BLADE

in

THE BLOOD GAUNTLET

Part II

By C. William Russette

"How long was I out?" Blade asked.

"Geez, I dunno. An hour?" the wraith said.

"Damn it!" Blade scanned his surroundings. The wind shifted the alley debris on and around the hunter. Traffic on the nearby street had picked up. The sky had drawn it's curtain across the stars.

It's gonna snow soon, Blade thought. Sounds good. Makes it easier for me to track. Unless I'm already being tracked by the prey. The vampires have had an hour. Even now word was tearing through the channels of the vampire community. A predator, higher on the food chain than the undead, had arrived in Philly.

"What are you gonna do, man?"

"What's your name?" Blade searched the rooftops on either side of the alley.

"Al."

"Al, shut your hole." Blade sampled the air a final time and leapt two stories to the nearest rooftop.

Blade had no sooner touched down when projectiles ripped through the air towards him. There wasn't time to draw his sword or anything else. Blade focused his agility and the speed of the beast that was his birthright. He examined the pattern of the throwing stars, so perfectly aimed and cutting through the chilled Philadelphia air.

Six shuriken. A pause. Six more. Blade risked a half second to backtrack the inbound weapons so as to lock in on their source. The being's aura told him the enemy was a vampire, no human could throw that fast, that accurately. Blade was surprised at the attacker's appearance. The vampire, by human standards, looked perhaps ten years of age. Appearances meant nothing. The creature could be centuries old. Snapping back into play, Blade began his dance amongst the spinning steel. The first dozen blades were launched on the assumption that Blade would remain still.

Doesn't anyone know me here? I shoulda hit Philly years ago, Blade thought and jumped into a high forward roll. A dozen stars disappeared in the freezing night. There was no time to worry about bystanders behind him. There shouldn't be anyone on their rooftops in this weather, but it takes all kinds. Blade began his descent. The vampire tilted his head and squinted. That's right, sucker, I'm more than human. Steel flew free from the stationary assailant. It took the vampire a half second to realize the first and second volley had failed.

Blade drew his longsword.

A third spread of shuriken met the descending hunter's dipping and slicing sword. Sparks fired up around Blade as he spun, deflecting the projectiles. The longsword cut swift and furious but the child-vampire avoided each strike.

KLAK.

A medieval mace appeared in the vampire's hand blocking what would have been a decapitating strike. Blade stepped back, let the vampire advance, then dashed forward catching his enemy off guard. The vampire ducked Blade's sword and drove a shuriken into the Daywalker's knee. Blade landed a punch to the throat. The vampire stumbled backward, recovered and leaped into the air.

"Stupid," Blade said, drew and fired his over and under shotgun. The incendiary rounds blew the runt-vampire's head to moist, red gore. Little more than smoldering ash hit the rooftop.

Blade grunted as he removed the shuriken from his knee. It would heal soon enough. Who the hell was kid-evil though? A friend of the sucker down in the alley?

"Not very sporting, Blade," a voice said.

A female vampire stood on the far edge of the roof. She wore jeans and winter leather boots. Her brown, suede jacket bore the stains from years of bloodletting.

"It's been a bad night for the young one. He lost his mentor."

"Ain't all he lost." Blade faced the woman.

"I am Nemeth. He was going to be my protege after we finished with you. You see, I lost someone tonight too." Nemeth wore a quiver on her hip and carried a black, lacquered, Japanese long bow almost as tall as it's wielder.

"Shuriken and arrows. What is this? Drop to your knees and I'll end this quick." Blade eased into an attack posture, sword at the ready.

"You killed my Johnny, and now Ritter. With a gun no less and you expect me to bow to you? What balls."

Blade forced a smile and discharged his shotgun but Nemeth was gone, moving, fast. Pain registered in Blade's shoulder, hip and left hand simultaneously. The shotgun fell free. He scanned for his attacker but immediately knew he should have moved instead. Two more arrows lodged in his back and abdomen. Blade's sword went into a spinning defense that cut down two arrows but a third struck his neck. Nemeth raced along the outer edge of the roof discharging arrows with the ease of one standing still. It was an act that would have drawn applauding throngs.

