Graveyard Shift

by Michael F. Haspil

  He strained against his restraints, every muscle and fiber stretched taut. Her own shoulders ached from the position of her arms, and her body felt stiff and sore. The bondage truss they had tied her in kept her in an awkward position. She couldn’t move and they’d designed the thing to maximize discomfort. The collar chafed and choked her neck.

  Suddenly Marcus screamed. It was a tortured howl of agony, and he bucked even harder against the restraints as direct sunlight struck him for the first time.

  She wanted to say something. Anything encouraging. But she didn’t know what to say. Part of her, the insensate animal within, enjoyed seeing Marcus in pain. He was just another vampire bastard, after all. Her thinking side knew better.

  Over the sound of this, an electric motor whirred, and she looked for the source. The camera in the corner moved. Now its lens focused on Marcus. She should have known these bastards would want every moment recorded for posterity.

  She watched with impotent compassion as the sun’s rays crept down his face and his upper torso over the next few minutes. She could see his skin turn red and start to blister. The sunlight burned him horribly.

  He stopped screaming only when his voice gave out on him. Even then, he gasped in misery, his breath coming in ragged wheezes.

  The noise in the room changed again. She couldn’t place it; it sounded like a shuffling, scratching sound. It was so low, she doubted that anyone but she or a vampire could hear it. She couldn’t place the source. It seemed to be coming from the center of the room.

  Finally, Marcus slumped in his bonds. She looked on with alarm, wondering if the sun had actually killed him. She couldn’t tell.

  She closed her eyes and tried to steel herself against despair. There had to be something she could do. Tonight, when they came for her, she would be ready. She would die well and let those vampire bastards know what it was to tangle with a member of the Pack.

  Then, that scratching sound again. It nagged at her. It sounded as if countless insects were crawling over one another. Was this simply another torture the vampires had planned? Were they piping this sound in to toy with her sanity?

  If she could somehow locate the source, it would make her feel better. She would at least be able to explain what it was. Her eyes swept the room again, searching desperately for a source. Everything was the same, except perhaps that it had grown slightly brighter, but even that could have been just in her mind.

  Then she saw it. There was something out of place! She gasped, and then remembered Marcus’s warning. Alex’s arm, the one that had been shattered and twisted unnaturally, was no longer so. It lay alongside his body in a normal position.

  This wasn’t just a trick of her brain. She knew it had moved. She looked for signs of life. He wasn’t breathing and her nose did not betray her. His scent was that of a corpse.

  She stared at his body. The bruises seemed to be going away as well, though it was hard to tell, given his dark skin. She picked one bruise and studied it. She promised herself she wouldn’t move her eyes from it until she could confirm whether it was changing.

  She watched the bruise disappear.

  Over the next hour, his skin became flawless. Then, just as the first direct ray of sunlight touched his body, his eyes flickered open. They stared at her. Unseeing. Almost imperceptibly, she saw his chest begin to rise and fall in shallow breaths.

  In the face of this marvel, she had all but forgotten her own and Marcus’s predicament. Alex blinked. Once. Twice. His eyes moved about and focused on her.

  She nodded her head in the direction of the camera. It still pointed at Marcus. Alex moved his head slightly. She didn’t know if he had seen it.

  He looked back at her and winked.

  She wanted to laugh. She fought to contain her emotions.

  Alex started to move. He slid off the pile of corpses, carefully watching where his shadow fell. He removed his blood-soaked shirt. He moved like tar, no faster than the sunbeams crept across the room. The sunlight struck his dark skin, painting it gold. He lay there gasping, exhausted. She could see that somehow the sunlight was healing him, rebuilding his reserves of strength.

  Another half hour went by without him making any movement. Then he began crawling toward her. At first he was on his belly, his arms outstretched toward her. He pulled his body forward, but it was almost as if the effort were too much. He slumped back down. A few ragged breaths. He was breathing hard, but trying to be quiet. Then he shook his head, and his breathing stopped.

  He had died. Again?

