Fall of the Mortals (Book 1) (3 page)

“What did you find?” Miranda asked.

“The answer,” said Kristof with an evil grin, holding up the photo.

“A photograph?” asked Damien.

“There’s only one way to get them out,” said Kristof.

“What?” Miranda asked anxiously.

“We make them come to us.”

“How? They wouldn’t dare step outside,” said Damien.

Kristof let out an evil grin and looked at Miranda.

“Female persuasion.”

***

The next morning, Shaun exited the building holding a backpack. His jaw dropped in disbelief. He looked at the line of their beautiful sports cars that were destroyed. They were now a pile of twisted metal.

“No freaking way,” he mumbled.

He walked over to the destroyed Lamborghini. He picked up a piece of torn scrap metal and chucked it across the pavement.

“You gotta be freaking kidding me.”

Tommy and Chris came out of the building. They saw the demolished cars and it scared them. Shaun walked to his motorcycle that had been knocked over.

“Shaun?” asked Tommy.

“What?” he answered.

“What happened out here?” he asked.

Shaun opened his seat. His photo and diary of Sharon and Kylie were gone. He filled with grief.

“Do you really have to ask, buddy?” said Shaun in a sharp tone.

“Why would they do this, man?” asked Chris.

“Your guess is as good as mine, dude,” said Shaun.

Tommy and Chris walked over to a black Ferrari. It wasn’t touched.

“At least they left the Ferrari alone,” said Tommy.

“Well, it’s not like we paid for them,” said Shaun.

He put on his backpack, picked up his motorcycle and climbed on. He turned on the engine and revved it. It was loud.

“I’ll be back in a while!” said Shaun.

“Where you goin’?” asked Chris.

“Just for a ride,” said Shaun, riding off down Grande Avenue.

***

Shaun rode on the freeway. Loud eighties rock music blasted into his ear buds. He didn’t mind the desolate, lifeless surroundings. He enjoyed decompressing with his tunes and not having to worry about any traffic being in his way. He felt adventurous. Going to Santa Monica beach, a measly twenty minutes away, wasn’t going to cut it. He wanted to get away.  He headed north to Santa Barbara, a three hour round trip. No kids bickering. No crazy old men. It was just him, the road, his music and the water. He was deeply bothered that they took his diary and photo of Sharon and Kylie. Two of his best comforts were gone.

***

Shaun reached Santa Barbara pier and drove to the edge of Stearns Wharf. Watching the waves eased his tension. Looking back at the beach made him think of Sharon and Kylie and the picnics he used to have with them. He remembered building sandcastles with Kylie while Sharon lay on a lawn chair soaking in the rays. He missed them terribly. He looked at one of the vacant restaurants on the wharf. The entrance door was slightly opened. The slight breeze caused the door to lightly slam against the door jamb repeatedly.  He rode to the restaurant thinking of supplies. He climbed down and put his keychain in his jacket pocket. The keychain was attached to a black coiled loop for fastening around his wrist.

The dining area was a mess. Tables and chairs were knocked over. Some of the windows were broken. There was an eerie silence despite the daylight that shined throughout the restaurant. He made his way to the kitchen in the rear. He heard the sounds of dogs licking and eating something in the back near the freezer. He carefully came around a corner and saw four German Shepherds licking and gnawing on an older couple who were dead lying on the floor. He didn’t disrupt them but watched the gruesome sight for a moment. One of the dogs turned and looked at him. It growled. He pulled out a small pistol from the small of his back and stepped away. The dog continued to growl at him and slowly moved towards him. He loaded a round in the chamber.

“It’s okay, boy,” he said. “It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you.”

The dog stopped growling and returned to the corpse feast. Shaun let out a sigh of relief. He went to the pantry and searched for goods of any kind. He grabbed cans of soup, fruit, beans and a small bag of sugar. He stuffed them in his backpack and left.  When he returned to his motorcycle, he filled with terror. His key wasn’t in his pocket. He frantically checked all of his pockets. They were gone.

“No, no, no. This isn’t happening,” he mumbled.

He ran back into the restaurant. It was overwhelming to look at the messy floor knowing the keys could be anywhere.

“Damn!”

He began to stress. He rushed back to the kitchen and frenziedly looked all over. He knocked pots, pans and cookie sheets to the floor. They weren’t there. The fear of death crept on him. He was ninety minutes away by vehicle to the tower. He was completely stranded and it was afternoon. There was no one to call to help him. He heard the dogs leave the restaurant in the other room. He ran out of the restaurant and watched them for a moment.

