by Charlie Ball, Nathan Gibbard and Paul Cocker
Jacob floated in the sky, surfing the clouds, the breeze cool against his skin. Down below him a city heaved and sighed under the weight of dark occupation. But up here he was free from those concerns for a moments. His thoughts were clear, his movements sure. Unbound by the chains of the earth, he was liberated. Stretching and rolling in the sky, he caught a glimpse of infinity packaged within the wisp of a cloud. His head moved to laugh, touching something attached to his back in the process. Reaching with his hand, he touched a blade and a long handle, both belonging to a fireman's axe now strapped to his back. His thoughts crashed back to earth.
Dipping closer to the grey, cancerous blot of the city he moved effortlessly towards the rendezvous point. He looked around at the deserted buildings. Useless, they seemed to cry out for activity, for life to return and flow through their veins once again. Just like the humans, the buildings and streets whispered up their silent prayers toward heaven, straining and hoping to catch the whisper of a response upon the wind.
Jacob remembered the voice they were straining to hear, remembered how it had stretched and encompassed eternity with a word. He no longer heard that voice except in the mists of memory. Jacob felt the being inside him reach for the memory, longing for it to cloak him in its embrace. He thought he had known loneliness as a human, but nothing compared to the grief of the angel within him who no longer heard the voice of God.
In the distance Jacob saw a shimmer in the air, and the sudden appearance of three human forms. He closed on the shapes, scanning them from a distance. Satisfied, he circled in the air as if signalling to others the location of the newcomers. Pulling his wings into his body, Jacob plummeted head-first towards the ground. Moments before impact, his wings shot out, his body suddenly righting itself. He landed with nary a sound, a few meters from Alex, Trinity and the Outsider. Behind him, a car and a van could be seen turning onto the street.
The creature before them looked very different from the weakened angel that had stumbled into the Protectorate offices a few days ago. Though numerous scars still remained, he looked anything but weak, his aura of light shining brighter than before. Around his waist and crossing his chest were wooden stakes, on his back a gleam of metal from a large axe could also be seen. The quiet dignity he had shown a few days ago was replaced by stern defiance.
"Greetings, and thank you for coming," Jacob's said sincerely. His voice changed abruptly, an unmistakable ring of steel accompanying it; now was the time for action, not words. "We're launching a raid on a vampire safe house they've tried to establish outside of the French Quarter. While I was gone the vampires did their best to hit us hard. For the last few days we've been returning the favour. You're welcome to join us. If not, Arrabella can drive you back to City Hall where we can meet later." He indicated a woman who was getting out of a car behind him.
As Jacob spoke, the Outsider carefully appraised the angelic figure in front of him. He looked over at his two companions, gauging their reaction. Trinity didn't seem too keen on the idea but would not likely try to stop the attack. Alex was looking a little pale but it was tough to tell if it was because the Brit was squeamish or just didn't get enough sunlight. With a slight smile he turned back to Jacob. "So what're we waiting for?"
Alex, feeling a little self-conscious because of his costume, looked around the small group. The Outsider looked almost eager. Trinity, on the other hand, had evidently hoped to have more time to assess the situation. Jacob's face was difficult to read.
"We may as well get started, I suppose. Is there anywhere I can leave my bag?"
"I'll take it," said Trinity. "There are a few things I'd like to check out at City Hall before we start a full scale assault on the French Quarter. We'll also want to double check the comm-link to Monolith and see about working around any other communications problems."
Alex opened the bag and withdrew the two machetes that he had placed inside. As he handed the bag to Trinity, he could hear the Outsider quietly say, "Interesting choice."
Ignoring the Outsider's comment, he thanked Trinity as she took the bag. Turning to Jacob, he said, "Okay. I'm as ready as I'll ever be."
"Great," Jacob replied impassively.
He looked over at Alex, suddenly aware of the young man's costume. A bare hint of a smile crossed his face for the first time and then it was gone. "Barris, tell Sal to meet us at vamp hotel," he said to another man then turned back to Alex. "Sal will be bringing a DJ system for you – I thought you might be able to use it."
Alex had thought Jacob was kidding at the meeting with the Protectorate. Jacob had proposed strapping a stereo to Alex's back. This was apparently what the angel had come up with. He decided that he would keep his mp3 player a little secret, holding it in reserve should it become necessary.
"It certainly couldn't hurt -- as long as they're not limited to Kentucky Bluegrass or yodeling," replied Alex with a forced smile.
Jacob nodded and turned towards the van, where several people stood, their faces anxious yet set. "If you will go with these gentlemen, they know where to go. I'll meet you there." Without a backwards glance Jacob launched himself into the sky.
******
The van stopped out in front of a four-story hotel. Around the building, covering the ground floor windows and doors, were garlands of garlic. Also spaced out evenly around the building were groups of four -- stakes, guns, garlic and other items in hand. Just in case a vampire decided to brave the sunlight, they were there to ensure the vampire didn't get very far.
Jacob stood out on the street, watching his people and the metahumans disembark from the van. Curiously, all of the people wore red arm bands. Jacob talked with someone for a moment then turned his attention towards Alex and the Outsider.
"The plan's fairly simple," Jacob said addressing the two. "Destroy anything that moves without a red arm band -- it indicates they're human. We change them daily so if it has a green arm band, stake it." Jacob walked off towards a van that was positioning itself with its rear end towards the hotel.
The Outsider said to no one in particular, "I like his idea, but if he keeps trying to order me around I'll shoot him myself."
Jacob waved towards Alex, calling him over. "This is Sal," Jacob said introducing a small man with glasses and greying hair. "He'll be running the DJ system for you; just tell him what you want and hopefully he'll be able to find it for you." Jacob turned away and walked towards the Outsider.
Alex looked down at the small man. He looked like he could use a little sleep -- like maybe a week's worth. Alex extended his hand as he introduced himself.
"Hello. I'm Alex St. John-Smythe. Pleased to meet you."
"Sal," replied the smaller man, taking the offered hand and craning his neck slightly to look Alex in the face. "The bird-man says you'd like to hear a little music while you're in their dancin'. What's yer pleasure?" He walked over to the van and opened a door on it's side. Alex saw an odd mix of old equipment and new. The chaos of wires and CD cases strewn about virtually screamed "Fire Hazard," but Alex didn't want to antagonize the man.
"Well, rock 'n' roll would work best I think, or maybe techno-pop -- nearly any dance mix you have would be good. Actually, the style of music doesn't really matter as long as it's got a good beat. Will that be a problem?"
"Mister, if any teenager has danced to it for the last forty years, I've probably got it. How loud do ya want it?"
Alex looked at the hotel again. There were speakers set at various points along the street with cables running back to the van. He turned to Sal and replied, "How loud can you get it?"
"The volume runs on a scale from one to ten -- I can set the dial for eleven. Loud enough?"
"That should do nicely."
Jacob moved towards the front doors, the Outsider beside him. He cleared his throat, addressing those around him. "Alright, here's what's going to happen. The Outsider and I are going to take point. Give us a minute head start, then come in and clean up.
"Alex," Jacob turned and for only the second time since they had met that day, emotion crept into his voice, "I know you probably want to be in there with us; I just thought it might be wiser if you worked up to wholesale vampire-slaying slowly. Don't worry, there'll still be some in there when you get in. Be careful."
Alex smiled briefly. "That," he said, "is probably the most unnecessary thing you'll ever have to say in your life."
Jacob smiled and turned back towards the front doors. Light seemed to be collecting in his hands as they grew in shining intensity. When he felt them ringing with power he shot out a blast of light, shattering the doors. Beyond was darkness. Shifting into the infrared spectrum, he could see the darkness for what it really was. Shapes moved within it, hiding, preparing. He took the axe from off his back.
Jacob growled in an odd harmony, "Vengeance is mine, sayeth the Lord" before he flew into the darkness. Cries of anguish and surprise echoed out onto the street.
"The black hitman in Pulp Fiction had a snappier quote," the Outsider commented before disappearing into the house as well. The sounds of gunfire rang out, adding to the unholy cacophony of sounds now flooding from the building.
Alex noted Jacob's voice as the angel entered the building. There was almost a duality to it, like two voices, with slightly differing pitches, speaking together with an unearthly precision. He signalled to Sal and a couple of seconds later the music began playing at a positively obscene volume. If it had been playing indoors, verbal communication would have been impossible. He hadn't been kidding about turning it up to eleven.
The tune was ''I've Got the Power" by Snap. It was something that had been used in countless movie fight sequences, work-out tapes and night club play lists. It may not have been the most original selection but Alex couldn't argue with its effects.
Alex felt charged – stronger, faster, tougher -- like he could take on a freight train and have a decent chance of winning. He even thought he felt the machetes vibrating on some level but dismissed the idea, thinking, they're just picking up the sound vibration from the speakers.
Alex quickly headed into the doorway to the hotel, not sure what was waiting for him. What he saw was what he should have expected from both his reading and his discussions with Jacob. The reality was enough to make him stop for a moment.
The lobby was dark and covered in blood. There were pieces of bodies strewn about although they were already starting to dissolve. What was left of the faces, the ones that he could make out, displayed a range of emotions from anger and outrage, to fear and surprise. He could hear the sounds of gunfire and a chorus of shouting and screaming. The stench was enough to make Alex want to vomit. Before he could get the chance, he heard guttural roars from several throats behind and to his left.
They had apparently been hiding behind the check-in desk, waiting for the initial attack to pass them by. Seeing Alex by himself, they evidently believed him an easy target and the three vampires attacked.
Alex actually saw them before he had turned to look at them -- the same effect he'd experienced when he was fighting Rook, as though "seeing" a monochrome image without the use of his eyes. His combat training kicked in and before they had moved two steps toward him, he had rolled toward them, regaining his feet in time to plant a solid kick in the chest of one of the vampires. The creature went flying across the room and slammed into one of the blood-soaked walls. It fell to the floor and lay unmoving.
The other two continued to charge, apparently unconcerned with the fate of their comrade. They attacked in unison, one going for his legs, the other slashing at his head. Had Alex not moved beforehand, they might have succeeded in tearing out his throat.
As they approached, Alex vaulted over the attacking pair. The one going for the legs missed entirely and crashed into the floor, his target suddenly not there. The one going for Alex's throat ended up losing two fingers as Alex, mid vault, blocked the incoming attack with one of the machetes. He landed on his feet behind the pair and whirled around.
The vampire that had gone for his legs had regained his feet and the other one, grasping his hand in pain, bared his fangs and the two charged again.
Alex could still clearly hear the music pouring in from the street. Picking up the rhythm of the song, he continued whirling around and took the fight to his attackers. He slashed at the two creatures as they approached, the machetes now clearly thrumming in his hands. He felt almost no resistance as the blades bit into the flesh of his attackers. He stepped back just in time to see the pair fall to the floor and watch their heads roll several meters away
******
Near the back of the hotel, Jacob and the Outsider met by some stairs. Jacob was breathing heavily, but not from exhaustion; his breath bore the unmistakeable resemblance of a raging bull. The Outsider, on the other hand, seemed completely at ease, a wicked smirk across his face.
The Outsider began to speak, and as he did, a vampire's growl was heard. It charged at the two, dripping fangs exposed. A shot rang out. The vampire died in convulsions. The Outsider didn't miss a beat. "I hate techno-crap."
Jacob continued to breathe hard, fighting to control the rage that surged within him. "The second floor...," he finally managed to utter.
"I'll take it, you take the third," the Outsider replied.
