CHAPTER 2
Benjamin Guitierrez, phone in hand, is visiting bloodwillflow for the seventh time today, watching a new post. This particular one appears to be of three supposed vampires giving a tutorial on skinning a human body. It involves butcher knives and an intricate system of pulleys. People kept telling him the videos were fakes. He knows better.
The average person can’t tell the difference between film violence and the real thing. Ben is an enforcer for ‘La eme’, the Mexican Mafia. He’s committed enough violent acts in his life to know real blood when he sees it. The videos on this website are either the work of a group of dead eyed psychos, or there really are vampires out there.
Not that he’s too worried about it. Nobody he’s run across yet has been able to kill him. Not for a lack of trying either. His rise through the ranks of the organization was anything but peaceful. That’s how things go when you’re the small guy. You’ve got to prove yourself twice as often, twice as brutally. He’s done everything you might expect to earn his nickname. ‘Body bag’ doesn’t play games; he goes in shooting and doesn’t stop until the job is done. This current crisis will be no different. There’s an armory of brand new guns sitting in his trunk if things jump off with any assholes, supernatural or not.
Halfway through the clip, he’s interrupted by the familiar voice of his cousin Juanito, “Hey cuz, what are you doin’ here? I thought I was the only guy comin’ to make this pick up.”
Juanito isn’t the most useful soldier in the world. No matter how many times Ben tries to explain how to hold a gun properly, he goes right back to holding it sideways. A singular fondness for fried dough and cheeseburgers have given him a plump, soft physique. Maybe not the best gun hand in the world, but he’s family. Ben has been letting Juanito ride on his coat tails ever since he came to America.
The two men exchange a brief embrace, “Good to see you, bro. I’m here because this package is an important one and I don’t trust your pudgy ass not to fuck it up on your own.” He punches Juanito in the shoulder and lets out a derisive laugh.
“Yeah, blow me bro. What are you watchin’? Don’t tell me you’re on that dumb ass website again. That shit is gonna rot your brain man.” Quickly snatching the phone out of Ben’s hand, he looks at the screen and breaks out in hysterical laughter. “HA! Man, just look at this nonsense! I mean for fuck’s sake the special effects ain’t even any good. At least they could have used somethin’ other than ketchup for the blood. This shit ain’t scary, it just makes me think about the hot dogs they sell at the Dodgers games.” Tossing the phone back to Ben, he continues, “So which terminal are we meetin’ our boy at Benny?”
“Number four. He should be on the eight PM flight from Tijuana. And for the record, we’re not here to meet him, we’re here to pick up one of his suitcases and that’s it. If you see him, don’t say shit to him, pretend he ain’t even there.” Ben grabs Juanito by the scruff of the neck and pulls him off to the side, out of the way of the crowd of weary travellers moving through the crowded corridors of LAX. “And as for this” he says, holding his phone still open to the infamous website up to Juanito's face, “That skinning vid might be bullshit, but have you seen the original?”
“Of course. Who hasn’t? They showed that shit on the eleven o’clock news on Wednesday night. I think the news lady called it the 'most elaborate hoax in recent memory.'”
Ben responds with a swift slap up the side of his head. It’s no time for jokes. The numerous hours he’s spent surfing the site over the previous few days has him jumpy. It all seems way too real. He needs to make Juanito take the situation much more seriously, “In the original video, you remember the part where he cuts her throat, right?”
Juanito just shrugs at him, “Yeah, so?”
“Have you ever slashed somebody’s throat Juanito?”
“Nah, I’ve shot a couple fools, but I’ve never been much for usin’ blades. I like to keep a safe distance when I’m taking care of shit.”
“Well, I have Juanito, more than once. The way the blood sprayed, the way it trickled down her front, it was too familiar. Not to mention the look on her face man. I know that look. I’ve seen that look. The fear, the shock, you don't ever forget that face.” Noticing that their energetic conversation has attracted some undue attention from a nearby security guard, he loosens his grip on Juanito's collar. They resume walking toward their destination at a brisk pace, ignoring the guards repeated attempts to flag them down. Between the throngs of passers-by and the haste of their retreat, they manage to easily shake their pursuer.
