A Grave Hunger Read online
Page 6
"She's still alive," I gasped, rushing down the aisle, over to the girl. My hands shook as I desperately fumbled with the ropes binding her arms.
I barely registered Finlay next to me, as my preoccupation laid solely with the child. I affectionately brushed the hair from her face and whispered soothing words in her ear. The creaking of the door alerted me to another arrival. I turned, expecting to see Robert, but instead what I saw froze my heart.
Three figures entered the room from a door to the left of the pulpit. In recognition, my gaze automatically flickered to Robert. He was surrounded by a man and a woman, their contorted, serrated teeth, giving me no illusions to their dark heritage. A thin trail of blood trickled from his nose. It took me a moment for my brain to process what I was seeing.
One of the vampires had hoisted Robert from the ground, holding his weight effortlessly with one hand. Robert's feet were dangling in the air, swinging slightly with the momentum, as he squirmed and twisted, trying desperately to escape the monsters firm grasp. A short shrill escaped from my lips, as the realisation of the situation dawned on me. Waves of fear ripped through my chest.
"You really should have left us in peace," the male vampire holding Robert growled. It was obvious by the creatures' body language and the fact that the female flanked behind that it was the one in control. With one quick movement, it cast Robert towards the rows of pews. His body jolted off the shattered pew and landed face down on the ground.
"You ok Robert?" I asked, never taking my eyes from the vampires in front of me.
"I'll survive," he grunted clambering to his feet.
I protectively stepped in front of the child to block her from any further torment. I shot a glance toward Finlay. His face was blank, giving nothing away.
"It seems we might have underestimated you. You have managed to find us even after we left you that little present at the factory to keep you off our track." A sneer touched its lips. "Pity you didn't fall for it."
My stomach churned with the callousness of the comment as my mind flashed back to the poor girl we had found. I struggled to keep my emotions under control.
A bright light crept in through the cracks in the boarded up windows as the sun reappeared from behind the cloud. In the newly illuminated room the situation seemed even direr. How would we get out of this alive?
The female spoke for the first time. "Why couldn't you leave us alone?"
"If you'd left us alone, then we wouldn't have to be here. But you have ripped apart countless lives by slaughtering innocent people. Not to mention what you did to that poor kid over there," Finlay seethed. His normally calm, relaxed demeanour had begun to waver and had been replaced with a simmering rage.
"You hunters are such sanctimonious creatures. So determined to save a world that can't be saved," the male retorted sarcastically.
I sent a concerned glance toward the girl. She still seemed to be unconscious. Still in the same slumped position that she had been in earlier. An involuntary shudder ripped through my body, as I wondered if we would be able to get her out of here alive.
The male was watching me with a quizzical look. A throaty chuckle came from its lips.
"What can I say? Children's blood tastes sweeter. There is something about a child's fear that makes for an enticing meal. Absolutely delicious."
A noise of disgust escaped from my lips. The child meant nothing to these animals. They didn't care about the absolute terror she must have been feeling, and in fact they enjoyed it. Waves of loathing and rage ripped through my chest. Without thinking, I lunged forward toward the beasts. I felt a sharp tug on my jacket, and suddenly felt weightless, as I found myself being jerked backwards. I crashed into Finlay with a loud grunt.
"Don't," he warned, releasing my jacket from his tight grip. He defensively pushed me behind him. Finlay was right; launching into a suicide mission wouldn't help the child. I still had to think about how we would get her out of here alive, and if I acted on raw emotions I couldn't do that. Robert caught my eye, sending me a wary look. I nodded to his unspoken order.
During our training, Robert had taught me to block out any emotions when hunting. It would impair your judgement and cloud any rational thinking. Block out feelings of grief, rage or sorrow when on a hunt, and save it for later. Let these emotions motivate you, but never let them rule because they will get you killed. I had let my emotions get the best of me on my last hunt, and I almost didn't make it out alive. I wouldn't make that mistake again. I pushed down the feeling of nausea as bile filled my throat and willed my hands to stop shaking.
"Your friend's right. Don't go doing anything stupid," the male vampire instructed, a smirk playing at the corners of its lips.
No one moved, each of us taking stock of the situation, evaluating our opponents for signs of weakness. Seconds passed, and it felt like hours. Tension was thick in the air. My heart raced, giving the vampires an auditory signal of my fear. I struggled to calm myself, determined not to give these animals any satisfaction. My gaze flickered between the two vampires, before settling on the female. Rage rolled off the creature in waves, the hatred for us clearly visible in its eyes. The male thrust its chin in my direction, giving a silent order. The female obeyed and crouched forward, into a pose I recognised instantly. The way its body was coiled, it looked like a snake about to strike. A surge of adrenaline hit me, and I felt my senses heighten as my body tensed for the attack.
