C.O.T.V.H. (Book 3): Extermination (11 page)

From your father’s fangs . . .
“I don’t know Pam.  It’s all one big blur.”

“Well like I said, you’re very lucky.”

“Yeah . . . well, I guess that’s me all around.  Everyone else gets killed and I come out with a few scratches.  Story of my life.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, Jake,” she said preparing a fresh compression dressing.  “Bad things happen to good people.  That’s just the life you lead, the life your dad led.”

Jake winced as she wrapped the fresh dressing tightly around his chest and shoulder.  “You were, ugh . . . you were telling me about Dad saving your life.”

Pam finished wrapping him up and then started cleaning up what little mess she’d made.  “It was about two, maybe two and half years ago.  You were off training at the Ranch, and I . . . I was in a very bad relationship.  His name was Tank Russell.  I'm sure you've heard of him.”

"Tank Russell?" Jake said lying back in bed.  "Sounds familiar, isn't he a hunter?"

"Yeah, he runs with Turner’s group.  Big burly guy,” she sighed.  “I should have known better than to date a Hunter.  I'd always made a rule of it after . . .”

“After you and dad,” Jake finished for her.

She smiled, “I didn’t know if he’d ever told you or not.”

Jake nodded, rubbing his eyes with his thumb and forefinger, “He told me.”

“Well, I was pissed at Billy for some reason or another and wanted to get back at him.  I couldn’t think of a better way than hooking up with a hunter," she paused, her eyes drifting off to some distant memory.  "Well, long story short it got real bad real fast and I couldn't get away from this guy, no matter what I tried he wouldn't leave me alone.  I had restraining orders put out on him, but of course they didn’t do any good.  Nothing stopped him and I was too ashamed to go to my dad with it.  Plus I knew Billy would have killed him.  Well, one night after a long shift at the ER, I came home and just passed out on my couch.  I didn't notice the shattered window in my kitchen.  He was hiding in the house."  Pam paused wiping a tear from her eye on her sleeve.

Man you Williams’ women sure can pick them,
Jake thought, but didn’t dare say.

"I guess a vampire Hunter would know better than anyone where the good spots to hide in the house are,” she paused again.  “When I woke up he was standing over me, just . . . watching me sleep.  I screamed but he wrapped his hands tightly over my mouth.  He . . . uh . . . he beat me . . . bad.  Broke my left arm, my right wrist, four ribs. I just barely made it to the phone and dialed 911 before I passed out.  When I woke up in the hospital I was terrified.  I gave the cops my story but I knew they wouldn’t do much.  He’d get maybe a few days in jail, before one of his buddies bailed him out.  So I called the one person I knew could help.  John Bishop.  

Later that night, him and Cort came to see me in the hospital.  John told me I should have told him sooner.  He'd always been like a big part of my life, but after Terry died and Julia disappeared, we just kind of drifted apart.  After he got back in the game and then got you involved I really didn’t want to talk to him at all.  Well anyway, John told me he'd take care of it.”

Jake smiled sadly, thinking back to his dad’s smiling face.  Just as quickly it transformed into that monstrous, twisted grunt face.  Jake closed his eyes tight trying to block it out. “Jake, you okay?”  Pam asked.  “Are the pain meds not working?”

“No.  I’m fine,” Jake lied.  “Please.  Finish your story.”

“Well . . . John tracked Tank down to some biker bar on the outskirts of town.  From what I heard Tank pulled a knife but it didn’t do him any good.  John beat him nearly to death, broke one of his arms, both his wrists, his jaw, knocked out most of his teeth, and broke six of his ribs.  He told him it was an eye for an eye and that if he ever came near me again he’d kill him.  Needless to say I never heard from him again." She dropped into the chair next to Jake’s bed and put her head in her hands.  “I never told him how much he meant to me.”  Tears flowed freely down her cheeks.  She wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her purple and gold scrub top.

“It’s okay Pam,” Jake said, trying to comfort her.

"I was just so stupid!  I knew better than to get involved with Tank, but I was so angry.  I just lashed out.  I shouldn't have blamed Billy for
my
problems.  We've just never gotten along and it only got worse after Terry was killed.” 

She took a deep breath, wiping the last of her tears away.  “I was
very
lucky that John was there when I needed a good friend.  If not I’d probably be dead right now.  Now he’s gone, just like Julia, and just like Terry and Donnie.  So much death . . . so much pain, and for what?  It will never stop Jake.  You have to understand that.  That’s something I’ve
never
been able to convince my dad of.  The monsters will never stop coming.”