At terminal four, Ben takes a seat by a window overlooking the tarmac and once again produces his phone. He cues up Kagan’s first address and holds the phone out so Juanito can see its screen, “Pay close attention to when he slashes her bro, look into her eyes and tell me that ain’t real terror.”
Juanito pushes the phone aside, “OK, so say you’re not on crack and this video is real. What happens when the ticker gets to zero Benny? Do thousands of creepy euro trash punks with bat wings swoop in and steal all our pasty and depressed teenage white bitches? Cause that don’t seem too bad to me bro, white bitches are no fun anyhow.” With a loud chuckle Juanito sits down in the chair across from his cousin.
“Look, I don’t know what’s gonna’ go down exactly, alright?” He leans in close and lowers his voice, “But I’m sure that somethin' serious is gonna happen and when it does, I’m gonna be muthafuckin' ready! You should see the new hardware I got sittin' in the trunk of my ride bro. Anyone, vampire or otherwise that comes at me is gonna get a face full of buckshot spray.”
Juanito’s eyebrows raise and a sly smile materializes, “Nice. So how much time is left on that doomsday clock anyhow? We gonna be throwin' down with Dracula tonight?”
Ben glances down at his phone’s screen. Doomsday is scheduled for the following evening, “Just over twenty four hours left. So we should be cool for the time being just focusing on what we came here for. We’ve got two bottles of liquid yayo and some new orders from the hefe down in Mexico to grab. It’s gonna be in a grey suitcase labelled Steven Hollister. We grab it, we drop it all off back at the stash house and we call it a night.” Truth be told, Ben doesn’t quite understand why the package was so critical. They have an excess of drugs, so the cocaine was just a perk. There has to be something very sensitive in that suitcase that he wasn’t told about.
A quick glance at his watch snaps him to attention. An infuriated expression plastered on his face, he says, “God damn it, it’s already after eight o’clock. Let’s check the board.” They look over to the departure board and see that every single flight on the list is delayed. The entire crowd erupts with mumbling and complaints. A cue fifty people long files up at the customer service desk; dozens of disgusted commuters demanding answers.
Out of the corner of his eye, Ben notices that the security staff are talking into their radios much more than they logically should be. Juanito recognizes the concern in his face, “What’s up Ben? Do you think we’re made? Say the word and we’ll bug out.”
Ben drags him back to their seats, “No, I don’t think so. But there’s definitely somethin’ not right goin’ on here, keep your eyes open. I guess for now, we just gotta sit here and wait.” Ben pulls his phone back out and attempts to go back online. However, the screen turns up only a 'no service' message. He tries again, and again, but every time receives the same error message. A number of others are complaining about the lack of cell phone service, dropped calls and no internet connectivity. The chattering of irritated passengers is interrupted sharply by the high pitched scream of a small girl standing not five feet from where Ben and Juanito are sitting.
All eyes in the room immediately shift to the petrified child. She stands frozen, pointing out the window, shrieking uncontrollably. Ben is the first to her side, and the first to see the cause of her horror. Sitting on the tarmac, is what can only be a human corpse. Though it is difficult to tell, considering that physically, it looks more like a puddle. It’s a viscous red smear with the odd touch of bone protruding from its gelatinous mass. As Ben studies the blob further, he realizes that the body is wearing what looks like a united airlines pilot’s uniform.
Another body hits the ground further down the runway, and another, and another. People all over the terminal begin shouting that they can see more coming down as well, but not all were landing with a splat. Some of them are landing safely on their feet.
Like the man who just touched down directly in front of Ben. The falling man slowly turns around to face the multitude of onlookers with an ear to ear grin. Smiling wide in order to bare his elongated teeth as prominently as possible, the stranger issues a casual wave to the dumbfounded people gazing out the window. The terminal explodes into a panic. The petrified masses begin running off wildly towards the nearest exits. Security staff do all they can to defuse the situation, only to be run over by the irrational stampeding crowd. Ben, however, is completely calm and his eyes remain glued to the vampire. It raises its gaze to the sky and points the index fingers of both hands straight upwards.
