Slayers (Jake Hawkins Book 1) (5 page)

He hit the balcony on his rear. All the force from the impact shot straight up his tailbone, making him grunt in shock. But there was no time to focus on the pain.

The creature had backed off and was clutching its leg. It let out a low hiss as he rose to his feet.

He had to act now. Fighting his urge to get as far away as possible, he shoulder-charged the creature. It stumbled backward, thrown off-balance by his strike. But it wasn
’
t enough. It halted after a few steps, stopped by the bannister. Leaning against it.

Jake had an idea.

The bannister was made up of thin wooden columns, with a thick railing running over the top. The wood was old, musty and wet; possibly unstable.

Before the creature had a chance to recover, he hit it with a front-kick, putting everything he had into the blow. The kick connected with the middle of its chest, exactly where he had planned. Instantly, there was a groan and the bannister gave way under the force. He watched in enormous relief as the creature went toppling back over the edge, along with fragments of the wooden railing.

Jake didn
’
t have time to see it hit the concrete. He was already working on his escape.

He grabbed a section of the broken railing. With a heave, he tugged it away, ripping a metre-long piece of thick wood from the bannister. He turned and aimed it at the door. The makeshift battering ram would break the glass, and from inside the apartment he would work out how to escape.

There had to be a way. He charged.

And barely made it two steps.

Something smashed into him from behind with unbelievable power. It shook his entire body from head to toe. The wooden ram slipped out of his palms. Only as he was propelled through the air did he realise he had been tackled. The realisation struck just before he was thrust front-first into the glass door, carried by the momentum.

It shattered upon impact. Being thrown through glass was nothing like he had seen in the movies. The collision knocked all the breath from his lungs. He ploughed into the apartment amongst a cacophony of breaking glass. Shards scattered across the floor.

He was in too much pain to move. The sharp edges of the broken glass had cut him in over a dozen places, blood was flowing freely from the puncture wounds in his neck, and he was winded. He lay on his back, helpless, and watched as the creature advanced towards him. It took slow, tentative steps, savouring its victory. Its shoes creaked against the floor.

Jake grimaced as it stood over him. He tried to rise, to no avail. The creature snarled and raised a hand high into the air. Its claws were aimed at his throat. He closed his eyes. Terror completely overrode his system.

So this is what it feels like to die,
he thought.

There was a squelching sound, but oddly no pain. Then he was spattered with some kind of warm liquid.

There was still no pain. He opened his eyes. The blood that had hit him was not his.

The creature was still standing above him, but it was frozen, motionless. Black blood covered its face. A few seconds went by before he registered the bullet hole in the middle of its forehead. As soon as he did, it lost its balance and toppled over. Accompanied by the sound of breaking glass, its body thumped into the floor.

Jake stared into its lifeless eyes before he instinctively rolled away, using one last burst of energy to put as much distance as he could between them. There was no need. It was dead.

He lay there, covered in its blood, panting for breath. He was having trouble comprehending what had just happened.

There was a crash from the deck outside and Jake raised his head, groggy with fatigue, to see a figure land nimbly on the balcony.

“
Oh, please, not again,
”
he whispered.

It was a man. The guy was dressed in a long-sleeved shirt, tucked into military-issue combat pants. In his hand, he carried a sleek black pistol with an attached suppressor. Rain dripped off the smoking barrel; it had just been used. A utility belt strapped around his waist held an assortment of knives and guns. His long brown hair was tied back into a ponytail.

He strode into the apartment and pressed a combat boot into the creature
’
s back. With a flick, the body rolled over. It was a grisly sight. The bullet hole was pouring blood. The man acknowledged it was dead with a satisfactory nod.

He noticed Jake was injured, dropped the pistol, crouched down and touched a finger to the open wound on his neck. It brought on a wave of nausea.

“
You should count yourself lucky,
”
the man said.
“
If those claws had gone any deeper, you
’
d be a dead man.
”

“
What
’
s going on?
”
Jake said.

“
You
’
ve been attacked.
”

“
Who are you?
”

“
Call me Wolfe.
”

“
I
’
m, uh
—
I
’
m Jake.
”

“
Nice to meet you, Jake. Now get up.
”
There was urgency in his tone.

