Changing of the Guard

Part Six: The Chase

Cover: A flaming monster... Brite, on fire... bursting from the wreckage of a crashed car like a phoenix and swooping down towards Jason... who is pointing a very inadequate-looking gun at Brite's flaming face.

he house's front door, and much of the wall that held it,  exploded as the enraged creature burst out into the night.   Had Jason been looking, he would've seen for the first time how massive and horrifying the thing chasing him was.   Huge wings... part bat, part something else... unfolded behind it like billowing curtains.   Tree-trunk arms ending in demonic claws reached skyward as the creature howled... not in triumph or rage... but simply because it wanted to.

Swallowed by the sound of the creature's emergence was Jason Brooks' car door slamming and the Toyota Celica's engine roaring to life.

"Outta here!"  Jason hit the accelerator.   The tires squealed and kicked up a brief shower of dirt behind the car as it shot away from the house.  "I cannot BELIEVE THIS!"  Jason shouted.   His eyes  moved frantically from the road ahead, to the rear-view mirror, to the speedometer.  Even as the needle flirted with the 100 mph mark, the car STILL wasn't anywhere near fast enough for Jason.   "You brought me out here to get eaten by this THING!"

"If you'd just shot those people when you first arrived then Brite would still be a burnt corpse on an examination table.   You hesitated.  This is what happens when you hesitate."

"You don't just BUST into people's houses and SHOOT 'EM!"

"You do in this job."

"I don't WANT this job!"

"Too late.   You've got it... and the only way out is to screw up and get killed like I did.    I don't recommend that option."

"Oh yeah?  Tell that to HIM!"

Jason nodded forwards, indicating the the rapidly growing shape in the rear-view mirror... the shape with wings and claws and fangs and a taste for human blood.  Brite was airborne, his leathery wings somehow not only sustaining his huge body in the air, but also propelling it toward the Jason's car like a some kind of supernatural missile.

"HOLD ON!"

Jason hit the brakes and yanked hard on the steering wheel.   The car spun around several times and went off the road... during one of those spins Brite sailed over the top of the vehicle, missing it entirely.

Jason hit the accelerator again, sending the car back onto the road facing in the direction he had just come.   Brite took longer to change directions, giving Jason a significant head start.

Now if only he knew where he was going... other than 'Away From Here.'

"If we can keep him on the run long enough-"  Donovan began.

"KEEP him on the run?   Hell, I coulda thought of that on my own!"

The car shot up to 120 mph and continued to accelerate.   The road made a sharp curve around a hill.   Jason didn't even bother to slow down... the car was up on two wheels for a few harrowing seconds as he took the curve.   Somewhere behind him, Brite's vampiric form fell behind... and then veered away.

"TURN AROUND!"  Donovan commanded.

"WHAT!?  WHY!"

"You've LOST him!"

"That's the IDEA!"

"We have to keep him from feeding on anyone else, REMEMBER!"

"Oh-"

KA-THUNK!

The Toyota's hood caved in as Brite's winged form landed on it.  Instead of following the car around the curve, he'd flown over the hill and met the car on the other side.

"AAAAA-!"

Instincts that Jason didn't have before last night kicked into overdrive.   His right hand reached for the gun on the passenger seat... but it wasn't there.   It had fallen onto the floor and slid under the seat!

"DAMMIT!"

Brite reached back, roared, and thrust his clawed fist through the windshield.    Jason leaned to the right as the vampire's fist shredded the driver's side headrest.

Jason thrust his hand under the seat and found the gun.

Brite ripped the top half of the driver's seat out through the windshield and tossed it away.

Jason sat up.   His foot was still on the accelerator, but all he could see through the ruined windshield was Brite!    He had no idea where the road was!

The inevitable happened... the car crashed through a guardrail at over 100 mph.

They were airborne.   Brite didn't seem to care.  He gripped the side of the car with on set of claws and tried to open Jason's chest with the other-

"GET OFF MY CAR!!!"   Jason yelled as the .44 magnum in his hand fired... seemingly of it's own volition.

