Night 3

James Dalton sat reading the notebook that he had procured the night before. He was learning a great deal about Jessica Fairchild and her patient. He was starting to understand why one of the big men on campus would be concerned with a psychoanalyst and her project. It was simple once he read the part about the nurse and five orderlies. The guy that Jessica was working with was obviously a danger to the undead in the city. He stopped and looked around. No one else was awake yet. He continued to read and found himself wondering if they were all being watched like she was. He hoped not.

He stopped at the sound of footsteps. He knew the pattern well, even after years of being away. Those footfalls belonged to Doctor Jacobi. “Good morning’, Doc.’

Aaron stopped only part of the way down the stairs, “Good evening, James. What is that you’re reading?”

“Just catching up on some King, you know, that good ole spooky shit with the not so good endings.”

Aaron continued down the stairs, “Unless you came from Maine, I doubt you would ever have a notebook full of passages written by that particular individual. What is it?”

“I’ve got here a little thing that says that there are some vampires keeping tabs on some woman who’s supposed to be cleanin’ out some guy’s proverbial attic. My guess is that they see this guy as a threat the same way that they see us as one. Maybe this is a more substantial lead than your little redhead.”

Aaron finally made it to where James was standing, “So, you think we may have a legitimate clue.”

“No, what I really think I have is a setup. They were expecting something like this and I bet they have been using this woman, Jessica, for quite a while. It seems that they figured that I might come back, although how they knew, I have no clue. I don’t like dealing with someone that knows us that well.”

“Well, considering how long we worked this city, it was only a matter of time before they figured us out. And to think that they would not use what they knew to take any and all of us out of the picture is just moronic. I wish that we had more funds, but that is part of the life we have chosen for ourselves.”

James gave his usual eyebrow acknowledgement, “But this could be what we need to find the vampire hunter,” he paused making a disgusted face at how corny he was sounding, “hunters.”

Aaron took the notebook from him and thumbed through it, “Or, it could be the end of all vampire hunting and, well, the beginning of a very bad time for people in general.”

“We need something more legitimate than your redhead teeny bopper that you see everywhere, besides, every guy on the planet thinks they see one girl everywhere. Truth is they just need to get laid, Doc.”

“I think I know the difference between a fantasy and a woman that appears to be stalking a man old enough to be her grandfather. Truthfully, you are right about needing something more than a loose description and a hope that we can fit it to an individual. I think we may have to chance whatever we can use the notebook for.”

James flipped several pages after Aaron handed it back to him. James stopped and pointed to a page. “Here, it says that the guy has nightmares about a woman, a blonde. They seem to be a running theme. Problem is there’re no addresses or names other than Jessica Fairchild, the woman that now resides in the apartment where we used to stay when we only owned part of this building. I think that they planted her there so that if I came back, I would find this guy. That would mean that whatever clues are in here may just be a way to tell the big boys that I’m back in town.”

Aaron looked at James, “Then they know by now. If we don’t move, they will.”

“Especially for a piece of me, and well, the Doc isn’t exactly a worthless trophy.”

Aaron gave James a wry look, “Funny, but I understand. Although, I don’t think there are any clues in here. It is a way of telling when you show up. That means they know what they’re up against. But, from this, they seem very concerned about this individual. They don’t want him out.”

James walked away. He stopped at one of the tables and then started playing with a revolver. “No clues. Are you sure?”

Aaron sat down the book, “How much have you read and still found nothing other than a woman’s name?”

“Almost the whole damn thing.”

“That’s what I mean, your idea that it is a warning mechanism is right, it has to be. The hunt is expanding and quickly. I think that they want to be sure they get everyone as soon as possible. We have to do something, and I think I know what.”

“I hate it when you start thinking. So, what’s the deal?”

“Simple, we go back to her apartment and befriend her. Then we just work our way up the chain until we find the vampire at the top, the one holding all the strings, unless you have a better idea.”

“Why do you always have to come up with that kind of stuff, it’s like you have their rule book or something.”

“I’ve learned how they play the game and I like to use it against them.”

“Why can’t you just use a gun?” James slammed the chamber shut and shoved the revolver in Doc’s face.

“If only they were like the modern TV versions, we could do it like that all the time, but you know just as well as I do that it can take years to get to the vampire behind the countless puppets.”

James pretended to holster the weapon, western style, twirling and stance just like something out of one of those old John Wayne movies. “Yeah, well, I guess we’d better get to work, where’s Anya?”

The tall, raven haired beauty stepped into the room on stiletto heels and wearing a black business suit that seemed to enhance her already considerable shape. “I’m right here. Why?”

Aaron turned to her, “We think we’ve a bit of a plan.”

Anya pursed her full, dark lips, “Please, enlighten me, Doc.”

Aaron looked at James and James shook his head with the reluctance of a man who knows he really has no choice. “Well, it just so happens that our masterful hunter friend has stumbled across a little tidbit of information that may give us a lead. Granted, it is one that may take a while to follow, but it’s more than we thought we had.”

Anya took a step forward, “Please, continue.”

Aaron shook his head, his blue eyes connecting with hers, “James found a notebook that was in the possession of a puppet and that notebook seems to be a collection of notes on another puppet. The one in question is a woman by the name of Jessica Fairchild. If we follow her to the top, we will find our vampire.”

Anya took another step forward, “Then let’s get to it, shall we.”

Aaron looked at James and then back to Anya with his cool, calm blue eyes, “Anya, it could be a trap. You have to remember that this time, we’re being hunted.”

“So, sometimes you have to take risks.”

James shrugged and he shouted, “Who the hell do you think you are talking to here? Hello, I think we understand the whole risk thing.”

“Things are getting worse.”

“You can talk to me about worse when you are standing face to face with a creature that is seven times your age, a hundred times stronger, so fast you can’t even see it move and can control other people’s thoughts. Last time I checked, you had never done the fighting. So why don’t you just stand back and watch and let the pros take care of this one. Kay.” It was evident that James was extremely pissed.

Anya shook her head at him, “Sorry, you’re right. I do stay on the back lines. But, we have to do something. Think about it, there are only the two of you in the entire city, hell, the whole northeast now. We have to stop this before there are no hunters anywhere. And, if they can take us out, with our organization, do you think that anyone that works independently can possibly stand a chance.”

Aaron shook his head in agreement with her last statement.

James turned so that he did not have to see her face. He did not feel like going back to a place they knew he would return to. They would have someone waiting and watching, someone who knew him. He could feel the fear that he remembered from when he first started. He did not like being the one who was hunted. It was an awkward feeling and seemed to make things that much more dangerous. He felt uncomfortable walking into a trap. He did not like that feeling any more than he liked returning to New York.

Aaron clasped his shoulder. The wizened hand had a strong grip, “James, we have no choice, you have to go back.”

“She’s seen my face, what if she takes me for a stalker or something and calls the cops, then what?”

“We’ve had run-ins with officials before. Don’t worry about it.” Anya did not have a very good voice for consoling people. James figured that she used other assets to comfort most people, if she even had time for that kind of thing.

James started pacing. He did not want to do this again, especially not in a city where he knew he was the minority in more ways than anyone could understand. He needed to get back to the west and the openness of the people and the longer days and the warmer weather and get away from the drear, where the undead seem to be able to find nooks and crannies in which to hide at any time of the day. He despised any place where the shadows seemed darker than a moonless night. Chicago was a close second on his list of places not to go, Detroit, and then the other cities were not that bad. New York was the perfect breeding ground for cockroaches, rats, dumb asses and vampires. He did not like the first three and hated the last with a passion.

Now, he was being asked to go out and let the vampire find him while he was looking for them. He did not like the idea. It felt more like being bait than being a hunter. It was bad enough that they fought against things that had supernatural powers. He did not need to be asking those things to come after him on their terms instead of his. He finally turned to Anya, “Alright, I’ll do it.”

Anya became as close to girly as James had ever seen the woman, “Good, go.” Her eyes were huge and her voice was higher.

James set the revolver down. He started tracing lines on the table. He was remembering his third and last girlfriend. She was one of those classic blonde beauties that no American could seem to get enough of. She had dark skin that had been perfectly bronzed in the California sun. Her eyes were a deep blue like the ocean and she loved to show off her perfect body. He remembered that it was a young and stupid vampire that at first he thought was just a dumb kid taking some fad too far. Back then he was a kid, until he found his last love with a fanged freak hanging onto her left leg and blood pouring out of her like beer out of a broken keg.

