The Chronicles of a Vampire Hunter (Book 1): Red Ashes

by Justin A. Moore

  “Convoy commander, vic one... uh... we need a corpsman I think... and uh... you need to see this.”

  I grabbed the radio handset and barked orders into it on reflex. A corpsman ran past as I climbed out and sank to my ankles in the mud. My security team was pretty seasoned at this point, and everyone snapped to alertness as I slogged up to the lead vehicle. Right as I came around the back side of it I saw the sergeant I had placed in my lead vehicle. I walked up and put my hand on my shoulder. “What's the matter; do we have wounded marines or something?”

  He didn't respond, and I felt him tremble slightly under my hand before lurching forward and throwing up in the mud. After a moment, he regained his composure. “I've never seen anything like this. Jesus, what the hell happened here?” He said before heaving again. I walked closer to the MRAP and that's when the haze of instinct lifted and I realized what I was looking at.

  This wasn't an MRAP anymore. MRAP's are mine-resistant vehicles that have saved hundreds and hundreds of marines from certain death from IED explosions. I've seen one take a near-hit from an RPG and keep on rolling. When I first saw the pile of scrap in front of me, I didn't think it was possible that it could have been an MRAP. The twisted wreckage was torn in half from the side, right through the turret. Crumpled chunks of metal were scattered about as if someone had been crumpling them up like sheets of paper and tossing them in frustration. The Navy corpsman was wedged up to his waist in the wreckage where a door had been torn off. As I walked up he backed out and looked at me with haunted eyes, and he put a hand on my flak and shook his head at me. His uniform was smeared with dark blood.

  “You probably don't wanna look in there, sergeant. Not much to recognize as human. I grabbed a couple dog tags but... I gotta tell you... I don't think the whole bodies are here. I just see bits and pieces.” He coughed and shook a little bit, but something told me it wasn't from the cold. This corpsman was a petty officer second class, and I'd seen him around on my last tour. Some say the Corps and the Navy have something of a rivalry, but I’ve never met the marine who didn’t love his doc like they were kin. He was pretty much as seasoned as one could get, and I've never seen a corpsman get shaken like that. I nodded to him and he walked away behind me. I walked up to the wreckage to get a closer look.

  I saw what he was talking about. There were no bodies in the twisted hulk, but there had been. My mind started silently screaming before I shook my head clear and began trying to figure out the scene. Normally you see caved-in doors and bodies wedged into the tighter spots of the vehicle in explosive attacks. This vehicle almost looked like it had exploded from the inside. Dark red splashes covered the interior and thin strips of torn flesh and fabric hung from the shredded metal sides of the vehicle.

  I walked away from the wreckage and bit back the bile rising in my throat. I turned and signaled for the wrecker to clear the way as I worked my way through the mud to my MRAP. When I sat back in my seat I took off helmet and pressed my head hard against the cold door. My mind raced through every scenario to find some possible explanation for what I had just seen. No bodies at all, not even a finger. A few lumps of jellied flesh was the most that remained of the marines that manned that MRAP. The MRAP had been torn through, but the undercarriage seemed intact, it was like someone threw a couple grenades right through the top, in past the gunner... but what happened to the bodies?

  “Hey Sergeant, you alright?” Kelly asked as I rubbed my temples, trying to erode the tension headache that had been building for the last few minutes.

  “Yeah bud, it's just... hey, have you guys ever seen an attack where there were no bodies?” I asked as I looked around at them. They all had the same suppressed look of fear masked by discipline.

  Morris scratched her nose for a second then nodded. “This is some black hawk down kind of shit. Those fucks must have taken the bodies and are gonna parade them around. Sick bastards.”

  There was a general murmur of agreement in the vehicle and to me it seemed to make sense. Nothing else would fit. I felt my face flush with anger as I input the new information into the BFT as the wrecker pulled the wreckage out of the way. As soon as the wrecker got clear I ordered the convoy to move on. As we passed the wrecker the rain abated to a light mist, but visibility still fell as the sun continued to set.

  “Where's the rest of the convoy?” Kelly asked as he drove through the muddy terrain. I pulled the information up on the BFT.