“I’m screwed,” he mumbled, panting and feeling scared.

He noticed one of the dogs had something in its mouth. He drew closer trying to get a better look at the object. It was his keychain. The black coil hung from its jaws. He carefully approached the dogs.

“C’m’ere boy. That’s it. C’m ’ere.”

He reached his hand out slowly to the dog. He was just about there.

“C’mon. Drop the key for me.”

The dog watched him draw closer. The other dogs growled and barked fiercely at him. He flinched and stepped back.

“C’mon. Give me my damn key!”

The dogs took off running down the wharf. He sprinted after them. It was stressful keeping his eyes on the culprit dog; they ran in a pack. They drew near the entrance of the wharf. He grew tired, breathing heavily from the running. The dogs continued at their fast pace towards a one-level building across the entrance. The double glass entry doors of the building were boarded up. There was just enough room for the bandit dog to maneuver through a space in the boards. The other ones scattered.

Inside the building, it was dark. All the windows were painted over in black. Some of them had boards nailed up. He heard the dog in the next room over. He hurried across the lobby to the opening of the next room. It was darker. The room was open. It had a cold draft.  There was a feeling of death in the room. The dog sat at the opposite end of the room, panting. Shaun could only see the silhouette of the dog. The rest of the room was dark. Shaun heard the keychain fall from its mouth to the floor in front of him. It sat staring at Shaun. Shaun moved toward the dog.

“It’s okay, bud. It’s okay. I just want my keys.”

A pair of vampire eyes opened at the side of the room. They moved toward Shaun. The eyebrows furrowed. Shaun slowly reached down and picked up his keys. A vampire slowly rose from its resting place. It breathed heavily. Shaun filled with horror knowing something unfriendly was right behind him. The vampire opened its hands. His fingernails were long and sharp. He salivated on the appearance of Shaun’s flesh.

“Fresh blood,” it mumbled.

Shaun grabbed his pistol. He quickly turned and fired at the vampire behind him. The shots lit up the dark room with flashes of light. The vampire covered, screamed and flinched at the bullets hitting him. Shaun ran around him and sprinted to the door of the lobby; the vampire flew after him, roaring. Shaun was almost to the door. The vampire grabbed his backpack and pulled it off. Shaun dove out the front door and rolled on the ground. The front door slammed shut. He sat on the ground, breathing heavily.

“I’m never coming here again,” he mumbled, picking himself up and dusting off.

***

The ride home on the freeway seemed long. The sun was going down; Shaun felt nervous. He knew he had enough time to make it back but he felt stupid for riding to Santa Barbara. He thought about the vampires destroying their cars.
Why would they do that? What would cause them to be so violent now? Sure, they broke windows at the tower but to destroy all the cars except for the Ferrari? Were they looking for something? If so, what?

CHAPTER TWO
A Voice in the Night

Everyone was asleep. Shaun stayed up holding the shotgun with a blanket around him. He waited for the usual taunting through the windows. He was surprised it stayed quiet. He could still hear many of them flying around yelling outside. He wished there was a way to muffle their noise through the broken glass. He wondered why they didn’t bother them that night. His eyes grew tired. He laid the shotgun on the floor and nodded off. Minutes after he closed his eyes, he heard a woman’s whispery voice call out in the room.

“Shaun,” said the voice.

He opened his eyes. He sat up and looked around the room. Everyone was still sleeping. He looked out the windows through the blinds. No one was there.
Am I imagining things?
he asked himself. He lay down and pulled his blanket up. He closed his eyes. He knew it wasn’t a dream. It was a woman’s voice. He heard it as clear as day.
Who was it? What does she want? How does she know my name?
he wondered.

“Shaun,” the voice whispered loudly.

He stood up, grabbing the shotgun. He quietly walked to the double doors and stepped out to the foyer. He opened the door. No one was there.

Am I losing it?
he wondered.

He closed the door and walked back to his bed.

“Over here, Shaun,” the voice whispered loudly again.

He began to feel scared. It was a distinct voice but he was the only one who could hear it.

“I’m over here,” said the voice. “Come find me.”

He felt anxious. His began to breathe heavy. The voice went away. He let out a sigh of relief and lay down again. The voice didn’t come back. He fell asleep.

***

The next day, Thai and Trang were on the sixty ninth level. There was a gym set up. The equipment was used by the employees of the bank tower before the end came. Thai and Trang sparred with kickboxing. They each wore padded gear for the head and torso and boxing gloves. Yuri approached them and watched. He was impressed. They stopped for a break. Yuri clapped. Thai and Trang panted and opened their water bottles.

