Bent Arrow, page 13
We all stood about, wild-eyed, panting, checking for more but there were none. I leaned against a crate and it toppled. The lid smashed free as it hit the ground. Out fell handcuffs, ropes, coils of thick wire, cloths, and packs of syringes and vials. I knew what it was and my blood surged with anger. This was their kit for going out hunting, the bastards.
Team Freaky grabbed handfuls of sandwiches off Mimi and stuffed our faces as our eyes darted this way and that, taking in the carnage, the layout, investigating everywhere someone might be hiding. We were clear in here, but we knew there was still the main bit to go. We eventually rested our eyes on the wall at the back. Made of steel, there was a single door, bloodstained where broken hands had tried to find purchase as they were dragged through into their worst nightmare.
This was where they took their prey, where they did unspeakable things to them in order to satisfy the need for Vamp2 and the disgustingly awesome high it gave.
Not any more. Tonight we put an end to it. For good. First, another sandwich and some Lucozade.
Oops. Forgot
We lined up facing the steel wall, a mess of blood, bits of vampire goop, and crumbs. Everyone was knackered, even the vampires, but they were calming fast and wounds regenerating. Freaky Finders were doing okay but we were bruised and scratched all to hell, but at least our tummies were full.
My back was giving me jip so I reached over my shoulder awkwardly, confused for a moment at the lump I found there.
"Bloody hell," I groaned. "Totally forgot about the bow and arrows." How could I have totally ignored a massive load of arrows and a bloody big bow strapped behind me? Because it was strapped behind me, that was why. And besides, I wasn't used to handling any weapons apart from my eyes and own hands. Travel light, never forget your weapons, that was my motto. And now I saw why. I got caught up in the moment, that was the issue. Lost my focus once the blood was upon me, literally.
At least it wasn't too late to use the old faithful, not that I'd had it long or it had been faithful, but whatever.
I adjusted the straps, got everything sorted so I could reach easily for an arrow as needed, and held the bow in my left hand. I'd forgotten how warm and comforting it was, like holding hands with a loved one, or resting your palm on the head of a dog that's been with you for years. Maybe we should get a dog? It'd be nice. Maybe not. Furball might take umbrage and send it somewhere nasty behind the fridge.
"Hello? Earth to Spencer." Aunty put a hand on my shoulder and I snapped out of my reverie.
"Sorry, just thinking about getting a dog."
"Now?"
"No, not now. Don't think they sell them here."
"Idiot. Come on, we're opening the door."
"Don't let Boris do it," I said in a panic.
"Don't worry, Hanna's got this one sorted."
Hanna seemed to be making the door open by the power of her stare alone. She was glaring at it really hard, as though it would submit to her will. It clicked open, the digitized lock acquiescing. Everyone oohed and aahed in appreciation.
"How did you do that?" asked one of the remaining vampires.
"I hate computers," she said.
"Oh. Right."
"Well, okay then, let's do this thing. Final hurdle, final push, let's destroy Vamp2 for good."
Hanna pushed open the door. I notched an arrow. In we went.
"Oh, for fuck's sake," I moaned.
We were not in a vast room full of prisoners being abused in horrible ways, we faced nothing but a long, starkly lit corridor that stretched out until it became a t-junction. Just how bloody large was this building anyway?
With no choice, we moved down the corridor two-abreast, senses on high-alert, waiting for the bogeyman to appear. Of course, we'd see anyone coming, but it was still a tense time to be a vampire hunter. We reached the junction and I stuck my head carefully around the corner and glanced left then right. To the right the corridor was cut short, just a single door at the end no more than several feet away. To the left it went on quite a ways, ending in an identical door.
Choices, choices. Like it mattered. We'd check them both. Aunty went to the right after a nod from me, with Malcolm by her side. She tried the handle and it turned. With a glance back to me, I nodded and she opened the door then jumped back and screamed. Something thin and hairy launched from the room, so I shot it with an arrow and hit my mark dead-on. We ran over and stared down at the kill.
