Fallen Blood (23 page)

Brian followed Bobby back to the truck and retrieved another box filled with an IV. He heard the radio squawk that the upstairs were clear, just as he began to chug the now open IV.

"Brian, it's clear." Tom's voice came over the radio, and the pain in Brian's head subsided as he finished the IV. He paused for a moment to feel the strength flow through his body, and a sense of peace wash over him.

"Shall we proceed?" Came the radio.

Brian wished he could just stand there out of sight behind Bobby's big rig, and just soak in the feeling of peace and completeness. He hadn't drank this much blood since the hunger had first taken him back in his early teens. Then the chaos of fear and self-loathing mixed with his insatiable thirst caused anything but a sense of peace when he fed. Today, however, it was like putting cool balm ointment over his aching head.

"Brian?" The radio chirped again.

But all good things had to come to an end. "Yes." He spoke into the radio and tried licking the IV bag clean

"Shall we proceed?" The radio asked.

"Yeah. Go ahead."

"Acknowledged."

Well, it looked as if fun and games were over. He had better get in there while he was still feeling all refreshed. Walking back to the driver's side, he patted on the door twice as he walked by, then turned and headed toward the old house.

Tom was standing at the top of the stairs when he got there, chatting to his squad leader as Brian approached.

"All clear," he said when the transmission stopped.

"Are you sure?"

Tom nodded in response. How could that be? The agents had come from downstairs when Brian had been here last. They had to have missed something.

"Come on." Brian waved as he headed down the stairway, pausing as he got to the landing. A shiver ran down his spine as he passed through the point he had been unable to in his traveling form. The sound of men chattering could be heard as he turned on the landing and continued to the cement floor cellar. The place looked as any small cellar would that had been abandoned for some time. Garbage littered the floor as well as old wooden shelves that lined the walls of the place. Here and there old hanging light bulbs hung broken from the ceiling. All the squads were down here standing around talking among themselves as he entered the place with Tom in tow.

"Looks like it's a bust." The sergeant said as he walked to Tom and Brian. "Wrong address, maybe?"

"Did anyone check the walls for secret passages?" Brian interjected.

"I don't think there would be any in here. " Alex responded.

"Well, check them
anyway
." Brian all but shouted. The man nodded and walked back to his squads and gave the order. Brian couldn't believe there was nothing here. There had to be. Why else couldn't he walk down here in his travel form? Why did he end up here whenever he looked for Heather's parents or Chuck? He was certain that the men in black had come up the stairs. He remembered hearing their footsteps as they ran up it. Everything said they were here. Officers began to walk around, smacking the walls with the butt of their assault rifles. Brian could tell their hearts weren't really in it as they were disorganized and halfheartedly checking as they walked. It only took a few minutes before they came back with the same response. Nothing.

Brian walked up to the closest officer and took his rifle. He walked to the closest wall himself and began to bang on the wall. It sounded solid throughout the basement he went, smashing the rifle butt into ever nook and cranny he could find, until he had done a complete circuit of the rooms interior. Just like his minions, he had found nothing but solid wall. He stopped and considered what his next options should be.

"Lieutenant?" Alex asked Tom.

"Give it a second, Sergeant." Alex nodded.

Brian could hear all the officers around him mumbling to themselves. He could feel his control over them all slipping again, even though he had just eaten another IV. Apparently that had diminishing returns, he thought.
Now what?
Over a dozen heavily armed men stood around him and no where to go with them. With no idea how much longer he could control them, or how much they would remember.

"Alright, lets file out." Tom said without his consent. "Group two and four take the point. Group one and three and five bring up the rear."

The men ordered up as they were told, the strain Brian had felt building lessened a bit. It made him realize that his control was stronger when they were actually doing something they had been told to do, while the reverse was true as well. Them just standing around talking among themselves must have been allowing them to argue about the orders they had been given being bad he figured. The first groups headed up the stairs and Tom waved for him to follow. He didn't want to leave yet, but what else was there for him to do? He shrugged and began to follow Tom up to the landing.

"Don't worry about it." Tom put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "We'll get them." He smiled.

As they turned back up the stairs, Brian felt that strange shiver run up his spine when he passed through that same spot again. He stopped and started looking around at the ground and floor. searching for anything that could explain what he was feeling or experiencing. The men that were taking up the rear relaxed and began to grumble among themselves. The pain in his skull began to increase.
What is wrong with these guys,
h
e wondered.
Do they do this on normal raids? Or is it just because I'm messing with their heads?

He looked up at the ceiling in one last desperate attempt to find something before his men began to mutiny, and noticed some sort of strange symbol on the ceiling. It was written in red, and it looked like two large 'S's, but there were two lines that ran through them binding the 'S's together.

"What's that?" He pointed at the ceiling to Tom.

The lieutenant looked up at the ceiling and shook his head. "Looks like some sort of gang symbol to me."

"Maybe? But what if it's blood?"

"Blood? What would agents be using blood for?" Tom sounded incredulous.

A loud click sound came from behind them, something about it was familiar, but Brian didn't have time to think about it, as gunfire began to erupt behind them, Men screamed as automatic fire began to fire as well. But above it all came a loud guttural snarl of a voice.

"Couldn't leave well enough alone could you?"

