Scott parked in the almost empty parking lot of the old Amalgamated Cast Parts Plant, got out of his car, and walked toward the building. The hard rain drove into the asphalt around him, and the halogen lot lights cast an unnatural illumination on the wet surface. He did not notice anyone else around, the only other car in the lot being a long black Lincoln Continental. He walked toward the main door of the abandoned business, his senses on alert. He reached for the handle, pulled the door open, and stepped inside. "Hello? Dawn? Anyone?" Scott called, his voice echoing in the spacious lobby.
"Well, hello, Scott," Jack's voice came from the shadows. "We're so glad you could make it. So is Dawn. Not that she's especially happy to see you, but I think she'd rather not die horribly."
"Where is she?"
Jack stepped out of the shadows, followed by Bill and Sheila. "First things first. Why don't you take off that jacket? My, that's a nice one, looks kinda like mine. You've got taste now. I'd like to think that was my doing. You can just toss it on that couch, over by the window."
Scott took off his leather jacket and tossed it on the brown Naugahyde sofa. Jack motioned to Sheila, who moved to greet Scott.
"So, you're Scott Campbell, huh?" she asked. "I don't see what the fuss is all about. Anyway, put your arms out to the sides."
Sheila then began patting Scott down, searching for possible weapons. It seemed much more than a cursory frisk to Scott, since he felt that Sheila's search technique was a little too intimate, especially when it came to his crotch. "Hey! Watch it!"
"Well, honey, you sure got something down there, and I need to be thorough."
"Jack, what's with the TSA treatment?"
"Funny you should mention that," Jack said. "Sheila here was—still is—an employee of the Transportation Security Administration. So she's skilled, ain't that right, darlin'?"
"He's clean," Sheila declared.
"Good. Then let us escort Mr. Campbell back to see his little girlfriend, shall we?"
The three vampires walked Scott down a long, dark hallway that led from the lobby past various empty offices and down onto the factory floor. Old crates and stacked pallets gave way to open floor—and Dawn, still attached to the old wooden chair with flex ties, her back toward the hallway.
"Dawn!" Scott shouted as he ran to her.
"Scott!" she cried as Scott dropped to his knees next to the chair, embracing the frightened young woman.
"I'm so sorry, Dawn. I'll get you out of here. I promise; I'll get you out."
"Scott, what's going on? First, these guys kidnap me and then I'm here, and these other guys burst into flames, and then they tell me about vampires, and this Jack guy tells me it's all about you. I don't understand this—"
"No, no, no!" Jack said. "I hate to interrupt your happy little reunion, but it's not all about Scott! It's all about me! Get it right."
"Okay, Jack, you've got me. Now let her go," Scott demanded.
"Let her go? Oh, I don't know. You two look so happy together. You happy that your boyfriend is here to rescue you, darlin'?"
"He's not my boyfriend. We're just friends," Dawn said.
"Ow! Friend-zoned! Geez, that's gotta hurt! Dang, Scott, what is wrong with you? You got that vampire charm, and you haven't popped that cherry yet? I mean, that is a fine piece of ass right here!"
Scott almost jumped right into Jack's face. "Her name is Dawn. Now let. Her. Go."
"Oh yeah? What if I decide I don't wanna let her go?"
"Let her go, or else!"
"Or else what? I'm on a tight schedule, so make it snappy."
"Oh, I'll think of something! Just you wait!"
"Yeah. I know you will."
Jack stepped back, his eyes shifting slightly. What Scott should have recognized as a subtle signal to another vampire went unnoticed. Dawn was paying more attention to Scott, so neither she nor Scott noticed Sheila reaching for the Taser that she carried concealed in a belt rig. Sheila pulled out the Taser and launched the barbed projectiles into Scott's back. He felt the impact and turned in the direction of its source. Dawn screamed. All this was too late: Scott writhed in pain and then dropped to the floor.
What do ya know. Here's something else that will stop a vampire: twenty thousand volts of electricity, Scott reflected as he slipped out of consciousness while Sheila kept pressure on the trigger.
***
"Do you know what time it is, Jeremiah?" Elizabeth said into the antique-style phone's handset.
"Elizabeth, we are creatures of the night. Why are you even in bed at such an early hour?"
"Goddamn it, it's three in the fucking morning!"
"I need your help."
"What is it?"
"Scott. He has turned himself over to Jack."
