The Tome of Bill (Book 7): The Wicked Dead (14 page)

Following that, I’d dragged Dave outside into the hall with me. As I faced him, I was surprised to find myself far more annoyed than upset. That was odd. Carl – all of them – were friends. Hell, Starlight’s death still stung like it had happened just yesterday. I’d even beaten myself up over biting some army guy I didn’t even know. Oddly enough, though, I couldn’t bring myself to mourn the passing of a guy I’d sat next to at the game table for over five years. What the hell?

First, I was compelling my friends, and now this?

They’re just cannon fodder ... meaningless to us
.

I forced myself to push it all down and found myself disturbed it came so easily. This was not like me.

“...and the dipshit grabbed it.”

“Huh?” I asked, trying to focus. Finding out the circumstances behind Carl’s untimely demise was more important than whatever was going on in my head.

“I said, I was in my room working on Ed’s blood. I had just gotten a sample mounted onto a slide and was about to take a closer look when Carl came in and grabbed it off my desk.”

“Your microscope?”

“No! The blood.”

“The slide or what was left in the syringe?”

Dave averted his eyes.

“Spill,” I commanded. “What happened?”

“It wasn’t in a syringe. In my excitement, I sorta bumped into the door on the way in and snapped the needle. So I grabbed a clean coffee mug out of the kitchen and squirted the blood into it so I didn’t lose any.”

“You had Ed’s blood in a coffee mug?”

“I think one of you dropped my box of test tubes on the way over.”

“So why the hell did Carl take it?”

“I might have sort of forgot to put those spare blood packs you gave us in the fridge. I just dumped them on the desk, and I guess Carl thought I was taking a snack break. I was too busy paying attention to what I was doing and didn’t notice him taking a swallow until it was too late.”

“Motherfucker,” I muttered.

“He was my friend too,” Dave said.

“I know,” I offered apologetically. It was stupid to assume he’d done it on purpose.

“But did you see what the fuck happened? He blew up like a fucking bomb! I really have to get some more from your roommate because that shit ain’t normal. Think of the possibilities.”

And just like that, I found myself wondering whether I should be more worried about myself or the psycho standing in front of me.

* * *

“You know it’s in the rules. Look them up.”

Adam eyed me skeptically, but Mike shrugged and said, “Bill’s got a point. Is that really how it works, Dave?”

I had found myself stuck between the choice of two evils. I didn’t want to keep compelling my friends. That was a slippery slope I’d already started to lose my footing on.

At the same time, the truth was going to seriously fuck shit up. I kept trying to convince myself that we didn’t have time to grieve for anyone. It sucked. Carl was probably the biggest ass at my gaming table, having once spent an entire campaign embezzling gold from the mine I’d inherited from my family. Even so, he deserved better. But better would have to wait.

Thus, I had fallen back on game rules. Dozens of years of vampire movies and TV shows had taught us that when a vamp is dusted, that’s it – sayonara, sucker. Aside from what I’d recently seen deep below the streets of Vegas, they were right too.

However, RPGs, in the name of making monsters tougher and giving GMs everywhere extra chances to fuck with their players, had changed things up a bit. When a vampire was defeated in D&D and other fantasy variants, they turned to mist and returned to their crypt to regenerate. That was the only place where they could be killed permanently.

Dave, having both been read the riot act by me, and also not wishing to lose his personal equipment mules, had gone along with it. “Yeah. He’s probably reforming as we speak.”

“At your apartment in Newark?”

“Seems a shitty place to always end back up in,” Adam commented.

“Hey!” Dave protested.

“It’s true. No offense, man, but you live in a dump.”

“So why don’t we go back and pick him up?” Mike asked, coming to the logical conclusion that I hoped they wouldn’t.

“We don’t have time for that,” I said. “I just received new orders from the Draculas...”

“What the fuck are the Draculas?” Adam asked.

Mike jumped in. “Is Dracula real?”

“No on the second,” I replied, “at least that I know of. As for the first, that’s the nickname of the ruling vampire council. Just don’t say that to their faces. Otherwise, they’ll remove yours.”

