Chapter 3
The ride back was silent, save for the obnoxious roar of the exhaust. The black '68 Dodge Charger rumbled its way up the parking ramp, and stopped three floors later. Sonic and Rossi walked to the building adjacent the parking garage before Blade pulled out his father's dead body.
As Max's corpse was half way onto Blade's shoulder, Blade heard a noise, and then looked up from the truck. Then there was that eerie laughter again that he had heard in the hall. Someone still wanted to dance.
Blade looked to his right and left—there were vampires on either side. They never gave up, and again Blade remembered how tired he felt from the fighting. Not physically tired, just mentally exhausted.
To his right, he saw the man who was laughing. He was a young vampire, maybe twenty when turned, and one who obviously didn't know who he was messin' with. Blade slowly dropped the body back into the trunk, and in a motion that seemed to one, the Mac-10 was drawn from his left hip, and a shot was fired and entered the laughing vampire's right eye.
Before his ashes could touch down, he took out three more, and took out the four to his left.
Blade heard fighting down below, and ran ledge of the garage. Rossi and Sonic had their hands full. Blade reached into his coat pocket.
"Man, you mutha fuckers don't give up!" Sonic yelled as he kicked the Asian man in the stomach, and brought down the katana across his neck.
Rossi was hit in the back with a club, and he dropped his katana after landing on his knees. A second later, and after a brilliant flash of light, Sonic and Rossi were the only bodies left.
"Shit that was close," Rossi said looking up to his right, and then nodding to Blade.
"And I'm fuckin' blind!" Sonic said mockingly.
The two began to laugh, but was interrupted by Blade's demand.
"Get inside!"
Blade waited till the two had settled into the first basement floor loft, and then with the corpse on his back, leapt from the garage. He entered the building, and traveled down the stairs to the last floor. There, he made a make-shift body-bag, and placed Max under the stairs until he could later be properly buried.
The one UV light was humming—it was nearly dead, and the last one that worked. Blade could still see the dust unsettling as he moved to parts that haven't been touched or moved in years. It was sad, Blade thought, how the world was today. A barren and depressing cattle farm—nothing more, nothing less.
And he felt like he was responsible for it. He felt like he let humanity down. When the real challenge came, he bailed. He ran and hid.
If anger was an aura, and rage an element, Blade would absolutely look like he was on fire, and about to explode.
Friend after friend had died, 'because Blade couldn't save everybody. He tried, but ultimately it seemed he was destined to fail. He has always survived, but the people he has come in contact with have perished for sometimes no reason.
He smelled a human. Then he heard the footsteps descending the dank stairway.
"It's not your fault, Blade. It's no ones fault. My father died doing what we should have done—I know he wanted it that way. We all do," said Rossi with so much sorrow in his voice it was almost tangible.
"It is my fault. Fifteen years ago, I gave up. Whistler was killed, and all the others who tried to change the world. Now they fuckin' rule the world. I'd say I'd have something to do with that," Blade replied becoming highly agitated.
The two stood in the dark silence for another moment, and then Blade walked intensely up the stairs past Rossi.
"C'mon. We've got to find a new place. They know where we are—we stay here, we're dead," Blade said while skipping two steps at a time. Rossi was right behind him.
Blade slammed the door open to the shady loft, and quickly began to throw things in a box; weapons and electronic equipment. Sonic and Monica looked to Rossi.
"Start packin'. We're moving shop," instructed the worn Italian hunter.
"You guys, uh, clean up here. I'll hit my spot and grab everything I can, and I gotta find Jen and the others. I'll meet you guys back here in about five hours, 'round noon," Sonic explained before grabbing his sword and exiting the loft.
*****
Several blocks away…
Sonic stopped running just short of his building to snatch an apple from a little vegetable stand. In between breathes, he ate the red fruit like he hadn't ate in ages. He spotted a couple of the other students in the martial arts class he and Rossi had attended for the past eleven years—even though Master Samuel had to move the location every year or so to keep things quite from the nocturnal ones.
Humans were allowed to gather during the day, but the night belonged to them. The mortals were dealt with mercilessly if caught with weapons or training in combat or anything threatening to the vampires.
Local police still worked by day, to keep somewhat order while the vampires were not around—hence during the day. The police, the military, the government; all owned by the vampires.
Nations collapsed daily, and a survival of the fittest theme reigned supreme the world over. The United States of America were no longer so united. Super-powers no longer had any meaning.
Sonic was too young to remember how things were before the Vampire Nation declared dominance over humanity, but things always felt different—sinister. Like he, his family (what was left of them) and friends were mere livestock—being bred for the sustenance of the immortals.
