Rescue From Planet Pleasure

by Mario Acevedo

  We are blocking Phaedra’s escape. The familiar voice unraveled in my mind. Yellowhair-Chavez. He advanced toward us, slender legs pivoting like stilts, preternatural hide shimmering like metallic gauze. He pointed his elongated, sightless head at me. We cannot kill her but we can deny her entry access to the psychic portals.

  I replied, “I thought you couldn’t interfere.”

  Technically, no. But I’m bending the rules. Capiche?

  I nodded. “Capiche.”

  You have until daybreak.

  “That’s plenty of time.” Jolie hustled to the ruins. “You guys cover me.”

  ***

  Chapter Fifty

  Jolie ran ahead of Carmen and me. She hurtled a wall and dropped out of sight. Didn’t she know our chances were better if we attacked as one?

  I wanted to chase after her, but I couldn’t leave Carmen, who wasn’t in any shape to go leaping through these ruins. The best Carmen could do was amble forward, and she winced in pain with every step. My nerves were still frazzled from the repeated psychic blasts. Jolie’s must have been as well. But she smelled prey, and like an injured shark, ignored her wounds and dashed impulsively for the kill.

  The skin-walkers wandered closer to the ruins. I didn’t know how their magic worked but they had boxed in Phaedra so we vampires could finish her off. For now, her dreams for domination of the undead world were in tatters, but she remained as dangerous as a viper.

  Alone, Carmen and I wended through the maze of broken adobe walls, worn smooth by centuries of erosion. The crisp night air magnified the crunch of our footfalls on the sand. My fangs and claws were extended, and my finger curved over the trigger of my Marlin. I wanted to call out for Jolie, but then I’d give away my location.

  A gunshot rang out. Then another. Then a woman’s muffled cry of pain.

  Carmen and I froze, hoping to hear Jolie shout that she had gunned down Phaedra.

  Nothing but silence.

  We had stopped in a narrow corridor between two walls that stood taller than our heads. I peeked through a gap in the wall at my right and saw yet another wall. Too bad the crows weren’t around. I could use their scouting skills.

  Another cry shattered the quiet. Carmen and I traded anxious glances. It was Jolie. This scream was louder, more brittle, and very close.

  Jolie needed help, now! I whispered to Carmen, “Catch up when you can.”

  I gathered my strength and sprang upward. I cleared the first wall, landed on the dirt, then flung myself over top of a second wall, ready to shoot.

  A psychic blast knocked me blind. I came to as I tumbled across the ground and landed on my belly. The Marlin clattered just out of reach.

  Felix, look at me.

  A giant invisible hand clamped onto my skull and lifted my head from the dirt.

  Phaedra had pinned Jolie to a wall. Their auras had melded in a boiling swirl of red, orange, yellow, and green. Jolie’s legs thrashed beneath her and it was Phaedra’s hold on her neck that kept her from sliding to the ground. Jolie’s arms hung to her sides and the .45s lay by her feet. Her eyes were bugged out, and her mouth opened to let loose another cry, a humiliating, frail sound that reminded me how impotent we could be against this evil cunt.

  Phaedra stared hungrily at Jolie, the same way a serial killer studies a victim, searching for the best way to feed on the agony. She wore a denim jacket over a black lacey skirt and a matching waist sash decorated with glass vials, human bones, and dead crows. Clusters of herbs and dried flower blossoms clung to her tangled tresses. Phaedra looked like a teenage hippie chick who had given up granola and patchouli for torture and murder.

  I groped for my carbine. Another mind blast slapped my brain. A dull ache replaced the receding pain. I blinked my eyes back into focus.

  Adobe walls enclosed us on three sides. A rectangular hole had been recently dug in the center of the enclosure. Wooden surveyor’s stakes marked the corners of the hole. A small metal trailer rested close to the hole. The side of the trailer bore the markings: University of New Mexico, Native American Studies. The lock on the rear door had been torn off and the trailer gaped open. Shovels, a pick ax, and brooms lay scattered about.

  I pushed from the ground to sit up. The world wobbled around me, and it took all my resolve just to keep from toppling over.

  Phaedra pulled Jolie close.

  Now for a taste of victory.

  Phaedra opened her mouth and clamped her fangs to Jolie’s throat. A ring of white light burned where her lips touched. She released Jolie, who fell gasping and clutching at her neck. Her fading aura resembled the hesitant flames over a dying bed of coals.