"Meet you on the fourth," Jacob said, turning towards the stairs and heading up. The Outsider disappeared into a dark corner and stepped out of a shadow in one of the rooms on the second floor – directly behind a group of waiting vampires. They barely had the time to acknowledge that there was anyone there before they went down in a hail of gunfire
******
Alex stepped back quickly from the remains of the two creatures he had decapitated. The bodies had started to convulse violently and he stepped back in time to avoid being splattered by what Dr. Wight's notes had referred to as "explosive decomposition." Curiously enough, the one that had slammed into the wall continued to lay unmoving. He ignored it for now and concentrated on the sounds of fighting that drifted down from the upper floors of the hotel. He was interrupted by a scream from behind him.
Turning, he saw the body of the vampire that had been slumped against the wall -- only now, it was pinned to the wall by a wooden shaft that protruded from its chest. There was a man wearing a red arm band standing just inside the entrance to the hotel holding what appeared to be a modified spear gun.
"Ya gotta make sure they're down or you could end up getting a nasty surprise," he said, indicating the dissolving remains of the vampire.
"Thanks. I appreciate the help." Alex was interrupted by the sounds of more screaming and gunfire.
"Sounds like yer friends're cleaning house upstairs," the newcomer observed.
"Yes, it does. Has this place a basement or cellar?"
The other man grinned. "If it did, it'd be underwater. Dependin' on where yer standin', you could be above or below sea level. It's why we got so many graves above ground here 'bouts."
Alex grimaced a little. He was already feeling way out of his depth. Now it seemed his degree of ignorance was a few points higher than he would have guessed.
"Well then, are there any buildings or cottages connected to the main hotel -- somewhere than might be holding a few more unwanted guests?"
"Out back," said the other man. "There's a small maintenance building out back -- the laundry's there too. Not too big but it could be big enough to hide a few people."
Alex nodded and drew a deep breath, an unpleasant experience considering the stench. He thanked the stranger and headed for the rear entrance. He noted that the first song had ended and the next was starting -- "Du Hast" by Rammstein, another dance-style tune with a hard, industrial edge to it. He recognized it as a tune that had been playing when he had fought the Matrons of Mayhem with Knock-out.
What an odd coincidence, he thought.
The music was still enough to charge him up physically but the machetes were no longer vibrating as they had. Alex noted that the windows to the building were all blacked out or covered up. He approached the building carefully and stopped in front of the door. There was no sound of movement on the other side although, for an instant, he thought he heard a muffled cry
******
The Outsider glanced out the window after exterminating the vermin residing in 2B. He saw the young Brit kicking in the door to the building in the back and entered it -- alone. The vigilante shook his head in annoyance.
"I thought I told him I wasn't here to play babysitter...," he said as he stepped into another shadow
******
Alex kicked the door in and stepped inside. Too late, he saw the business end of a sledgehammer hurtling toward his head. He managed to block the oncoming object with his blades – barely. The machetes bit deeply into the wood of the handle and stuck there. Alex let go of the blades just as his attacker ploughed into him, carrying him to the floor. Alex was just able to hold him at bay but he noticed more movement at the back of the room.
It was then that another musically inspired ability manifested. Before, in the Boom Room, the song currently playing had empowered him with the ability to generate "thorny bindings," some kind of dark material that enveloped a target and sprouted thorns or spikes to make it difficult to remove without injury. This time, the song caused a more lethal ability to develop.
Along the edge of each hand, and running up to his elbows, dark, serrated, blade-like masses emerged. Instinctively, Alex slashed across the throat of his attacker. As had happened with the machetes, there was little resistance as the serrated mass bit into flesh and the creature's head came away from his shoulders. Blood went everywhere.
The air stirred in front of Alex, and a slender, pale shape seemingly materialized out of the darkness. He looked at the shape, seeing that it was a woman. This revelation made the young Brit hesitate -- he had attacked a woman, even in practice. The vampire's gaunt face twisted into a sinister smile. With clawed hands, the vamp sprang forward, capitalizing on her prey's hesitancy, and slashed across his chest.
If Alex had been wearing street clothes, he would likely have needed stitches. The new costume, however, was enough to keep his flesh intact, if not prevent the sting from the blow. Alex dispatched this one as well, feeling a tinge of regret. He was not a killer and took no satisfaction from taking a life, even if the enemy was not, strictly speaking, alive.
He began to remove the machetes from the hardwood haft of the sledgehammer. As he worked the second blade free, dropping the broken shaft of wood, he heard a slow, almost tentative movement behind him. He whirled around and came face to face with -- a child.
He looked to be eleven or twelve. He wore old clothing, a little too large for him, that had dark stains in various places.
"Please don't hurt me mister. I just want to go home," he said in a pitiful voice.
Alex wasn't sure what to do. He hadn't expected to find anyone alive in here.
"What's your name?" he asked.
"Tommy Wilkinson," replied the boy in a weak voice.
"Where are your parents?"
The boy indicated the dissolving remains of the two bodies on the floor.
Alex hadn't thought he could feel any worse about what he was doing here. He was wrong.
"Alright. Come with me and I'll see what I can do to help."
The boy withdrew from Alex as he extended his hand. Alex started mentally kicking himself.
Of course he doesn't want to come with you, lout! He just watched you dispatch his parents and your arms still look like they came out of Clive Barker's hardware store.
"Alright. Wait here, I'll go get some help."
Alex turned toward the door and he heard a snarl followed immediately by the impact of something slamming into his back. Stumbling slightly from the impact, Alex felt something try to grab onto his throat. Regaining his balance, he twisted slightly and threw off his attacker, sending him crashing to the floor. It was Tommy. The boy's mouth was open far too wide to be natural and exposed overlarge canine teeth. He writhed on the floor for a moment and was still.
Alex moved cautiously toward the still form of the boy and knelt down beside him. Moving aside a fold in the boy's shirt, he saw the broken haft of the sledgehammer protruding from his chest.
"Good job, kid. I didn't think you had it in you"
Alex whirled around and saw a figure in a trench coat emerge from the shadows. The Outsider was looking over the bodies appreciatively. The dark avenger looked at Alex again.
"And barely a drop of blood on you. I'm impressed."
Alex looked down at his costume and, as the other man had commented, there was no blood. It had apparently beaded up on the costume and run off to the floor. Xavier had apparently added some kind of scotch-guard protection to the costume -- or maybe it was an attribute of the Dura-wear fibre in his costume. He noted absently that the blade-like masses were gone from his arms.
"The compliments should go to my tailor," Alex said absently. Alex reached down and closed the boy's eyes even as the body began to decay.
"Don't waste any tears over these leeches. You can bet your inheritance they'd be chowin' down on you if they'd had a chance."
"I don't think this one ever had a chance," Alex said quietly. "And his name wasn't leech. It was Tommy Wilkinson."
The Outsider snorted in disgust. "And here I thought there was hope for you. They're an epidemic that needs to be sanitized. The only way to handle them is to take them out, hard and fast. It's not like they would have survived a transfusion anyway."
An eerie calm crept over Alex. It was as though his brain had over-ridden what his ears had transmitted, refusing the information and telling the body to relax until it was all sorted out.
"What -- did -- you -- say?" he asked quietly, hearing his own voice as if from a great distance
******
New Orleans City Hall was eerily quiet as Jacob walked through the corridors. His people had done well on the raid: a few minor scrapes, some bruises, and a broken arm versus a vampire free hotel. They were sleeping somewhere, away from harms way, as the next shift prepared for the night ahead. They had also spoken well of the newcomer, Alex. Though naive, he had done well by their accounts. That was until...
He found the door he was looking for and opened it. Inside, Alex was sitting in a chair, his head in his hands. Jacob could only guess what was going on in the young man's head. Jacob too had suffered doubts at one point; they had since been replaced by a darker reality fueled by horrible necessity.
"Hey," Jacob offered. He was met by a hard glare from Alex.
Jacob moved further into the room. He didn't know exactly what had happened between Alex and the Outsider, but then again, he didn't have to. "I'm very sorry you found out about the transfusion option the way you did. It could have been handled better. Of course, what do you expect from someone--"
Alex stood up and took a step toward Jacob.
"Found out the way I did?!" yelled Alex in an almost unnaturally loud voice. Jacob thought he heard the windows rattle. The young Brit was actually a few inches shorter than the angel, but it seemed as if Alex were staring Jacob directly in the eyes. A trick of the lighting, perhaps, he thought.
"You mean you actually planned on telling me?!" he shouted. "When? When the last body had dissolved into slime and run down the bloody drain?!" Alex was shaking visibly. "Do the rest of the people here know or have you conveniently left them out of the bloody loop as well?!"
"My people? Yeah, they know, they hear things," Jacob replied, trying to maintain his calm, feeling another force rising within him threatening to match Alex's own anger. He fought it down as best he could. "We're in a war here Alex; you do what has to be done. My people -- they're fighting for their lives, their families, their city. Or is your righteousness only reserved for the undead?"
"My righteousness?! Say rather, my responsibility! A responsibility to protect those who cannot protect themselves," bellowed Alex. "A responsibility to save the lives that can be saved!"
Alex paused and began to pace, with his at his side in knotted fists. "I am not so naïve," he continued, "as to think all of them can be saved. Indeed, it's probable that some of them prefer their current existence, perhaps even chose it freely. But what of those who had no choice, who were given no other options. Do they deserve to be summarily slaughtered because they weren't born with, or granted, the strength to resist or escape?!"
At that moment, Trinity quickly entered the room, followed by another Trinity.
"What's all shouting about?" asked the first Trinity.
"Yeah, you're knocking plaster off the walls," added the second. "Literally."
Alex looked at the angel defiantly. "Tell her," he said, trying to regain some degree of self-control.
Jacob gave Alex a long steady look then turned to Trinity. "On rare occasions, complete blood transfusions can turn vampires back into humans." Jacob continued, whispering. He knew no one was paying attention any longer to what he said, "It's nothing but a false hope."
Trinity looked as if she didn't know how to react. Neither did Trinity.
"For chrissake, kid. We can't threaten these things with billy clubs like they do to criminals in Merry ol' England." The Outsider was standing in the doorway, having returned from wherever he had disappeared to after dropping the bombshell in the maintenance building. "We either hit them hard, and mourn over the innocent later, or we die. Plain. Simple."
"So much easier to mourn the innocent than to try and save them, isn't it?" said Alex acidly. "Have you even tried? Or do you even care?"
The comment was aimed at the Outsider but Jacob's eyes flared dangerously at Alex, yellow wisps within his aura of light exploding in oranges and reds. How long had Alex been in New Orleans, been among the dead and their living victims.
"Don't speak of the innocent, you're not worthy to -- no one is." The thought was Jacob's, but the voice wasn't. He shook his head slightly, regaining control of himself. "To answer your question: yes, I have tried. Does that surprise you?" He didn't wait for an answer. "Another place, another time, I might try again. But here and now -- no, my responsibility is to the Living."
Alex was beginning to wonder with whom he was arguing. "Then what if one of the poor bastards we've killed today might have survived the transfusion and gone on to find the cure to cancer? By denying him the chance to fulfill that destiny, you've actually done a disservice to the Living." Alex could see that this argument was headed nowhere. Shaking his head, he added, "Why am I bothering? He's already written them off as dead!"
"They are dead!" Jacob's voice rose, softening as he continued. He felt a swarm of religious passages from all faiths offer themselves into his mind. He rejected them, as he wanted to speak simply. "All that's left now is to kill the body so the soul can be released to continue its journey."