Brite's roar paused as the bullet went through his skull.   The vampire went limp for an instant.  His grip relaxed and he tumbled free of the car.

Jason looked through the windshield and saw the ground coming up to meet him... trees, sharp rocks and lush green grass.    BIG sharp rocks.   And HUGE trees!

"OH SHIIII-"

"GET OUT OF THE CAR!"

For once Jason didn't question.   He opened the drivers side door and stepped out into mid air.

"OHGOOOOO-"

The fractions of a second immediately before and after the impact were mercifully blank.    One instant, Jason was looking at the grass not far below him... the next instant he was rolling down the hill.    He skidded to a halt just in time to witness what happened next.

Brite was conscious again... but that didn't stop him from slamming into a huge oak tree-

CRACK!

- living wood and undead bones shattered on impact.  Brite was already dislodging himself from the tree when Jason's car arrived.   It went through both Brite AND the tree as if they weren't even there.   The speeding car... now upside down... slid through the grass, bouncing off of rocks and trees like a giant pinball.   It took Brite along with it, smearing him across the hillside like a pat of bloody butter.

The twisted wreckage finally came to rest.   The car was upside down... the one wheel still attached to the axle was still spinning.

"Ouch,"  Jason mumbled.  "That had to hurt."

"Are you okay?"

"I just ran off of a cliff and  jumped out of a flying car!  Of COURSE I'm not okay!   My arm hurts..."

"Is it broken?"

"I dunno."

"Can you move it?"

Jason flexed and twisted his left arm.

"OUCH!   Yeah, I can move it... but-"

"It's not broken then.   Anything else?"

"My neck hurts.  Hell... EVERYTHING hurts!"

"Stop whining and get up."

"Screw you,"  said Jason as he tried to get to his feet.   He lost his balance and ended up on his hands and knees.   That was when he noticed that he was still holding the .44 magnum in his right hand.

"Great.  Even half dead, I'm still holding on to this thing."

"Affinity has been known to function even when-"

"Oh, shut up."

Jason sat back down in the grass and waited for his head to clear.   He gazed at his wrecked Toyota.

"Damn.   Well... at least we got him.   Scratch one vampire."

"He's probably not dead."

"Bullshit.  He's dead-"

CRRRRUNK!

The upside-down car suddenly tipped over onto its side.

"Uhhh... just the wreckage settling... right?"

RRRRK!

And then the car cracked in half like an egg... torn asunder by Brite the vampire, who was rising from the wreckage like a phoenix.

"RRROOOOOOOOAAAAAA-"

"Oh, puh-LEASE!"

Jason raised the pistol and fired one round.  The bullet richocheted off of a nearby rock... which happened to be coated with gasoline from the car's ruptured gas tank.

The stream of trickling gas ignited from the spark... and a second later-

FA-BOOOM!

The wrecked car became a roiling fireball.    The explosion launched hunks of burning shrapnel in all directions.

"Like I SAID... scratch one vampire."

THOOM!

A flaming shape burst from the burning car and shot into the air... carried by wings of fire.

Brite, seemingly oblivious to the fact that he was aflame, hung in the air for a second... and then soared towards Jason like a diving hawk.

Jason threw himself to the ground.  Brite sailed over him... missing him by inches.   He came so close that the flames from his body set the dry grass on fire.

"WHOOOAAA!"   Jason rolled out of the patch of burning grass.    He jumped to his feet-

"GET DOWN!"

He threw himself back to the ground-

FWOOOM!!

and Brite missed him by an even smaller margin.

"DAMMIT, I'm TIRED of this!"

Acting on reflex, Jason rolled over onto his back and raised the weapon.  Brite soared into the air... turned... and dove for him again with flaming wings spread wide-

Jason's eyes narrowed... they focused on one of the large bones that connected Brite's right wing to his grotesque body.

POW!

The gun jerked in Jason's hand.

Brite's dive suddenly turned into a chaotic spiral as one of his still-burning wings ripped halfway down the side... the supporting bone shattered by Jason's single perfect shot.    Howling in pain and anger, Brite hit the ground with a bone-cracking thud.  He bounced back into the air and proceeded to tumble town the hillside... through the trees and rocks...

