Harbinger began to change, throwing his head back as if he were in great pain, and then twisting it from side to side. He fell to his knees, hands scraping along the pavement. Bones twisted, flowed, and re-formed. His spine pushed up and out along the top of his back. Skin stretched and ripped as pale hair exploded from every pore.
The others did not wait to watch the transformation. Instead they sprang into action. Sam jumped into the rift after Milo. Holly threw a tourniquet around Lee's leg, and Julie ordered the other Hunters to drag Lee and Grant to safety. I stood transfixed like an idiot.
The transformation continued as the vampire waited, patiently readying itself for a great battle. Harbinger opened his mouth and razor-sharp teeth thrust out of his extending jaw. His pants ripped as his knees reversed direction. Claws exploded through the ends of his boots and he kicked the useless things away. When his eyes opened, they were a predatory gold. He fixated on the vampire, and howled, the sound echoing for miles. Harbinger surged to his feet, clawed arms thrown wide, the last vestiges of humanity disappearing to be replaced with pure animal power. The howl continued, growing in intensity and bristling rage.
If Mr. Huffman had been a normal werewolf, Harbinger had to be some sort of mutant super werewolf. I could sense the power, every ounce of his human form turned into a perfect killing machine. Coiled strength, steel masquerading as muscle. I slowly reached up and felt the scar on my face. It was the most terrifying thing I had ever seen.
Harbinger launched himself forward, leaping into the air. The Master did so as well. The two titans collided in midair with a crash like thunder, nearly twenty feet above the ground. They plummeted to earth in a spray of mud, claws and fangs flying, impossibly fast, shadows spinning and lashing out, backlit by the fire. Red blood and black ichor sprayed as they tore into each other's flesh. It was a contest of wills, immortal speed and primal strength.
"Owen!" Julie shouted. "We've got to move!" The others had already jumped through the rift. A moaning Lee was being fireman-carried back toward the National Guard. I hurried after her, turning one last time to watch the magnificent battle: Harbinger suspended in air, tearing down at the vampire, and the Master driving its claws upwards into its foe. It was an astounding display. Julie grabbed me by my armor and pulled me through the rift.
DeSoya Caverns were quiet. The last of the wights were twitching on the ground—shot, chopped or pulverized into nondangerous pieces. Sam extended his good arm and hauled Milo to his feet. Holly was splattered with Lee's blood, and there was far too much of it.
The rift closed behind us. I swore and jumped aside, just barely missing being caught as it scissored shut. I did not want to dwell on what would have happened if part of me had still been on the other side.
"Well, we're committed now," Sam grunted, holding his broken arm tenderly.
"Earl's a werewolf?" I blurted.
"Well, yeah, I'll explain later. What's our status?" Julie ordered, settling subconsciously into command mode. She scanned her flashlight across the vast interior chamber, illuminating the huge area beyond the pale glow of the light sticks. The stone glimmered wetly.
"Heck if I know," Milo wheezed.
"Lee was hurt pretty bad. I tried to stop the bleeding, but he's going to need a real doctor real fast," Holly said. "Poor Gus. His head just came off . . ."
"I know . . . but we can't do anything for either of them now. Holly, are you okay?"
"Fine. I'm fine."
"Sam, how's that arm?"
"Done broke it," he said. "Stupid vampire. I ain't broke a bone since I gave up bull-riding."
"Can you fight?"
He snorted. "I got a spare." His forearm dangled in such a crooked direction that it made me slightly ill just looking at it. Sam had to have been in horrible pain, but he ignored it.
"Let's sling it up at least so it isn't banging on things. Milo?"
"Sore, but otherwise all right. Lost my carbine though," he answered as he wiped the blood from a cut on his shaved head.
Sam tossed over his .45-70. "Not gonna do me much good with one arm anyhow. Careful, that there's a man's gun. Got recoil that'll put hair on your chest. I still got my pistol."
"Owen?"
