Blood Crusade

by Billita Jacobsen

  He gave her a kiss on the cheek while she balanced her dish. “Heather, I’d like you to meet my cousin, here on vacation. This is…”

  “Hi Heather,” I blurted out before Percy could give me a stupid name, “I’m Jasmine, it’s so nice to meet you.”

  She rewarded me with a sincere, friendly smile.

  “Let’s find a table,” Percy said, “my father will be joining us too. He wants to meet you.”

  “Oh,” Heather said, quite obviously not accustomed to anything out of the ordinary, “I wish you would have told me Percy. I would have dressed up.”

  I was hoping that there were no more surprises for any of us, like Lance inviting Mr. Dashing to join us. That would ruin my appetite. Actually, whether any food would make it to my stomach was questionable, there was too much interference from the butterflies flapping around.

  We went back to the food line where it was slim pickings for a vegetarian. I noticed that Heather went to the salad bar, as did I, while Percy walked incredibly close to her while whispering in her ear.

  The buffet was wasted on all of us. “Are you a vegetarian, Heather?” I had to ask.

  “Yes,” she replied, “it looks like you are too. I never ate meat growing up; my Dad made wonderful meals without it.”

  “Was your mother a vegetarian too?” Again, I had to ask.

  “I don’t know,” she said, sitting down at our table. “She died when I was very young.”

  Thankfully, she couldn’t see the look of shock on my face as Lance returned and Percy introduced them. I ate in silence, chewing food that had no taste for me. This wasn’t how I imagined our reunion. My worry of running into Mr. Dashing was gnawing at me.

  “I thought we could go to Gold Diggers after dinner for some drinks to celebrate Heather’s graduation,” Percy announced. Then, giving Lance a clue of my imposter identity, he said, “Jasmine, would you like to come with? I’d like to spend time with my cousin and I’m sure your Uncle Lance has missed you.” He looked at me and flashed that familiar smirk.

  “Yes, please come,” Heather added. “I’d love to have you there. She gifted me with a soft smile, her eyes shining with gentleness.

  “I’d love to help celebrate your graduation,” I said, flashing back on the wonderful child she had been and the lovely adult she now was. My eyes began to tear up so I quickly looked away to be greeted by a sight that made me bolt. “Excuse me…I’ll meet up with you at Gold Diggers.”

  Mark Antony was heading to our table, looking directly at me. He waved his muscular arm, saluting a greeting. Lance thought he was being waved at. “Hello, Mark,” he said, directing him in with a signaling motion.

  I walked with single-minded determination to get out of the room, brushing past Dashing without glancing in his devastating direction. He followed me past the entrance. “Nola, wait, just what do you think you’re doing? I warned you to leave Vegas.” He grabbed my arm, forcing me to stop and face him.

  “Don’t touch me, asshole,” I whispered.

  “What’s going on here?” Lance questioned, arriving by my side. “Nola, are you alright?”

  “I’d like to know what she’s doing with you and Percy,” Mark said, his British accent dripping with coldness. “I should warn you, she’s a hunter. And she was advised to get out of Vegas.”

  Lance shook his head with force. “No, you are mistaken Mark. She hunts for rogue vampires, true, but she’s not an associate of those who hunt all vampires. Nola works for me.”

  Mark started laughing—a genuine, deep from the stomach chortle. “She works for you! Of course, that’s perfect. And we all work for that maniac Claudius. The jokes on all of us, isn’t it?” Narrowing his perfect brown eyes, he whispered, “So, Nola, do you seduce all the rogue vampires you’re hunting?”

  There it was, out in the open, everything I’d feared would happen. The truth for Lance to hear—the night I was so ashamed of. I forced myself to look at Lance. I’ve never seen such a look of complete disappointment and disgust on his kind face, more than when he discovered I’d killed his informant.

  Percy and Heather walked with hesitation to our little gathering of disillusionment. Lance quickly said, without introducing Dashing to Heather, “We’ll be a minute Percy; let’s meet at the nightclub.”

  Percy, insensitive as I believed him to be, recognized our distress by saying “okay” and hurrying away with Heather. For that I was grateful.

