Chapter 3
Against the stairway wall stood Shawn, still in shock. Silence once again filled the empty inn. There were way too many thoughts coursing through his head to make anything of this situation. Slowly, he caught his breath and decided he'd get his things and get the hell out, find somebody in town who could help.
The body was perfectly still, unusually stiff. It was almost as if it entered its dead state again. Whether or not the little shit could back to life he didn't care to find out. He entered his room, the door slightly open. That was when he heard it, screams coming from outside. He glanced out the window. Darkness flooded much of his view, but the sounds of actual people yelling, the strangled, muffled voices of them dying...
"What the hell is going on in this town?" he asked himself. He was packing his stuff and putting on his boots and jacket when some hissing noise came from outside. The next thing he knew, the windows downstairs shattered, the audible noise pulsing in his ears.
"Damn, I have to get out quick..."
He obviously couldn't tote around two enormous briefcases and a handgun and expect to defend himself. He sought for his spare handgun clips hidden in some of his compartments in the cases. With that in hand, he jolted for downstairs.
SHHHHHHHHBOOOOOOM!
The whole house shook at the explosion as Shawn held on to the walls of the stairway.
"They frickin tossed an explosive in here!" he thought, wondering who was behind all this.
UHHHHHHHGH...
He heard a raspy sigh at the bottom of the stairway. He directed the Beretta where the sound came from, and then noticed that the body from the kitchen stood right before his eyes. The man, still pale and still dead, approached dumbly in his direction, the same twisted expression glued to his face. The neck still had the two holes...
Shawn aimed for the head, shot, and saw the creature fall.
"Guess it's dead..."
As he proceeded down the corridor, he was surprised to see the thing get right back up, only a couple feet away from him. Shawn staggered back and kicked the creature right back down, and was rewarded with a stifled moan from it.
"Have to stay away..."
BOOOOOM!
Another explosion sounded from upstairs. That probably meant all his stuff was trashed. No longer caring, he raced toward the front where he'd came.
"Get the American!" said a coarse voice from just outside. It was in Romanian, but he understood the words well enough. Suddenly, there were tons of them; the same walking stiffs from the dead, only their faces were all covered in blood. Shawn expected the worst for the civilians here.
The cultists were holding torches, axes, and what appeared to be makeshift flares or explosives of some sort. He heard from around the back, too. Simply put, he was screwed. They had ambushed him and were prepared to take desperate measures to kill him.
Like a miracle just waiting there, Shawn saw what could actually be his savior. Just as he thought, the thing hanging on the wall was a 12 gauge shotgun. He hoped the thing was used for protection rather than decoration; he needed it to be loaded. Shawn grabbed the thing, realizing it was a hunting shotgun, some model he'd never seen before. The cultists were already climbing into the house through broken windows, coming closer, wide-eyed and deranged-looking. The one he knocked over at the stairway was just several feet away as well.
Immediately, Shawn blasted the first group of them away, muted shouts of pain coming from that direction. Knowing the gun was loaded, Shawn smiled and aimed at the next group. He must have shot an explosive, for the pieces of their flesh rained down around him. Dozens more came from the shadows, and it sounded like a couple more dozens were breaking in from the back.
"Shit, I can't hold on much longer."
Two more shotgun blasts, and he was out. He tossed the gun and took out his handgun. It was going to be a rough ride.
Suddenly, some loud noise sounded from just outside, distracting even the zombie-things. In a mere flash, seven to ten of the creatures were blown to bits. The noise sounded like a motorcycle. Just then, the mutants started for the sound, only to be mowed down by some fully automatic weapon! Could help be on its way?
He was right. Someone on a motorcycle drove right into the house, running down the zombie from the stairway with a gross "squish". The vehicle swerved around and was ready to depart.
"Thanks, man. I would've been minced meat if it weren't for you..."
At that point, Shawn didn't care if the rider had understood what he said. He'd be out of town in no time. He jumped on board the bike, held on with one hand, and carried the Uzi the driver had left there for him.
The zombies from the rear ran into the room, but the biker was way ahead of the game. Driving away, the motorcycle deviated
toward the right and continued down the rural roadway of the town. Dressed in black and donning a rather large helmet, Shawn's savior was truly mysterious, but must've really trusted him to just hand him a machine gun like that. Hopefully it was an agent he knew.