"If the story is true, so was Lazarus," replied Alex. "Yet he was given a second chance. And all of the other Diseased and the Lame who were healed. If I remember correctly, even in the Old Testament there was never an outright slaughter -- people were always given a warning, a chance to survive... a Choice. Noah and the Ark? Sodom and Gomorrah and Lot's escape? Hell, even the Pharaoh was given multiple warnings to let the Jews go.
Alex had never given too much thought about religious beliefs. He had always thought there was Something beyond what he was and that there was some sort of Plan for how things should be but he had never explored it. The idea was something to ponder another time. It seemed that the time had crept up on him, tapped him on the shoulder and delivered a right cross to his jaw.
"And God hardened Pharaoh's heart," Jacob's whispered. The angel swayed, flashes of memory flooding over him; somehow this was personal, a part of him was related to the events talked about. He would have collapsed if Trinity hadn't provided a lifeline back to the world.
One of the Trinitys looked at Alex sympathetically, and frowned slightly. "Alex has a point," she said, turning to face the Outsider and Jacob. "These people we're killing are victims to the vampires as much as we are. We came here to save New Orleans -- not kill it."
The second Trinity walked closer to Jacob, and spoke. "You refer to these vampires as if they're corpses." She shrugged. "The truth is we don't know how to classify these creatures. All I know is that they were human. And if there's a chance to bring them back to humanity, then I really don't see why you're contending with this option."
The Outsider sighed. "I realized that Alex is a tenderfoot, but Trinity, c'mon -- wake up." The shadowy avenger's gaze shifted, and a sudden coldness let each and every team member know when he was staring at them. "Do you actually expect us to sift through the legion of vampires out there and prioritize which of them is deserving of a blood transfusion. In the medical field that's called triage, and we didn't come here to play doctor."
"This coming from a guy who would call exterminating vampires a 'surgical strike,'" the second Trinity quipped.
"What I expect is that we try to save as many as we can," said Alex, "even if it's only a handful -- the children if no one else." The face of Tommy Wilkinson was still fresh in his memory and would likely remain so for the rest of his life.
"We're in a race that we're losing, folks!" the Outsider yelled. "I don't have time for this child care. If we don't handle the spread of vampirism in the most efficient method possible then we're done like dinner. The longer we dick around, the faster these vampires consume the entire population of New Orleans -- and I mean at an exponential rate!"
As if from a distance Jacob heard the Outsider speaking, his own thoughts were elsewhere. Jacob had wanted to save others the pain he endured, save them the awesome responsibility for lives that no longer wanted to live.
Moving away from one of the Trinity, Jacob walked to the window, watching the rapidly approaching twilight. He remembered the "success" of his and Dr. Laveau's attempts at transfusion. He thought about the lives of the eight they had 'saved' that day: three had committed suicide, two were confined to the psychiatric ward with little hope of ever recovering, two more had disappeared the day after the transfusion. He remembered catching a glimpse of one of the disappeared back with the vampires, returning to a life of the undead.
Jacob knew neither side would win this argument; all that was left was to preserve the bridges as best he could. A single burning question screamed in his mind. "One question: why are you doing this?" he asked Trinity and Alex, no malice or anger in his voice. "Is it really for them, or for you? If it's for you -- there are better ways to make you feel good about what you're doing here." Jacob suddenly found it difficult to speak, and so he turned back towards the window, away from their gazes. "If it's for them," he finally said, "you need to ask yourself truly, would they really want it. Would you want to wake up only to remember the lives you've taken, and the blood you've drank. To remember, you sustained your own life by taking others and revelled in that fact."
Alex thought for a moment. "Both", he finally answered. "If I were in that situation, I believe some part of me would want to be saved from that existence. Killing me would certainly put an end to it, but it would also deny me the chance to redeem myself, even if that redemption took the rest of my life. I would want the opportunity."
Jacob turned back to face them, his eyes never managing to rise to meet theirs. "I know, I just hope you remember what I've said."
Straightening, Jacob momentarily addressed the Outsider. "Whatever we say, they're going to try blood transfusions." Changing his focus to Alex and two of the Trinity, he continued. "I'll help you where I can: basics of the procedure, equipment. In exchange, the Outsider and I deal with them our own way. No matter your success the vampires have to be kept in check, otherwise none of this will matter."
"You have tonight and tomorrow to work it out," said the Outsider with an air of finality. "But I don't see how you'll do it with the Monolith's computers on the fritz."
"Actually, Paragon has installed the filters," a third Trinity interrupted, stepping into the conference room from one of its antechambers. "He's pinpointed the virus that's been inhibiting our satellite surveillance and communications links. He's still cleaning it out, but he claims we can contact him and use the shunter. It'll be limited though."
"Good enough," said the dark avenger. "When the time comes, we can start 'porting these buggers to Death Valley. They should fry up pretty well in the desert."
A thought occurred to Alex. "How many can be teleported at once? And how often?" he asked Trinity. "I mean is there some sort of 'recharge time' before it can be used again?
The third Trinity bit her lip, shaking her head. "If the Monolith's Nerve Center wasn't presently being circumvented, we could beam up a township of ten thousand people. And the Nerve Center wouldn't need to be recharged at that power level. But with the filters in place, peripheral computers are being utilized in order for the shunter to operate."
"We can activate the Monolith's planetary sensory array," another Trinity added, "providing us with the necessary super-telescope for accurate visual traces of any spot on the Globe. We also have the power required to heat the shunter's target to a hundred billion degrees Celsius, thereby turning the target's atoms into the necessary stream of quarks to phase through the Monolith's hull and arrive at the shunter's bay..."
"But the peripheral computers lack the Nerve Center's storage capacity," the last Trinity said. "The shunter needs to record the position and state of every atom of its target to be transported, but the biggest problem is the Heisenberg Uncertainty Principle, which says that the position and state of an atom can't be configured exactly because it's always moving. And so the computer has to factor countless mathematical variables... We're looking at the shunter operating at probably one-thousandth of its usual level, and it would need to metabolize more energy in its power cells-"
The Outsider interrupted with a hard sigh. "What 'Tic,' 'Tac,' and 'Toe' are so eloquently trying to say is that the Monolith can probably teleport fifteen to sixteen people at a given time using its auxiliary computers. It would need to recharge after this." He looked at the Trinity. "Say a ten-minute break for a proper recharge?"
The Trinity all nodded in agreement.
"Can the Monolith's sensors distinguish between individuals or just identify X number of people?" asked the Brit.
One of the Trinity shook her head. "I would have to guess that the shunter's sensory systems can't discriminate at partial power, not unless the target's genetic signature has already been downloaded into the peripheral computer systems."
"Then, could we use some kind of marker or dye that the Monolith's sensors could pick out, maybe the kind that is mildly radioactive like they use in CAT scans?"
"Yes, the sensors should be able to pick out that level of detail," replied Trinity, beginning to see what he was getting at. "It would just be a question of marking the target with the dye."
"Paintballs?" said a man's voice. Standing in the doorway was a black man of average height who was slowly losing the battle against the 'middle-age spread.' He looked around at those who had come to help New Orleans. "Would paintballs work? We could put whatever marking dye you want to use inside of paintballs. I heard most of what was said and though I don't think it'll work, as my Rabbi once said 'When there is no hope, you have to invent it.'"
Everyone turned to look at the newcomer, something that seemed to cause the man some discomfort but apparently no apprehension. Jacob was the first to speak.
"This is Delroy Sheister," Jacob said before adding, as if this contained everything that was needed to understand the new arrival. "He owns a PR firm."
"Glad to meet you," Delroy said, moving past the others to shake Alex's hand. As Delroy retracted his hand, Alex found Delroy's business card in his hand. "I'm working with the winged wonder of justice." This last statement prompted a grunt from Jacob.
"I think I can get in touch with a guy who can scrounge up the necessary supplies if you want 'em. Maybe even find a few extra people to help." Delroy continued, shaking his head. "You've gotta understand, they're not going to be too thrilled. Whatever the vampires used to be, after two months of watching them kill their friends, families and fellows, people aren't going to be too happy about tagging them on the shoulder, when they can stake 'em in the heart."
"I think the paintballs are an excellent suggestion," replied one of the Trinitys. "If you can find people willing to help, they would be welcome, even if it's only to manufacture the ammunition. If you can set that in motion, I'll contact Paragon and have him begin setting up the transfusion centers.
Another Trinity added, "We'll also need the proper equipment and personnel to safely sedate and handle the patients."
"Then I suppose the only thing left to do is decide who should be tagged for transport," said Alex.
"Since you insist on this tactic, I'll leave that decision to you," Jacob responded. "I hope you can deal with the consequences" The angel stood and headed for the door.
"Alright boys and girls, now that everything's settled," the Outsider said, looking at each of them in turn, "we're wasting darkness."
"Come on Delroy, I'll help you get what is needed for this -- venture." Delroy looked from Jacob to Alex and back again. Then he shrugged and followed Jacob out the door.
Alex watched the angel exit the room and said to himself, "I hope I can deal with it, too"
******
Jacob opened the door and stepped outside New Orleans City Hall, rubbing the back of his neck. He needed some fresh air, clear his thoughts to focus on the night ahead. It would be another night of destruction followed by a day of heartache. It had been that way for two months.
The Outsider's voice broke through the night air, stepping out of a shadow. "They're really going through with this transfusion crap?"
"What did you expect?" Jacob replied, shaking his head.
"I expected better." The Outsider continued moving towards Jacob, never seeming to leave the shadows. "It's kill or be killed -- we know it, and now they'll learn it."
"You don't kill them," Jacob said softly, almost to himself.
"What?"
"You don't kill vampires," Jacob said turning, trying to find the face within the shadows surrounding the Outsider. "You stake them, destroy them, eradicate them, but you don't kill them; you can only kill what's alive."
There was movement within the darkness, as if the Outsider was shaking his head. "Spare me the sermon, angel-boy. It's all the same."
"No, it isn't," Jacob managed to squeak out, his mind threatening to drift to another place and another time.
"Wait a minute," the Outsider replied. Suddenly, Jacob felt the cold, icy gaze of the ominous vigilante as if boring into him. Jacob didn't need this, not now. The Outsider continued matter-of-factly. "So how many you killed?"
"Does it matter?" Jacob spat back bitterly, images of the blood and gore of that night suddenly fresh in his mind.
"No, just curious," the Outsider said simply. "It's good to know who can pull the trigger and who can't in a pinch."
Jacob found himself gulping in air and looking up into the night sky. He remembered that night well, even after the months that had past between them. Remembered waking up to the blood and shattered bodies. The smell of burnt flesh.
Most of all he remembered watching the world turn red before being plunged into darkness, only to awaken to find his hand wrapped around a person's face moments before a light blast shattered it. He hoped he would remember that face forever. He wondered what the Outsider was thinking: what was going on in his cold, detached mind?
Finally, the Outsider broke the silence. "You got any garlic?"
******
Jacob wandered into the night, intent on checking the vampiric horde that plagued the city. Yet, he wondered about the rightness of his actions. He had given up on transfusions as an option as the transfused had given up on life. What right did he have to do that?
Vampires lunged from the darkness. A flash lit the night, light coalesced into a sword, and moments later two vampires lost their head. Worse than giving up on life, he had taken it. Was this the root of his pain? If Trinity and Alex were successful, more so than him, then he had killed and not merely destroyed. He wondered how many lives could be laid at his feet.
Thud, thud, two more vampires exploded into non-existence. Thud, one more would never see the dawn. Did he hope Alex and Trinity met with the same failure as he had? No, how could he. There was still enough human left in him to not wish that responsibility on anyone.