"Oh shit! Jack? Okay, talk to me. Where is he?"
"At an abandoned factory in North Portland. They took a friend of his. He thought he had to turn himself over to them so they would let her go."
"Her? Oh, you don't mean that asshole Jack took a human woman, did he? Aw, Christ! Okay, I'm coming to pick you up. Are you at Ministry?"
"Yes. But we must be careful. Jack told Scott not to call anyone for help. Our presence may endanger him."
"Well, truth be known, it may endanger us as well. Jack has one of our obelisks."
"Oh no. You don't mean—"
"Yeah. A ward. And he'll likely have it set to keep us out."
"Damn."
"Still, I'm coming. If it provides me a chance to kill Jack and some of his bastard children, I'm definitely interested."
Elizabeth hung up. Jeremiah went outside and stood on the steps of the rectory in the driving rain, waiting.
***
Scott woke to the sound of thumping.
He opened his eyes to the sight of Dawn standing forward in the wooden chair, lifting it with all her might and slamming it back down, wooden legs crashing against the concrete floor.
"God, Dawn," Scott said. "What are you doing? I already have a raging headache."
"I'm trying to break this chair!" she whispered before crashing it against the floor once more. "Maybe I can get the arms and legs loose this way."
"Why are you whispering? With all that noise, it's kinda pointless."
"Well, I'm sorry! Since your rescue attempt was going so well, I just thought maybe I'd help."
The sarcasm was unexpected from her. Scott actually kind of liked the change of attitude and thought that there was more to the young lady than he'd previously bargained. He looked around and noticed they were no longer on the factory floor but were instead in a different, somewhat smaller room. And even worse, they were now in a large cage. A shiny silver-colored cage that surrounded them almost completely except for the concrete floor.
A silver cage, Scott wondered. Where have I heard of a silver cage before?
The door of the room opened. Dawn immediately ceased her activity. Scott slowly stood up. In walked Jack, followed by what looked to be a priest, a tall, trim, brown-haired man wearing a black clerical shirt with collar. Scott reached for the bars and attempted to grab them, only for his hands to be burned. He pulled away in pain, his hands still sizzling.
"Silver, Scott," Jack said. "Didn't I teach you anything? This silver cage is a gift from one of my newer kids. Guys, meet Father Aidan Donegan."
"The Father Donegan of Ministry?" Scott asked. "Why? How could you switch sides like this? What made you betray the very things you used to believe?"
"Leukemia," Donegan replied. "I was dying. Jack here, he gave me life."
"And what about eternal life, Father? Didn't that figure in?"
Donegan shook his head. "My faith is weak. I didn't want to gamble on heaven. Jack offered me an alternative. Now I can live and never experience death! Jack gave me so much more than the church or God ever gave me."
"So your thirty pieces of silver was to become a monster? And to return the favor, you gave Jack this cage? That's some trade-off."
"I don't get you, Campbell. You have been given a great gift, powers unimaginable, and you want to return to the way you were? I don't get you. At all."
"No, padre," Jack said. "Scott refuses to acknowledge the gifts given to him by his dear, loving father. That's me, by the way."
"I had a father," Scott growled. "He was a good, decent man. You are not my father!"
Jack leaned in toward Scott, his face darkening. "No, Scott. I am your father." He then turned, giggling, to Donegan. "I've always wanted to say that!"
"So what now, Jack? How are you going to convince me to do your bidding? If you harm Dawn, you get nothing. Do you hear me?"
"When was the last time you had any of that bagged blood, Scott? Yesterday? Day before? You know, it does take a few days for the bloodlust to start kicking in. And when that happens, you can't stop it. You will devour any human being in your path. So no, I am not going to harm Dawn. You are going to do that for me. Then we'll see where your loyalties really lie."
Jack and the turncoat priest then walked out of the room, leaving Dawn and Scott alone, the door shutting loudly and ominously behind them.
"S-so it's...true?" Dawn stammered. "You...you're...one of them?"
"It's...complicated, Dawn."
"Well, uncomplicate it for me. Are you or are you not a vampire?"
Scott sighed. "Well. Yeah. I am a vampire. Not like them, though. Look, I didn't want this. I didn't want any of this. Especially not...this, this. I can tell you how it was forced on me, how I never wanted any harm to come to anyone, especially not you. But all that just sounds like a bunch of excuses. I'm sorry, Dawn, for all of this."