  Wiping her lips, Phaedra stepped back and licked blood from her fingers. Another blast kept me dizzy. An electric tingling itched my skin and paralyzed my limbs.

  This war is far from over. Once I kill you three pests, I’ll regroup and start over. You have taught me much, and in gratitude, you will all get a quick death.

  She bent down and picked up a shovel.

  Watch.

  Phaedra kicked Jolie onto her back. She planted her bare foot on Jolie’s chest and gripped the shovel with both hands, lifting it to use the blade as a guillotine. I struggled to move my hands and legs, but nothing worked.

  An outburst of cawing thundered like a blast of artillery. A wave of crows surged over the walls and plunged down on Phaedra. They tore at her face and hair while she swatted at them with the shovel.

  Her aura condensed and an intense keening drilled my ears. She pulsed her aura and its energy splashed like heat. Smoking bits of crow pelted me.

  Weakened by the effort to create the pulse, Phaedra let her shoulders droop for a moment, then took her place over Jolie.

  I drew from a reserve deep inside of me. Her spell fought back and tightened its chokehold on my kundalini noir. Trembling from the strain, I managed to slide my hand inside my jacket for the Colt magnum.

  Phaedra lowered the shovel, turned her head and glowered. Her spell loosened from my kundalini noir and wormed into my right arm. My fingers closed around the grip of the pistol and slid it out of my jacket. My arm moved robotically, horrifically, and my wrist twisted until the pistol swung toward my face. The depleted uranium-silver bullets glistened in the cylinders like metallic pellets of poison. The muzzle’s bore appeared monstrously large, like the gun wanted to swallow me.

  Now stand up.

  My legs pushed me upright. My shoulders turned so I faced Jolie, and the rest of my body rotated awkwardly like I was a marionette.

  Jolie pushed up from the ground, staggering as if punch drunk and braced against the adobe wall. My arm shifted and pointed the revolver at her.

  Now shoot her.

  My finger curled against the trigger, then stopped. The front sight danced across Jolie’s body.

  Phaedra’s spell clasped my wrist to hold the gun steady and centered on Jolie’s belly. My trigger finger started to squeeze but I fought to keep it frozen. Her spell coiled around my hand and my fingers cramped in the effort to resist. At the instant I thought she would win, I jerked to the left. The magnum boomed and spat a ball of flame. The slug chopped into the wall inches to Jolie’s side.

  A sharp blow clipped the back of my head. Phaedra was beside me, drawing the shovel back for another swing.

  Again.

  My arm grew rigid and pointed the pistol at Jolie. Phaedra’s spell felt like two hands had seized my wrist to aim the magnum. My finger took up the slack of the trigger and stopped. Needles of pain sank to my knuckles, forcing the finger to tighten. At the moment when I could no longer stand the pain, I leaned backwards. The magnum fired harmlessly into the air.

  Phaedra clubbed the shovel against the back of my head. Stars of pain whirled in front of my eyes.

  What’s the matter, Felix? She swung the shovel.

  Wham! Another blow to the back of my head.

  Why are you resisting me? Did you think I would ever turn out any different than this? You knew
from the beginning how dangerous I could be. Yet you turned me. You could’ve let me die.

  Another blow. This time the stars burned through my brain.

  But you didn’t. I guess I owe you. I should call you daddy.

  Another blow. The agony clanged in my skull.

  Daddy.

  Wham!

  Daddy.

  Pain melted my resolve. Where was Carmen? Why wasn’t she using her powers to deflect Phaedra’s spell? Maybe Carmen was too weak. Then she shouldn’t stay. She should leave Jolie and me and save herself to continue the fight at another time. And where were the crows? El Cucuy?

  Words clogged my throat, and her spell loosened enough to let me talk. The words croaked free. “Enough. You win. Just don’t hit me anymore.”

  Another blow. Why not? I’m getting the hang of this.

  Phaedra’s spell evaporated from me. Jolie’s aura flashed in pain, and she crumpled to the ground.

  I had only managed a quick pulse of relief before the spell returned, plunging back through my kundalini noir and taking control of my arm.

  I jerked the trigger twice and the two bullets ricocheted against the wall.

  Four rounds expended, two remaining.

  Phaedra hit me again with the shovel. Goddammit, what is wrong with you?

