Bloodsuckers

Maurice brushed the tiny shards of glass off his forearms. It was hard to see in the waning light how badly he was bleeding.

"You should wrap that up."

"Yeah, no shit." Maurice grimaced as he began tightly binding his wounds.

"You think we killed it?" I gazed back up at the second floor window we'd just crashed through.

"Hell if I know." Maurice glanced at me, his stern face augmented by a lengthy scar that ran down his cheek and neck. "Either way, we're lucky there's still some sun left." He tied off his bandage with a grunt and bent down to pick up his crossbow.

"We should get back."

"No. We've got time. Let's get the head." Maurice tugged back his crossbow string and loaded a bolt.

"Maurice, we don't even know if it's dead." I gripped my sword handle tightly, eyeing the sinking sun.

"Suck it up, buttercup." He marched back to the front door of the vacated apartment building. "If it's not dead, it will be soon."

"We're not supposed to be out this late." We were easily three miles from base camp, with barely enough sun left

to make it back jogging.

Maurice stepped over to where I was standing with a startling quickness, grabbing me by the scruff of my jacket, "We're getting that bloodsucker's head whether you like it or not. The sooner we collect it, the sooner we go home. So quit pussyfooting around and get in there!"

He heaved me towards the entrance of the building.

"Ok! Geez." I switched on my angle head flashlight which sagged from my breast pocket.

"And draw your weapon." Maurice switched his crossbow light on and pushed past me, muttering something vulgar under his breath.

My katana slid quietly out of its sheath as I followed Maurice into the building. The peeling wallpaper and splintered doors looked much different than when we had begun our sweep hours earlier. Our lights bounced shadows violently across furniture as we cleared each apartment again, room by room.

Maurice threw up hand signals often as I trailed behind him, pointing vigorously at doorways or making clenched fists in the air.

I tried my best to freeze where I was or scamper over to where I thought he wanted me, often to the dismayed grunts of my companion who more forcefully recreated the gestures.

"Shouldn't we check upstairs?" I whispered. My palms were sweaty, slick against the synthetic grip on my sword.

Maurice mouthed something angrily at me that I couldn't quite make out in the dark, something about being quiet.

I tried to swallow the lump in my throat. I missed the quiet of my old job. Distributing canned food rations wasn't really fun, but at least it was safe. Boring, I had called it. Now look at me.

"Oh, sor-" I walked into Maurice who had stopped and was making the fist-signal again.

"Pay attention." Maurice hissed, shoving me back. "You trying to get eighty-sixed on your first run? Quit day dreaming. This thing could be anywhere."

"I thought you shot it already though." I hadn't seen anything, just heard Maurice fire his crossbow then shout as he tackled me through the window into the safety of sunlight. "Why don't we just check upstairs?"

Almost as if on cue, a loud thump came from the floor above us.

Maurice glared at me for a moment before moving to the base of the stairs, his crossbow aimed at the first landing.

"Keep your head on a swivel and watch my ass." Maurice began stepping up the stairs, turning to face the second floor landing.

I tried to imitate his tactical stair ascent. My flashlight swayed back and forth from my chest pocket as I climbed, providing no real illumination where it mattered. I gripped my sword tighter.

"There it is!" Maurice fired, but judging by the loud thump that came from down the hallway, he missed. Without hesitating, he tossed his crossbow aside, pulled a long wooden stake from his belt, and charged down the dark hall shouting, "C'mon!"

"Ok, I'm coming!" I clumsily scampered up the last few steps and ran after Maurice, who was already banking hard into one of the abandoned apartments with his stake raised.

The flashlight on Maurice's discarded crossbow lit up the hallway enough for me to avoid tripping. My heart was pounding as I approached the door.

I half-turned half-jumped into the doorway, katana at the ready. There was nothing. I had expected to see Maurice holding the vampire's head, something I was very curious to finally see. I listened for a moment. Nothing.

"Maurice?" I hadn't meant to, but it came out as a whisper and sent chills down my spine. "Maurice, are you there?" I stepped into the room slowly, my sweaty hands sliding along my sword handle.

This apartment was much like the one's we'd been clearing all day before Maurice plunged us out of the window--a main entrance room, with doors on either side leading to the kitchen and bedroom.

I shakily grabbed my light with one hand and pointed it at the kitchen door. Closed. Then the bedroom door. I froze. There was a mess of blood painting the door and tile leading into the black room. "Maurice? Let me know if you're in there." My voice trembled, or perhaps it only seemed to as it left my trembling body. Suddenly, a crouched emaciated creature, like nothing I'd ever imagined, emerged from the dark bedroom. It looked ragged, with sagging skin and patches of long wispy hair covering its head. Its face was drenched in dark blood. It peered up at me, appearing almost frightened, before receding back into the darkness. I dropped my sword. I ran. Cameron Filas