Best New Vampire Tales: Vol 1 Part 24

The vampires were tightening their circle. Rogan could feel Jonah's awareness of them closing behind him. The old hunter held his crossbows, one above the other, four armed bolts aimed for Gantu's heart. It was a cla.s.sic Mexican stand-off. Jonah hadn't realized Gantu was amidst a whole nest of vampires, and if he killed Gantu, there was no way he could hold off sixty more. So long as he kept Gantu in his sights and held him with his Sabbatarian powers, the sixty likely wouldn't attack.

There was no time to think it through.

Rogan let out an attention-getting bellow, and sixty vampires whirled to face him, They growled, teeth bared, red eyes glowing in the dim light. Deadly sunlight filtered in through high windows, but they were well out of harm's way. Gantu and Jonah remained gaze-locked.

"A Sabbatarian!" hissed one of the vampires.

"He's strong," another called out.

"I've never seen such power," said yet another.

Rogan's heart was firing like a semiautomatic, and he fought every instinct to turn and run. "All of you, back away from the hunter," he ordered.

"Leave, Mr. Mallory," Gantu's weakened but clear voice called out. "Leave while I still have a choice to let you live."

"I can't do that, Gantu. Order your vampires back and we'll resolve this peacefully. If you don't, I'll have no choice but to kill you all."

The words were bigger than Rogan was, and he knew it. He heard Gantu chuckling. "I admire you, but there's a fine line between courage and stupidity."

"Run, boy," Jonah's cracking voice came. "This is my fight. Even you can't help me now."

"Release him, Jonah," Rogan said. "As soon as he orders the vampires back."

"Never," Jonah said.

"The vampires stay," Gantu said. "This is your last chance, Mr. Mallory. Don't make me send my vampires after you."

"Bring them on," Rogan said, and struck a sideways martial arts stance he remembered from his younger days. He hoped it conveyed his confidence and power. He was scared, but somehow he felt in control.

Gantu growled out an order to attack, and at least half the vampires launched. Most in the front ran at high speed towards him; the ones to the flanks and rear took to the air above the others' heads and flew. They crossed the distance between them and he in less than a second, a frontal a.s.sault of inhuman missiles coming in low, packed tightly together, homing in on him.

In that instant, Rogan visualized his cyclone of power. Instead of focusing it small and tight, he envisioned it roaring wider. In his mind's eye, it became a maelstrom of raw energy, coning out before him on some invisible astral plane, and he felt his mind latch on to each of the sixty torpedoing bodies. He felt as if he were making sixty simultaneous connections on an old-fas.h.i.+oned telephone switchboard. He felt all the power and effects of his supernatural lock with Jonah earlier that day, sixty-fold. It was as if his brain operated as sixty sub-minds, all working independently yet controlled by his higher consciousness.

The vampires. .h.i.t invisible walls of force and blew backward as fast as they had been coming at him. Five dozen wails of surprise and pain echoed through the warehouse. Bodies bowled across the concrete floor, slammed into walls, banged into steel rafters above. One careened high and left toward a window, and even before he smashed through it, the rays of the sun ignited him in a fury of flames. He fireballed out into the daylight, squealing in agony.

Vampires were still hitting the floor like sacks of potatoes as others staggered to their feet. A half dozen wasted no time, tearing right back toward him at high speed, like rubber b.a.l.l.s fired against a wall. Rogan never quite completely detached from the others, but he focused most of his strength on those six.

They were blown back as if kicked by an angry G.o.d, two hundred feet or more into the far wall. Blood sprayed everywhere, and the vampires crumpled like fallen angels.

The others had regained their feet, staring at their comrades and Rogan in stunned silence. Gantu and Jonah were still locked together, but Rogan knew Gantu had seen what had happened. He moved toward the duo, and no vampires moved to intercede.

"Stop him!" Gantu called out.

They moved forward, slowly and uncertainly.

"Call them off," Rogan said. "I'll kill them if they come closer."

"You came at him tightly, from the front," Gantu hollered. "All of you, fly wide, and encircle him. Even he cannot fight you all off then."

The tactic made perfect sense, and they all apparently thought so. Vampiric lightning bolts, they hurtled themselves into the air and climbed. Some went straight up over him, others banked to the left or right. No two found the same height, and in moments all fifty-three orbited him, a sphere of destruction, spinning about him faster and faster, closing the radius as they did.

His fear mounted, and he heard Gantu laughing with satisfaction: "You'll fail, old hunter, and your all-powerful Sabbatarian will fall!"

"I'll take you with me!" Jonah roared, and fired off the first two shots from his crossbows. Rogan watched as the wooden bolts thudded like armor piercing rounds into the flesh of Gantu's chest. Unable to break the hold, the ancient vampire could only endure it, and he screamed in agony. The bolts had missed his heart, if barely; one had burrowed into his left shoulder, the other into his right lung.

The spinning sphere of vampires closed on Rogan. In moments, they would be on him, and he'd be out of the game. He was still tuned to each of them, and now he summoned the image of his cyclone and projected it around him, mentally overlaying the spinning vortex of power on their circular flight. He threw his hands above his head and mentally commanded the cyclone to erupt.

