Blood Work (3 page)

I pushed past
him, widening my reach. As I’d thought, there was a girl just
around the corner. Fast, panicked gasps; heart beating a frantic,
terrified race. She was bleeding, puncture wounds in her wrist,
which was also broken from the strong grip of the vampire towering
over her. It was male, tall, lean, powerful. His heart was also
racing, but in excitement, lust, desire...
hunger
.

Shit. The mob
had finally realised what they were, what they needed to satisfy
them.

They were
young. That much I had worked out from Barry’s descriptions of
their attacks. Turned less than a month, I guessed. I didn’t have a
lot of experience with vampires that young. They’re mostly kept
within the clan, hidden away until they’d finished the
transformation from human to monster. In those first few weeks,
they’re incredibly vulnerable. Physically weak and mentally
compromised as they try to reconcile their past as normal people
with normal wants and needs, with the creature they’re becoming. At
about the same time the blood lust became overpowering, their
memories of being human faded and their psychic abilities kicked
in, leaving nothing but the predator, the insatiable hunter.
Everyone around them becomes food. That’s when they’re let out of
hiding and set upon an unsuspecting world.

This mob,
however. According to Barry they couldn’t mesmerize their prey,
were strong but not pull-limbs-from-sockets-strong, were fast but
couldn’t blur out of sight and, most importantly, hadn’t tried to
suck the blood from any of Barry’s patrons.

Until now.

While I was in
the zone, I reached further still. Feeling my way through the maze
I found six more humans—the players plus the attendant—and eleven
more vampires. An even dozen.

I came back to
myself, the music slamming in around me with an almost concussive
weight. I’d never gone up against so many vampires before. Even
young ones like these.

I needed my
partner, and I needed her now.

The girl
screamed again, her cries were twisted by pain, mixed with pleas
and promises. Yup. These vampires had finally figured out what food
would ease the ache in their bodies. Just as clearly, they hadn’t
yet mastered the art of psychically subduing said food so it didn’t
struggle, or feel pain.

I raced down
the narrow corridor, Eagle at the ready. Roberts pounded along
behind me. I didn’t slow at the corner, just barrelled around it
and snapped the gun out. Thanks to my psychic recon, I knew exactly
where the bastard would be and I snapped off a shot before he even
realised I was there.

The paintball
missed his left shoulder by a tiny margin, exploding in a splatter
of green against the wall. The vampire jerked back, probably more
in surprise than anything else. He dropped the girl he’d pinned to
the wall and she hit the floor, falling to the side with a soft
moan. Ignoring her for the moment, I trained my laser-sight on the
vampire.

In the
shifting gloom and flashing neon, I couldn’t get a good look at
him, but at a very rough guess, I figured he was no more than
eighteen years old, a surfer by the broad shoulders, trim waist,
dreads of sun-bleached hair and rock-hard abs. He wasn’t wearing a
shirt, but had on board-shorts and, I kid not, flip-flops.

His only other
adornments were a blood-splattered chin and neck, and two very long
fangs jutting down from his top jaw, adequately displayed as he
hissed at me.

I took aim and
put the next paintball in his mouth.

Smoke poured
out from between the vampire’s green smeared lips. His eyes rolled
wildly as he tried to scream but the paint had already eaten
through his tongue and throat and all that came out was a wet
gurgling. He clawed at his face, only helping the process as great
clumps of steaming flesh peeled off in his hands. Within seconds,
he hit the ground, limbs jerking in spastic motions, then he was
still.

A flash of
white light blossomed around us and I saw the remains of his
face.

I’d been
working on my garlic-Holy water mixture. Adding it to paint had
been a fun, yet trying, experience. But seeing the gaping cavern in
the front of that vampire’s head, looking right into the gooey
remains of his brains—there wasn’t much, which said something about
either the strength of my mixture or the state of the youth of
today—made the frustration worth it.

The vampire
twitched once, then with a stinky little sigh of air, deflated and
degraded into his constituent parts, oozing over the black
floor.

Neat.

Now he was the
cleaner’s problem.

And the
remaining eleven vampires were mine. Well, mine and Mercy’s. If she
ever deigned to show up.

