

  I grabbed a banana and an apple out of the fridge and had breakfast. Ben and Manuel joined us. After everybody threw their plates and plasticware away, I asked, "D
o we always eat on paper plates?"

  "I do the cooking," Lambert said. "It's up to Ben and Manuel to clean up afterward, and they prefer paper plates."

  "So, how do we begin?"

  "There are wooden practice swords and books in the basement," Manuel said with a great sweeping motion of his hand. "Nothing is standing in your way."

  "You're not going to teach me?"

  "Your first year you practice alone."

  "My first YEAR?"

  Ben, Lambert, and Manuel all nodded.

  "Why?" I asked.

  "We wouldn't want to pick up any bad habits sparring you," Lambert said.

  "Come on, guys."

  Ben said, "You think you're good?"

  I nodded.

  "I'll spar him once," Lambert said. "Just to show him the error of his ways."

  Manuel said, "OK."

  Ben turned and headed towards the stairs. I quickly followed. Lambert and Manuel lagged a little but were right behind us.

  On reaching the basement, Manuel said, "Try it empty handed first."

  Lambert said, "What?"

  "You might lose your sword someday, Lambert."

  "I'm not going to lose my sword!"

  "Still, I'd like to see how good he is with his hands first."

  Lambert turned to me and bowed.

  "Full contact?" I asked.

  Lambert said, "Yes."

  "Even to the face?"

  "You're not going to hit me, Sidney. You can try as hard as you want."

  He closed the distance to me, and I threw a quick left jab at his nose. It connected, and his head jerked back from the force of the blow. He glared at me and advanced throwing a right at my chin. I batted his hand out of the way at the wrist and threw another left jab at his nose. His head bounced backward again.

  He snarled like a feral cat and threw a jump kick at my head. I blocked it, and as he landed, I threw another quick jab at his nose this time with my stronger right. He lost his balance and sprawled out on the ground. He spit blood on the floor and looked at me with a burning hatred.

  Manuel said, "Enough."

  Ben tossed a wooden sword my way, and I caught it. I had never played with a sword. Lambert grabbed up a sword from the rack and started to make this weird figure eight with it in front of him. It was like facing a wall of wood. As he got close to me, he sped up until his arms and the sword were just a blur.

  I held the sword out in front of me and waited.

  Lambert's sword hit mine knocking it out of the way, and then he planted the point of his sword on my chest. I took a step back. Lambert advanced on me aiming a blow for my neck. It connected, and pain shot through my body. Lambert whispered, "You're dead."

  I tried holding the sword in front of me to protect my body. Lambert dodged in quick and put the point of his sword on my Adam's apple. He whispered, "You're dead."

  He whacked my sword hand with his sword, and I dropped my sword. He planted the point of his weapon on my chest and whispered, "You're dead."

  Manuel said, "Enough."

  "Teach me," I said.

  "No," Ben said. "You need to practice on your own until you become one with the blade."

  "Measure him, Lambert. We'll order his armor," Manuel said. "So that he can at least leave the warehouse with us to go shopping."

  Lambert put his sword back in the rack. He grabbed a tape measure out of a drawer and started taking measurements. After a while, I asked, "You're not writing anything down?"

  Lambert smiled at me. "I have a memory like an elephant. I never forget anything."

  "I'll get your gear ordered," Manuel said. "It'll take two weeks: until then you're on your own."

  I started out simply by looking through the books. They detailed various stances, moves, and forms. I started memorizing everything and then practicing it. Lambert seemed to be the only one inclined to cook, and his favorite meal seemed to be boiled hot dogs. He did vary the side items a bit from time to time, but I often found myself making a bologna or ham sandwich half the time. True to their word, they left me alone in the basement for hours at a time while I studied.

  Manuel, Ben, and Lambert would go on raids every few days. I wasn't privy to what they did, or how many kills they got, or anything. They would just disappear during the day and return a few hours later often with blood splatters on them. It was a Sunday morning, and I was going through a simple little form when Manuel joined me in the basement and said, "We're having a meeting."

  "I'm invited?" I asked.

  "Yeah. Third floor. My office."

  I put the practice sword away and hit the stairs. I was last to reach his office, and when I sat down, he flipped the lights off and turned on an overhead projector. It showed a map of what looked like an extremely small farming town.