“You fight well,” said Yuri.

“Thank you,” said Thai.

“Kickboxing?” asked Yuri.

“Wushu,” said Trang.

“My father and I have sparred since I was little,” said Thai.

“What is Wushu?” asked Yuri.

Trang spoke in Vietnamese to Thai.

“My father said it’s a combination of stances, kicks, punches, balances, jumps, sweeps and throws.”

“Impressive,” said Yuri.

“Do you study?” asked Trang.

“Me? No,” said Yuri. “In Russia, to defend ourselves, we break bottle of vodka over their head and throw them out window.”

They broke out in laughter.

“It’s true!” said Yuri.

The laughter calmed down.

“It’s too bad your training not effective against vampire,” said Yuri.

Thai and Trang glanced at each other.

“You don’t think I would have a chance?” asked Thai.

“No” said Yuri.

“How can they be that strong?” asked Thai.

“They are immortal. Our laws of physics mean nothing to them,” Yuri answered.

“What if my father and I took one by surprise?” asked Thai.

“They would rip your hearts from your bodies,” said Yuri. “And then use your blood for cocktail beverage.”

***

In the kitchen, Kim and Ni helped Betty put away dishes. Mercedes read a children’s book at the table. She had a few dolls on the table next to her. Betty enjoyed their company, they were nice ladies and didn’t mind helping. They were well-mannered, humble people and didn’t like to stress about things. Betty turned on the dishwasher.

“Kim. What does your mother like to do for fun?” asked Betty. “She’s so quiet.”

“She likes to crochet,” answered Kim.

Ni stopped to listen. She wished she understood English better. 

“I’ve got just the thing,” said Betty.

She directed them to another room near the kitchen. Betty opened a chest full of crochet tools, different colored yarns and sewing accessories. Ni and Kim looked at Betty with excitement.

“The craft store didn’t need them anymore,” said Betty.

They laughed.

***

Tommy sat on a sofa drawing a picture; Betty and Kim tidied up the kitchen in the background.  Chris came around a corner with a sneaky grin.

“Tommy. C’m ’ere,” Chris whispered.

Tommy rushed over to him.

“What?” asked Tommy.

“We’re gonna have some fun,” said Chris. “Let’s go.”

They rushed out of the building and ran down the street. They turned a corner jogged down another street in between two buildings. Chris came to a stop, panting.

“What is it?” asked Tommy.

Chris looked around and pulled out one of Harold’s pistols from his waistline. It was one of Harold’s guns from his cabinet, a 45 caliber.

“Check it out,” said Chris.

“Whoa!” said Tommy. “Is it loaded?”

“You bet your ass,” answered Chris, pulling out a loaded magazine.

He loaded the magazine back in.

“What are you gonna do?” asked Tommy.

“Watch this,” said Chris.

He aimed the gun at a sedan up the street from them. It was broken down with flat tires and broken windows. Chris fired. The windshield spider webbed. They broke out in laughter.

“Sweet!” hollered Chris.

“Awesome,” said Tommy. “Do it again. Do it again.”

Chris aimed at the car again. He fired. The rear driver window and the rear window shattered. They laughed again.

“This is so bad ass!” said Chris.

“I want to try. I want to do it,” said Tommy.

“You’re not cool enough, dude,” said Chris. “You’re just a kid.”

He pulled out a pack of cigarettes, lit one up and took a drag.

“Ah, c’mon. I want to try,” Tommy begged.

Chris blew his smoke at him.

“Let’s have a coolness test first,” said Chris.

“Okay,” said Tommy.

“You have to tell me the names of three awesome rock bands.”

Tommy thought hard but was blank.

“I don’t know any,” said Tommy.

“Then I guess you ain’t shooting,” answered Chris.

Chris turned and fired again with his smoke hanging out of his mouth. A headlight shattered.

“C’mon nerd. Think hard,” said Chris.

Tommy still couldn’t think of any. Chris directed his attention to the name on his shirt. It said
Metallica
.

“Muh-tell-uh-ka?” asked Tommy.

Chris rolled his eyes.

“The way you said that was blasphemy.”

Chris pointed to a tattoo on his arm. It said,
AC/DC
.

“Ay-see-dee-see?” asked Tommy.

“That’s two, geek. You need one more,” said Chris.

“I don’t know any, Chris.”

“Fine, fine. You can shoot. I get your dessert for the next week though, butthole,” said Chris.

He got behind Tommy and put the gun in his hands.

