“Yes, exhausting is the word,” I said, thinking of how Otis annoys me for some reason.
“Nola, I said exhausted!” Harold admonished.
The villagers began to mill about the dance floor and people were mingling. I recognized some of them--the lady who played the church organ, the man who sold me treats from the pet store, and the mailman from the post office. Sadly, I couldn’t remember any of their names but it never had posed a problem for me, even when they knew my name and said, “Hi Nola, how are you?” I always smiled and just said hello.
Children were scampering around the tables, playing and stopping to pet the vampire guard dogs posted near the elevator and staircase. Go-Go enjoyed paddling in the air, floating around the room, and growling when he swept past my seat.
My favorite part of Camelot events began with the song “Dancing on the Ceiling” by Lionel Richie. The vampires always invited a human to dance with them as they rose to the ceiling to move to the music. Lance never failed to gallantly say to me, “May I have this dance?” Tonight however, he didn’t rise to the occasion when the song began playing and let me sit in silence. I was floored, literally.
Lady Catherine swayed to The Professor with her arms outstretched, “Shall we?” she asked.
“I’d be delighted,” he proclaimed, handing Robin to the Master. She placed her arms under his and swept him away.
Master Kong picked up Robin and turned around and around in a slow swirl to the top of the room. I worried for a brief second, as one does when someone throws a child up into the air, but Master had a firm grip on her and his coordination was never in question. She laughed with a child’s delight, enjoying the ascent to the height of the ceiling. Alexander followed them both, floating to the domed ceiling.
The dance ceiling became crowded as humans relished moving to the music and the flight provided by the vamps. All the fair maidens had their eyes on Galahad, the most handsome vampire when Percy wasn’t present. He resembled a younger Lance but with finer features and longer, curly blond hair with one wisp that fluttered on his forehead, just above his vibrant blue eyes with long lashes that a woman could only replicate with several layers of mascara. Galahad delighted the organist by inviting her to dance. She was actually blushing as Galahad placed his arms around her waist, perhaps due to the lewd thoughts she had about the unattainable vampire.
I was beginning to wonder what was taking Hector, Sam, and Lozen so much time getting back when the second song began to play. Some of the dancers remained near the ceiling as “Fly Like An Eagle” by the Steve Miller Band, my favorite melody, rang out. Lance finally looked in my direction and said, “Nola, may I have this dance?”
I rose in anticipation of having Lance hold me in his arms. He was my shining light and represented my dream of a perfect relationship if only he would cooperate. How long could I possibly wait for friendship to turn into something more? Thinking of my night with Mr. Dashing, probably not long enough.
“Have you heard from Percy yet?” I asked as we rose to the upper level of the hall.
No answer, not even a nod or shaking of his head. He was totally ignoring my question. Talking to Lance was sometimes like trying to have a conversation with a zombie. He simply ignored what he did not want to answer.
“Okay Lance, just leave me hanging, that’s fine,” I said, realizing the irony as I was literally dangling in space.
Lance had a firm grip on my back and grasped my right hand in his while holding me close enough so I wouldn’t fall. We twirled in the air to the beat of the music. I smiled and nodded at Harold and Catherine as we rotated past them. The Master, nearby and holding Robin, said, “Look around Nola, the joy is palpable, proof of my proverb that a nation’s character is exemplified by its dancers—so many are sharing and spreading happiness.”
As Lance spun me in the opposite direction, I turned and said, “I suppose that’s true but you also said, ‘Never give a sword to a man who can’t dance’ so did you mean that only coordinated dancers can defend a nation?”
Master Kong threw his head back and laughed. “No, little one, you can be clumsy and defend a nation. Just don’t do it with a sword.”
I was chuckling when Lozen and Sam returned with a cart loaded with weapons—AK-47 rifles and pistols, AR-15 firearms, Berettas, and Glocks. They placed them on the table like deadly appetizers in a metallic buffet. Lozen looked up at Lance and shouted, “It took us awhile to make sure they were loaded with silver bullets. We need to place guards, the weapons pose a danger to the children here—we don’t want them playing with live ammunition.”
