GIVING TO THOSE IN NEED
With The Destroyer dead, I thought things would get better. I was wrong and, judging by the current hail of gunfire, on multiple fronts, too.
“Jeez. How many fucking bullets do these assholes have anyway?”
“They’re not assholes,” Sheila chided, crouched behind the barrier with me despite being impervious. “They’re just scared.”
“Can we maybe meet halfway and agree that they’re scared assholes?”
Had her return gaze been weaponized, it would have easily cut me to pieces.
I probably deserved it, too.
After everything we’d been through, I was still keeping secrets from her. I kept telling myself they weren’t my secrets to tell, but that didn’t make me feel much better about it.
Still, I’d hoped that after some food, maybe a shower, and definitely some sleep, everything would...
Hah! Would what? Get back to normal?
Normal was about as far from my reality as it could get these days. Hell, there was a good possibility what I used to consider “normal” would never grace my doorstep again.
Truth be told, I wasn’t even sure I wanted it to.
Part of the reason why was on my other side, just itching to return fire.
“This would be a lot easier if we shot back,” Sally remarked, casually polishing the muzzle of her ridiculously oversized handgun as if bullets weren’t ricocheting around us.
“No!” Sheila turned toward us and paused, her eyes dropping to Sally’s big-ass Desert Eagle for a long moment. She was probably thinking the same thing I was: talk about fucking overkill. “We’re here to help these people, reassure them that the threat is over. That they no longer have to fear their loved ones being dragged off into the night.”
I couldn’t help but chuckle. “And who better to convince them than a bunch of weirdos wandering the streets after dark?”
Sheila’s aura flared up, and I scooted back until I bumped into Sally ... who unceremoniously shoved me away. “Personal space, dickhead.”
And yet I’d been happy, for God knows whatever reason, when her memories had been restored.
Sheila reeled her aura in before it could incinerate me. “We’re out here after dark because it was your idea to do this.”
Oh yeah, that.
♦ ♦ ♦
Following the fight with Vehron and subsequent escape by Calibra, AKA Ib the first vampire, we’d been stuck in a bit of a quagmire.
While we had some idea as to where she’d gone, we had no clue how to follow. And following her was at the top of our priority list. The stone-aged bitch had kidnapped my roommate Ed, along with James, Gan, my fucking DM Dave, and nearly everyone else who’d been in the Boston complex at the time. Some people just loved to make a dramatic exit.
Christy and her coven sisters were working on tracking Calibra, but that had left the rest of us to plant our thumbs squarely up our asses until then.
Sitting and waiting was simply out of the question. There was too much to do and I had far too much on my mind. There wasn’t even a working wet bar on the premises to keep me otherwise occupied.
Turns out I hadn’t been the only one antsy to do something.
The Templar who’d come up to Boston with Sheila had opted to return to the city streets. They had wanted to assess the damage Vehron had done during his rule here while also doing what they could to help anyone in need.
Though they’d professed their reasons to be entirely altruistic in nature, I had a feeling part of it was because they didn’t want to wait around in the former vampire stronghold of the northeast. Oddly enough, despite being humorless shitheads of the highest caliber, it was one area where the Templar and I saw eye to eye.
I’d approached Sheila with some of my own thoughts on helping out, hoping it would also serve to break the ice between us a bit. The Templar could hand out sandwiches wrapped in Bible tracts during the day, but the night probably required a slightly different approach. There were possibly still minions of Ib about, including packs of feral zombies set loose in Boston during Vehron’s reign.
Sheila had agreed with my reasoning and, after a measured pause, offered to accompany me. Score one! I’d been hoping it would give us a chance to talk. Our last conversation had ended with a nasty reminder that she and I were once again destined to decide the world’s fate by way of combat. Maybe it was crazy of me, but that sounded like something worth at least a brief chitchat.
Much to my surprise, though, Sally had cock-blocked that idea and volunteered to tag along.
