by Sam Williams
With the exception of a siren or two and the speed freak in the next room occasionally screaming something about Jesus, Victor rested quite well. He had formulated his plan of attack by breakfast. Details aside, his plan was simple. Get there just before dusk and take the guards out. From what he had seen, the vamps were dug in too deep to get to. So hunting them in the day wouldn't be possible. He would have to catch them just as they were waking up and coming out of hiding. Hopefully, he would find Ricky, and if Ricky wasn't to be found, his plan was the same; kill every last one of them.
Victor parked at the Point again. He quickly grabbed two duffle bags and made his way across the street and back up the hill. This time, he used the scope of his rifle to watch the guard's movements. One slowly paced the road just past the gate by the street. The man stopped to light a cigarette, Victor took aim, and a little breeze blew the crimson spray from the man's head before he dropped to the ground.
Quickly, Victor finished suiting and consolidated what was left into one bag. He ran down the hill, putting his arm through the handles, he slung the bag over his shoulder. Without losing speed, he hopped the fence. Victor found the dead guard and dragged him into the tall weeds. He made his way down the road until he got to the clearing in front of the house. There, he could see one guard on the porch and the other two walking the perimeter of the large tree lined field that surrounded the house. Crouching behind a tree, he dropped the bag in the weeds and pulled the rifle out. He waited for the two in the field to disappear from view on each side of the house. Then, with a tap of his finger, he put the resting guard to sleep permanently.
The dusk had come, giving everything a bluish tint. The fading light made the old house look ancient and forbidding. The upstairs windows reflected the clouds and reminded Victor of the look of death he had seen in Hector's eyes. He stood in front, facing the awful house, waiting. He knew the guards would be going in soon, probably to keep from being eaten themselves. Hopefully, they would use the front door just as they had before. With rifle slung on his back, he drew two silver loaded pistols. With arms outstretched and guns in hand, he waited for the sound of footsteps in the gravel. The guards came around the corner almost in pace. This time death wasn't silent, two shots echoed through the hills. The back of their heads exploded before their faces had time to react.
Victor made his way towards the house. He got no more than ten feet from the porch when he felt the ground begin to shake, they were coming. He knew they were slow at first but picked up speed quick. He was going to have to be fast and keep an eye out for Ricky all at the same time. Seeing mounds of turned earth, in the dark, he could tell where to look for them coming up. They started to spring up faster than he expected, sending dirt flying as they did. Victor emptied the pistols into the creatures rising up all around him, quickly he reloaded. Popping them in the head seemed to do the trick. There was no mistaking the ones he hit; they erupted in flames and black guts. Two had gotten completely out of the ground, they moved with blinding speed. Dark almost turned to day with the blaze from the gun's muzzles and flames from the exploding vampires.
One rushed Victor, knocking him to the ground where he skipped on his back like a stone. Bouncing against the earth, he was able to get off a round, pegging the monster in the head. Victor quickly got on his feet but three more were already out of the ground. He turned and ran for the house. One slammed him from behind, sending Victor's guns flying and Victor through the shut door. The rotted wood disintegrated on impact. Victor landed in a hall, bloodied, by the door. Sitting up, he looked for either pistol as the monsters came towards him. Hairless, pale and nude, their eyes red and mouths open, baring elongated serpent like teeth. It occurred to Victor that Ricky could be any one of them, they all looked alike. Before he could shoot, a huge hand wrapped around the top his head, blinding him and dragging him backwards. He tried to pull the finger to loosen the attacker’s grip when another hand pulled his away, crushing the bones.
He was dragged to a large room, empty of furniture, with wooden floors. The hand on his head was replaced with one around his neck. He could see the walls of the room filling up with hungry and pissed off monsters. The hand around his throat lifted him into the air. It was connected to the huge vampire he had seen a few nights before. In life the monster could have been a pro wrestler and was probably just as ugly.
“Who the hell are you and what are you doing in my house?” The huge vampire’s voice boomed through the room.
“I am looking for my brother.” Victor huffed. Hardly able to speak, he was sure it would be seconds before his neck would snap.
“Ain't that sweet? Well if he had the pleasure of meeting me, he ain't your bro no longer, meat sack.”
Holding and pulling on the wrist of the vampire with his good hand, Victor was able to take enough weight off his neck to say, “You must be Michael?”
The behemoth responded with a grin and began to squeeze Victor's neck.
As Michael squeezed, Victor fought the agonizing pain and with his broken hand popped the cap of the vile and stuck it in his leg.
He shut his eyes. Suddenly the pain went away and he could hear the hisses of a hundred thoughts from the monsters that surrounded him. He could feel his wounds healing and a rush far beyond adrenaline. Victor focused, cleared his mind, and then opened his eyes. With invisible speed, he unsheathed a large silver plated knife.
Michael's arm stayed outstretched even as his hand was detached in a spray of blood. His hand fell from Victor's neck. Victor hit the floor and with the same unnatural speed, he sliced through the vampire's ankles, leaving the feet standing as the giant fell to the floor. Standing up, Victor looked as the giant with three bloody stumps struggled to sit up.
“Where's my brother, Michael?”
“I am sure he’s dust at the CDC, that's how they all end up.” Michael said while trying to stand on his stumps.
“Wrong answer.” And with that Victor took Michael's head. As it went flying through the air, Victor swung around with knife in hand and asked, “Who's next?”
Embracing his new abilities, Victor went to work doing what he did best. Outside, the windows of the farmhouse flashed with the light of exploding vampires.
When all was done, Victor dragged the bodies of the dead guards into the burning house.
The next day Victor had the worst hangover (if you can call it that) of his life. It left him bedridden for a day. The day after, at breakfast, he told his Mom that Ricky wouldn't be coming home. He didn't have details and she didn't ask, only stating she knew, before crying on his shoulder. The rest of the week was as good as it could be. When Angie saw him off at the airport, she promised to look after his Mom before saying goodbye.
Sitting on the plane, Victor whispered a prayer for his brother. As the plane took off, he stared out the window and wondered if he was ever going to get an actual vacation.