He stopped tracing her name and finally came to the conclusion that these were his friends and family and it was time to risk his neck for them. He looked Anya in the eye, “I don’t know about this, but I’ll give it a shot.”

He walked over to a small desk and picked up his overcoat, “I’ll be back shortly. Don’t follow me. If I fail, someone has to save the world.” With that he walked out and into the warm night. It was Melissa, his old girlfriend that was on his mind. He had a score to settle and no crazy vampire that was going to hunt him was going to get in the way of it.

He took the most direct way back to Jessica’s apartment, but he walked it slowly. He did not want to get there too quickly. He needed to clear his mind and then prepare a way to befriend a woman who was going to think he was completely crazy. Not to mention, a woman who was certified to lock him away permanently. He had not tried to talk to someone nicely in a very long time. His life of kill-or-be-killed had hardened him and made him very bitter. And he was not sure he could start a conversation with someone who wanted to be in the city.

He stopped outside the building. He had not felt nervous in ages. He had no idea what he was going to say even though it had taken him nearly an hour to walk there. He decided he would just wing it and whatever was going to happen was going to happen. He waited for someone to come out and ran to catch the door and then went inside. He remembered that it was so much easier when he had no idea whether someone was going to be there or not.

As he walked the stairs toward the young woman’s apartment he pondered the simple questions of what they would have in common and why he would be out at nine-thirty on a Wednesday. He put those questions behind him as he walked closer to the door. He looked down at himself. He looked like a wanderer or a laborer. He had no reason to talk to a psychiatrist.

The door opened and she looked up and the attractive young woman jumped, “Oh my god.” She looked up at him wide eyed and trying to catch the breath that he had scared out of her.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” James was ready to bolt.

“What the hell are you doing just standing outside my door like that?” Jessica was still alarmed, but trying not to react too adversely.

“Well, I was, okay, I have no idea. I was here last night looking for some acquaintances and well, I never really found them and I was wondering if you were certain that you didn’t know anything about the people that had this apartment before you.”

“I’m certain, I didn’t find anything here when I moved in. Not even something scribbled on the wall.” She gave that ‘I’m sorry’ look with the overly obvious shrug that was so programmed it looked like it fit better in a sixth grade play than on a twenty-something psychiatrist.

“Well, I’m sorry for bothering you, it’s just that I have to find them and…”

“Wish I could help, but I was just leaving.” She made a little, polite smile that said she was in a hurry to get away from him. “Bye.”

He stood there, being stupefied. She shoved past him. “Hey, where ya headed?”

Jessica stopped, laughed and fought back the smile before turning around. “I was just going out for a drink and, no, you can’t tag along.”

James shrugged, “No, didn’t think I could, but the streets can get pretty dangerous around here. I happen to be pretty good at scaring off the more pain in the ass types. I could just walk you to wherever you’re goin’ and I’m sure a young gentleman will walk you’re…you back.” He was getting frustrated and he almost let it through.

Jessica looked at the ceiling of the hallway and she tried not to laugh. “Okay, look, I’ve been living here for a while now and I think that I can handle myself. Thank you.”

James took a step forward, “It was just an offer. Of course,” he had no idea what he was going to say.

“Of course what?” Jessica said still fighting back the laughter.

“I have done work as a professional body guard and as a bouncer in L.A. and even though the lights are still pretty bright here, ya never know what’ll happen.” He was grasping at straws and he wasn’t getting anywhere.

“And that’s supposed to get me to change my mind?” She turned and walked away.

James decided it was time to give up. He started walking after her, keeping his distance. Then, a thought struck him. “What do you think of the city?”

Jessica rolled her eyes, “It’s alright, I guess. I’d rather be back home.”

James smiled, “Me too. I used to work here, with the guys I came looking for, and I ran across some unfriendly types. Ever since, I’ve hated the city. I guess, it has some nice points, but I don’t like how easy it is for people to hide from themselves in all these shadows.”

Jessica stopped and looked at him, “What? I mean, that’s odd, no one ever says something like that here. That took guts.”

James smiled, it felt odd, “I told you, I’m from the west, and I prefer it out there. The people, the weather, everything is better. And it takes guts to do what I do.”

Jessica let curiosity overcome commonsense, or what she thought was commonsense. “What do you do?”

James answered almost too easily, “Let’s just say I’m into the whole defending the innocent thing. I’ve done security and police work. A long time ago, I was one of those surfer guys. That took guts, I guess when you see someone you care about get hurt, it changes things. You learn who you are and figure out where your priorities really are.” By the end of the sentence he was holding the door open for Jessica.

Jessica waited for him on the sidewalk so that he could catch up, “Not too many people are that open, usually they try funny stories with me.”

“Well, I don’t live a very funny life and not a life easily spoken about. So, about that walk…?”

She smiled and this time, it was in his favor, “Sure, but I have to warn you, I’m dangerous.”

James looked at her with a cocked eyebrow, “How dangerous can you possibly be?”

“I’m a psychoanalyst.”

“Okay, that’s pretty dangerous, although I’m more worried about actual psychiatrists. All that work with the crazy ones that they let out on the streets and getting way into their heads. Just doesn’t add up in my book.” James smiled. He still felt odd, and he was purposefully breaking one of the first rules.

Jessica was falling into his conversation like a lost pup into the arms of a young boy. He had never seen that reaction and he could not explain his own. Every time she looked at him with those blue eyes he could not help wanting to talk more. He had forgotten what it was like to have that kind of an effect on people. He remembered that he could, but ever since that day long ago, he had never cared to be on anyone’s good side.

Only moments later he was in a small Irish pub having a drink with a young lady. He hoped he could keep from breaking the rules. He knew all too well that people let their tongues wag too much after a few drinks and a person became even more prone to talk about pointless bullshit, or worse extremely meaningful bullshit, after a few hours of adult play.

He knew he only had a couple of hours before she would go back home and they would never see each other. He downed the last of a beer. “Well, I, I don’t know what to say. I didn’t expect to be here. Um, can I walk you home?”

She looked at him with a grin that spoke of alcohol and flattery, “Sure.”

James cocked an eyebrow. The two left together and he still felt awkward. Once back at her apartment building, he stopped. She opened the door and he just stood there. Jessica leaned against the door as it leaned against her, “What?”

“What do you mean what? That’s it. It was wonderful, but I need to get some sleep, and I bet you do, too.” James stood there watching her.

“Okay, true, but if you don’t find your friends, you’ll get in touch with me before you leave, right?”

James was the one laughing then, “I have your number and I promise, Jess, I’ll give you a call.” With that she turned and let the door close behind her. He had made a friend for the first time in what seemed like an eternity. He found himself hoping that she would be more, but knew that it was taboo.

He found himself walking back and pondering why he was who he had become. Then he remembered that it was his job to kill and stay alive and to keep some of the darkest secrets in the world. He started to realize that he would have to make certain that after the setup, he would leave her and hopefully she would make him only a memory. He hoped that he did not cause anything bad to happen to her. It was always a bad idea for a hunter to use someone that they could befriend. Vampires liked that kind of thing. They found that it was a useful weakness. Those were the reasons he was an asshole.

He stood outside the warehouse for hours. He did not want to have to confront Anya after a night like that. He had no way of explaining what had happened. Anya would eat him alive and he would have absolutely no defense. He would hate having to put up with her girly side, even though it was more ghastly than attractive. He took a seat on the sidewalk and watched a few weekday night stragglers pass by in a part of the city that did at least seem to sleep. He stayed there until dawn.

Day 4

Jessica woke up feeling like she had not slept at all. She looked at the beeping alarm clock and wished that it were a Saturday. She did not want to be awake, especially after the night that she had had. James was amazing, older than her she figured, but something about him was special, she dared not even think about what it was. She turned over and then slung out her hand behind her, hitting the alarm button with years of practice making it more routine than effort. She then slid out of bed leaving the blankets to shift as she moved.

Once up, she walked to the living room and picked her remote for the television off of the end table and turned on the morning news. She liked to stay on top of what was going on, but found that all too often she was unable to keep up with the outside when her job was to deal with all the things that happened in the deepest recesses of the human mind, a place that was far more confusing and dangerous than the real world.

She took both hands, trailing her forefingers down her nose, to wipe the gritty tear residue from her eyes so that she could see the picture more clearly. As she did, she noticed that the coverage was of a fire. She went to make herself some breakfast, or rather to pour a bowl of Raisin Bran and milk. The news seemed to have an endless number of arson and murder stories, and that morning over the milk and raisins was turning out no different so she decided to reread the ingredients in her cereal.