She claimed boredom, but her eyes said otherwise. Though her mannerisms seemed normal on the outside, I got the feeling that even though she was back to being her old self, she also ... wasn’t. The way she’d acted upon her memories being returned hadn’t gone unnoticed. Her tone and demeanor had been apologetic, afraid – in short, decisively not Sally.
Alex had fucked with her mind but good. Yet another in a long string of incidents I owed that asshole for, with interest piling up daily. That a truce had been called between us probably didn’t mean much to either party involved.
None of that really helped our current situation, though. We’d been out for a couple of hours. Aside from a legless zombie we’d found in an alleyway, it had been slow. Slow and awkward, actually, with little more than small talk passing between us. Honestly, it was starting to piss me off.
Not exactly the dream date my subconscious insisted our threesome would be.
I’d almost rejoiced aloud when the sound of a heated argument drifted through the open window of a nearby brownstone. Needless to say, my enthusiasm had waned ever so slightly once the bullets started flying.
♦ ♦ ♦
We’d walked over to investigate, only to be greeted by an angry face peering out from a ground floor window. “Who the fuck are you?” he’d called out, a gun barrel pointing our way giving the question extra emphasis.
Sheila’s aura had sprung to life in response. Not surprising, but perhaps not the best move, as the look on the man’s face quickly turned to one of surprise and panic.
A hail of lead followed his cry of “It’s one of those freaks!”
Thank goodness there’d been some concrete pilings in the lot next door, an abandoned construction effort of some sort, or Sally and I would have ended the night picking bullets out of each other’s ass. Kinky, but not quite a fetish I’d like to explore.
♦ ♦ ♦
“So are we going to sit here all night?” Sally asked.
“Oh, I don’t know,” I replied. “It is a rather lovely evening.”
She rolled her eyes in disgust and looked past me at Sheila. “You’re the last defender of humanity. So do something before these fucktards need defending.” As if to emphasize her point, she checked the magazine of her gun before popping it back in.
The two locked eyes for a moment, glaring at each other as if I wasn’t even there, until Sheila broke contact and gave a single nod.
Before she could act, though, the gunfire ceased. “The whole neighborhood knows you freaks are out there,” the man called to us.
“No shit,” I whispered.
“If you want to live to see the next five minutes, throw any weapons out and then stand up. Nice and slow, and I’d better not see anything weird.”
“I think he means...”
“I know what he means,” Sheila hissed at me. She took a deep breath and the glow around her faded away.
“Yeah, well, fuck that shit,” Sally said. “If this asshole thinks we’re going to stand up and give him free potshots at us, he’s...” She trailed off and cocked her head to the side.
“Finally realized the point of this wasn’t a killing spree?” I asked.
“No, stupid,” she snapped. “Listen.”
That was easier said than done with my ears still ringing. It was probably only a matter of seconds before Doc Holliday there decided to go all O.K. Corral on us again, but I tried anyway.
Sally was right. Footsteps. No, not just footsteps ... feet marching in rhythm, a lot of them.
“What’s wrong?” Sheila asked.
“We’re not alone,” I said a moment before two columns of cops in riot gear came double-timing it toward us from either end of the block. About half were armed with assault rifles, while the rest...
Wait. Definitely not the police. Their uniforms were unmarked, completely black. Also, unless I’d missed something, silver stakes weren’t standard issue for police.
Vampires.
They quickly encircled us, but from a distance – no doubt aware that getting too close to the Icon was a bad way to end one’s night. Their weapons were at standby, but the meaning was clear. They could turn us into Swiss cheese before we could so much as scratch our asses.
One of them stepped forward toward the house, hands raised. “Please stand down. We have the situation under control.”
“I don’t want any trouble,” the man called from inside, his voice finally cracking and betraying the fear beneath.
“And I can assure you, neither do we,” someone answered from behind the line of vamps.
Oh no. Not him!
“Son of a bitch,” Sally spat, lowering her weapon.
The line of armed vampire guards parted to reveal a familiar greasy countenance draped in an overpriced suit.
Colin smiled as he approached, a look of utmost smugness etched upon his face that had me wishing his men had opened fire on us instead.
Surely that would have been the kinder fate.
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