"AFTER him!"  Donovan shouted.

"Yeah,  yeah."

Jason got up and limped after the flaming vampire.

There was a small brick farmhouse at the bottom of the hill.  Brite slammed into the side of the house and collapsed in a smoldering heap next to the wall.   The flames died, but his flesh was still sizzling as Jason approached.

Just then, the house's back door flew open.   A red-faced, half-dressed farmer stumbled out into the yard.  The middle-aged man had a .30-06 hunting rifle in one hand and a cordless phone in the other.

The instant he saw Jason, the phone hit the ground and the rifle came up... pointed right at Jason's head.

"Wot the HAIL is goin' on out HERE!"

"Hey, man!"  Jason backed away.   The farmer came towards him... which also took him closer to where Brite's body was already regenerating.  "Watch out for that... uhh... vampire!"

"Yew put that lil pistol down, boy!"

"Uhhh... no?"

"Yew put it down rat NOW!  I dunno wot kinna drugs you on, boy, but they sure as hail aint' gonna make yew bulletproof!   Now DROP tha gun, boy!"

"Boy?"

"Don't go gittin' uppity!   Put the gun down!"

The farmer moved closer, walking right past Brite.   He so focused on Jason that he didn't even see the vampire rising up as he passed.

"Dude,"  said Jason.  "Behind you!"

"Yew cain't fool me, boy."

"No really... BEHIND YOU!"

Perhaps it was the rustling of the grass as Brite stood... or perhaps it was the gentle crackle of the vampire's charred skin as it regenerated.   Whatever it was that got the farmer's attention, it was too late.

The man turned around and looked up into Brite's glowing eyes.   He gasped and stiffened... transfixed by the vampire's hypnotic gaze.

"You shall nourish me,"  said Brite.  "Your blood-"

"Is staying right where it is!"  Jason threw himself at the farmer.   He collided with the man and knocked him to the ground... minus the  rifle that somehow ended up in Jason's grasp.    Jason spun just as Brite was charging... the gun fired, and a small bloody hole appeared in the center of Brite's chest.

The gun fired again.    Howling in pain and rage, Brite reversed his charge and vanished around the rear of the house.

"Check the farmer,"  said Donovan.   "Check his aura."

"Looks weird... but not evil like the others."

"Brite didn't subvert him... he'll be fine.   Now get after Brite!   You can't let him get away!"

THUD!

Something heavy landed on the roof of the farm house.

Jason looked up.   He saw nothing, but he heard the heavy, rapid footsteps as Brite ran across the roof...

"He didn't go far!"

"There must be someone else inside!"

"Uh-huh"  said Jason as he ran to the back door.

There was a loud crash as Brite's claws ripped a hole in the roof and jumped down into the house.  Someone... a woman... began to scream.

Jason entered the house.  He was in the kitchen.  He could see that the living room was empty.   There was a hallway leading to the rest of the house.

And there was a box of .30-06 rounds sitting on the kitchen counter.

Jason snatched up the box a ran down the hall-

"EEEEEE!!  GET AWAY!!"

"Bedroom!"

The bedroom door was locked.   Jason kicked it in.   Brite was there, towering over a terrified middle-aged woman who was cowering in the corner.  There was a huge hole in the ceiling, and the wooden floor was cracked where he had landed.    The woman was holding a large butcher knife in her hand.   The knife had blood on it, but she didn't appear to be injured.... obviously she wasn't too terrified to defend herself, but she hadn't had any more luck killing Brite than Jason had.

Brite's head snapped around to look at Jason.

Jason put a bullet through it.

Brite stiffened, then growled as the large wound puckered and then closed... completely healed in a little over a second.

"A most interesting chase,"  Brite snarled.  "But now I grow tired of it.   And of you!"

"Speaking of growing... how come you look smaller now than you did ten minutes ago?"

