Fall of the Mortals (Book 1) (30 page)

“I said this is my bus and you’re not taking it!” Shaun hollered.

Derek swung ferociously at Shaun but Shaun vanished and appeared behind Derek. He kicked Derek in the leg bringing him down to a knee then forced him to his back. Shaun pulled out a cloth-padded wooden knife and held it up as if he were going to strike.

“It’s a wooden knife! Back off!” Shaun shouted at Derek’s two punk rocker friends who were looking for an angle to attack Shaun.

“Stay back!” Derek hollered, afraid of the wooden knife.

“Do you want to die?” Shaun asked Derek.

Derek filled with fear. His face looked scared but he tried to be tough glaring at Shaun. Shaun remembered the awfulness he felt for killing the last three vampires. He didn’t want to experience that again.

“Do you want to die?” Shaun shouted.

“No. Please don’t!” Derek pleaded.

“Don’t you ever come here again,” said Shaun in a threatening tone. “This is my bus! You got that? I don’t want to kill you but I will.”

Derek struggled to get out of Shaun’s clench but it was no use.

“Do you get me!” shouted Shaun.

“I get it,” Derek answered as he stopped resisting.

“Now take them and go away!” said Shaun.

“We’re leaving,” Derek answered.

Shaun let Derek up slowly. He turned and glared at Shaun for a moment but flew away with the two vampires. Shaun sighed in relief. His eyes watered. A tear rolled down his cheek, relieved he didn’t have to kill more vampires and experience the horrible hell it put him through previously. He knew the final conflict rested with Kristof and his brothers.
Am I going to be able to kill Kristof and the others to save the tower family? Will I be fully changed and forget Harold and the rest of them that are depending on me? What if I completely lose myself and forget about them all together?
he thought. 

***

Another loud party was going on at Kristof’s mansion. Vampires were everywhere like before. The music seemed louder with more bass. The windows vibrated as if they were all about to shatter. Shaun entered the home. The dance floor was crowded again with the usual guests. Vampires danced wildly and sensually together, some of them putting their bodies closely against one another, bumping and grinding, feeling each other up sexually. There were even blinding strobe lights flashing from above.

Kristof and his brothers flew down from the upper level landing beside Shaun.

“Look! It’s our honored guest!” Kristof hollered to Shaun over the loud music.

“Where have you been? We’ve been looking all over for you!” Lucian hollered with a sour face.

“Just flying around out there,” Shaun answered, hoping they didn’t suspect anything.

“See anything interesting?” asked Seth with a stern face as if they knew what he had been up to.

“Not really,” Shaun responded, trying to keep calm.

“We did,” said Adrian with a cold stare.

Shaun felt scared. His stomach filled with butterflies since they were all staring at him. He feared they knew the truth. He clenched a fist, preparing to strike Kristof first.

“Come with us!” said Kristof, flying over Shaun and heading outside.

Shaun felt relief knowing he misunderstood them and followed them through the air outside.

***

Kristof, Shaun and the brothers landed on the roof of the mansion. Nikki, a female vampire who looked in her twenties stood on the roof staring at the sky. Her skin was pale white. She wore a black hooded robe, black lipstick and heavy mascara. She had an albino cobra snake around her neck which she held gently in her hands. There was a baby albino cobra around each of her wrists which slithered in circular motion.  Shaun was uncomfortable at the sight of Nikki. He wasn’t expecting a beautiful woman wreathed in deadly serpents.

“Same prediction?” Kristof asked Nikki.

Nikki caressed the head of the cobra for a moment and brought it close to her lips.

“Tell me your secrets,” she whispered to the snake which fluttered its tongue.

She raised its head up with one hand and waved her other palm in the air slowly.

“Tell me your secrets,” she said again softly to the snake.

Kristof, Shaun and the others stood back and watched her.

“What do you see?” asked Lucian. 

“Tell us,” stated Seth impatiently.

“Patience, brothers,” said Kristof in a soft rebuke. “We want our forecast to be accurate.”

“Four days,” Nikki answered, turning to them, the head of the cobra drawing near to Shaun.

“What happens in four days?” asked Shaun, trying not to look uncomfortable as the snake fluttered its tongue on his cheek.

“Lightning cometh,” she answered. “With heavy rain,” she added looking at Shaun, widening her eyes. She stepped away from him which released him from the snake’s terrible closeness.

“Incredible gift,” stated Adrian, impressed.