Brian spun in place, just as a huge clawed hand crashed into his chest sending him flying over the railing and smashing into the hard cement floor. Stars filled his eyes as he looked back up and watched as the werewolf ripped off Tom's head with one clawed hand, and threw another officer back down into the basement to Brian with the other. It was then that Brian noted that several of his men were recovering on the floor around him. From what looked like a door on the landing behind them, agents were emerging onto it and were shooting his men indiscriminately. The werewolf had apparently lunged through the back groups flinging them to the sides in an attempt to get to Brian. That would explain why so many of them were here with him. Now, however, it was distracted by the forward teams that were firing into it, while the agents were trying to mop the place up.

The surprise attack would have worked perfectly if Brian's men hadn't put every scrap of body armor they could find at the station on. Because of that, it was only moment's before they began to return fire. If the agents did have armor on, it wasn't very good. The entire room filled with the roar of gunfire. Agents fell almost as fast as they poured out of their cubby-hole. It didn't take long for them to realize that they were pinned down trying to come out of it, and resorted to using it for cover as the battle progressed. The werewolf had disappeared up the flight of stairs, Brian assumed in pursuit of squad two and four, as he could hear automatic fire and screams coming from up there as well.

"We're running low on ammo!" Alex shouted to him. "We're going to need to make a move now!"

Brian nodded to the sergeant, not knowing what else to do. The smell of blood was beginning to fill the room, and with it, Brian could feel the bloodlust increase. A loud bang and flash announced the explosion of a stun grenade in the midst of the agents. What was left of squads one, three and five, moved up to secure the new doorway. From Brian's perspective they seemed to be doing a good job until a loud roar announced the return of the werewolf. For their part, all three squads turned and fired without hesitation. Less trained men would have fled at the sight of the thing's size and fury, if not just for the fact it was right out of some sick movie. Any normal beast would have been cut to ribbons by the sheer firepower that hit it. But not unlike the werewolves of myth, this one seemed to not care about the men's weapons. Before Brian could react, two of his men were already down.

Reaching into his belt, Brian pulled the long silver hairpin where it had been braced, right along with the silver forks. and raced at his target. Without pausing, he thrust the pin into its side as deep as he could. The resulting howl seemed to indicate its effectiveness. Brian grasped the head of the pin preparing to pull it out and stab again, but the large Lycan turned and backhanded him off his feet, sending him spiraling back deeper into the basement. With a howl, the beast lunged off of the stairway and approached Brian, pulling the offending pin from his side and staring at it, before flinging it away.

"So, Edward. We meet again." The thing bared its fangs and brought its snout close to sniff at him.

Reaching for a fork Brian attempted to slice the things nose without success.

"You have more toys? Do you think you can kill me with silverware?" A hoarse laugh erupted from the Lycan. Brian noted that several officers were getting back to their feet behind the Lycan. He knew there weapons would be of no use, but maybe if they could distract the beast...

"You have broken many laws, Edward, so it is not mine to punish you. Yet, I still owe you a clawing."

Brian stood back up preparing to rush the huge Werewolf the moment his men acted. His body tensed, and he could feel his heart racing as they took aim. Several shots fired, and the three men fell to the ground, spraying blood, as agents came out of the doorway behind him. The shock of their death caused Brian to miss his chance to attack as the Lycan looked over his shoulder.

"Good. Come and take him." He pointed to Brian. Two of the agents walked over and grabbed an arm while the second watched. "But first, my promise." The werewolf said, as it struck Brian in the chest with its claws and raked his entire chest away, exposing bone and lung. The shock and pain caused Brian to buckle and fall to the ground with such force that both agents lost their grip on him.

"The Clawing you deserved from our last encounter, Vampire," it hissed into his ear. The pain was something that Brian would have thought was impossible. The fact that he was still alive and thinking was another impossibility, and yet, even now he could see skin and flesh slowly sliding together and closing his gaping chest. He felt weakness and hunger rising up from behind the pain that was quickly beginning to steal his consciousness and send him spiraling into darkness,

"
Brian
!" he heard a woman scream.

Lifting his eyes back up to the stairway, he could see Heather standing there, both hands against her cheeks as she screamed his name again. Bobby appeared next to her side, a police assault rifle in his hands.

"What's this?" The werewolf turned and sniffed the air. "My quarry arrives on its own," it snarled, and Brian could see its body tense, about to pounce once more.

"Heather, get your butt outta the way." Bobby grabbed her and shoved her back out of sight behind him. The werewolf, however, was slowly moving back to the stairway.

"Run, my little one." It growled, "mustn't make the hunt too easy," then it snickered to itself.

"Ah hell..." Bobby spit, then opened fire on the Lycan as it hopped to the first landing.

All three agents had paused to observe what was going on, and Brian could still hear Heather screaming from upstairs.

Why doesn't she run?
He thought. What the hell was she doing there anyway? He'd told the two of them to stay in the truck. Now all three of them were most likely dead. The Lycan had reached the slowly retreating Bobby near the top of the steps. The assault rifle fell silent as it arrived, whether out of ammo or jammed Brian didn't know. He watched as Bobby tried in vain to hit the werewolf with the butt of the rifle, only to have his entire head engulfed by the razor taloned hand. Brian was sure the thing was about to simply twist or rip the old truckers head from his body. Instead it simply tossed him to the side, intent only on his original prey, Heather.