Still, he could not see how he had erred in his actions. His attempts at transfusions had failed, the city was in dire need, they were alone, cut off from the outside world; the people needed strength and a symbol of defiance. He had tried to offer both, and by so doing, gave back the possibility of life to the city. But at what cost?
Two stakes flew, light lashed out. More vampires ended their rampage of destruction. No, he would rejoice if lives could be saved. He would smile and offer a pat on the back to Trinity and Alex, while the weight of the dead piled on his shoulders. He could handle the weight, simply because he could and should.
Oh, how he wanted to forget! The yellow and orange sparks within his aura beckoned to him, as if yearning to explode into the red. All he had to do was give himself over to the rage that boiled beneath the surface. He felt it; giving him strength and power. The red would flow and he would wake in the morning, his task finished for another night.
He had fought against the red for almost every night the last two months. He needed to see what he did, to feel the weight of it so that he never became complacent about what was at stake. Besides, the red smelt of burning flesh. But he didn't want to fight anymore, he just wanted one night of peace. In this place the red might even be a benefit. Cold and efficient, it could destroy far better than he could. He just wanted to rest.
A vampire flew at him, her eyes full of hate and bloodlust. Slipping into the darkness of forgetfulness he allowed himself to succumb to the flood of red.
******
At first, the vampires couldn't believe their luck. How often was it that dinner walked in through the front doors to present itself? Far too seldom in these days, they thought. The humans had grown cautious, and so meals became harder to come by. But there he was, a lone quarry.
The older vampires stopped as the quarry moved closer, then they yowled, like bloodhounds that caught a bad scent. There was something about this so-called human that made him different than any other kill. He moved with a nonchalance, a casual grace that one carries when among peers. And that's when the creatures of the night could feel the air of death about him. But the younger vampires weren't as aware. They only saw a human, with his succulent flesh masked by the long coat and wide-brimmed hat he wore. But it was there, they claimed -- he was only human after all.
Shooting into their midst, he disappeared out the door he had come through. Laughing at the futility of the action, the younger vampires swarmed out the door, oblivious to their missing, older brethren.
The hunt would be short -- they knew it. What mortal can outrun those who do not breathe? The chase only quickened the appetite. They would feed upon his life force before the sun broke. What flavors would he provide from his shadowy body?
Just up ahead he ran. He did not ooze fear yet. He would soon enough. They would taste of it and live again. They were the one's who truly lived, not those pale shadows of the day. How could one live scampering about, a slave to a hundred masters?
The shadowy man was just scant feet away. As if sensing this, he bolted around a corner. Silly man, he only postponed the inevitable. As they turned the corner, he had surged ahead again. Adrenalin would do that; another master the pale ones bowed to. Soon enough he would be theirs.
They almost laughed in their joy; the foolish man was heading towards a cemetary of all things. It was their playground, and in the open, he would have nowhere to run. He dashed about the grounds, parting through the Spanish ivy that adorned the wrought-iron gateways and antebellum tombs. He headed towards a lichen covered mausoleum. So this crypt would be the point of this final resistance, they thought, how wonderfully ironic!
Into the crypt the man dashed. In after him the vampires flew; so many of them, so hungry. What trick of the light was this? He was not in the crypt! The door slammed shut, cutting off what little light there was. Then they smelled it, choking them, crawling into their throats and ripping at their insides. Survival. Must get out. The thoughts were as pure as their desire. The stone that surrounded them proved stronger than their thoughts.
Through the baneful smell another aroma wafted in the air. The pain of the garlic held in check, one vampire smelled the air and quivered. Kerosene. Bending down he felt the slick floor, felt the liquid on his hand, smelled it. Kerosene. Through a crack in the door he glanced out.
The man was lighting a match out in front of the crypt. A strange thought filled the vampire: so this is what it is like to stare into oblivion. Then his world ended in flame.
******
Alex sat on the rooftop of City Hall, staring off into space. The moon was not quite gone, the last quarter hanging in the night sky. Looking at the night sky, he hoped to find the answer to his current situation, an answer that, so far, he couldn't find in himself.
He sat alone for quite a while before he heard the familiar rustling of old and tattered material.
"I don't suppose it would do me any good to ask how you got here," said Alex.
"Oh, I don't know," replied Weaver. "It might"
Alex gave a half-smile and asked, "Okay, how did you get here, Weaver?"
Weaver shrugged and answered, "I dunno. I was listening to a whale song a little while ago, then I felt a Need to be here. Next thing I know I'm watching you brood on a rooftop. I was going to try knocking but I couldn't find one of those door knocker things"
"Typical," replied Alex, shaking his head. "Predictable, I suppose; an act of purest optimism to have posed the question. So. Did you need anything in particular or are you just here to drop a few cryptic comments and disappear again."
"Cryptic comments? Me? You must be confusing me with someone else," said the old man. Looking around, Weaver continued, "If you don't mind my saying so, you've chosen a very odd place to relax."
"Relaxing is probably the something I'll not be doing for quite a while. I've come here to be alone," Alex said pointedly. "I've a very difficult decision to make. I'm sure that whatever decision I make will end in disaster but there's no way around it."
"Oh, I find that difficult to believe. Nothing ever ends in disaster because nothing ever ends - even if it sometimes appears otherwise. Is there any way I can help?"
"Can you tell me an easy way to choose who will be condemned to die and who gets a second chance at life?" asked Alex.
"No. Hopefully, you will never find such a decision easy," answered Weaver solemnly. "I'm sure one of the Royal Elite could tell you, but I wouldn't advise asking any of them. In fact, if there should ever come a time when you'd find such a task easy, I would be very worried about the future of Mankind."
Alex thought about Weaver's words and found some comfort from the words. Small comfort to be sure, but comfort nonetheless.
"Thank you, Weaver."
"No problem. I'll be off now," Weaver announced. Before he headed to the door on the roof, he paused, a thoughtful expression on his face. "As you ponder your decision, remember to give equal weight to what your heart tells you as well as your head -- you'll stand a better chance of coming to the best decision even if it's not the preferred one"
Without waiting for a response, Weaver turned and stepped through the door, vanishing to God-knows-where.
Alex, once more alone with his thoughts, continued to consider his options. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he noted the passage of time. But as little time as he had, he felt no desire to rush his decision.
How can I decide? Alex thought. By what right can I say who lives or dies? On what do I base my decision? What if I choose wrong?
These questions, and many like them, were posed. Each question that he asked himself was met with a profound silence, as if the Universe heard but did not care to respond. Or worse -- did not care.
Finally, when he had asked his last unanswered question, he asked himself one more.
What if I don't choose? That question was one he could answer himself. They'll all be slaughtered. No one will have a chance.
He finally made his decision at sunrise. He didn't know if it was right but he felt it was the one he had to make - for good or ill.
Now we have to implement it, he thought. God help us all
******
"There will be two priorities for tagging. They're simple and straightforward. First, if they look like they're too young to get into a pub on their own, tag them"
Alex let that sink in for a moment. He was addressing the small group of people who had agreed to be 'taggers', volunteers armed with paintball guns who would be helping to tag candidates for blood transfusions, hopefully curing those that were tagged of vampirism. A few of them also had nets that had garlic woven into them.
"The second," Alex continued, "is to tag anyone your conscience tells you to."
After the small murmur died down, Alex said, "I don't expect you to be infallible in your judgement. It may be that the people we try to save don't want to be saved. I'm told that the success rate for the cure is pretty dismal, perhaps one out of eight -- perhaps worse. If you have any doubts, ask yourself: 'What if that one person were me? What if it were my son, or daughter, or wife?' Would you just leave them in the darkness to die or would you fight to bring them back into the light -- to live?"
The small group was silent as Alex spoke. "Just remember that many of those poor bastards are victims as surely as any of the people they've put in the morgue. You have the chance to save those victims. Don't let the chance slip away. Are there any questions?"
There was a brief moment of silence, then Alex continued.
"Alright then, make whatever preparations you need to and meet back here in an hour."
Alex checked the "weapon" at his side. The paintball gun was somewhere in size between a large handgun and a small rifle. It used a carbon dioxide cartridge to propel the paintballs and was fitted with a sling to make it easier to carry. The magazine, more of a hopper really, held fifty "rounds" -- small, hardened gelatin balls, each filled with a mildly radioactive dye similar to what was used in medical diagnostic scans.
The Outsider stepped out of the deepening shadows of the courthouse.
"Pretty speech, kid. I still think it's a waste of time," he commented.
"Ask me if I'm surprised," replied Alex. In the last twenty-four hours, he had developed a distinct dislike for the man in the dark trench coat and, at the moment, didn't feel much like hiding it.
"In fact," continued the dark avenger, evidently trying to get in a few more barbs, "I thought you made the decision look pretty easy. There might be hope for you yet."
Alex stopped and turned toward the Outsider. Resisting the urge to respond physically, he let out a slow breath and calmly said, "Until just now, I had thought only one of the Royal Elite were capable of regarding that kind of decision as 'easy.' Looks like I was wrong."
Alex turned and headed into the courthouse to find Trinity. He had a few more things to discuss before everything started.
******
Even with the help of her duplicates, setting up the site for the transfusions was a logistical nightmare. She had initially thought about trying to set up multiple sites but then discarded the idea. If something were to go wrong in one or more of them, the vampires might escape and the problem would be even more widespread.
The Trinity worked well into the night, communicating with the Monolith, setting up the containment protocols and the procedures for sedating the patients for the transfusions. As a safety precaution, she also set up the protocols for dealing with any vampire that escaped the containment area.
The Louisiana National Guard had been mobilized for the effort at the Protectorate's request. Supplies of garlic had been transferred to the site for use in containment and control of the vampires; it was also processed into a pepper spray like weapon in case it was necessary to pacify the vampires until a transfusion was done. Additional National Guard units were on their way to New Orleans to help the beleaguered citizens hold back the vampire attacks.
Finally, she had supplied Paragon with the information on the marking dye for the Monolith's teleporters to lock onto as well as the transport coordinates. The sensors would lock onto anyone marked by the dye and having a overall body temperature lower than seventy-five degrees. She also arranged for portable sensors to be set up in a larger radius around the transfusion center. If one of the vampires that had been transported managed to get past the sensors, the Monolith would be informed and that vampire would find itself in the middle of the dessert under a very bright sun -- nature would do the rest
******
The sun had dipped below the horizon, not that it had actually been noticed. The cloud cover had been pretty heavy all day. The last few vehicles of the convoy were still thirty minutes outside of New Orleans. There had been some unexpected road hazards -- deliberately placed -- an hour back. The bulk of the convoy had gone ahead while the few vehicles to actually be disabled repaired their flats.
Shortly after the main body of the convoy had disappeared from sight, the vampires struck. They had been covered head to toe to protect themselves from the last few minutes of daylight. Even so, they struck quickly, lest the protection prove to be inadequate for an extended period. Five minutes after the attack had begun, it was over.
They had been forbidden to feed and commanded to kill as cleanly as possible. The uniforms of the Guardsmen would be useless if they were spattered with blood. Now that the sun had gone down, the attacking vampires quickly changed into the uniforms of their victims. Because there was not enough time to conceal the bodies, they were thrown in the backs of the trucks. It would not go well if the bodies were discovered too soon.
The citizens of New Orleans were going to receive a rather nasty surprise in the coming night. Rather nasty indeed
******
As Jacob landed and opened the front doors of New Orleans City Hall it was clear to anyone with eyes that he was in a less than pleasant mood. Apart from the doors slamming open, the aura of light that constantly surrounded the angelic figure was bathed in black and shades of grey. It almost appeared, as he walked down the corridors, that the lights themselves flickered and were momentarily absorbed into the darkness.