Just as she was stuffing the last spoonful of bran that she could get on the spoon into her mouth, they mentioned the Arthur Ulbrik Hospital. She dropped her spoon when she realized that it was one of the fire stories. She found that her feet were walking her over to the TV set without her thinking about it. Once there, it was confirmed. The hospital was no more. After watching the story and seeing that there were no survivors, she turned off the television and walked over to a window where she could look out and see the morning haze. She wished that it would have the fog from her grandmother’s farm, but she knew that it was the smog of that dreadful city.

She was lost. She had no idea what she was going to do. She had nothing to do now. She had no way of saving her career from being just another paper pusher at the office. She had wanted to prove herself so that she would be able to work with people and on her first chance, something like this had happened and ruined it for her. She had lost all desire to go to work that day. Her patient was gone. At least he would pose no threat to anyone, and then she questioned herself as to whether or not he was really a threat.

She lost her grasp on the moment and soon was wandering in thought about so many things that she did not realize how much time was going by as she stood there. She was overwhelmed. It was so unfair that on the same night that she met such a wonderful man, that her future would disintegrate in front of her eyes. It was a cruel and dark humor that the world had and she wished there was a way out.

The phone rang, tearing her from her stare and rousing her from her thoughts. She answered with the lump of confusion and fear in her throat and in her voice. “Jessica Fairchild, how may I help you?”

“Jessica, this is Dr. Fitzpatrick, is something wrong?” He actually sounded concerned.

“I just found out that…” she could not finish.

“I’m sorry; I had hoped to tell you before you found out on your own. I just received the call about the hospital. Don’t worry about coming in today, take some time and deal with it. The office will be waiting when you get back, feel free to stay out until next Monday if it’ll help.”

Jessica thought about it. Taking the day off would be a good idea, but more than that and she might end up just moving back to her real home. “Thank you.”

“Well, you take it easy and I’ll check in on you. Bye.”

“Bye.” She hung up first. She collapsed onto her couch and bit her lower lip to keep from sobbing. She did not want even the walls to know how close she was to breaking.

Night 4

He woke up and it was already dark. He looked down to see his soaked pajama bottoms and dry leaves fell off of him. He needed clothes, a pair of jeans and some tennis shoes would be nice. He also needed a shower and knew that the reason his pants were wet was that he had spent most of the day sweating. He stood and dusted the leaves that were clinging to his perspiration off. He smelled bad and he could taste the nastiness of sleep in his mouth. He rubbed his eyes with dirty hands and then started walking.

He walked for miles before spotting a car that had been left on the side of the highway. He decided he should chance it. He ran to the car, some old rusted out piece of crap that really deserved to be on the side of the highway, just to discover that it was as gutted as his memory. He then darted back into the woods and started walking again. It was not long before he was at the Tappan Zee and wondering exactly how he would cross. Then it struck him. There had to be some sort of maintenance walkway under the bridge, the trick was avoiding the maintenance men that might be working those late hours.

He started making his way toward the bridge, scoping it out to see if anyone was watching. A few cars driving past would not make a problem. They would not notice anything much beyond the road. He was more interested in late workers and guard fences to keep people from taking up residency under the massive structure. Despite his preparations for an action movie challenge, the only thing he was confronted with was a loose gate in a large chain link fence and a long walk. Maybe it was too easy or maybe it was just another bridge.

Hours later he found himself in the outskirts of Yonkers and was scrounging for clothes. After finding some outdated jeans and an old t-shirt and a pair of shoes that were falling apart, he felt a little better about braving the city. At least he did not have to worry about glass and gravel underfoot any more. He sat a while and then started walking, not knowing exactly where he was headed and hoping that he was doing the right thing.

His feet hurt and his bruises and twisted joints pounded as they tried to heal under the rigor of constant movement. It was a rhythm that he could have easily done without. He knew that he needed help, but had no idea where to find it. Then he realized that just a Metro Card away was Jessica Fairchild’s place and getting the help he needed; if he could convince her to help him. It was his only shot, at least until his memory came back.

After walking through the streets of places he recalled never wanting to be, he finally decided to duck into the subway and try his luck down there. There were plenty of people to steal from or bum from, but he felt bad enough just smelling and looking like a bum. He also had a feeling that he was not the type to ask for help, otherwise he would have been able to ask for a ride and probably would not need to know how to hotwire a vehicle.

He looked around and then decided that he would try to slip through the turnstile while no one was looking and hope the cameras missed him. He pushed himself into a large group and tried to squeeze past, sucking his gut in and sliding around. He did not know where he learned that crazy contortionist stuff, but it was helpful and got him past. He kept walking toward the trains and started looking for the one that was headed to Manhattan. He did not care where, as long as he got to the island.

The group he had gone through the turnstile with was splitting up and he decided he should quicken his pace a little to look as if he knew where he was going. He was looking at the signs and reading them as quickly as possible and then a cop yelled, “You there, stop!”

His initial impulse was to do as the man said, but he had little choice after the things that had happened the night before. He subtly whispered, “Ah, shit,” under his breath and then took off at a full run despite the pain in his ankles. He darted down onto the tracks and the cop followed yelling things that he did not listen to because he knew he needed to concentrate on not feeling the heat and the stabbing in his joints. He went down the tunnel and the cop followed.

In the darkness his eyes adjusted and then he noticed that the cop was losing ground. The bad thing was that he knew he could not go back and when he came out the other side someone would be waiting. He had to find a way to get out of the tunnel without the cops catching him at the exits that they knew about; of course, that was every exit. So he just ran to outrun the cop behind him and hope that a train was not about to come down the rail.

He felt the darkness filling him. He was growing calm and he could no longer hear the footfalls that had been echoing behind him. His feet pounded on the cement below as he pushed toward the other side. He kept his eyes open and moving to spot any side entrances and maintenance passages. Then he felt the cement give. Then he heard crumbling. Then he felt himself falling and screaming. He fell into darkness that was perfectly complete and then splashed into water below. The water kept him from breaking his back.

He came to the surface gasping for air and feeling new pain in his left ankle. He wished that the torture would end. After a few seconds, he was calm, but he could see nothing. He was afraid to move. He had no idea where he was or which direction he was facing. He would have rather dealt with the cops. He thought that that particular preference was based on something other than the darkness.

He stood there waiting for his eyes to adjust as much as they could and he tried to calm his heart so that he could hear a little better. The sound of water and something, no, many somethings crawling around slowly came to him. He figured it was sewage but the only real smell was stagnancy. He knew that the crawling had to be rats. He decided that he would have to use his hand to follow the wall and find a way out.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, there were stories about the great labyrinth of tunnels, sewers and abandoned subways that stretched beneath the city. There were also stories of rats the size of men and alligators that could swallow a person whole living in those strange, forever shadow encased halls of terror. He had been sure that they all were just old suburban legends, now he was questioning a lot of things. Maybe next he would see a ghost or be visited by the voice of some dead god or something.

It took a while of sloshing through the cold, wet darkness and walking over and past all the little things that were going bump in his most perfect city night, but he found a wall of slime and grunge and some fungal smell that was made more potent by his rubbing the wall as he followed it. His ankle throbbed as he tried to keep his balance in the muck that lined the bottom of the water. He thought that most people would vomit from the smells he was sloshing up, but he did not feel the need to heave at either the touch or smell of the things in his lonely, dark, dank little hole.

He found himself following turns and skipping some corridors in hopes that he would find his way through the maze despite the darkness. He knew that it was possible that he could die in the eternal darkness and disappear forever from the world, but he figured it was better than some things. His eyes kept moving even though they were useless. He hoped that he would see light again soon, and it kept him hugging the wall and trying to find a passage that lead upward instead of only into the darkness.

The chill of the water started getting to him and he wished that he had at least found some shoes that fit him better than the oversized and now waterlogged pieces of debris that he was wearing. The thin denim that covered his legs held too much water and let too much cold in. He hoped he did not get any strange diseases from being in the muck. He could imagine more ways to die down here than he thought was healthy. He even thought that he might just give up and start talking to some other self and die of starvation, unless he started eating rats and got food poisoning or some rat disease that would finish him off.

He did not like the bleakness of the situation, yet as he walked the darkness only swallowed his hope and desire to see the light. It seemed that it was alive and speaking to him. It was crawling and moving and playing with him and it was not water that he was sloshing through, it was more like a thicker, colder dark and the walls seemed to be comprised of solid blocks of blackness covered in the void’s own version of sweat. If dark was human, he thought to himself, this would be like having sex with her.

