The Vampire Hunters: Book I of The Vampire Hunters Trilogy

by Scott M. Baker

  “And if we don’t walk into your trap?”

  A nauseating laugh spurt through the remnants of Bill’s throat. “You’ll be there. You’re not smart enough to stay away.”

  Bill started to leave, then stopped at the office door. “And if anyone but the three of you show up, all they’ll find is Jessica’s corpse drained of blood. See you at midnight.”

  Bill turned and left the building, the three hunters watching him depart. When the monstrosity had left, the others turned to Drake.

  “What do we do now?” asked Alison.

  “We don’t do a thing,” said Drake. “This is a suicide mission. I’m going alone.”

  Alison shook her head. “We’re a team. And don’t argue. We don’t have the time.”

  Drake knew better than to argue. Deep down, he was happy to have Alison by his side. It meant his chances would go from none to a million to one.

  “Jim, prepare four magazines of holy water rounds and a supply of stakes. I’m going home for an hour to take care of a few things.”

  Alison knew Drake wanted to say goodbye to a friend.

  “Alison, pick me up at my apartment at 10:30. We’ll meet back here at 11:00, load up, and then take care of this nest once and for all.”

  Alison and Jim both nodded. Drake appreciated the confidence, but knew that neither of them bought the bravado.

  * * *

  THE LARGE BROWN EYES looked up at Drake, as if pleading with him not to go. Drake massaged Van Helsing’s ears between his fingers, trying to reassure him. They both knew better.

  Van Helsing had greeted Drake’s return home with his usual happy dance, jumping from one side of the cage to the other. The minute Drake walked into the room, however, Van Helsing sensed something was wrong and thumped his hind legs. When Drake opened the cage door to put three-days worth of hay in his box, Van Helsing wrapped his front paws around Drake’s arm as if trying to prevent him from leaving. It could have been Van Helsing’s natural prescience for danger, like those animals that evacuate an area prior to a natural disaster. More than likely, Van Helsing merely reflected Drake’s own apprehensions, for Drake felt certain this would be the last time he petted his companion.

  Drake told himself not to be so pessimistic, but reality intervened. He had no idea whether they would be facing a nest of eight or eighty vampires. Not that it mattered. They would be facing at least two masters, which in and of itself boded ill. Even with Jim’s specialized weapons, he and Alison were unable to take down the master in the Metro, only hurt her badly. It had taken twenty minutes to kill the Night Stalker. Tonight, in addition to going up against at least two masters, they would be facing God knows how many snuffies. The odds definitely were not on their favor.

  They would not even have the home court advantage. The more Drake thought about the location the master had chosen for the confrontation, the more he respected his opponent’s cunning. Drake had attended a few concerts out at Wolf Trap. The performing arts center, located in the Northern Virginia countryside just outside of Washington, was isolated so that the concerts did not disturb nearby neighborhoods. Which meant that local residents would not hear the death struggle and call the police. The facility itself consisted of acres of woods and meadows, small theatres and pavilions, restaurants and offices, and the Filene Center, the massive outdoor theatre that rivaled any of the major theatres in the District. With a giant, multi-story pavilion containing classrooms, dressing rooms, staging areas, and scores of other spaces, it was the ideal location for an ambush. He and Alison would be walking into a well-laid trap.

  “Like a pair of rabbits entering a wolf’s lair,” Drake said aloud.

  Van Helsing lifted his head. Drake stopped petting him. It was time to go. Leaning into the cage, Drake gave Van Helsing a kiss on the forehead, then closed the door and secured the latch. On the way out, he stopped for one final look at his companion. Van Helsing stood on his hind legs, his front paws on the cage door, leaning to the side to watch Drake.

  “Goodbye, buddy.”

  Drake left his apartment and made his way downstairs. Alison waited out front in the Ram. Drake climbed into the passenger’s side. Alison sensed he was upset.

  “Everything okay, boss?”

  “Yeah.”

  “How’s Van Helsing?”

  “Fine.”

  Alison shifted into drive and pulled away from the curb. Drake looked into the rearview mirror and watched as his apartment building receded into the distance.

  “Alison, do me favor.”