"You're not going to suck my blood, are you?"
"That's not my plan. But there's this thing called the bloodlust. A vampire needs to feed. I've been living on donated, bagged blood. That's how most vampires do it, to keep ourselves off the front page. But if we don't keep that up, after a while, we sort of go crazy, and off the wagon we fall."
"So...you are going to kill me."
"No, Dawn, I'm not going to kill you. No one is going to kill you. We are going to find a way out of this cage, I swear."
"Oh really? How?"
"I don't know...I'm making this up as I go along. You don't happen to have any good ideas, do you?"
Dawn paused briefly. "You could turn me."
The thought horrified Scott. Dawn was now consenting to be made a monster herself. It repulsed him as much as the idea of drinking from her veins. It was not a fate he wished upon this promising young lady, or anyone else. "What? Seriously? That is not a good idea! Dawn, I couldn't do that! Not to you!"
"If it will help us defeat Jack, then I'm willing to make that sacrifice. Deny Jack his prize. Turn me into...what you are."
"Dawn, you do not want to be what I am."
"Scott, desperate times call for desperate measures. And we're pretty darn desperate here."
"Really, Dawn? You have no idea what this whole vampire thing is all about. To deal with passions and desires you've never dealt with, to be something you were never meant to be. Okay, so, there are some cool things about it, like immortality and super strength and stuff like that, but it's really not a good trade-off, believe me. Here's a good example: I used to crave a really good hamburger. You know, made with ground chuck and melting cheddar cheese and bacon...oh yeah, bacon—"
"You're making me hungry."
"I was? Where was I? Oh yeah. Hamburger...anyway, you know what I'm talking about. Now, you no longer crave hamburger. It's nothing to you. What you crave is human flesh. Human blood. Mmmm, human blood."
"Now you're creeping me out."
"See what I mean? Trust me, you don't want this. The fact is, undeath may be a worse fate than death itself. So, no, I cannot curse you the way I've been cursed. Believe me when I say that you'd be better off dead. So would I, probably, but here I am."
Dawn started slamming her chair against the concrete floor again. "Enough of the defeatist attitude. We are getting out of here."
Scott smiled at her gumption. "You just don't quit, do you?" Before she could answer, a thought came to him. Then he mused, There's no way it could work. No way. But it beats doing nothing. What the hell. Might as well try.
"Dawn, stop making all that racket. You know one of the perks of being a vampire? The ability to break things real good..."
***
Elizabeth crouched catlike on the berm on the south side of the slough, across from the Amalgamated Cast Parts Plant, concealed by bushes and a row of poplars. As a vampire, she did not need much night vision equipment or binoculars; besides, the area was fairly well lit, even at 3:45 a.m. She was attired in a black BDU top and pants that were bloused into Danner Fort Lewis boots, an equipment-bearing vest, and a tactical thigh holster in preparation for what she knew lay ahead.
"Yeah," she said, "it looks easy enough to get into. You've got those roll-up doors on the side there. The only guards they have there are those two morons in the old cop car. I don't see any real activity. Somehow, I didn't think I would, though."
"We probably should have brought more men," Jeremiah said.
"Naw, I'm good. Besides, one riot, one ranger, right? This would be a piece of cake if it weren't for that goddamned obelisk."
"Yes. Sadly, I was unable to find any other agents of Ministry to join us, but I am not sure they are needed."
"You and I can handle this," Elizabeth said as she stood up, stepping down from the berm and toward her BMW. Jeremiah followed her. "It was good to see Allan again, wasn't it?"
"Allan? I suppose it was. Why does that come to mind?"
"I noticed you two talking before the trial. Seemed pretty heated. Probably it's none of my business, although I'm curious about the nature of your relationship."
"I do not mind telling. I was his sire."
"No shit? That's...weird. That would make you...never mind."
"Make me what?"
"Never mind. Forget I mentioned it."
She popped the trunk on her BMW. It was filled with weapons of every description. Elizabeth opened a metal case and removed a Colt Combat Elite .45 pistol. She press-checked it to ensure it was loaded, flicked the safety on, and then put it in the thigh holster. She also took a sword, the same falcata she had threatened Scott with a lifetime ago, and placed it in a kydex sheath on her left side.