As the cycle rode around, Shawn saw the remains of the town and its people. All over, houses were being burnt down and people were being sacrificed, blood spilled everywhere. All these images swirled violently into his head. How could this happen? Who was behind it all? What was he to do? Did this have any correlation to his duties?
"My God..."
These cultists were beyond deranged; they were monsters. They withstood gunfire and drank blood and ate flesh. And what was more cryptic was that they specifically wanted him dead. What did they know about him and the mission?
Several more groups of creatures blocked the mystery driver's path. Coming to a full stop, Shawn aimed the gun in their direction and fired, a loud, rapid noise giving him somewhat of a high. It felt great to mow down these sons of bitches after what they've done. Once they fell and didn't get back up, the biker proceeded down the road. His driving skills were astounding. He drove up hills, jumped up, and landed perfectly, no sweat.
They approached a bridge, most likely a way out of town, when another mob of those strange people stood in their way. Their eyes lit up unnaturally in the front light of the bike. They ran eagerly toward them, readying axes and even shotguns! Shawn's Uzi's weren't even enough to take them all out...
The driver tossed something, a gray metallic object...a grenade. Following his lead, Shawn fired at the object and-
BOOM-
The majority of the creatures were massacred, and as for the rest, they fell along with the destroyed bridge. While the immediate threat was gone for the time being, their way out was gone, gone with his hopes...
"Come on," said the driver, his voice low and hard to hear.
They came by an area filled with trees, just around the bend of the forest. Again, the way he drove was unbelievable, not even skinning any of the trees as he sped down. Before Shawn knew it, they were alone in the solitude of a forest and a nearby cave.
When they came to a stop, Shawn waltzed off, staring the driver down. He was pretty thin for a man. Shawn didn't keep his eyes off of him, still untrusting of him. The driver took off his helmet and down came long, wavy, blond hair. The driver unzipped the jacket a bit to reveal cleavage. The driver was a woman...
She turned around and smiled. Her beautiful face did not even suggest a hint of what she had done back in town. She walked toward him.
"What, didn't expect a chick to be riding like this?" she said.
"Didn't even expect you to speak English," he replied. "Just who are you anyway?" The girl slowly faced the other way.
"You're not from my squad...and you're definitely not a native here..." Shawn continued.
"That's right. And I saved your skin. So, could you please save me the questioning?" Shawn became a bit less tense around her all the sudden.
"Well, could I at least ask your name?"
"It's Eva," she said simply.
"My name's-"
Before he could even reply, she interrupted and said, "Shawn Brown, right? You're real famous around these parts. These mongoloids are always mentioning you. Guess you'll be the talk of the town now..."
"What happened down there wasn't a joke!" he scolded.
"It was going to happen whether you liked it or not! Those people knew what was coming. They just decided to feign ignorance. Signs of vampire creatures lurking in the woods, disappearing members of town..."
"...and dead people and animals found everywhere, huh?" Shawn finished. Eva looked up at him with interest.
"You know what's going on, don't you?" she asked him.
"...No, not a clue, but something similar happened to me before I came here. I knew there was a link."
"Remember the legends of vampires...like the one of Count Dracula?" she asked.
"Yeah, so? Don't tell me it's all real..."
"Not exactly. What if I told you there was some truth to it all?" At that moment, Shawn grinned nervously.
"...I'd think you were trying to insinuate that you were..."
"Be serious, Shawn! What I mean is that vampires are skulking around, and that it is a result of an ancient parasite spread through blood contact."
"Well, why did you save..."
"Ah! No questioning, did you forget? I'm just here to make right what a couple of jerk-offs did around here." She got back on her bike, and grabbed for her helmet.
"Listen to me carefully. Head into this cave and follow the path. Trust me, it's much safer than being out here where they can detect you. I'll even let you keep my Uzi's. When you get out, I'll be waiting for you there."
"And you...?"
"I'll be fine. I just can't be seen by them for awhile. Just trust me. I gotta get going." With those final words, she put on her helmet, started up her bike, and it roared off with her.