THE ANOINTED 3: PROPHECIES OF FIRE (12 page)

“For starters, it’s crash resistant and second, it’s actually a mini-attack vehicle.”

“Why am I not surprise?” Thomas mumbled as he weaved in between a black Chevy Impala and a blue Dodge Supercharger, while his eyes searched for the red Tacoma. He felt that it was a major mistake of even letting them car jack the truck in the first place, but at the time he had little choice. If he tried to stop them and they turned on the crowd…it would be unthinkable.

At first, he didn’t see the Tacoma until a big eighteen wheeler turned at a corner revealing the speeding truck a half a block away, running through red lights with recklessness abandonment. The cycle read one hundred and ten miles an hour and he pushed for more speed.

“Graham, you mentioned an on board weapon system, how is it activated?”

“Press the green button on your left.”

With a push of the button, a smaller handheld computer rose and flipped out beside the windshield and he pulled up the cycle’s weapon capabilities. He let out a whistle of appreciation at the options.
How the hell did Graham turn the cycle into what was something akin to an Apache attack helicopter?
he asked himself as his speed topped off at one hundred and forty-eight miles an hour. He saw that he was closing the gap between himself and the speeding Tacoma.

Pushing the touch screen, the sides of the cycle unfolded as two launch tubes went online. Each one showed that it was capable of firing three light explosive projectiles as well as a targeting tracking system found on fighter jets. He entered the coordinates of the Tacoma ahead and the computer automatically went into search mode before alerting him that there was a lock on it.

“I can’t lie, you picked the right profession Graham. It’s almost scary to think of technology like this in the hands of terrorists.”

“Man, we going to have to work on your social skills.”

Thomas grunted in response as the Tacoma was two car lengths away. At that moment, he fired one projectile from each launch tube. Their trail of smoke was visible as they sped forward curving around a green Hummer to detonate into the back of the Tacoma, exploding it forward. It landed on the cab in an arc of sparks from the shrieking partially crush metal as the truck’s momentum drug it a few feet.

“Jeez, what exactly was this son of your Chinese friend going to do with this thing, take over the country?”

He skidded the cycle to the side in a stop, just as the Tacoma exploded in a huge ball of fire as its gas tank detonated. He pressed another button, causing the seat to break apart and reveal an array of weapons from guns to knives. Choosing two razor sharp hatchets that gleamed in the light of the fire, the seat came back together.

“You ask too many questions for someone who was once employed by the U.S. government, Thomas. How ‘bout concentrating on the task at hand, huh big man?”

Thomas ignored the words as he approached the burning wreck holding each hatchet at his sides. Ready. The fires were hot on his exposed skin as he watched the flames and waited. He had seen these things survive much worse as he thought back to the time when he had actually cut one in half with an axe and saw it come back together in seconds. With a howl of rage, two shapes rushed from the shadows of the flames right at him, causing the hatches to flash in his hands finding flesh.

Pulling back a bit from the weapon, the Pallida Mors’ wounds started to heal. They regrouped and rushed once more. Thomas took the first one’s claws off at the wrist, causing blood to spray in an arc as it tried to attack, bringing a roar of pain and rage from it. Its hands begin to regrow themselves immediately, but Thomas used its pause to bring one of the hatchets across its thick neck, taking its head from its body. Knowing he had little recovery time, he released the hatchet as he felt it clear the muscle and spinal column.

There was a metal ringing as it hit the ground and Thomas was already turned and gripping the lone remaining hatchet with both hands like a small sword. He could feel every wound that the Pallida Mors’ had inflicted on him since the fighting begun in front of the high rise but to give in to the aches and pain could be lethal at this moment, when he still had to deal with a very dangerous foe. The last Pallida Mors had a look of rage and caution in its eyes. It wasn’t use to receiving this type of fight from someone not of their kind. Its sudden attack was done so fast that before Thomas could react, the hatchet was knocked aside and he found himself in a bone crushing bear hug. This move trapped his arms at his sides and he felt his lungs slowly squeezed like a giant fist had reached into his chest. Thomas was lifted off his feet by the Pallida Mors’ strength.