Of course, not
everyone was as pleased with the results of my paintball as I was.
Behind me, Roberts made gagging noises and beside the puddle of
vampire-remains, the girl stared at the mess for a moment, then
took a deep breath, and screamed.

“It’s okay,” I
shouted, crouching next to her. “Look at me. Hey, look up here. Not
there, at me.”

My words got
through to her slowly and she eventually pried her shocked gaze off
the stinking ooze and met my eyes.

“You’re all
right, now.” It’s hard to sound soothing while shouting, but I did
my best and it seemed to work. “It’s dead. Come on, get up. I have
to keep going, get your friends.”

She stared at
me for a moment longer. Like the vampire, she was a teenager,
probably around fifteen or sixteen. As well as her T-shirt, shorts
and sneakers, she had on the laser-tag vest and elbow and knee
guards. At least she had more substantial shoes on her feet than
flip-flops. Then she nodded and reached for me.

One hand under
her arm, I helped her up, unwilling to put the Eagle away. I still
had my senses extended and was vaguely aware of where the other
vampires and kids were, but I didn’t want to take a chance that I
wasn’t all-knowing and all-seeing.

“Roberts!”

He was there
instantly, taking the girl from me. She curled into his side,
sobbing and shaking. I rummaged in my many pockets until I found my
small first-aid kit. Passing it back, I left Roberts to bind her
wrist while I scouted ahead.

Corridors
branched off at irregular intervals. I glanced down them, seeing
not much more than shifting smoke, spurts of laser-light and
glowing neon. The next closest vampire was a couple more turns
away.

“What now?”
Roberts asked as he caught up.

I glanced
back, saw the girl behind him, clinging to the back of his jacket.
She was trembling and wide-eyed. Roberts had roughly bound the bite
wound on her wrist, though there was a faint smudge of blood
creeping through the layers of white bandage.

“There’s six
more humans in here. Eleven vampires.”

Roberts could
do the math as well as I could. He swallowed hard, but nodded
grimly. I pulled out a spare mag and handed it over.

“Use the
paintballs if you have to. Protect the girl, and the others when I
bring them to you.”

“Where do you
want me?”

I pointed to
one of the off-shoot corridors. “It dead ends. Keep your backs to
the wall.”

“What about
Mercy?” There was a touch of doubt in his words. Roberts liked
Mercy but he didn’t exactly trust her.

“I’ll call her
right now.”

“You know you
shouldn’t have to. She should have been here already!”

I glared at
him. “Keep an eye out.”

Of all my
psychic tricks, contacting Mercy was easiest. The bond between us
was the first thing to develop when she crashed head-long into my
life, and it let us speak in that cool mind to mind way. It was
strong and snapped into line with little effort.

“
Matt!”

Ever had a
little girl squeal excitedly in your ear? Yeah? Well, make her a
little girl with the ability to scream supersonically, with a
trained singing voice that could move from the low, sultry tones of
a classy blues crooner to the powerful resonance of some uber-opera
type, and then transplant her scream from outside your head to
inside it.

See if your
legs don’t give out from under you.

“Matt! You
hit?” Roberts stared at me, sprawled on the floor at his feet.

I fumbled
about, looking for my gun, my balance and my eardrums. I managed to
haul myself upright, weapon and legs only shaking a bit. Two out of
three ain’t bad.

“Fine,” I
shouted back. “Just on the metaphysical phone.” Then to Mercy, I
thought,
“Where the freak are you?”

Her thought
came back with a slight timidity.
“Across the street, where you
told me to watch Barry’s from.”

Gah! Of
course. I
had
told her to do exactly that. I
hadn’t
told her to follow the mob of vampires into the building. Just to
watch for them. I hadn’t even told her to tell me when they
arrived.

It was my
fault. No doubt about it.

“
Good
girl,”
I sent.
“Could you now come over here and help me
with these vampires, please?”

Her mind did a
little shiver against mine, as if she was deciding whether or not
to do as I asked. The hesitation made me think of Roberts’ earlier
comments regarding her trust-worthiness, but I pushed those
thoughts aside before they reached her. She didn’t need his—or
my—doubts confusing her.