“
What the hell is that thing?
”

“
Not now. If you don
’
t mind, I
’
ll save explanations for later.
”

“
Why?
”

“
Listen, kid, what part of later don
’
t you understand? I need to get you out of here before
–”

The roof of the apartment gave way, raining down plaster onto the floor, accompanied by the sound of floorboards being ripped apart. As the dust settled, Jake saw a man-sized hole had been smashed through the ceiling. Crouching on the floor opposite them was a second creature, practically identical to the first except for the missing patch of skin. It too wore battered old clothes that were barely holding themselves together.

“–
before that happens,
”
Wolfe finished.

The creature
’
s beady eyes darted up and scanned the room. When it noticed its dead comrade, it let out of a howl.

Jake saw Wolfe glance over to where he had left his pistol, on the floor behind the creature. Out of reach. The man swore in frustration.

“
Stay on the ground!
”
he yelled before charging at the creature with blinding speed.

Jake had never seen anyone move so fast. At the same time, the creature squatted down on its haunches, tensed up and pounced. He watched in awe, spine tingling. It simply cocked itself like a loaded gun, then shot across the room.

Wolfe was ready.

The two collided. Wolfe brought one shoulder up and slammed it into the creature
’
s chest. The momentum from both parties sent them clattering to the ground. The creature began to scuttle to its feet. By that time, Wolfe was already up. He had jumped to his feet in an instant and was now one step ahead.

It was all he needed.

Jake watched him bring a fist down into the creature
’
s face so hard that its whole neck snapped backwards. It hissed and slashed back in frustration. The claws on its right hand slashed through the air faster than Jake
’
s eyes could follow. Wolfe
’
s obviously could, for he ducked underneath the swing, grabbed the creature
’
s jacket, tugged it towards him and gave it a powerful knee to the stomach.

Each strike seemed strong enough to kill a man, but the creature was hardly fazed by them. It doubled over from the knee. Wolfe hesitated.

It whipped its head up so fast that he had no time to avoid it. Their two heads clashed together like bowling bowls and Wolfe stumbled, dazed from the impact. The creature sensed its opportunity and crouched down. Jake saw it preparing to pounce again. He opened his mouth to shout a warning.

But Wolfe already knew. He continued to retreat until his feet touched the back of an overturned desk chair, then he stopped, waiting for the creature to pounce like a matador egging on a raging bull.

It burst up off the floor towards him.

As soon as it did, Wolfe brought the chair around in a wide arc with his left hand. He couldn
’
t have timed it any better. The bulk of the chair hit the creature in mid-air and it broke in two, sending wooden splinters flying in all directions. The strength behind the swing had smashed the creature off-course, literally knocking it sideways through the air. It was too stunned to land properly, and instead hit the ground on its side, rolling right past Jake. He tried to move away, but the blood loss was affecting his co-ordination. The room lurched as he kicked across the wooden floor.

It started to get up. Jake sensed an opportunity. Wolfe
’
s pistol was within reach, now that he had moved away. He leant over and snatched it off the floor.

“
Here!
”
he shouted, before tossing it into the air.

Wolfe turned and caught the gun by the handle. The creature was preparing for another pounce behind him.

On one heel, Wolfe swung the pistol and spun round, barrel raised. He put a bullet right through its skull. Jake flinched when the gun went off the first time, but looked on in a mixture of fascination and relief as Wolfe fired another three times, dotting a line of holes across the creature
’
s chest. It crashed back into one of the desks and lay still, well and truly dead.

After the racket of the fight, the room lapsed into eerie silence.

“
Are you okay?
”
Wolfe said.

“
I
…
think so. What about you?
”

“
That knock to the head hurt like hell. But don
’
t worry about me. I
’
ve been doing this a long time.
”

Jake allowed his head to fall back onto the floor and, oddly, couldn
’
t resist a smile. He was safe.

“
What the hell is going on,
”
he whispered to himself.

“
You
’
ll find out. First, let
’
s get out of here.
”

Wolfe extended a hand. Jake took it, and was helped to his feet. Suddenly, his vision went haywire. White stars expanded across the room as all the blood drained from his temple. Then nothingness.