"Nice one, Spencer, you just killed an innocent mop."
I looked into the room. It was a closet full of buckets and blue roll and lots and cleaning products. "Yeah, well, you shouldn't have screamed." I pulled the arrow from the wooden handle and replaced it in the quiver. Waste not, want not. To hide my shame I turned the other way and we listened to see if anyone was coming for us.
All clear.
Only one way left to go now.
To Hell.
The Stuff of Nightmares
It was no ordinary door, it was no ordinary lock. But digital or not, it fell to the onslaught of Boris the Very Fat.
No subtlety, no ninja tactics, just good old-fashioned smash it down and barge in hoping for the best.
We got more than we bargained for. A hell of a lot more. No sooner had we clamored through the hole Boris had made than we were attacked from all sides by screaming vampires of all description. Old ones, young ones, short ones, tall ones. You name it, they came after us. One thing they all had in common, they were stoned as hell.
It was an utter shambles.
Vampire teeth gnashed, hands grabbed at our faces, our hair, tried to trip us by grabbing our legs. It was like trying to shake off, well, a load of stoned vampires.
You could feel the energy in the air, an overwhelming atmosphere of fear mixed with cruelty. Shaking off several crazed neck-biters, I got my first proper glimpse of the room we were in.
"Shit," was all I managed. It was too much to take in. Spreading out ahead of us, as far as I could see, were row after row of cells. People cowered in each of them, bedraggled, naked, abused, bruised, flesh torn, hair matted. Desperate and filthy, treated in ways beyond comprehension.
Where we were, just inside this vast underground warehouse, were weird machines and innumerable rows of benches and seats. Sat at these seats, even with the madness raging all around them, were scores of vampires hooked up to what looked like drips. Needles were attached to their arms, large ugly looking things, with tubes winding their way to large cylinders. Stacks of vials were arranged neatly, piles and piles of clothes were heaped up against a wall, large trolleys were loaded with crates that I assumed were ready to be sent out into the world.
I couldn't make sense of it all, not without time to stop and think, but bedraggled vampires attacked, weak creatures unable to fight properly, easy pickings for us. Bodies piled up. It was like whacking defenseless creatures, and every crunch of a head, every snap of a bone, every scream of pain drove a nail further into my brain until I felt like my head would explode. But it wasn't my head exploding, it was that of the pathetic creatures who weren't in much better shape than the ones they had been feeding off, draining, for who knew how long.
All of this happened within literally a minute or less of us entering the warehouse.
And then, just like that, it was over. We stood still for a moment, panting, confused and bewildered by what had happened and what we were confronted with. It was sensory overload, too much information to process. I'd had no idea how people were actually drained of their life force, now I knew. We all turned at the sound of a raging fire. Far off to the right a huge door was opened; I felt the heat from my position. Three vampires glanced over their shoulders at us, broken creatures, defeated, and then they screamed and ran into the furnace.
Malcolm rushed over and slammed the door shut. Piled to the side of the door were broken and damaged bodies of the dead waiting to be incinerated.
The captives looked on from their cells, minds broken, bodies no better, afforded a full view of everything that happened around them in this wicked, terrible, inhumane place.
"What do we do?" asked Aunty, wiping away her tears.
I looked down the rows, at the people lying on the floor in their own filth, or clutching the bars, looking on numbly. Some even had hope in their eyes, a handful even called for release, but most were so far gone they didn't know what was happening, who they were, or what they'd been through and somehow survived.
"I don't know. I honestly don't know." I looked at the benches, at the vampires still hooked up even now, so far out of it they were unaware of the events unfolding. They weren't in a much better state than their captives.
This was all wrong. So wrong.
Identical keys were on the wall on neatly spaced hooks. I guess when there were this many cells, it made senses for them all to have the same key. Made it easer to let the prisoners in and out. Should we free everyone now? What then? Was it this simple?
"Spencer? What is it?"
"This is too easy. Something's wrong. Something is very wrong here."
