Jake's Story (apocalypse cultivation), ch 32

Folks, this chapter took me a while, but I'm damn proud of it.  Whew.

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Jake ran through the mall.  He killed two more Protectors and was not exactly subtle about it.  He even shot one of them with a pistol he’d pulled from his storage ring.  In his past life, he’d never been lucky enough to own a H&K Mark 23.  It was nice to have one now, but he was also amused by the fact he’d needed to literally die first.

He rounded a corner and two Protectors saw him the moment he saw them.  One of them had a rifle.  Jake only caught a glimpse, but it looked like an FAL or something.  Felt like it, too.  When a bullet struck his protection field, it felt like he was getting hit by a huge pillow with a wadded up ball of socks inside.

The Protectors’ radios chattered as Jake flash stepped towards them, and one managed to rattle off a code into his mic before they were both down.  Jake didn’t mind, though.  The entire point of this frontal assault was to sew confusion and panic.

He didn’t waste any time when he reached the fortified area leading to the Protectors’ makeshift barracks.  Now it was time to make some fire.  He waved a hand and splashed the wooden walls with dozens of gallons of gasoline that he’d “borrowed” from the Post Apoc Kings.  With the gas in place, he didn’t even waste any spiritual energy to light it on fire.  He just used a lighter.

The gasoline whooshed into flame as a door opened and two more Protectors ran out.  They immediately started to shout an alarm, and Jake heard yelling through the open door, too.  He flash-stepped away down the hallway, leveled a hand, and built a simple, but concentrated Demonic Contradiction Wave.  Jake compressed the energy, layering it and folding it.

When he delivered the attack, it hit like a train.  The destruction looked like a wrecking ball had crashed through all the plywood barriers.  Flames from the fire Jake had started blew through the hole along with most of the remaining gasoline.  Screams rang from inside.  The hallway was suddenly flooded with much more light as lanterns in the Protectors’ barracks reached the rest of the mall.  Firearms barked and bullets whined through the air as the cultists fired blindly in Jake’s general direction.

He faded back into a shadow, took a few seconds to prepare another powerful Demonic Contradiction Wave, and sent the attack deep into the heart of the Macon Protectors base.

The cacophony was satisfying as was the way Protectors came boiling forward like angry ants.  Flames blocked most of them from getting any further, but a few had fire extinguishers.

Jake leveled his pistol and emptied the magazine.  He didn’t need to hit anything, just keep the enemies’ heads down and make a lot of noise.  Then he faded around the corner, dumped a few gallons of gasoline, and lit it on fire, too.

That done, he flash stepped in the opposite direction, approaching the refugees’ area.  He wasn’t sure if he would be able to convince them that the Protectors were the bad guys, or even talk to them at all, but he figured it was worth a shot.  If worse came to worst, he could definitely still scare them out of the mall.

Jake phased right into the department store, got on top of a makeup counter sporting some looted product stands, and shouted, “Humans!  Hear me!  Pay attention!”

Dead silence rang for several seconds.  Multiple eyes stared at Jake over slack mouths.  The spell was broken as a woman screamed, and one of the Protectors came running out of a changing room area.  “Everyone get down!” he shouted, and shot at Jake.

The panicking Protector had terrible aim.  Jake would have been completely unharmed even without his defensive field, but two refugees were hit by stray bullets.  This was not what he’d intended, and he felt the nausea of guilt bubble up in his stomach.  Jake growled and pointed his freshly reloaded MK23, firing four rounds.  One missed, one hit the man in the shoulder, one in the hip, and the other winged him in the neck.  He went down with a hand on the side of his throat.

All of the refugees screamed and ran away as fast as possible.  “That went even worse than I was afraid it might,” Jake muttered.  In hindsight, coming here hadn’t been the greatest decision, at least not for someone with a conscience.  But for creating chaos, it might have been perfect.  He kicked one of the .45 ACP shells off of the makeup counter in frustration.  Scaring the hell out of the refugees had made him feel dirty.  He would have rather they’d listened to him, but that was logically a long shot from the get-go with how he looked now.  Maybe it was for the best, though.  Most people weren’t warriors, not really.

It was a shame the asshole Protector had hit two innocents, though.  Fuckers.

He hopped down from the counter and took the radio from the wounded Protector.  The beefy man was much more interested in keeping his liquids inside his body than attacking Jake now.  “Where is your partner,” asked Jake.  “Most of you people move in buddy teams, right?”

The downed man choked and coughed.  But when Jake kicked him in the leg, the wounded Protector pointed vaguely outside, then held his hand out in the universal gesture for mercy.  Maybe before Jake had seen the murdered old woman a few minutes ago, or couldn’t hear the wounded refugees groaning and crying behind him, it might have been different, but he didn’t have any mercy left for these people.  He leveled his pistol and put a .45 round through the man’s forehead.

Blood and brains splattered all over what used to be a display of designer handbags.

Time to go, he thought.