It was like fifty-three spinning tops being dropped into a blender. Vampire bodies were torn to ribbons; arms and legs were torn from bodies, heads ripped off, entrails flying. Blood sprayed outward, covering the floor and walls.

Rogan's eyes were closed, but he could still see them as auras in his mind. Their remnants flew everywhere around him, chased by dying screams of pain. As each mind was extinguished, fleeting images flooded his brain. He saw entire lifetimes, some dating back centuries-lifetimes of memories of loving, hating, winning, losing ... he saw memories of sunrises long past, of bright days always coveted. He saw loved ones left behind in the wakes of their immortality-parents and children and lovers and friends long since dead and gone. As well, he saw feasting on the blood of animals and humans. He saw some who killed for the sheer pleasure of killing, but mostly he saw as Gantu had said: killing only those who deserved it. He saw feasting on humans who never knew it happened. He saw care and finesse, good judgment and wisdom; he saw pitiful creatures d.a.m.ned to en eternity of moons and stars, of shadows and darkness.

And as the last scream ended, and the last scenes of a life snapped like a film reel in a projector, he realized that he mourned the loss of all those live that had paid such a terrible price for immortality, lives with precious memories spanning countless years. He realized suddenly that the experiences of knowing every one of those minds would have been unequalled. The stories they could have told him! The lessons they could have taught! The wonders they could have related! The mistakes from which they had learned, the successes they had celebrated-it was all gone, in those few moments of Rogan's awesome resistance. While he knew he'd had no choice, he wished otherwise.

The echoes died. He opened his eyes, his face wet with rivulets of tears. All about were the remains of the vampires. It was a gruesome factory of body parts gone mad; blood coated everything around him for fifty feet. Rogan hadn't a drop on him. He took a deep breath and turned back to the locked duo.

Gantu stood solidly, unmoving, the two bolts in his chest and shoulder. He didn't appear to have been seriously damaged. Jonah still had the crossbows, each with a bolt left, aimed at him, and was slowly inching closer, stepping forward with his left foot and dragging his right up, like a policeman in a movie nervous about approaching the downed bad guy for fear the guy might suddenly roll over and open fire.

"Two bolts lost, and your aim is off," Gantu said with a grin.

"Not for long," Jonah said.

Rogan strode across the warehouse toward them. The closer Jonah got to Gantu, the truer his aim was to the vampire's heart. Gantu's smile was fading, and Rogan could see his arms trembling at his sides. He was trying to move, but Jonah had managed to keep him bound there.

"When you squeeze that trigger, I'll be on you," Gantu said. "Your concentration is failing."

"Enough!" Rogan called out, double-timing his steps.

"Stay out of this!" Jonah hollered.

Rogan reached them, stood so they were before him, Gantu to the left and Jonah to the right. "I said enough, Jonah. Lower the crossbow and step away. Release your hold on him."

"The moment I do, he'll have me."

"I'll protect you," Rogan said.

"Your powers are impressive, Sabbatarian," Gantu said. "But now you wish to deprive Byrne of his lifelong dream of killing me, and let him merely watch as you do it yourself. Except for the part about me dying, it's almost worth it, knowing he'll be denied his pleasure."

"That's not happening," Rogan said. "I'm here to protect both of you."

"How can I believe you?" Gantu said. "You've just killed sixty of my kindred."

"You set them against me."

"I thought you were here to a.s.sist him."

"I'm here to break this up. Now Jonah, drop the crossbow and release him. And when he does, Gantu ... don't try anything."

"It's not happening, Mallory," Jonah said. "You'll have to kill me. Because I'm killing him."

And then Jonah Byrne's focused concentration faltered as he fine-tuned his crossbows' aims and squeezed the triggers.

It happened in the wink of an eye, but to Rogan everything seemed to slow down. Jonah's crossbows leveled out, even as his fingers began pulling back on the triggers. Gantu's own impressive power overcame the weak link in Jonah's supernatural grip and he lunged at speeds beyond the capability of mortal men.

Rogan spun his mind into action, reaching out four ways at once: two narrow dust devils of power for the small stuff, and two dense vortices for the others.

Jonah's right finger squeezed the trigger and the bolt was unleashed from the crossbow as if from a cannon. It cut through the short distance to the heart of the speeding vampire coming at it. Gantu's eyes brightened to fiery burns, his arms reaching for Jonah's throat, over the top of the rocketing wooden stake. Jonah fired the other bolt right behind the other. It was at a slightly different angle, both homing in, straight and true.

Rogan whipped out at the bolts. The first was already piercing Gantu's chest when Rogan kicked it sideways and it pinwheeled away. He slammed the second with another concentrated beam of power and the next bolt, an inch away, exploded into splinters.

Gantu cleared the distance, hands outstretched and claws digging, nearly at Jonah's throat. Jonah had begun to lean back as he fired, but there was no way he could match the vampire's speed.