After the anger of the night he had sought the solace of the sky. As always it had helped to clear his mind and thoughts, but only while he had slipped the bonds of earth. The closer he came to the ground, the heavier his thoughts. He had made a point of not returning to the City Hall, choosing instead to sleep on the air and embracing the occasional ray of sunlight as it slipped through the cloudy sky. Did he stay away because of the transfusions, or because he longed for a brief respite from his duty to the citizens of the city? He wasn't sure.
Then night had come, and with it something wrong. The streets were barren of vampires when they should have been filled with them. The silence of the streets seemed to withhold a sinister secret. With every fibre of his being Jacob felt that something was not quite right. As Jacob had come closer to the sickening steel and asphalt, his spirit had drooped. His aura of light, a physical manifestation of this mood, mirrored his emotions. Now, in such intimate contact with the ground, he felt chains encircling his heart. He continued down the hallways.
Coming out of a room, Delroy noticed Jacob and his condition. "Evening Sunshine. I'd make a quip about a dark cloud following you, but that be just too easy. You do realize that black doesn't tend to be considered a 'guardian-like' color right?"
"Bite me," Jacob snapped back then paused. It was the first truly human comment he'd made in months; it felt surprisingly good, almost restful. Jacob continued, "Sorry, it's just -- something's not quite right. Out in the streets, it's... wrong somehow. I need to talk to someone."
"Alex is down the hall," Delroy replied calmly. "He's taking a much needed break."
Jacob turned fully towards Delroy, his expression troubled. "That's not what I meant."
"I know. Doesn't mean he's not down there," Delroy countered, his gaze fixed on Jacob. "You should talk to him, he's had a hard day."
Jacob felt the lump in his throat. He knew Delroy was right. He realized he had Delroy to talk to when this hell had washed over his head; Alex needed someone too. Alex probably had friends and even family in New York that he could turn to when he went back. This, however, wasn't New York and regardless of masculine facades, Jacob knew Alex might need someone to talk to here and now.
After a reminder from Delroy, Jacob calmed his aura, returning it to its lighted norm. He found the room that Delroy indicated. Before he reached the door, he heard the sound of someone playing a guitar. Looking into the room, Jacob saw Alex. He was sitting on the edge of a chair, holding the instrument, fingers running lightly over the strings. Jacob briefly wondered where he got the guitar.
The tune was unfamiliar to Jacob, but as he listened, something in his angelic half stirred. It was an odd feeling, as though the memory of an emotion long forgotten had briefly surfaced and played at the edge of his awareness. It hinted at a Longing, not for something lost, but for something that would -- one day -- be gained.
Before the feeling came into focus, the Music stopped.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to ignore you. I wasn't aware there anyone was standing there," said Alex.
Jacob tried to think of something witty to say, something smart to start off. All that came out was a soft, "Not a problem."
"I'm glad to see you're in one piece. I was concerned when you didn't return this morning." After a short pause, Alex added, "How did things go last night?"
"Don't really know," Jacob whispered sardonically to himself. Shaking his head, Jacob continued, "Doesn't really matter. How about you? After all, you're the one organizing a resistance for the forces of life."
"I suppose I'm doing well enough, considering," said Alex. "Two days ago, my most difficult decisions were 'what to wear' and 'where to eat.' By comparison to the last twenty-four hours, those concerns have been trivialized by several orders of magnitude."
"Welcome to the Gates of Hell, can I take your order?" Jacob tried to add a bit of levity to the situation. He hoped it helped Alex, but it didn't, really. "What was that piece of music you were just playing? It sounded not quite familiar, but a part of me almost seemed to"
"What, just now?" he replied. "I don't know. Sometimes I just start playing and see what happens. It helps me unwind a little and clears my head. I sort of wish I had my DAT recorder. It would have saved me the trouble of replaying it when I get back to New York."
"How do you like it, New York I mean? Do you have a good support network waiting for you?" Jacob didn't want to pry, but he thought it was important.
At first, Alex wasn't quite sure what Jacob meant. Then he understood. "Someone to talk to? Not really. Not about things like this anyway. I mean I have a few friends, but I haven't known them very long - I've only lived there for a few months." Alex ran through the list of the people he knew in New York. Professor Greene at Juilliard. Mestre Juca, his capoeira teacher. A few restaurant owners. And Sarah Steiner
"I suppose I could talk to Sarah -- you'd probably know her as Knock-out -- once we catch up with each other. She's in Philadelphia right now trying to help Dr. Wight track down a murderer, apparently a metahuman."
"When you get back to New York, do me a favour? Talk to her about this, about what happened here. Let her and your family know what you lost." Jacob paused, searching. "Hopefully if you do that, when this is all over, you won't be searching for your soul out there in the rubble."
Jacob eyes glazed over for a moment before starting himself back into the present. "How's the transfusion thing going?"
"Trinity has set up the transfusion center. The volunteers that Delroy found have their instructions. I suppose the only thing left to do is find out where Vamp is hiding and what she's up to."
Just then, one of the locals burst in.
"We've got a problem!" he said, trying to catch his breath. "We just found a bunch of bodies in a couple of the National Guard transports -- must be thirty at least -- and all of them are dressed in their underwear!"
At that moment, the sounds of battle could be heard coming from outside
"Of course -- I knew something was off!" Jacob yelled. "It was too quiet tonight!" Pointing at the man who entered, he commanded, "Seal up the hall tight, get everyone you can back into defensive positions. Alex, you should get the transfusions centers sealed up and readied. I got a bad feeling, one way or the other, this is going to end tonight."
Alex reluctantly put down the guitar. "Trinity has it pretty well in hand, I think. I'll let her know things are about to get going."
"Sir," the man replied, "There's a problem; a bunch of the local boys took up positions outside and at some other buildings at the urgings of some of the Guardsmen."
An explosion of red, yellow, and orange filled the room, and an unearthly roar came from the heart of it. Seconds later, the bursts of light settled to reveal a hardened Jacob standing, heaving with anger, his fists surging with fiery halos. "I'll deal with the Guardsmen," the angel growled. "Alex, can you let Trinity and the Outsider know what's happening -- if they don't already -- and get the people in here organized?"
"I'll alert Trinity," said Alex. "I haven't seen the Outsider all day. If I can find him, I'll tell him."
Alex's tone suggested that his search for the dark avenger would not be too intense.
"Good. We have to hold the line here. I got a feeling that they'll be throwing everything they have at us tonight." Jacob started flying towards the window and stopped. "Alex, save those you can, but know when to pull the trigger if you need to. I'll see you in the sunlight."
Jacob shot out of the window in a streak of prismatic fury.
Alex walked over to where his bag sat on the floor. The machetes he had brought were splayed on top of it. He almost chose to leave them there, but, considering Jacobs words, decided against it. It was conceivable he would need them after all, especially if he came face to face with Vamp and her inner circle.
He grabbed his paintball gun off of the table and headed out to find Trinity and the Outsider.
******
Following the cries and shouts of battle, Jacob made his way a couple of blocks west of City Hall. The site that met him was much as he feared. Guardsmen were fighting locals and other Guardsmen, no one sure who was the enemy and who was a friend. Shifting his sight into the infrared, Jacob suddenly changed all that.
Swooping down like an angel of destruction, Jacob was able to cut through the human facade the vampires were utilizing most effectively. They might have worn the clothes of National Guardsmen, but the vampires could not hide the coolness of their bodies. Light flashed, heads were severed and stakes flew, freeing many from immediate danger. As Jacob yelled instructions, those from New Orleans started striking back. Still, Jacob noted with concern, they were scattered widely about.
"Over here, we have to regroup at the Bank," a voice yelled to be heard over the noise and pointing to a nearby building. It as soon met by other calls to regroup. People started running towards the sounds.
Jacob looked over at those yelling; they wore the uniforms of National Guardsmen. Though they wore the uniform, as Jacob's eyes pointed out to him, they were not serving the national interest. More people ran towards the sound, anxious for some security in numbers. Jacob raced to head them off. Without a word, he struck at the person who had begun the yelling, a stake piercing its heart. A moment later the staked body exploded in gore.
The people slowed, witness to the scene. Several of those in the crowd wearing the uniform of a Guardsmen and moments before advocating retreat, began to look around anxiously, slowly moving away. Before Jacob could do anything, an explosion rocked the air, knocking him off his feet and showering debris onto the street. When he looked around, the building they were to "regroup" at was utterly destroyed.
Jacob looked out at the people, his eyes finding no cool heat signatures. Indeed, looking at them, he recognized most of the faces as those who had fought beside him during the last two months. Jacob raised himself into the air slightly, his aura of light expanding, like a beacon to those humans who struggled. People continued to gather as the sounds of battle continued to fill the air, this time in the direction of City Hall.
He scanned the crowd, watching as faces of shock changed into faces of defiance. Jacob's own heart swelled at their courage; average people standing up to the darkness that threatened them. How could he do anything less? The people seemed to be waiting for him to speak, waiting for guidance from their city's guardian angel. Scanning the crowd again to ensure no vampires were present, Jacob spoke.
"This ends tonight! No more living in fear, no more cowering at the darkness. They have played their hand, now it is up to you and me to determine whether New Orleans dies here tonight, or whether it will be reborn. As the phoenix is reborn in fire and ash, so too will New Orleans be reborn in courage, strength, blood, and the force of our will. Heaven pity those who face us tonight!" Jacob's voice rose in intensity. "They think you weak! Well, we'll show them just how weak the human spirit is and run them out of the city in the process! They started this, we end this!"
Jacob stared out at the fire in their eyes, a fire that matched his own. The beginning of an idea formed in his mind. "Meet me at Zen Center on Camp Street. If anybody comes and you don't know them, make them chew some garlic or something. I'll be there soon."
Jacob rose back into the sky, as his people made makeshift stakes and sought out secret store piles of garlic and other weapons. From his vantage point in the sky, Jacob could see the mass of vampires heading towards the City Hall and the surrounding buildings. Appearing to almost form something of a wedge, the vampires seemed intent on throwing themselves at the humans and metahumans holding them at bay.
His idea completed, Jacob dived back down towards the ground, intent on saving a few more lives threatened by the vampires. He looked back towards New Orleans City Hall, everything depended on them holding those buildings. Scattered, the humans, and even metahumans, would be easier pickings for the horde that threatened to engulf them. But if the anvil could hold, maybe, just maybe, the hammer could crush the darkness into oblivion.
******
Alex ran through City Hall in the hopes of spotting either Trinity or the Outsider. The Outsider, however, was nowhere to be seen.
He probably knew what was happening before anyone else did, he thought. Most likely he's somewhere out there using guerrilla or lynch tactics against the vampires -- more his style
According to someone in the hall, the Trinity had apparently transported to the transfusion center to await the arrivals of the first patients. For some reason, he felt better that she was out of harm's way even though it was likely that she could weather the attack better than he.
Alex dashed outside of City Hall. The best description for what he could see was organized chaos.
Citizens were scrambling everywhere, going to where they were needed most at that moment. Some had weapons that looked like modified spear guns. Others had more traditional weaponry. There were a few with canisters that had been fire extinguishers at one point, now modified to spray a liquefied garlic concentrate; it was harmless to humans but had an effect like tear gas on the vampires.
There were a few people in National Guard uniforms being subjected to a quick spray from the garlic canisters. Once it was proven that they weren't vampires, they were given blue arm bands and sent to help on the front line.