I ran with the distraction and spent several minutes bringing them up to speed on vampire politics. Fuck it; if any of them managed to survive, they’d need to know this shit anyway. Sadly, ignorance of vampire law was definitely not considered an excuse for breaking it.

It was only after I’d finished that I realized I’d been giving them the equivalent of an orientation speech, introducing them to the vampire world as if I now considered myself a part of it. That was a scary thought.

“So Carl will have to fend for himself for the time being,” I concluded, hoping that was the end of that. At some point, I’d need to explain the harsh reality of the afterlife, but for now, it seemed to mollify them.

Just then, footsteps could be heard descending the stairs. Saved by the cavalry.

Tom and Ed appeared, their shoulders laden with backpacks. Tom’s was much fuller and heavier in appearance, as he was no doubt Christy’s designated pack mule. Ed was carrying a longish item wrapped in a blanket – his shotgun. Hopefully, the police wouldn’t pick this night to start reasserting their presence on the streets. An insulated travel mug was in his other hand. End of the world it might be, but some folks weren’t going out without one last swig of coffee.

Christy came last, following down the stairs as best as she could in her current state. She was also carrying a bag, but it was much smaller than the ones weighing down my roommates. Judging by the scent that hit my nostrils from her direction, it held pungent herbs I couldn’t identify except to say they probably weren’t pizza toppings.

“Everyone ready?” Ed asked, stepping to the open doorway of the basement apartment.

“Yep,” I replied.

Tom joined him, peering inside. “Hey, where’s...”

“We’re ready to go,” I interrupted, not wanting to open that can of worms again. Tom was a brother to me. I loved him as much as any man could love another without picking out matching floral drapes, but I trusted him to keep his fucking mouth shut about as much as I trusted myself to win a game of mercy against a four-armed Sasquatch.

“Where to?” he asked, thankfully easily distracted.

“We have work to do before we can really hit the road, and we’re still two fellowship members short,” I replied, earning grins from around the room. “There’s only one place we can go for now and hope they catch up to us ... the Brooklyn safe house.”

I just hoped it lived up to its name.

We received no acknowledgements to the texts sent to our missing friends. That wasn’t entirely surprising as the increasingly spotty cell service around the city seemed to get worse by the day. That I’d been able to call home the day before was probably a minor miracle.

So, to be safe, I left notes taped to both the front door and the girls’ apartment informing Sheila and Sally that we’d be at the place “we discussed.”

It wasn’t exactly a top-notch cipher. Hell, pig-Latin would have been more esoteric, but it was the best I had. I just had to hope James had either been kidding about our place being burnt to the ground or that they’d hold off once they saw the bulk of us heading out.

That left the safe house. The big question was how safe it would actually be. On the one hand, it was known by the Boston staff. That being said, most of them, including their current Prefect – a tight-assed chick by the name of Calibra – were currently enslaved by Vehron. I had a feeling that didn’t exactly put them on speaking terms with the Draculas. James knew about the place, having been there, but I had to trust that he wasn’t looking to fuck us up the ass the second we turned our backs.

There was also the little problem of James confirming our phones were tapped and us being under constant surveillance. Oh well, at least that explained the feeling of being watched. Unfortunately, there was a chance the Brooklyn safe house would be about as a big of a secret as who Luke Skywalker’s father was.

We had maybe a day at most before we’d be forced to get our asses on the move. That would allow our human contingent to catch up on their rest, but that was about all.

“Shit!” I muttered as we made our way through the pre-dawn streets of Brooklyn.

“What is it?” Tom asked.

“We’re pretty much screwed.”

“Just figuring that out now?”

“I meant the plan ... the one to help me control my little personality disorder.”

“I’m pretty sure as far as that’s concerned, you’re a lost cause,” Dave said.

“Bite me,” I replied. “No. I mean, Christy and I were going to work together to...”

“What do you mean,
were
?” she asked.

I turned toward her on the dark sidewalk. “Exactly what I said. I doubt we’re gonna have much time to get comfortable where we’re going.”

“So we’ll get started right away.”