"Good to go," I answered. I saw from the still-twitching remains that the wights had once been federal agents. I picked up an FN SCAR off of the floor and checked the chamber. The government guys got all the cool new gear. It was loaded. Full mag in the gun, 20 rounds of their composite silver .308 on tap. The mounted flashlight worked as well. I kept the Fed gun in hand and let Abomination hang. I only had a few of Mordechai's magic shells left and I wasn't about to waste them on a wight. If we were to run into one of the Masters, I wanted to have some of the good stuff available.
"Where's Grant?" Milo asked as he quickly shoved extra shells into Sam's gun.
"Still on top with the others," Julie said. "Probably safer up there . . . unless Earl eats him . . . Where's Trip?"
"We lost track of him when we had that big explosion," I answered. I hoped that he was still alive, but I was starting to have my doubts.
"I think I killed him." Holly spoke quietly.
"It isn't your fault," I snapped. "You did what you had to do, otherwise that thing would have done to all of us what it did to Gus."
"I just wish that I hadn't been so mean to him. . . . He was such a sweet guy," she muttered. "Damn it. He deserved better."
"No time for that." When the chips were down, Julie was all business. "We need to hurry. Owen, which way to this secret portal?"
I glanced around, getting my bearings. Everything looks different when you have eyeballs. "That way." I gestured. "I'll take point," I said as I started between the rock formations.
She hesitated, probably thinking about having somebody else do it. Being the tip of the spear was the most dangerous position. "Just don't get killed," Julie admonished. "I would miss your charming personality."
"Why thanks," I replied.
"Plus we need you to open the door."
I went forward, stabbing the light ahead and also occasionally upwards, looking for any suspended vampires. There were millions of spots in the cavern where danger could lurk. Visions of Gus's tottering headless corpse flashed unbidden into my mind. I stepped over the smashed remains of a historical display and kicked the severed guide ropes out of the way. The five of us moved quickly but cautiously. Every pass of the flashlight illuminated new formations, age-old deposits, twisted clumps of rock and sediment. Every strange shape that revealed itself caused me to jump. The walls shone as our lights struck smooth surfaces.
There was something ahead, a darker shadow on the already dark floor. I held up my fist, the signal to freeze. The rustling of armor let me know that the others had responded. I gestured ahead with my flashlight. There was a hole in the ground, a pit. It was a natural formation, and the guide ropes that had surrounded it to keep the tourists from falling in had been torn and tossed aside. I leaned forward, letting the Surefire illuminate the gash in the rock. I was struck with a sense of foreboding.
"Oh no . . ." I gagged as the smell of torn open bodies hit my nostrils. "Oh no."
Julie drew alongside and shined her flashlight into the hole. She grimaced. "Vampire pen." A look of disgust crossed her face as she stared into the pile of corpses. "Poor things."
I recalled the patients of Appleton Asylum. One of the survivors in their sharing circle had spoken of such a thing. Human captives held in a hole, serving as a vampire larder. Fed upon until they were almost dead, but then being left barely alive, as the undead rotated through their food. Allowed to regain their strength just enough to be bled again. There had to be ten people crammed in the hole, though they were all obviously dead now. The vampires must have feasted in preparation for this day.
Holly shoved her way past me, looking downward, biting her lip.
"Are you okay?" Julie asked her softly.
She held her glove under her nose to block the smell, then st
ayed focused on the bodies as she slowly spoke. "You have no idea what it's like."
"No, I don't."
"The weakness, the fear, the pain, the humiliation. You just want to die. Most folks do after the first couple feedings. They just give up. Then the fuckers pull the body out and chop it up and send it back down to you, and the thing is by then you're so hungry you don't care. You can't see. You don't know how long you've been in. No light. No air. Strangers pushing on you." There was a small crack in her hard emotional shield, but instead of sadness, there was only anger. "Trying to hide when they come down to feed. All of them scared, just cattle, stupid meat. And when they bite you, it hurts so bad. But at the same time you can feel them, and part of you wants to join them, you want to be them, and that's the worst part of all."
"But you're okay now," Julie assured her. "You made it out."
Holly removed an incendiary grenade from a pouch on her armor. "Damn right I did." She pulled the pin and tossed it into the pit. "And when I eventually die—" The grenade exploded with a puff of flames, spreading out over the corpses, igniting their clothing and hair, burning skin and crackling fat, destroying them beyond the point of return. "—I'll need you guys to do this for me."