May as well pick a place to start
Alex signalled to Sal, who was waiting just inside the main entrance to City Hall. The song that blared out of the speakers, this time pointing away from the building, was oddly appropriate -- the theme from Mortal Kombat, by the techno band Utah Saints. As he felt the power surge from the music, Alex wondered if it were a coincidence or if the DJ had selected it intentionally.
Alex tucked the machetes inside a web belt that he had picked up earlier and drew the paintball gun and leapt over the barricades. Far over the barricades, in fact. Perhaps a little too far. He landed amidst a throng of the creatures and, before they knew what had dropped on them, he had dropped two with a vicious spinning kick and tagged three more with paintballs.
The expressions on their young-looking faces started with surprise then changed to outrage and anger. Just as they were about to attack, they suddenly vanished as the Monolith's teleporters locked onto their relative positions and sent them to the transfusion centers. As he had before, Alex picked out the sound of the Music that he identified with Travel, although, this time, it was subtly different. Rather than dwell on it, he filed the memory away for study at a later time.
The attacking vampires still came and Alex continued fighting. The music changed periodically but there was never a moment of silence between songs. One often flowed into another. As the songs changed, so did Alex's abilities: an updated Tears For Fears song, "Shout-2000" by Disturbed, produced a "sonic shout-blast" (as Alex thought of it) that allowed him to clear a fairly large area in his immediate vicinity. Using the ability he found that he could knock down the vampires. This allowed both him and others to either tag the vampires or, more often, dispatch them.
The fighting went on for quite a while this way. The song would change, sometimes he would just get an extra boost to his already metahuman-level abilities, sometimes a new ability would manifest: energy-charged punches and kicks, the ability to become insubstantial, and so on.
For a moment, Alex was optimistic that they would have the vampires defeated in short order. Then the sound of an explosion reached his ears. And the music went silent.
Apparently the vampires had taken more than just uniforms from the ambush on the National Guard unit. A Light Anti-tank Weapon had been used on City Hall. The weapon took out an area at the front of the building -- the area that Sal had used to set up his sound equipment. As the music faded, so did Alex's abilities
******
After a few quick hits against the vampires to save a few more people, Jacob flew to the Zen Center. His plan would need all the help he could get, and those few extra souls could spell the difference between ultimate victory and complete defeat. He had heard a blast coming from the direction of City Hall, and was sorely tempted to retreat. But this was not a night for retreat; it was a night for sacrifice and heroism with its ultimate goal being to return New Orleans to its human inhabitants. The people fighting at City Hall would hold, they had to.
Arriving at the Zen Center, Jacob couldn't believe his luck. Scanning the crowd, and finding no vampiric presence, he estimated about 200 people had made their way there. Even some of the National Guard were there, now sporting blue armbands. Flowing from their eyes was the look of determination that had served their survival thus far, but something else gleamed in their eyes as well: hope.
After a few words of encouragement and orders from Jacob, the human force was on its way. Following Jacob and moving silently through the night, they made their way slowly behind the masses of vampires. As the occassional rogue vampire crossed their path it was dealt with quickly and efficiently -- two months of grisly training saw to that. Finally, when Jacob was satisfied, they stopped.
Five groups of twenty broke off from the main force, as it dug into temporary positions in alleyways, buildings and whatever other cover they could find. The groups of twenty moved forward into the darkness. Preying on the stragglers from the vampire army, and those too intent on feeding to concern themselves with the battle raging ahead of them, the human forces struck quickly and savagely before retreating. Often they were aided by strange globes of darkness that appeared from the sky, hiding their retreat.
After securing the area from lone vampires, Jacob and the rest of the human force went into stage two. The picked their killing ground, positioning cars and other objects at one end of the street, careful to leave a small space by which to escape, while leaving the other end wide open. Gathering as many weapons as they could -- modified spearguns, crossbows, bows and arrows, and even make-shift spears and regular guns -- most of the force hid themselves in the surrounding buildings.
Fifty men and women volunteered to be the lure. Smashing into the backside of the main vampiric force with a fierce intensity, many of the vampires turned to engage these pests. Just as the vampires seemed to turn to fight off this incursion, the humans broke and ran. Not willing to give up a free meal, the vampires followed.
Fleeing through the streets, the humans lead their foes on a deadly chase. Finally, turning down one street they ran, disappearing through a carefully constructed opening of cars. The vampires continued the chase. As the weight of their numbers poured onto the street, they were assualted on all sides by a flurry of weapons. Seeking escape, they turned back the way they came, only to be met by a very angry angelic figure blocking their way.
After the slaughter stopped, the volunteers, their numbers down to forty-two, trotted back out into the night. On all sides, humans scurried out to retrieve what ammunition they could and to ensure no vampires escaped, before disappearing back into their positions.
******
The Outsider fought his way off a side road and down an old alley. He fired his .45s again and again, the bullets ghosting through dumpsters and the corner of buildings, battering one gibbering ghoul or hissing blood-sucker after another. But the army of horrors pressed on, determined to catch the shadowy man.
The vampires attacked incessantly, driven by an uncanny bloodlust and powers that no ordinary human could withstand. But as the vampires continued to sweep onward, taking on dark, insidious shapes, the Outsider too pressed forward. Seemingly unburdened by human needs, free from human limitations, the lone gunman rolled and vaulted, onto a fire escape and off, over a storage shed, merging within his umbral surroundings and then reappearing in the twilight, his own peculiar madness drove him. Yet his attention was always riveted on his assailants. He continued to strike quickly and slip away, always to goad the vampires in for another strike and another – and each time a few more of the undead were lost.
"C'mon, ya leeches!" he rasped, his guns still blasting. "Let's play a good, old-fashion game of tag."
A wiry man flung himself at the dark vigilante, and while in flight his body shifted into that of a wolf. The Outsider sidestepped the lupine beast, and, his trench coat twirling, crouched to shoot the thing right between its glowing eyes. The wolf dropped, slowly reverted back to human form, then dissolved.
Another vampire, this time a woman, dropped from a nearby roof and clipped the vigilante. Grunting, he caught her clawed hand and pivoted, throwing her aside. Two younger creatures of the night stepped out of the darkness before the Outsider, their tortured faces baring inhuman fangs. The dark avenger plunged himself at them, missing them as they hovered beside him as large, leathery bats.
Hissing, the vampires scrambled, but the Outsider leapt and dodged them. He displaced himself through the shadows, then he reappeared at the top of the alley. Distancing himself from the yowling, gnarled parasites, the Outsider smiled.
"Olly, olly, oxen free," the vigilante mocked.
The vampires screeched and wailed, rushing forward in contempt, and pouring out of the alley after the Outsider. Veering back and forth, the vigilante rushed down the road and hurdled a parked sedan. He launched himself onto the a nearby awning of a barber shop, vaulting himself to the roof a tenement building. But still the vampires came, scaling the walls, clawing their way towards their lone quarry.
Just a few more blocks, leeches, he thought as he fired into their midst yet again. I've got a surprise of my own for you
The dark avenger's pursuers continued to close in on him, paying less attention to their surroundings than they should have. Set to play this deadly fox-hunt game, the Outsider vaulted over another car and rounded a corner, the vampires almost literally breathing down his neck. Like slavering hounds at hunt, the vampires harried the withdrawing vigilante, nipping and slashing at his heels, rushing him now and then, craving to force him off his course. He ran out into the street and saw that it had been blocked off by a wall of debris, overturned vehicles and trash dumpsters. He spun in time to see his pursuers scramble out into the street, howling with glee to find their quarry's escape route closed.
As they advanced toward the Outsider, drawing out the hunt, a tractor-trailer rig pulled out of a nearby alleyway behind the advancing vampires, effectively boxing them in.
The Outsider smiled and said, "Surprise" The barrels of weapons appeared from every window and doorway on the block and opened fire on the unholy congregation of vampires. The few closest to the vigilante charged him.
Holstering his pistols, he drew open his trench coat, revealing a bandolier of pine and oak daggers. As savage as the vampires were, they were met and surpassed by the vigilante's response. No sooner would one vampire go down than another would feel the bite of a wooden shank enter it's chest. One vampire, thinking to escape by slinking off to the shadows in the confusion, realized that its plan wouldn't work when the Outsider stepped from the shadows he sought. The resulting explosion of gore signalled the failure of that plan.
The undead legions' bravado died in their throats as they took in the ambush. They smelled the acrid smoke of their own bodies burning, and heard the wails of their wounded and dying brethren. The civilians of New Orleans fought side by side in a desperate attempt to annihilate the sibilant bloodsuckers, their own numbers dwindling slightly in return. But it was the element of surprise that granted the commoners the upper hand.
With that, the armed civilians were finishing off the last of the vampires when the Outsider noticed movement out of the corner of his eye. Stepping into a shadow, he emerged to find a group of four vampires encouraging a small child, a young girl, to feed on a recently fallen civilian. Four quick gunshots pegged the vampires, and they dropped to the ground as shriveling husks. He walked up to the child. She was crying, obviously frightened, and exhibited recent bite marks on her neck.
Gripping a stake, the Outsider prepared to put an end to the young ghoul before things went too far. He brought the stake up over his head, the deadly point of the wooden instrument looking down at the sobbing girl. The little girl didn't move, just cowered before his looming, overshadowed form. The girl continued to cry. She looked alone, scared. She looked innocent.
Frowning, the vigilante said, "This will hurt just a little bit -- then it'll all be over."
Then he quickly reached inside his trench coat and pulled out a paintball gun. He fired, hitting the girl squarely between the shoulder blades.
"Trinity," the Outsider said through his communicator. "I've got another patient for you."
Seeing that the civilians had things well in hand, the vigilante headed back toward City Hall. He had noticed a large body of vampires advancing in that direction and they'd likely need some help. A few moments later, he stepped out of a shadow on the rooftop of a nearby building. The scene before him was something of a surprise.
The young Brit was standing alone in front of the barricade that had been erected in front of City Hall. There was furious activity behind the barricade as men scrambled to their positions
******
The streets were strangely silent now that the music had stopped. Alex and the other fighters had been fairly successful at keeping the attacking vampires at bay, marking some for transport, destroying the rest. They had even ventured past the barricades and pursued the vampires into the street. Now that the music had stopped, everyone seemed at a loss as to what to do next.
The citizens started moving back toward the safety of the barricades. Alex started backing toward the barricades as well when he noticed something and stopped. The remaining vampires were not following. They made no move to counter attack at all. It seemed as if they were waiting for something. A few moments later, he discovered what was holding them in check.
Walking confidently down the street, escorted by a dozen or more of her inner circle, was Vamp. She moved at a steady pace, managing to cover a lot of ground without seeming to hurry. She stopped about fifty meters away, leapt to the top of an overturned car and looked down at Alex, arms folded across her chest.
Even from this distance, Alex could see her smiling, sharp teeth exposed, both dangerous and alluring all at once.
"It would seem that you've lost your momentum, Youngling," said the leader of the vampires. "One of my minions apparently doesn't share your taste in music. A pity. Despite the lyrics, some of the rhythms are actually reminiscent of a more civilized time. Perhaps we'll have a chance to discuss it at length once you've joined us."
"Not bloody likely." Alex was experiencing a curious mixture of fear and rage.
"Really Alexander! Is that any way to speak to a Lady?" Vamp purred, much in the same way as a jungle cat.
"It's difficult to say, we seem to be a Lady short," replied Alex with a confidence he didn't really feel. Vamp's eyes flashed with outrage.
"Besides, I don't think there is any circumstance where I'd hold such a discussion with a corpse," he continued.
"I think you confidence has far exceeded your abilities, Youngling. I know of your dependence on music. Do you honestly think you can touch me let alone kill me?"