The speed at which it moved was incredible, and it was in front of us in a fraction of a second. Its lips pulled back into a distorted grin, razor sharp teeth gnashing in front of us. In one swift movement it grabbed Finlay and threw him across the room. He crashed into the pulpit with such force that the big wooden platform shattered into countless pieces. The impact seemed to shake the entire building before he slumped motionless on a heap on the floor. The creature turned its attention towards me, staring with anticipation, eyes wild with blood lust. Obviously I was the chosen target. A visceral snarl came from its parted lips.
The sounds of fighting thundered from the other side of the room, where Robert was engaged in battle with the male vampire. I didn't dare move my gaze from the female in front of me, knowing that even a moment of distraction could result in my death. It leaped at me, arms outstretched, hands curled in claws. Its talon-like nails pierced painfully into my skin as it easily forced me backwards, narrowly missing the child still slumped on the chair. The air from my lungs caught in my throat as I slammed into the wall. Winded, I gasped for air, desperately trying to right myself before the next blow. The vampire had me against the wall, blocking my only path of escape. I realised the position I was in, as my mind frantically searched for an escape. I squirmed against the vice grip, desperately trying to achieve a position in which I could land a blow, any blow.
An angry roar echoed from behind us as we heard loud snaps and crunches as the fight continued. The female snapped its head around with concern for its mate. Taking advantage of the distraction, I pushed backward with all the strength I could muster, before sending a blow to its head with my fist. I sent a kick into the creature's stomach before it had time to recover from the previous blow. It staggered backwards but righted itself quickly. A hiss of rage passed through its lips as it glared through furious eyes toward me. My hand still gripped the machete tightly, and I swung it toward the monster in a frenzied attack. It lithely danced away from the blows. The creature pulled its lips back in a terrifying grimace, exposing serrated and glistening teeth. It was a petrifying sight that sent a second burst of adrenaline pulsing through my veins. It sprung toward me, knocking me from my feet. I landed heavily on my back, air whooshing sharply from my lungs. It quickly pinned me down, teeth inches from my face. I desperately struggled against its grip, unable to move. I fought against the monster with every ounce of energy I had left, but it wasn't enough. As the gnashing, ragged teeth inched closer still, I cringed away and waited for death, praying that it would be swift.
*****
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br /> My eyes snapped open as I felt a sudden jolt when the vampire was ripped off me. Finlay was standing over me, blood dripping from a large gash in his head. The vampire stared hungrily toward him, blood lust clearly visible in its eyes. Its teeth were bared and ready to ravage. A loud howl rang out from the opposite side of the room. Everyone snapped their heads around toward the sound. Robert had the male vampire pinned against the wall, machete to its neck. In one quick movement, he sliced through its neck, decapitating the monster. The female let out a horrifying howl, as the male vampire's head dropped to the floor.
No one moved for a moment. Everyone scrutinised the female for signs of what she might do next. The creature began to shake uncontrollably. Rage emanated from every pore, eyes radiant with fury. It turned its attention back to Finlay, springing toward him, knocking him from his feet. He roared as it sunk its teeth into his neck, talons clawing into his chest.
I reached around with my left hand to the small of my back and unhooked my gun. The room exploded in a deafening thunder, as I sent five rounds into the back of the vampires head. I knew that a bullet wouldn't stop the bitch, but I hoped that it might slow it down. The shots only hindered the vampire momentarily. It turned toward me, hissing furiously, before turning its attention back to Finlay. Without thinking, I holstered my gun and rushed toward them, grabbing the vamp by the hair and pulling it off Finlay. I wildly swung the machete, hearing a loud crunch when it made contact with the creature's neck.
I'm not sure what I expected to feel when I killed my first vampire. Maybe a sense of justice, closure or even relief, but I felt none of these things. I stared in shock as the dismembered head of the creature bounced to the floor. Ebony locks cascaded over the ground, giving the illusion of a murky waterfall. A sense of shame washed over me, as I assessed the bloodshed I had caused. Was I any different to this creature I saw before me? Horrified, I stood frozen to the spot. I was aware of Finley's eyes assessing me, but I couldn't drag my gaze from the macabre scene in front of me.
"Hey, Scotland, its ok. It's over now," Finlay consoled, taking my face in his hands and staring intently into my eyes. "You good?"
"Yeah, I'm good," I lied. My voice broke, demonstrating effectively that I was not.
I began shaking uncontrollably. As the shock began to wear off, I desperately tried to erase the last fifteen minutes from my memory.
"I think you had better drop that." I stared at him, bewildered. It took me a few moments to realise that I was still tightly grasping the machete in my hand. My gaze flickered to the weapon. Blood ran down the length of the blade and had started dripping onto the floor, pooling in bright, scarlet circles. A vivid contrast against the dark wooden floor. I forcefully threw the weapon to the floor, as though it had sent a voltage through my body. "The first kill is always the hardest," Finlay reassured, dropping his hands from my face. "Come on, we need to get this kid to a hospital."
The child had begun to regain consciousness, and had started quietly whimpering. Large, silent tears streamed down her dirt streaked cheeks. My heart ached for her.
"Hi, my name is Leah," I said softly, addressing the child. I walked toward her slowly, smiling pleasantly. Trying to convey that I wasn't a threat. "We won't hurt you. We are going to take you home."