“I’ll be down shortly,” Lance replied.
At that moment, commotion emanated from the corridor. Hector’s voice, in the distance, loud crashes, and what sounded like firecrackers were coming from the staircase. I deciphered what Hector was shouting when he reached the sixth floor. “Take cover! They’re coming!”
The vampire guard dogs were the first to react, running up the stairway. Clearly now, there were gunshots ringing from that direction and the yelping of the dogs in pain. Hector appeared around the corner, yelling, “Everyone get down!” He was shot in the back and tumbled down the flight of stairs, turning into dust when he reached the bottom. The assassins were using silver bullets.
“Hector! No, God, no!” Joan screamed.
It all happened so fast but at the same time in slow motion, the yin and yang of terror. Lozen was closest to the weapons and began grabbing them to toss to the knights. Lance and I landed; he grabbed an AK-47 and began firing. The assassins were spreading out on the balcony so they could massacre everyone in the room, like shooting deer in a massive culling.
We were trapped, unable to get to the vestibule and escape down the stairs. I could shoot or turn into a werewolf. I decided to shoot and grabbed a Glock and began firing at the slayers on the balcony. They were dressed in all black, wearing body armor tactical gear so I fired at their faces to avoid the bullet proof vests.
They wore hands-free, walkie-talkie helmet headsets and I heard one of them yelling for backup. “Forget the village. We need everyone on the seventh floor! Come to the seventh floor now! They’re armed! Over!” I was able to get a direct hit and turn him into dust.
Everyone was descended from the ceiling now; all the weapons on the table served up to the defenders. Master Kong still cradled Robin and was kicking over tables and telling civilians to take cover. He handed Robin to the organist and turned into his magnificent werewolf form.
“We need to get them out of here!” I shouted at him.
He crouched into a leaping form and prepared to head for the vestibule. “We need to clear the stairway! Cover me.”
“No! Wait, we need to push them back first. Don’t go on a suicide mission!”
He bounded on the banquet table and made a flying leap towards an assassin perched on the balcony who had plowed down some villagers. I provided as much cover as possible without friendly fire hitting him as he landed on the assassin. I watched the dust rise from beneath Master Kong as he dispatched the killer. Unfortunately, he was now trapped on the balcony in a line of fire.
I stood up and fired heavy spray towards the staircase as did the knights. Kong was able to jump back down, where he took up a guard position in front of the civilians to prevent more casualties. The villagers’ bodies were scattered through the room, blood was oozing on the floor, making it slippery.
Alexander began wailing and rising to the ceiling; a frightened baby vampire unconsciously escalating. In the heat of battle we had all forgotten him. The terror in his eyes was pitiful to behold. He had no cover as he hovered in the air. Catherine was the first to reach him. She placed her body in front of the baby and the bullets. She crumbled to the floor as a volley of silver bullets hit her. Go-Go had also reached Alexander and was tugging on his pants, desperately trying to pull him down from the ceiling.
Everyone in the banquet room furiously shot towards the staircase, trying to drive the assa
ssins back. I made my way to Alexander, sideways, still firing. I refused to allow the thought of Alexander being killed to enter my mind. The slow motion kicked in and the bullets
whizzed past me, a thought super charged through my mind, Go-Go is small and not a good target, he’ll be okay too.
The Professor rushed towards Alexander and Go-Go from the opposite direction. He jumped on the banquet table and ran towards the baby and dog, changing into werewolf form in fast motion. Harold turned into a sleek werewolf with dark brown, tawny tinged fur, a black stripe running down his slender nose. He jumped, paws forward, ready to knock them down to safety, still wearing the loose white linen ensemble borrowed from Kong, resembling a large dog dressed up for Halloween. He was mid-air when shots hit Go-Go, causing him to yelp. The little dog was gone in an instant, a hero transformed into dust.