So that was Holly Newcastle's story.
"Good luck, friends," she whispered.
I patted her gently on the shoulder. She grimly hoisted her rifle and stepped away from the edge as oily smoke began to fill the cavern.
We pushed forward, away from the smell of burning hair and bone, deeper into the cavern, moving faster as nothing appeared to attack us. The portal was near. I could feel it. The section that we were entering had been roped off from the public, and it looked as if some sort of excavation had taken place. I illuminated a small information plaque.
I scanned the words. Some of them caught my eye. "Well, I'll be damned," I exclaimed. "Check this out." The others drew close.
Sam read the inscription aloud: "This section of the cavern is believed to have been a burial ground for the ancient peoples of the region . . . Blah, blah, blah, over two thousand years old, yada yada, great significance, evidence of ancient writing that may be an indication of an even older civilization . . . excavated in 1984 by, no shit . . . Dr. Jonas Turley and a team from the University of Alabama."
"That's what the seven were looking for. That's why they attacked his home," Julie said. "Of course . . . Dr. Turley probably found the portal, but didn't know what it was or how to open it. The Cursed One must have known about this place all along . . . but then why did they need my dad?"
"Hello there, honey." A sweet voice sang from the darkness.
I spun around and shined the flashlight on the spot. Nothing.
"Mom," Julie hissed. She swung her M14 around in an arc, searching for a target. Milo, Sam and Holly did likewise. Five sets of lights crisscrossed the cave. I could not hear anything over our nervous breathing. "Come out and fight!" she shouted into the dark, her voice echoing over and over.
"No. I don't want to fight you." The voice came from one side. I thought that perhaps I had caught a tiny bit of movement as the light flickered past. "You're my daughter. We don't need to be enemies." Now from the other side. I swung back around. Damn Masters are fast.
"What do you want, then?" Julie demanded. Milo cracked more glow sticks and tossed them into the dark, giving us a little bit larger circle of illumination.
"I want us to be a family again, me and you and little Nate. I know he's up there, too." Her voice came from the ceiling above our heads. Holly cranked off a shot into the rocks, it ricocheted across the cavern, and Susan's laughter rose behind us.
"Wait until you've got a target," Sam ordered.
"All of us, even your daddy. One big happy family," Susan said pleasantly. I began to shiver as I felt her probing our minds.
"Too late for that. You killed him. The Feds have probably already burned the body." Julie's eyes narrowed as she searched the shadows, cheek resting on the stock of her rifle.
"Oh, honey. Once again, you think you know what's going on. You always thought you had everything figured out. Do you really think somebody like good old Myers would cut your daddy's head off if he thought that there might be some information in there of use? I've known Myers since he was a Newbie. He was always a cold-hearted son of a gun. Always practical. You know your daddy trained him, right? You would think he would be sentimental just once and would have done his old mentor a favor and finished him off."
"What are you saying?"
"Your daddy's alive." She put the accent on alive, almost as if she was singing it. "Well, not really alive, as you know, but something so much better."
"Lying bitch!" Julie shouted.
"Wait, there's more," Susan laughed. "The Feds were expecting some easy-to-handle, wimpy, new creation . . .
A weak new vampire. You had your daddy for two nights. I visited him the first night and you never even knew. He was so happy to see me. He would have done anything I asked of him. He even partook of my blood. You know what that means, don't you?"
"I'm going to stake you if it's the last thing I do," Julie vowed.
"You didn't answer my question, but of course you know. As soon as he died, he rose again, far stronger than they expected. He's already escaped. He's returning to me as we speak. His mind will heal. He'll be whole again. Isn't that wonderful, honey? One big happy family." There was a whoosh of air, and then Susan's laughter sounded from back the way that we had come.
"Owen . . . find that gate," Sam whispered. I turned back to the wall, desperately running my hands over the cool rock, looking for some indication of the Place of Power.
"Oh, my darling Sam. I can hear you. No need to whisper. That's impolite amongst friends. I always loved you for your heart and your courage. You can come with us too. Join my family."
