Vampire's Day (Book 1): Epicenter (14 page)

54. Boozer 5

“Help you up! What, you can’t walk?!”

“No, I'm fine! I play basketball for the Lakers on the weekends, and now I just sit on the floor next to a spike for fun. What do you think? I can walk, but I’m limping badly. And now, help me up.”

She helped him up and sat on a chair, and he can smell her French perfume fragrance.

“Give me the shotgun.”

The shotgun and harness with twenty bright red cartridges was the main trophy taken from the dead cop. This gun is well known to him, he used one before when he was still in work. He knew he could rely on this mechanism, just needed to reload. Also, he has the cop’s Glock with only one spare clip; he put the gun into breast pocket. Radio? The cop with the torn throat had no radio; otherwise Boozer would have taken it too.

“Wonderful, just wonderful! I'm ready to pay him one and half million dollars to help me escape, and now I find out he’s a cripple! Now do we go to the roof?”

“First of all - I'm not a cripple, I’m lame. Secondly - if you are not satisfied with my services, then go out into the hallway and find another guide, but don’t call me for help when he tears out your throat!”

The famous actress winced, as if she had received a powerful electric shock. She took a short look at the corridor, then back to Boozer.

“Sorry, sorry, I'm just a little panicked. So you can walk, but you’re limping badly? Do you need a stick?”

“And how I will hold the shotgun with only one hand? We can go without the stick, it’s only twelve meters to the elevator from my door, we’ll reach it somehow.”

“You think we’ll have to shoot?”

“In the morning I shot two people. Don’t worry, I shoot a lot better than I walk.”

“I've seen. Are you from the army, or maybe a cop? Former cop?”

“Yeah, former. But not a cop, the guard. It’s 12.10, when is your helicopter arriving?”

“In an hour, maybe a little earlier. Do you have water?”

“In the kitchen tap, if it’s not disabled.”

The famous actress crawled into the kitchen, crept up to the sink and turned the faucet. The water is not turned off, and she gulped greedily, looking at the heavy curtains that enclosed the small apartment from sunlight. Shooting and fire could be heard from the street, but there were no more sirens of police, fire and medical services. It looked like they were now all busy hunting civilians, like the cop that was following her, and a few who were able to escape from the paddock.

“Hey, how did you become lame?”

“At work.”

“Security?”

“Yeah, great store, radio, tools, all sorts. Thieves often climbed in there, and one had a gun. He shot, I shot. He went to the morgue, and I came here. I had good insurance, I got paid compensation, that’s how I live now.”

“I can see how you live.” She pointed to the cemetery of empty bottles.

“I'm not an alcoholic, I can give up drinking at any time. Everything was normal until this morning. And you with all your millions – how did it happen that you're here with me at the end?”

“I don’t know. The whole world collapsed and shattered. No angels with trumpets, no fire from heaven, nothing, just all crazy. Now I just want to get out of here before it's too late.”

“Where?”

“As far as possible. I have an apartment in Paris, my husband has relatives in Israel, I’ll find somewhere to hide. This can’t go on forever; the military will come and will impose order.”

A button on her left sleeve buzzed in a low tone, like a big bumblebee.

“This is the signal, they are coming!”

“Good. Come on, it's time to earn my money!”

55. Intraspecific competition

Jimenez didn’t remember how she got here. Exactly where it was located, she did not know, some basement. Beside her on the concrete floor were a bunch of old tires, dusty shelves with tools and paint cans. There was a little light from one small closed grate window near the ceiling.

She must remember how she got here. She had been elsewhere. Low roof, hard seat, pitching... Yeah, it was a car, she remembered! She’d left the operations center with the others in an armored van with black windows. They drove to the north, and then abruptly stopped; a burning truck blocked the highway. Jimenez remembered how the soldiers in her van opened the embrasure and started firing. Inside the armored car the roar was deafening. She also wanted to shoot, but she could not see the enemy. The houses on both sides were burning, and in the smoke rushed some figures. The lead car in the convoy broke apart in a half RPG shot; she killed a vampire who tried to break the glass with a bat, shot him in the stomach almost point-blank. A fire started from a Molotov cocktail on the roof, the motor was broken, so it was time to leave the car. They went through the back door, a soldier, who was running behind her, was shot as they ran out the street. Several cars in the convoy stood in a defensive circle, she tried to get through to them and shot someone, then... Then someone began to beat her, hit her again and again. Someone attacked her?

No, it was not the enemies, it was bricks falling, that's what happened, a wall fell on her! And now she was here, covered in bruises, cuts and broken brick. It seemed that every muscle and bone ached, but still she could get up. No weapons, no radio, but her hands were free.

The door on the stairs swung open, in the doorway appeared a man with a gun.

“Stay where you are, bitch!”

He had an army pouch with spare magazines worn ridiculously over an expensive gray business suit. The wound on his neck. And his look. A Hungry look.

“Don’t move!”

The businessman with the gun took a step on the ladder, and then dropped down, and a soldier in a charred uniform burst into the basement. He also looked at Jimenez big hungry eyes.

“She's mine!” the businessman was screaming, but the soldier didn’t answer.

The two vampires clutched at each other in a violent fight on the floor. Jimenez was trying to snatch the gun, but a strong blow to the stomach threw her to the far wall. The soldier raised the gun, but the businessman hit the barrel and the bullets crashed into the wall, the AK-47 shooting until it ran out of bullets. The businessman threw the soldier down, tightening the strap around the enemy neck and resting his foot on the soldier’s back. Jimenez tried to get up, her hand falling on the empty bottle with a high neck.