He came to groggily.

Bright lights shone down from above. For a moment, he thought he was in the hospital. Everything was blurry. As his surroundings came into focus, Jake
’
s eyes widened in surprise.

He was in a room at least twice the size of his old apartment. The marble floor stretched on into the distance, ending abruptly at a row of floor-to-ceiling windows that provided a view of the yard, which was itself large enough to hold a near Olympic-sized lap pool. It was dark outside, with nothing but a soft yellow floodlight illuminating the water. Above the windows sat a flat-screen television built into the wall. It had to be at least a hundred inches.

Jake found he was lying on a couch that looked like it could seat over twenty people. It stretched in a U-shape around a thick oak coffee table with laptops and hard drives sprawled across the surface. He was propped up on satin pillows in the corner of the couch. The plush material had adjusted to his body shape. He was comfortable.

He took his outstretched legs off the couch and placed them on the floor. They felt a little shaky. A hand to his neck revealed the bandages wrapped around it. The wounds were still throbbing. He had been too preoccupied with trying to make sense of his surroundings, but now memories came flooding back.

Had it been a dream?

His thoughts were interrupted by a voice.
“
How are you feeling?
”

The man who had saved him was standing right behind the couch, dressed in a pair of jeans and a loose-fitting V-neck shirt. The ponytail had disappeared and his hair was hanging down by his shoulders.

“
Sorry,
”
the man said.
“
I shouldn
’
t have snuck up on you like that.
”

Jake struggled to remain calm.
“
Yeah, um, who are you? What was your name?
”

“
I don
’
t use my real name anymore. I got rid of it a long time ago.
”

There was a pause.
“
Okay
…”

“
This probably feels strange.
”

“
Yeah.
”
Jake remembered a name.
Wolfe
. Was that it?

“
And I
’
m sure you have a lot of questions.
”

“
Obviously.
”

Wolfe held up a hand.
“
I
’
m going to ask you to hold off on those for a minute. Things must be confusing. I just want you to know, before we jump into things, that as soon as I
’
m done answering whatever you want to know, I
’
ll take you straight back home. I
’
m not holding you here against your will. I have no intention of hurting you.
”

Jake nodded his understanding. He already knew Wolfe meant no harm; if the man had bad intentions he would have left him for dead in that apartment.

“
What happened wasn
’
t a dream, was it?
”
Jake asked. He still had a sliver of hope.

Wolfe shook his head.
“
No, I can assure you that everything that happened was very real. Unfortunately.
”

“
And what exactly
did
happen?
”

“
You had a run-in with a slayer.
”

Jake said nothing. It was like he had entered an alternate universe where nothing made sense.

“
Sorry, let me backtrack,
”
Wolfe said.
“
That thing that attacked you. Pale. Bald. Claws. I take it you remember.
”

“
I remember.
”

“
We call them slayers
–”

“
Who
’
s we?
”

“
I
’
ll get to that. There
’
s a lot of information you
’
re going to have to digest. Hold back on the questions for the minute. You can fire away later.
”

“
Okay.
”

“
Slayers. It
’
s a nickname we made for them and it stuck. They are
–
well, at least they were
–
human. There
’
s a virus running through their bloodstream. It turns them. Transforms them from perfectly ordinary people, just like you and me, into what you saw last night. It supercharges their muscles, gives them strength and power far greater than the normal. The virus turns their brain to mush. They lose the capacity to think rationally, to speak languages. They become total carnivores.
”

“
What are you talking about?
”
Jake said in disbelief.

“
We are their main food source.
”

“
Who?
”

“
Humans. Melbourne
…
is infested with slayers. This is where the virus first broke out. Ground zero. We
’
ve had reports of it spreading to other states, maybe even overseas, but we don
’
t know if they
’
re true.
”

Jake couldn
’
t help himself. He laughed.
“
This is such crap.
”

“
I would have been surprised if you had believed me.
”

“
Of course I don
’
t.
”
He felt angry now. All he wanted to do was go home.
“
Y-You drugged me or something. This didn
’
t happen. Do you expect me to believe that I went on a wild goose chase from a couple of monsters? Just let me out of here before I call the cops.
”

“
You might want to check your phone,
”
Wolfe said softly.