Shaun looked at Kristof not knowing what to say.

“Is that not good news?” said Kristof, staring at Shaun with a grin, expecting him to be impressed.

“Very good indeed,” Shaun answered, hiding his true feelings of being stressed as hell, knowing it wasn’t much time to execute his
real
plan.

“So, we’ll be drinking the blood of the last of the mortals in four days,” said Kristof, warmly placing his hand on Shaun’s shoulder. “All thanks to you.”

“Let us throw a party in his honor, brother,” said Lucian.

“Indeed,” Kristof answered.

Shaun smirked, still speechless. His stomach churned inside with anxiety. He knew he had much to do before his real plan could be executed.

***

Shaun went to his room in Kristof’s mansion which was located in the guest wing. He opened the door. Someone grabbed him and threw him on the bed. Shaun landed on his back and looked up.

“Did you forget about me?” asked Alessandra, floating over him, looking at him sensually.

“No, of course not,” Shaun answered, taken with her romantic behavior.

“Good, because I thought maybe you did,” she said, licking her upper lip, opening his button up shirt to expose his chest. She ran her fingernails down the middle of his chest slowly and placed herself in a straddling position on top of him.

“Wow,” said Shaun.

“Wow?” she asked in a whispery voice. “That’s all you have to say?”

“You’re just so crazy for me and sexual,” said Shaun quietly. “I like it.”

Alessandra ripped his shirt off, threw it on the floor and leaned down, 

kissing him passionately. She licked the side of his face, his ear, his neck,    arousing Shaun to the point of no return. He wanted her. She bit his chin gently using the tip of her tongue to lick the top of his neck.

“The lights,” said Shaun, breathing heavily.

Alessandra waved her hand making the lights fade. It was a long, passionate and romantic night for Shaun and Alessandra.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Yuri’s New Deadly Weapon

The morning came. Terry woke up on a sofa in their living area. A meth pipe was on his chest. It fell to the floor as he put his feet down and sat up. He glared an evil stare trying to get his thoughts in order for the day. He went to the restroom and stared in the mirror. His face looked awful. The bags under his eyes were worse. His skin looked pale. He had a crazed look in his eyes from playing Mr. Hostage Takeover
. Who the freak am I? I don’t know who this person is that I’m looking at. Who the hell are you?
he thought, looking in the mirror. He washed his face and looked at himself again, hating what he saw.

Terry knew he had no direction and that he didn’t know what he was doing. He had turned into some crazed, aggravated kidnapper overnight. He just knew he had a horrible addiction and the dope supply was running low. His only ambition was to do what it took to get more supplies to prolong his life to make more drugs and then to use the drugs. He didn’t care who he stepped on, who got in his way or who he had to put down. All that mattered was his high that told him the world was taken over by monsters and it didn’t matter.

Curtis was out cold on another sofa. He was still having a power nap from dope. His pipe was on the floor near his hand where it dangled off the side of his couch.

Terry ran his hands through his hair walking across the living room to his meth lab. He sat in a chair in front of the lab looking around in a lazy stare. He checked the top of the table for more dope in plastic baggies. There was none. He grew frustrated checking the floor beneath the lab but finding no more dope he had made at his table top meth lab.

“Crystal? Where the hell is my crystal?” he mumbled, moving trash out of his way that was left in disarray under the table. “Where is my damn crystal?” said Terry, still looking all over the floor for any traces of crystal, dope or anything that could get him high. There was none to be found.

“Where is my damn crystal!” Terry shouted, swatting more trash out of his way, violently losing his temper, breathing heavily. He looked scared.

Curtis awoke, startled, and watched Terry crawl around the floor like a dog searching for his bone.

“Terry, man? What the hell, dude?” asked Curtis.

“I can’t find my damn crystal!” Terry yelled, his eyes full of rage.

Curtis leaped off the couch, rushed over to Terry and struck him in the face. Terry fell back to the floor and wept.

“Snap out of it, dude!” hollered Curtis, trying to help him.

Terry went into the shakes still breathing heavily through his teeth. Curtis rushed to his sofa, loaded up his glass pipe with crystal and lit it up for Terry. He helped Terry sit up and gave him the meth pipe.

“Here, man. Take it. Take it in, bro,” said Curtis, putting the pipe to Terry’s lips.

Terry inhaled the meth. He exhaled and started to calm down, slipping into bliss. He began to smile knowing he escaped the awful withdrawals of his true love, crystal methamphetamines.

