The Depths of the Hollow (Mercy Falls Mythos Book 2) Page 18
Blake leaned forward into the light. “I’m listening.”
“There’s a man. A man that knows what happened to my friends. He may even be complicit in it. He’s a powerful man, not just in his position, but he has powers too, just like them- the vampires. Except he’s not a vampire, exactly.”
“Mayor Tremont,” Blake said.
“You know about him?” Stephanie asked.
“Not of his powers. I knew there was something there. I was doing my own investigation. Do you have evidence?”
Stephanie nodded, “I have first hand experience, and I have this.” She took out her micro cassette recorder, handing it to Blake. “You can tell there was a struggle, and I can tell you he was strong, superhumanly so, and fast.”
Blake took it, lowered the volume and hit play, holding it up to his ear.
“Incredible,” he said, after listening to it. “You said he had powers like a vampire but wasn’t one himself.”
“Yes,” she agreed.
“It all makes sense now.”
“What does?”
“They’re using the mayor as their familiar.”
“Familiar?”
“Yes,” Blake said, “A daylight guardian. A person they keep on hand, to watch over them, having most of a vampire’s strengths, but none of their weaknesses.”
“How?”
“Their blood would be my guess. So long as he drinks it he temporarily possesses their powers. If he drinks enough of it on a daily basis, he’s virtually just like them.”
“Except he can walk around in daylight, doesn’t have pointy teeth, and isn’t afraid of crosses or holy water?”
“Precisely. By all accounts he is still human, he lives and breathes; but he is also superhuman.”
“Will stakes still kill him?”
“Of course,” Blake said. “Anything that would normally kill a human would kill him. Just how much more effort it would take to kill him remains to be seen.”
“So what do you propose we do?” Stephanie inquired.
“Do?”
“We can’t exactly walk into the mayor’s office and kill him?”
“We won’t be doing anything. I will find a way.”
“What do you mean? I’m as much a part of this as you are!”
“Voice... down,” Blake hushed her.
“Sorry,” she whispered. “You can’t cut me out of this after I told you everything, brought you evidence.”
“You don’t need to be involved in this. I will take care of it.”
She opened her mouth to speak.
“That will be all dear lady.”
“Fine!” she yelled, rocketing up from her seat. The patrons looked up from their drinks.
“Don’t make a scene,” Blake said.
“I’m not,” she said calmly, although she didn’t feel calm. “I’m leaving.”
She paused a moment to look back. “It must be very lonely being you.”
Blake watched her, stone-faced. “I hope you never have to know.”
She started off.
“Stephanie,” he called. She looked back one more time. “Don’t go after him on your own. That would be a mistake.”
Ryan was cooing at what were now his doting parents, Pete Whiteman and Mary Crowley, who were making nonsense sounds and faces above him.
Once the police found the body of his aunt Clara Lynd, not to mention all the other unexplained blood and bodies they’d find at the house, they’d all be suspects. This was why Blake had to move them somewhere safe, out of town, where they could live anonymously, under false names. He had connections, which they didn’t question.
While Pete and Mary played with Ryan in the nursery, Julia and Carl sat in the living room watching That 70s Show. Carl still had a bandage around his neck where the bullet had carved a path through it, just narrowly missing a major artery. When Julia got up to grab a cold drink she still limped, although she’d lost the crutches two days ago. Pete’s shoulder wound had scabbed over, but he still had to replace the bandages with fresh ones because every so often if he stretched his arm too far it would cause the wound to partially re-open and bleed again, though the entry hole was smaller now. Like Blake’s, it still ached.
They’d never fought so many vampires at once. Usually it was only one or two at a time. Their nerves were already tense when the doorbell rang, mainly because they weren’t expecting anyone.
Cops? Vampires? Did vampires ring the bell before asking to be invited in? Or knock? Pete supposed they had to. It was Carl that got up to answer the door.
“Who is it?” he asked, before opening.
“It’s Blake.” They breathed a sigh of relief to hear a familiar voice.
Carl opened the door. “Blake, how are you?”
“I’m all right.” He stared at Carl for a moment as he stood facing him in the doorway. “Do I need to ask to be invited in, or am I free to pass?”
Carl chuckled, “Yeah, of course.” He stepped aside to let Blake in. Pete and Mary left the nursery to join them. Julia got up from the couch to greet Blake.
“Please,” Blake said. “All of you sit. What I came here for will only take a minute.” They did.
“What I want,” he began, and then corrected himself, “What I need is one of you.” He looked over at Carl. “I need your strongest man. Carl, I’ve seen what you can do with a spear, and out of the four of you, you were the least injured.”
“Hey!” Mary said, “I wasn’t injured at all!”
“Yes,” Blake acknowledged, “But you should stay and take care of the baby, and Peter, you should be with her.” Pete nodded.
“And Julia, I’d love to have you with us, but you’re still limping. I would prefer to have everyone up to par, but as for now it looks like it’s just me and Carl. I hope we’ll be enough.”
“What is it you want me to do?” Carl asked.
