Blood Lust: A Supernatural Horror (29 page)

Simmons
hailed
from
Braxton County in
central West Virginia
, heart of coal mining country
. His father had work
ed
himself to death
at forty-seven
, coughing up coal dust,
mired in an endless cycle of poverty and ignorance. At sixteen
and large for his age
,
Simmons
, with no yen to follow his father’s example
had
lied about his age and joined the army. Homeland Security had recruited him from an elite Ranger squad in 2002
and Section
One
C
hief Tray Faber had quietly asked him to join his small band of specialists
a year later
.

His two companions, Denny Pryce and Lenny Horowitz, known as the Twins, though one was a wiry black
youth
from
Atlanta’s
Summer Hill neighborhood
and the other a tall, lanky
non-practicing
Jew from
Boston, methodically removed equipment from the van.

“I tell you this bug hunt is
strictly above and beyond, if you know what I mean,” Denny complained
, his high-pitched voice almost squeaky with worry
.
“I mean,
I know
we
’re
supposed to protect and defend against foreign attacks and all
, but
Man, this thing ain’t even human.”

“It’s foreign. It comes from South America,” Lenny reminded him.

“From hell you mean,” Denny shot back. “I saw those two dead ones
they brought back
and they were
just
babies. Man, mama’s gonna be
really
pissed.”

Simmons
agreed
but kept it to himself
. “All right, you two. Keep it down. We’re supposed to be
sneaking up on th
ese
things.”

“Yes, father,” they said in unison and laughed.

The corners of
Simmons
’ lips lifted in a smile before tossing it aside like a
n old
familiar toy
of which he had
grown
weary
.
His weariness showed in the dark circles under his
eyes and in the slump of his broad shoulders.
He was only a few years older than
his companions were
, but he supposed he did treat them like his children. He
had been
the same way with his Special Ops squad in
Iraq
, close to him men
.
“Check your weapons.”

Each
of them
was armed with a powerful tranquilizer pistol capable of knocking out a rhino is two seconds.
They had been forbidden to carry lethal arms.
Having
seen
the dead juveniles,
Simmons
was leery of that order. He knew
Faber
wanted a live creature or
else
they could just follow that
Detective
Hardin around and clean up after him
. G
oing in unarmed seemed foolhardy at best
.
Pryce
carried a steel mesh net fired by a compressed gas canister. The net was
a special
lightweight
metallic
fabric composed of a series of
interlocking
rings, capable of collapsing
upon itself
when charged, effectively shrink
-
wrapping the creature.
Horowitz
carried a second canister, as well as a
collapsible
fiberglass
electric cattle prod
that delivered a
n
80,000-volt
charge at low amperage.
The lab boys believed it
powerful enough to stun the creature.
Simmons
hoped so.

He had seen similar such devices used for torture in Iraq, the most popular being known as a ‘
picana
’.
In the right hands, i
t
could be quite effective,
deliver
ing
a powerful
,
painful
electric
charge without causing
visible physical damage. He knew this from firsthand experience at the hands of a
pair of
Iraqi
intelligence officer
s
. Two days
and nights
of torture had seemed like years
. I
f not for a timely rescue, he wondered if he would have eventually spilled his guts.

Pryce
reached for his .
45
Magnum, his ‘g
ood luck
charm’ as he called it.
Simmons
spotted him.

“Forget it,
Pryce
. You know the rules. No
lethal
weapons.”

“Damn it, Cla
d
. I feel naked without my good luck charm. It
’s
saved my life several times in
Hotlanta.
” He held the pistol out in front of him turned sideways like a gangbanger.
“
I
ain’t got a good feeling
about this shit.
Shouldn’t we be carrying silver bullets or something? I could run get us some garlic.
”

“I’ll protect you,”
Horowitz
offered.
Tall, wiry and bookish, Horowitz looked more like a librarian than
a
college wrestling
champion
, but his thin frame
and easy smile belied his hidden strength
.

“Hell, Lenny
,” Pryce moaned
.
“
You can’t hit shit.”

“I’ll watch out for both of you,”
Simmons interjected
to stop their bickering.