“Man, that’s too close. I think I can smell its breath from here!” Graham said inside his ear.

“Goddamn Graham! You’re not helping here!” he managed to snap as the Pallida Mors’ grip constricted even more. At the same time, the Pallida Mors was trying to bend him backwards to snap his spine.

“Hey, I’m not the one trying to squeeze your tonsils out of your ass. But I do suggest you do something before Fido there breaks you in half.”

Thomas called on every ounce of his armor’s ability to increase his strength and the crushing grip stopped and slowly started to reverse itself until he could breathe once more. Redoubling his efforts, he brought the hatchet up in between them to gain more room. He then did something he never thought he would do in his life. He head-butted a werewolf.

The move caught the Pallida Mors right on the nose and it dropped him with a half cry of pain. When his feet touched the ground, Thomas shoved the top of the hatchet into the Pallida Mors’s lower jaw and pushed with all his strength, feeling tissue splitting and bone crunching under the pressure. Hot blood washed over the plates of his armor as the hatchet cleared its skull, leaving the staggering beast looking like a bloody peeled banana. The sight was sickening but the deed had been necessary.

Even this horrific gruesome injury began to heal, and Thomas took its head off and watched it bounce and tumble across the black asphalt. It was the only way to kill the werewolf and he felt a certain type of glee from surviving the battle against them both. He threw down the blood streaked hatchet as the Pallida Mors’ body crumbled to its knees then fell sideways on the asphalt. It had turned back to its human form with its death and the headless corpse looking like a slasher movie prop with a realistic touch.

Looking around, Thomas saw the recording lights of cellphones as a sizable crowd had gathered to watch. Most all of them started to murmur among themselves with wide disbelieving eyes. Dismissing this from his mind, he jogged back to the cycle and jumped on before turning it around in a cloud of smoke from the spinning tires and headed back the way he had come.

“Graham, update on Nathan’s status?” he asked, bringing the cycle to high speed.

“I don’t know man…the camera from the comm is not operational at the moment and I don’t know why. But I hacked in and used the sect’s homing beacon, and it’s giving me his exact position. He’s on the move and he’s…” Graham’s voice trailed off in his ear.

“Graham! Talk to me, what’s happening?”

His words were met with silence.

“Man…I can’t explain it. I had him on radar but he either took off the beacon or he just disappeared off the grid entirely.”

“That’s beyond unacceptable, Graham. How in the hell do you lose the most important person in all this? He’s the key to this whole thing. If he’s taken or lost, our whole house of cards will fall!”

“Hey, it’s not my tech man, something very powerful that I haven’t seen before is jamming my systems. But I can say Nathan was on ground level when his beacon went dark.”

Thomas gritted his teeth and pushed the cycle more, not liking what he was hearing.

CHAPTER SIX

MINUTES BEFORE…

As the elevator closed, Nathan pulled out a Remington 1911 R1 45 caliber pistol with a mounted infrared beam beneath it. The sound was loud in the enclosed space as he chambered a round. The shells were specially made with a mix of liquid Nitrogen that was designed to freeze on impact.

“The apartment is on the 15
th
floor, number 34B, Nathan. But be careful because I also scanned the hallways and picked up a heat signature right outside the door.”

Nathan nodded slightly to himself as he took in Graham’s information.

“Lady’s name is Abigail Tucker. Age eighty-four.”

“How’s Daniels holding up?”

“He could use a little more technique, but he’s capable enough.”

Nathan went silent as his mind went to other things, for he knew that he couldn’t take this situation lightly. If Pallida Mors were already here in force, that meant that Anais wasn’t wasting time going after the organ that aligned itself. The attack on their headquarters aside, this was the first time he encountered Pallida Mors and not the mercenary minions on these recovery missions, and he couldn’t help but to wonder where the mercenaries were.