It was true.   Brite's body, while still huge... was at least 50 pounds lighter than it had been when he was first resurrected.    And it appeared to be growing smaller right before Jason's eyes.   The leathery wings were folded across Brite's back... but now those wings seemed to be merging into his flesh... vanishing.    Brite's skin began to lighten from dark gray to a pale, pinkish color.   His head, formerly bald, began to sprout dark hair.

"Looks like your time's about up."

"RAAA-"

Brite leapt at the woman.   She held the puny knife before her... as if it were going to protect her from the creature.    She didn't get a chance to find out how wrong she was.

Jason's finger worked the rifle's trigger so fast that the weapon might as well have been fully automatic.   Each shot was perfect... three to the head, and the remainder of the rounds to the chest.   Any one of them would have been fatal to a normal human.

The impact of the high-powered rounds spun Brite around and knocked his significantly smaller body away from the woman.   Snarling, Brite leapt again... this time at the bedroom wall.   He demolished the wall with three slashes of his powerful claws.   Brite half stumbled, half charged into the darkness.    He was even smaller now than he had been a few seconds before.

"What's in there!"   Jason shouted.

"Garage!"   the woman replied.

A car door slammed.   A powerful engine revved.

Jason stepped through the hole in the wall.   His hands were rapidly re-loading the rifle, but Jason had no idea that they were even moving.

"What the f-"

SKREEEEE- CRASH!

A blue 1987 Camero made scrap wood out of the garage door as it pulled out onto the street.    Behind the wheel was a very human-looking, but still quite ugly vampire.

"That thing can DRIVE!?!?"   said Jason.

"He's weak.  He'll head for the nearest populated area so he can feed."

"That'll be the mall!   It's closed... but they got guards and cleaning crews there!"

"If he feeds on six or seven people he'll be unstoppable for WEEKS!   We have to catch him!"

"Catch him with WHAT!!?   We're on FOOT!"

"There's another vehicle right there!  LET'S GO!"

Jason looked at the one vehicle that remained in the garage.   The keys were hanging on a peg by the door... probably where the Camero's keys were before Brite snatched them.

"Uh-uh,"  said Jason as he eyed the truck.  "You've GOT to be kidding me!"

" think she'll be okay,"  said the doctor.   "It was just a tranquilizer.   An animal tranquilizer, in fact.  She took a heavy dose, but it isn't fatal.  She can just sleep it off."

"Thanks, doc,"  James Royce Replied.    He looked down the hall at the waiting room.    There were no cops or reporters there... probably because James hadn't called the incident in yet.    His partner had been shot, but no one knew but him.    Good.  "I need to talk to her."

"She's fading in and out of consciousness... probably not a good idea to disturb her-"

"Somebody shot her, doc.   We need to know who."

"Yes, I know... but I'm afraid I can't-"

James Royce put his hand on the doctor's shoulder.   He leaned into the doctor's face... and when he spoke, his breath carried the acrid stench of smoke and rotten eggs.

"Perhaps you didn't understand what I just said.   I Want To See Her."

Royce's hand gripped the doctor's shoulder tightly... a little TOO tightly.   The doctor would have deep purple bruises there for weeks.

"Um.   Yes.   Of course.  She's...in room 103."

"Thanks,"   James released the doctor.   The puny man walked away quickly... heading straight for the bathroom.

James cleared his throat and went to room 103.

Marilyn Dobbs was asleep... looking very peaceful.    James knew that his partner was a light sleeper.    The fact that the  beeping and whirring of the machines hadn't woke her meant that the tranquilizer must have been very strong indeed.   Royce examined the medical chart that was hanging by the foot of the bed.    He had no idea what he was looking at... but a good detective always checked everything.   And Royce was a good detective... at least he was pretending to be.  Dobbs did all the actual work, while HE just watched,  which was exactly the way it was supposed to be.

"Dobbs,"  he said.     Marilyn's eyes fluttered.   She moaned, but remained asleep.

Royce leaned down and put his face close to hers.

"Dobbs,"

"mmm... huh?"   Marilyn's eyes opened.   They were bloodshot and seemed unable to focus on anything.   "huh?   Who?"

