by Amy Cross
“Persistent little bastard, isn't he?” Rita grunted.
Izzy slammed the broken railing against the creature's face, but its grip around her neck was tightening and after a moment she saw it pushing Rita aside as if she was nothing more than a rag-doll.
“What the hell do you want with me?” she stammered, as the creature leaned closer and thick, yellowish saliva dripped from its jaw. She waited a moment, trying to summon the last of her strength, and then finally she pushed the vampire back against the other side of the stairs, only for it to hiss and scream as it launched itself back at her.
Instinctively, Izzy turned the broken railing and held it out, and to her shock the creature slammed straight into the end. The railing sliced through the right side of its chest, and finally she saw a hint of pain in its eyes. Frozen for a moment, all she could do was stare as the vampire struggled, with the railing having run straight through its heart. Pulling back, Izzy dragged herself up toward the top of the stairs and watched as the flailing creature stumbled down and then fell, finally collapsing in a heap down in the hallway.
“Did you kill it?” Rita asked, clambering up to join her.
“I don't know,” Izzy replied, her voice trembling with shock as she looked at the blood all over her hand. “I think maybe. I think I did, I think I -”
“Get up here!” O'Malley shouted.
Looking over at the Sentinel, Izzy saw that it was now holding the two other creatures by their throats. After turning to glance back at her, as if to check that she was safely out of harm's way, the Sentinel slammed first one and then the other creature against the wall, crushing their heads. It then reached a hand into the first vampire's chest and ripped out its heart, before doing the same to the second, and finally their bodies dropped to the floor. Reaching down, the Sentinel tore their spinal columns out, tossing them aside as if they were nothing more than garbage.
“Threat cleared,” the Sentinel said after a moment.
Gasping, John clutched his side as he started getting to his feet.
“You were a lot of use!” Rita snapped, looking up at O'Malley, who hadn't moved from his position at the top of the stairs. “What's the hell's wrong with you? Didn't want to chip a nail?”
“I'm not a fighter,” O'Malley replied, with a hint of shock in his eyes as he saw the three dead cold-bloods.
“Yeah, but still...”
“You killed one of them,” he added, turning to Izzy. “That was rather impressive.”
“It was self-defense,” she pointed out, looking down at her shaking hands. “I had no choice.”
“Isobel, are you okay?” John called out as he limped past the Sentinel, heading toward the bottom of the stairs.
She nodded, although she was still staring at her hands, as if she couldn't quite believe what had happened.
“I must check for damage,” the Sentinel announced, suddenly making its way up the stairs until it reached Izzy. “Please remain completely still while I ensure that you are unharmed.”
“I'm fine,” she replied.
“Please.” The Sentinel reached out and took her trembling hands in its own larger, firmer grip. “This will only take a moment.”
“I've seen you before, haven't I?” she asked.
The Sentinel paused for a moment as the scan continued. “You once dreamed of a warrior,” it said finally, “who died on the plains of Gothos, crushed by a spider.”
“How did you know that?”
“You were experiencing a race memory, something that really happened. Any clearly my proximity to your location was enough to make your mind focus on one particular moment.” The Sentinel's head tilted slightly, and this time – as its features glowed again – the mangled face of a dead man could just about be seen inside the head unit.
“That was you?” Izzy whispered, too shocked to pull away.
“You were the last thing I saw before I died,” the Sentinel told her. “I do not wish to be the last thing you see. My programing permits me to protect you, and I have invoked clauses that allow me to stay by your side. For your protection.”
“Maybe you two should get a room,” Rita winced, as she carefully slid the knife out from her elbow. The blade had sliced straight beneath the skin but had missed anything too major, and the flow of blood was already slowing.
“All your vital signs are strong,” the Sentinel told Izzy, its face glowing a little more strongly as its hand became warmer. “Your heart is racing, but in the circumstances this is understandable. You appear to have a few surface scratches, and you might feel a little sore. I sense elevated levels of serotonin, however, which might indicate -”
“I'm fine,” she replied, interrupting the Sentinel as she slipped her hand free. “Thanks for your concern, though. I just...” She could still just about see the mangled face within the Sentinel's head unit, although after a moment the light dimmed and the face was once again hidden, leaving Izzy staring at the letters carved into the smooth surface. “That face...”
“It is not supposed to be seen,” the Sentinel replied. “Excuse my error. The focus must be on determining why those three cold-blooded vampires were attempting to kidnap you.”
“What do they want with me?” Izzy asked, turning to O'Malley. “I mean, I'm no-one!”
“Maybe you're secretly a long-lost vampire princess,” Rita suggested.
“No way,” she replied.
“Or you have some great destiny,” she added, rolling her eyes. “Maybe you're secretly this really important vampire with a massive future ahead of you.”
“It's nothing like that,” O'Malley muttered darkly. “Izzy's just a normal vampire girl.”
“Then why me?” Izzy asked, her voice filled with frustration. “There has to be some reason!” Waiting for O'Malley to explain, she realized she could see a hint of concern in his eyes. “What aren't you telling me?”