Pain shouted as another arrow struck Blade's leg even as he cut two more from the air. Honing his hearing to its utmost, the hunter spun, tracking the speeding archer. Blade caught the final arrow inches from his heart.

"I'm impressed, Blade. Only seven hit." Nemeth stepped off the ledge laying her bow to rest.

Blade eased the arrow out of his neck. Had it struck any closer to his carotid artery the fight would have already ended. He eased the arrow from his left wrist. This one will suffer, he vowed.

"You seem awfully upset, murderer. You shot Ritter from the sky in a melee trial. Be thankful I only brought the one quiver."

Who in the hell were these creatures? In the many years of his hunting the children of the night Blade had fought every imaginable species of vampire. On a very rare occasion one might have spent their near endless nights mastering martial pursuits. Most thrived on the carnal exploits so common to the breed. In his first night in Philadelphia Blade had encountered a shuriken throwing, mace-wielder and as fine an archer as any he had ever encountered, dead or alive. The Avenger Hawkeye alone might give her a hard time with a bow. Was the vampire he destroyed first in the alley some kind of specialist too? He hadn't had time to draw anything more than a knife.

"Hurry, murderer, heal up. I've got vengeance on my mind," Nemeth said, pacing.

The last arrowhead ground against his shin-bone as Blade tore it free. Nemeth drew the short sword from over her shoulder. Blade had seen a picture of it when still under his first master's tutelage. Jamal Afari, a jazz trumpeter and vampire hunter, brought Blade in off the street. Afari forced Blade to master many edged weapons. The one Nemeth wielded was a brilliant replica of a 15th century Italian cinquedea. Named after the five finger width of the blade at the haft, it came to an almost round tip. It would likely bring a fair price if Blade survived the night.

"I would have simply cut you down for your misdeeds against my people but the Baron insists we maintain our honor in the face of any diversity." She set her jaw and approached Blade.

"Vampire honor? Gimmie a break." Blade almost laughed. He was using every ounce of his will to seal his injures if even superficially. The hunter hoped that Nemeth's strong weapon was the bow.

She thrust the cinquedea forward but Blade saw the attack for the feint that it was. Her weapon was one for hacking, not driving through and opponent. If she were human that is, Blade corrected himself. A vampire could likely drive such a weapon through an armored opponent. The hunter knocked the haft-heavy blade down and cut for her throat but she bent over backwards and smashed a thick-soled boot into Blade's face.

Blade spun with the impact and brought his own sword up in time to save his left arm from being severed. His modified longsword wasn't the equal in thickness of Nemeth's sword. Blocking would have to be replaced with parrying, he decided and began his attack sequence. I should have brought the katanas.

Nemeth was clearly professionally trained. She easily fell into a rhythm with Blade, matching every step and burst of aggression. Her arrogance became apparent when Blade's injured leg quivered and almost failed him. Nemeth moved in, calling on her vampire speed. Blade played up his exhaustion and injury level. She pressed him and he stumbled to one knee, panting. Nemeth wasting no time, gripped her ancient weapon with both hands and baring a fangs slashed down with all her strength.

Blade brought up the longsword to block but was overpowered. Nemeth muscled past the hunter's weapon, hacking deep into Blade's left shoulder. She stepped back and dragged her cinquedea across the side of his neck. The pain was greater than Blade had expected. His left arm was now useless.

"Now, murderer..." Nemeth began and stumbled back a step.

Blade pointed to her chest and stood. A dagger protruded from beneath her left breast, a teak dagger. Nemeth began a final charge at Blade. All that reached the vampire hunter was an ashen sword that clattered across the roof top to Blade's feet.

"That was amazing! I didn't even see you stick that bitch!" Al the wraith wailed.

Neither did she, Blade thought. He tried to move his left arm. Fingers twitched, pain flared. There weren't any grinding bones. It shouldn't take too long to heal. His sword had taken the worst of the blow. He was lucky he still had the arm. The feint was a risky move but with all the arrow holes tearing themselves open as the fighting progressed, Blade knew his options were disappearing quickly.