"It's me.   Royce.   What happened?"

"...van... men in a van..."

"Jason Brooks?"

"...mmm... I... I dunno..."

"Was he there?"

"uh-huh.   Where am I?"

"Hospital."

"I feel... strange."

"Drugs.  You were hit with some kinda tranquilizer.   You'll be okay; you just gotta sleep it off."

"mmmmm...."

"I didn't call the department yet.   Nobody knows about this but us."

"Huh?  Why?"

"The chief finds out you took a hit, he's liable to take you off this case.  And since I'm your partner, I'll be off too.   We don't want that, do we?"

"NNno.  Lets... let's get outta here..."   Marilyn sat up, but a wave of dizziness put her right back down again.  "Gimme a minute."

"You take as long as you need.  I'm gonna go find this Brooks guy."

"I... I don't think he had... anything...to do with... this"

"What's that?"

"He was... surprised... I think.   H-hard to remember, exactly.  I don't... don't think he knew what was... going on."

"But he was there.   A witness, right?  PLUS there's that business with the explosion at the church.    Maybe he pissed some people off, and now they're after him."

"Yeah..."

"You think the people in the van got him?

"Can't... can't remember."

Marilyn tried to sit up again, but she had an even harder time than before.   Nausea and dizziness squelched the effort before even began.

"You relax.   I'll get this guy."

"Royce... what time is it?... my daughter..."

"I called your house.   The babysitter'll stay there for the night.   It'll cost ya though.   You always pay that much?"

"That... that kid... is a mercenary."   Marilyn smiled, then winced.   Even smiling made her dizzy.   "Go... go get 'em Royce."

"You bet."

James left the room, and Marilyn was asleep again by the time he reached the door.

Out in the hallway, James reached into his coat and pulled out a cell phone.   It wasn't his police phone... this one was for his personal use.   The keypad had no numbers on it... just a single row of tiny unmarked buttons.     There was no antenna.    It didn't need one... even inside a hospital.

He pushed the second button from the top and put the phone to his ear.

"Yes?"  came a male voice on the other end.    The voice spoke as soon as Royce pushed the button...  the phone hadn't rung, and there hadn't been a dial tone.

"This is Royce.   We might have a problem."

"This problem have a name?"

"Donovan Wilde."

There was a long pause... and then the voice on the phone spoke.

"He's here?   You've seen him?"

"He WAS here.   He's dead now."

"Dead.   Are you sure?"

"Very.  The Sheep still don't have an identity on him... our own boys at the lab matched him up.   They'll keep quiet."

There was a second long pause.   "Is there... another?"

"Possibly.   Guy by the name of Jason Brooks keeps turning up."

"That name is unknown to us.     Are you certain"

"No."

"Find out.   Make sure it's him.   Use all the resources you have at your disposal... this is your TOP priority."

"And if it is him... you want me to-"

"Report to us and do nothing further.   WE shall take care of this... your place is merely to supply us with information."

"This guy's young.   Inexperienced.  He doesn't know what he's doing... probably doesn't even know what he is.   I can take him."

"You are a fool."

"I'm just sayin'... maybe if I do this you can move me to something a little more... distant.   Away from these cattle.  I don't like being here."

"What you like or dislike is irrelevant.  You will report to us and take NO action against Brooks.  None.   You know what happens to those who disobey."

"Yes.   Yes, sir."

The phone clicked as the connection was broken from the other end.

James put the phone back into his pocket.

"Well Mr. Brooks.    Whatever you've gotten yourself into, you'd better hope it kills you before WE find you."
 

"kay, I'm not even gonna ASK how a freakin VAMPIRE MONSTER knows how to drive..."  said Jason.  "But just HOW do you expect me to catch a Camero when I'm driving the truck from SANFORD AND SON!"

The 1957 Ford pickup clattered and protested loudly as Jason tried to coax another 5mph out of the ancient vehicle.

"Just drive faster."

"What the hell do you think I'm TRYING to DO!  I put this accelerator any closer to the floor and the TRANSMISSION is gonna JUMP OUT and RUN DOWN THE STREET!   Face it... we have LOST him!"