“We’re going after the guy who’s pulling the strings right now, helping them along. We’re going to find out what he knows, how many of them there are, and then we’re going to kill him.” Blake paused for effect, allowing for the disbelief on their faces.
“A week from now, we’re going to go after the mayor.”
Politics no longer held much interest for him, unless you included the politics of deception. As the mayor he had power, but the vampires had given him all the power he’d ever desired, although the title still had its uses. It served him well, to hide his more nefarious activities. But town halls, signing off on legislation, photo-ops bored him to tears.
Currently he sat at his desk, blowing a pencil across it, back and forth, watching it roll. He’d attended a premiere party for The Sixth Sense yesterday, and the little boy in the movie had been doing this. This amused him for all of two minutes before he sighed, leaned back in his chair, stretched and yawned.
There was a knock at the door. “Oh, thank God!” he said, getting up and opening it without bothering to ask who it was.
“Lucio!” he exclaimed, “How are you doing compadre?”
The vampire in the three piece suit scowled. “I’m not Spanish, I’m Italian you idiot!”
“Of course you are, come in, come in!”
Lucio stepped through the doorway.
“Do I have to invite you in each time or just the once?” Mayor Tremont asked.
“Just the once,” Lucio said.
“I never can get the rules straight.”
“Yes... I know.”
“Well, what can I do you for? Have a seat! Have a seat!”
Lucio sat down across from the mayor, twisting around to look at the person shaped hole in the wall.
“Are you ever intending to get that fixed?” Lucio asked.
The mayor laughed. “Why would I ever want to do that? I look at that everyday. You know what that says to me?”
Lucio shook his head.
“Power,” Charles Tremont said with pride, straightening his shoul
ders.
“Yeah, all I see is stupid. It draws attention. What if one of your constituents walks in here? What are you going to tell them?”
The mayor shrugged, “Got carried away playing racquetball?”
Lucio frowned.
“Aren’t you supposed to be indoors? Isn’t it still daylight out?” Tremont asked.
“It’s sunset. The sun’s low enough for me to be able to move about.”
The mayor got up for a moment to peek through the window blinds, before sitting back down. “Well, I’ll be damned. I’m all ears.”
“I have several new... potentials,” Lucio said.
“Potentials? How exciting.”
“Your sarcasm is tolerated Mr. Tremont. Just remember who supplies blood for you.”
“Please, call me Mayor, or just Charles.”
“As I was saying- Mr. Tremont, there are several new potentials. Ones we’ve been watching. Once turned we’d like you to... ease them into their new life, perhaps introduce them to Walter.”
“I thought you didn’t like Walter.”
“We... tolerate Walter as well. But he’s family, unlike you.”
“You know Lucy, that hurts.”
“Don’t call me that,” Lucio snapped, “Unless you’d like to find out what a person with actual vampire blood
running through their veins can do to you.”
The mayor’s grin vanished, but only for a moment. “You’re so serious man. How are things down in the pit?”
“Just swell. I’ll be leaving you now Mr. Tremont. Expect three new arrivals day after tomorrow. Be here, in your office, shortly after seven.
Lucio got up from his chair and walked toward the door. “Goodbye Mr. Tremont.”
The mayor waved with his fingers, “Toodles.” The door slammed shut.
The man was strong, athletic, and muscular. He’d most likely put up a fight, but he’d be no match. Lucio planned the attack like a home invasion, first disarming and eliminating the mother and daughter, then turning the husband.
Meanwhile Arianna would be at another house, in another part of town, disarming another man, a single man, which for her was simple, and really no challenge at all.
Rusty was going to turn a single mom, a divorcee, with one child, a boy. He would not be easy on either one.
Much violence and merriment would ensue tonight. Lucio could not wait.
All he had to do now was wait until tomorrow night. Mayor Charles Tremont enjoyed his new found powers, but he wasn’t so sure how much he liked the arrangements. Although eager to meet the new recruits he still had regrets about Sarah. Unlike the vampires he was still human. The blood and the power had corrupted and infected him, but he had his moments of doubt. He was afraid of what would happen if the supply ever stopped. Would his guilty conscience override everything else? Would he regret everything? He hadn’t killed anyone himself, but he had facilitated the deaths of other humans by helping the vampires. That was as good as killing them himself.
The mayor shook his head fiercely. No, he would no longer entertain these thoughts. He was not human, and by that measure he did not have to abide by any laws that they imposed on themselves. The only way he could rid himself of any conscience was if he convinced them to turn him into a full vampire. It was true he would never see sunlight again, but the gains were well worth the sacrifice.
Lucio wore all black, with a black ski mask to cover his face. He arrived with a long barreled handgun, equipped
with a silencer. He wanted this to look as authentic as possible, especially if they had video cameras.
The young girl, approximately thirteen, was in her room, reading a book in bed. Lucio observed from the second story window, perched on a narrow ledge. He had to start here, because she’d be the most likely to let him in. Even if she didn’t, he could shoot her through the window, although his view was mostly the back of the bed’s headrest. It would make for an incredibly awkward angle. The window was already slightly open to let in the cool night air. He had to do something to get her attention. The trick would be to hold it before she panicked and screamed.