"What's that, three down? You are the man!" Al said.

Blade grimaced as he held his arm in place willing the binding to hasten. His body would heal on its own but coupled with meditation and a driven will Blade found that he could speed it up. Taxing as the exertion was, worse was how feral it left him. Fortunately, the only one around was already dead.

"How'd you get up here anyway?"

"Uh, I just kinda climbed the wall. I guess I don't weigh all that much. Just took some serious thinking and I sailed on up here. You gonna be okay, Blade? You look like hell."

Yeah, probably, Blade thought. I'd be better with a few pints of blood and a whiskey chaser but that ain't gonna happen. Blade sampled the air. The ghost registered but barely. He could locate the remains of all three recent kills. No big effort there. They shared a common scent beneath or attached to their own. She came from the north, Blade reasoned as he inhaled the slight, chilled wind. Nemeth wasn't the last of them.

Blade forced his left arm into action, making a fist. His shoulder felt submerged in acid but everything was connected again. Good thing it wasn't my sword arm. Blade examined his sword. Near the haft, where the blade connected with it, his sword was chipped a third of the way through. In a couple of strikes the blade would break off.

The cinquedea lay on the ground. It seemed an ungainly weapon but he knew his own wasn't going to be good for much. Blade sheathed his longsword. Another for the wall, he thought heading to the edge of the roof. With a grunt he knelt and rotated his head.

"Blade?"

Only the wind replied to the wraith.

"Blade? What are you doin?"

"Tryin' not to bleed." Blade pinched the bridge of his nose.

"I hate to break it to you but there's more of them out there."

"I know."

"My girl is with them, m--What did you say?"

"There's maybe two more up the block, on the roof of the pawn shop. Been there watchin' the whole time." Blade rotated his left shoulder and moaned.

"So what are you waiting for? Get it in gear, man!"

If there was a way to shut your hole, punk I'd be all over that. Never had a whole lot of experience with ghosts though. Not even too sure why I can see and or hear this one. Gotta have somethin' to do with the blow to the head I took. Blade got to his feet, slowly.

Problem is I don't know how to ditch a ghost I can't cut down.

"Just go slow so I can keep up. Movin' ain't so easy like this."

Blade took the cinquedea in a reverse grip and ran. The wraith screamed about something but Blade hadn't the time or energy to bother listening. Getting his heart racing sped up the blood flow and healing factor. It Hurt like being dragged through broken glass but the results were hard to argue with.

The roof opposite was almost the same height and easily reached. Follow that, dead Al. Blade didn't bother to turn and watch the moaning ghost. He hoped it would be awhile until Al learned the abilities of his new state of being.

The undead heat signatures of the two vampires were missing. Blade knew that he hadn't imagined them. The hunter had never encountered a vampire whose trail he couldn't track.

The four-way intersection ahead would be a problem. Blade knew that he couldn't leap the distance at peak performance, never mind while knitting himself together. It was time to jump into the spotlight.

Blade leapt off the two story building into the bed of a Ford full-sized pick up. The driver, blue collar, thirty-something male, spun around in his seat but the traffic was moving. There wasn't anything for him to do until he could make a turn. Blade ignored the other drivers staring at the amazing leaping man. The truck had weaved into the right hand lane when a glint caught Blade's eye.

The vampire-hunter's instincts took over and Blade jumped up, flipped forward and landed on the roof of Hummer motoring past in the center lane. Blade turned to see a throwing knife clatter around the bed of the truck. Obscured by shadow on the roofline to Blade's left, a form reached back over his head for an impossible fifty foot throw. Blade brought up the cinquedea and swatted the second knife into a wooden telephone pole. Blade was moving away from the mark. The thrower knew better than to waste another knife at the increasing distance. He looked around for the next chance to hop vehicles and change lanes. He turned to inspect oncoming traffic when the streetlights were almost eclipsed by a massive male form wielding a war hammer.

Thor?