Phasing and flash stepping outside didn’t take long.  He took a moment to get his bearings.  The sound of gunshots seemed to ring out everywhere.  Smoke was rising from the mall. The refugees he could see were either running, or cowering, or packing up what little belongings they had, preparing to flee.

It was a good thing that Macon had been mostly free of monsters, or they would have been everywhere by now, too.  Of course, that was about to change as the Protectors’ pet vampires ran amok.

Jake remembered what Vincent had said about the mysterious figure destroying cover for the Warhounds.  Maybe he could throw some power around too.

A Macon Protectors truck was driving outside the distant barrier made of cars.  Jake leapt straight up, far higher than a human could, and took advantage of the Deep Heavens Solistic Midnight Cloak’s floating effect.  It gave him  a higher vantage point and a stable platform.

He gathered a Demonic Contradiction Wave, aimed, and let loose.

The truck’s windows all shattered at once.  One side of the vehicle was crumpled inward like it’d been punched by a giant.  It rocked to one side before veering off and slamming into a tree.  Blood covered the interior.  The driver and passenger were screaming, covered in injuries from the explosion and destroyed glass.

He decided not to finish them off.  It was probably actually a good idea to wound a few protectors instead of just killing them.  They made for a bigger distraction and caused more noise.

Jake moved like a silhouette of flowing night through the pre-dawn darkness, taking any clear shots he could find.  By moving and shooting, he effectively ground the Macon Protectors’ mobilization to a halt.  Occasionally they would shoot at where he’d just been, and sometimes the refugees were unfortunate casualties.  Jake felt the guilt grow in the pit of his stomach, but there wasn’t anything he could do about it other than hope the wounded would survive.  All he could do was continue on this path, trying to stop these cultists assholes and save as many people as possible.  His goal was still revenge.  Stopping Georgia from becoming like Mexico in his first life was partially motivated by spite, but he couldn’t deny the fury that these assholes were trying to bring hell to his home state.

And he knew his family would be ashamed of him if he didn’t do everything in his power to help people.  It was one of the reasons he’d become an adventurer in his first life, that knowledge.  And he’d wanted to fight back, to at least bloody the eye of the evil that had come to earth.

Jake missed most of his running shots and he even took a few hits that his defensive field shrugged off.  But he succeeded in spreading terror and confusion as he headed towards the sounds of distant fighting and greater mayhem.

***

Vincent Jones was facing the reality that he was probably going to die within the next few minutes.  He hadn’t ordered the actual attack on the college, but he should have known better than to think the others would wait.  What they’d found...the bodies...it’d been enough to make most of them throw up.  Everyone who’d seen what the Protectors had been transported had been filled with revulsion, anger, and dismay.

The Warhounds were a new group with similar interests, banding together for security.  He’d forgotten that they weren’t soldiers and it might have cost everyone everything.

The radio crackled and an unfamiliar voice, maybe one of the Post Apoc Kings, hollered, “They’re fucking everywhere!  We’re not gonna make it!”

Vince keyed his mic and snarled, “Clear the fucking radio!  Keep the line open for leaders and direction, over.  Focus on staying alive and getting to the rendezvous point.  We need to form a defensive position!”

“Roger!”  The radio clicked several more times as others silently acknowledged the order.

The entire convoy had scattered.  Hopefully everyone was heading toward the rendezvous point.  Vince had run over a vampire and gone the opposite direction, drawing some of them after him.  His route had been longer, trying to draw some of the bastards away from his people.

He’d already ordered everyone on the convoy channel not to head back to their bases or they might have monsters follow them home.  Besides, most of the gun hands were here.  The only way to survive this would be to fight through it.

But plenty of people were already dead, including Warhounds members.  The vehicle that had been blasting music was gone.  Vince had ordered everyone to play music in their car if they could.

And as Vincent sped through the darkness, headlights set to high beams, radio playing the mix CD he’d had in the jeep, he caught sight of unfamiliar vehicles right before shots rang out.  His back window shattered.

He recognized one of the SUVs.

He grabbed the radio as he gunned the engine.  “All elements, this is Warhounds One.  Be advised I am being engaged by Screaming Demons.  Positive ID.  Keep an eye on your six, over.”

After giving the warning, Vince swerved and put every ounce of attention he had into driving.  Earlier he’d enjoyed being alone in the jeep, but now he would have killed to have a passenger to return fire.

If not for the dead cars and other obstacles in the roads, Vince would have probably already been shot.  In movies, cars stopped bullets.  In real life, not so much.  One round through the back of his jeep might be lights out.  But the chasing vehicles couldn’t seem to get a good angle.

He thought he caught rapid movement in the darkness to one side and his stomach dropped.  There were vampires everywhere now and the bastards could move fast.  He’d taken a loop, but the fact they’d gotten this far already was terrifying.  At least traveling this direcion meant they were heading away from the rendezvous point, though.

Dozens, maybe hundreds of vampires had come boiling out of the college only minutes ago.  They’d all pounced, screeching for blood.  If not for the fact that a good number of the Warhounds and their allies had still been mounted in vehicles, everyone likely would have died.

