Blood Crusade

by Billita Jacobsen

  Lozen was waiting outside and jumped on Mark with fury. He flung her off and she hit a parked car before rolling to the ground stunned. Before I had a chance to act, an Escalade roared up to us, screeching to a halt. Mark waved the gun at Percy, forcing him into the car while Claudius opened the rear door and pushed Heather in. I was absolutely frozen, not able to decide if I should turn werewolf.

  While trying to choose my best course of action, Lance darted out the casino entrance and headed towards the car. Lozen slowly got up from the asphalt, steadied herself, and ran full force towards Mark. He raised his gun and fired in her direction, hitting her in the shoulder with two shots. She fell to the ground, moaning, but alive. He could have aimed bullets directly into her heart.

  “Anthony, let’s go, get in the car now! Leave them!” Claudius shouted.

  Lozen would die, not from her wound but from the silver seeping into her body from the bullets. If they were quickly removed, she might survive. Kneeling on the ground by her, I turned werewolf, human nails wouldn’t be able to get the bullets out but my sharp, pointed claws could do it. Placing my right claw over her profusely bleeding wound, I said, “This will really fucking hurt-- do you want me to do this?”

  Lozen moaned, “I’m dying, if you can get them out, please continue.”

  Taking one last look at the car driving away with my daughter, I watched Lance pursue them in vain. He would never catch up, of course, the universe would never allow it. Harold and Otis exited the casino with the hunters. I was glad to see that Magnus and Elaine, although quite beaten, had survived.

  Lady Makeda and Master Kong arrived and formed a barrier around me and Lozen. Kong nodded in affirmation, “You can do it Nola--you can save her.”

  Plunging my claw into her shoulder, I felt for the bullets with my sharp nails. Feeling the heat from one of them, I guided it to the surface while Lozen screamed in pain. “One down,” I said to her, “hang on, Lozen.”

  Overhearing our discussion and seeing my form as she approached our group, Elaine said, “So, we’re not only working with vampires, we’re allies with werewolves too.”

  Magnus put a protective arm around her, “Such is the world we live in,” he said. “We now owe our lives to the vampires.”

  I guided the other bullet out of her body and turned back into my human form, my hands quite bloodied.

  “I lost them,” Lance said, returning and kneeling beside Lozen. He offered his wrist to her. “You must drink,” he said, “to regain your strength.”

  The hunters looked disgusted as she sunk her fangs into his skin and took his life-saving nourishment. Magnus looked at Harold and asked, “So what is your affiliation?”

  Harold looked proud and announced, “I’m also a werewolf.”

  Otis turned to the woman hunter he had a crush on and announced, “I’m a human. Just so you know.” She smiled at him; he was ecstatic.

  I stood in front of Magnus and asked, “How did you and Elaine get out of that predicament? I was afraid that you were goners.”

  He had a deep cut on his cheek that would likely produce another scar. “Elaine killed one of the vampires but they were overtaking us and we would have been lost if not for Lance. He easily killed two of them and Harold and Otis, the werewolf and the human, dispatched the last one.”

  Elaine turned to me and said, “That’s why the decision has been made that the Order of the Pyramids will support efforts to defeat Claudius. We’ll try to find out from informants where the Emperor is hiding and we’ll gather our forces. We have one thousand hunters who can join the battle but it will take a while for them to gather here—we are spread out around the world.”

  Now it was my turn to be ecstatic. I beamed at Magnus and said, “Thank you! I greatly appreciate this, I really do.”

  He wasn’t smiling when he said, “You’re thanking the wrong person. Elaine is the leader of the order.”

  It wouldn’t be the first time that someone, even another woman, failed to recognize the female in charge. Still, I felt like a big jerk, so I said, “You did lead me to believe that you were the leader.”

  Elaine smiled at me, “We’re allies now, Nola, it’s okay. Magnus and I did mislead you; he wants it that way to protect me.”

  Sirens were blaring in the distance and the din was heading in our direction. “Time to go,” Lance said.

  “Harold knows how to contact us,” Magnus said, as the hunters scattered.