Above the vampire’s head, Ben spots a jumbo jet hurtling towards the ground nose down. Others notice it at the same time and the panic among the crowd reaches a fever pitch. Juanito grabs him from behind and pulls him back, screaming, “Everybody get the hell away from the windows!” The plane collides with the tarmac. The shock wave from the crash shatters all of the terminal's windows. Shards fly off in all directions, striking numerous people, including the cousins. They both take several pieces to the backs of their heads, knocking them to the ground stunned. As they struggle to their feet, they hear a sequence of other explosions coming from all around. There is a cacophony flames, shrieking and shrapnel flying through the air no matter where they look.
Ben regains his bearings and attempts to join the crowd streaming towards the nearest escape route, a greyish blur streaks by right in front of his face. He turns his head in time to witness a vampire clamping down its jaws on the neck of an elderly woman. Several others are now leaping into the building through the shattered windows. Security guards open fire on the intruders, but to no avail. Darting back and forth so quick as to be barely visible, the assailants overwhelm the security force effortlessly. The rare bullet that makes contact seems to have no effect on the cackling creatures, who proceed to bite into the closest edible morsel.
The constant rush of frenzied people crashing towards the doors combined with the carnage breaking loose causes a bottleneck effect that the vampires happily take full advantage of. Ben’s initial hesitation has caused them to wind up near the back end of the pack, and the rushing bloodsuckers are quickly dispatching every man, woman and child in between them. Desperate for a means to defend themselves from the advancing attackers, they pick up the closest chunk of broken glass they can get their hands on.
While Ben is bent over picking up his glass shard, a vampire hitches a ride on his back. Quickly spinning himself around, he slams his attacker’s head into the nearest wall, momentarily stunning it. He takes full advantage, driving his shiv into its unprotected neck. Juanito follows suit, jamming his makeshift weapon deep into its left eye socket. The wounded animal stumbles a few steps and falls down coughing up blood.
The blood looks more like flowing black tar than the crimson stream surrounding them. It’s a dank, foul smelling ooze that coagulates as soon as it hits the floor. Taking another piece of glass and slamming it into the vampire’s heart finishes the job. It folds up, squealing and writhing in pain. Every other creature in the room snaps their attention towards it. They all toss aside whoever they’re eating and converge on Ben.
He is drop kicked in the chest and sent hurtling into the wall, knocking the wind completely out of him. Juanito tries to intercede, only to be nailed with a chair to the side of the head. Badly hurt and struggling to breathe, Ben tries to regain his bearings. Through blurry eyes, he sees his attackers standing above him. Staring him down patiently, one begins to speak. It is draped head to toe in black leather and spiked jewelry. The face is covered in tattoos, most notably several swastikas around and between the eyes, “This blank is pretty tough, think we should recruit him?”
Another vampire jumps forward, “Hell no! He just killed Marco! I say we leave him alive for now, tie him up so we can finish him off real slow later. His shithead buddy here too.”
The leader responds with a boisterous giggle, “That’s why I love you man, you always have the best ideas, but I’ll do you one better. See if they’ve got ID on them. I think I wanna pay their families a visit tonight too.” The leader picks up Ben by the hair and sifts through his pockets, producing his wallet. He takes out his driver’s license and looks it over. Another steps on Juanito’s chest, pinning him to the floor and tosses his pockets as well. “Ah, there it is, home address. Oh, please, please tell me you have a family asshole. Wife maybe? Kids? Couple of cats, perhaps? Oh well, regardless, everyone in that house is dead, and I’m gonna make you watch. Tie him up.” Dropping Ben back down to the floor the vampire notices the blood on his fingertips from Ben's shredded scalp. He brings his fingers to his nose and gives them a cursory whiff, “Hewwwwwww! What is that? I’d rather drain rats than drink that nasty shit. What is it that you spics eat that makes your blood so fucking foul?”
“I dunno, maybe it’s the tacos, maybe the tequila, could be your mother’s pussy. It’s anybody’s guess really.” says Ben, raising his middle finger. In a flash, the finger is broken clean off and he’s being kicked in the ribs by three enraged assailants. Twenty solid shots land before the ringleader breaks it up.