Lucio slid the rest of the window up slowly. The girl shivered. Although the air outside was still relatively warm, the sudden draft was unexpected. She placed the marker in her book, closed it and set it aside, walking toward the window as if to close it.
She saw Lucio standing there, watching her, and her eyes opened wide, mouth opening to scream. Lucio shot her in the throat. The scream died, replaced by a slow intake of air, and a fine mist of blood. The girl fell face forward to the carpet.
“Well, that was no fun,” Lucio whispered to himself.
Damn, the girl was dead, and he had an open window he couldn’t get through. He still had to be invited in. Lucio shut the window and climbed back down. He had to find the wife. After a couple of minutes he did. Through a small window above the sink he saw a light come on. The girl’s mother was entering the kitchen. With his super-natural hearing he could make out the sound of a TV in the distance, most likely in the living room, even through the closed window. He assumed it was the husband watching. The woman’s back was to him.
She was opening the fridge, taking something out, setting it on the counter. She wasn’t bad looking, but as a general rule they almost never turned couples. Besides, she was a little too skinny and rather frail looking. Lucio wasn’t sure what the husband, a powerfully built specimen, saw in her. He could, in other words, be the perfect ally.
But Lucio no longer thought that getting the wife’s attention would be the best approach. It would be too risky, and if he had to shoot her, the fall would probably alert the husband too soon. Lucio had to go for the old fashioned approach and ring the doorbell.
First he had to remove the ski mask, and then at least open his shirt to reveal the white V-neck underneath, making himself look as non-threatening as possible. But first he had to come up with a reason for being there. He didn’t want to use the old “car trouble” line. Most people had cell phones nowadays and could call for help themselves. And besides, she was the type that wouldn’t open the door unless she knew who it was.
He changed his strategy one more time, putting the ski mask back on.
“Let’s play a little game of ding dong ditch,” Lucio whispered. He rang the bell and hid.
“Who is it?” she asked from behind the door. No answer. “Who is it?” she said again.
Lucio could almost sense her looking through the peephole.
“Who is it honey?” he heard her husband say.
Fuck! Lucio thought. Don’t come to the door, don’t come to the door.
“I don’t know,” the wife said. “I can’t see anybody.”
“Probably just some neighborhood kids playing a prank.”
All he needed was for her to open the door and look around.
“Forget it,” the husband said, “It’s not that important if they can’t tell you who they are.”
Damn! He needed her to open the door. Lucio rushed past it, knocking this time, pounding hard, and hid again. He heard the woman gasp in startlement.
“Who’s there?” she said. She was at the peephole again.
“Honey, get away from the door,” the husband said, concern in his voice.
“It might be someone who needs help,” she said. “Maybe they can’t talk.”
“Get away from the door,” he said, more forcefully. “We’ll call the police. If they need help, someone will help them.”
No, this is going all wrong. Just as he was about to give up, the door opened with a creak. The woman stuck her head out the door, looking both ways. That’s when he rushed her from the side, grabbing her, and placing his hand over her mouth.
“Get back in here!” the husband demanded. “Don’t scream,” Lucio whispered, “Or I’ll shoot you right here.” He placed the barrel of the gun to her temple. “Understand?”
She nodde
d, her face a mask of fear.
“I want you to let me in, do you understand?”
She nodded again, uncertain.
“Say it.” He could see she didn’t understand now. “Invite me in, and don’t scream, or I will kill you.”
She nodded again. He slowly slid his hand off of her mouth.
“I invite you in,” she said, crying.
“Thank you,” he said, and snapped her neck.
Just as Lucio walked through the doorway, the husband was marching toward it.
“Who the fuck are you?” he said, and his eyes went down to his wife on the ground outside. Before he could react, Lucio shot him in the leg, several inches above the knee cap.
“What the fuck?! What the fuck?!” he screamed, holding his leg, “What did you do to my wife?!”
Lucio looked down at him. “Wifey went bye bye,” he said, waving with his fingers.
“You motherfucker! I’m going to kill you!”
“Don’t think so.” Lucio kicked him in the ribs, hard enough to break some.
“Gaaaaah!!” the man screamed.
“Yes. Don’t worry; in a bit you won’t feel a thing. Really, I thought you’d put up more of a fight. Guess I caught you off gu-”
Just as he was about to finish, the man grabbed Lucio by the ankle, and yanked him down. Side by side, and face to face on the floor, he punched Lucio over and over, making him spit up blood.
Lucio grinned like a shark through the bloody film on his teeth.
“Now that’s more like it,” he said. They tussled, punching, elbowing, kicking... The man was strong. That was good. Lucio ended the fight when he grabbed him by the throat, his grip like a vise. The man’s face turned red as he struggled. Lucio had to be careful not to break his windpipe.
“Ah, as you see, you are strong,” Lucio said, “But despite all your muscle I am much stronger than you my friend.” Lucio held his throat until the man passed out from lack of oxygen, then bit into his meaty neck and drank. It was good. Lucio drank deep, cocking his head back, and savoring it as the blood ran down his throat; then bit his own wrist, and let the blood trickle between the fallen man’s lips.