  He pulled his body forward. This time he didn’t look as tired. Again. Then again. By the time he reached her, he was on all fours. He brought one finger to his lips. Keep quiet. He still wasn’t breathing.

  He reached up and undid her collar. The beast inside her recoiled from whatever he was. She knew better. He tried to undo the restraints. From deep in his throat, she could hear the sound of his straining. He stopped. Then lay back against the window. Held up one finger.

  Just a moment. Give me just a second. He mouthed the words.

  She smiled back.

  After several minutes, he shuffled back toward her. He grunted slightly as he reached the restraints on her arm. They gave way with pops and snaps. He fell back against the window and didn’t move. He closed his eyes. If she hadn’t seen him get up earlier, she would have thought he had died.

  Died, again. The thought made her want to laugh.

  His scent never changed.

  He lay there a long time. His chest was still, with no sign of the normal rise and fall. Just as she was beginning to think he would never stir, he opened his eyes.

  She tried to judge how much time had passed. The sun had shifted position. It was near noon.

  Alex stood. Now he didn’t have to worry about his shadow being cast on the far wall where the camera would pick it up. He stood in front of the window, arms outstretched like da Vinci’s Vitruvian Man, intercepting as much sunlight as he could.

  Rhuna sat in the corner and stretched her cramped limbs. Occasionally, Alex would look at her. Hours went by. She began to feel safe. She was exhausted. She pantomimed going to sleep. Alex nodded. If anything was going to happen, he would wake her up.

  44

  When she awoke, the sun was on the far side of the house. There wasn’t much light coming in through the window. This whole side of the house was now in the shade. Alex sat with his back to the window. He was signing to Marcus. Marcus still looked unconscious, his skin blackened and burned, but she could see him looking at Alex through lidded eyes.

  Alex saw she was awake and spoke very quietly.

  “What you did to Marcus in the car. Can you do it again?”

  She nodded.

  “He’s weak. We’re going to need him to blood-frenzy.”

  She shook her head. That was a bad idea. He’d feed on anything, on anyone. Alex had to know that.

  “Do it,” he commanded.

  That time, he didn’t bother keeping his voice quiet.

  The electric motor whirred again as Alex got to his feet. The camera swung around and stared directly at him.

  Alex waved at it, then walked across the room and broke the shackles holding Marcus with a feat of casual strength that made Rhuna suck in her breath. Without the shackles to hold him up, Marcus slumped to the ground.

  “The camera,” Rhuna warned.

  “I know.” Alex turned toward it and gave it the middle finger.

  “Rhuna. You’re on.”

  “He’ll feed on us.”

  “He won’t feed on a thrope, not if given a choice.”

  “What about you?”

  Alex shrugged. “You don’t have to worry about me. Just do it. Quick as you can.”

  She turned her attention to releasing the pheromones she knew vampires responded to. It made her smell like the most delicious thing on the planet. They’d let their guards down and instantly enter the first stages of the blood frenzy.

  She saw Marcus�
�s head snap up and knew it was working. His eyes were taking on the bloodshot look, and his fangs were extending.

  Outside, she could hear footsteps in the hallway.

  “They’re coming,” she said.

  “Counting on it.”

  Alex positioned himself astride the door. His fingers dug into the reinforced metal and it made a sharp creaking-grinding sound. He took a deep breath.

  Rhuna heard someone on the other side of the door start to turn the lock. They never got the chance.

  Alex grunted. The muscles in his back flexed and strained powerfully. He wrenched the door off its hinges. Half of the doorframe came with it. He tossed it aside and stared at the vampire on the other side, who was trying to shield his eyes from the sudden light with one hand. Alex yanked him into the room.

  Marcus was on him before the vampire could cry out. Sinking his fangs into the other vampire, Marcus began to feed. Alex strode into the hall. Rhuna heard shouts and the sound of gunfire. Then screams.

  Alex walked back into the room. Fresh blood and gore sloughed off his skin. Rhuna knew it was not his own. It stank of vampire. He had a gunshot wound in the center of his chest. He walked over to the window and pressed up against it.