Harold snatched Alexander and jumped to the floor, landing near Catherine. “Take him Nola!” he yelled with fury, ready to run and seek revenge. “They killed my dog!” Catherine raised her arm. “Harold, you need to rescue the people from our village. I don’t have much time left, help me up. Please.”
I took one side of her bloody body and Harold took her hand while still clutching the baby with one arm. “Catherine, you’re badly injured, you shouldn’t move,” I said.
“Nonsense, child, my remaining time must count for something. Give me the AR-15 and I’ll clear the stairway. You can guide our people through the tunnels when it’s safe,” she said.
“There’s not much ammo left,” Harold said, giving her the weapon he had slung over his shoulder.
“I won’t start shooting until I reach the top of the stairs. Goodbye my friends,” she said, causing my eyes to sting. She knew she was dying—she had never before referred to me as a friend and never would again.
The knights seemed to be aware of her last mission as everyone stood from behind their barricades and began shooting at the assassins at the top of the steps. The volley of fire was enough to make the killers take cover. Catherine struggled to the top, leaving a trail of blood, and Makeda followed closely behind her. Catherine walked into the line of fire, aiming her weapon at the assassins who ran around the corner and up to the sixth floor.
Lance dashed to me while Galahad, Lozen, Sam, Vivian, Joan, and Mary bounded up the stairs. “Master Kong, Nola, Harold, we need you to get these people to safety!” Lance shouted.
“We’ll get them through the caverns,” Master Kong said. “Meet you up top.”
“Let’s go!” I yelled into the room. “Down to the tunnels!”
“I’ll lead the way,” Master Kong said. “Harold, you keep directing them and stay in the middle. Nola, take up the rear.” His voice boomed across the hall, “Let’s go! To the caverns!”
They filed out, some carrying children, some carrying the wounded. Those with weapons stayed to fight. Harold stood on the sidelines, clutching Alexander, and calling, “Keep it moving…quickly and quietly, that’s it, keep moving, we’re okay, no need to panic.” The church lady organist carrying Robin went to stand next to Harold and Alexander. Together they positioned themselves in the middle of the flowing crowd and left the room.
I reloaded my Glock and hit the elevator button. Once it arrived at the floor I hit the stop button so the assassins couldn’t use it to get to the banquet room and position themselves behind those staying to fight. My group took the stairs, going down five flights to the pool area and the door that led to the cave tunnels. I spotted Braveheart huddled in a corner on the ninth floor landing, looking confused and frightened.
“It’s okay,” I told him, “you’re not staying here.” He didn’t struggle or try to leave my arms as I feared when picking him up. He stayed quiet, pressed against my chest as we made our way through the cave. The sounds of children wailing bounced off the dark and damp walls. What had once been an adventure for me, exploring the cavern and looking for guano, now became the task of making sure we got everyone to safety.
The cave floor was uneven, moist, and dotted with stalagmites--walking in heels became impossible. I unstrapped and kicked off my shoes, placing them on a ledge to hopefully retrieve later. I continued to look back to make sure we weren’t followed. Some of the children, and a few of the adults, were terrified of the bats that clung to the ceiling of a high chamber we had to walk by. Braveheart looked up and hissed but made no attempt to leave my arms, even when I shifted him to a position over one shoulder so my gun hand could be free to fire if needed.
I saw the cavern with new eyes and smelled it with a fresh nose. People complained about the pungent smell of the bat poop, reminiscent of a never cleaned hamster cage and ammonia. I needed to change the perspective, so I said in a tour guide voice, “Look over to your right where you’ll see the wonderful bats of Camelot. Since we don’t spray poisons to kill mosquitoes the bats do the job for us. Each bat eats hundreds of insects every hour when they fly out of the cave and patrol our grounds. They are the only flying mammals and we use their nitrogen-rich poop, called guano, on our organic farm fields.”
I was just repeating facts that were well-known in our community but they had let fear cloud their logic and memories. They needed a dose of appreciation for the work the bats did to rid our farm of harmful insects and to take their minds off our dire situation.
