Scary Dead Things - 02 (38 page)

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Authors: Rick Gualtieri

BOOK: Scary Dead Things - 02
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Bang had other ideas, though. Despite his injuries, he still managed to catch me by the wrist before I could do more than prick his skin with the knife. I put my other hand on top of my right and started bearing down. Vampiric strength is a badass thing; however, it doesn't mean much if the person you're fighting has it, too, except multiplied by several times. I couldn't budge him. In fact, the fucker had the nerve to start smiling at me. He said something glib sounding in that gibberish Chinese of his. I didn't need to understand him to know I had just been burned.

 

“Oh yeah? Your boss is James T. Kirk's bitch!” I lamely spat back. If he had spoken English...and had a working knowledge of the dorkier aspects of American pop culture...it would have been pretty damn insulting, believe me.

 

I heard noises behind me. I turned my head to check. Nergui had once again emerged onto the rooftop. Decker had regained his feet and appeared to be steeling himself for another salvo of spells. Good, they were keeping each other occupied for the moment. I was just about to turn back to Bang when movement caught my eye. It was Sally. She was actually trying...and mostly failing...to get back to her feet. Fucking crazy bitch!

 

“STAY D...” I started to yell, right before doing the opposite myself. I had stupidly allowed myself to be distracted against a vampire who, unlike me, knew what he was doing. He had gotten his other arm free, and with the added leverage, literally threw me off him. I really needed to enlist in the Army or sign myself up again for self-defense classes. Spending all of eternity being on the receiving end of shit like this did not sound like fun to me.

 

Oh, and in case you're wondering, being thrown through the air isn't a particularly fun thing either. It is considerably less fun when it involves a rooftop that happens to be a couple hundred feet above street level. A birds-eye view of what is waiting for you, one short trip at terminal velocity later, is enough to give anyone a slight case of vertigo. A vampire with a fear of heights would almost be chuckle worthy if I weren't the one it was happening to.

 

I was almost about to count my lucky stars (
and believe me, it wouldn't have been a particularly high count
) that Bang's throw was going to leave me a few feet short of the edge, when I realized I had failed to take into account the bounce factor. Ah yes, momentum. Kind of wished I hadn't blown off so many physics classes in college; otherwise, I might have remembered the whole
bodies in motion tend to stay in motion
thing. Not that it would have done me much good. Knowledge of the laws of physics doesn't necessarily mean an ability break them...at least outside of
The Matrix
(
which I was pretty sure I wasn't in, given the utter lack of leather-clad chicks named Trinity coming to my aid
).

 

I slammed down and tumbled towards the edge. The knife flew from my grip, and a barely intelligible, but highly audible, “OH SHIT!” escaped from my lips. I didn't know if a drop from this height would kill me, but it was a fair certainty that it would mess up my day in more ways than one.

 

Only one chance! As my legs slid out over the edge, I slammed my fingers down into the rooftop as hard as my vampire strength would allow and tried to dig in. Some days, I curse having been turned into a vampire; right now was not one of those times. I managed to sink them in just enough to stop myself before the bulk of my weight carried me over. I was going to be picking roofing tar out from beneath my fingernails for a month, but considering the alternative, I'd be happy to do it.

 

Unfortunately for me, the alternative was very much still a possibility. I had just barely stopped myself from going over when I looked up to see Bang standing over me. That same asshole smile was still on his face as he reared back to punt my head off.

 

* * *

 

At the speed of thought, dull anger flooded through me. I had been here before, or at least one of my old
Dungeons and Dragons
characters had. It had been a difficult campaign, fighting our way through the Accursed Pass of the Blood Mountains. Following a particularly nasty encounter with a pack of Hill Giants, my character was left with a broken leg. In game terms, this meant that the DM saddled me with a bunch of bullshit negative modifiers to all of my scores, including my speed. Afterwards, while climbing a cliff face towards our final destination, my character's injuries had slowed the party down enough so that we lost the element of surprise. The others were pissed at me. Thus, when my ranger finally reached the top of the cliff and was pulling himself up, my friend, Mike, walked his barbarian over to me and said, “Sorry, but you've become a burden,” right before kicking me in the face, sending my character plummeting to his death. Bunch of assholes! They all had a good laugh about it and even stopped on the return trip to loot my corpse. It was one of those indignities that one did not so easily forget.

 

No fucking way was I letting some shithead named Bang do the same thing to me again. He'd have to find some other sucker to loot a +3 flaming sword from...or something like that, anyway.

 

As his foot came straight at my head, I let go of my precarious grip on the rooftop and grabbed his leg with both hands. His foot still slammed into my face, but my mouth, or more precisely
my fangs
, was waiting for it.

 

I bit into the soft leather of his boot. My teeth had no problem going through the material to the flesh inside. Just for the record, at no point did it taste particularly good. I chomped down on his toes and hung on for death life. Bang started screaming and tried to back up. It was enough for one of my legs to lift over the edge and find purchase to push myself up with.

 

Bang lost his balance and fell on his back, but it also freed his other leg to kick out at me. He managed to score a glancing blow, but it was enough to make me let go. Rather than risk a repeat performance, I instead rolled out of his range.

 

He howled while he cradled his injured foot. It gave me enough time to get back to my feet. We locked eyes as I did so. The smile was gone from his face, but it was spreading on mine. I complemented the gesture by spitting out two of his toes towards him. It’s not like I was planning on swallowing them anyway. Sadly, it was mostly a psych-out maneuver. I had gotten a little of his blood from the ordeal, but it was barely enough for a quick recharge to even my normal levels. I was still way out of my league here. On the upside, though, Bang wouldn't exactly be competing on
Dancing with the Stars
anytime soon.