“You okay?” asked Curtis

Terry lay there staring at the ceiling, not responding.

“Are you okay?” Curtis hollered, smacking Terry across the face. “Talk to me!”

“I’m okay dammit!” Terry shouted trying to catch his breath. He sat up breathing heavily, his hands shaking.

“We’re low on dope, man,” said Curtis.

Terry put his hand over his forehead trying to think of a plan.

“The water is low too, brother,” said Curtis. “It’s down to ammo only around here. We can hold off Harold and those guys but if the vamps get in, we’re screwed.”

“That’s it,” said Terry.

“What is?” asked Curtis.

“We don’t use water anymore,” said Terry. “C’mon, let’s get the Russian guy.”

***

Yuri and the others lay asleep on the floor. Terry and Curtis walked up to Yuri holding their machine gun, glaring down at him.

“Yuri,” said Terry impatiently.

Yuri didn’t move.

“Yuri!” Terry hollered leaning toward him.

Yuri still didn’t budge. He was out cold.

“Hey, wake up! I’m talking to you!” hollered Terry, nudging Yuri’s chest with his boot.

Yuri woke and saw Terry and Curtis standing over him.

“Get up, dude,” said Curtis in a crusty tone.

“What is it?” asked Yuri, intimidated.

“Come with us to your lab,” said Terry. “I want to talk to you about something.”

Harold and the others woke up. Harold stared at Yuri with a worried face.

“I said get up, man!” Terry ordered, pulling on Yuri’s arm.

“Just go with them, Yuri,” said Harold, trying to be reassuring. “It’ll be okay.”

“Billy? Shane? You guys keep an eye on the rest of them,” said Terry as he and Curtis escorted Yuri out of the room.

Billy and Shane gripped their guns and gave Harold and the others a cold stare.

“How long is this going to go on, guys?” asked Harold sternly.

Billy and Shane didn’t respond. They glanced at Harold coldly and looked away.

“Are you just going to keep letting Terry control both of you like this?” asked Harold.

“He doesn’t control us,” said Billy sharply.

“Oh no?” asked Harold. “You tell me right now, Terry and Curtis are in the right holding everybody hostage. Look around you, this is madness, boys.”

“Terry is keeping things safe,” said Shane in a sharp tone.

“He shot Shaun!” Harold hollered.

“Shaun was a vampire!” Billy yelled.

“No one knew that!” Harold shouted. “Shaun being a vampire was something new to all of us. It was something that happened recently. I’m sure of it.”

“You don’t know that any more than we do,” Shane responded in a hard tone.

“Shaun had problems only a few days before he departed,” said Harold. “Something happened there along the way.”

“Well, you know what? I think Shaun was planning something bad the whole time,” said Billy. “Mark told us he caught Shaun wandering around the lower levels in the middle of the night once.”

“Meaning what?” asked Harold.

“Shaun was talking to ’em,” said Shane.

“Who?” asked Harold.

“The vampires,” said Shane.

“You don’t have any proof,” Harold replied.

“Why else would he be one of them?” asked Billy. “And I tell you something else. The night Mark supposedly
committed suicide
was a night he went on one of his strolls. Just like when he found Shaun down there the first time,” he added in a stern voice.

“What are you saying? You’re accusing Shaun of being responsible for Mark’s death?” Harold blurted as if they were insane.

“It makes sense to us,” Billy responded.

“This is outrageous,” said Harold. “But it comes back to square one, fellas. Shaun isn’t here now. How long do you think we’re going to keep this up?” he added, stepping towards them.

“As long as it takes,” Shane answered coldly, aiming his gun at Harold. “Now stand down.”

“So, that’s it, huh? Terry and Curtis get to lie around getting loaded on dope whenever they please while you two guys play guard dog?” Harold asked, trying to incite them.

Billy and Shane glanced at each other. It almost looked like they knew Harold was right but would never admit it.

“Well? Isn’t that the case?” Harold asked in a firm tone.

“Just shut up, man, and sit down,” said Billy.

Harold stepped back carefully and sat next to Betty.

***

Terry, Curtis and Yuri approached his lab. Yuri was scared. He didn’t know what they wanted, whether they were going to force him to do something, beat him badly or just shoot him.

“So this is the place, huh?” asked Terry.

“What?” Yuri responded.