  Lozen was leaning on Lance as they headed towards their car. “Back to the house, we’ll figure out a plan of action,” Lance said.

  “There’s something I need to do,” I said. “Can Harold and Otis drive back with you? Otis, please give me the car keys.”

  “You’re going off by yourself?” Lance questioned.

  “I’ll be safe. I’ll be at the house shortly,” I replied. The sirens were getting louder; Lance had no time to argue with me.

  I didn’t want to be in the car with Otis driving since I had no idea where to go, just a vague sense of how to find Heather. The backseat driving would have been intense. Better that I drive alone. Heading in the direction where I last saw the car driving off with her, I clutched my amulet, believing that it would give me a clue where to find Mark. If the amulet guided me to Mark’s location I could find my daughter.

  Heading towards the actual Red Rock Canyon, I pulled over into a strip mall parking lot to remove the amulet from its gold chain in order to hold it in my hand while driving. I drove the desert highway, passing a location where dozens of burros used to roam the road, thanks to people who would bring them snacks.

  The burros have paid a heavy price for those pieces of old bread and junk food brought by humans who wanted to interact with them. People had unknowingly issued a death sentence to the endearing, long-eared descendants of the pack animals brought to Nevada by silver and gold miners. The burros connected cars with food and would run towards traffic, resulting in numerous accidents and the Bureau of Land Management justification for roundups taking them from their home. However, that evil agency also captures the magnificent wild horses that grace the desert even though they avoid humans; there is no validation for any of it, only lies.

  I pulled over to meditate by a scenic vista, turned off the car, and walked to a big boulder to sit. It felt necessary to lessen the anxiety that was most likely blocking my connection with the amulet and Mark. Sitting cross-legged on the sandstone boulder, I gazed at the Joshua trees, yucca, and blackbrush that dotted the landscape. The majestic mountains in the background reminded me of pyramids while others looked like giant castles. It was like gazing at clouds in the sky and distinguishing the floating shapes as features the mind can identify.

  Still, it was useless to try deep breathing or mindfulness, my fear for Heather was overwhelming. Looking skyward, I said out loud, “Please, please, don’t let anything happen to her. Protect her. I’ll be good. I’ll do whatever you want.” After weeping for a while, I went to the car and continued driving State Route 159.

  Passing Bonnie Springs Ranch, a tourist attraction replica of a western ghost town, I decided to turn around. There was nothing emanating from my amulet-- no heat, no glow, and no connection with Mark. Driving for a while in the opposite direction, I slowly searched new subdivisions that had destroyed the desert. Finally admitting defeat, I headed back to Lance’s estate, hoping they had some news about Heather.

  Chapter 22: Battle at Yucca Mountain

  My first clue that something was amiss at Lance’s estate was finding the private gate wide open and no cars in the driveway. Slowly approaching the door, I found it unlocked. I readied my dagger and walked through the house, calling out for my friends and finding no one there. Feeling the coffee cups that had been left on the kitchen island, joke vampire teeth mugs with the idiom “once bitten, twice shy” on them, I found that they were cold to the touch. Whatever happened occurred hours before I arrived.

  There was a hastily written note from Lance, left by the c
offee cups. We found them, heading to Yucca Mountain, meet us there. Tried to call you. Be careful. I have a plan. Near Amargosa Valley, take US-95 North. He had scribbled a crude map for me.

  He probably tried to call me when I was driving near Red Rock Canyon; the cell phone service in that area is intermittent, at best. Returning to Otis’ car, I began driving the lonely, dreadful highway heading towards Yucca Mountain, about one hundred miles outside of Vegas. I contemplated that my friends had fallen into a trap and I would foolishly follow them. The area was military and undoubtedly patrolled by security, with road sensors and camera surveillance.

  Yucca Mountain represents the evil intentions of the bloodsuckers. The location explained Lozen’s vision of tunnels, as the mountain had plenty of those. Yucca was chosen to be the nation’s nuclear waste toxic dump where forty thousand tons of spent nuclear fuel and high-level radioactive waste would dangerously be moved by train from across the country to a state that, ironically, has no nuclear power plants and doesn’t want that radioactive shit.