 

Or maybe I spoke too soon. He did a quick kip-up and was suddenly on his feet again. A few missing toes wasn't exactly a mortal wound for someone like him. Even worse, he then drew one of those silver daggers he and his buddies seemed to favor. Guess he got a lot of
bang
for his buck out of those (
I kill me!
). The grin was still gone from his face, but the look that was there made me wish that it wasn't. This time, he meant to finish the job.

 

What's a Little Murder Amongst Friends

 

 

 

I knew the staredown was a ruse. I had seen how fast vampires could move. Any second, Bang would be on me quicker than I could blink my eyes. His power, speed, and experience eclipsed mine by many times over, and he was more than aware of it. However, he still hesitated. I had given him more of a fight than he had expected so far, and apparently gave him a
lot
more than he bargained for the previous night. That was it! I was an X-factor as far as he was concerned. He wasn't entirely sure what I could do and was thus playing things a bit more cautiously than he might otherwise. Maybe I could use that.

 

I tried my best to keep a grin on my face. Best to let him think I wasn't afraid of him; however, I was, and he could probably see it my eyes...thus I put on the ol’ vamp face. I extended my fangs and claws, then I blackened my eyes (
I was starting to get pretty good at this
). Bang actually took a small step back. All vampires can do this stuff. It was pretty par for the course. However, something allowed me to take it further. I was the Freewill of vampire legend, after all. Too bad I had absolutely no fucking idea what that meant or how to control it. That moment of extreme anger I had felt earlier had passed. In its place was weariness from my wounds and a slight desire to piss myself out of the fear of getting my head lopped off; in other words, I had nothing.

 

*CLANG* or maybe not. I apparently still had one crazy ass bitch of a guardian angel. A metal grate flew out of nowhere, slamming into the back of Bang's head. Sally! I turned my head, and sure enough it had been her. Somehow she was still in the game, although just barely. The effort appeared to be all that she had in her. She attempted to give me a thumbs-up with her still very disjointed arms, but instead just fell back down. Still, if she could mount an offense in her fucked-up state, I wasn't about to let it go to waste.

 

I closed in and swung my claws. They sliced a nasty-looking furrow across Bang's chest. I repeated the action with my other hand, and he let out a grunt of pain. I needed to keep this up. If I tore into him enough, even he would go down...probably. I reared back to do it again, maybe a nice slice out of his throat would give him something to think about. However, then I just stopped. I didn't
mean
to stop. I had every intention of following through on my attack, but my body stopped responding the way I wanted it to. It was curious, but the spreading heat in my midsection gave me my first clue. I looked down to see Bang's dagger several inches deep in my stomach. Yeah, that would do it.

 

Before I could come up with a suitably clever response to being gutted, Bang backhanded me, and I went tumbling away, my blood spraying out in an arch as the knife pulled free. I finally came to a stop face-down on the rooftop. Considering the sizable hole in my stomach, it was not the most comfortable of positions to be in. It was made even less fun due to the butt of the desert eagle digging in dangerously close to where some of my insides were trying to make their way out. The gun! I was a suck shot, but it was better than nothing.

 

However, I shouldn't have been worrying about my front, my back, or even the shooting lessons I needed to take. I should have been more worried about my head. I felt rough fingers grab a handful of my hair and jerk me upright to my knees. The hand forced my chin up so that I got a pretty good look at the sky. It was partly cloudy, probably low chance of rain; however, there was high chance of my death. I saw the same dagger that had just been used to fillet me, enter into my view. Bang was slowly lowering it to my throat when a shrill shriek pierced the night.

 

* * *

 

I had heard a similar scream the night before. It was an almost animalistic battle cry in a high pitch that only a feral cat or a pre-teen girl could manage. Gan! About time she decided to join this party. Pity it was probably too late to do me any good. Oh well, I had been meaning to lose a few pounds one of these days anyway. This was one way to ensure I stopped procrastinating about it. Besides, throughout my life I had suffered from a poor body image, so maybe I wouldn't miss it all that much anyway.

 

However, I didn't feel the blade biting into me. The hand holding the knife was hesitating. I craned my eyes up as far as they would go, and I could just barely make out Bang's head. It was turned towards the direction of the scream. He hadn't been expecting Gan.

 

No time to waste! I fumbled with my right hand for the gun. My grip was slippery with blood. The first time I tried to pull it out, I rammed it straight into my wound instead.
FUCK
!! Talk about a wake up call! I need to remember in the future not to bring cold steel into contact with my intestinal tract.

 

On the second try, I got the gun free. Without thinking, I lifted it up and pointed it back over my shoulder to where I thought Bang was standing. I pulled the trigger (
Bang, meet a bigger *bang*
), and for a second there thought I had blown my own head off, so loud was the explosion. Now I know why people wear ear plugs when they go shooting. The kickback from the gun tore it from my fingers (
and almost dislocated my shoulder
). It went clattering away, still smoking from the shot I had taken. Not that I could hear the clattering. In fact, it was probably going to be a while before I could hear
anything
.

 

I flopped down again face-first onto the roof, the wound in my stomach again sending fresh waves of pain through me. Wait! I was free. Bang had let me go. Guess the shot had surprised him. Hey, maybe I even managed to wing him. I rolled over onto my back to check and saw Bang standing there above me, knife still in hand, but minus most of his head.

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