  When they were out of earshot I turned on Dashing. “You arrogant bastard. What do you mean I seduced you?”

  “Nola,” Lance calmly said in a steady voice, “Let’s just leave.”

  “You can’t go,” Mark proclaimed, “I need your help.”

  He would be the last vampire I would ever help. “Yes, Lance. Please, let’s just go.”

  The familiar scent of Mark’s Green Irish Tweed drifted into my nostrils. “Perhaps I should explain,” he crafted in his accent, “humans need your help. Claudius is unleashing zombies somewhere Downtown, tonight, as a trial run. He’s genetically engineered the zombie virus and plans to overtake the world with it.”

  “Fuck!” I blurted out. “Are you kidding me?”

  Even with hundreds of years of study, there’s a low insight about the zombie virus, or any virus, for that matter. Scientists even disagree on whether a virus is alive or not and where they came from—some speculate that they were delivered from space by comets. There are millions of viruses and continuing debate on whether the tiny parasites are responsible for our evolution. Some Camelot scientists believe the zombie virus came first, branched out and mutated into the werewolf virus, and from there to the top of the food chain—the vampire virus, but they don’t know for sure.

  It figures that Claudius and his scientists gathered enough information to genetically encode the zombie virus and destroy the world with it—that must be the information contained in Hypatia’s papers. Scientists at Camelot experimented on the unfortunate creatures, trying to find a cure for the zombie virus but were unsuccessful, how could they possibly prevail against a genetically engineered virus? The zombie virus takes the soul of its victim while not allowing the body to die—there were no remnants remaining of the person left behind—just a mindless, killing vessel that spreads the infection. We all feared a virus with no cure. Lance took pity on the zombies in the lab and ordered them humanely put down. It was something we would need to repeat tonight before the zombie scourge spread into Las Vegas.

  Lance just took it all in, as he usually did, analyzing every word. “You know I hate Claudius,” Dashing said, looking at my beloved. “Claudius forced me to murder the only woman I loved.” He then turned to look at me. “Unfortunately, I can’t betray him if I’m under orders. However, he seems preoccupied lately and I’m not involved with this zombie scheme. Claudius gave me no commands. I overheard their evil plans, they’re calling it step one to instill terror in the humans. I want to stop it. Will you help me do that?” He gave us both his soft, beckoning look with those gorgeous brown eyes.

  “Of course we’ll help,” Lance quickly answered. “Unleashing zombies seems rather foolhardy though. Claudius must be mad.” Indeed, it was reckless, even vampires avoid zombies, aspiring to avoid being eaten.

  “I suppose you could call them Frankenzombies,” Mark said. “They have been encoded with a kill switch to self-destruct after four months, so they will be wandering, virus-spreading killing machines for a short time. There’s method to the madness of Claudius.”

  Lance’s new buddy Mark took out his cell phone. “I can download an app on your phone,” he told Lance, “it allows us to use our phones as walkie-talkies. I’ll head out to Fremont Street and you’ll have a good vantage point on the Gold Diggers balcony. We can keep a look-out and strike when we see them.”

  I decided the best way to tell Percy to get Heather out of Downtown was to call him before we arrived at their table. Mr. Dashing must have thought I wanted his walkie-talkie appy thing too and grabbed my
phone. It was kind of a cool app, so I let him proceed, giving him my most piercing dirty look. He gave me his charming smile and handed my phone back to me in less than a minute. He was a quick downloader.

  We headed up the stairs leading to the nightclub. “This is where we part company,” Mark said, “I’ll give you fifteen minutes to get clear of your company before we start communicating.” I stopped in the middle of the stairway to phone Percy and hoped he was bright enough not to give me away.

  “Listen carefully,” I said with a fury when he answered, “We’re almost there. We can have one quick drink and then you need to get Heather away from Downtown. Claudius is setting zombies loose and you need to get her to safety. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, I understand. I didn’t plan on working tonight but if it’s an emergency I can stop in. I’ll be there in twenty minutes.” He was a quick study for such a jerk.