“Enough! You’ll kill him way too soon. Tie them both up. We’ve wasted enough time on them for now. We need to get back to work. This attack has to be as bloody as possible. That’s how the forebear wants it and I for one am not planning on disappointing him.” With that, he goes back to expeditiously butchering the closest available victim. Another vamp approaches the cousins, producing a set of zip ties from its back pocket. It binds their feet and hands swiftly, and returns to the orgy of violence.
Everywhere Ben's eyes roam, all he can see is blood. A sanguine sea that is replete with floating cadavers envelops him. Piles of viscera stacked several feet high litter the floor. Just as the swirling torrent of slaughter begins to be too much for him to bear, one of the crashing planes slams right into the roof of the building. A hellish firestorm of ignited fuel and flying shrapnel tears through the room. Chunks of sizzling fuselage go careening into the back of a shocked vampire, knocking it to its knees.
Flames from the debris instantly jump onto its skin. In a fraction of a second, the whole of its body is ignited. Howling in agony and shaking like a leaf, it falls down in a face plant. The body crackles and sparks fly off it in all directions, spreading the already roaring fire. Much to Ben’s surprise, the demeanour of the creatures shifts from joyfully sadistic to that of terrified children. The vampires recoil in horror from the oppressive heat, retreating from the area as fast as they can manage.
The cousins see their opportunity and grab the nearest glass to cut themselves free of their restraints. Scanning the immediate area, Ben spots a piece of flaming wreckage small enough to carry with him, and Juanito follows suit. On the other side of a wall of flame, they spot the de facto leader of the vampires staring right at them. Unable to resist, Ben begins to taunt him, “What's the matter, bitch? Big tough guy Nazi can't handle a little fire? Just goes to prove what I've always said, white people are pussies.”
Flying into a rage, the vampire lets out a deafening howl, “Forget everything else! Bring me his fucking head!” The remaining vampires spring into action and rush Ben. Some, in their frenzy, move too close to the flames and are immolated on contact. Repeatedly swinging their flaming shields back and forth, the two desperate survivors manage to keep the rabid monsters at bay. One of the vamps breaks off and circles around behind them.
Juanito shouts, “Back to back!” Ben turns and slides up shoulder against shoulder with his cousin. Now surrounded on all sides by a cadre of hissing and screeching killing machines, they make their way towards the exit. The going is slow, due in large part to the number of defiled corpses littering the blood drenched floor. They only pause a second at a time to catch their breath and swat at their attackers.
A thick haze of acrid smoke hangs in the air. Juanito falls to one knee hacking and gasping for breath. One of the vampires tries to seize the opportunity to sink its teeth in, only to be intercepted by a sweeping strike from Ben’s makeshift weapon. He pulls Juanito back up to his feet and urges him on.
“Keep moving god damn it, we’re almost out! Just a little further and we’re to the parking lot. We just need to get to my car.”
Now rejoining the fracas, the lead vampire interrupts, “You just need to get to your car? Are you retarded? Do you honestly think that getting out of this building will help you at all? This attack is only the beginning. This entire city is going down, and it’s one of a hundred places this is happening. But hey, if you think it’ll help to lie to yourself, by all means go ahead.” His words cause the entire group to burst out in raucous laughter. Taking advantage of the momentary distraction, Juanito hurls his burning slab of wreckage at the leader’s face. He deftly avoids the incoming projectile just in the nick of time. The vampire standing behind him, however, is not so lucky.
Bursting into flames on contact, it convulses and squeals in pain as it collapses to the floor. Hitting the ground hard, its body explodes, spreading the fire to three others nearby, including the leader. The neo Nazi bloodsucker drops down and rolls back and forth furiously, while his underlings ignite in an ever growing daisy chain.
In the resulting confusion Ben grabs onto Juanito’s arm and yells, “Now’s our chance! Run!!!” They make a beeline for the parking lot as fast as their battered bodies can move. Legs pumping like pistons and sweat pouring from their brows, they manage to stay just ahead of the spreading inferno. At long last, they make it out of the building proper and both stumble to their knees, lungs frantically inhaling their first breath of clean air in several minutes. The parking lot is in no better shape than the terminal, with a slew of smashed vehicles littering the area.