Blade dashed backward to the edge of Hummer's cab as the long handled war hammer tore through the steel shell of the recreational wartime vehicle like it was made of tin. The giant of a man, similar to Thor in only build and weapon of choice, tore the bludgeoning weapon free with ease. The vampire stood to it's full seven foot plus height, every inch of the monster thick with tightly corded muscle. He had to be four hundred pounds of leather, chain and hair, Blade guessed. The giant wouldn't allow any further analysis. He brought the hammer down again.

The giant looked shocked as Blade charged under the crashing blow and hacked the cinquedea into the giant's rib cage. The resulting snapping was pleasing. Blade dashed away from the expected backhand, turned and again ran straight for the large vampire. The monster reached for Blade but too slowly. The hunter leapt up onto the giant's shoulder springing up and away.

The jump was an easy, forty feet, but Blade's body wasn't what it should have been. He used the wrong leg to spring off with, suffering through the jump onto the semi following the Hummer. Blade felt his right leg strain, quiver but finally hold the landing.

Blade tracked a glimmer of metal again. He brought his sword up, deflecting it with no time to spare. Blade realized, too late, the throwing knife was a feint. A spiked ball on the end of a chain crashed into the Daywalker's face knocking him off the side of the trailer.

Blade gripped the edge of the trailer's roof. His left arm felt like it was going to come off. The chain-wielder shrieked what might be considered laughter. Blade swung his right arm up and stabbed a hold with the cinquedea. The ease in pressure on his left arm felt just short of orgasmic. Oncoming traffic tore past. Blade listened as the sound of the jangling chain stopped. Blade's left hand fell from the trailer. Two spiked, steel balls on the end of chains embedded themselves where his hand had been. The owner pulled the lengthy weapon taught. Blade gripped the chain, held fast then pulled himself up and onto the trailer top.

Blade maintained his grip on the ball and chain whip while tearing free his cinquedea. The owner of the whip was a vamp. She was taller than Blade though not so tall as the Viking from the Hummer. Her brow was distended, sprouting monstrous eyebrows over deep set, small eyes that were black as the night sky. She was heavily muscled with teeth that surpassed the category of fangs, more akin to tusks.

She snapped the chain-whip from Blade's hand, he didn't resist. The spiked balls flew free again. Blade ducked the first and parried the second. It wasn't a whip the vampire bore but a hideous form of the Japanese manriki-gusari: a length of chain with a weight on each end. Normally the ends weren't edged or spiked. Clearly bludgeoning her enemy wasn't enough for the vamp.

The muscle bound female began her strike sequence, the chain spinning and arcing around herself and lancing out at Blade. The hunter's blade lashed out, he ducked and sidestepped the vamp and her weapon. His left shoulder began to howl again. She hadn't landed a strike since ripping his face open but Blade knew that he wouldn't be able to keep this pace up indefinitely. The manriki-gusari was a long range weapon, unlike his sword. Even a thrown weapon would likely be cast aside. There was only one option. It was the most dangerous. Blade closed the distance.

Marking the pattern, erratic as it was, she was a master of the weapon, Blade struck with his sword. The chain wrapped around the cinquedea and jerked tight but Blade held firm. The remainder of the chain finished it's arc and Blade allowed it wrap around his left arm, the spiked ball crashing into his forearm, numbing it. The vampire grinned a hideous smirk and fired a snap kick to Blade's trunk. He tightened his abs to absorb the worst of it and drove his chain-wrapped forearm into her face dashing blood and sending fangs bouncing off the trailer into oncoming traffic.

The vampire screamed and Blade broke his sword arm free from her grip. He brought his sword back for the killing strike and pain erupted from his right elbow. Blade watched the cinquedea fly from his useless hand. Before he could turn, a second blow struck his upper back sending him tumbling to the end of the trailer. He was certain vertebrate between his shoulder blades were shattered. Drawing a breath was impossible.

Blade looked to the front of the trailer. The giant Viking stood beside his partner with the ruined maw. The undead shared a bloodied grin, turned to Blade and started towards him.

Blade's limbs tingled but refused to obey.

to be continued...