He continued to walk. He was getting tired of moving through the dank nastiness that seemed to have become his place in life. Then, he found a ladder. It was cold metal, with round rungs. He started climbing the sludge covered thing and when he got his feet out of the water, he heard the dribble of water running out of his pants and shoes. He pulled himself to the top, feeling his thumb disagreeing with his effort. Then he pushed aside a cover and found himself in a large subway station. It was lit poorly, but it was still enough to make his eyes burn and blur. He pulled himself around to sit at the top and let the water run out of his pants while he adjusted to the newfound light.

As he sat there, he took in the image before him. The station was huge. It still had trains in it that had been taken over by dust and insects. The platforms and walls seemed so much brighter than the drab gray of the modern versions. It spoke of an age of extravagance and grace that died away a long time ago. It was a breathtaking contrast to the hell he had just spent an immeasurable time walking through.

He stood up and pulled the cover back over the manhole. He took another good look around to see if there was anything he had missed on the first inspection. He decided that even though it was quiet, it would be a good idea to play it safe. He started walking toward the large stairway that led down into the station. As he did, he heard a pile of boxes move. He looked over to the pile of boxes, one of many that had been left in the rundown subway station. He dropped to one knee and then watched as a man crawled out from underneath the pile of dusty crates and cardboard heaps. The man was a wearily thin black man with thick lines creasing his face and gray, wire brush hair. His eyes were sparkling and his clothes were dusty tatters of what would have been a respectable three piece suit. His shoes were shimmering in the dim light, perfectly polished to a mirror shine.

He stood up and pulled out a rag and a small box of clattering trinkets. He then looked around and the lights seemed to brighten. “’Scuse me, sir? Somebody out dere? Hey, missa, someone wan’ a shine?” The black man looked at the newcomer. “Looks like ya coul’ use a lil spit shine, missa. Ya ain’t wantin’ no one to see ya looking’ like dat, now is ya?”

Then, the newcomer stood and backed off.

“Sir, there’s no need to be a frettin’, I’s just a man tryin’ to get a couple pennies. Just gimme a chance to shine dem shoes up real nice an’ all fer ya, missa.”

The stranger to the station stopped and looked around. He needed far more than a shoe shine and this guy was acting crazy if he thought anyone would be impressed by a nice pair of sewage reeking shoes. He looked down and then suddenly the whole room blazed with light and there seemed to be a hundred voices mingling and footsteps echoed and papers rustled even as the sound of an old and unsteady train reverberated through the then flickering light.

The old man looked to the younger, “Missa, I know ya be thinking’ it odd, but ya got the eyes.”

“What eyes?”

“The eyes of the dead, missa. You see what they see, don’t ya? Or maybe, ya just seein’ cause ya hafta. You already know dat you bein’ dif’rent from all dem other folk. But, ya got’s to be remembrin’ why.” He then walked up and bent down and started wiping the muck from the stranger’s shoes.

The stranger looked down and watched as the man began to dust off the old tattered shoes. Then he looked up, “You been walkin’ an’ awful long ways, missa. Mind me askin’ to where’s ya off to?”

He smiled back at the man’s gleaming eyes, “I don’t really know. I don’t even know where I’m coming from.”

“We’s all got’s to be havin’ a place to start from, a home. Me, I be from Alabama, came up North to earn a livin’ an’ I’m fixin’ to have my granddaughter bussed up from Silas. Maybe you be remembrin’ ‘fore too long, missa. I be puttin’ every shiny nickel I’s got on a little town with a good ole ghost story. Them’s the best, they make for a good raisin’.”

“Then why do I feel like I know this place so well?”

The black man looked down and began to really dig at the dirt and grime. He did not seem to notice the smell of the stranger. “Bein’ as you look like the travelin’ type, maybe cause you need to be here. Maybe cause what’s ‘bout to happen.”

“What’s that?”

“I don’t know, but it’s got people scared of the dark, they just ain’t showin’ it yet. They be cringin’ in fear of the new monsters a little much and I’s been doin’ some thinking and I thinks it ain’t those no more. Missa, the old monsters never really went away, an’ ‘fore long, they be showin’ their faces.” The old man looked up to the muck covered stranger, “Don’t let that happen, missa, don’t let the people learn ‘bout them old things. Bad ju-ju out dere, missa and you just da voodoo they be needin’.”

“Bad ju-ju, what’s that?”

The man looked up and his eyes sparkled, “Ju-ju, they be magic, they be darkness and they be the dead that ain’t stayin’ that way. If ya be wantin’ some help, maybe you’ll be finding’ it an’ not even askin’. Now, I’s be in a hurry an’ o’er dere be a store if ya be needin’ some things.” His eyes stopped glistening with that strange look, “Hope ya be well, missa. Hope ya find ya beginnins out dere.” The man stood and turned. He walked away and then the sound of a train rattling along the tracks came and everything shimmered.

He sat up in the pale light gasping for air. The huge chamber was empty. His legs tingled where they had been dangling through the manhole cover as he had laid there asleep. His eyes ached and had dried sleep grit in them. He was exhausted. He had not even realized that he had passed out. The air was fresher and his clothes had dried out a little.

He pulled himself out of the hole and waited for the incessant tingling in his legs to end. His eyes hurt from the strain of so little light and he felt a thirst like he figured he had never known. He looked around and noticed that he must have gotten a good look at the place before he had faded off to sleep and been possessed by that strange dream of the shoe shine man. He shook off the daze of sleep and stood. He still felt out of breath from waking so suddenly.

He started walking toward the stairway and noticed that there were old shops on the upper part of the platform. He walked toward them and noticed that one appeared to be an old clothing store. The racks still stood and several boxes still sat untouched. He figured it was worth a shot. He broke out one of the glass windows with his elbow and then knocked the leftover glass out and went in.

He began rummaging through the clothes and then through some of the newer looking boxes that had been stacked in the store. It seemed that someone had been using the place for storage. It took a while but he found a sturdy pair of black Nikes, a thick pair of Levi’s jeans and a good white T-shirt that fit snuggly. A little more and he discovered a box of soap and cleaners. He decided to take a quick sink bath; no, a long, intense one. He used some clothes to dry off and put on his newfound attire and happened across a black leather belt that held his shirt and pants in place around his waist nice and snug.

He went to a mirror to take a look and even though it struck him as outdated, it was good enough to pass for someone with a little bit more than nothing. He figured it would be a good idea to check the cash registers and discovered that they had not been ignored as had been the boxes of merchandise. He then went out and followed the stairways to the top. He found a normal sized metal door that had been used to lock off the area. He looked at the door and then tried kicking it. Something popped and it flew open.

On the other side was a throng of people. They ranged from bums and cart ladies to the lawyers and doctors who always seemed to look almost inhuman in their little world of too much money. He stepped out and looked around. He was in the subway system and no cop had any idea that he was there. He smiled and chuckled under his breath. Then he strode to the exit and went up to the streets.

He stepped out into the night air and breathed in the smell of oil, trash, people and food. He felt his stomach gurgle and twist with anticipation and he wanted to swallow even though there was nothing in his mouth. He saw the people, everywhere. The late night life, or perhaps early morning life, was out in force. The air was warm and the lights of the city were bright. He was in Manhattan. He needed a phone book.

He started walking, hoping he would find something familiar before long. He meandered through the streets and watched the people. He felt more alive and he felt more afraid than he had even during the dreams of the woman. What ever it was that made him so uncomfortable in the dark seemed to be closer, more alive and stronger in the heart of the city. It was as if the wooded area of the hospital made him safer and he knew it. He wished that he did not have to be there, but he knew that the city was his home Maybe not the one he knew when he was younger but it had become his home.

He started eyeing every payphone he saw, what few were left in the city, and hoped that he could find Jessica Fairchild listed in a phonebook. He walked for a while and then the sun began to peek over the buildings, casting an eerie half shadow over the world. He stood in awe of the creeping, living darkness and the glare that the gargoyles and pinnacles of the buildings of the city seemed to beg for. He began to wonder if the bad ju-ju was not just a strange jumble of dream stuff.

As he stared he heard a scream from an alley. He ran toward the sound and found a man pushing a woman against the wall. His body was so close to hers that it seemed to be crushing her against the wall and the man’s hand was around the woman’s throat pushing her face into one big squint as she tried to cry. The tears ran in steady streams and the man whispered in her ears.

He walked toward the two. His shoes were silent and everything seemed to fade into the background. He grabbed the man’s shoulder, his long, unkempt hair twirling and then something glinted as it sped through the air. He caught the mugger’s arm and noticed that a long knife was what had made the sparkle. He grinned and broke the muggers arm with a quick strike. Then he kneed the mugger in the gut and stepped back. The woman crumpled to the ground and began to wail and sputter, her fear finally allowed to pour out.

