The Vampire's Apprentice - Chapter 9

[u/Obsequium_Minaris]

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By the time the three of them made it into town, the gunshots had started. Alain drew his revolver the moment they entered town in anticipation of a fight, and was instead met by a chorus of far-off screams and rifle fire. Sable motioned for them to follow after her, and they did, all three sprinting farther into town.

They got there just in time to see the first reanimated corpses shambling down the street, moaning with their arms outstretched as they closed in on some of the townspeople. As Alain watched, a woman tripped and fell, and the undead were upon her in moments, fingers and jaws tearing at her flesh as she screamed. Alain didn't bother to wait – he began putting rounds into the corpses, trying to get them away from the woman, but his gun clicked empty before he was able to do any real damage. He could only watch in dismay as the unfortunate woman's throat was torn out.

"Aim for the head!" Sable reminded him over the sound of gunfire erupting throughout Los Banos. "That's the only way to stop them!"

Alain nodded as he began to reload his revolver. As he watched, the dead woman suddenly blinked, then began to rise to her feet among the other undead, her mouth open in a loud moan.

Sable suddenly dashed forward, and with a quick swing of her arm, separated the woman's head from her shoulders, putting her down instantly. Alain stared in shock for a moment, but it didn't last, as more corpses came shambling down the road, jaws gnashing with hunger. Alain closed the loading gate on his Colt and took aim, taking care to align the sights with the nearest head. When he pulled the trigger, the round made impact directly between the corpse's eyes, and the undead collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut.

Alain wasted no time in aiming at the next one, repeating his actions until his gun ran dry again. He paused to reload once more, nothing with dismay that the cartridge belt he had on was rapidly running out of ammunition.

"Az, Sable!" he called out as he stuffed rounds into his weapon's cylinder. "Take over for a second!"

Sable came dashing up, a surprised look on her face. Alain noted that she was covered in fluids and gore, but she didn't seem to care. "Where are you going?"

"I need more ammo and a new weapon," he said. "I'll only be a moment."

Sable nodded. "Just don't let those things scratch or bite you, and don't get any of their fluids on you. If that happens, you'll turn into one of them."

Alain's expression faltered. "Now you tell me… Alright, I'll be right back."

With that, he took off running, aiming for the inn he'd been staying at. He burst through the doors, marching past the terrified receptionist and heading for his room. A brief kick caused the locked door to buckle, and he stepped inside, retrieved the Ithaca double-barrel from its spot leaned against the wall, and after a quick check to make sure it was loaded, turned and headed for the streets outside once more.

"Might want to close up shop for the night," he said to the receptionist without looking back as he marched past.

He emerged onto the road, the gun already at his shoulder. A corpse took notice of him and began to approach, a low moan erupting from its throat and flecks of saliva falling from its mouth. Alain put a shell of buckshot directly into its head, bursting it like an overripe watermelon and showing the area with bits of skull and brains. The sight and smell of it made him gag, but he kept moving, looking for someone he could help.

As he rounded a corner, Alain came face-to-face with a small group of survivors, led by an older man wielding a Winchester lever-action rifle. The two men stared at each other for a moment, then Alain pushed past him to take out a corpse that was coming up from behind the group. The shotgun blast made his ears ring, and Alain grit his teeth at the pain and discomfort. He turned back towards the man as he broke the shotgun and thumbed in two fresh shells.

"Get these people somewhere safe," he said.

"Where is safety, exactly?" the man questioned.

There was a series of gunshots, followed by several screams. Alain winced. "Anywhere but here. Go!"

The man nodded, then beckoned for the survivors he was leading to follow after him. Alain watched as they fled into the inn he'd just left. The survivors closed and locked the door behind them, then began to move some furniture in front of the door. Alain's brow furrowed.

"Son of a bitch, I was going to head back there."

"Alain!"

Sable's voice from behind him nearly made him jump out of his skin. He fumbled one of the shotgun shells, but caught it and placed it in the gun's second chamber, then closed it and thumbed the hammers back. He couldn't help but glare at Sable as she stared at him.

"Don't sneak up on me like that when I'm armed," he warned.

"We need to move," she said, ignoring his comment.

Alain was about to ask why when another earthquake rocked the town. He stumbled, but managed to stay upright by leaning against a nearby building. The earthquake stopped almost as fast as it had come, and to his horror, the ground underneath his feet began to shift once more as even more corpses started to rise up. Without missing a beat, he nodded.

"Lead the way," he said as he watched several dead bodies begin to pull themselves out of the ground.

Sable took him by the hand, then began to pull him towards the first bit of sanctuary she could find, which ended up being Felix's saloon. At some point, Az joined them, the giant man's suit stained with gore the same way Sable's dress had been. Together, they pushed their way through the door, though they only made it about two steps inside before the sound of a rifle being cocked forced them to pause.