“I have to get you out of here,” John said, grabbing her arm. “Nothing else matters or -”
“Stop trying to protect me!” she hissed, pulling away from him. “If I want your opinion, I'll ask for it.” She paused, before making her way up the stairs until she reached O'Malley. “I trust you. I know you'll tell me the truth, even if you think I won't like what I hear.”
“Isobel,” John said with a sigh, hurrying up to join her. “Please...”
“The Sentinel appears to be very concerned for your well-being,” O'Malley told Izzy. “That's unusual. I have a feeling it will now be like your shadow, following you everywhere you go and using its considerable strength to fend off any attacks to which you might be subjected.” He looked down at the three dead cold-bloods in the hallway. “The Sentinels were supposed to keep their distance. That's how they work. They had orders to stay at the perimeter of the town until they'd located their target, and they certainly weren't supposed to interfere in this way.”
“Isobel, listen to me,” John said, trying to get Izzy to turn to him. “We need to talk. I understand that you might -”
“I need to talk to you,” Izzy told O'Malley, while slipping free of her father's grip. “I have so many questions and -”
“Isobel -”
“Quiet!” she snapped, turning to John. “I tried talking to you, and it didn't help! You had your chance, so now... Just let me learn the truth!” She paused, seeing the shock in his eyes, before glancing back at O'Malley. “You're the only one who gives me straight answers, the only one who'll really tell me what I need to know.”
O'Malley stared at her for a moment, clearly shocked, before finally nodding.
“So you'll help me?” she asked.
“I think I can make you understand things a little better.” Reaching down, he picked up the knife that Rita had dropped a moment earlier, and he seemed lost in thought as he examined the blade.
“Thank you,” Izzy replied, with a hint of tears in her eyes, before turning to her father. “Dad, I'm sorry, but you treat me like I'm a child.” She took a deep breath. �
�I need to -”
“This might sting a little,” O'Malley added.
She began to turn to him. “What do -”
Before she could finish, O'Malley grabbed her shoulders and pulled her back. She let out a brief scream as he sunk his fangs deep into her neck, and a moment later he ripped a chunk away from her throat and then tossed her bloodied body down to the floor, while spitting out the flesh and wiping his mouth.
John lunged at him. “What are you -”
“I'm sorry,” O'Malley replied, thrusting the knife into John's heart and then pushing him back, sending him tumbling down the stairs. “I was hoping I wouldn't have to do it this way, but my hands has been forced.”
“Izzy!” Rita yelled, rushing forward.
“Oh, get out of my way,” O'Malley sneered, grabbing Rita and lifting her up before throwing her over the railing, sending her crashing down against the hallway's wooden floor below.
As the Sentinel approached, O'Malley turned and held out his hand.
“Emergency deactivation mode,” he sneered. “You know I have the authority. I was part of the unit that developed the second wave of Sentinels in the first place, so I know every loop and sub-routine in your flesh. Shut yourself down, and make it permanent! I'm invoking end-stage termination, and that means letting the flesh rot!”
The Sentinel's head glowed red. “I must protect -”
“You must shut yourself down!” he said firmly. “I'm countermanding all your other orders! Shut yourself down this instant, and disassemble!” He paused, before sighing. “Fine. We'll do this the hard way.” With that, he stepped closer and bit hard on the Sentinel's neck, tearing away more and more flesh until finally he was able to remove the entire head. As the body slumped down, he tore the head open, revealing the scarred, bloodied face of a long-dead warrior. With a faint smile, O'Malley tore the front of the face open and reached into the brain-stem, quickly tearing the cortex and forcing one final eruption of blood from the bundle of nerves.
“What are you doing?” John gasped at the bottom of the stairs, as he tried to slide the knife from his chest. “You can't kill a Sentinel!”
“I just did,” he muttered, tossing the head aside. “I'm afraid I sold my services to the highest bidder,” he added, reaching down and scooping Izzy's body into his arms. He looked down at her ravaged neck for a moment, watching as blood flowed from the wound, and then he began to carry her down the stairs. “A rather human trait, perhaps, but I had no choice. I wanted to test her first, to see if she was ready, and she passed that test with flying colors. You know me, John. Always cautious, always wanting to stake out the territory before I make my move. Now I have to take her to meet her new master.”
“Stop!” John hissed, trying to get to his feet. “Leave her alone!”
“Oh John,” O'Malley said with a sigh, kicking him back down. “I'm truly sorry our friendship had to end this way, but some things are more important than friendships, aren't they? Some things are about power.” With that, he reached down and twisted the knife in John's chest, digging it deeper into his body. “Enjoy being staked through the heart. I imagine the experience will be rather... final. You know where I'm taking Izzy. You must have known he'd come for her one day.”
As John let out a gasp and lost consciousness, O'Malley turned and stepped over Rita's motionless body, carrying Izzy toward the front door.
“It's okay,” he said calmly, looking down at Izzy's bloodied face. “One day, far from here, once you've realized your true power, you're going to thank me for taking you away from these miserable wretches. Someone is waiting to be reunited with you. Someone who paid me to deliver you. Someone who loves you so much... The way a parent loves their child.”
PART FIVE
DYNAMITE
Chapter Forty-One
As the morning sun finally rose, a patch of light reached Rita's face and her eyes began to flicker open.