"You call this easy?" panted Mimi, stroking her panthers.
"No, I don't call it easy, but I'm telling you this isn't right. Where are the guards? Where are the people running this operation? Look at these freaks, they're so high they can't possibly be entrusted with keeping this running. They aren't running this show, that's for sure. Malcolm, any of this make sense to you?"
Malcolm stared at the hooked-up vamps and shrugged. "I assume they feed off the humans, terrorize and abuse them then feed, then they themselves are drained to provide the Vamp2. We take sustenance not only from the blood of our prey, but their emotions. Somehow, this is distilled, drained from the vampires and changed, made into the drug. Pitiful. So pathetic." Malcolm nodded to his remaining team and slowly, methodically, they went up behind each semi-comatose vampire and killed them.
Something was still nagging at me. Things were wrong. All of this was wrong.
When the back of Malcolm's head blew out, my suspicions were confirmed. Then the other vampires were dispatched in the same manner.
A man walked along the rows of cells. Calm, collected, in a smart suit and shiny black brogues. He stopped before us and said, "Traitors. They were traitors to their own kind."
"You're the traitor, buddy," I told him. I turned to Aunty, grinning. "See. Told you something wasn't right."
"It's nothing to be pleased about."
"Isn't it? Isn't it?"
"Um, no." She frowned at me, somehow still smiling.
"Maybe it is," I told her.
"But it isn't, is it?"
"No."
"Ha!"
"Or is it?" I grinned at her again, at them all. Then we all faced off to the man who was obviously in charge. He smiled at us, not a warm, friendly, you-may-go-now smile, but one utterly devoid of warmth. As we glowered at each other, men emerged from the distance and walked along the rows between cells. Silence descended over the inmates; guess they knew what was coming if they displeased their captors.
We waited until eventually the guards arrived at the front of the rows, weapons poised. This was the pro team, the rest merely dispensable.
The odds were stacked against us.
"The odds are stacked against us," I told the Freaky Finders.
"Gee, way to give a pep-talk," said Mimi.
"Idiot." Aunty thumped me on the shoulder. I didn't mind. I deserved it.
"But," I told them, holding a finger up, "it doesn't mean we won't still win."
I saw the faith in their eyes, the smiles spreading. "What you got planned?" asked Aunty.
"Um, nothing. But you know, we haven't died yet."
"Apart from Hanna," we all chorused.
"Speaking of whom, do not remove your clothes," said the first person ever to Hanna. The vampire boss stared her down, but she gave him one of her best stares in return. She stopped trying to unbutton her pretty blouse though.
"You have done well," began the boss, in that usual way all idiots who believe they have won do. "I assumed you would have been dead long ago, even with the aide of my own kind. But you made it this far. Congratulations." He slow-clapped, pleased with the monologue, gearing up for more.
I nodded to Hanna.
"See, this is the problem with you bosses," I began, as Hanna dove in and out of Gaps at a speed impossible to trace, "you talk more than you act. Now you're all dead." Hanna was back beside me in the blink of an eye. The guards toppled, one after the other, as she smiled sweetly at the big bad boss-man.
"Yeah, twat-face, you talk too much." Hanna stepped forward, right up to him. Fair play to the guy, he didn't even flinch, but we all saw the doubt, the reality of the situation hit home. He was done for, his men dead, all alone now.
"Can I kill him now?" asked Hanna.
"No!" I barked. "That would be too easy, too simple. I'm sure he'd much rather add to the Vamp2 collection. Am I right or am I right?" I asked him.
He sneered but said nothing.
"Boris, hook him up?"
"That's a wonderful idea. Go ahead."
The vampire's demeanor changed. He glanced nervously at the cylinders and tubes, but he still held himself straight and imperious. I really wanted to slap him silly.
I slapped him silly.