  They were sitting at a table on the Gold Diggers patio that had views of the party palace known as Downtown. The area was pedestrian friendly and tourists plowed through the street, imbibing huge alcoholic concoctions in souvenir plastic glasses. Fremont Street was hot, literally and with tourists. At night, cold-blooded, heartless souls, some vampire, some human, roamed the busy path looking for victims.

  On my last foray there, I’d run across a bum, passed out on the hard street, most likely unconscious from drinking too much. People walked by as if this was a common occurrence. I dialed 911 since passing out on a stifling hot sidewalk in Las Vegas is a death sentence when the sun is out on a hot summer day. Too many people don’t want interference in their daily lives and so they ignore what they can. The bum would have been ignored to death.

  I see the same ignorance every day. People ignore the evil in the world so they can lead uneventful lives with family and friends. I tried to do the same, if only for a moment.

  Percy had ordered champagne and filled our glasses to toast Heather. “Here’s to my girl,” he said, looking at her fondly, “congratulations on becoming a teacher. You’re going to inspire a lot of future generations.”

  My graceful daughter actually knew not to drink a toast in her honor and she quietly said, “Thank you baby.” Glancing at us she smiled, “Thank you for joining us.”

  I almost spit out my champagne. Baby, she called him Baby. It was worse than I imagined.

  “I’m so sorry we have to cut short our celebration but there’s an emergency at the farm’s shipping facility and I need to stop there,” Percy said. Putting an arm around Heather, he whispered, “I’ll make it up to you, honey.”

  Before I barfed from Percy’s sickening show of affection, I had to make sure there was a future connection with Heather. “It was so nice to meet you,” I said, “we should get to know each other better. I’d love to treat you to a spa day on Wednesday. Can I get your cell phone number and call you?”

  I put her on the spot, no doubt. Percy shot me a disapproving look. Heather was not assertive and said softly, “of course,” giving me her number. I was fervently relieved as they said their goodbyes. She would be safe from the zombies and I would see her again.

  Lance and I quietly surveyed Fremont Street. He was obviously giving me the cold shoulder. I knew that nothing would be the same between us. There was a zip line on the street where patrons flew out of a twelve story high imitation slot machine called Slotzilla, in a harness and usually screaming. Between that and the canopy of bright neon lights, people keep their eyes up and would not see a deadly danger coming right towards them.

  Downtown was like a crazy carnival with street performers ranging from those dressed as Spiderman to a woman in a white lace wedding gown barking at tourists to stop and pay for a photo with them. The barrel vault canopy above the street shot off bright, multi-colored light show visuals while the Imagine Dragon’s song “Radioactive” played at an ear-deafening level. The atmosphere was loud and intense, carrying a mixture of hope and desperation from the crowd. Hope from those who just arrived with money in their pockets and desperation from those who lost it all in the casinos and had too much to drink.

  “Come in Lance. I’ve spotted them–coming up slowly to Fremont by the side of the outdoor cafe. Can you see them? Over.” Mark’s voice crackled over the walkie-talkie cell phone.

  We both peered in the direction of Binions Casino by the music platform. There were three of them, easily mistaken for drunken tourists, weaving their way towards the crowd, stumbling and groaning. They were ripe and rotting, most likely dead for weeks. I could smell them from the balcony. I’m not sure how one delivers zombies but they must have been dropped off by 1st Street. Of course, they would gravitate towards the sounds and lights of the Fremont Street Experience. It was about to become a horrible experience unless we caught the zombies before they got to the tourists.

  Blood seeped from their eyes and chunks of flesh hung from their faces and arms. The Frankenzombies lurched forward, arms outstretched, ready to grab any living thing in their path. One of them paused long enough to have a sneezing, coughing fit, spreading germs in flying pieces of mucus. They were easily identified as prisoners; they all had on blood-stained, tattered, faded orange prison jumpsuits. Claudius had his dirty, pudgy fingers in the for-profit prison scheme and they were no doubt murdered and turned into Frankenzombies at one of those penitentiaries.

  “Come in Mark. We see them. Try to get behind them and we’ll take the front,” Lance said, jumping over the balcony to the street below. He was hardly noticed. I followed him in the thirty foot drop, a few tourists glancing my way.