For a moment, staring across the floor and seeing the front door hanging open, she struggled to remember where she was and how she'd ended up there. Feeling a pain in her arm, she rolled onto her back and felt the pain flaring again, and she let out a faint gasp as she looked up at the ceiling. She knew something was very wrong, but her mind was too fuzzy for her to work out exactly what had happened.
Eventually, despite the pain in her arm and chest, she forced herself to sit up.
Nearby, John Farmer's body was at the foot of the stairs with a knife embedded deep in his chest.
“What the...”
Rita froze for a moment as she began to remember everything that had happened. Staring at the knife's hilt, she felt a growing sense of shock, remembering the moment when she'd seen Izzy's throat being ripped open.
“Izzy?” she whispered, trying to get to her feet but feeling too much pain in her left leg. “Izzy!” she screamed, filled with panic as she crawled over to John's body. “Can you hear me?” she stammered, reaching out to check for some sign of a pulse. Her fingers pressed against his neck for a moment, but no matter how many different spots she tried, there was no sign of life. His flesh felt cold, too, and finally she pulled back as she realized he was dead.
Stumbling to her feet, and forcing herself to push through the pain in her leg, Rita began to limp up the stairs. She almost slipped in a patch of blood, and when she reached the top she had to stop and drop to her knees as the pain became much worse.
“Please no...” she gasped, spotting what was left of the Sentinel, with its head having been torn from its body and thrown aside. “Can you hear me?” she asked, crawling over to the head and seeing that all the lettering had faded from its face, leaving nothing but a dark, blank surface.
Nearby, the remains of the long-dead warrior's face lay discarded on the floor.
“Come on,” she continued, crawling back to the body and nudging its lifeless shoulders. “You're, like, impossible to kill, aren't you? Please, you have to be.”
She waited, before slumping back against the wall as she tried to hold back a fresh wave of panic.
“Izzy,” she whispered, spotting more blood nearby, at the spot where Izzy had been standing when O'Malley had torn her throat open. There was more blood on the wall, too. “O'Malley,” she added, feeling a tug of bitterness in her chest as she realized that they'd all been double-crossed. “What the hell...”
Edging back over to the stairs, she gently eased herself down step-by-step until she reached the hallway. She tried to not look at John's body, instead crawling around him and hauling herself toward the door that led into the office. By the time she got inside, she was starting to feel weak, and she slumped down against one of the chairs next to the desk. Reaching up, she grabbed the nearest book and started flicking through the pages, hoping against hope that she might find something she could use, before finally she tossed the book aside. The language seemed impenetrable and she realized there was no way she could ever read a book written by vampires.
She paused for a moment.
“Vampires,” she whispered, before looking back out at the hallway and seeing John's legs.
Gasping, but with an idea forming in the back of her mind, she crawled back out of the office, heading over to the foot of the stairs and then slumping down next to John.
“Please, dude,” she stammered, grabbing the hilt of the knife with both hands, “you have to wake up. You're a vampire, so there's no way you can be dead. Please...”
She took a deep breath, and then she began to slowly slide the knife out of his chest. She winced as she saw the bloodied blade, but finally she pulled the knife clear and tossed it aside.
“Please wake up,” she sobbed, checking John's neck again for some sign of a pulse. “Come on, what's the point of being a fucking vampire if you die so easily?”
She waited, but his body remained cold and dead.
“Damn it!” she hissed, nudging his shoulder. “Izzy needs you! Izzy's -”
Suddenly John's eyes opened wide.
�
�Can you hear me?” Rita asked, although when she checked his neck one more time she still felt no pulse. “Dude, seriously, Izzy's in danger! That asshole O'Malley took her, and everyone else is gone, and I don't know what to do!” She paused, hoping for a reply. “Should I call the cops? Or do you have special vampire cops who deal with this sort of thing? Is that how it works? Or -”
Before she could finish, she felt a sudden throbbing sensation beneath her fingers, which were still pressed against the side of John's neck. A moment later, she pulled back as John finally sat up.
“Can you hear me?” she asked again. “Dude -”
He turned to her. “Where is she?”
“Are you alive?” she asked.
“Where's Isobel?” Wincing, he got to his feet, staring in shock at the blood on the stairs. “Where's my daughter?”
“If you're -”
“Where is she?” he shouted, turning to her with shock in his eyes.
“He took her,” she replied, her voice trembling with fear. “That O'Malley dude bit her neck and then he must have taken her somewhere.”
“That's impossible,” John muttered, hurrying up the stairs. “O'Malley's one of my oldest friends. He'd never do anything to hurt my family!” Hurrying to Izzy's room, he pushed the door open. “Isobel?” he called out. “Where are you?”
“I told you!” Rita shouted, stumbling to her feet and then leaning against the wall as she felt a wave of dizziness rushing through her head. “He took her!”
“Isobel!” John raced to another room. “Isobel, say something!”
“He took her!” Rita shouted again.
“Isobel!”
“He took her, dude!” Rita said with a sigh. “Are you deaf, or something? That O'Malley guy hurt her and took her!”