Graham’s Intel fit their operating procedure, they usually traveled in groups of three or four. If it was just the Pallida Mors. Then he would expect a more dangerous encounter in the next few seconds. Looking up with the gun resting on his leg, he eyed the red numbers in the black digital counter as it announced the passing floors until the elevator reached the floor Graham had given him. As the door opened, he cautiously moved the well maintained hall before reaching a corner leading to apartment 34B. Looking around it, he saw that there was a Pallida Mors guarding the apartment’s door. Not good.

Putting his back against the wall, he reached into a pocket and took out a sound suppresser and screwed it into the gun’s barrel. There was no need of alerting whomever inside that he was here. Pallida Mors were hard enough to kill without them having the advantage of alertness. Stepping from around the corner with a low whistle, Nathan moved in the Pallida Mors’ direction, firing two shots, even as the Pallida Mors started to change. The Pallida Mors jerked with the impact to its chest and the second one threw its head back as the round struck him right above the bridge of its nose.

The wounds started to freeze and spread an icy trail of silver frosty spider webs like a road map of the Pallida Mors’ veins, as the liquid Nitrogen pumped through its body. Caught in the middle of transformation, it looked like a scratched DVD frozen on a start and stop reel. Switching the pistol to his left hand, Nathan unleashed the blade from his bracer as he walked forward. With one practiced move, he took its snarling head from its body.

The Pallida Mors’ strength was its relentless savageness and blurring speed, but if you made them stand still long enough, they were just as vulnerable as their victims. Retracting the bloodstained blade, Nathan stepped over the body of the Pallida Mors and tentatively put his left ear to the door and listened for any movement. Nothing. Trying the door knob, he found it locked and he couldn’t help but to worry about what was inside with Ms. Abigail.

He couldn’t afford to wait any longer, the acts of pleasantry were over. As he stepped back and pointed the gun at the locks, he squeezed off two more rounds before kicking the door in hard enough that he heard the chain snap as it bounced off the wall and swung back. Entering with the gun out front, the scene that met him was eerie. He saw what appeared to be a man holding a slumping Abigail in his arms like a concern parent.

But Nathan could feel the dark aura radiating off in waves of the man pegging him for what he was. The vampire half of the Pallida Mors. The vampire also looked familiar and Nathan racked his brain until it came to him. This was the one who had brought Anais’ message about Sam after she was captured. A look of recognition flickered through the vampire’s crimson eyes.

“Ah, look dear Abigail. It seems that we have company and the possession leader himself, no doubt. You must be a very special lady, what’s your secret? Oh wait, I think I already know,” the vampire whispered to the woman’s head.

Abigail moaned softly in response but still was firmly in the embraces of unconsciousness.

Nathan held the gun steady, making the infrared beam weave in a small pattern on the vampire’s forehead.

“Release her now vampire and I promise that your death will be quick. Refuse and I won’t be as nice as the last time we met.”

The vampire’s laugh was deep, dark, and harsh.

“While your offer is tempting, I think I will decline it all the same. I don’t believe you could actually kill me, possession leader.”

“People learn new things every day, vampire.”

“Maybe you’re right about that but my name is not vampire, as you keep saying, but Cornelius and I have embraced who I am. Have you, possession leader?”

“Are you trying to play mind games with me?”

“No, not at all. But I was informed that the most powerful essence of the dark king has a…certain effect on your bloodline. It is changing you.”

“You lie demon; my people have been dealing with this for longer than you can even begin to fathom.”

“I believe you, but I know you feel a different darkness inside of you. It’s how you can sense us.”

The vampire saw Nathan’s small reaction and smiled.

“Hit a nerve, did I? Never mind your curse, if you impede me from leaving, then I will be forced to hurt you as my instructions are not to kill you. But, my master has said nothing about maiming or capturing you. Would you like to share a cell with your Tactical General? I think Anais would no doubt reward me for the deed.”