  “About half a mile, we should be able to see them shortly.”

  Kelly sniffed and pointed ahead. “Oh we can see them now, I think.”

  He was right. Ahead of us beyond the lead vehicles were the barely visible shapes of MRAP's, and the large blocky shapes of wreckers and bigger trucks. I grabbed the radio and took a steadying breath before keying it.

  “This is convoy commander to all vehicles. Alright folks, we've got visual on our objective. Take it slow, we don't know if there are any IED's around here, but let's be safe. Safeties off, stand by. Vic one, take us up alongside the objective.”

  The lead vehicle responded in the affirmative and our detail diverged slightly and crept up to the demolished convoy. My vehicle passed the closest wreck after a few minutes, what used to be an MRAP. It was slightly less destroyed than the one we'd passed before, but still more of the same. From my window I still couldn't spot any bodies. Slowly, we got our whole convoy alongside the line of wreckage. The sun was setting, and the sliver that still shown over the horizon illuminated everything for a moment in bright bronze light. I thought, in that moment, that everything around us looked strangely beautiful. I heard everyone in the vehicle let out a simultaneous breath as the sun finally set and the sky darkened with renewed vigor. Afghanistan is in some ways a very beautiful country. A land of rolling honey-colored hills and cliffs with mountains the same color, interspersed with green during the right time of the year. A few things distract from the beauty, such as the omnipresent desert dust and hostile Afghani combatants. At that same moment I saw a silhouette appear on one of the nearby rocky hillock. A dark silhouette of a man, wearing the robes customary in this area.

  “Heads up folks, we got a guy on that hill to the east. Someone get out some big-eyes and tell me if he's armed. Keep three-sixty awareness folks, he might just be a distraction.”

  Morris grabbed the binoculars and peered out at the figure. “Doesn't look armed, boss. He's just standing out there. He doesn’t look like he’s holding anything, but I can't really tell.”

  “Well then you can't tell if he's armed, can you? Keep your eyes on him. Gunner, keep a bead on him. I don't want an RPG to catch us by surprise.”

  I got on the BFT and input our contact coordinates and called for reinforcements immediately. I knew one wrecker and my security detail wouldn't be able to handle all of this by ourselves. I called for more wreckers and emergency crew, as well as another security detail. It took a few seconds for the acknowledgment to pop up on the screen. I sighed and strapped on my Kevlar helmet, then got on the radio. What had gone unnoticed before had become apparent now, this was a sort of choke point with the hills rising on either side and the road ahead of us winding through craggy terrain—perfect for an ambush.

  “Alright folks, pile out. Gunners, stay in your mounts. Let's see what we can find.”

  Immediately after I gave the order, my marines piled out of their vehicles with their weapons at the ready. The corpsman walked up to my vehicle and lit a pair of cigarettes as I climbed out. He grunted and handed me one of the lit Marlboros. Smoking was a horrible habit and I’d have to give it up at some point, but there are some things you just don’t do in a war zone, and giving up tobacco is one of them.

  “You're gonna want that. Let's have a look.”

  “Yeah.” I lead the way to the nearest wreck. The tang of blood greeted me as I pulled on the driver's side door, which promptly fell to the ground and gave my nerves a fresh jolt. I shook my head and ducked inside. A similar sight to the one before greeted me. The co
rpsman stuck his head in from the door next to me.

  “Gonna bet it's the same story here too, boss.” He said as he worked the cigarette in his teeth.

  “Looks that way, but what do they want with the bodies? It doesn't make sense.”

  The corpsman nodded and flicked some ash on the muddy ground. “Maybe our boys are still alive, boss. There isn't enough blood here to think that the four poor sons of bitches in this vic are toast. Plus, no body parts. Sure, there’s some blood, but there isn't nearly as much as to say all of 'em died. Could be they started taking fire, bailed out, and then hoofed it.”

  I walked around the vehicle and mulled over the corpsman’s optimistic theory while looking for footprints only to find that the rain had washed them away hours ago, though something glinted from the ground nearby. I knelt down and put out my cigarette then cleared away some of the muck to see a small silver crucifix glinting in the purplish evening light. I picked it up and put it in my pocket.