  Most people are unaware that the land is sacred to the indigenous Shoshone and was stolen from them. Seven miles of passageways, twenty-five feet wide, were dug deep into the rock, ripping open the heart of the mountain with a tunnel-boring machine called the “Yucca Mucker” over the objections of the Native Americans.

  The 1863 Treaty of Ruby Valley was signed by Shoshone chiefs and offered safe passage for travelers, stage and telegraph lines, and even mining and logging on their land in order to bring peace. Of course, the federal government at that time believed the territory was worthless desert. The psychopaths in charge changed their minds when they needed a vast expanse of land to test nuclear bombs. The government stole over thirty-nine square miles of Native American territory without warning, breaking the treaty, and testing hydrogen bombs, recklessly and unrestrained. Mushroom clouds rose over the desert, decimating wild horses, desert tortoises, big horn sheep, and any other wildlife that had survived nature’s fury but could not cope with the wicked destruction produced by atomic bombs.

  That same unjust system of government decided nuclear waste should be stored on sacred Shoshone land that was prone to earthquakes. The morons in control believed that offering fifteen cents an acre would erase the problem but the proud Shoshone have repeatedly told them their homeland is not for sale. So of course, the Shoshone are now denied access to their ancestral territory.

  Their homeland, formed by eruptions from a Caldera volcano millions of years ago and creating a desert habitat, presents bleak highway views. One must walk the landscape to really understand the living panorama. Upon close observation, you can witness what the Native Americans see—the desert is alive and worthy of respect. The environmentally-destructive project has been on and off for years as the Shoshone and state of Nevada fights it.

  I drove onto the sacred land, something the Shoshone were no longer able to do. Chain link fence cordoned off the terrain. Like at Lance’s estate, I found this gate unlocked. Surely, I would be set upon at any moment. Driving up to the gaping, huge, rounded off entrance to the mountain, I was surprised to not see one soul. True, it was dark out, but I sensed nothing lurking in the shadows.

  Parking beside the other cars near the entrance, I ventured inside, my dagger ready to meet an attack. There were no weapons left behind at Lance’s estate so my small blade would have to do. I expected to be greeted by the sounds of battle but the tunnels were silent except for the hum from the ventilation fans. If there was a battle raging, it was the quietest killing ever.

  Sporadic lighting guided me through the main tunnel for about a mile until I spotted a side tunnel and wondered if that was the direction to take. The central tunnel seemed to get brighter so I decided to follow the straight path and the lights. It was like venturing down an alien spaceship, where any unknown creature could emerge at any moment. And then they did.

  The sound of voices started bouncing off the rock walls although I couldn’t make out what they were saying. I started running towards the sound. I spotted them when I briefly turned my head to look behind. They appeared out of the side tunnel and began following me, doing that creepy spider walk on the ceiling. First appearing as shadows on the top of the tunnel, as they crept closer I made out a group of twenty or so teeth-gnashing vampires heading straight for me.

  I picked up my pace towards the voices, there was no way I could kill that many bloodsuckers and they knew it. “You’re coming to a dead end, bitch!” One of them yelled, taunting me. Their raucous laughter carried down the tunnel. “Get it? Dead end!”

  Noticing a brightly lit side tunnel ahead, I ran around the corner and skid into the control room. It wasn’t a tunnel at all but a huge, cavernous chamber where Claudius sat on an ornate, gilded, ancient Roman curule throne atop a three step riser. It was a throne without a back seat, more like a stool with curved legs forming a huge X, finished in gold leaf. Marble statutes sat on pedestals near the throne and draped curtains framed the position.

  “Here she is, as promised!” He exclaimed, straightening the gem-studded, laurel wreath crown made of leaves of gold that adorned his bald head. He wore a purple royal robe over his black toga.

  Mark stood beside him, wearing a ceremonial palmate toga with a gold border. He avoided looking at me at all and kept a poker face expression. Lance stood at the other side of Claudius and wore an expression never seen on his face before—a look of shame. Lozen stood behind him and I was unable to see her facial countenance. A row of soldiers formed a line in the back and I spotted another tunnel behind them.