  I wanted to drop from the pain but her spell kept me from toppling over.

  You don’t want to play, then fine. My spine straightened like a string pulled me upward by my neck. My arm twisted and brought the pistol back to my head, then pressed the end of the barrel against my temple. The more I wrestled to regain control of my arm, the harder the muzzle pushed. My consciousness shrank around the ring of steel digging into my skin. My kundalini noir quivered like it was going to shake itself to pieces. At any instant, the depleted uranium slug was going to blow my skull apart and paint the adobe with my brains. The tension of my impending death made my mind scream.

  I waited. Phaedra’s hold on my kundalini noir tightened and relaxed. It tightened again, but not as strong. Something was happening. I was able to swivel my eyes and caught that Phaedra was watching one corner of the enclosure. I panned my gaze to see what.

  Carmen staggered around the corner of a wall, tramping step-by-step as if advancing through a gale-force wind. She and Phaedra locked eyes. Spikes of hatred jutted from both of their auras.

  Carmen raised her hands. Claws extended, she advanced on Phaedra, who staggered backwards and cocked the shovel to swing it like a club.

  The spell on me weakened. And on Jolie. She rolled onto her belly and inched toward Phaedra. My arm dropped into my side. It felt rubbery and useless so I snatched the magnum with my other hand and aimed at Phaedra.

  Jolie extended an arm and snagged Phaedra’s ankle. I held the pistol as steady as I could and fired. The bullet smacked Phaedra’s shin. She cried out, dropped the shovel, and collapsed onto her back.

  The spell vanished and I sank to my knees. Too weak to raise the magnum, I watched Phaedra try to kick free of Jolie, who dug talons into her ankle. Blood gushed from the wounds.

  Carmen shambled toward them. Phaedra tried to crawl backwards but Jolie held fast to her shattered, bleeding leg.

  I reached deep and rallied my strength. I aimed the revolver at Phaedra’s torso and squeezed the trigger. The pistol barked flame. Phaedra shook as if kicked. She fell flat and lay still.

  Then her head raised. Her eyes burned bright as a welding torch. Her lips parted wide, displaying her fangs. The back of her mouth began to glow and a shriek and a flame of sparks blasted out. She raked this flame at Jolie, then me. The sensation was like my kundalini noir was pelted by screaming, red-hot ball bearings.

  Cringing, I brought my hands up to shield myself.

  She aimed this flame at Carmen, who staggered backwards from the blow. The sparks ricocheted off Carmen like a stream of water striking a pole.

  The flame and the shriek stopped. Phaedra stared at us, looking haggard, her face creased with wrinkles like this last attack had drained years from her spirit.

  Carmen spied one of the surveyor’s stakes, dragged her feet close and yanked it free. She lifted it to her chest. Phaedra watched, too weak to move.

  Jolie crawled forward and grabbed Phaedra’s left wrist and pinned her arm to the ground. I pushed myself toward our young monster and seized her right wrist. She tried to pull free but my fingers became like iron.

  Phaedra scowled at us. “All of you, you’re going to eat shit in hell. You think this is over. I’ll come back. I’ll find a way.” She let loose a string of curses that would’ve burned the ears off a stevedore.

  Carmen held the stake firm, the point away from her body. “Bitch, shut the fuck up.” She positioned herself between Phaedra’s feet and let herself topple forward.

  Phaedra jerked her arms, but Jolie and I held firm. The stake punched into her sternum. She bellowed in pain. Blood spurted. Carmen fell flat against her. She pushed up to straddle Phaedra’s hips. Carmen’s hair swayed in greasy strands. Tendrils of rage lashed from the penumbra of her aura like she was channeling the fury of a lightning storm.

  With a grunt and a sneer of contempt, Carmen shifted her weight against the stake and it sank deeper, crunching through bone, releasing another spray of blood.

  Phaedra’s hands curled into fists. Her thoughts screamed into my head.

  Pain. Mercy. Pain.

  Carmen twisted the stake and screwed it in deeper. More blood gushed upward. She grunted again and gave the stake another twist.

  Phaedra’s fingers slowly unclenched.

  Pain. Pai—

  Her aura contracted and dimmed. Carmen gave the stake one more twist. The aura disappeared as if Carmen had flicked a switch.