  “Hey doc, didn't we find some dog tags back at the other wreck?”

  He grunted assent and lit another cigarette with the smoldering butt of his previous one, picking up a set of dog tags from inside the ruined MRAP. “That's pretty strange; I wonder why they'd drop their tags.”

  I shook my head and kept digging through the muck and found another crucifix, this one with a wedding band hanging on the chain. “It's not just tags, doc. I think you'll find anything that was hanging around their necks was taken off.”

  The corpsman wiped his face and picked up another set of tags. “I don't think they took 'em off. Chains are broken, these were torn off.”

  I sighed and put the tags and jewelry in one of the pockets of my vest. “It doesn't make sense, doc.”

  Just then a shout went up from a few vehicles away. “Corpsman! Corpsman! We got a live one!”

  The doc and I ran over to the shouting marine. He was standing over a tattered body half covered in mud. The body was clearly one of our missing marines, and he was in horrible shape. Large strips of skin and chunks of the meat beneath were just… gone. The doc went over to him and opened the medical kit, fished out a pair of scissors that he used to cut open the marines shirt. He put his hand on the muddy ribcage and then grinned fiercely at me.

  “He’s damn right, boss, this poor bastard’s breathing,” he said. “Get me a chopper and I’ll keep him working long enough to get outta here.”

  I nodded and ran back to my vehicle. The gunner on my vehicle thumped on the roof as I called for a CasEvac .

  “What's up, gunner?” I asked after I put in the call. I still hadn’t learned his name, and couldn’t see it through his flak jacket. I decided to learn it when we got back, so I wouldn’t feel like—and appear to be for that fact—such a douchebag.

  “Hey Sergeant, that guy just disappeared. He was there, I was watching him, and he literally just disappeared. He didn't move or duck behind something, just gone.” He said with a hint of panic to his voice. I grabbed the radio to send out that call next, but before I could key it I heard a scream and the sharp report of gunfire.

  “Shit.” I muttered as I jumped out of the vehicle and ran towards the gunfire. I saw the muddied marine we had found earlier kicking and twitching on the ground as a soft red glow burned in his chest, looking like he'd taken tracer fire. He snarled and foamed at the mouth, growling into the lights from our vehicles. Not too far from him was the doc, two marines holding him down with one pressing a bandage against his neck.

  “What the fuck happened here?” I shouted as I ran up to the corpsman.

  “Crazy son of a bitch, he bit the doc,” one of the marines holding him down said. “Chewed right into his throat, I think he’s breathing in the blood, sergeant. What should we do?”

  My heart started to strike a beat in my ears as I worked over the situation in my mind. The marine we'd found was acting like a rabid dog. My only corpsman was down with a neck wound. The guy we'd seen earlier disappeared. A CasEvac was on the way. Reinforcements might arrive early tomorrow morning. I had to hold everyone here for at least twelve hours with the weather, and handle at least two casualties. I took a deep breath and smacked my helmet a couple times; the situation wasn't the worst I've ever faced. This would be a cakewalk, by comparison.

  Then all hell broke loose.

  The mud on either side of the convoys exploded as muck-covered men and a few women leapt onto my marines and vehicles alike. Something hit me hard in the stomach and knocked me to my knees. I coughed and brought my weapon up to my shoulder looking down just long enough to notice that what had struck me was a severed human head. Unearthly howls rose from the mouths of the tattered and muddied marines as they fell upon my security team. I saw the doc disappear under a cascade of vicious clawing hands and hungry faces.

  I fired into the pile indiscriminately. Small splashes of blood-tinged mud flew from the backs of the men I fired upon. Gun smoke stung my eyes as my first magazine ran dry and I reloaded. I tracked along their bodies with my sights, trying to picture where my marines might lay below them. I fired again and again until I heard a click, and then dropped another magazine as I brought yet another up and slapped it in. Just as I continued firing, I felt my feet leave the ground and heard a ringing in my left ear.