He led the way into the
church
, pausing a
t the door long enough to quickly
cross himself.
The
trio
spread out and searched the nave as they moved deeper into the
old church
. As he walked through the door into the monastery’s sanctuary, he was surprised that the smell of death still lingered
so strongly
with the bodies removed
. It was as if the building was incorporating the deaths and the memory of death into its stone and mortar soul. He shuddered at
his morbid
thought.
He had read of the
dark
history of the monastery. If, as some believed, buildings
became saturated with the memory of events,
and then
the monastery
was surely an evil place.

Simmons noted the twisted steel frame of the demolished gate leading into the basement, a good indication of the strength of the creature.
The juveniles, only a few days old according to the lab, were still bigger than a human and
more powerful. Hardin, whatever else he may be, had balls the size of coconuts to confront them alone.

In spite of the late afternoon light outside spilling in through the damaged roof, the sanc
t
uary
was cold and dark. Simmons pulled out his flashlight and descended the steps into the basement.
He motioned for his team to be vigilant. The clutter of crates and old furniture could easily hide one of the creatures.
He didn’t expect to find them asleep in their coffins, as Pryce had earlier joked.
When confronted with
the
two openings,
Simmons
decided
against splitting up and chose
the
left-hand
catacomb-like opening first.
He knew it
ended in a peculiar room that looked like an old flourmill.
He wanted to examine
the room
in more detail.
It seemed a likely spot for the creatures’ lair.

The
narrow
winding corridor smelled like old death, with
its
niches filled with old bones and broken
ossuaries
.
The
stale
,
musty air
was thick with dust
.
Simmons
fought back the urge to sneeze.
He grumbled to himself that the Jesuit monks who had carved the catacombs must have been small men.
Some of the
twisting
passages were
s
o tight he had to move sideways to avoid getting
his wide shoulders
stuck.
Moving single file reduced their effectiveness. He hoped they did
n’t
encounter any of the creatures in such a confined
space.

“Yo, Cla
d
,”
Pryce
whispered. “You smell that?”

Simmons
took a deep whiff of air and nodded. “Ammonia.” He cautioned them to silence. The creature was somewhere nearby
or had been recently
. He
panned
the flashlight around and saw they were in a
large room filled with
stone
sarcophagi
stacked three deep
.
A few were broken and crumbling
,
spilling their
mummified
contents irreverently on
to
the floor. 
Simmons
shook his head in disbelief that
a
ny religious order
would
simply abandon the dead when they had abandoned the
monastery
. That
didn’t seem right to
him. He had been raised Methodist but had found Catho
licism later in life
, drawn to its centuries’ long, almost military-like traditions
.

“
They should have moved the bones to a consecrated site
,” he whispered
.

“They’re dead. They don’t care,” Pryce answered.

A scraping sound to his left
drew
Simmons
attention. He swung the light and caught a brief glance of a creature’s wing
darting behind a row of sarco
phagi
. He brought up his dart gun
to fire
but it was too late.
Pryce
had been quicker.
He fired his canister at the creature. The released air raised a cloud of dust and
the loud
whump
popped
Simmons’
eardrums, but the steel mesh settled
neatly
over the creature’s shadowy outline.

“Got him!”
Pryce
called out
. He pulled tight the lanyard he held in his hand as he pressed
a stud
on the control box. The creature screamed shrilly as the mesh began to tighten around it.

“Hold him!
”
Horowitz
yelled in encouragement, readying his tranquilizer gun.

Simmons danger sense kicked into high gear.
It
all
seemed much too easy. Things generally didn’t work out so well
in real life
.
H
e
quickly
scanned
the room
for
danger
just as a
second shadow pounced from the corner and enveloped
Pryce
.
Pryce’s
muffled scream echoed through
out
the room.
Simmons
fired his dart gun
at the creature,
hitting it
in the wing.
He
had
counted to
ten
before he realized the tranquilizer wasn’t working. He pulled out his knife.
Damn
the
orders!
Pryce
was dying
.
He charged the creature.

Pryce’
s screams
ended abruptly
as
the
adult
creature released him
and d
ropped
him
to the floor amid a pool of his blood, his
throat gaping obscenely
, his eyes wide with surprise
. Blood dripped from the creature’s muzzle
.
Horowitz
screamed and fired his canister.
He
missed
and the net bounced away
harmlessly
.
He started toward the creature barehanded but
Simmons
stopped him.