The woman cried for a while and then stood and began to run. She stopped and turned, “Who are you?”

“I don’t know.” He looked down at the mugger.

“How can I repay you, you just saved my life.” The woman said.

“A place to get some rest and a phone and phone book would be great.”

The woman rummaged in her purse for a moment and then handed him three hundred dollar bills. “This should be more than enough for a room. Thanks.” With that, she turned and ran. She still had tears in her eyes and her voice would not stop trembling for days. He knew fear and he knew that she did not know the half of it. What the mugger had accomplished was not rape, though it may have quickly become so. He did not know why he thought on it for so long, but he was still there when the mugger began to regain consciousness. He gave him a quick boot to the head and then ran off to find the nearest hotel.

He walked in and looked around. He was so tired that his bones seemed to ache. He needed to get a real meal and some decent sleep. After explaining why he needed to sleep through the day after traveling all night and losing his bags and arriving shortly after dawn with so little money, he was walking to a room with the card key in his hand. He got to the room, opened the door and saw the daylight pouring through the window. He pulled the curtains shut and turned out the lights.

He stretched and felt his muscles pulling back into place. It had been too long since he was really active. He looked back at the window. He knew that something was creeping back into his life and that the light was creeping away, possibly for the last time. He knew something was different about him, he knew that he would awake at dusk and he knew that his fear of the dark was just the beginning.

He lay down on the bed, leaving the covers untouched. For the first time that he could remember, he could sleep without being tied down to a bed. He would never allow himself to be tied like that again. He felt completely relaxed and knew that it was time for him to sleep. He knew that the face that had been haunting him would not see him while he slept and he could feel that the web was no longer holding him. He truly was free.

The darkness was complete and total. It was enough to strangle the life out of hope and chill a man to the bone. James felt as though he should shiver at the cold, but did not let his muscles react. It would be a sign of weakness and he knew that it would be wrong to show weakness. He did not know where he was or why, and yet he knew that he was in trouble. He tried looking around, but there was only black void.

His eyes fought to adjust, yet they could not. Then he heard a voice, the accent was soft but the voice was strong, male and echoing in his head, “Hello, James, I had hoped for the day you would come back, waiting and planning. I hoped that I would be able to avenge my children’s deaths. Now, you’re back, a blast from the not so distant past. I owe you, what, six, seven, maybe more deaths. I think that I have the perfect remedy for a hunter like you.”

James tried to shake the voice from inside his skull. “Who the hell are you?”

“I am the night, I am the lord of this city and every vampire you killed while you were here was mine to look over, to protect. I will have revenge, by tearing your mind apart.”

“Show your face.”

The perfect Roman visage walked out of the shadows, dressed in a black suit that blended into the darkness so well that James could not distinguish between body and void. “This is the face of the ancient master that you have learned to fear, knowing that he was there, controlling everything around you. That’s right. There are those that are so powerful that you would never know they existed, hunter. I am one of those. I and even older ones are everywhere, running a world from the shadows and you and yours can do nothing about it. We even control you, yet another puppet.”

“What the hell are you talking about, no one controls me.” His voice was firm.

“We control everything. We are immortal, untouched by death, disease and not even your pathetic weapons can do much damage against the truly ancient. And besides, you are so ignorant, you don’t even see the wolf among you, the beast in the midst of the saviors.” The voice was almost laughing.

“You’re full of shit.”

“Really, you’ve always pondered, wondered and doubted. I know you have. I have had people watching you. It was the real reason you left, and still you are under her control.”

“Anya,” James whispered, barely audible to himself.

“So pure, doubt. Think on it. How many times has she known things that no one could possibly know, how often has she gone to dinner and never eaten? Does she drink, or, rather does she drink when you can see? What of her pallor, the fact that you have known her for fifteen years and she has never aged, not one wrinkle or one pimple to mark her face. The only cycle left to her is eternity.”

“Bullshit, that’s fuckin’ bullshit.”

“You’ve always thought on it, it’s been eating at you. And, even if she isn’t, she’s been trying to replace you.”

“No one can replace me, not yet, and there’s always someone better.”

“Really, when was the last time a hunter was attributed with sixteen plus kills?”

“Eighteen sixties when some guy out west who used a revolver managed to kill twenty one.”

“She is using technology and some little boy who couldn’t stand face to face with the youngest vampiric whelp in the city is taking your job because he can make things. See, I know everything that happens. It’s just too dangerous to assault so many at once, at least for me. On the other hand, I have a gift for you, unless, you accept the fact that you’re just another puppet and leave.”

“I am no puppet.”

“A man on strings who is controlled by a vampire; one who is going to replace him with a more modern version so that her dark master can fulfill his vendetta against the younger vampires. You’ll see. Yes, you will. You’ve always been a free spirit and now that you know your freedom has been relinquished, I’m sure your mind will open and then you will see.”

“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about,” James was furious.

“Yes, you do. You’ll see that the boy is too young, inexperienced and sloppy to ever be a real hunter. You’ll see that Anya is one of us and you’ll know that it is time to give up. You see, your cause, is not your own, you are a tool, just like every other mortal. You are simply a means to an end.”

“Never, I make my own destiny.”

“No one makes their own destiny. They only fight against those who make it for them. Go ahead, wait and find out. Besides, what do you have to lose?”

James thought of Jessica and tried to shake it. He could not. He had known her for a few hours and already he realized that he was a threat to her life.

“Yes, another girl, the one thing that a hunter should never.”

“How’d you know…?”

“Of course, I know the rules, fool. I was there when they were written, over eight hundred years ago for Innocent.”

James wanted to get away from the darkness and found that he could not. He stepped and went nowhere. He was standing on nothing, literally. He was in a total lack of existence and then James woke up and saw that the darkness was a dream. He pulled back his covers and stood on the cold floor. He wiped the cold sweat from his face. He had dreamed of the sun, of the warm waves of the southern California coast. He longed for those distant places that seemed to be only dreams etched in the hope that there was something more than the eternal darkness that seemed to consume him. Even more than the sun, he wished that he could see Melissa’s face again, without the pain and agony masked by the look of ecstasy that was forced onto her countenance. It looked real enough to him, but he knew that it was not what she wanted.

He stared at the window and the blinds over it. He slowly faded back into his real place. He swallowed the lump in his throat and fought back the tears. He was not one for crying. He wished that he could just go back and start over again. He could see himself in the surf, challenging waves and trying some of the craziest training stunts he had ever seen. He wished he could cliff dive instead of hunt devils in the night. He was supposed to be a child of sunlight, not darkness.

Then he heard music. He turned toward his doorway and felt the vibrations. He knew that the music was not from Anya or Doc. He dressed quickly despite the pain in his temples and the sleepiness that still weighed on him. He walked out and then down the hall, following the music toward the garage. He stepped out and looked down the metal staircase and followed the music. He followed it to a man sitting next to the van who was working on something. .

He walked out to greet the boy that he knew would be there. He came down the steps silently and sneaked up behind the young man and saw the boy in a punk style outfit and faddish hair with the stupid highlights. He chuckled and thought to himself what he would be doing right then if it were not for the undead; surfing by moonlight off the southern Cali coast.

“Hey, are you the new kid?” James asked with a tinge of anger in his voice.

The boy spun around with his jaw hanging down, “Yeah, name’s Brick, Eddie Brick. You’re James Dalton, right?”

“That’s me and someone is playing the accordion in my skull and I don’t think they’re friendly.” James answered. “So, you make these gadgets and then what?

“Then you get to play with them.” The emphasis was on the ‘you.’

“We play with ’em,” James took care to emphasize the ‘we.’ “Sounds great, anything interesting?”

Brick turned and started to pick up something when the lights flickered. James was ready with his shotgun in one hand and a pistol in the other by the time it was fully dark. His eyes were quick to adjust and once they had, he noticed that Brick was holding a machine gun and crossbow. “Down, kid, it’s gonna get ugly.”

Brick hunkered down and then started making his way toward the glistening black, military armored Hum Vee. James walked backwards behind him, surveying from side to side, hoping that it was just a simple power outage. Something deep in his gut said he would rather be in a gale force hurricane and sucked down a riptide. At least then he could tell someone what a hell of a ride it was when he finally came back out. The two of them made it to the Hummer and Brick crawled into the passenger side as James circled around with his back to the truck as he moved to the driver side. He yanked the door open and looked to Brick, “Check the back, never get in a vehicle without checking it out. I’ll cover.”