On the horizon, they see that the destruction is not isolated to the airport. There is a veritable symphony of sirens, explosions and gunfire echoing from the landscape before them. Consumed by panic, Juanito exclaims, “What do we do? Jesus Christ Ben, what do we do?”
Ben grabs him by the shoulders, shaking him violently, “Stay calm bro, first thing we gotta do is get to my car. I’m not dealin’ with any more of those fucks without my gear. C’mon, it’s over this way.”
“If your car is here then it’s probably just as thrashed as the rest of this shit Ben.”
“It’s not the car we need. It’s what's in the trunk!”
They make their way through the maze of shredded metal and shattered glass. Hearing loud banging noises and angry snarling in their periphery, they hasten their pace. Finally, Ben’s Town Car comes into view. Despite broken windows and myriad dents, it is very much intact. Excitedly popping the trunk, Ben smiles at his cousin, “Take your pick.” Juanito’s eyes light up when he looks inside. Two semi automatic shotguns, an AK-47, a box of grenades and half a dozen handguns of varying calibre glisten in the moonlight. Juanito takes the AK in his hands and slides a forty four magnum into his waistband. Ben helps himself to a shotgun and a snub nosed thirty eight.
A familiar voice approaching from behind them sends shivers down their spines, “There they are! For fuck’s sake! Somebody kill these mother fuckers!” As they turn to face him, they see the effects the flames have had on the vampire commander. His face is melted down to the bone. Chunks of skin and rendered tissue still drip from his scalded cheeks. From the neck down his clothing has been fused to his blackened flesh, and the right arm is missing below the elbow. Two of his cohorts run past him and lunge, fangs bared, eyes fixated on Juanito’s jugular.
He opens fire with the AK-47, spraying the area in front of him. The clip is emptied in a matter of seconds, slowing the vampire’s advance. It is just long enough for Ben to rush forward and fire a 12 gauge slug directly into the skull of one of the oncoming attackers. The wound leaves a cave where its face used to be, but to his surprise it doesn’t fall down. As the beast lumbers forward sputtering and flailing its arms, Ben fires again. The second blast splinters the head into a fine pink mist, finishing the job. Turning his attention to its comrade too late, the shotgun is knocked out of Ben's hands before he can get a clean shot.
Throat grasped in one hand, it rears back the other, preparing to perform some elective cardiac surgery. Taking the opportunity to strike while it is distracted, Juanito produces the magnum from his waist and fires three shots. One round strikes in the ear, another in the creature’s wrist, breaking its grip on Ben's windpipe. Ben draws his 38 and puts the barrel to the vampire’s temple, emptying all six rounds point blank. With the vampire stunned, Ben dives for his shotgun, Juanito covering him with the last three 44 magnum rounds. Snatching up his weapon, Ben spins about and begins unloading shell after shell into the body of the remaining attacker, transforming its entire torso into a pulverized slab of raw meat.
As they sprint back to the trunk to reload their guns, they realize that the leader has abstained from the frontal assault. He hasn’t even budged from his perch, some thirty yards away. Swelling with new found confidence and surging with adrenaline, Ben hurls more insults, “What’s up, crispy? Don’t got the balls to come at me yourself, huh? Gonna stand there with your dick in your hand while me and my cuz take out all your boys?”
Fangs coated with blood form a wicked grin, “Normally, I would kill you myself, but I have a much better idea. You see...” He pulls a small piece of flesh off of his own chest, scraping at it with his fingers to reveal a thin section of plastic. With a self satisfied giggle, he holds the plastic aloft, “I still have your home addresses.” This vampire has no interest in a fair fight. Cowards of any species always prefer defenceless victims. These humans are tough, but one of them was bound to have family who will make an easier target. A barely perceptible blur streaks off towards their neighbourhood. Ben climbs into the driver’s seat of his car. Juanito jumps into the passenger seat and they peel out of the parking lot into the chaos of the city.