  “What?”

  “I left an envelope on my dining room table with instructions on how to take care of Van Helsing. If anything happens to me, make sure he’s taken care of.”

  “Nothing’s going to happen to you as long as I’m around.”

  Neither of them spoke until they reached the office. Jim had laid out their gear on the workbench. As they pulled into the garage, Jim forced a smile and walked over to greet them.

  “We’re all set to go, boss.”

  “Good. What do you have for me?”

  Jim fell in beside the hunters. “You have two pairs of Glocks, each with two magazines of holy water bullets. A dozen stakes. I made some adjustments to the crossbow, so it should work now. I also checked the radios, and they’re working fine. Unfortunately, we only have one set of infrared goggles. And I have a special surprise.”

  Jim stepped over to the corner of the table where two burlap bags sat. Opening the flap to one bag, he removed a wine bottle that had been stripped of its label. A large cap covered the opening, secured with black electrical tape wrapped around the neck. He handed the bottle to Drake.

  “What’s this?”

  “I call it Heaven’s Fire,” said Jim. “It’s the only thing I could whip together in an hour. It’s a mixture of two parts gasoline and one part laundry detergent.”

  “Home-made napalm,” said Alison.

  Jim nodded. “The tops are blasting caps with a three-second delay. Just press down hard on the top and throw. It’ll slow down anything long enough for you to kill it.”

  Drake held up the bottle to the light. “What are those chunks floating around inside?”

  “Crystallized holy water. I planned to use them on another project, but adapted them for this. As they melt, it’ll add to the vampires’ torment.”

  “You outdid yourself.”

  “Thanks.”

  Drake handed the bottle back to Jim. “Load everything into the back of the Ram. Except the crossbow. No offense, but I still don’t trust it.”

  “The crossbow is for me.” Jim put the bottle back into the bag and closed the flap. “I’m going with you.”

  “You don’t have to do this, kid. This is a suicide mission. We’re going to be fighting an entire nest.”

  “I know,” Jim said solemnly. “But I need to fight my own personal demons.”

  Both hunters looked at Jim, waiting for an explanation. Jim sighed. “You asked me earlier what I did to wind up working for you. No surprise, I wasn’t popular in high school, except with the jocks and bullies who enjoyed making my life hell. I still have the scars from those days. Literally.” Jim fought back the urge to touch his chest. “I put up with it, telling myself things would be different in college. They weren’t. The swim team took a disliking to me, probably because I asked out the captain’s girlfriend. One night, five of them ran across me in the gym and beat the shit out of me. Campus security caught them doing it. But the dean refused to discipline them because that would mean ruining his prospects for a winning season.”

  “So you’re here because you got your ass kicked?”

  “I wanted to get those assholes back, but wasn’t going to go up against them one-on-one. So I made some flash bombs and put them in their lockers during practice. I never intended to hurt anyone. They were supposed to produce nothing more than a flash and a big bang. I just wanted to scare them. But I miscalculated the affects of setting off a flash bomb inside metal
lockers.” Jim paused, not wanting to relive the experience.

  “What happened?” prodded Alison.

  “Three sets of first-degree burns. One case of second-degree burns. The captain suffered third-degree burns on his face that disfigured him and lost an eye. As you can guess, the dean was far less lenient to me. Not that I didn’t deserve to be expelled. But he called each of the injured kids’ parents and personally offered them his assistance in prosecuting me. I faced five assault charges as well as civil suits.

  “That’s when Smith invited me to lunch and made me an offer. If I put my talents to work helping you guys, he’d square things with the college, make sure all charges were dropped, and settle any lawsuits out of court. I’d even get an apartment and a stipend. How could I refuse?

  “All my life I’ve run away and never stood up for myself. When I did fight back, I always did so in such a way that I could never get hurt. The last time it almost cost me dearly. I’ve been given a second chance, and I don’t intend to screw it up. No more running.

  “Besides, I figure if I can face off against the undead, standing up to some brain dead jocks will be a cinch.”

  Drake admired Jim’s determination. It took a lot for him to face his fears and overcome them, and to open a new chapter is his life. Sadly, this would probably be the last chapter Jim opened.