  More gunfire cracked out against the night as my marines fired into the dusk, fighting a scene from their nightmares. My back hit my original vehicle as the pain from the blow to my face and chest finally made its way to my brain. Out of my right eye I saw the culprit, a gigantic muddy marine, grinning viciously at me—my left eye saw nothing. I decided, as my head swam, that he’d thrown me about fifteen feet. I realized I couldn't open my mouth, the left side of my jaw clicked and pinched when I tried. I felt blood drip down my cheek from my sightless left eye as my new adversary made his way towards me. His grin never faded as my gunner fired bullets into him, a tracer every five rounds burned clean through him, but each round brought forth a dull red glow, like shining a flashlight on one side of your hand. I sank to my knees as I brought my pistol out of its holster and fired it at the head of my assailant. To my surprise, the smile faded from his face and he staggered backward as a puff of what looked like red burning paper ejected itself from the wound. He fell backwards, the holes in his flesh burning with scarlet flame.

  My gunner shouted over the din and the ringing in my ears.

  “Heads! Aim for their heads!” With that, he opened up aiming at the face of another marine attacker, with gruesome effect. The zombie-like marine's head exploded with a puff of vibrant red fire. Shreds of flesh and gristle splattered against me and stuck briefly before rapidly rising into the air while burning with a bloody light. I heard my gunner shout a loud “Hoo-rah” before I felt an impact against the vehicle and heard a crunching sound followed by a gurgling sigh. I looked up and saw the blank eyes of my gunner staring back down at me, while the black eyes of a man swaddled in black robes stared at me from behind him. Blood surrounded a gash in my gunner’s neck, but none actually flowed out from the wound. In my mind I started laughing insanely as the pieces started falling together. For some reason, as ridiculous as it may have sounded at any other time, right then it made perfect sense according to my now senselessly gibbering brain.

  This guy was a vampire. He was eating my marines.

  The marines he ate turned into more vampires, and so on. Shit.

  The black-clad vampire leapt lightly from my vehicle as Kelly charged from around the front of the vehicle and Morris from behind, firing their rifles at the vampire. The vampire drew a small knife and disappeared, reappearing behind Kelly and smiling. I felt my jaw crackle as I tried to shout a warning, but all I could do was scream through clenched teeth as I saw the point of the knife erupt from the flak jacket covering his stomach. I heard Morris scream and fire her rifle and the robed figure disappeared as Kelly sank to his knees. Bullets dented the plating on the vehicle behind him as Morris whirled around searching for her target.

  I grabbe
d the side of the vehicle and tried pulling myself up while reaching for my sidearm. I heard Morris squeeze off a few more rounds as some of the vampire marines crowded us. Her helmet had fallen off, exposing her curly shoulder-length blonde hair. I switched the safety off on my weapon and looked around with one eye for the dark-clad vampire. All I could think of as I searched was that I didn't know how I was going to kill it and all the others around us. I could hear a few of my marines firing around us, and I knew most of them had probably fallen. In a few seconds, I knew it would just be me and Morris.

  Suddenly, predictably, it was just she and I left. And then it wasn’t.

  Morris screamed and disappeared from sight. I snarled through clenched teeth and tried to scramble after her. I heard her screaming from nearby over ripping sounds as a dozen nightmare scenarios ran through my head. I felt myself pinned against the vehicle with her out of sight as her screams were cut off. A muddied vampire marine with strips of flesh missing from his arms and torso pressed me against the metal with an expressionless face. I met his gaze with my working eye and suddenly felt calm. I felt the strength leave my body and I slumped down into the mud. My gaze was locked with the vampire’s and I couldn't look away. I felt like his blue eyes were looking past me, into me. As soon as I had that thought, he smiled and backed away.

  “Mister Magnus. Your name is well-known to us.” A voice hissed from my left, where Morris was dragged away. “I must say, I had not believed it would be this easy to break your mind, if not your body.”

  The mud squelched and the dark robed vampire man came to stand in front of me. For some reason, I felt drunk. Apathetic. He seemed like someone I could trust, an old friend, but something in the back of my mind screamed and screamed and demanded that I keep fighting. It screamed until it became a tangible voice in my head, one more noise in the cacophony of the attack. I tried to open my mouth to say something, but my jaw was swollen firmly shut. I felt the warm trickle of blood running down my chin grow for a moment.