Chapter Three
I
Jack and Carey walked up the red carpeted white marble corridors searching for their room. The hotel they were staying in was extravagant to say the least and Carey had only dreamed of staying in a place like it. Jack went up to the door for room eleven and was about to push it open when he smelled something. Carey instantly saw Jack tense up and asked what was up?
"Don't worry about it. But just in case," said Jack handing Carey a semi-automatic handgun. Carey looked at the Glock 18 and placed it firmly in her hands standing ready in the shooting stance that had been drilled into her during training. Jack swiped his key card and pushed the door gently forward.
All the lights were off and the curtains drawn as Jack and Carey tiptoed into the room. Wind from an open window made the curtains float atop the incoming sunlight. Jack went up to the coffee table situated in the middle of the living room in front of a white leather couch. A white envelope sat on the table Jack picked it up and opened it.
"Battle of Bunker Hill Monument midnight come dressed appropriately," said Jack reading off a piece of paper inside the envelope. "What is it?" Carey asked as he peered around the door other open doors in the room. "An invitation to a party but not the sort of party you're used to," said Jack and he looked Carey up and down. She frowned confused.
II
Jack and Carey walked down the quiet streets. The street lights glowed like fireflies in the darkness of the city night. The pair passed the odd drunk sleeping on street corners. Strange looks were exchanged but the pair carried on as if it was normal to find what appeared to be a young couple dressed in 18th Century clothes. "Did we really have to go to such an extent with the clothes?" Carey asked and Jack nodded. "But of course the letter said come dressed appropriately. The last time I was at Bunker Hill I was wearing this very attire and I feel it only reasonable to return there dressed like this besides you look lovely in that dress," said Jack.
Jack was wearing a set of black boots, white stockings, brown trousers that only reached just below his knees and brown waistcoat with a long blue coat on top. A black tricorn hat sat on Jack's head with his long hair tied back in a ponytail. For once he was without his trademark aviator sunglasses but he still carried his knife and other weapons. A Kentucky Rifle hung by a leather strap over his left shoulder. Knocking against his backside every time he took a step was a large leather cartridge box that also hung from a strap that went across his left shoulder. His knife and a flintlock pistol hung from a plain leather belt on his hips that was casually tucked under his long coat.
Carey was dressed in a simple brown dress that would have been associated with a handmaid while a white bonnet covered her blonde hair that was tied up in a bun. "I don't like it. The dress is plain I was expecting something more elaborate," said Carey and Jack sighed.
"You're playing the role of a working class lady just as I'm a working class militiaman. So next time I'll get a beautiful elaborate dress with frills and a large hoop skirt," said Jack before the pair turned a corner and gazed up at a tall concrete pillar.
Coloured bunting and bright lanterns hung from wooden tall wooden poles stuck into the ground all around the monument. A group of people all dressed in 18th century clothing were dancing in the centre of the grassy park. A small wooden stand had been made in front of the statue and a band consisting of five members were playing a lively song. "Well this is something," said Carey and she turned to look at Jack. He was wearing a solemn expression with his lips perfectly straight any second now Carey expected him to fall forwards. But Jack didn't he merely turned gave a sheepish smile and said "Do you care for a dance Miss Foley?"
Carey held out her and Jack took it and the pair joined in the mass of couples dancing. The pair weaved in an out of the other dancers spinning and stepping in time with the fast country music. At the end of the song Carey stopped to catch her breath while the crowd turned and applauded the band. The band bowed before they started a simple waltz. Jack took Carey and pressed her close to him as the music started. As they danced around Jack leaned in close to her neck. Fearing the worst Carey stepped back but Jack lifted her off her feet and carried on dancing.
"Don't worry I'm not hungry I just want to talk quietly," said Jack and Carey sighed with relief as Jack placed her back on the ground. "Now what do you notice about the other dancers?" Jack asked and Carey looked around. "They look normal to me."
"Look closer at their body shapes and their faces notice anything?"
"They're all women. Even the ones dressed as men they're all female."
"Exactly so I need you to do something for me."
"That depends what is it?"
"Trust me and run," said Jack letting go of Carey and stepping back.
"What?" Carey said and Jack raised his rifle at her. He threw her the rifle turned around took out his pistol and shot a musician. The music stopped and people screamed. Carey turned and ran holding up her dress with one hand and holding the rifle at her side with the other. Jack put his pistol away and drew his knife. The crowd gathered around him in a circle while a few people ran off after Carey.
"So let me guess witches?" Jack asked pulling out a set of aviator's and putting them on. A tall, skinny, black haired woman wearing a British redcoat officer's uniform who looked like she'd just turned eighteen stepped forward in front of Jack. "I was told you were smart for a vampiric bastard," said the woman smiling her sharp pointed teeth showing. "Lady Salem I presume."
"You really are smart too smart. My sisters and I will soon remove that intelligent head."