Brick turned and started using the machine gun barrel as a pointer guide as he made his check of the Hummer. James slid in once Brick gave a nod that it was all good. The back-up battery lights were poor but they were enough to see by decently after the moments it had taken for them to get that far. James was driving and the lights burst onto the garage door in front of them showing a beautiful Asian woman with long black hair and jade green eyes baring two inch fangs and talons rather than fingernails. She leapt the Hum Vee as they barely passed under the rising automatic door. She was on the back and the garage door missed her on the way back down by only a few inches.

Brick turned to James, “What the hell do we do?”

James answered matter-of-factly, “You take the wheel.” Brick leaned over and started driving as they careened down the avenue. James opened the door and waited a second and then he was on top of the vehicle. Brick was fully in the driver seat and had control, except for the wildly swinging door. Then James fell on his back on the hood. Brick swerved and a new, silver Mercedes took the Hum Vee’s door off of its bottom set of hinges with a loud wrenching sound that was painful and full of metal and grit. James disappeared onto the top again and Brick kept the vehicle moving. Then there was a shotgun blast and heat started to bake through the Hummer. It was an incendiary round from hell, he thought. The door flapped wildly, banging back and forth but never catching because it hung askew as they raced through the city. Before long, three cop cruisers were in pursuit and then amazingly they were gone and the CB radio was a jumble of hisses and buzzes. Then the vampire flew off the back end with her face and chest burnt and landed lithely on the street and leapt a car as it came up behind them.

Brick took them off the streets and into an alleyway. Brick pulled to a stop and shut off the engine. James hopped down and Brick slid out, pushing the door to the side. James turned to him, “They’re trying to get us all right, got a cell phone?”

Brick pulled one out of his pocket and speed dialed Doc immediately. “Hey, Doc, you need to go to the back up joint, ASAP. We’ll be there shortly.”

James looked at him questioningly.

“Just follow me, and keep that flame bazooka of yours ready.” He started walking.

James snickered, “You don’t have to tell me to watch my back. I’ve been at it for years.”

“How the hell’d you stay on top of that thing with me swaying like that? Are you some kind of X-gamer in your off time?” Brick asked, still in amazement.

“A long time ago, I was a surfer, not a killer. Those were days long ago. Now, I have men’s work to be doing so let’s get the hell to where it is we’re going.”

They walked for a while with Brick leading and James following to the destination he knew nothing of. For all the things that had stayed the same in the dreaded, fucked up sore of a puss hole city, there seemed to be just as many new ones and they only seemed to make the godforsaken city worse. James would have given anything to see sunlight and waves and sand again, and wouldn’t it be nice if Jessica could be there too.

“Hey, where the hell’d you come from?” James asked.

Brick gave a jerky nod, “Good ole Maine, Portsmouth area. Anya recruited me a couple weeks back and I was working on some things that she was bringing down from my workshop up there. What about you, heard you were working out in L.A. or some shit?”

“I love California, it’s home,” the despair and hurt were evident in his voice.

“What brought you back here? I mean, I know you were up here for a while.”

“Anya. She said something about some great emergency where my particular expertise could be used.”

“Blowing shit up?” Brick said with that action movie hero adoration tale-tell in his voice.

“Yeah, hardcore shit. I guess when the boys started disappearing, she thought it would be good to have me back since I work well alone and pair well with Doc. She didn’t say you would be here. Then again, she knows how I feel about dragging people into this world.” James was easier to open up than usual. He thought his binding was wearing thin, or maybe he just wanted to surf again a little too badly and it was softening the hunting side of him. Maybe he was cheering up, catching a little sun.

“What’s so bad about it, there’s not much sleep and the work is tough but it’s better than Monday night football if you ask me.”

James stopped, “You’ve never seen what they can do, have you? The way they fight when you do get close. That encounter back there, she was playing with us. She wanted us to run and she wanted me to fight and she’s going to use us to make sure she gets Anya and Doc, too. They aren’t like us, they don’t believe in mercy because our lives are meaningless. All those old comics, Dracula, Blade, all that Hollywood bullshit is pretty damn close, but there’s a big difference between reading about what some writer pecks out on an old Qwerty and actually seeing a beautiful face waste away to dust all movie and make-up style in front of your face. Or feeling the presence of a soul that hates you and loves you for killing it all at once and hearing the screams that are both human and feral like someone recorded a dying wolf over a baby’s screams and mixed it in a vat of Stephen King style scare. It’s just not the same. There have been times when I’ve seen the whole world come crashing down on me when I see one in a bed, lying there like a dozing teenager half loving their pillow and covered in frills and silk and as peaceful as any good mother’s little daughter that couldn’t do wrong if she killed someone, but know that that’s exactly what the little bitch did and then you try not to cry before you drive the stake in. Then her face contorts and the sinews and ligaments stand out as she screams into her mother night like the train of death itself blowing its whistle and blood bubbles and froths even as her fangs come out and you realize that you never should have found out they were real and you know that the only thing you want is your ignorance and your innocence back because then you wouldn’t have to ask yourself every night if this shit is real.”

Brick looked into the eyes of a man who was on the edge, the edge of giving up and walking back into the real world as if none of this was real. He could see the years and the nearly twenty dead vampires and the hard work and the long hours and the reflection of countless sights of death still hung in his eyes. There was a real man in there and Brick thought for a moment that he could picture the dark haired and blue eyed man standing on a beach holding a surf board in the midday sun, with a dark tan and spirited look that was probably close to the one he had had when he still fought a crusade instead of a policing war. “That sounds pretty shitty.”

James started walking and Brick took the lead again, “It is, by God it is.”

The two walked in silence for a long time and then James spoke up, “She was tough, the flames usually do more than just burn them like that.” It was a quiet and distant statement. Brick thought it was a review of the event more than a conversation starter.

“Really?”

“She fought like I’ve never seen.” That was also in a distant tone.

“What do you mean?” Brick asked thinking he might get James to sort things out.

“She was mean, tough, down right fucking scary. It was odd the way she moved like she was playing a game even with the flames leaping up all around her and I knew that she could have done so much more. Almost like a viper staring at a field mouse and knowing that the little rodent didn’t stand a chance but wanted it to believe it did. It was really odd.” He was starting to talk like he was there instead of somewhere far away.

Brick looked back over his shoulder, “So, what’s so odd about how she fought.”

“It was like she had more power than she wanted us to know, and yet it was so there, so real it was like I could touch the strength. She could rip most of the vampires I’ve heard about to shreds.”

“Maybe she was just really old.”

“Maybe or maybe we don’t even know the half of it.” The last trailed off as he sank back into thought. Brick shook his head as he saw what very well could have been one of his old surfer buddies contemplating a twenty-five foot swell for the first time. He wondered if that was how James actually saw it. He might be almost normal underneath the cowboy attitude and loner demeanor, or he just might be watching as a monsoon rolled in to smash him against pointy rocks.

They walked for awhile and came to a high-rise. James followed as the punk in the blue jeans and BKE gear walked toward the elevator. “Since when did we start basing our shit out of the high society realm?”

Brick turned after hitting the button for floor thirteen, “Since Anya funded it. After all, change might throw them off, as long as she didn’t trail us.”

James stepped forward as the elevator doors opened and Brick followed. The two rode silently to the thirteenth floor. When they stepped out, James raised one eyebrow. They were in an office that could have been any in New York. Brick slid in front of James with a quick sidestep that was a little wary and a little cocky. James admired the mixture, it made for good hunters.

They walked past the brunette who was playing receptionist and through the glass doors. Then, they went through a series of office spaces and finally into what might have been a vault if it did not hold a small and efficient weapon stash. James saw Doc and Anya. His countenance dropped. Her dark eyes peered into his and he glared back with the power of a man who believes in God because he has seen the Devil.

A long moment passed between the two as Doc and Brick looked on in silence. There were only four people in the city standing between the undead and the living and now the ranks seemed too tense to stay together for long. James broke the silence, “I had a bad dream, and I heard some shit. I heard there was a chance you were playing switch-hitter, Anya. Want to tell us something?”

“You know that I am different, but you can’t know why unless you know my story and that’s personal.”

“Not any more, one of those blood sucking fucks got in my head and another one almost killed us back there,” he gestured to Brick.

“And?” her tone was cold and biting, it cut like a blade of ice.

“And I’d like to know the truth. Now spill it, or we dance right here.” His tone was strong and even.