“Hold it tight with both hands. Aim at the car,” said Chris.

Tommy held it steady.

“Now pull the trigger!” said Chris.

Tommy fired but missed the car.

“Did I get it?” asked Tommy.

“Nope. Try again,” said Chris.

Tommy fired. The other headlight shattered. They laughed.

“Sweetness!” said Chris.

***

The night came. Shaun waited up as usual with the shotgun. The vampires stayed away again. He could hear them faintly outside the windows. The others were sleeping. He looked at the clock on the wall. It was almost one o’clock in the morning. He was anxious to hear the woman’s voice call out his name again. He thought about it the whole day. His eyes became tired and he nodded off.

“Shaun,” said the woman’s voice.

His eyes opened. He stood up, fully alert. He was determined to find the source of this mysterious voice. He quietly took one of Mr. Jones’ crucifixes and stuffed it in a pocket. He held on to the shotgun and left the room. The foyer was empty. There was nothing but sofas against the wall. He looked out the windows. No one was there.

“I’m over here, Shaun,” said the voice.

“Where are you?” he whispered.

“I’m here. Come to me,” she whispered.

His heart began to pound. He wasn’t sure what to do. He went to the elevators and descended. He felt ill at ease, he didn’t know what he was getting into. He was curious to find out who was calling him.

He came out to the foyer on level sixty-eight. He looked around. No one was there. He watched a light breeze come through the broken windows causing the blinds to gently move. He saw something out one of the windows. He drew closer. It was a vampire wearing a black hooded robe over a white evening gown. Its back was turned to the window. It was weeping and sounded like a woman. He filled with anxiety drawing closer to the window.

The vampire dropped her hood. Her long, brunette hair was very familiar to him. She turned around and stared into his eyes. It was Sharon! She looked devilishly gorgeous. Her large, piercing blue eyes with white-rimmed irises were terrifying. She wiped a tear away. Her face was pale white. Her deep red, sensual lips were breathtaking. Her shapely figure underneath her evening gown hovered hundreds of feet in the air.

“Hi,” she said in a loud whisper.

He didn’t answer but gazed at her with frightened eyes. She floated closer to the window. 

“It’s been so long,” she said.

He was still speechless. She backed away a little from the blinds.

“Sharon?” he asked.

“I miss you. So bad,” she said.

“I’ve missed you,” said Shaun.

Sharon started to weep again.

“What’s wrong?”

“I need you, Shaun.”

He didn’t answer. He felt total and complete compassion towards her.

“Let me in so we can be a family again,” she wept.

He gazed at her, feeling himself fall under a spell. It was as if a powerful, painless, unseen force came through the glass and consumed him. He gently shook his head and gripped his crucifix in his hoodie pocket but couldn’t bring himself to put it in her face. Despite her terrifying countenance, it comforted him to speak to her.

“How did you know I was here?” he asked.

“I smelled you.”

“You mean blood,” said Shaun.

“You’re more to me than blood,” said Sharon. “Let me in. We’ll be eternal lovers.”

He gazed at her and released his tight grip on his crucifix inside his pocket. He was tranquilized by her powerful stare and his desires for his woman. He was still in love with her and wanted a cure for his loneliness from the loss of his wife whom he deeply missed.

“Just you?” he asked.

“Just me.”

“I want to,” he said.

“Let me in,” said Sharon.

“The blinds will hurt you,” said Shaun.

“If you let me in, they can’t hurt me.”

“There’s other people,” he said.

“I won’t hurt them,” she said, making an evil grin. “I promise.”

She could tell he was slipping under her power. He thought about it for a long moment.

“I can’t,” said Shaun.

Her face sunk.

“Please,” she said, reaching her hand out, but she jerked it back because of the fumes from the blinds.

“You need to go,” said Shaun.

“But don’t you want to talk to me?” she asked.

“Yes,” he said.

“Stay with me,” she said.

“I can’t,” he said.

“Come back tomorrow night then,” she said. “Same time.”

He glanced at a clock. It was almost two o’clock in the morning.

“Okay. I will,” he said, backing away to the elevators.

Sharon flew away. Shaun was overwhelmed as he headed back to the top floor in the elevator. He didn’t know if he made an extraordinary discovery or was just being a damned fool.

***

The next morning, Shaun drove the Ferrari into the underground parking terrace. Harold was in the passenger seat.

“I don’t know why we didn’t do this sooner,” said Harold. “It’s the last car we have with keys.”

“I don’t understand it. They’ve never bothered the cars before,” said Shaun.