  “That hurt. A lot.” He grimaced and wiped some of the gore from him.

  Rhuna almost didn’t want to ask. “Are you okay?”

  Even as she spoke, she could see the wound closing back up. In a moment, it was a dull scar. Then the scar was gone.

  Alex turned to Marcus. His skin was red but was looking almost normal. The blisters and blackening were gone. Dead cells fell away in flakes that looked like a bad sunburn.

  “You finished?”

  “No,” Marcus answered, then added as an afterthought, “I am finished with this one.”

  “Good. Let’s go.”

  Marcus dashed out of the room almost faster than she could see.

  “What now?” Rhuna asked.

  Alex stepped into the hallway and looked back over one shoulder at the corpses in the center of the room, then at her.

  “Payback time.”

  45

  5:20 P.M.

  Menkaure strode down the hallway. There were six doors to his left, and beyond them the hallway ended in an elaborate dark mahogany stairway leading down. A handsome railing stretched away to his right, allowing the hall to overlook a great room on the ground floor. Long, expensive-looking drapes hung along the walls, separating historical banners and tapestries from one another. In each corner of the room, large bronze braziers contained hot coals and added an ancient ambience to the room. This was wasteful and dangerous. Was Zagesi so attached to the old ways, he still lit braziers? Apparently so. Every few feet there were cases and displays. From here, he could see artwork, vases, and relics—an impressive collection of antiquities even by Menkaure’s high standards.

  He stepped over the dismembered corpses of the vampires he’d torn into moments ago. He’d literally pulled them apart, ripping them limb from limb. All pretense of stealth or thought of surprise was gone. It was still daylight. They could catch half of these fuckers sleeping.

  But he didn’t want to. And neither did Marcus.

  Marcus was already on the ground floor.

  “Lugal Zagesi! Leader of the Confraternity of Admah. The so-called Lich King. Come out now, your time is at hand,” he roared as only a vampire could.

  A door to one of the rooms in the hallway opened and a half-dressed vampire ran out. Rhuna shouted when she saw him.

  He turned toward her and Alex and charged. Alex sidestepped his clumsy attack easily and clotheslined him. The vampire crashed to the floor. Rhuna pounced.

  “Breed me?” she screamed. Alex had no idea what she meant.

  Her hands flew at the vampire’s throat, and gore answered them. Alex caught a quick glimpse. Her fingers were no longer the fingers of a young woman. They looked like claws or talons of some kind.

  She made short work of the vampire, and then stood, a feral grin on her face. She moved her hands sharply downward, splashing the floor with blood and viscera. Alex saw they were hands once more.

  She caught him staring at her.

  “What?”

  “Pace yourself. There are more.”

  She laughed. It was the kind of laugh that didn’t belong in a situation like this one, carefree and full of joy. It wasn’t right.

  Alex started down the stairs as Marcus kicked in the glass fronts of the display cases. He was trying to create as much noise and destruction as he could.

  As Alex reached the ground floor, he heard more doors in the upper hallway opening up. He looked back and saw three vampires charge Rhuna. The largest one smashed into her and pulled her off her feet. She scratched and bit at him, making noises that should have sprung from some jungle panther. He raised her over his head and threw her over the railing down to the ground floor.

  Alex saw her twist to right herself in midair like a cat and land on all fours. He had scarcely a second to admire her trick, because she was bounding past him and then back up the stairs, taking them three at a time.

  A voice screamed at him, tearing his attention away from Rhuna and the carnage she was causing at the top of the stairs. He looked for the source.

  And saw Lelith. Behind her, Constance stood, half dressed and clutching a robe tightly about her.

  “You.” Lelith spat at him.

  “Me,” Menkaure answered, and held his arms out wide. He had to admit, the day had been kind to Lelith. The bandages were gone and she almost looked her old self. Pity.

  “Lieutenant, I’m going to kill Lelith here and then you’re next.”

  Lelith leapt across the room at him, fangs out. Ready to make him feel her fury.