While walking up to his building, he tossed the apple's core at the ground of a few of his friends.
"Sonic. You look like shit, man," said one of them.
"I feel like shit," he replied as he hopped up the stairs.
Before he got to the door, a man yelled his name. It was Master Samuel.
"Hey, Master Sammy, how are ya?"
"Good, good. Obviously better than you," the older man replied. From his looks and age, it would seem that the man was too old, too elderly to teach martial arts. But looks can certainly be deceiving, and in his case…they were.
"Are you going to make it to training today?" Master Samuel asked. He knew what most of his boys did with the knowledge and training he provided them, but he never let on too much. That was his hope—that one day the men and women of the human race would fight the more powerful vampires, and take back what is a god-given freedom.
"Master Sammy, I don't think so. I think I'm leaving tonight. I'm in trouble—nothing I can't handle I assure you, but trouble that's deep. I think for once I'm in over my head," replied the tired and fatigued Sonic, taking the katana off of his back.
"Then why are you carrying your sword?"
"Protection."
"You carry a gun."
"Master, maybe someday I'll tell ya about it, k?"
"Okay, some day, you can tell me all about it," Master Samuel said with a smile.
As he walked in the building past the dual glass doors, he mumbled, "If I live long enough."
As the door slowly closed, Sonic heard a car come to a screeching halt and several doors opening and people screaming. He was already up a flight of stairs but came down quicker jumping the last four. He pulled the door open almost jerking it off the hinges.
Outside, two men had grabbed two little girls who were reading at the bottom of the steps, and two more men grabbed two boys each. The kids were maybe nine years old at the most. He knew what the men, or familiars rather intended on doing to these helpless children.
No one but Master Sammy and one of the child's mother was even trying to help…the people just stood around like drones as the kids were being stolen as the mother screamed and beat on the men's' faces and Master Sammy rushed to the rescue.
Master Sammy drove a forearm into the last of the men, and perhaps the biggest right in the lower jaw, snapping it with a pop. For an almost elderly man, he moved lightning quick and was as strong as an ox. The large man dropped the little boy, and he ran almost as fast as a blood-sucker.
The man dropped to his knees and clenched his hands around the jaw as if trying to squeeze the pain away, but it wasn't to last too much longer, as Master Sammy's left shin came crashing to the back of his head, knocking him out cold.
Another man came to his rescue after throwing one of the little girls into the back of the dirty dark blue van in the side door. He rushed at Master Sammy and threw a right hook, but Master Sammy just parried with one of his own, and again, there was another sleeping familiar scumbag.
The two remaining men flanked Master Sammy on either side, and the man emerging from the rear was the first to receive a broken nose, and the other was attacked from behind by Sonic with a kick to the left knee. The blond haired man remained on two feet but hobbled to turn around to face Sonic.
Clutching his left knee with his left hand, he withdrew a knife with the other. Sonic smiled and laughed aloud. He reached around his back and unsheathed his katana, and asked the man if he really wanted to do this, but the man just hopped back around to the driver side of the van, but not before Sonic and the hopper heard the gunshot.
It echoed down the narrow street of short buildings, sounding like a few shots, but in fact only one had entered Master Sammy's chest, and made its way out the backside of his ribcage.
The man just looked down at Sammy and smiled with the blood dripping down into his mouth. He never saw Sonic aim the Uzi at his chest and fire three shots into his heart. The blond haired man was reaching to turn the engine over but as he got it started, Sonic unloaded a couple more rounds into the back of his seat and shattering the driver window. His head fell onto the steering wheel and the horn was jammed open.
The kids jumped out of the side of the van as he reached for them and they took off in separate directions. Sonic tried not to look over to Master Sammy, but knew he was still alive, and he just couldn't take it that he would be dead…
Sonic walked over to the gray-haired master and bent down beside him and grabbed his left arm, and raised his head over his thigh. The blood poured out onto the asphalt, as his upper body was raised.
Sonic noticed his glassy eyes were becoming weak, but he managed to turn his eyes to talk to his young student of the arts.
"Sonic, never give up…never stop fighting these fiends, it is unnatural what has…" he faded as the blood started to form in his mouth, and with a cough spit onto his chin.
"I won't master, none of us will, and someday all of us will fight. And we will succeed."
The master managed a smile before his soul left his flesh and blood. Sonic reached over to close his eyes, and said a prayer, and remained silent until an ambulance had arrived.
As the old man was being carried away on a stretcher, half closed in a black body-bag, the rage finally welt up in Sonic, and he decided he would not let his other friends/hunters get involved—yet. Eventually, thousands will die against the vampires for freedom, he thought, but for now, he would handle this with Rossi and Blade. If others finally built up the courage to take on the immortal monsters, good, but he wouldn't allow any more friends die.