Rogan grabbed Gantu with a whirling funnel of magic just as Gantu's hands began closing around Jonah's windpipe, even as he kicked Jonah backward and away from Gantu. Jonah tumbled backward to the floor as Rogan threw Gantu up and back.

Time seemed to return to normal as Rogan let up. Jonah landed on his a.s.s with a THUMP and Gantu landed on his feet several feet back.

n.o.body said anything. The two combatants simply stared at Rogan.

"Nicely done," Gantu said.

Rogan said, "Are you all right, Jonah?"

Jonah sat, elbows on knees, head down. His face was long and sad. "Of course I'm not. A lifetime of chasing him, and you've taken the hope from me. Those bolts would have killed him. I'd have double-staked him-and they were soaked in my own blood, just for good measure."

"I'd have still ripped your throat out," Gantu said.

"Touche," Jonah said. He glared at Rogan then with his good eye. "You ungrateful s.h.i.+t. You were nothing until I told you what you were. Now you're the perfect Sabbatarian, and you're controlling the outcome of my life? I'm the last of my line, the last chance to end it. This was my last chance to succeed."

"You think killing me will rid the world of vampires?" Gantu laughed loudly. "Hardly. It's a twisted, personal thing for you, that's all."

"Every one of you I take with me betters this world."

"We're not all the way you think we are," Gantu snarled. "I'm sick of hearing about it, but you'll never believe otherwise."

"You're heartless killers!"

"Some perhaps, but not most!" Gantu growled and bared his fangs. "Just hurry up and die, old man, so those of us who aren't heartless killers can get on without you."

"That's not going to happen," Rogan said.

"I think the G.o.ds have other plans for him," Gantu said with a sly smile.

"I have other plans."

Gantu and Jonah looked to him curiously. "What are you talking about?" Jonah said.

Rogan pointed to Gantu. "Slice open your wrist."

"What?" Gantu sounded completely bewildered.

"Slice it open. Now."

The vampire's face darkened. "I'll do no such thing-"

Rogan made a motion with his hand as if making a sweeping cut with a machete, at the same time firing out a mental blade. An eight-inch gash sliced open down Gantu's arm, tearing clothing with it. Gantu leaped back in shock. Crimson blood dripped everywhere.

"You f.u.c.k!" he hissed. "You've been lucky so far, Mallory-don't make me show you the limits of your power!"

"Feed him," Rogan said.

Gantu blinked in surprise. "What?"

"Feed him." He nodded to Jonah, and then Jonah and Gantu both understood.

"You can't be serious," Gantu said.

"That isn't going to happen," Jonah said, seething.

Rogan moved his hands like an insane conductor and grabbed them both. Gantu shot forward, blood flying everywhere. Jonah came off the floor with a yell as they hurtled toward each other. Rogan stopped them in mid-air, Jonah's face just inches from Gantu's arm.

Rogan worked a little more magic, and in one swift motion, Jonah's right arm snapped straight up in the air and a similar wound opened up on his arm. He hollered in anguish as his own blood went everywhere.

"And you feed him," Rogan said.

"You can't do this!" Jonah screamed. "A thousand years we've hunted them! You can't dishonor me so! You can't disgrace forty generations of my ancestry!"

"It can't be done," Gantu said, and he was nervous now. "He's a Sabbatarian, like you-he's an antivampire! We're polar opposites. It's never been tried before."

"'Never been tried' is a far cry from 'impossible,'" Rogan said.

He came forward, still in control of the hovering men, and raised his hands. He exuded his power and took complete control over both men's bodies. They screamed in agony until their mouths were full of each other's arms. When he had them firmly in place so they couldn't move, Rogan sped up their hearts and watched as they struggled, kicked, and squirmed up there in the air, all the while being force-fed the lifeblood of the other.

He did it for a hard-pus.h.i.+ng five minutes. He knew Gantu could lose a lot of blood and survive, but Jonah might still need some of his for awhile. When he was satisfied, he released them. They collapsed to the floor, hacking and choking and spitting blood everywhere.

Rogan sat on the cold concrete and crossed his legs. Elbows on knees, chin in hands, he said, "Now, we wait."

They hacked and coughed, but were without energy to move.

They crawled around on the floor for hours, hacking and heaving, trying to stay away from each other but often failing. They swore and threatened each other and Rogan whenever they could manage. Occasionally, one would launch into a brutal seizure and collapse again, rolling violently about, writhing and twisting on the floor, often not breathing and usually not coherent.

By nightfall, both men had stopped moving. Rogan extended his auravision and saw they were still alive. Both had changed, though; neither was what it should have been, and each seemed a mix of the other's.

Jonah woke first, suddenly and with much activity. He was hollering as if in pain, sitting bolt upright and fighting to remove the strands of garlic wrapped around him. It took him some doing, but he finally dislodged himself from the strands and staggered away from them, unsure. It had landed next to his opponent.

Gantu stirred on the floor, turning his head toward the pile of strung garlic. He recoiled when his eyes opened and he growled in anger, rolling away and coming to his feet.

"By the G.o.ds," Jonah said, curling his lips back to reveal his fangs, "what have you done?"