  He timed his strike perfectly, thrusting out with his right arm as quickly and as hard as he could. She made a gurgling shocked moan as he knocked the wind from her. Alex flexed his hand, moving it, searching by touch alone for what he wanted. His eyes never left hers. He saw the look of perplexed terror enter her eyes as understanding dawned of exactly what was happening to her.

  “Good-bye, Lelith,” he whispered. Then pulled her heart out.

  There was a loud crash to his right and he turned to see what was happening. Marcus and Lugal Zagesi wrestled one another in the final round of their ancient conflict. It was obvious there would be no quarter, no respite—only victor and vanquished. The two vampires knocked a brazier over, scattering the coals across the floor. Some of them reached the long drapes, which burst instantly into flame.

  Menkaure turned his attention back to Constance. She was gone. He needed to go after her. There was no way she was going to get away with this.

  The fire swept up into the high ceiling of the room; in a moment the heat would be blistering. They needed to get out now.

  Alex looked up toward Rhuna. She finished the last of her assailants in an orgy of carnage and violence. She had only been passing as a human, but she was far from being one. He understood that now.

  “Rhuna, this whole place is going to go up,” Alex yelled. “Get out, as soon as you can.” His thoughts turned to his own escape. How had Constance gotten out? Maybe he could catch up to her.

  A pained cry drew his attention.

  Marcus screamed as Zagesi pushed him backward. Marcus fell to one knee. It was clear that he needed Alex’s help. Marcus was losing again, badly. In a few short moments, Zagesi would have the upper hand, and Alex didn’t think Marcus had it in him to recover.

  Alex raced toward the combat, but out of the corner of his eye, something caught his attention. He turned his head to regard the objects in the case and smiled. It was perfect. It was poetic.

  Despite the fire, he had to do this.

  In the case was a full panoply of Roman armor. Numerous objects shared the display; among them a pilum, a shield, and what looked to be a razor-sharp gladius. Alex shot a glance at the wall, which was now a raging inferno.

  There was probably still tim
e.

  He smashed the case and grasped the gladius. Justice could be such a beautiful thing.

  Zagesi had Marcus in a death grip. His fingers dug into Marcus’s throat, and blood welled up from where they pressed. Zagesi’s attention was so fixed on Marcus that he never even sensed Alex coming at him. Alex grabbed him with his left hand, his grip crushing the bones in Zagesi’s shoulder. Zagesi screamed. Alex yanked him backward.

  Zagesi stared stupidly at him as if wondering exactly what was going on. Then Alex threw him. The throw smashed Zagesi so hard into the far wall that the oak paneling of the old mansion shattered. Zagesi’s impact put out a shock wave that shot glowing embers throughout the room and momentarily snuffed the flames in that part of the wall.

  Marcus got to his feet, one hand clutching his bruised neck.

  “You still know how to use one of these?” Alex tossed the gladius into Marcus’s waiting hand.

  “I’ll manage.” Marcus’s voice was barely a croak.

  Behind him, Rhuna loped up. She was a gory mess.

  Alex spoke to her. “Watch our backs, will you?” Then to Marcus: “I’ll hold him, you do the honors.”

  “With pleasure.”

  Zagesi was just beginning to recover from Alex’s throw when Alex knelt over him and pinned him to the floor with one hand on his chest. He pressed down intentionally and felt things inside Zagesi give way. Telltale snaps and grinding sounds told of the wreckage he made of Zagesi’s innards. Marcus knelt on the other side.

  Zagesi’s mouth moved. No sound came.

  “Oh, he’s trying to say something,” Alex mocked. He let up the pressure slightly.

  “How?” Zagesi asked.

  Alex pinned him again.

  “You’re a fan of the Bard, so here’s one for you: ‘There are stranger things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy, Horatio.’” He nodded to Marcus.

  Marcus drew back the sword. “Vae Victis.”

  He swung the gladius, and the Dread Sovereign Lugal Zagesi, the so-called Lich King of Admah, and the leader of the most dangerous conspiracy the world had yet known, was no more.