“I know Pam, but Dad
did
try to get away.  He really did.  They just waited until his guard was down to strike.  You can’t run from them.”

“Yeah, well . . .” she sniffed, “at least Billy finally got Sandra and Amber out of danger.  I’m just sorry it cost Donnie his life for him to see it.  I need to call him, I just haven’t been able to bring myself to do it!"

They both sat in silence for a few seconds thinking things over.  
She's going to hate me.  They’re all going to hate me.  How will Amber ever forgive me?  I have to tell her.
  "Pam," Jake said, his voice cracking with emotion.

"Yes Jake?"

"When's the last time you talked to Billy?"

"Not since Donnie died.  Why do you ask?"

Tears came pouring down his cheeks that had nothing to do with the pain from his wounds.  "Pam, I'm so sorry."

"Why Jake?  What's wrong?" she rose and sat down on the bed next to him and held his hand.

"Pam . . . your dad's dead.  I'm so sorry but . . . Billy's dead."

Pam's hand went up to her mouth.  She let go of his hand, then stood and took several steps back from the bed.  "What?  What do you mean Billy's dead?  Why would you say something like that?"

"He was in the house when I . . . he was the grunt I killed in Patricia.  There were two little girls in the house, but they weren't really little girls and it was all so chaotic and confusing . . . Pam I'm sorry but I killed your dad."

“I don’t understand . . . how . . . why was he there?  This doesn’t make sense.”  She sat back down in the chair, unable to meet Jake’s eyes.  "Does Sandra know?" she asked, closing her eyes tight.

"I don't know.  Pam . . . I'm so, so sorry."

She wiped her eyes and Jake could see her try to revert back to Doctor mode. "So, how's your pain?"

"Pam . . ." Jake started to say.

She held up her hand.  "No!” she said, her voice shaking with rage.  “No!  Not right now.  Jake, not right now."

Jake repositioned himself nervously, "Uh . . . I'm okay, I guess." 

"Good.  We'll need to keep you . . ." she didn't finish her sentence.  Cort burst through the bedroom door with Talon Parker right behind him.

"We've got to go!"  Cort was saying, “We have to move Jake
now!”

Pam let out a deep angry breath, "Cort, I told you this before, Jake can't be moved."

"No choice.  Pam you better get out of here too.  Anderson called in.  It’s bad, worst case scenario.  Pam, you’ve got to get out of town.  Talon, go with her, we’ll all meet up in Hometown in a few days."

"Cort would you step out into the hall for a moment," Pam said, rising to her feet and grabbing a hold of Cort's arm, digging her nails into his skin and practically dragging him into the hall.  Jake could just make out her voice.  "Why didn't you tell me!" she was yelling.

"Pam, I'm sorry but we don't have time for this."

"Don't have time?  Don't have time!  How about the seven hours that I’ve been here!  That would have been a great time to tell me!  My dad is dead and you couldn't even bother to tell me!  You sick, twisted bastard!  What did you think, that I wouldn’t help Jake if I knew the truth?!”

"Hello, Jake," Talon said, pretending to ignore their conversation.  "How are you feeling?"

"Hey Talon,” Jake said, uncomfortably.  “I'm hanging in there." 

Talon nodded, listening to Cort and Pam go back and forth.   “How's Whisper and Diana doing?"  Jake asked.

"They are doing well.  I sent them ahead of me to Hometown.  As soon as you’re ready to travel we will join them there."

"Good.  That's good."  Jake stared at the IV in his arm.  “It will be nice to see them again.”

“John’s turned, Pam!” Cort yelled from the hallway.  “Don’t you understand what that means?!”

“I hope you burn in hell, Cort.  I really do.  You and Billy and your goddamn war has brought nothing but pain to everyone around you!  And now he’s paid the price for it and so has John!  And that boy in there, you turned him into a . . . a . . . murderer!”

“Don’t you dare say that!”  Cort yelled back.  “What was left of Billy was nothing but a monster, Pam!  He was already gone!”

“I’m done with you Cort, with all of you Hunters.  I’m going home and am going to pretend I never met any of you!  You and Talon and Ben and the rest of you can all go straight to hell!  I’m done!”