  “Have it your way, kid. It’s your funeral.” Drake patted Jim on the shoulder, then turned to Alison. “Saddle up. It’s time to head out.”

  11.

  NO ONE SPOKE ON THE DRIVE out of Washington. There was nothing to say. Each of the hunters contemplated what they would face in the next hour and wrestled with their own fears. Fortunately, at this hour the drive out to Wolf Trap passed quickly, limiting the time available to dwell on their fates.

  Alison drove the SUV along Route 66 West until she picked up Route 267 North, following the latter to the Wolf Trap exit. The exit was a right-only turn, forcing the Ram onto an unlit two-lane road. They drove through the darkness until they came upon Wolf Trap’s east and west parking lots, each devoid of vehicles. Alison turned right just before the parking lots and followed the driveway to the main gate. Pulling off the road and stopping near a grove of trees, she shifted into park and shut down the engine. Each of them sat in silence, staring at the gates that led into the facility.

  Alison spoke first. “Are we ready?”

  “As much as we’ll ever be,” said Drake.

  Each of them climbed out of the SUV and loaded up. Drake carried his usual pair of stakes in a pouch under his jacket as well as the dual Glocks in shoulder holsters. Jim shoved a stake into the rear pocket of his trousers. He pulled the crossbow out of the cargo bay, switched on the laser scope, pulled back on the string to its full cock position, and attached it to his belt by a hook in the stock. He slid the bolts into a pouch that he strapped to his left leg. Both men slung a bag containing two bottles of Heaven’s Fire over their shoulders. Alison took the infrared goggles, which she switched on and strapped to her head, the eyesight resting on her forehead. The only weapons she loaded up with were a pair of stakes. Reaching into the cab of the Ram, she opened the glove compartment and pulled out a bottle of holy water. Unscrewing the top, Jessica poured some into her right hand, then splashed it across her neck.

  “What are you doing?” asked Drake.

  “Precaution against being bitten.”

  “Do you really think that’ll stop them?”

  “Probably not.” A forced grin. “But it’ll leave a bad taste in their mouth.”

  “Can we get this over with?” Jim asked irritably.

  Drake forced into his voice a bravado he did not feel. “Let’s rock.”

  The three walked over to the front gate where the box office was located, all the while scanning the area for undead. Since the only light came from a handful of streetlamps on the road by the parking area, providing barely enough light to see by, Alison led the way with the infrared goggles. They only covered two hundred yards, but the time it took to do so seemed like an eternity. Once the hunters reached the entrance, they spread out, each with his or her back against the gate. Alison used the goggles to look around.

  “See anything?” asked Drake.

  “Nothing.”

  “Not surprising.” Drake gestured over his shoulder to inside the facility. “They’re probably waiting inside.”

  Drake walked the length of the entryway, pushing against each of the gates. The second gate from the right swung open when he touched it.

  “Maybe the last one out forgot to lock up?” Jim asked hopefully.

  “Doubt it.” Drake bent down and picked up a hunk of metal that had been the padlock. The shackle had been snapped off as if it was paper, and the case had been crushed by an extremely powerful hand.

  Pushing the gate open, Drake led the way inside. Alison followed, still wearing the infrared goggles. Jim brought up the rear and closed the gate behind him. Taking a few steps away from the entrance, they paused to survey the area.

  Two buildings housing concession stands and restrooms extended at an angle from the main gate. Ahead of them, a wide cement sidewalk stretched in a crescent around the theater. Opposite the sidewalk began the lawn seating, which sloped down for a hundred feet before leveling off in front of the main pavilion. The pavilion stood three stories in height, with ground-level orchestra seating, second-level box seating, and third-level loge seating. Behind the stage, the classrooms and staging area towered two hundred feet into the night like some modern wooden cathedral. Except for the moonlight, the entire area lay shrouded in darkness. Wolf Trap provided acres of hiding places, giving the vampires the advantage. Drake found irony in the facility’s name.

  He kept his eyes fixed on the pavilion while asking Alison, “See anything?”

  She slowly scanned the exterior of the pavilion with the infrared goggles. “Nothing. But from here I can’t see much more than the outer wall.”