Nathan’s arm was becoming heavy from holding the gun steady and it came to the point of either fire or lower the gun. He chose to fire off three shots at the vampire’s face. It moved even faster than he had thought possible as he spun protecting Abigail by throwing up his arm to absorb all three rounds. His arm started to take on an icy white coating that was large enough to encase half of its arm in murky white ice.

The vampire opened its fanged mouth in an angry hiss.

“Fool! The woman could’ve been struck!” Its eyes started to glow a disturbingly red. “You have no idea what you are dealing with, do you? The same tactics that you used on my brothers will not work with me. I’m much more powerful.”

The ice that should’ve paralyzed his arm for hours, shattered into hundreds of small pieces as it had been nothing but a pest that he rid himself of. The vampire flexed his hand repeatedly, testing his arm.

“And here I was expecting more from you, such a disappointment.”

Tossing aside the now useless gun, Nathan unleashed his twin blades from his bracers.

“Sometimes, no matter the steps in technology, to kill something, count on steel. Now tell me vampire, can you shake these off just as easy?”

Cornelius’s arrogant smile slipped a little as he was suddenly unsure. His lips then curled into a snarl.

“Get out of my way!”

“The only sure way you’re leaving here is in a body bag to be burned, vampire. You choose how quickly that comes into fruition.”

“I don’t have time for this.”

Nathan felt a solid force strike him squarely in the chest, like a superhuman shove, causing him to fly back through the doorway to crush into the far wall, his head bouncing hard and leaving a massive crack running down it. Making it to one knee, he shook his head to clear the black spots from his vision. The blow had almost knocked him out. The vampire was right; he was more powerful than his brethren.

The severed head of the now human Pallida Mors he had killed was staring at him in a mocking Snarl. Pushing himself fully to his feet, he made his way back into the apartment. The vampire and Abigail had vanished. Scanning the room, Nathan noticed the smears of blood and gore mixed with fur scattered around the room and walls.  The wind blew the flower pattern drapes inwards, revealing the answer to the riddle.

Hurrying over to the window, he looked out and saw the vampire moving like a spider down the side of the building with one hand firmly holding Abigail over his shoulder. They were fifteen stories up. The vampire who was a floor and half down looked up to stare at Nathan with glowing eyes.

“What’s wrong, no devices to give you the capability of flight? I enjoyed our little talk, we must do it again sometime in the future.”

His grin was as mocking as the snarling head in the hallway. Nathan headed for the door and bypassed the lure of the elevator as he went through the door for the stairs.

‘Graham, I need you to have Daniels swing around to the alley and cut off a vampire that has the woman.”

When Graham failed to answer, Nathan put his hand to his ear to find that the device Graham had given him was missing. Having no time to dwell on the subject, he had to reach the bottom and he did a minute later, hitting the fire door without pause and causing an alarm to sound loudly behind him. Luckily the stairs entered into the same alley that the vampire had went back in and Abigail had vanished.

Looking back at the building above, he studied the possible routes that the vampire could’ve used. He only had seconds to solve the puzzle before the trail went cold and a search became a moot point. Where did it go? His boot caught something unyielding and he almost stumbled. Curiously, he squatted down to examine what it was and discovering a moved manhole cover that exposed the black inky confines of the sewers below.

Like a nervous cockroach fleeing from the light, the vampire’s nature had caused him to seek out the nearness hole for safety. He climbed down in the rungs into the hole of darkness. The rungs were rusty and dirty from disuse and he jumped the rest of the way, landing in a puddle of water that was fetid to his nose.

The laugh was echoing off the wall.

“Yes, possession leader. Come into the darkness and see what else I have for you.”

Nathan had no choice, he couldn’t let them have another piece of puzzle. The echoes still bounced off the walls as he walked forwarded.

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