"My only concern here is stopping you. Ending your existence would be a bonus but I'd just as soon leave that to your boss. From what I understand, mercy isn't one of his character traits. How do you think he'll see your failure here?"
"I think you overestimate your chances of success," said Vamp. She gestured slightly and a dozen or so vampires emerged from the surrounding mob -- each of them couldn't have been any older than fifteen before they had been bitten. "I've noticed your attempts to save my newest followers. If you're lucky, you may be able to save one or two more before the rest tear you apart."
Alex was silent. Anger prevented him from finding the words to respond.
"Look around you. Your comrades have retreated to the imagined safety of their barricades. There is not the faintest sound of music in the air. You are alone. Whether you choose to believe it or not, you will not see another dawn."
Alex could hear the sounds of men quickly moving behind the barricades, preparing. Off to his left, for a moment, he thought he “saw” a movement in the shadows but couldn't be sure -- he still didn't fully trust his sonar-like ability.
Alex looked at the line of vampires – children – and looked back at Vamp.
"You seem to be woefully misinformed," he said. Alex let the paintball gun drop to hang at his side by its strap and drew the machetes.
"First, my comrades have not retreated, they have regrouped"
With the flat of the blade, he tapped the treble clef design on the left side of his chest, activating the hidden mp3 player. Then he continued to slowly gesture in an arc in front of him. He could hear the faintest hiss as the recording started to play -- he had inserted the chip labelled "Good, Old-fashioned, Kick-ass Rock 'n' Roll" into the player before he had left New York. The guitar lead-in for a Chuck Berry song, "Johnny B Goode," started playing over the speakers hidden behind his ears.
"Second, there is Music for those who have the ears to hear it" Alex was a little surprised that no one else could hear the song playing, as loud as it seemed to him.
Way down Louisiana
close to New Orleans,
Way back up in the woods among the evergreens...
There stood a log cabin made of earth and
wood,
Where lived a country boy name of Johnny B.
Goode...
He never ever learned to read or write so
well,
But he could play the guitar like ringing
a bell
The scene around him seemed to take on a somewhat surreal quality – as if someone had hit a slow motion button on a video feed. Somehow, everyone seemed to be moving at a snail's pace except for him
...Go, Go,
Go Johnny, Go...
" And finally, I am not alone."
Even his voice seemed a little slowed down in his ears. It was then that he realized what was happening – they weren't slowing down. He was speeding up!
...Go,
Go Johnny, Go
His first inclination was to rush Vamp and relieve her of the burden of her existence, he even took a couple of steps in her direction. Then he considered the consequences of that action. As soon as his actions registered on them, those behind the barricade would open fire with everything they had on anything that moved -- even the "children" that had half surrounded Alex. Vamp's youngest victims would then be beyond help.
With some reluctance, Alex changed his strategy. He let go of the machetes, absently noting that they seemed to hang in the air where he'd left them. He reached once more for the paint ball gun, intending to quickly tag the young vampires. There seemed to be some resistance as he grabbed it, as though it were reluctant to leave the place it was hanging.
Go,
Go Johnny, Go
It occurred to him that he, himself, was the only thing that was being affected by this hyper speed ability. That meant that it would not be able to fire any faster than it would in anyone else's hands. That, in turn, meant that he'd have to change his intended actions again.
Alex tore open the hopper that contained the remainder of his supply of paintballs. Gingerly grabbing a handful, Alex sped toward the line of child-vampires. Their expressions were just beginning to register what was happening as Alex tossed a paintball at each one.
Go,
Go Johnny, Go
As he let go of the last one, Alex headed back toward the barricade, grabbing the machetes out of the air as he passed them. He stopped just in front of the barricade and turned around. Forcing his perceptions to slow, the scene sped up again to normal levels.
With a sound approximating a rapid fire machine gun, the paintballs hit their targets. Each round hit with a wet splat, leaving a bright stain on the chest of each of the vampires. There was also a secondary effect. The momentum that Alex had imparted to each paintball had been sufficient to knock each target off of his feet. Under other circumstances, the sight would have been almost comical.
Go,
Johnny B. Goode
As the last target was knocked back, the scene erupted into chaos. Gunfire sounded as the first of the tagged vampires began to shimmer and vanish. However, it didn't come from behind the barricade as he'd expected, but off to the left. Alex could pick out the form of the Outsider, blasting away at the gathered mass of vampires.
As if it were a signal, those behind the barricade began to fire as well, letting loose with everything they had. In the confusion, Alex had lost sight of Vamp. He was about to try to locate her when he was attacked by a frenzied group of bloodsuckers. His survival instincts kicked in and he abandoned any thought of finding Vamp until the current battle was over. Making use of his enhanced speed, Alex set himself to the task at hand
******
As Jacob flew up to get a better view of the situation, what he saw worried him. It wasn't that throngs of vampires were attacking his force of humans that concerned him -- they were tough and could handle themselves. It wasn't even that it appeared as if most of the remaining vampires had turned away from their assault on City Hall to attack the small force behind them.
No, what worried Jacob was the raven-haired figure that was walking steadily but unhurriedly towards their location. If she made it there, the humans would be slaughtered. There was one hope; to engage Serena -- Vamp -- before her deadly abilities could be employed against them. Besides, there was still some unfinished business between him and Sousa.
Flying down, he landed about ten meters in front of her. She smiled as three vampires leapt at Jacob. Her smile only grew as he dispatched them in a blink of an eye. Others vampires prepared to attack, but she waved them away. This was between her and the winged creature in front of her.
"Do you feel it?" She purred, her arms coming up. "The energy, the flow, the feeling of the future lying within a arms reach. It is... intoxicating, is it not."
"It is death," Jacob replied, his voice harmonizing in two parts.
"No, it is the flowing and birthing of life within the chaos of destruction," Vamp continued, staring at Jacob as she began walking towards him. "You should know that well my angel. You, who have taken part in so many battles, past and present, witnessed so much destruction. What was it all for, except to renew life."
Jacob could hear the ringing of steel, could see out of the mists of the past battles being waged in front of his eyes. Dimly, he heard himself speaking, but not in his own voice. "Life and death, it does not matter to a servant of God. God judges and decrees, I simply act. A creature such as yourself, chained in darkness, cannot hope to understand."
"But I understand well," Vamp whispered, drawing near as Jacob struggled for control over his body. "Your purpose is destruction; God himself has made you so. I am but your counterpart, bringing life out of destruction."
"No," Jacob burst out, "there's more than that."
Vamp was standing directly in front of Jacob now and could see the confusion within him. She smiled. "Very well, I believe I can accept that."
Jacob's had barely anytime to register surprise at her statement before feeling the cold impact of her fist crunching into his stomach. Reflexively doubling over, his face made the perfect target for a fiercely strong upper-cut. He flew unnaturally through the air, slamming into the ground at the end of his flight.
Vamp was on him in an instant, poised to strike again. Just before she struck, Jacob rolled and continued until he was on his feet. A moment later he was dodging another attack aimed at smashing into this nose. He spun from the attack, and aided by flight, jumped back away from Vamp.
As she turned, he spoke through gritted teeth, fighting against the creature inside him. "I don't want to fight you."
Vamp tensed ready to strike Jacob. "Pity, if you would like to lie on the ground then and offer yourself as a sacrifice--"
"Lady Sousa," he interrupted. She stopped, her eyes and lips indicating curiosity. "While you are doing this, what is Autocrat doing?"
Her expression betrayed no emotion, as her training as a noble had taught her. "As you will soon be dead, he is no concern of yours."
"No, but he is to you," Jacob responded.
"How so?" Vamp replied. Did he know something? Had he heard of something she did not?
Jacob saw the opening and hoped it would remain so. Drawing on his knowledge of the history of Western Europe, and the few articles he had read about the Royal Elite, he continued; "Autocrat is part of the nobility as you are. Both of you understand the idea of Absolute Rule well. Maybe it's not unfair to say he's even the living embodiment of Absolute Rule. But where does that put you?"
Now she was intrigued. "Go on."
"You control the undead, can he? Would he be willing to leave you alone, knowing that you were outside of his ultimate control?" Jacob paused. When no response came, he pressed on. "I doubt it. You spoke of an invasion of North America; when that invasion is through, where will he turn to next?"
"So what are you proposing?" She asked, her mind judging every word, waiting for the response she desired.
"Leave here, you have a plausible enough excuse," Jocab offered simply. "Go back to Europe and prepare for the day when his gaze will fall on you and what you control." His throat suddenly felt very dry.
Her eyes narrowed. "If I fail in this, perhaps his eyes will turn towards me. What then?"
"Then your cunning and strength will dissuade him that it is an unprofitable manoeuvre." Jacob's eyes narrowed as well. They were reaching endgame, he could feel it, and somehow he knew exactly what she wanted. He weighed in his mind the lives that it would save this day versus the personal cost it would require in the future.
"Not enough to give up a prize such as the Crescent City."
"Then I give you my oath, in front of you and in front of God, that when the time comes that Autocrat turns his attention towards you..." Jacob swallowed hard and swayed, fighting against the creature within him who wanted to burn out the words Jacob had to say. "I will fight by your side."
"I look forward to that day," Vamp said as she smiled. "And what assurances do you need that I have left this city?"
Staring straight at her, Jacob replied, "None. I will trust you if you say you will leave."
Vamp's smile grew inwardly, as her face returned to her ever present smile. If he would have said anything else, she would have deceived him. She would have left the city only to return when he was gone. But this... She knew he was strong and innocent, now she could see his will and intelligence. He would be perfect.
"Then I and my inner circle will leave New Orleans," Vamp said. She then whispered, "Some of your humans are coming, I can smell their blood." Vamp pointed to a piece of wood lying a few feet away. "Pick up that stake. After all, appearance is everything."
"Right side, close together. Whenever you're ready," Jacob whispered back, picking up the piece of wood. He could hear the sound of running feet, as he and Vamp started to dance and feint with one another. With her back turned to the human audience she simply nodded once.
It would have been such a simple thing to plunge a stake into her heart then and there. He doubted it would have been as easy as it looked. Still, he wondered at the forces within himself that would not allow him to perform such an action.
As the stake plunged slightly off to the right of her chest, Jacob knew he could not betray her trust regardless of who she was. Also, she had allowed him to live and escape when she could have easily killed him. He doubted it was simply because of her kindness, but still. And, finally, the mind that seemed to share his body seemed fiercely unwilling to engage in such an act. Jacob knew why; he had made an oath to God, it was something that could not be ignored.
Vamp fell off the stake, playing her part well. She tumbled backwards and exploded into dust motes as she hit the ground. She was undeniably pleased as she floated away. The battle was uncertain, but with the human vermin putting up so much resistance and added by several metahumans, she had doubts about its outcome. But now, at the sacrifice of several hundred newborns, she had an powerful ally. And, as Jacob had pointed out, a plausible excuse for leaving.
The humans that had seen the end of the fight erupted in screams of joy, as the vampires surrounding them looked at each other in horror before fleeing into the night. On the top of a roof, a golden retriever and a black cat sat observing the scene unfold below.
The dog looked over at the cat. "Just moving in my pieces before the game."
******
A few hours before dawn, as the strongest and oldest vampires mysteriously retreated and disappeared, the vampire attack on New Orleans crumbled. Their leaders gone, the vampires scurried back into the night, pale silhouettes pouring out of the open city along the sides of wolves, vermin and fluttering bats. Hiding in the sewers and abandoned houses, they cowered against the growing light and the feared human patrols they knew would be coming.