"Hey, sweetheart, I'm going to pick you up so I can carry you out of here. That ok?" Finlay asked soothingly.
She nodded sombrely. Finlay scooped her up into his arms. She buried her head into his chest and closed her eyes, cringing away from the horrifying scene in front of her.
"You two take the kid to the hospital. I'll deal with this mess," Robert instructed.
I felt relieved that Robert had offered to clean up the scene, still not completely trusting myself to keep it together around all this carnage. Cleaning the scene consisted of burying the bodies and cleaning the room of blood and finger prints, effectively destroying any evidence that we had ever been here, and the horrific events that had happened.
The child kept worryingly quiet on the drive to the hospital. I asked her what her name was, but she had kept silent, obviously traumatised. She clung to me fiercely, never letting the space between us grow more than a few inches. I think she was just glad to have some human contact after having been subjected to unthinkable horror over the recent days.
At the hospital Finlay waited in the car while I took the child inside. We didn't want to draw anymore attention to ourselves, and Finlay being covered in blood would definitely look suspect.
I had fabricated a story of finding the girl wandering on her own. I had been the good Samaritan and had brought her here to get her checked over. No, I didn't know what had happened to her. No, I didn't know her name. I had just found her and wanted to make sure she was ok.
Her silence had ended when I tried to leave. She started screaming and had gripped me tightly, refusing to let go. It broke my heart to see a child in so much pain. Against my better judgement I offered to stay with her until they had her settled, I didn't care that the police were on the way with questions that I couldn't convincingly answer. I just wanted to make sure she was ok. My promise to stay seemed to calm her, and she allowed the doctors to check her over and give her a sedative. She was dehydrated and weak due to prolonged blood loss, but she would be ok, physically at least. I stayed with her, stroking her hair as the sedative began to take effect. She fought against the drug, trying to keep her eyes open, but she eventually succumbed, her grip on me loosening for the first time since we had left the church.
I left the hospital feeling guilt laden and exhausted, disgusted with myself for what I had done. A multitude of questions buzzed in my head. Would the child be ok? Would they find her family? As a wave of depression washed over me, the same questions kept repeating in my head. Could I handle this job? Was I emotionally strong enough to be a hunter?
CHAPTER 11
"All right, Scotland, enough of the silent treatment," Finlay grumbled.
"What?" I replied, confused. I had been lost in my thoughts since leaving the hospital. I hadn't even realised we were back at our motel.
"You haven't said a word since we left the hospital."
"Sorry, I've been thinking," I mumbled.
"Yeah, you think too much," Finlay replied, a frown crossing his brows. "Don't worry. I've got just the thing to sort that out."
"Sounds ominous," I said unenthusiastically.
"Go into your room, I'll be there in five."
Finlay appeared in my room five minutes later, carrying a plastic bag. He had changed out of his blood soaked clothes and had put on a crisp white shirt.
"My bag of tricks," he announced grinning, holding up the plastic bag.
"I hate to think what's in there," I replied, an involuntary smile crossing my lips. There was just something about Finlay that could make me smile even in the worst situations.
He crossed to the small rickety table, and from the bag produced a bottle of tequila, three limes and a container of salt.
"The best therapy around," he smirked.
"Tequila does bad things to me," I responded warily. My mind flashed to the last time I’d had tequila: a New Year's Eve party four years ago, back in Scotland. My sister and I had thought it would be a good idea to celebrate the New Year with some shots. The resulting embarrassment the following day when I remembered my drunken antics, and the splitting hangover, demonstrated that it was not such a good idea after all. My depression deepened as I thought of my family and how much I missed them.
"Excellent, this should get interesting then."
He retrieved a pocket knife from his jeans and began cutting the limes into wedges.
"Sit," he ordered.
I did as I was told and joined him at the table. He grabbed two glasses, and poured two large measures of tequila. Reaching over, he took my hand and lifted it to his mouth. He gently ran his tongue over my skin and poured salt over the wetness. My depression quickly dissipated as a shiver of desire ran through my body. He w
atched me intently, his eyes sparkled playfully.
I stared at him for a few moments, stunned, before I managed to replace the look of shock on my face with one of amusement.
"You are such a disgraceful flirt."
"I think it's one of my most endearing qualities." He winked at me.
"It sure is. Bottoms up," I said, raising my glass.
"Cheers." He reached over and took my hand once more and licked the salt off, before downing the tequila and sucking on the wedge of lime. He grinned, the wedge of lime covering his teeth.
"You are such a geek." I chuckled, my depression quickly forgotten.
"Ok, your turn," he announced, stretching out his hand toward me to lick.
A smirk played at my lips, as I rose from my seat. I sat back down on his lap and turned my head into his neck. My tongue gently grazed his skin. I grabbed the salt from the table and poured, careful not to get any near his bite wound. I licked the salt off slowly, before returning to my seat. I downed the tequila, and then seductively sucked on the lime. I finished off my routine by giving him a wink. Two could play this game.