Okay, I tried to, but even as we surged as a team he was on the move, fast as Aunty when she sees a single man. My hair blew as he sped past and out the door, heading back the way we'd come. The others began to give chase but I screamed for them to wait. They turned and stopped, questioning me. Moments like this were always odd, when I suddenly became fully aware that they genuinely saw me as the leader. Ugh, too much responsibility.
"Mimi, can you send your girls after him? To track him, not to do anything? Does it matter how fast he's moving?"
"He can be as fast as the wind, they'll still track him." Mimi bent and talked to Ghost and Shadow, then off they loped, noses to the floor, one after the other.
They'd trail him to the ends of the earth if need be, I had no doubt about that, and then they'd travel back to us via a Gap. They would find us. He had nowhere to hide.
"Now," I asked the team, "what are we going to do with all these people?"
O Brother
Fair play to Francis, my brother and super-straight pink jumper wearing father of 2.4 children, he came when I called, didn't ask more than a thousand questions, and did what I requested. He hired out, meaning he borrowed from his work premises, two minibuses to enable him, Aunty, and Mimi along with her own bus to take the wretched prisoners away to safety. We freed them one by one, guided them up to the loading bay, where we eventually managed to get them all out of the cursed building and away to freedom.
It took almost until dawn to cajole, carry, push, or manhandle them all into a seat. Some freaked out utterly, thought they were going to be gassed or burned or merely shot in the head the moment they stepped foot inside the vehicles, but most walked like zombies in an utter daze, too drained, too empty, too mentally damaged to even know what was happening.
But somewhere, deep down inside them, they knew it was their chance at freedom, a way out of this living nightmare.
I thanked my brother, promised I would call soon and explain properly, and apologized for not being in touch. He did the same. It always went like that. We got on with our lives, caught up now and then. Only to argue, pick apart each other's lifestyles, and usually it involved him questioning what I was going to do with my life.
This time he didn't ask. This was proof enough I was doing something, a real thing. Helping others, maybe for the first time.
It meant so much to me that he'd helped, and I think it surprised us both that I'd even asked. Why had I asked? Because of what I'd learned about my father? We weren't full brothers, but maybe that made the bond tighter in a way. He didn't have the same hang-ups regarding his father, sure, but he sure had different ones, although that's his story to tell, not mine.
After my brother left, Mimi returned, and I gathered the team around me on the loading dock. Frigid air gnawed at my face, my fingers were becoming numb, and we all had pink noses. Boris didn't seem to feel the cold, but the rest of us were freezing and exhausted.
"Okay, this isn't over, but I need everyone to do me a solid. I need you to go home and look after all these people. We can't leave them alone, anything could happen. You must protect them. Understand?"
They protested, but they knew I was right. We had just taken countless people back to Freaky Finders HQ and they couldn't fend for themselves. We didn't know if vamps would turn up, or if they'd burn the bloody house down. I couldn't face that again, no way. Plus, they needed feeding, they needed to be cared for, and they needed comforting by friendly faces. Okay, we may not have all had the most friendly of faces, but at least we were on their side.
"Mimi, will the cats work with me?"
"They will. I'll call them back." Mimi howled into the pink morning sky as the sun rose over the quiet, abandoned industrial estate.
The air tore, a rip in space-time revealed impossible emptiness, and Shadow and Ghost landed softly several feet away. They stared deep into Mimi's eyes, then padded over and sat either side of her as the Gap closed. She bent and spoke to them so no-one else could hear, then she pointed at me. I waved back. They blinked slowly, no indication they'd even seen me. Damn, they were intimidating. Even more than Mimi. Well, almost.
Mimi gave them a final stroke on the head, scratched their ears, then they came and stood beside me, staring back at Mimi.
"Remember what I told you," she said to them. "Don't eat Spencer. I know he deserves it, just don't, okay? He's done good today, real good." Mimi smiled at me and I nodded my head in thanks.
Aunty hugged me, then she took hold of Hanna and Boris and they were gone.
Mimi hopped on her bus and left without another word.
Then it was just me and the panthers. They turned their heads and stared up at me, not that they had to look up far.
