Sorry I havent updated in the longest f-ing time but hey I want to continue this story

Ch. 2

SKREET SKREEET SKREET

"Ughhhhh, another day, " complained the lump of blankets on the bed.

Reaching out, a masculine but thin arm with clearly defined forearm muscles clicked off the annoying alarm. The movement caused the top blanket to shift down to uncover his face.

While he wasn't the most handsome guy he certainly wasn't ugly. He kept his dirty blonde hair cropped close down to an eighth of an inch to keep it out of the way when he fought. His face was clean shaven unlike most of his kind who seemed to prefer to look like Grizzly Adams. He had a strong chin but with high cheekbones. His sky blue eyes which before his turning had been kind now could turn into a deadly stare that could cause even the most hardened person to falter. Right now those eyes were filled with a sad knowing that today would be another fight for survival in a world he didn't ask to survive in to begin with.

As he sat up he heard his radio turn to the D.C Morning show. "Hey there all you beautiful Washington goers welcome to D.C. Morning here's Chris with your afternoon traffic and weather." The guy named Chris rattles off something about it being gently cool today but that traffic was going to be a problem because of the snowfall that came down early this morning.

Suppressing the urge to complain, he pulled his legs off the bed and realized that he was still dressed in his jeans from last night and his boots. He took off his boots and pants and hurried to the shower to escape the cold tiles on the floor. Although he had lived here in D.C for almost a year now he still couldn't get used to the cold that was so different from the warm climate that was common to his hometown of San Clemente in California.

Running the water as hot as he could get it, he pulled off his clothes and was about to jump into the shower when his mind registered something was out of place. Stepping back he looked into the cracked mirror and looked himself over. He noticed the 5 dark spots on his chest and right shoulder from where he had been shot the previous night were healing pretty well but were still leaking the silver out of the newly healed skin's pores. Frowning he pressed on each of the wounds compressing some of the silver out of each until he was satisfied he couldn't get anymore out. Wiping his hands on the towel hanging from the rack on the wall he left a silver track on it. He jumped in the shower and washed some of last nights grime off, savoring the feeling of the hot water running down his back.

Ten minutes later after he was done showering he went to his closet to pick out what he was going to wear. Great choice he thought as he looked at his poor selection of clothing. In the end he decided on wearing his dark blue jeans, loose for free movement but not as baggy as his old gang banger pals from Cali used to wear, a black belt with a longhorn belt buckle, white tee-shirt and his boots. Now that he was satisfied with his appearance he could clean his weapons and his coat from all the blood on the arms.

Walking over to his dresser he looked at his gauntlet styled switchblades. Each blade about 18 inches long when sheathed could extend to a full 20 inches beyond his arms when he depressed the pressure wire on the insides of his wrists. He had decided he would need them when he fought with his hands the first time he ran out of rounds for his pistol. Normally he carried up to 60 rounds but that night ………

6 months earlier

Dammit, they just keep coming, he thought. As he risked a peek out over the edge of the apartment buildings raised rooftop he saw the death dealers had 5 more reinforcements show up from down the alley. He looked down at the kid kneeling next to him and realized he had the oddest feeling that protecting was something he had to do, that letting the vampires get this 12 year old kid was something he could not and would not allow. Gritting his teeth he felt his resolve tighten and drew courage from the fact that the kid looked at him like a guardian. He couldn't let him down.

With this iron cold resolve in his heart he sat up and began opening fire on the oncoming vampires. He was able to hit the first one with his first set of three shots. He saw the vamp go down and the other 7 renewed their fire with a new vehemence. He emptied his clip into the area where they were most clustered and hit two more with his last two shot.

"Fuck it!" he heard come from down in the alley. As he watched he saw each of the Vamps take on their feral faces and come sprinting down the alley heedless of the rounds I was sending there way. As he hit each one with my pistol fire they would fall and burn up from the deadly UV rounds I was shooting at them. Suddenly CLICK!

The sound of the pistol going dry was louder than the gunshots it seemed. Each of the Vamps took to the fire escapes and started making leaps from wall to wall climbing up to get my precious cargo. As the first Deathdealers boots hit the iron fire escape he felt the kid grab his arm and start to cry. That's when the kid looked up at me and asked

"Mik, are we going to die?" His name brought him out of his reverie and led him to the current problem of the three vampires coming up the alley walls.

"Not if I can do anything about it," he told him with a coming sense of dread on his heart. He pulled the kid off his arm and pushed him behind him so that he could protect him. Mik didn't even know the kids name but he was going to do what he had to in order to protect him. He didn't know what he could do against three vampires but

His thoughts were interrupted by the first vampire landing on the rooftop ledge.