"I was afraid I wouldn't have enough room back here," Elizabeth said. "I could have brought more weapons if I'd taken the SUV."
"Or a minivan, perhaps."
"Vampires don't drive minivans." She then removed a large black firearm from the trunk.
"What the hell is that?"
"Atchisson AA-12. Selective-fire twelve-gauge shotgun. Takes a twenty-round drum magazine or eight-round boxes." Elizabeth found the large drum and rammed it home. "It's loaded with warheads, of course, combination of three-inch magnum sabot slugs and triple-aught buckshot. Guaranteed to kill everything, living or not, in its path."
As she held the huge shotgun with one arm, Elizabeth reached in the trunk and found another sword, a replica of a Roman gladius. She tossed it to Jeremiah. He caught it and then drew it from the scabbard.
"This is a good sword. It handles very much like an original," Jeremiah said.
"Yeah, you would know."
"Wait a moment. Don't I get any guns?"
"If you wanted to play, you should have brought your own toys. I think you should sneak up on those creeps in the Chevy. I prefer a more direct route. Wait for my signal; it should be obvious."
"Very well. That works for me. What's the plan, then?"
"The plan? Simple: kill them all," Elizabeth said as she chambered a round into the Atchisson.
***
The Norway rat strayed into the cage looking for new sources of food. He paid no attention to the human female or the vampire, which was much to his misfortune. Scott grabbed the medium-size rodent and lifted it, squealing, to his mouth. He deployed his fangs and bit into the creature, ending its life and sucking its essence. By the way, rat tasted exactly like Scott thought it would—gross and definitely unhygienic.
"Eeewwww!" Dawn exclaimed. "You're eating a rat?"
Scott looked at her, his lips moist with rodent blood. "Well, it beats eating you! I'm not proud." Disgusted with the taste of rat blood, he tossed the little corpse out of the cage.
"You'd rather eat a rat than me? I don't know how to take that," Dawn said, an awkward grin appearing on her lovely, tear-stained face.
"Making lemonade from lemons, or something like that, I guess. I sure wish someone would come in here soon so we can see if this plan works."
"Yeah, this chair is really unstable. I hope it holds together long enough."
Scott noticed that Dawn was trying to balance the chair, which had been made structurally unsound a few minutes earlier as part of his plan. "Well, you're lightweight and well balanced," he said.
"Wow, you sure know how to compliment a girl."
"Does that give me any points?"
"Not really. You're really not good around women, are you?"
"No, I'm really not. Most of my life, I've been too shy, too unsure of myself, to approach girls. Heck, I can't even talk to them."
"Scott, you know how to talk to girls? Like they're people. That's all."
"Even the pretty ones, like you?"
Dawn blushed. "Pretty? You think so?"
"Yeah, doesn't everyone? You know, I don't know how I ever got Laura to notice me. Well, she fixed that, didn't she?"
"You didn't deserve that. You're a kind, caring, humble man who deserves to be loved as much as anyone."
"I don't know about that. I mean, I am a murderous monster now."
"How many people have you killed?"
"Well...I almost killed one guy. But he's okay, I guess."
"Almost? Scott, you are not a murderer. Not even close. Your heart may not be alive, but what's in there is still good."
"You actually see that in me?"
"Yeah, I do."
"And I see things in you, too, Dawn. I see your character. I see your strength."
"Me? Strong? I'm not strong." The tears came to her eyes again. "In fact, I don't think I'm taking this very well at all."
"You're taking it like a human being. And that's the best anyone can ask for."
The door of the room opened. Bill and Sheila entered, Sheila carrying a small white bag and a sword. She was wearing thin leather gloves. She lay the sword on a crate that was situated between the door and the cage and then removed a key from her pocket. She unlocked the padlock on the cage and opened the cage door wide, her gloves protecting her vampiric hands from burning. She stepped in, pulling the Taser from her belt and pointing it at Scott. She dropped the bag at Dawn's feet.
"You like moo goo gai pan, sweetie?" Sheila asked. "I hope so, 'cause that's what we got." She then dropped to her knees in front of the girl. "We need to keep you fed, spice your blood up a bit, so Mr. Campbell here will really enjoy it."
Scott stepped forward. "Knock it off, now!" he demanded.
Sheila thrust the Taser at him. "Now, calm down, Scott. There's another reason why we're here, and that's to encourage you. Jack thought that, just maybe, if we motivated you a bit, you might be a bit quicker to comply with the agenda."