“If you do that you’ll die, Pam.  As sure I am standing here right now, you’ll die.  You have to get out of the state, out of the territory.  The only safe place is across the river.”

“You mean the same river that I begged all of you to cross at least a hundred times?  That river?” she screamed at the top of her lungs.

“Pam . . .” Cort begged, “please.”

“Goodbye Cort,” Pam sobbed.  “You stupid son of a bitch.  I hope when John turns you that you and your son will be very happy together,” she sobbed again, the pain in her voice ripping a great big hole in Jake’s already broken heart. 

Her voice softened to the point Jake had to strain to hear it.  “The least you can do is give your grandson a fighting chance,” she said.  “Get him out of this shit, Cort.  For the sake of whatever is left of your soul, get him out before he murders someone else’s father.”

Jake heard her footsteps echo down the hall then the front door slammed shut hard enough to rattle pictures on the wall.

Cort stepped back into the room his face completely pale.  “Talon, please, follow her home.  Keep an eye on her for at least tonight.”

“You’ve got it, Cort.”  Talon nodded.  “I’ve got my cell phone on me, call me if you need anything.”

"What the hell is going on?" Jake asked his voice filled with emotion. "Dad’s still ‘alive’?" 

"Later, later," Cort said moving to lift Jake from the bed.  "Right now we've got to get you into the truck."

“Screw that!”  Jake winced as he jerked his arm away from him.  “Stop treating me with kid gloves.  Tell me the truth.”

Cort sighed, “I had Henry Anderson check out the farmhouse.  John and Pearl’s bodies weren’t there.”

“But that means . . .” Jake stammered.

“It means that there’s a good possibility they are already on their way here,” Talon finished for him.

A sharp violent pain ran through the back of Jake’s head.  He grabbed it with both hands yelling out in pain.

“Jake!” he heard his grandfather’s voice call out, then there was only darkness.

Chapter 7

Jake

Somewhere in Eastern New Mexico

September 10, 2001 10:30pm

Jake awoke strapped into the front seat of his father’s truck.  In his lap sat a framed picture of himself with both of his parents taken not long before his mother’s disappearance. 
Mom . . . Dad . . . I’ve lost you both.
He stared hard at the picture, burning the image into his brain.  The excruciating pain from the wounds in his chest was dull in comparison to knowing he was now an orphan.  That coupled with the guilt over killing Billy was almost too much to bear.  “Where are we?” he muttered groggily.

Cort nearly leapt out of his seat.  “You’re awake!” he said wiping his eyes.  “Thank God.  I was afraid I’d lost you too.”

“No,” Jake said sadly, “everyone else gets to die while I miraculously live on.”

“I’m sorry about what Pam said Jake.  She didn’t mean it, not really.  She’s just upset.”

“She meant it,” Jake stated flatly.  “And honestly, who can blame her?  I did murder her father.”

“You killed a grunt, end of story.”  Cort reached into a small bag sitting between them and pulled out a prescription pill bottle. "Take that," he handed the bottle to Jake. "Pam said it should help with the pain."

"Grandpa, where are we going?" Jake asked.  He popped the cap and put two little white pills in his mouth swallowing them dry.

"I'll tell you son, just not right now.  Let me get out of Dodge then I'll fill you in. Okay?  Right now I can only handle one thing at a time.  It's taking all I've got just to keep it together."

You’re having a hard time keeping it together?
  Jake wanted to scream. 
I’m the one that’s dying!  I’m the one that had to cut Billy’s head off!  I’m the one that splattered Dad’s head like a damn watermelon! 
Jake took a deep breath and for the first time saw how bad his grandpa looked.  His gray hair, which was always kept combed back, hung loosely over his wrinkled forehead.  His cheek was filled with an overly large wad of chewing tobacco.  A black and silver flask of what the old man referred to as “holy water” sat open and empty on the dash.  Jake had never even seen him openly drink from it before.  It was always a bit of a novelty, a joke among family and friends that he carried it in case of an “emergency”.

Cort put his hand on Jake's shoulder gripping it tightly almost knowing what his grandson was thinking.  "I’m all right boy.  It’s just been one hellaciously terrible day.”

Jake lowered his head gripping the picture tightly.  His heart swam in guilt.  "It's all my fault.  I should have known better.  I should have told you about the little girls.  I should have recognized Billy, it's just, it was so dark in there and I was so amped up and just . . . scared."