  To my left a huge twenty-foot long control panel, with monitors showing camera views from outside, and many buttons that I’m sure served a nefarious purpose, was manned by a group of four technicians sitting on black ergonomic office chairs on wheels. Sitting on the floor next to the panel, Percy hugged Heather. I searched Percy’s eyes for a moment and they answered my questions as he stared back, unwavering.

  Turning back to Claudius but looking at Lance, I said, “What the fuck, you treacherous mother-fucker? You had me come here to serve me up to this asshole?”

  My expletives finally got Mark to raise an eyebrow and look at me with sadness. I would have to be sure that it was someone else who killed me, he surely couldn’t live with himself if he dealt the final blow. As if on cue, the twenty vampires who had been in pursuit formed a semi-circle behind me, blocking the opening.

  Claudius was actually rubbing his hands together in glee. Lance lowered his head and said, “I’m so sorry but I had no choice. Claudius has a legion at Camelot and promised to kill everyone if we didn’t help bring you here. It was you or Camelot.”

  Actually, I understood. I would have done the same thing to save Camelot. A legion is an army of three thousand, Camelot would fall, they had no chance against those odds. Still, I believed in Lance. Betrayal simply wasn’t in a Knight of the Round Table, it didn’t exist—it’s what I saw in Percy’s eyes. I decided to trust that Lance had a plan and play along.

  “Fuck you, you’re a piece of shit,” I spit at Lance, not meaning a word said.

  Speakers suddenly blared out, “Sire, we’re in position at Camelot, everyone is secured. What are your orders?”

  Claudius stood up and looked at Lance menacingly. “The vampires are to be spared but I want all their pets killed…animal and human!”

  Lance turned with fury, “That’s not our agreement! Camelot is to be left in peace! You promised me no harm would come to them if I delivered her to you!”

  Shrugging his shoulders, Claudius said, with an evil grin on his face, “Did you really think you’d get out of this without paying a price? I spared the vampires, that’s the best you’ll get and all you deserve.”

  It was time for me to play poker with Claudius and show the only hand I held—reverse psychology. It didn’t work with the Universe but perhaps this fool could be played. I began laughing, as heartily as possible. “Good, let Camelot fall! Let them die! That’s wha
t you get, you piece of shit. I can die happy knowing that you will feel the pain of losing your loved ones!” I gave my best defiant look to Lance when I was actually sick with worry that Robin and Braveheart, and all the animals and humans at Camelot, would be massacred.

  Claudius looked slightly confused. He certainly didn’t want to do anything that made me happy. “Stand down,” he announced, “belay that last order.”

  I did my best to look disappointed and swallow my fear. Vampires behind me, Mark in front and forced to follow commands from the mad ruler, and Heather in danger, compelled me to freeze with indecision.

  I glanced at my daughter and saw that she was looking at me with horror. Percy gave me a slight nod of his head as if signaling me for something. Looking back at Lance, I noticed that he glanced at his watch and then back to me. He too gave me a slight nod. What were they trying to indicate? I wasn’t a mind reader.

  “We’ll have plenty of time to decide how to deal with Camelot. I want to focus on you and how best to torture and watch you die in agony,” Claudius said, coming closer and laughing. “I do so love revenge, it’s my favorite thing.”

  It finally hit me that Lance did indeed have a plan. He wanted me to turn werewolf. Obviously, Claudius had no idea what I was—Lance didn’t betray me. The supreme arrogance of Claudius was unlike any I’ve ever seen before. It might be the end of him as he seemed to enjoy prolonging his victory instead of immediately ordering someone to shoot me. He had also been foolish enough to send his army to Camelot while leaving a small force for protection. Arrogance is my favorite trait of assholes.

  He continued to walk slowly towards me. “Should I let you live long enough to observe the end of human civilization and then slowly kill you? Or should I give in to my desire to have you suffer right now?” He raised his arms towards the ceiling as if making an immaculate proclamation and shouted, “It’s decided! I will do both!”