Authors: Brandon Massey
"You guys aren't my parents," Jahlil said. His chest was
tight. "You don't even know me. So why do you care?"
He had to almost choke out the last words. He couldn't
cry, not now. He had work to do.
Nia placed her hand on his shoulder. Something about the
way she looked at him reminded him, startlingly, of his
mother, and he felt a loosening of tension in his chest.
"Please," she said softly.
"Well ... okay." He placed the shotgun on the seat.
Curious, King sniffed the gun's wooden stock.
"Use this." Nia offered him one of those Molotov cocktails. "Need a lighter?"
"I have one" He fished a cigarette lighter out of his
pocket.
Positioning his legs against the back of the seats again, he
popped through the sunroof.
The hellhounds were close. Less than twenty feet away.
"I'm gonna knock you assholes back," he said. He flicked
the lighter.
"Hold on!" Nia said. "We're gonna turn!"
Jahlil lodged himself in the corner of the sunroof, to keep
his balance. The truck veered around a curve, dark trees
floating past.
The lighter flame winked out. He struck it again.
Something thudded against the back of the SUV.
Jahlil raised his head ... and saw the grimy hands of a
vampire grasping the edge of the roof.
He froze.
The bloodsucker had leapt onto the rear bumper. It began
to hoist itself up, like a man doing a pull-up. The vampire
was someone he knew. It was Mr. Laymon, the dean at the
high school.
Mr. Laymon's face was smeared with dirt and dried
blood. His white shirt looked as if it had been washed in a
mud puddle.
"Gonna take care of you, boy," Mr. Laymon said in a guttural voice. He pulled himself onto the roof. He crouched
like a panther ready to pounce.
Jahlil remembered the Molotov cocktail in his hand. In a
swift motion, he lit the cloth fuse, then hurled the bomb at
the vampire.
The bottle smacked against the vampire's chest. It blew
up with a whoompf.7
Jahlil raised his arm across his face to protect against the
flying glass shards and the flames. A sudden push of heat
drove him back inside the truck.
Shrieking, aflame, the vampire tumbled off the roof like a bundle of straw. It crashed onto the pack of vampiric dogs.
Yelping, the creatures scattered.
With the pursuing monsters disoriented by the fire, David
began to pull away from them.
"Great job, Jahlil," Nia said.
"Thanks. I just wanted to get those things off our ass"
"Good work, but don't celebrate yet," David said. "We're
getting ready to enter the swamp"
Death surrounded Diallo.
The dead female seer was sprawled in the rocking chair.
The police officer lay under a blanket. Indirectly, Diallo had
been responsible for his death, as well; every vampire that
walked in this town acted under his command.
However, the experience of standing amidst human death
that he had wrought was curiously hollow.
The seer's words echoed in his mind.
You will see her again, Diallo. She is not lost to you forever.
How could the woman have possibly learned about
Manama? How had he dared to let his emotions swell so
close to the surface of his consciousness?
He did not understand, and it disturbed him. Yet, strangely,
it excited him, too.
What if the seer's prediction was correct? What if he found
Manama again?
No one had ever confirmed his long-held hope that he
would one day be reunited with her. No one until now.
He did not believe in coincidence. Coincidence was a
symptom of man's unwillingness to believe in fate. For
him, signs of fate at work were the compass of his existence.
Was it fate that he would see Mariama once more?
He yearned to believe that it was true.
But until the truth was revealed, he would have to pursue
his mission.
He cast a final glance over the dead. Then went outside
the house, where his son awaited him. It was time to find
David Hunter.
As David drove down the narrow route toward the swamp,
a dense cloud of fog swallowed them. He tried to raise the
brightness of the headlights, but they were already on the
highest setting.
"David, be careful." Nia watched the road, warily. "You
can slow down, we have a good lead."
"Yeah, but I don't want to drive too slow." He squinted
through the windshield at the roiling, silvery waves of mist.
He was driving only fifteen miles an hour. The vampires had
been distracted by their torched comrade, but they would not
give up. He had to press forward at a good pace.
The leather-wrapped wheel stuck to his sweaty hands as
if melded to them with glue. A persistent itch above his right
eyebrow agitated him, but he didn't dare to take his hand
away from the wheel.
Thankfully, at this leg of their journey, the trail was straight,
though in the fog it was a challenge to stay on course. Patches
of mist floated like aimless spirits, and gnarled trees loomed
like giant hags in the murkiness.
Fine condensation coated the windshield. He turned on
the wipers to clear the glass. They skidded across the window with a harsh whonking noise.
"We're in the clear," Jahlil said. "I don't see those assholes coming after us. All you gotta do is get through this
swamp. That's it."
"We'll make it," Nia said. "Hang tight."
David gnawed his lip. Their optimism was encouraging,
but he would feel better after he'd reached dry land.
The path dropped out of sight.
Terror leapt in his heart. He twisted the wheel, in a desperate attempt to reconnect with the road.
But it was too late. The Pathfinder plunged into the water
with a tremendous splash. A giant tree hulked ahead of
them. David pumped the brake, but he was too late for that,
too. The truck smashed against the tree, the impact throwing
David forward, the seat belt tightening across his chest. Nia
and Jahlil shouted in surprise. David rocked back into his
seat, and that was when he heard the engine cough, sputter,
and die.
avid sat still, and silent, stunned by their predicament.
Nia and Jahlil even King had fallen quiet, too.
Water gurgled underneath the vehicle. Floating serpents
of fog slithered across the windows.
"We are not stuck here," David said firmly. "Everyone
stay cool."
Nia clutched the armrests. Jahlil muttered under his breath.
King whined.