"We know where he's going."

"We know where he MIGHT be going!  And at this rate he'll get there a good TWO WEEKS before WE do!"

"We can catch him."

"Oh, PLEASE!  We're going 45 mph!  Do you know how fast a CAMERO can go!?   A HELL OF A LOT FASTER THAN 45 MPH!"

"Brite doesn't know the roads.   He's following his nose... but he has no idea where he's going.   You do.   Isn't there a short-cut... or some way to-"

"This IS the short-cut!"

"Then it'll have to do."

"Uh-oh... what's this?"

Jason was preparing to round a sharp curve when he saw the distinct flashing blue lights flashing through the trees.   There was a cop ahead.

"Roadblock,"  said Jason.  "We're screwed.  I'm going to jail now... thank you VERY much, Donovan, for screwing up my life!"

Jason came to a stop just before the curve in the road... the trucks breaks sounded like large chunks of glass being ground up with sharp rocks.

"Now what?"

"Keep going,"  said Donovan.

"Hellooo?  Cops up ahead... or haven't you noticed!"

"I noticed that there's no one coming around that curve to see why you stopped.   Keep going..."

Jason pulled around the curve slowly.

A single police car was waiting for him there... sitting by the side of the road    The lights were flashing.  The headlights were on.   The door was open.

But there was no cop.

"I've got a bad feeling about this," said Jason.   Jason coasted past the police car and looked inside as he passed...

"OH GOD!"

The cop was in the car... or at least SOME of him was.   The upper torso, the head, and one arm were sitting in the passenger seat like a grotesque set of luggage.   The remainder of the body was nowhere to be seen.

There was surprisingly little blood.   Almost no blood at all.

"Oh, God..."   Jason looked away.   He'd never seen anything like that before.   For some reason, watching horror movies didn't quite prepare him for it... and now he was trying very hard not to be sick.

"Drained and torn apart,"  said Donovan.  "Brite was here.   He's fed."

"Nooo... ya think!?"

Jason moved the truck forward a bit... just enough to take the mutilated corpse out of his sight.

"Okay,"  he said.  "So much for THAT plan... NOW where's he gonna go?"

"The plan hasn't changed."

"Wha?  We were supposed to keep him from feeding, right?  Too late... now what?"

"Jason,  the Brite you've fought thus far is only a shadow of what he can be once he's had his fill of human blood.  He is nowhere NEAR his potential... he'll still want to feed.  He'll still head for the closest inhabited place.   Now that he's fed once, he's probably ditched the car somewhere and taken to the air again."  

"We'll never catch him in this truck."

"The cop's car is faster.   And if you noticed... the engine is still running."

"What?   No.   With that... that BODY in there?  In pieces?  NO!"

"You'll have to move the body, of course."

"NO!"

"If we don't catch Brite, then you'll be seeing a LOT more bodies just like it."

"No!  No!  No!  ABSOLUTELY NOT!  I am NOT getting in that CAR!"

"Fine.  Have it your way."

Jason pressed down on the truck's accelerator.  The engine revved... then coughed up a cloud of black smoke that billowed out from under the hood.    The entire truck shuddered and died a miserable death as Jason resisted the urge to cry.

"Are we walking then?"  said Donovan.

Jason held up his right hand, made a fist, and extended his middle finger.

"Wherever you are, Donovan... this is for you."

"hat ought to do it, Nance,"  said Trevor.   The manager of the Ingles Sports and Hunting Supply store slammed the cash register closed and started arranging the day's receipts into a nice little stack.

"You sure, Mr. Ingles?"  said Nancy, the assistant manager.

"Yeah, yeah.   I can handle this.   Hit the floor lights and be sure to lock the door on your way out."

"Okay.  See you tomorrow."

Trevor Ingles watched Nancy's firm rump as it made its way to the store's front door.    Nancy turned off the main overhead lights and paused to lock the door behind her, leaving Trevor alone in the store.

Trevor continued to watch her rump through the large windows as she walked out into the parking lot.