“Except we have no idea where Sheila is. We all agreed this is dangerous enough even with her there. Without her, it’s off. There’s no way I can guarantee your safety.”

“There were no guarantees to begin with.”

“I know, but at least with her there, the chances of...” I stopped mid-sentence. Multiple scents reached my nostrils a split second before a voice rudely interrupted our chat.

“I think we’ll be taking your cash, bags, and your bitch too.”

* * *

Call me crazy, but I almost laughed as a group of men stepped out of a recessed basement entryway ahead of us. My ears perked up and I turned my head to see an equal number coming up from behind us. Eight in all. Not much more than our number, but it was a safe bet to say these guys weren’t regulars on the gaming circuit. They were a mix – some big, some wiry, and each one of them meaning business – all with eyes as soulless as any vampire’s.

This was the true problem for most normal people. Even with the war approaching its zenith, the chances of stepping outside and having a random monster encounter were still probably not exactly super high. In any emergency situation, though, there were always going to be those who took advantage of things, becoming the predators in the night. Most folks didn’t need to worry about Sasquatches and vampires. Other people were monsters enough.

All that being said ...
seriously
? I’m sorry, but when you’ve survived getting your face punched in by a monster ape, some dude holding a box cutter was simply not going to make you blink.

I didn’t see any of our would-be assailants brandishing guns. They probably figured they didn’t need them with their strength of numbers. In most cases, they were right.

Today wasn’t one of those times, though.

I glanced to the side at Ed, his hand already working its way under the blanket to the boomstick beneath. A grin lit up his face. I had to match it. How funny was that? Little more than a year ago, we would have both called something like this our worst nightmare. Now it was barely a reason to break a sweat.

“You fucking deaf?” one of them asked, his voice the same one that had originally greeted us. He was a big guy, bald, and looking like he’d been beaten with the ugly stick upon birth. His eyes twinkled with greed, obviously expecting to get his way whether through violence or not – although judging from his expression, he was probably hoping for the former. “I better see those bags on the ground, your hands in the air, and your whore stepping my way.”

“Please let us pass,” Christy interrupted gently, her voice betraying neither fear nor threat. She was easily the closest our little group came to a diplomat. Hell, she’d even talked Alex a good game just a few days prior. “We don’t have time for this.”

“Bitch don’t have time for us.” The big goon let out a laugh and his friends in front of us joined him. Judging by the sound of footsteps, his buddies in back were closing in and spreading out – no doubt expecting some of us to run. “Maybe we can convince her otherwise. Make her scream while we cut that big belly of hers open and see what’s inside.”

Oh crap.

I saw the barest of sparks in her eye, and immediately put a hand on her shoulder. She turned toward me and I gave my head a single shake. There was no reason for her to waste her power on these goons. Also, I didn’t quite trust her to not immolate the entire block – us included – in the process. “We got this.”

The glow subsided, but the angry look in her eye didn’t. “Make it hurt.”

* * *

I had no intention of doing anything, hurtful or otherwise. I had friends and, after the events of the past hour, I probably owed them a thrown bone.

I turned and put a hand up to Adam’s face.

“What are you doing?”

“Smell it,” I whispered ... sensing the time before the first fist flew to be mere seconds away.

He took a quick breath and choked out, “Where the fuck have you been putting that thing?”

“Just remember the scent, shithead. Use it to catch up.” I raised my voice, making sure it was good and loud. “Defilers, if you will.”

“That’s it?” Adam asked. “
That’s
our battle cry?”

“I’m still working on it.”

“Good enough for me,” Mike replied, slipping his Cthulhu mask over his head. “To arms!”

I stepped aside as a blur of movement wearing a Cyberman head raced past me, slamming into the four goons and sending them sprawling.

“Let’s go,” I said to the rest of my friends. “This is gonna get messy.”

Christy glanced in my direction and raised an eyebrow. “Weren’t there three of them earlier?”

Oh crap.

* * *

I filled the rest in on Carl’s fate as the Defilers leapt into the fray behind us, including the lies I had told to keep them from losing their shit.