“You’ve seen their pets, the ones that don’t die; the demon hounds, the rats that are too big and too quiet to be rats. They make them by feeding them the blood without taking their blood first. It makes a creature that has both vampire and human qualities. Though they are nowhere as powerful as their masters, they are quite long-lived. The vampires deem that there is no difference between humans and other, more feral creatures. They used my family for years, turning us into creatures that could walk the day and use the gifts of their dark lords. I gained many strange traits from what they did to us back in Yugoslavia. I’m stronger, faster, and far older than a normal person. That is why you do not see me age. It is also why I can walk in the daylight. Most hunters have a reason for what they do, mine is different. They used me and my family for something other than food. That’s all you need to know.”

Again an ice cold silence settled over the four. Brick thought that outer space was probably warmer.

It took an eternity for the silence and the unearthly chill to pass. James was trapped in thought, evaluating Anya. He always thought her odd and that would explain a lot. But there was always that off chance that she was lying to save her ass. Then, James warmed up and a streak of surfer broke through, at least if you would have asked Brick.

“So, what now?” James asked in an almost normal voice.

Anya rubbed her temples, “I don’t know, we’ve lost the best place we had and we’re down to a few people. I think we need to skip the whole research part and push things ahead, break a few rules, cut the corners. We’re in a bad place and we need an advantage. Brick, I want to know who Jessica Fairchild works for and anyone else on up the line. We need to find the top mortal and start there. James, I want you to find Jessica. We don’t need them using her for bait. Doc, you go see if you can get in touch with Richard Drover, we’re going to need his help and he’s supposed to be in Cincinnati. I’m going to go back to the garage and try to get some stuff. Meet back here at six. We’re all going to need our rest.”

James rubbed his neck, massaging the stiff muscles. Something was not right and he still did not trust Anya. “Why split up, we do that and we’re all fodder. They seem to like the idea of a confrontation. We’re not going after them, they’re bringing this shit to us and we have to be ready. We need to stay together and watch each others’ backs. I almost got my ass kicked by some Bruce Lee wannabe with more powers than I’ve ever seen. We need to work together or we’ll be like the others, dead and maybe not peacefully. I don’t give a damn about personal vendettas and revenge, right now it’s about survival and the only way we can compare is if we stick the fuck together.” He seemed to be in panic, or at least as close as a cold, calculating, battle hardened cowboy-surfer could be.

Anya looked at him with her dark brown eyes and saw that he would not budge on his proposal. She was not thinking about just how bad things could get if they were alone. Brick and James knew, Doc had seen things like this before and Anya had always stayed in the back. She did not know what it was like to be on the front lines. She also did not know what it was like to have a hunter questioning her. She figured that it would happen someday, but why now when things seemed to be at their darkest.

“I say we go get Jessica, we’re pretty damn certain that she’s a part of this and she needs our protection and we need all the help we can get. Doc can try to get in touch with Rick by phone on the way and I don’t think going back to the garage is a very good idea, for any of us.” He was adamant. His calm was eroding away and emotions were coming through. He hated himself for letting his feelings take control, but there was a time when he was always like that. That was a long time ago when he lived for the sun and not the darkness.

Brick looked at them and saw that the team was falling apart, if they were ever a real team to begin with. They were all on edge and Doc was beginning to look worried. Anya sounded like she wanted to split the team up so they could all die and James was accusing her of being a bad guy. Brick was new to the game and he did not think that this was a normal part of the procedure. He bit his lip. “Hey, we got a car around here, because the Hummer’s pretty well trashed.”

Anya shrugged, “Well, there is the Impala.”

James asked, “Where?”

Anya turned away and began to stare at the wall, “Down in the parking garage, it’s the black one.”

Doc waited as the two glared and thought over things, then spoke to break the silence, “Well, my guess is that Jessica would rather see us than one of them and you never know what may happen. So, maybe we should get going.” He turned and walked out.

James followed after hurriedly and then Brick decided to go with his new mentor. Anya continued to stare at the wall. She thought of how she had just fractured the team more and how they might see her as an enemy now. Brick stopped at the door, “Hey, you coming or what?”

She turned and he could see that it looked as though she might have been crying. She nodded and crossed her arms, “Yeah, I’m on my way, let’s go.” Her voice was raspy and it sounded like she was choking back aggravation or perhaps even sobs.

By the time she got down to the parking garage, the other three already sat in the black Impala. James had that look on his face that seemed to fit so well on any man who was angry with a woman. She hated that look. It made her feel like she was not good enough and she already regretted the mistakes she had made. She climbed into the back seat and sat, moping for the rest of the ride. They arrived outside Jessica’s apartment building in silence.

James stepped out of the vehicle and the others followed suit. He looked to Doc and then at Brick. “You guys ready?”

Doc merely nodded and Brick said, “As ready as I’ll ever be.” Anya was still silent.

They walked up to the building and James buzzed Jessica’s apartment. No answer. He tried again and still nothing. He held in the buzzer and waited. There was still no answer. He tried the door and it was open and they walked in. The hall was dark. The others were right behind him. “Hey, Brick, think we could get some light?”

Brick looked around, “I don’t know, I can see if there’s a utility panel but I’m not sure where it would be.” He clicked on a mini flash light that he kept for just such an occasion.

“Well, let’s find it. This is already looking bad.”

They started down the hall, tracing the walls with their fingers. The darkness and the quiet stretched time like a boring lecture will stretch out a class. They began to hope instead of expect as their fingers found nothing other than fire extinguishers and doors. Then Brick opened a door that led down into the bowels of the building, “Hey, guys, over here.”

James stepped slightly in front of him, “Hold the light over my shoulder and make sure you go over everything with it. I don’t want any bats in my hair.” James pulled his Glock pistols out and started sweeping from side to side with the beam of Brick’s flashlight. They began to descend the stairs in just that manner. Doc and Anya stayed behind them.

James could see the dust motes floating in the artificial light and could smell the dankness of the lower levels of the building. He watched the light move across cement and piping fixtures and heating ducts and wished that he could see behind and inside everything. He hoped that the old legends about mist and bats were not true. He had never seen a vampire change shape, but that was as good a reason to believe in it as any. He felt cold despite his coat and felt bad for not reminding Doc to call Richard. If they all died tonight, who the hell was going to save this pathetic city? He felt and heard his shoes clicking on the steps and wished that he did not know that vampires had far better senses than humans. He could imagine the echoes that would resound in their undead ears from the mere vibrations that he picked up. It would be like thunder, so would his heart; it was pounding out of his chest. He really was losing his edge. He was falling apart and all it took was a power outage. He shook his head slightly, thinking to himself that life would be better if he were making surf boards and testing them. He wondered if he remembered how.

Brick thought that a power outage was nothing new. That was before you added a guy with two nine millimeter pistols, a chick that talked about how her family was fed blood so they had a permanent leash on them, and a guy with a doctorates in weird shit going down into a hole to kill things that were already dead. He did not like the idea of walking around with the perfect hunters bearing down on him in the darkness, especially when bullets and explosions did not always kill the bastards. He wished he had never found out they were real.

Anya almost wished she would get killed and that made the darkness that much worse. She expected every creak and pop and drip to be God’s vengeance coming down on her confused, worthless self so that the others might have better chances. She could see her rightful, fanged death descending out of the shadows, passing over the others because it was guided by God himself to set her right for the mistakes and the lies and the deceptions to keep things running smoothly when she should have just told everything the way it really was. Every step was an exercise in agony and shame. She felt that this was all arranged as some ceremony of punishment for her. She could feel the sharp puncture of vampire teeth, rigid with little channels for routing the blood into the creatures’ mouths. She could picture them crawling over her and ripping her flesh apart and making her suffer instead of the old passionate, erotic kiss that she knew from her masters in the old world. She could taste the bitter blood that was her own dripping from her own veins as God watched, giving her her purgatory even before her death.

Doc knew what the others felt and he felt it too. It was there, the stench of death that sat in the hunter’s trap. He could smell it so acutely he could taste the acrid scent as if a dead body were at his feet. He knew the feelings that the darkness could create, especially when the darkness was accompanied by the presence of the damned. He wished that he did not know what was about to happen, but it was too much of a coincidence to believe otherwise. He could feel the churning in his stomach and even though he trusted James, he was unsure of their chances. He was not used to vampires taking so many chances with their unlife. Maybe there was a side to them that he had not seen. He was used to them taking every precaution and even though he only saw daylight when staking the undead, he knew that side of the coin very well from practicing it himself.