  We were fast but not quick enough to save a tourist couple looking up at the zipline, dressed for a night out on the town. They both carried Binion’s cowboy boot cups filled with booze. I saw them smile at each other; they never heard my screams of “Run! Get the fuck out of there!”

  The zombies were on them, lunging and ripping off their flesh before we could reach them. The twosome screamed in agony as the genetically modified monsters tore muscles and skin from their bodies as if they were chewing on turkey drumsticks. Nearby tourists noticed the carnage and began screaming too. The crowds began running from the shrieks and spurting blood.

  Mark grabbed a corpse from behind and literally punched through his head, rotting brains dripping from his hands. Lance flew at the zombie eating the unfortunate woman tourist. He twisted its head off and bashed its brains into the concrete. I quickly dispatched the last zombie with a swift blow to the head with my dagger. The couple crawled to each other and clutched in a bloody embrace.

  “We have no choice,” Lance said, solemnly gazing at me.

  “I know,” I said, bending down towards the couple. “I’m sorry,” I whispered to them, plunging my dagger first in the woman’s head and then in her beloved. Another war crime that Claudius would pay for, I vowed.

  “That’s it, three zombies?” Lance questioned.

  “It would seem so. Claudius wanted to spread some terror and do a field test, he most likely has soldiers nearby to contain it from spreading,” Mark answered.

  “What a stupid idea! It could easily have gotten out of control!” I exclaimed.

  “Well, Claudius is a lunatic, nothing he does makes sense to me,” Mark said.

  The sound of approaching sirens warned us it was time to flee. Lance and Mark, without a word, stood on each side of me, respectively holding an arm and escorting me up to the air for our getaway. While it was only a hovering trip, it was the closest I would ever get to flying. Feeling like Lois Lane in Superman, I enjoyed the exhilaration of moving across the sky that would end as soon as my feet hit the ground.

  Chapter 15: Beware the Silver Lining

  Dashing gave a final, familiar pat to my derriere as we landed by my rental house. “Good job, my friends,” he said, giving a salute and literally taking off.

  “So long, asshole,” I whispered, “and you’re not my friend.” The last waft of his cologne teased my nostrils and left me wanting more of his scent. I was incor
rect thinking its aroma would never be pleasing to me again.

  “I heard that Nola,” Dashing said, his voice carrying in the hot wind, “vampire hearing, you know. We vanquished zombies together. You are now my friend.”

  Shrugging my shoulders, I turned to face Lance. “I don’t know what to say…I’m so sorry Lance, I never should have…”

  “I’ll get over it Nola, don’t worry,” Lance calmly stated. “I have to leave now. Otis will stay here and help you guard the children and Harold. I’ll be in touch tomorrow.”

  Get over it? What did that mean? Get over me? I thought but said, “Who the hell is Otis?”

  The front door to the rental was opened by Mr. Fructose. He was holding Robin in one arm and a chocolate bar in the other, smiling, with brown smudge below his lips he said, “Hey boss, I thought I heard voices, glad you’re back.”

  Clearly, he wasn’t addressing me. “Otis,” Lance said, “thanks for helping out. Can I impose on you a little longer to make this your post and assist for a few days?”

  “Your name is Otis? Actually, yes thanks, but we don’t need any help. We’re doing just fine,” I announced. I ran into him from time to time at Camelot although I did my best to avoid him. It wasn’t surprising I didn’t remember his name since I didn’t go out of my way to memorize anyone’s name at Camelot.

  The Professor picked that inopportune time to appear at the door behind Fructose to proclaim, “Otis has been wonderful! I can’t tell you how much I appreciate his assistance. He’s already offered to stay and I’ve given him our spare bedroom.”

  “Keep the car here Otis. I’ll see you all tomorrow, farewell,” Lance said, rising to the sky and disappearing in the moonlight before I could object.

  My funk accompanied me as I walked into the house to be greeted by complete disorder. The kitchen had become a laboratory. Large containers of yellowish water and batteries littered my granite countertops. Plastic containers of distilled water were on the floor. Bars of silver were connected by alligator clips to the batteries. “What the fuck is going on?” I asked with obscenity.