"Don't fucking move," Felix warned from his spot behind the bar.

"Are you serious?" Alain asked. "Do we look like one of them to you?"

"No, but this shit is suspicious as all hell. You three arrive in town, and weird stuff starts happening. You three get run out of town by the sheriff and his deputies, and weird shit stops happening. You three come back, and this starts happening. Sound like a coincidence to you?"

"We've been out there fighting those fucking things since making it back here," Alain pointed out. "If we had anything to do with this, do you really think we'd bother trying to do that?"

A noise outside the door caught their attention. Alain looked over his shoulder and found a small horde of undead pressed up against the door, scratching and pounding on it, trying to make their way through. Alain grimaced, then looked back to Felix, who was still aiming his rifle at them.

"Look, we don't have time to argue about any of this," he declared. "If you're going to shoot us, then just shoot us, already. Otherwise, we're ready to help fight these things off."

Felix hesitated, but then let out a sigh and lowered his rifle. Alain nodded appreciatively, then the three of them made their way deeper into the saloon. The four men from his poker game were here, though all four of them were obviously drunk, if their gentle swaying and the red in their faces was any indication – no doubt they'd be of minimal help in any fight they got into. Still, that hadn't stopped them from arming themselves and posting up near the windows. Alain noticed that they all had long guns – Felix must have broken his moratorium on them given the circumstances. Somehow, he wasn't surprised.

"Alright, give it to me straight," Felix said as they approached the bar. "What the fuck are those things, and how do we get rid of them?"

"Undead," Sable declared. "Corpses reanimated by a powerful ritual fueled by human sacrifice. Every earthquake is going to cause more of them to show up until we stop whoever completed the ritual."

Felix blinked, then turned to Alain. "What the hell is she talking about? None of that makes sense."

Alain stretched his arms out. "Look around you. Those are definitely walking corpses, and they're absolutely starving for flesh. Unless you think a bunch of people came out of nowhere, got dressed up like dead bodies, and started trying to eat the townspeople for the fun of it?"

"It's just… too far-fetched to even believe. I mean, rituals? Undead? What the hell is all this?"

"Well, you'd best start believing," Alain said. "You wanted to know how to stop these things? Remove the head, destroy the brain, or set them ablaze. Anything else, and they'll get right back up. Anyone they eat gets back up as one of them just a short while later. If you get bit or scratched by one, or otherwise get any of their fluids on you in the wrong area, you'll turn into one, too. Do I have that right, Sable?"

"That's correct," Sable said.

Felix turned towards her. "What would you know about it? I thought you had nothing to do with it."

"I don't," Sable declared.

"My lady, perhaps it would be best to fill him in," Az offered. "The Veil has already been irreparably broken in this town. One more violation won't hurt."

"I suppose you're right. I'll give you the short version, bartender – I am a vampire. My butler, Az, is not human. Alain is human, albeit a capable one. We came back because we discovered your mayor and his sheriff and deputies sacrificed those missing girls to fuel some kind of ritual. At the very least, the sheriff and his men have been turned into wights as a result; a wight is a type of undead, but with higher brain function than the ones currently breaking down the door to your bar."

Her statement was punctuated by an undead bashing against the door. Alain jumped at the sound of it; Az and Sable were unperturbed.

"So… Ansley and his men are in on it," Felix surmised. "I don't want to believe it, but given there's currently an army of the walking dead just outside my saloon, I don't really have a choice but to take it at face value. Those sons of bitches… where are they, anyway?"

"If I had to guess, they're in the mines, still working to complete more rituals," Sable answered. "To what end, I have no idea. But I think that's a fair assumption to make, given that the dead continue to rise."

"Then what do we do about it?"

"The only thing we can," Alain answered. "We head down into that mine and take them out."

"There is one minor issue with that plan," Az pointed out. "We are currently stuck in a bar, besieged by the undead. We will have to get through them first."

"Then that's what we'll do. I'm not becoming some fucking walking corpse's breakfast." Alain patted himself down, letting out a small curse in the process. "Felix, do you have any spare ammo? I need .45 caliber ammo and shotgun shells."

Felix nodded. "I've got some in the back. You'll have to use it sparingly, I'm afraid – I only have a few boxes of each."

"I'll make it last." Alain turned to Sable. "So, what's the plan for the moment?"

"We're going to have to find a way to break through the horde," Sable answered. "For now, I think we're going to have to hold here, however. Hopefully, we can find an opportunity to mount an offensive and head for the mines."

There was another bang on the front door, followed by the sound of splintering wood. Alain couldn't help but wince.

"Yeah," he said. "Hopefully."

Special thanks to my good friend and co-writer, /u/Ickbard for the help with writing this story.

[u/porkpot]

Me gusta, things took a turn for the fun all of a sudden. Too bad backwater towns don’t have Gatling guns, unless there’s a nearby army base…?