  Carmen scooted off Phaedra and plopped against a wall. The dust of dried vampire blood sloughed from her face and hands. Jolie dragged herself to Carmen and wrapped an arm around her waist. She rested her head on Carmen’s thigh. Carmen closed her eyes and stroked Jolie’s hair. A dozen crows crept from the shadows and formed an arc around them.

  A skin-walker sauntered into the enclosure like a bizarre caricature of a horse entering a stable. An iridescent gloss scrolled though his hide and his outline shrank into the shape of a man. Yellowhair-Chavez. He looked at Carmen and Jolie, then cocked his head to study Phaedra’s corpse.

  “Any final words?” I asked in a raspy voice.

  “I’ve dated worse.” He turned and walked away.

  Too weak to do anything but rest, I lay on the ground. The back of my head ached. I could use aspirin. Better yet, morphine.

  Staring at the stars, I remembered all of the vampires who had fallen in this war. I also remembered the four chalices on D-Galtha who had sacrificed themselves: Toby, Irsan, Cassie, and Juanita. I set aside my grief to chuckle sardonically that despite the odds, we had triumphed.

  ***

  Chapter Fifty-one

  The western horizon brightened from indigo to azure. In a few moments the morning sun would crest the mesa and its rays would blast over us.

  Carmen, Jolie, and I stood beside the Cress Tech Humvee. The Chaco Ruins were between us and the rising sun. We were dressed head-to-toe in thick clothing that included hoods, gloves, and welders’ masks. A dozen other vampires, similarly clad, stood alongside us. Soon after Carmen had killed Phaedra, vampires converged upon our location in a fleet of Humvees and MRAPs. They were the rest of Antoine and King Gullah’s force and had arrived too late to help us fight. The force was led by Mel Moretti, the whiskered leader of the Denver nidus, and Dan Sky-Pony, an old friend of Carmen’s I hadn’t seen for years. They shared their stash of heavy clothes so we could join them at this funeral.

  Our vehicles were scattered along of the bottom slope of the mesa. Fifty yards away, Phaedra’s naked, headless body lay close to the rim of a kiva in the center of the ruins.

  Mel and his vampires had rounded up Phaedra’s human minions, fanged and turned them, then cut off their heads. As dead vampi
res, they would be easier to dispose of. Their naked, decapitated bodies lay beside hers, all lined up like the catch of the day. The other headless bodies belonged to the remaining rogue vampires, also captured and executed. All the severed heads had been collected into a pyramid, Phaedra’s on top. The remains of the suicide-bomber vampires—torn limbs, fragments of torsos, assorted organs—had been likewise gathered for destruction.

  Off to the side lay another line of undead, mangled remains. These belonged to Antoine and King Gullah and the rest of the crew we had scraped from the debris of their doomed helicopter.

  To protect the Great Secret, we presented what was left of our bloodsucking kin—friend and foe—to be ravaged and consumed by the rising sun. Standing ramrod straight, we resembled stone sentinels jutting from the hard-scrabble landscape. Normally we vampires hid from the deadly reach of the dawn’s rays. But when it was time to offer our fellow vampires to the sun, especially en masse as we were doing today, we did so in a ceremony to pay homage in this final adios amigos.

  A flock of crows landed among us. They turned toward the sun and held still.

  The sun peeked over the horizon. The tinted lens of my visor dimmed the harsh light. A faint hum echoed through me, a noise that didn’t register in my ears but instead quivered through my nerves.

  The sun floated above the horizon, its light exploding in nuclear brilliance. The humming sound raked needles across the inside of my skin. My kundalini noir vibrated like a crystal goblet on the verge of shattering. The mask became stifling hot. I squinted, then clenched my eyes. I saw red through my eyelids, then orange, and when the light threatened to burn my retinas, I raised a gloved hand to shield my face.

  The sun’s rays baked my hand and shoulders, then my chest. The humming noise sharpened to a whine. The sun rose and levered a wave of heat down my body. To my belly. My hips. My thighs. Shins. Feet. The heat cooled. I opened my eyes and dropped my hand. All the other vampires were also lowering theirs so it appeared as though we had just finished saluting the sun.

  The white edge of sunlight crept from us to the corpses at the ruins. The instant the light touched undead flesh, the skin crinkled and smoldered. Phaedra’s belly tore open, spilling guts that writhed and shriveled in the dirt. Like the others, her body crumbled, revealing bone, which broke apart and disintegrated into ash.