All right – don’t need an aspen stake, the usual stranglehold is good enough. The soldier was dead, and the businessman tried to raise the machine gun, but Jimenez was ahead of him, smashing the bottle on his head. The vampire again threw her against the wall, and aimed at her stomach, but the AK was silent - no more bullets. The vampire unsuccessfully pulled the trigger and Jimenez was suddenly aware - he had forgotten how to use the gun because of the Hunger and didn’t understand that it must be reloaded. This was her last chance, and she attacked him with a bottle fragment. The vampire realized his mistake, and he tried to get a spare magazine out of the bag when the bottle chip pierced his neck. Blood gushed out, she made blow after blow until the enemy fell.

“No fucking lunch today!”

She had the AK47 and two full magazines, now she had to get out of here.

Shooting over the basement, a woman fell on the floor with a bullet in the back. On the ground floor there is a fight, men against the vampires.

“Drop dead, vampire cunt! Inspect the house, there may be someone else hiding! Check the basement, there may be vampires!”

“Don’t shoot!”

“Who's there?”

“I'm a police officer, human!”

“Drop AK, officer!”

They aimed at her, three of them, including one cop.

“Don’t shoot, I'm yours! I'm not infected!”

“Show me your neck, sweety!”

Jimenez pulled down her collar, showing no bites.

“It seems to be in order. So, get up slowly, otherwise we’ll shoot without warning!”

56. Boozer 6

“It’s twelve meters to the elevator. On the right there are three apartment doors, on the left two doors and open passage to the stairs. We need to take the elevator up to the fifteenth floor. From there, we go through the attic and out onto the roof. The electricity is still on, so the elevator should work.”

“If the electricity switches off, we'll be stuck in the elevator and never get out!”

“That’s true. But I can’t go up the stairs, and, in addition, they may attack us from both sides. We have to brave the elevator.”

“OK.”

They stood at the door, trying to hear what was happening in the hallway and stairs. At that moment, all was quiet. Boozer took the photo off the mirror and put it in his back pocket.

“Come on!”

He made a cautious step into the hallway, flashlight just showing a thin beam. There was no one in the hallway, only three corpses lying on the floor in the same place that he’d left them.

A fourth, female, lay at the entrance to the stairs. It had definitely not been there, when he saved the actress. All the doors into the corridor were either open or just knocked out, and thick, acrid smoke rose from the farthest door. Soon there would be fires.

“Come on.”

The actress came after him, left hand holding his belt, right clutching a small revolver. They went at the full speed he was capable of with his damaged spine and the lame leg. She constantly looked back at the broken doors, while he looked ahead to the hallway in front the elevator and the green light on the panel - the elevator was working.

Step, step. Step, step. Boozer threw a short look at the cop, and read the inscription on the stripes: "Daniels." He thought about the body armor. It would be nice to take it off and put on the actress, but they didn’t have time.

Step, step. They reached the first set of doors, all was quiet. Step, step. Second door, the elevator was near. It seemed the radio was working behind the right door, Boozer could hear some nonsense about sheep and shepherds. Step, step.

They were near the elevator and heard footsteps on the stairs, somewhere above. The noise from the twenty-first, and was clearly not the radio.

“Push!”

The actress reached out and pushed the button, and then she stood between the elevator doors and the entrance to the twenty-first. It was an agonizingly long wait, and there it was, a disgusting grinding sound, and the old elevator started to move.

Quick footsteps were heard on the stairs and someone rushed from above, jumping over several steps at once.

“On the third! It is on the third floor!”

Boozer, pressed against the wall, bent down as low as possible. One of the Marcus brothers, a local thug, appeared on the stairs, snow-white shirt covered with blood, and gore dripping from the long butterfly knife with the pearl handle.

“They…”

An explosion of buckshot cut into his speech, striking the gangster in the stomach.

“BITCH!”

A muscular tattooed arm holding a TEC-9 appeared over the railing, the second Marcus brother shot without aiming, bullet after bullet hitting the wall a half meter from Boozer. Boozer couldn’t see the enemy; he saw only a hand with a big gun, and that was enough.

He shot. Buckshot worked better than an old amputation saw, instantly cutting away the muscular tattooed arm with the gun. For a split second it became quiet, and then there was a heart-rending howl. Marcus rolled down the stairs, falling on the corps
e
of his brother. Without stopping howling, he tried to pick up the knife with his left hand, so Boozer had to spend one more charge to kill him completely.

“To the wall!”

Shot. The actress pressed against the wall, her big eyes looking at the mutilated corpse of a girl, about eight-years-old, lying at the entrance of twenty-first. The corpse’s left leg below the knee is missing, so the girl didn’t go to her and crawled out, her fingers clutching a kitchen knife.

“Fool, I said look behind you!”

The elevator door opened with a bang, on the bloodstained floor is a male corpse with his head crushed by a hammer or a pick. The famous actress squeezed into the cabin, trying not to step on the corpse.

“Fifteenth!”

The doors closed, and the cabin rose up. The actress examined the bloody handprints on the walls, while Boozer reloaded the shotgun.

“Back, move back!”

Twelfth, thirteenth, fourteenth.

Boozer raised the shotgun, ready to shoot immediately at the moment when the doors started to open, and it was the right decision. Fifteenth, end of the road.

They waited for them. Boozer was one against many, but he had a shotgun against knives and baseball bats, so the fight was bloody and brief. He shot the last assailant at the elevator door.

“Go!”

“Oh, my God!”

He shot five or six, but there were many more bodies on the floor. About twenty-five or thirty. Boozer saw the torn and cut throats of men, women and children, and then he realized - they also went to the roof, they also tried to find salvation here.

“Shit! The door to the roof is on the other side, go!”