"Yep..."  Trevor mused.  "Yep, yep, yep..."  He was lost in his own thoughts, and it was a while before he remembered that he still had work to do.  "Oh!"

Trevor took the receipts, the cash box, and his ledger to the back room where he rushed through the miscellaneous accounting tasks.  It was a chore that his brother... the store's owner... insisted that he do every night.   That took about ten minutes.    It SHOULD have taken a half hour, but Trevor wasn't one for accuracy.   Especially on Saturday nights.

"That reminds me..."  Trevor took a hundred  dollars out of the cash box and then changed some of the figures in the ledger.   Then he gathered a hundred dollars worth of receipts and conveniently 'lost' them in his back pocket... along with the cash.   As far as his brother or anyone else could tell, that hundred dollars simply didn't exist.   "Okay... time to go."

Trevor Ingles grabbed his coat and his briefcase... which held only a few adult magazines... and left the store.   He activated the alarm and locked the door behind him.

Trevor looked out across street at the mall.   The lights were on and there were a few cars still scattered around in the parking lot... but those would either be security guards or janitors.   Or the occasional late working storekeeper like himself.

Ingles Sports and Hunting Supply used to be a small specialty shop in that mall, but the city's recent growth spurt and the fact that Ingles was the ONLY hunting supply store around fueled a booming business.   The bank literally begged Trevor's brother to take out a loan and expand into his own separate building... which the elder Ingles was more than happy to do.  The loan payments were steep, but the store's income rose every month... even considering what Trevor regularly stole from the cash box.

Trevor turned his attention back to his own parking lot, where Nancy's black Ford Expedition still sat.   His own aging Volvo was parked about five spaces down from it.

"Hmmm...."  Trevor wondered what she was still doing here.   Perhaps she had car trouble... which meant Trevor might have a few more minutes in which he could gather the courage to ask her out.   Or to simply stare at her body.   "Nancy?"   he called.    There was no response.    "Ms. York?"

Trevor walked toward the truck.   He couldn't see anyone inside, but he DID hear something.

A slurping sound... followed by a wet smacking and more slurping... like someone enjoying a particularly juicy rare stake.   At first Trevor thought the sound was coming from inside Nancy's truck... but as he got closer and the sounds got louder, he realized that they were coming from outside... from just on the other side of the vehicle.

Trevor leaned down and tried to look under the SUV.   He saw a shape... shadows and movement.

"Nancy?"  Trevor called.

The slurping sounds halted.    So did Trevor

Nothing happened for a while.   Then the wet slurping sounds continued.

Trevor kept a .32 caliber pistol in a holster hidden in a holster under the waistline of his pants.   He pulled the gun out and started to creep around to the far side of the van.    He backed away from the vehicle as he moved... not wanting to get close to whoever it was.

Only it wasn't a who.

The thing was huge and monstrous... like some hideous stone gargoyle brought to life... complete with gray skin, and large leathery wings.    Nancy was on the ground at the thing's feet.   Her head was torn halfway off, and the creature had its mouth fastened firmly over the wound.    It looked up at Trevor as it continued to suck the blood from her body.

All of the color drained out of Trevor's face.

Trevor pointed his pistol at the thing and fired.   The bullet sank into the side of Nancy's SUV... missing the woman's attacker by several feet.   Trevor fired two more times without getting even a little closer.   His fourth shot hit the thing in the arm.

Then Trevor realized his mistake.

The thing detached its wide mouth from Nancy's ruined neck and smiled at Trevor... revealing a mouth filled with knife-like fangs.

"Uhhhh...."  Trevor backed away.

"Stay."  said the creature.   The thing's eyes began to shimmer and glow... and suddenly Trevor couldn't move.   "You shall be next to quench my thirst."

"Yes,"  said Trevor.  "Take me... master..."

Brite lowered his hypnotic gaze and continued his meal.   He sucked the last few pints of blood from the woman's fresh corpse, then he tore her head completely free of her neck.    He sat her head on top of the woman's car like some kind of hood ornament.