“Where you outsmarted those fanged bastards?” Terry asked with a grin as if he was Yuri’s buddy.

“My serum was a good result of studying for many hours,” Yuri replied. “Yes.”

“Good because you know what you’re going to do next, college boy?” asked Terry.

“What?” asked Yuri.

“Excel in your career as weapons specialist,” said Terry, trying not to be too intimidating.

“I don’t understand,” said Yuri.

Terry took a handful of beads out of one of the five gallon buckets and poured them back in slowly. He noticed a sword lying on the counter.

“Wow! Sweet dude!” said Terry, holding the sword up with two hands, swinging it gently then checking the sharpness of the blade. “You like swords, huh?”

“It’s been in my family for years,” Yuri responded.

“Did you put the stuff on it, man?” asked Terry.

“Yes but I never tested it,” Yuri answered.

“Freaking sweet,” said Terry, admiring the sword as he laid it back on the counter.

“What is it you want me to do?” asked Yuri.

“Blinds? Not a bad idea bud but now it’s time for something a little more proactive,” said Terry, stepping up to Yuri.

“What do you mean?” asked Yuri.

“I’m talking about bullets, dude!” said Terry as he slammed a magazine full of ammo on his desk. “Put your serum on these, man. We’ll take the fight right to them.”

“I’m not sure this will work,” said Yuri, picking up the magazine and looking at it closely.

“Well, do it anyway. We’ll find out soon enough,” Curtis responded in a hard tone. “I’ll wait here if you want to head back up to seventy-two, Terry.”

“Copy that,” Terry responded as he left. 

Yuri looked at Curtis not knowing what to say.

“What are you looking at, dude? Get to work,” said Curtis, still crusty, holding his machine gun.

“Right,” said Yuri in a cooperative tone picking up a handful of white rose pedals out of a five gallon bucket and putting them into a blender. “Here goes,” he added turning it on.

***

In the U.S.S. Kentucky, Stanton sat in one of the cabins alone rubbing one of the buttons on his navy blue admiral jacket which was well decorated with stars and pins over the left breast. He glanced at his nickel plated sidearm, a loaded .45 caliber.

Stanton put on his white admiral hat, stood up and looked in a mirror, which hung over a small dresser. A bottle of whiskey and a CD player sat on top of the dresser. He stared at himself trying hard not to think of the horrible loss of the U.S.S. Kennedy to the flying fanged savages that brutally killed all of his crew. Then the worst part. He jumped ship to save himself. The memories tore at him like iron claws. His eyes watered. Tears ran down his face as he began to hate the sight of himself in the mirror.
I’m a failure. I’m a worthless, horrible, horrible failure
, he thought.

He pulled the cork from the whiskey and turned on the CD player. The sad song
I’ll Be There
by The Escape Club played. Stanton turned the music up because he didn’t want the rest of the crew to hear what he was going to do next. He took a long drink. He put the bottle back on the dresser. It fell over, whiskey spilled out. Stanton watched the liquor pool on the dresser top then spill off the edge. He scoffed, not able to care about small messes let alone himself. He pulled his sidearm and put it in his mouth. The barrel rested in between his top and bottom teeth. He stared at himself in the mirror and was disgusted at what he saw. He cocked the hammer back. His finger went over the trigger. He stared at himself some more. Thoughts of his wife, daughter and son were who were dead were haunting him. His stare became more intense and he pressed down on the trigger. His face cringed as he anticipated the bullet to blow the back of his head off.

Stanton took the gun out of his mouth, snapped the hammer and wept. He couldn’t do it. The tears showered his face in his self-created state of misery. There was a pounding at his cabin door. He dried his face and geared up more courage.

“Yes?” said Stanton answering the door.

“Sir, Captain Hansen would like to see you in his quarters,” said the sailor messenger in a militant tone.

“I’m on my way,” Stanton responded.

“Yes sir,” said the sailor.

***

Hansen sat in an elaborate cabin which was decked out with monitor screens. President Campbell was on one of them; Admiral Lennox was on another. Stanton entered.

“Admiral, you’re just in time,” said Hansen. “I have the president and Lennox on live comm. They’re wanting a status report.”

“Mr. President. Admiral Lennox,” said Stanton with a nod of respect, sitting down slowly knowing the report would be difficult to give.

“Stanton? Can you give us the disposition of the attack on the Kennedy?” asked Campbell appearing concerned and eager.

“The status is, um...”