"You can try."
The witch Lady Salem launched forward at Jack bearing her now long teeth and nails. Jack grabbed her wrist and threw her into the crowd. Two more witches ran at Jack. He spun around slashing open the chest of one witch and throwing the other away like a used tissue. The group of twenty witches then came at him one at time. Jack slashed, threw and kicked the witches. The blood collected in a pool on the floor. When all the witches lay dismembered on the floor Jack took off his aviators cleaned the blood off before putting them back on and running off after Carey. Jack however didn't see the blood collect together and the bodies stand up.
Carey ran down the near empty streets holding up her dress while the rifle was now slung across her back. She turned a corner into an alleyway and ran straight into a tall black object. Carey hit the floor with a headache the rifle clattering beside her. The shadowy figure became the solid form of a young woman in a pink flowery dress. "Well hello there my pretty," said the woman before letting out a long shrill scream. The witch jumped down on Carey like a hungry predator. Carey grasped at her right thigh and found the small pistol that was strapped there. She didn't have time to pull it out of the holster so she just pulled the trigger.
She felt the vibrations and the heat in the air as the bullet travelled across her leg and straight into the witch's lower chest. The witch fell to one side gripping the bleeding wound. Carey stood up properly drawing the small pistol. The witch stood up and found itself looking into the gun barrel of Carey's Glock Model 26 the 'Baby Glock'. "That stings. So for that. I'm going to rip off your pretty little head," said the Witch. Carey feeling a little calmer now due to the pistol in her hands tried to give a confident smile.
"You can try," said Carey and the bleeding witch smirked. Three more witches appeared from the shadows around Carey and her confident smile faded. "What are you going to do now?" One of the witches asked mocking Carey as she looked around frantically. The witches stood in a semi circle in front of the alley entrance. Carey was stood on the curb of the now deserted street. A book shop was on her left and a block of houses on her right. Carey took a step backwards as the witches slowly edged closer. Carey felt a bump as her legs hit a parked car on the edge of the road.
Carey quickly glanced down at the car that sat behind her and she could have cried out in joy. It was Jack's car. She edged along the car until she could open the door of the grey/black 1969 Pontiac GTO. She slid inside the passenger side door as the witches jumped at her again. Carey clenched her teeth as the witches jumped on and at the car lifting it up off the ground for a second.
Carey quickly rolled down the metal armour plating that hung from inside the car roof and closed it down across the window as she heard the witches break the glass window. Carey crawled across into the drivers seat. She swapped her Glock for the keys in the glove compartment. She put the keys in the ignition and as she looked up she saw the demonic face of a witch. The witch bared its teeth its eyes now gold the veins all across its body now a dark black. "Go fuck yourself bitch," shouted Carey.
The engine roared and the antique muscle car zoomed backwards. Carey felt a bump before she put the car in Neutral and went for a sling shot spinning the car around and putting it into Drive shooting forwards. Carey heard the scrapping noise as long nails tried to hold onto the speeding vehicle. She kept looking about herself for something anything to get rid of the witches. "Shit!"
Carey hit the brakes as a traffic light in front of her went red. She watched as a figure rolled off the roof, over the bonnet and hit the ground. Carey closed her mouth swallowed hard and put the car in reverse again and parked it in an alleyway. Carey leant back in the drivers seat and closed her eyes. She was safe for the moment.
Jack ran down the now dark streets. Many of the street lamps had become dim. He looked up at the moon that now glowed red. 'Blood has been spilled and there's more of that to come'. Jack thought to himself as he searched for Carey.
He turned round a corner and he found himself at the corner of an alleyway between a book store and a block of houses. He looked at the now empty parking space and the rifle that lay on the side walk. He looked down the road and saw a trail of blooding heading along it. Jack smiled before he picked up the rifle and ran down the road following the trail.
Carey looked across at the back seat of the car. A large black duffel bag lay open on the seat. Carey could only guess the names of the various weapons that lay hidden within the bag. Smash. The widow broke and a cold hand with sharp pointed nails clung around Carey's neck. "Now you die human," said a grimacing face outside the window. Carey tried to reach for the duffel bag but she couldn't reach. She remembered her Glock and reached for the glove compartment but then another cold hand appeared grabbing her right arm. "No No No. No tricks now. Just your slow demise," said the witch.
Crack. Fizz. Bang. The Witch's head exploded and Carey felt the grasp around her neck loosen. She pushed the body away and looked forward through the windscreen. There in his Militia 'uniform' covered in blood. A cloud of smoke wafting around his head. Stood Jack. Rifle up in the firing position pressed against his shoulder. His red eyes alive and his vampire teeth bared. Carey felt tears well up in her eyes. Jack walked up to the car put the rifle onto the back seat and pushed Carey aside so he could get into the drivers seat. "So did you like the party?" Jack asked smiling before he put the car into Drive and drove off back towards the monument.