Grabbing his Uzi off of the pavement, he slung it back under his shoulder, and under his jacket. He quickly ran up the stairs to his apartment, and began throwing clothes and weapons into a duffle bag.
Next he grabbed several medicines from atop a chest of drawers; DDAVP for his Diabetes Insipidus—a disease brought on by lack of hormones in the pituitary gland in the base of the brain. Without it, he would be thirsty even after consuming large amounts of water which he would have to waste just as fast as he consumed.
He laughed at the ironic similarities of he and the vampires; both had an unquenchable thirst due to a disease, though one would surely survive, the other not a chance. So maybe they weren't so similar after all he thought with a smirk. He had to travel far and wide to many different hospitals up and down the East Coast in order to obtain large amounts of the medicine to last him months, where he could travel at will if necessary.
The other medicine he grabbed was that of an albuterol inhaler. He did not have Asthma, but a slight condition brought on by the DDAVP nasal spray set in motion things even doctors did not understand, which meant he needed help with his breathing sometimes.
While thinking about his illnesses, he grabbed the white inhaler, and took a couple of quick gasps, while spraying the mist down his lungs which by now have healed after a little more than a year of quitting tobacco, though now he wanted a smoke more than ever.
With the duffle bag full and heavy, he hurriedly darted out of his apartment, and exited the building and made his way back to Rossi's living quarters, not losing a step until he opened the door, and was in the Daywalker's presence. He looked at Rossi, and almost fainted from lack of fluids.
Rossi looked at Sonic, and almost laughed, but he quickly realized it was serious. The color was completely gone from his skin and eyes. He was very athletic, but Rossi knew about his medical conditions and ran to the sink to grab a glass of water as Monica sat him down on the couch, removing his duffle bag.
"What's wrong, Sonic? Have you taken your medicine?" asked a worrying Rossi.
After gulping the drink, Sonic shook his head disagreeing.
"It's not that. Master Sammy's dead and just now, as I ran from my place, did I realize what we're doing. This is just a lot, now that I had a moment alone to think about it…but I'm here; I'm not backing down from those bastards," Sonic finished while taking another shot from his inhaler.
Monica patted the sweat from his forehead with a towel. She looked to Rossi who began to speak:
"They got Master Samuel? Why?"
"He was protecting a couple of little kids from some familiars."
Everyone bowed their heads for a moment of silence—the second time in only a few hours. Monica was becoming uneasy. She was scared. She was with these men—boys! Two boys who didn't know anything, but were trying to save the world. And this man, who moves like a vampire but can walk in the day.
"Where are we going to go?" asked Monica with a frog in her throat. She was very scared, and Blade noticed she was shaking. She looked at him as he again moved frantically to gather up everything they could to take with them. She was trying to be strong, but it didn't fool Blade.
"There's a couple spots I'm gonna check out. And I still have a friend or two lying around somewhere," Blade said without looking back at her.
Rossi took another box to white box van, and came back for more just as Monica asked Blade what they were going to do for the twentieth time in the past ten minutes. Rossi decided to stop her, and asked a question of his own.
"So, Blade. Where'd you get that antique?"
"Antique?"
"The car, what's it a '69, '70?"
"'68, and it's not an antique. I had it underground."
"Where? The Batcave?" Rossi asked with a laugh, and he could tell Blade almost let it out too. This made him laugh even harder, but the joke was obviously over Monica's head. It was great to lighten the mood for about thirty seconds. Monica looked as if she was going to ask the question for the twenty-first time, but Blade didn't want to hear it again.
"There's an abandoned church, 'bout three hours from here, on the lower Eastside of the city. An old friend is shackin' up there. We'll be safe."
And with that, somehow Monica felt a little more at ease—maybe it was his voice, or the attention he finally gave her since they came back.
With the last of the tools, weapons and equipment packed into the van, the passengers hopped in, and Blade jumped behind the wheel. It was four o'clock; about four more hours of daylight left. It would take about three hours to get to their destination, and that was cutting it close, Blade thought as he turned the key firing the engine on.
Blade jumped on the highway, and headed south for the long, quiet journey down the deserted freeway. It was about an hour into the drive before they even encountered another vehicle. Blade passed the beat-up late '90s Ford Mustang at around ninety miles an hour, and the car headed for the first exit as if in fear of the people in the truck.
Two his right, Monica slept in the passenger seat, and in the back the two warriors too were fast asleep, with Sonic's snoring drowning out the exhaust of the truck.
The three remained asleep until they arrived at their destination.