“That’s right! I like bats,” one of the children said, no longer complaining or afraid of the chattering and screeching of the bats in the chamber. I didn’t want to tell them the majority of the bat population had left the cavern at nightfall and those that remained were the nursing babies and mothers. Thousands of bats would soon be returning home to roost.
Fortunately, we exited the tunnels before that happened, by the opening that led to the town square. Heavy smoke and sounds of panic filled the night air. Several businesses and homes were on fire. People were running about, opening hydrants and battling the flames. “Let’s go help!” someone in our group yelled.
As the crowd thinned, Master Kong and Harold approached me. “We need to storm the front,” I said, “and work our way down to the others.”
“No, we don’t,” Master Kong said. “They have worked their way to us.”
“They’re all dead,” Lance said, striding towards us. “We killed them all with no further casualties on our side.”
The fires were rapidly extinguished as everyone at Camelot worked together to return the kingdom to normal. The danger was over, for now. People hugged each other in grief. We all realized that life is precious and can be lost at any time, vampires included.
I brought Braveheart back to the safety of my room. Bodies of the fallen villagers were being taken out in the elevator so I took the stairs. Catherine’s jewels, and a pile of dust, were on the fourth floor landing. Makeda knelt on the floor, scooping the dust up with her bare hands and placing the remains in a bag, I supposed for burial. The universe was fucking with us, big time, like we were cosmic cockroaches.
“I’m so sorry for your loss. Lady Catherine was so brave, giving her life to save Alexander,” I said.
“Thank you,” Makeda said, with tears in her eyes. She then informed me that Lance called for a gathering outside, at the front of the castle, before sunrise.
We joined him in front of the castle doors, the remaining knights by his side. Joan was in distress, muttering, “Hector, my poor Hector.” Lozen put an arm around her shoulder. Many were weeping.
“The threat is over,” Lance announced to the crowd. “Those who attacked us are now dead. But Claudius sent them and he still lives to plot against us. If you have somewhere else you can go, we urge you to evacuate, especially those with children. Sir Galahad, Lady Joan, Lady Mary, and Lady Vivian will stay here and strengthen our security. There’s still a possibility of attack as long as Claudius lives.”
The villagers began to chant, “Death to Claudius!”
Lance raised his hand for silence and said, “We’ve lost many good friends tonight. Dr. Cameron and Dr. Murray
were murdered as they worked in their lab. Lady Catherine and Sir Hector lost their lives defending Camelot…” He went on to name the twelve citizens who were killed, something I would never have been able to do, other than to say ‘what’s his name from the pet store.’ Lance uttered each name with sorrow in his voice. “We also lost a brave canine friend, Harold’s dog Go-Go. He was small but his courage was gigantic. We will have a memorial tomorrow night at the church to honor our lost friends and then I will lead Nola, Lady Lozen, Sir Kong, and Lady Makeda in a search for Claudius so we can end this war.”
Everyone silently strolled away. “I’m sorry for your loss Harold,” I said, walking beside him, heading back to our rooms. “I know Go-Go meant a lot to you.”
“Yes, he was my friend and my last connection to Hypatia.” As he looked at the ground a tear rolled down his currently human face. “I’m going with you to search for Claudius. I simply want revenge. I also need to be with Master Kong for more training. So I’ve asked Laura to take care of the children while we’re away.”
“Laura? Who’s Laura?”
“She’s the lovely lady who plays the organ at church. She was taking care of Robin during the ambush. She kindly agreed; the children will be safe under her care.”
“Okay, that’s fine with me,” I said, getting into the elevator and pushing the buttons for the fourth and fifth floors. We stopped at my floor first.
“You know, I think Go-Go really liked me; he was just playing a game when he growled at me,” I said as the elevator door opened.
“No, Nola, you are wrong. He really didn’t like you. In fact, I’ve never seen him hate anyone as much as he detested you.”
“So I see you’re acquiring the habit of Master Kong of always telling the truth. Great, just great” I said, stepping into the hallway as the door closed. “I’ll miss him anyway—and Catherine, and Hector, and all the village people too.”
Blood Crusade Page 24