"Motivation? How's that?" Scott asked.
"Well, Bill and I are going to do a little bloodletting. I mean, Dawn is going to do a little bloodletting. We have some scalpels—surgical grade, so she doesn't get an infection. Don't want the poor dear catching some disease and dying before you get the chance to taste that sweet, fresh blood. So, Bill, if you would..."
Bill checked his pockets but did not find what he was looking for. "Uh, I don't have 'em."
"You don't have them? Where the hell are they?"
"I think I left them in the room with the TV. Yeah, pretty sure I did."
"Well, go and get them, you moron!"
Bill immediately left the room, the door shutting behind him. Sheila rolled her eyes. "That white boy is so stupid! But he's cheap, I guess. Anyway, we can still have us some fun, honey." She once again bent over, her face close to Dawn's.
"Like hell!" Scott roared as he moved to attack Sheila—just in time to get hit by her Taser. He dropped to the floor as Sheila stood over him, not continuously holding the trigger but occasionally jerking on it, sending waves of electric pain into his twitching body.
"You know, Jack thought another way to motivate you may be through the application of pain. Maybe I'll give it a try." Sheila jerked the trigger of the Taser again, and another deluge of pain ripped through Scott. "Well, motivating or not, I'm havin' fun. Aren't you?"
"Leave him alone!" Dawn cried.
Sheila laughed. Dawn then stood forward, rocked the chair back, and slammed it against the floor, much as she had before. Only now the compromised chair shattered, allowing Dawn to free herself as her arms and legs slipped from restraints. She grabbed a broken, jagged chair leg and lifted it high above herself. She lashed out at Sheila, who turned to face Dawn, only to watch Dawn plunge the chair leg into her chest, exactly where it was meant to go. Sheila released the Taser, dropped to her knees, and then collapsed into a pile of ash and dust.
"Suck on that, bitch!" Dawn growled. Scott lay there staring at her, his eyes opened wide in awe and even a little bit of fear. Sweet little Dawn, the choirgirl, the nice girl, had just single-handedly taken out a vampire. He couldn't have been more proud.
"What?" Dawn asked him.
"I didn't say anything." Scott pulled the barbs out of his chest and rose.
"Let's get out of here."
"Okay, but I'm going to have to ask you to hold the door for me. Silver and I don't get along these days."
Dawn made sure the cage door was opened wide as Scott stepped out and went over to the low wooden crate where Sheila had left her sword. He picked up the blade, a reproduction of a medieval single-handed arming sword. "Okay, follow me," Scott said. But then he stopped Dawn in her tracks, his senses picking up on quiet movement out in the hall. "Someone's coming."
"I don't hear any—"
Dawn was silenced by the creaking of the door to the large room as Donegan stepped in, saber in hand, cautious but unaware. He did not notice Scott behind him as he suddenly felt the tip of the arming sword against the flesh of his neck.
"Don't move, Father," Scott advised. Of course, Donegan disregarded the advice, spinning around to parry Scott's blade. He then lunged at Scott, who sidestepped the attack and brought his sword down upon Donegan's right arm, severing it completely. His saber clanged to the ground. Donegan cried out in agony and then fell to his knees. Once again, Scott's blade was at the fallen priest's throat.
"Please, have mercy on me," Donegan begged. "I was weak. I didn't want to die. I don't want to die."
"Well, I'm sorry—but, oh hell. No, I'm not," Scott said as he brought the sword down upon Donegan's neck, severing his head. The priest disintegrated.
"You killed a priest," Dawn gasped.
"Correction: evil vampire priest."
"Good point."
Scott poked his head out of the open door and looked down the hall. "Okay, I see a door down there. That must be the lobby. Ready?"
"More than ready."
"Okay, on my count: one, two, and three!"
Scott took Dawn's hand and led her down the long, dark hallway to the lobby. The offices that lined the hallway were all dark, including the one Bill had entered to look for the surgical scalpels, where he had been distracted by an old copy of Hustler that had been left by along-since downsized employee. His attention was drawn from that by the sight ofDawn and Scott running past the window. He looked down the hall in the direction of the lobby to where the escaping couple had run. Seeing that Scott now had Sheila's sword, he thought it better not to engage Scott by himself but bided his time in the office, waiting. And looking through that issue of Hustler once more.