Trevor didn't even flinch.   His pulse quickened.    He smiled... reveling in the knowledge that he was next to feed the Master.

Brite smiled back at him.   Then, without warning, he leapt at Trevor like a tiger.

WHUMP!

The police car caught Brite in mid-leap.  The car must have been going over a hundred when it hit... so fast that by the time Brite heard it, it was already upon him.  And of course, Trevor was simply too bedazzled to care.

With Brite's surprised but completely unharmed body draped across the hood, the car continued on its path straight toward the front of the store.    It demolished the windows and the wall... and then continued INTO the store for several yards before it finally came to a halt.

At the moment of impact, the airbag deployed, punching Jason in the head and face like the fist of an angry giant.  Painful though it was, it did keep him from flying out through the windshield.

It also kept Brite from ripping his head off.   The vampire slashed open the windshield and got a fistful of the airbag.   He ripped it free... along with the steering wheel and a good portion of the patrol car's dashboard... and snarled at the empty drivers seat behind it.

Brite was confused for a fraction of a second before the gunshot and the searing pain of .30-06 slug drilling through his skull helped to clarify things.

Jason was backing away from the car.  His face was bruised and blood was pouring from his nose.   Shards of glass decorated his clothing.   A tiny wisp of smoke rose from the barrel of the farmer's hunting rifle, clutched tightly in Jason's hand.

Brite made a sound that was one part maniacal laughter, one part bestial roar.  Leapt from the hood of the patrol car and ran towards Jason.

Jason screamed bloody murder... but his hands moved independently of his fear soaked brain.

There were nine rounds left in the rifle's magazine.

The rifle fired with a loud CRACK!

Eight rounds.   Brite's charge didn't even falter as yet another slug sizzled through his skull.   Jason continued to fire shots in rapid succession... his supernatural reflexes once again turning the semiautomatic weapon into the equivalent of a machine gun.

CRACK-CRACK-CRACK-CRACK-CRACK-CRACK-CRACK-

Brite's head now looked like a giant crushed tomato.   The vampire stumbled... halted... then crouched down and leapt straight up... crashing through the roof and vanishing into the night.

Jason had exactly one shot left.

"Oh, Jesus..."   Jason sighed.  "I thought he wasn't EVER gonna stop!"

"We don't have time to waste!"  said Donovan.  "If he feeds again-"

"Yeah... right."

Jason turned to leave the store... then turned back and ran to the rear of the building.

"Jason what... oh."

Ingles was a sports and hunting supply store.

And it was the largest supplier of firearms in the city.

Jason didn't even understand what he was doing.   He simply relaxed his will and let his body do what it wanted.   It was as if some computer program were running in his mind.   Jason let it run.

He used the last round in the hunting rifle to blow the lock off of the display cabinet.   He grabbed two shotguns, one pump and one semiautomatic, ... two military style rifles... and five semiautomatic pistols of various calibers.    He smashed in another cabinet and grabbed as many boxes of ammunition as he could carry.   Then he snatched a few leather holsters and straps from a display case.  He returned to the gun cabinet to grab whatever extra magazines he could find.  He loaded the weapons and the spare magazines, and then positioned the weapons in various easily accessible places.   He hung the rifles and shotguns across his back.

Then the program ended, and Jason regained control of his body.

"My God,"  said Jason.   He looked down at himself and the weapons he carried.   "What's happening to me... I'm like a walking arsenal."

"Let's hope its enough.   Now, if you've finished arming yourself, there's still the matter of a vampire on the rampage in a populated area."

"Yeah... and the area's about get even more populated."

"Your meaning?"

"Hear those police sirens?   There must've been a silent alarm.   We're about to have company.  Maybe THEY can deal with this-"

"Brite will tear them apart.   This is YOUR mess, YOU have to clean it up."

"Yeah, but will that be BEFORE or AFTER the cops beat me to a pulp?  I AM a criminal now."

"Then the race is on.   We get Brite before they get you."

"Not a race,"  said Jason.  "A hunt."
 

To Be Continued...

copyright 2005 by Dark Icon Entertainment