“
What?
”

“
I was watching you the whole time. I saw everything from the roof, but I didn
’
t have a good shot until it had you in the apartment. Otherwise, I would have saved you sooner. But I saw you take a photo, Jake. That
’
s how you first saw it, am I right? With the flash?
”

Jake gulped. He remembered the silhouette, hovering at the end of the alleyway. Without saying a word, he slipped his hand into his jacket pocket and took out his phone. It was damaged
–
several long jagged cracks ran end-to-end across the screen
–
but still functional. He unlocked it and tapped the
‘
photos
’
icon. Sure enough, the last photo showed the alleyway, nothing more than a small thumbnail. He selected the photo and it blew up, filling the screen.

No way.

The slayer was in full view, lit up by the camera
’
s flash. It was staring at him with wide eyes and bared teeth. Jake felt a pang of dread run up his spine. Vivid memories of the encounter came rushing back, and in that moment, he knew that it had happened. He could recall everything now.

“
This can
’
t be real.
”
He tossed the phone across the couch and sat still, staring into space.

“
They are real,
”
Wolfe said.
“
It
’
s obviously a lot to wrap your head around, but there
’
s thousands of them out there. We try to keep their numbers down.
”

Jake looked up.
“
You hunt them?
”

“
Yes, me and my team. We
’
re all ex-military. Delta Force.
”

“
This is your home?
”

“
Yes.
”

“
Big place.
”

“
It has to be. Six of us live here. And we have a lot of equipment.
”

“
How is it that a group of Delta Force guys winds up hunting these things?
”

“
Seventeen years ago, we were one of the best units on the planet. We were all young
–
twenty, twenty-one, that kind of age. We were sent into the Amazon Rainforest, on a scouting assignment. We barely made it to the camp before we were attacked by a pack of slayers. One of them incapacitated my entire team while I was forced to watch. I escaped, but it caught me and knocked me unconscious. Before it did, it spoke to me.
”

“
You told me they can
’
t speak,
”
Jake said.

“
I did,
”
Wolfe nodded, before continuing.
“
When we woke up we were in bad shape, but alive. They hadn
’
t killed us yet. We were bound to a tree at the edge of the clearing. They were saving us for later. It was a five-day hike to civilisation. There was no way we were making it out of there.
”

“
So what happened?
”

“
A man appeared. He came out of the jungle and cut us free right then and there. We thought we were dreaming. He hurried us out, and told us he had been tracking the slayers for the past few days. He asked me if one of them could speak English. I said yes. He told us that was their leader.
”

“
How did he know all of this?
”

“
Because he created them.
”

Jake
’
s eyes widened.
“
Created?
”

“
Yes. The man had been a scientist, experimenting with genetic engineering.
”

“
Really?
”
Jake said, somewhat bemused.
“
The old mad scientist story? That
’
s believable.
”

“
He wasn
’
t mad. In fact, he was perfectly sane. He chanced upon a breakthrough serum that he believed was the cure for Alzheimer
’
s. But that was a belief short-lived. The lab funding him didn
’
t give permission to conduct human trials. But he wanted to save people. To help them. He took his research to a lab funded by his own means, with no rules or regulations, here in Melbourne. A mentally unstable Alzheimer
’
s patient, by the name of Robert Arch, volunteered himself for human trials. The scientist then injected him with the serum.
”

“
I
’
m going to hazard a guess that everything didn
’
t go according to plan,
”
Jake said.

“
You guessed right. I
’
m sure his lab rejected human trials for a good reason, because the experiment went horribly, horribly wrong.
”

“
And you say he was trying to help people?
”

“
He had an unwavering dedication to the cure that led to poor decisions. Those poor decisions led to the first slayer. Robert Arch took the virus into his bloodstream and it transformed his genetic makeup
–
it turned him into an intelligent, capable monster. And we will never know how.
”

“
And it could talk? It was the one who spoke to you?
”

“
Precisely. We call the monster Archfiend now. It was a nickname. Just like
‘
slayers
’
, the nickname stuck.
”

“
Archfiend.
”
Jake rolled the name off his tongue.

“
That
’
s who leads them.
”