******
As the morning came, so did the rain. Jacob had hoped it would be sunny today, thought it would be symbolic of New Orleans coming out of a long night, but perhaps rain was also symbolic. The sun had broken the sky at dawn, and then had been eclipsed by showers. It was midday now, and it didn't look like it was going to let up anytime soon.
Sopping wet, he and two patrols arrived at City Hall and entered, as two more patrols trotted out into the rain to begin their sweep for vampires. He moved along the corridors, looking into the rooms as he passed.
In a couple of the rooms were huddled masses of humans, their faces gaunt, the eyes haunted. He and the patrols had found about fifty to sixty humans in the sewers beneath the Voodoo Temple. The needles and barrels of blood witness to the horrific acts performed there. Piecing together the evidence, it appeared as if the vampires had used these humans as a kind of blood bank. Knowing that their bite infected, the vampires had used needles to draw out the blood, ensuring a constant supply. None of this had been confirmed, as none of the humans rescued had managed to utter a word. After everything that had gone before, people were inclined to give them that space.
In another room, people were sprawled out everywhere. They were sleeping, really sleeping, for the first time in two months.
In yet another room, Delroy and nine others were gathered. The man chanting had been frantically searching for people earlier in order to make a minyan. After ten Jews were found, the man proceeded to say the kaddish, the prayer for the dead, for his son. He had found him in the night, only to loose him again in a flurry of stakes. Jacob wondered how many more kaddish would be said before all was said and done.
He heard music coming from the room he was searching for and entered. He might have paused and stopped to listen on another day, but his mind was too numb to register it as anything but a beautiful song that came from a world far better than this one.
"Hey Alex," Jacob said, moving to a table and pouring himself some coffee. Drinking some of the caffeine-laden elixir, he asked, "How's the transfusion center going? Taking a break from it?"
Alex looked up at Jacob from where he sat. The angelic figure was dripping water on the floor and drinking coffee out of a styrofoam cup. He smiled briefly at the incongruity. He answered while continuing to play the guitar.
"Everything is going fairly well, I think. Trinity has remarkable organizational skills. She said she'd made a few adjustments to the transfusion process and is hopeful that the success rate will be improved. Most of the transfusions are done, and we're now at the 'wait and see' stage."
"How is the search progressing for stragglers?"
"Very tiring," Jacob replied, rubbing the cup's edge with his index finger. "You know, without Serena, Vamp, I thought it would be easier; offer them a choice for the future. But, they're virtually impaling themselves on our stakes. Without her around, when we find them, it's like they've gone mad."
Changing the subject, Jacob asked, "Have you been able to contact anyone in New York?"
Alex frowned slightly, his face clouding slightly. "No. Sarah and I have been playing phone tag for the last week or so. I suppose it would be best if it waited until after the holidays anyway."
"It would be better if you spoke to someone sooner rather than later," offered Jacob, trying not to sound as if he were forcing the issue.
"There's someone I can speak to in London," Alex said with the faintest catch in his throat. "I'm actually long overdue for a visit to him anyway."
Alex was quiet for a few moments and concentrated on playing. Again, Jacob didn't recognize the tune yet there was still something familiar about it. This time the music seemed to have more of a mourning quality, almost reminiscent of the Blues. It spoke of Loss and Tragedy but also contained a feeling of Hope, a determination to Live on and not let the Loss be in vain.
Alex finished playing and laid the guitar back in it's case.
"I should find Gus and return this to him," he said. Turning to Jacob, he asked, "What about you? Do you have any plans for the immediate future?"
"I'll be staying in New Orleans for awhile, to help rebuild what was shattered," Jacob said, looking down at his coffee. Looking down into the blackness of the coffee he thought he could just catch the barest glimpse of a sparkling city on the Mississippi reborn. Continuing, he added, "I was with them almost since the beginning, I can't abandon them now, not when the most difficult part is about to begin. Destruction is easy enough, it's creation that takes time."
Each man paused in their own silent world for a moment, their thoughts their own. Alex lifted up the guitar case and started towards the door, as Jacob sipped at the coffee and moved to follow suit.
"Are you headed back to the transfusion center?" Jacob asked.
Alex nodded. "I thought I'd go and lend a hand where I could."
"I'll go with you," Jacob said, looking at the back of the young man. "I need to talk to Trinity anyway."
Alex nodded and continued out the door. On the way out of the building, Alex spoke to the winged man beside him.
"It's too bad the bodies disintegrate when they die. I think I'd have preferred to see her put down than to have heard about it. Do you think Vamp is really gone this time?"
"She's one of the undead, which by definition means she's escaped death at least once. No, I don't think I'll ever truly believe she's truly dead." Jacob answered simply. "So, when are you planning on heading back to New York?"
"I have a flight to London to catch in three days," said Alex. "I'd like to make it if possible"
******
The Trinity and about a dozen National Guard medics were still working on the last fifty or so victims. Early projections based on the transfusions they had already completed estimated they would achieve about a sixty-five to seventy percent success rate. Maybe higher if everything continued going well.
Alex entered the temporary structure that had been erected on the outskirts of town and one of the Trinity put him to work restraining the last few patients. Jacob entered a moment later. After asking, Jacob located the original Trinity and walked towards her. He needed to talk.
"Hello Jacob, come to lend a hand?" Trinity asked, moving between patients.
"Possibly, a little later perhaps," Jacob replied. "How are they doing?"
Trinity turned and looked at Jacob, their eyes meeting. "I think you know the answer to that. After all, you've done this before. They might be cured, but they're a long way from recovery."
"And there's still a long road ahead -- a painful road," Jacob said absently.
"You're not going to tell Alex?" Trinity asked, not needing to complete the question. She guessed what he would say, and accepted his answer, even supported it in a way.
"He tried to give them life, now it's up to us to help them want to live that life." Jacob said softly, his eyes suddenly filled with the images of the eight that he had tried to save, "I lost so many before... "
"I know", she interjected. "I talked to Delroy."
"Then you know why I don't want Alex to be here," Jacob said, their eyes meeting again, understanding flowing between them. "He's given so much of himself already. To lose them, one by one, as they can't come to grips with the life they've been offered, it tears at your heart. And even those that survive, that choose to survive, the road ahead of them is anything but easy. Different of them will have to go to orphanages, learn that their families are dead, or even struggle to find their families. I've already gone through all this, I don't want Alex to."
"You don't think he could handle it?"
"No, I know he could," Jacob replied, thinking about the courage the young man had already shown. "But he's already lost enough of his innocence here. He came to New Orleans to help me and its people, now I'd like to help him.
******
Alex had spent the rest of the day helping with the transfusion patients before being sent out for a break. He had thought to get a little sleep but found that sleep did not come easily. What little sleep he did get was plagued by dreams. The faces of the vampires he had chosen not to save kept staring at him from every direction he turned, Tommy Wilkinson being the first among them. All of them asking the same question: Why couldn't you save me as well?
He ended up taking a walk around the outskirts of town. He walked for quite awhile before he noticed his reflection in a window and realized that he was still wearing his costume. He decided that the time was well past for him to change into some decent clothing. Stopping by City Hall, he retrieved the bag he'd brought with him from New York and went in search of a shower. Ultimately he found one at one of the hotels that were being used as temporary shelter.
Alex peeled the costume from his body and let it fall to the floor in a heap. Turning on the water, he stepped into the shower, not bothering to wait for the water to heat up. He stood under the water, letting it run over his tired and aching frame. Despite the fact that he had been 'pumped up' by the music, he hadn't escaped completely unharmed.
Alex noted that there were a fairly large number of bruises of varying size dotting his body. There were also a good number of welts made by the claws of the vampires. His costume, for he now thought of it as such rather than as something borrowed, had indeed provided a degree of protection that had made a difference. He would have to remember to get Xavier a sizeable gift by way of a thank you.
Alex stood under the water long after he was clean, hoping that, somehow, the water would also wash away some of the guilt he was feeling. How many more of Vamp's victims could he have saved if he'd tried a little harder or pushed for more help from Jacob and the Outsider? He stood under the water, plagued with self-doubts, 'what-ifs' and second thoughts wanting to wash them all away. Finally, he admitted to himself that they wouldn't wash away and turned off the water. He stepped out of the shower and dried off.
He shaved, combed his hair and put on the change of clothes that he had brought. He stared at the costume lying on the floor. Picking it up, he began to roughly shove it into his bag. He stopped as he noticed a drop of water hit the treble clef design on the front of the costume. With a trembling hand, he wiped it away then carefully rolled up the costume before placing it in his bag. He felt another drop of water hit the back of his hand and realized that it had dripped off of his face. For some reason, his vision was blurry and he had a little difficulty finding the towel.
Should have dried off better, he thought.
He brought the towel to his face to wipe the water from his eyes and kept it there as the sobs shuddered through his body.
******
Late the next morning, Alex made his way back to City Hall where he found Jacob and Trinity. There had been some talk of Alex transporting directly to London but he had decided to go back to New York. He had decided that the flight from New York to London would give him time to get a handle on the events of the last few days.
They said there goodbyes there; Trinity offering a hug and getting assurances that if Alex was attacked by the Royal Elite again, he would contact the Protectorate immediately. She gave him a number for a direct line to call should the need arise. Jacob offered a firm handshake and repeated again that he should talk to someone about what had happened in New Orleans. Of the Outsider, there was no sign.
Alex stepped out to a clear area in front of the building and nodded to Trinity. As she signalled the Monolith, he had an odd feeling that someone was watching him. It wasn't a threatening feeling, in fact, it almost felt like someone was watching over him as he left. He turned around, but could see nothing. The scene before him shimmered slightly. As he had before, he heard the incredibly complex and brief Music. 'The Song of Transport,' he thought, wondering what made him call it that. As the sound faded, he found himself standing on the sidewalk in front of the U.N. plaza.
In amongst the shadows, crouched on the cornice of a neighboring building, a dark, brooding man in a trench coat and fedora watched as Alex disappeared from sight. "Catch ya on the flipside, kid," the man rasped. And then, just like that, he vanished in the twilight.
******
Jacob stood on the top of the Voodoo Temple building as night fell. It had been five days since the final battle. Most of the vampires had been cleaned out of their underground locations and people began making plans to move back into their old houses. That it was the Christmas season, had largely been ignored. Still, there was hope for the future in the eyes and hearts of the people who lived here and because of that, the city would be rebuilt.
Jacob let his mind wander over the events of the last two months; the choices and decisions, actions and inactions. But a single question kept reappearing in his mind: where was God in all this death and destruction? The voice that shared his body kept telling him that God was there in New Orleans, suffering beside the victims. A question the voice could not answer well was why had God allowed there to be victims at all. The reply that it was part of God's plan or part of God's wisdom, seemed only to burn the victims a second time.
He let a sigh go out to the world and posed his question to the heavens. They were silent. He looked back down at the streets below. They were empty, and he guessed it would be a long while before people came down here again, the former seat of vampiric power in the city.
In one of the alleys a figured moved forward, into the light of street lamps. She looked more gaunt than Jacob had remembered her, as if she hadn't eaten in days or even weeks. There was a light of pain burning in her beautiful green eyes. A part of him wanted to comfort her, another part wanted to simply strike out at the vampire; he did neither.
Looking up at Jacob, Teresa mouthed simply, "Thank you."
A smile crept across Jacob's face as he nodded once and turned away. Teresa disappeared back into the darkness.
A black cat and golden retriever stared out at the scene. The dog looked down at the cat. "And what was that exactly?"
The cat replied, a Cheshire smile creeping across
her delicate features, "The game won't be postponed forever. Like you,
I'm merely moving my pieces into position."
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