He refused to accept that they were trapped. Only minutes ago, he had felt destiny touch him, like an electric
charge. They were not meant to stay in this situation, no way.
In the distance, he heard barking dogs.
He twisted the key in the ignition with nearly enough
force to snap the key in half.
The engine stuttered, but did not catch. He pushed the gas
pedal.
"Be careful, you don't want to flood the engine," Nia
said.
"Don't you think I know that?" he said. But then he eased
his foot off the accelerator.
"Sorry, only trying to be helpful."
On the dashboard display, the engine light burned. What
could be wrong? This truck had only forty thousand miles
on the odometer, and he kept it superbly maintained. And he
had only bumped the tree. The damage should be minimal.
He tried to start the truck again. It fluttered, then caught.
He urged it into a steady thrumming.
"I told you," he said. "We're not getting stuck here. Sorry
I snapped at you, Nia."
"We're all on edge" She smiled nervously.
"Enough talk, let's get out of here," Jahlil said.
David shifted into reverse.
The wheels spun, but the Pathfinder did not budge.
"Oh, no," Jahlil said. "We're stuck in the mud."
"Damn," David said. Tension squeezed his chest, as if
steel bands were tightening across his torso.
"We'll have to get out and push it," David said. He looked
at Jahlil. "You and I. Nia can get behind the wheel and work
the gas pedal."
"Man, you're crazy," Jahlil said. "There're snakes in this
swamp, remember what Pearl said? Water moccasins. Those
things are deadly."
"Yeah, I remember." David peered out the side window at
the dark water. "But we don't have a choice. We've got to do
it now They'll be on our ass again, soon."
Even as he spoke, the vampiric dogs' barks grew louder.
King whined.
"Take weapons with you," Nia said. "Ones you can strap
over your shoulder. Just in case"
Jahlil hefted the bulky flamethrower out of the rear cargo
area and offered it to David. David grabbed the weapon's
strap, and carefully opened his door.
The swamp water was tar black. The murky surface
purled only an inch beneath the truck.
He stepped outside, and it was like plunging his feet into
a tub of ice cubes. He sucked his teeth.
Nia scooted behind the steering wheel. David shut the
door and strapped the flamethrower on his back, as Mac had
instructed him.
"Hit the gas when I give you the signal," he said.
Behind them, the mist prevented him from seeing more
than ten feet ahead. However, he heard the hounds getting
closer. Their snarls echoed through the night.
"Let's go!" he shouted to Jahlil. On the other side of the
truck, Jahlil, his shotgun hanging over his shoulder, sloshed
toward the front of the SUV.
David trudged through the water. He knew virtually nothing about water moccasins, but he was alert for any sinuous
movements. Driftwood littered the marsh, and green vines
floated here and there, like disembodied tentacles.
He came around the front of the truck. Insects fluttered in
the headlight beams. The gnarled oak with which the vehicle
had collided grew on a muddy wedge of earth. He stepped
onto the island, and his feet immediately sank into the muck.
"Put a leg against the tree for leverage," he said to Jahlil.
"We'll push on the count of three"
Nodding, Jahlil braced his body against the tree trunk.
They put their hands on the hood, above the Pathfinder's
headlights. David squinted against the glare.
"One, two, three!" David raised his fist so that Nia could
see the signal and punch the gas.
They pushed. The tires squealed. David grunted, his muscles burning. The Pathfinder inched backward, the wheels
spitting up mud.
After they had moved the truck about a half foot, they hit
another rut.
David gave Nia a sign to hold off for a moment, so they
could catch their breath. He sucked in great gasps of air.
The bloodsucker mutts had stopped barking. Odd.
He put his hand on the flamethrower, peered into the layered fog.
A vampire charged out of the mist.
It was Kyle. The fiend appeared to be floating on air. In
truth, David realized, he was running on the surface of the
water.
Jesus.
"Look out!" David said, to warn Nia and Jahlil. He
sloshed away from the Pathfinder, to keep from blowing up
the truck when he fired the flamethrower.
Kyle bore down on him. His eyes blazed like the flames
of hell. "Hunter!"
This is what it comes down to, David thought. Finally, the
big face-off.
He swung the weapon toward Kyle and pumped the trigger.
The flamethrower emitted only a puff of harmless air.
Roaring, Kyle backhanded David across the face.
David soared through the air as if slugged by a giant. He
hit the water and sank underneath, muck pouring into his
nostrils and mouth.
He flailed his arms. Gasped for air. Thought he wouldn't
make it, he was going to drown, but then he broke the surface, coughing violently. Blood streamed down his chin, and
a numb pain spread from his nose and fanned across his
face. Bastard had probably busted his nose.
A gun banged. David wiped mud from his eyes, and saw
what was going on. Jahlil had stepped away from the truck
and taken a shot at Kyle.
God, don't let that kid die. Please.
The vampire took the hit without slowing. Kyle surged
forward and smacked the shotgun out of Jahlil's grasp. Jahlil
screamed in rage and threw a fist at the monster. Kyle seized
Jahlil like a parent grabbing a petulant infant. He tossed the
boy across the swamp. There was a resounding splash, somewhere in the misty darkness.
Gotta kill that bastard, David thought.
But he had lost the flamethrower in his fall. The weapon
lay against a nearby oak, half submerged in the water.
Still woozy from the blow he had taken, he started toward
the tree.
Then he stopped.
A large black-and-green serpent slithered across the
marsh: a water moccasin.
It was coming toward David.
When David shouted his warning, things began to happen
so quickly that Nia grew almost faint with fear.
Paralyzed in her seat, she watched David try to fire at
Kyle, then fail as the vampire hit him, sending him flying
through the air.