“
Okay,”
she replied and then her touch blurred and faded.

She was on the
move.

Reeling my
thoughts back in, I took a moment to nod to Roberts and motion him
into the corridor I’d chosen for him. Then I was off.

I had vague ideas as to where the
remaining humans were in the maze, so I forwent stealth for speed.
The vampires would know I was there now, anyway. They wouldn’t have
missed the death of one of their own. So as I moved, the vampires
moved as well.

Hurtling
around a corner, blinded by a flare of irritatingly pink laser, I
sensed three vampires converging on me rapidly. Two shadows leaped
out of side corridors, moving with the lithe, powerful grace of all
vampires. Very weak tendrils of psychic whammy proceeded them,
easily brushed aside as I threw myself into a skid, leaning back
and firing a wide spray of paintballs.

I won’t lie
and say it was like a scene from
Tour of Duty
, but that’s
because I was firing paintballs, not bullets, and unlike bullets,
paintballs
can
be foiled by cotton clothing. Still, enough
of the paint hit exposed vampire flesh for there to be a sudden
gush of smoke and howling loud enough to drown out the music for a
moment.

Taking the
second of distraction it got me, I scrambled to my feet and
staggered backwards, firing with the added benefit of at least
pretending to aim this time. I’d been lucky with the first vampire.
Seemed contact with the soft tissues of the mouth let the paint
work faster, because it took more than one ball to stop this pair.
They chased me like feral panthers, eyes gleaming burnished-silver
in the strange lighting, predator bright and enraged. One male, one
female, their skin sizzling in places from the paint but it didn’t
seem to be slowing them down at all.

I made sure to
take new turns, so I wouldn’t lead them right back to Roberts and
the girl. I gained a little lead, so I spun, fired, spun and ran.
As I went, I ejected the empty mag, letting it fall to the floor,
grabbed a new one and slammed it home. Sensing an attack, I hit the
floor in a clumsy roll. A dark shape sliced through the air I’d
just vacated. I fired and fired into it as it went over, rewarding
me with a pained squeal and a burst of flames on the vampire’s body
as it crashed into the wall.

Shoving out
with a boot, I stopped myself before I rolled right into the
flaming heap. Twisting, I brought the Eagle up and fired the last
ball in the mag right into the bared midriff of the female as she
launched herself at me. Green paint glowed in a burst of
black-light, then it vanished as the Holy water worked like acid on
the pale skin. Howling, the vampire performed one of those freaky,
midair turns they were so good at and, rebounding off the walls,
fled.

On my belly, I
changed mags, wished for a moment I had a gun with a greater
capacity, then fired after her. One hit the back of her right knee.
She wore tiny Daisy Dukes, leaving her legs naked. The paint ate
through skin, muscle and ligaments, effectively hobbling her. The
vampire hit the deck like the proverbial.

Once again
hauling myself to my feet, I ran to where she was trying to stand.
Calmly, methodically, I painted her until she imploded. There
wasn’t even enough left to ignite like the last bastard.

Thinking of
him let my mind comprehend the growing heat behind me. I spun,
wondering that the body was still on fire. The moment the vampire
died, it should have turned to primordial sludge, extinguishing the
flames. But no. The fire was growing, eating at the material of the
wall.

Fuck me.

Even dead,
vampires were a pain.

Orange flames,
sparking with shades of purple, blue and red from the lights,
grabbed at the flimsy wall. They crawled upward with startling
speed, spewing dark-grey smoke, clouding the already cloudy
atmosphere of the room. The acrid taste of it reached me, burning
in my mouth and nose, stinging my eyes.

I had nothing
to fight a fire with. Absolutely nothing. Well, not quite.

Half out of my
jacket, thinking I could beat at the flames with the thick
material, two things happened in very quick succession.

Firstly, and
thankfully, the games session cut out. The music died, the laser
show stopped and a mass of fluorescent tubes turned on, bathing the
area in clean, clear light. Sprinklers on the ceiling spurted once,
twice, then gushed, spraying water everywhere.