He scowled and spit tobacco juice on the ground. "Susan, you were a mighty fine woman when you were alive and all, but personally I'd rather be gang-raped by giant, rabid, syphilitic porcupines, than join your shithead, hippie-commune, undead family, you scrawny-ass, vampire skank whore." He wiped his good arm across his mustache. "It's gonna be a cold day in hell before you've got the balls to come down here and take an ounce of red American blood out of Sam Roger Haven, you slack-jawed, hare-lip, monkey-humping pus bag."
"So be it. Still stubborn as ever. And Milo. Faithful Milo. So loyal. So creative. I have a place of honor set aside for you."
"Uh . . . what Sam said, and stuff," Milo answered bravely. "Leave us alone. We aren't here for you. We just want Lord Machado. You don't want the world destroyed."
"Honey, my world is going to be just fine." She sounded closer now, right outside our circle of glow sticks, somehow evading the beams of our flashlights. She was coming for us, and soon.
I continued to rub my hands over the rock. I needed a seam, a crack, some carvings, anything. The portal had to be here somewhere. I could feel it. In my dream it had just opened right up for the Cursed One. Julie glanced at me anxiously. They were counting on me.
"Last chance, kids." Susan sang. "I'm getting tired of screwing around."
"Z! Hurry!" Holly pleaded. "We need to go!"
"Working on it," I answered.
"Here she comes," Sam said, raising his Sig and aiming it into the dark. Mist swirled around the beam from his pistol-mounted M3 light. The mist coalesced into the form of a woman. She was too close. We wouldn't be able to put her down in time. Other shapes began to emerge from behind her, shuffling slowly toward us, red eyes coming into focus. Wights. At least a dozen of them at first, and then more, lots more. Red eyes seemingly winking into existence all across the cavern. They were bristling and snarling, held at bay only by the Master vampire's command.
"Susan! Don't make me hurt you!" Milo said as he stepped in front of the others. "I know the real you has to be in there somewhere. You can still repent of your evil ways. It's never too late. Don't make it come to this!"
"Milo? Get out of t
he way!" Julie ordered as she pushed around me, looking for a good angle.
"You want to test your faith against me? What, do you think this is a Dracula movie or something?" Susan's dark silhouette laughed as she batted her glowing eyes. "I'm way out of your league, honey."
Milo Anderson closed his eyes and bowed his head, the lower half of his face disappearing into his bushy beard. He appeared to be praying. He did not move as Susan slowly walked toward him. Not even a tremble of fear, nothing.
"Open the gate! Hurry!" Julie pleaded. "Milo, run!"
"Dude! Get down!" Sam shouted. "Move, you idiot!"
The faithful Hunter raised his head, smiled at us and winked. "Don't worry, guys. It's going to be okay. You had better get that portal opened, 'cause it's going to get real exciting up in here." He raised one arm as if to wave good-bye.
Susan charged forward, her black shape disappearing in a blur as she surged toward Milo. He said something quickly as the vampire reached for him. There was an explosion of bright light, blinding all of us, searing right through our eyes and into our brains. I saw Milo's skeleton through the flash. Good versus evil. Light versus dark. The cavern shook and dust and rock fell from the roof. Cracks appeared in the columns. The earth shook and I was thrown backward into Julie. Susan screamed, a great and terrible wail of pure hatred and evil. Lightning crackled across the chamber, tearing up chunks of rock.
I swear that I heard Milo's voice say; "Ooh . . . Pretty colors."
The wights, released from their psychic bonds, charged. The ones that ran too close to the clashing powers exploded in showers of sparks and flying meat. The others were going to be on us in seconds. Julie, Sam and Holly started to shoot. Our backs were against the wall. We had nowhere to go. I kept scrambling, looking for the exit. A wight leapt over a rock formation and landed directly in front of us. Sam shot it between the eyes and then kicked it backwards, impaling the creature on a sharp rock. He holstered his now empty pistol, unable to load fast enough with one hand, and drew his massive knife. With a roar he tore into the undead, slashing and hacking, cursing and swearing. He was an amazing fighter, somehow dodging the claws and fangs, while stabbing and cutting furiously at the horde. There seemed to be hundreds of undead, black teeth extended, claws raised. They kept coming.