  “Maybe they’re not here after all,” offered Jim. “Maybe this is a wild goose chase.”

  “They’re here.”

  “How can you tell?”

  “Listen.”

  Jim did, but heard only a deathly silence. “I don’t hear a thing.”

  “Exactly. No crickets. No bats. Nothing. Animals always run away from the undead.”

  “I always said animals were smarter than humans.” Jim sighed. “What now?”

  “You two head down into the orchestra section.”

  “What about you?” asked Alison.

  Drake pointed to the left of the sidewalk. An elevated walkway extended from the sidewalk over the lawn section, connecting with the second-level box seating. “I’m going to get a bird’s eye view of the situation.”

  “Shouldn’t we stick together?” asked Jim. “You know, strength in numbers.”

  “No.”

  “I agree with Jim,” said Alison. “You can’t see a thing without the goggles.”

  “I’ll make do. Besides, if the three of us get ambushed while together, they could take us all down in one shot. This way we better the odds of survival.”

  “Or delay the slaughter.” Alison did not mean it as a joke.

  Drake started toward the walkway when Alison reached out and grabbed his hand. “Be careful.”

  Drake detected a tone other than concern in Alison’s warning. One of endearment. He gently squeezed back. “I will. Just take care of yourself and the kid.”

  Releasing his grip, Drake turned and headed for the walkway. Alison and Jim proceeded down the embankment and into the rear orchestra section.

  DRAKE CIRCLED AROUND a golf cart and wood chipper parked near the entrance to the walkway. A couple of rakes, a shovel, and a three-foot-long pair of pruning shears lay strewn on the ground. He stopped to see if there was blood or any signs of a struggle. Thankfully, he found none. The tools must have been left by the groundskeepers when they knocked off for the day. He wondered what the crew would find when they showed
up in the morning.

  Drake turned to the pavilion. He hesitated. Standing out here was relatively safe because anything that attacked him would have to cover a lot of open space, giving him time to respond. Once inside the pavilion, he lost that advantage. His only advantage. Reaching under his jacket, he removed a stake. How pathetic. Stakes, pistols, and two bottles of Heaven’s Fire to battle an entire nest of vampires. He had never felt so ill-prepared for battle.

  Taking a deep breath, Drake proceeded along the walkway into the pavilion.

  ALISON AND JIM paused at the entrance to the orchestra section. Alison slowly scanned the seating with the infrared goggles.

  “See anything?” Jim asked.

  “Nothing.”

  The two walked down the center aisle. They stopped where the cross aisle separated the front and rear sections. The upper boxes no longer hung over the seating, giving Alison a clear view of the entire pavilion. She raised her head to scan the upper levels.

  Alison could think of only one thing to say. “Fuck.”

  DRAKE WAS HALFWAY ALONG the portion of the walkway that overlooked the orchestra section when a deep, ominous voice shattered the silence.

  “Good evening, hunter.”

  Before Drake could react, the lights inside the pavilion switched on. It took a few seconds for his eyes to adjust to the temporary blindness. When Drake looked around, his spirits sank.

  Two snuffies stood on the second-level walkway on the opposite side of the pavilion. On the stage below, the red-headed master and two more snuffies exited from the backstage wings and stared up at him. To Drake’s left, a snuffy emerged from its hiding place behind a support beam, where it was joined by another snuffy that crossed the catwalk directly above the stage that connected the two walkways. Off to his right, a pair of snuffies emerged from the loge seating and stood in the center of the walkway, blocking his escape.

  Yet none of this concerned Drake as much as the sight directly in front of him. A large metal platform comprised of supports and rigging for the stage lighting hung fifty feet above the orchestra section, suspended by four chains attached to each corner and one chain supporting the center. The master they had encountered last night at the morgue stood near the rim of the platform closest to Drake, one hand clutching a chain. It glared at Drake with blood-red eyes that burned with fury. Behind the master, Jessica desperately clutched the central support chain to prevent herself from falling. Her hands were tied in front of her at the wrists. She looked relatively sound, as long as one did not take into account the terrified expression on her face.