  "Since Sidney is new, we gotta start from the top," Manuel said. "This is our settlement. It's located in the foothills of the Rockies. This week they finished the first citrus greenhouse. They'll be planting the oranges and lemons over the next two weeks. Sixteen houses are built. There's a barracks hall, a government office, a church, and a distillery."

  "You're going to try and grow oranges in the foothills of the Rockies?" I asked.

  "It's going to work," Manuel said. "And I want fresh oranges."

  "This is where we're going to go when society finally crumbles," Ben said. "Totally self-contained construction. Everything we need we're building."

  "Distillery?" I asked.

  "So we can have moonshine," Manuel said. "It can be converted to ethanol production if we have to for fuel. But likely the moonshine will have trade value."

  "What about food?"

  Lambert tapped out this little tune on the desk with his fingernails. "We'll have a small, but modern chicken farm. We've already got twenty head of cattle. Every year we're prepping more and more farmland to support a variety of crops."

  "I'm confused."

  "There are two families living there now. You have to have a family to warrant a house, otherwise you'll be in the barracks." Manuel moved the mouse pointer over to a long structure on the map. "The houses are cinderblock construction with underground everything, fuel oil storage, septic tanks, and wells.

  "The houses have solar power as well, and they have wood burning central heat and cooking appliances. The floor plans are very basic. None of it is luxurious; we've only got so much money."

  "I'm still confused."

  "Because you're an idiot. We've two finished warehouses. One is stockpiled with things like toilet paper. The other is hermetically sealed and stockpiles ammunitions and explosives."

  "It's a fort?" I asked.

  "Yes. There's even a small keep in the center with twelve-foot walls and towers on each corner with machine guns."

  "And you're building it because?"

  "We want to have a place to go when the vampires finally take over," Ben said. "We want to have a place to make a stand."

  "If the vampires take over, there'll be so many of them no fort will stand."

  "We don't expect it to stand forever," Manuel said. "If we can squeeze a handful of extra years out of life, we'll be happy. And you don't know. We're building it to stand for a hundred years."

  "Where do you get the money for all this?"

  "We're paid quite handsomely by the church for slaying vampires, and we see it as an investment in our future."

  I nodded.

  Manuel reached into his desk and withdrew four short glass vessels. The kind you’d expect to see in old black&white movies. Then he pulled out a mason jar full of clear liquid and set it on the table.

  Ben said, "New batch?"

  Manuel replied, "Yeah."

  He poured about an inch of the liquid into each glass. Lambert grabbed one up, and Ben reached for a second. Manuel grabbed the third. They waited.

  I said, "I don't drink."

  "You'll drink when I tell you to drink," Manuel said with squinty eyes and a prominent facial tick. "If we lose a teamm
ate, we all get drunk off our asses in tribute to our fallen comrade. Try it."

  I sighed, but I reached for the fourth glass.

  Ben held his glass up. "Cheers!"

  All four of us drank. It tasted like strangely strong water. It warmed my throat and then my stomach. I said, "It tastes like tainted water."

  "That's because they've finally gotten it just right," Ben said. "Mellow and smooth it goes down without an aftertaste. How much do we have, boss?"

  Manuel said, "Two cases of the new batch."

  "I want to get drunk."

  Manuel smiled and nodded.

  Ben took his empty glass and left.

  "Definitely the best batch yet," Lambert said.

  Manuel said, "What do you think, Sidney?"

  I said, "I don't drink."

  "Well, now you know about our secret haven. Think when we move out there you can make yourself useful?"

  "I did construction in the summer time to have money for college."

  "Very nice. What did you study in college?" Manuel asked.

  "Electrical Engineering."

  "Hot damn!" Manuel exclaimed. "You'll come in handy. I'll give you access to an encrypted website that lists every component we're installing. Read the manuals and learn how to repair everything."

  I didn't want to study repair manuals. I couldn't imagine something much more boring other than sitting in a jail cell which I'd done plenty of.

  "You don't want to then you don't have to," he said. "It's entirely up to you."

  I said, "I'll look into it."

  "It's all milspec," Lambert said. "The documentation should be concise and accurate. It's not like we're expecting you to review a bunch of stupid user manuals written for the masses."

  I said, "Milspec?"

  "Military specifications," Manuel said. "Our complexes have the nod of the federal government even though they keep their paws out of it because at least a few of the bureaucrats know the government tends to mess things up."

  "What's so special about milspec?"