James saw the light touch the bottom and then his feet clicked on the floor. It was a bit of a relief, and yet a lot more of a weight. He scanned overhead and traced the pipes and ducts with his guns. He started tracing the walls and Brick was scanning for anything that might be a breaker box or power panel. They started walking in a deliberate path that would allow them the advantage on most of the alcoves. They were all on edge by that time.

Brick’s light flashed on a gray panel hanging on the wall and he went to work. As he fumbled, flashlight in one hand and the other darting across breaker switches, he said, “You know, I find it really hard to believe that I’m the only one with a flashlight.”

James had already traded in the Glocks for a shotgun and a Mag-Lite. “No, I just liked the idea of two guns better than one.” Anya and Doc waited patiently.

Doc was listening and waiting. He was using his honed instincts from the years when he was the one wielding the firepower. He watched vigilantly as the shadows seemed to move. Then a loud snap and a burst of light destroyed what night vision he had. Brick was thrown back and hit James, “Mother fucker!” He shouted as he sucked his fingers. The panel had shocked him and everything had blown. Now they had no choice but to go up to Jessica’s apartment in the dark, just as the night crawlers had intended.

James motioned back to the stairs and then the squeaking started. First one, then several and then it seemed there were dozens. Both James and Brick illuminated the floor to discover a horde of rats covering the floor between them and the stairway. James fired a shotgun blast and several of the rats splattered and the others scattered from the bloody circle left on the floor. They ran through the path that was left and made the stairs easy enough. In seconds they were all in the dim light atop the stairwell. Doc looked at James, “I guess that was the welcoming party.”

James glared at no one in particular, “Then I can’t wait to see the guest list. Let’s get this over with.”

Doc took a small globe out of his pocket and screwed it into the top of his cane. It began to glow. They started toward the stairs. James watched their backs and Brick was beside Doc in the front. Anya stayed in the middle, she felt useless and weak despite her agelessness. She wished there was something she knew how to do besides make arrangements and deal with the finances. Once through the door to the stairway, it seemed as though the staircases were leading into the depth of the night instead of toward the top of a city building.

They started the slow ascent and every shadow was a demon ready to leap out at them. The same fears that had manifested as they walked down into the basement came back and despite the fact that they were together, each was alone with their own devils. Fear was growing and anticipation only fed the wicked tree that seemed to be rooting itself into their hearts. Brick could feel the others’ anxiety and it made his far worse. He wondered if there was any chance in hell that they might survive.

They made it to the floor where Jessica’s apartment was without as much as a creaking stair. They opened the door and the madness seemed to begin. The place was littered with doors that had been torn to shreds and several dead bodies littered the hall. One woman hung upside down, her throat ripped open and blood pooled beneath her on the carpet. Dangling around one leg was a sign that read, “Count your nights, for they are numbered. Each step you take is one closer to the grave. You live by my leave, now, hunters.” James took the lead to get a good look at the sign.

Brick looked at James with a question that did not have to be spoken.

“I don’t think we’re going to get out of this alive.” Anya said under her breath.

Something scurried across the ceiling and down a wall and then around the corner at the end of the hall. James turned toward it reflexively and saw the last of strangely bent legs moving along the floor and out of sight as his light caught the corner. Then, there was an eerie silence as the others began to look around for the presences that they might not be able to hear. It was becoming clear that despite the number of vampire whelps they had killed between them, they knew nothing of those creatures of the night that truly ruled it.

James turned back toward Jessica’s room, “Let’s go, I don’t feel like spending any more time here than I absolutely have to.”

Brick nodded, “Fucking ay, man.”

They moved slowly toward the door that opened into Jessica’s apartment and turned into it just as carefully. The place was a mess. It looked like someone had loosed tigers and gorillas on the small, cramped place. James shook his head when he saw the blood. It was everywhere; too much to be from one person, too much for six. Brick felt his stomach wrenching as the smell of iron and gore wafted to his nostrils. “How the hell do they do it man, how do they eat that shit?”

Doc looked thoughtfully at the young hunter, “They have to, just like you eat beef, pork and lettuce. That’s why they think they can get away with treating us the way they do. We’re cattle to them.”

James walked around, his shoes leaving imprints in the blood soaked carpet. He looked over a few odds and ends and gazed at a couple of pictures. “She’s not here, even if she’s alive, she’s not here.”

Anya put her hand over her mouth and looked down at her feet. “What the hell are they thinking? They know that they’ll get found out if they do shit like this.”

Brick replied, “Not if they have their claws in Wall Street, the cops and the mayor’s office. It’ll all disappear like all that Al Capone shit in Chicago. They never could keep that guy down, you know.”

Doc nodded, “All the more reason to not become a casualty in this war. We should be on our way.” He turned to leave and then yelped. James had his shotgun over Doc’s shoulder in an instant and he saw the thing that had scurried through the hallway. It was a woman with her knees bent backwards like an insect. Her hair was black and her lips were stained crimson with blood. Her features were undeniably Asian. After another second he was sure it was the woman from the garage.

She leapt and James shoved Doc out of the way, dropping his flashlight and shooting flame at the soaring, naked, blood covered bitch. The gout of flame engulfed her and she roared in agony. Then she clawed James’ chest and bounded between Brick and Anya. Doc was already firing with his cane, it was a gun too. The woman took five slugs and the burns were already healing. She glared with a wild madness and her fangs and claws glinted in layers of maroon and crimson and shades of red and purple. Her naked body glistened even as the next five rounds left slightly bleeding divots in her flesh that healed as if they were not even there in seconds.

Brick threw a chair at her and she batted it away, shards flying. James pulled out his Glocks and began aiming for the vampire’s head. It was impossible, Brick thought, the way she could ignore all those holes in her flesh. The side of her head was being eaten away and the back of her skull was gone. Gray and red were left in trails behind her and bone splinters shone where the light fell from the windows and from Doc’s cane-gun blasts. She started walking toward James and then Anya grabbed a shard of the chair that had fallen to the gore splattered ground before her and thrust with all her strength from behind the vampire and the wood protruded from the front of her chest, piercing the creature’s left breast and blood poured in rivulets from the ripped wound in the cold, white, blood splattered flesh. It was like marble with red swirls instead of black and gray. The vampire looked down at her ruined body and the aggression faded into a look of agony and disbelief. She fell to the floor and then Doc was pounding the stake into the floorboards.

James looked at Brick and then to Anya, “Get the hell outta here.”

As the others ran, James fumbled for his flashlight. He saw the Asian woman moving in a jerking, twitching spasm and noticed her hand moving toward her chest. He reloaded with regular shots. He was lightning fast and then the arm was severed and shredded at the elbow. He took the other one off at the shoulder and then kicked the still moving limbs across the room. He pulled out his bowie knife and hacked off the head with a bone rending crunch. He then reloaded his shotgun with a flame round and set everything to fire. The furniture caught and by the time he was down the hall, the place was a raging inferno.

He could hear the limbs scrambling back to their master under the screams of the decapitated head as he pulled the door to the stairwell shut behind him. Then, he seemed to black out until he was on the street again. He wiped the blood from his face and hunched over to catch his breath. He could not remember the last time he ran so hard.

He stood and walked to the Impala with perfect deliberation and the others looked on in awe as the one true hunter in the group came towards them. Anya wanted to ask but could not. Doc did, “What happened back there?”

James shook his head, “I cut off her head, I shot off her arms, I set fire to the place and she’s still fucking alive. She’s still fucking alive.” The ligaments in his neck stood out as he stressed the last.

Brick looked at him in disbelief, “What the hell do you mean? They can’t survive all that shit, they can’t, can they?”

James looked down, “She was still screaming when I came down the stairs. I don’t know what the fuck she is, but she isn’t like any of the ones I’ve seen.”

Brick shrugged, “Maybe she’s got to be staked, beheaded, burnt with garlic in her mouth and doused in Holy Water.”

James shook his head, “I don’t know.” He turned to look as the flames caught some gas and windows exploded. “Let’s get the fuck out of here.” He began to think about Jessica. He barely even knew her and she was already suffering from knowing him. He knew it had been a bad idea. He wished things could have been different; different from the very beginning.

He screamed toward the explosion, “I’ll get you, you little bitch, if I have to drag your godforsaken soul into the daylight myself. I’ll show you what it means to be from the land of the rising sun, if I have to strap your tight little undead ass to a board and float you into the sunrise, if it costs my soul, I’ll see to it that you and I both get a long deserved sun tan. You hear me, you fucking bitch. Your ass is mine.” Then he got in the car and slammed the door. As soon as the others were in, he was gone.

Next Chapter: Night 5