And that was before the figure in the robe had begun throwing around powerful magic.

Vince was on a straight stretch of road now, so he floored his jeep, trying to open up distance.  What was left of a Walmart was to the right.  The half-burned building flashed by before he swerved, taking a turn a little too sharp, trying to head back to the main highway.  Like before, the debris and crashed vehicles all over the place were obstacles, but also provided cover.

The grocery store shopping center was close to the Macon Mall, only just down the street from the Protectors’ headquarters.  The Warhounds weren’t trying to hide, there was no running away from this.  This was a battle.  If they retreated now, the Protectors would likely come with numbers to crush them.

He’d rejected the idea of running again for the same reason he had earlier.  The first time he’d made the decision, it’d been before he’d seen with his own eyes that the Grim had been telling the truth about the Protectors.  As unlikely as it’d seemed, this was reality--the Protectors were the bad guys, the worst kind.  And if Jake had been right about that, he was probably right about Macon being ground zero for the end of Georgia.

If Georgia fell, the entire Eastern half of the United States would become monster central, too.  Vince would not be able to protect his family if that happened, no matter if they escaped the state or how lucky they were.  Luckily, the other Warhounds, the Night Rangers, and the Post Apoc Kings all seemed to be on the same page about this.  They were all scared shitless, but had also accepted that running away wasn’t an option.

Being told about the second end of the world by a demonic-looking thing with glowing blue eyes that casually ripped apart ghouls had been...convincing.  Jake could have killed them all but had been helping.  Whatever he was, he was on their side.  Hopefully he’d get his scary-looking ass to the grocery store so the Warhounds would have their trump card.

This was do or die.  Vince hoped to Christ he was not the only one left alive.  He also hoped the guys who’d started attacking earlier against orders were still alive so he could punch them in the face.

He finally hit the highway and willed his old jeep to haul ass.  Behind him and ahead he could see the muzzle flashes of weapons firing in the dark.  It looked like some home owners that had been hiding were out there now, maybe attacked by vampires.  The entire area was a mess.  Cars and trucks’ headlights were zig-zagging around both sides of the road, maybe Warhounds who were escaping and trying to reposition like Vince was.  He hoped.

Headlights from the pursuing Screaming Demons cut across the highway as he was about to turn left to head to the shopping center, but he saw a dozen shining pairs of eyes.  The street was swarmed with monsters.  “Fuck!”  He cut the wheel hard to the right as he braked and dropped the jeep into a lower gear.  Then he gunned it across the median, back to the highway.

Gunshots rang behind him, and he checked his mirrors, trying to spot the monsters he’d seen.  He didn’t think they could run fast enough to catch him, but he didn’t want to make any assumptions.  He hadn’t been sure if what he’d seen had been vampires or ghouls.  Either type of monster would be bad news.  If he would have slowed down to get around an obstacle, they could be through his driver’s side window in a flash.

He hoped the damn things would go after the Screaming Demons assholes.  Even if those psychos were working with the Macon Protectors, monsters couldn’t be controlled, could they?

A Mexican Grill flashed by on the left as he began getting up to speed again.  His radio crackled to life.  “Uh, all elements.  Uh, this is Rich from Night Rangers.”  The man’s voice was terse, stressed.  “We have a position at the discount grocery store, the one standing by itself.  If you drive to us, hit your high beams twice so we know you got this message and that you are you.  There are snipers on the roof that can help if you are being followed.  Uh, over.”

That makes sense, thought Vince.  From a single building standing by itself, the defenders could see in every direction better.  It would be harder to catch them unaware.  They’d be a more conspicuous target, but it sounded like some of the guys were already set up.

And unlike Vince, most of the Warhounds had fled straight to this area after the original mission had gone south.  He had to believe most of them had survived, he had to.  There were a hell of a lot of Macon Protectors, and they had a few mages.

He kept frantically looking left, trying to find a place he could cut over the median again and just drive off road into the shopping center, but there was a chain link fence separating the highway from the parking lots.  No good.  Vince knew better than to challenge a fence with his jeep.  Even if he made it through without killing himself, it would probably kill his ride.

And Vince couldn’t outrun monsters or SUVs on foot.

He finally neared the next intersection, the last before the Macon mall.  Only a large residential area separated this shopping center from the mall down the street.  The intersection looked like it used to have a makeshift blockade--probably set up Macon Protectors--but now it was unmanned.  All that was left were some broken boards, leftover twisted metal, and glass on the ground.  Either the Warhounds or a Warhound ally had smashed through whoever had been blocking this place, or maybe they’d left due to tmonsters.

Vince drove across the median again to get a lead on his pursuer and evade fire.  He had to slow down as he turned, but was still going fairly fast.  So when a car came crashing down in the middle of the street ahead of him--out of the freakin’ sky--he almost couldn’t stop in time.

“What the fuck!?” he yelled.  The jeep fishtailed as he slammed on the brakes.  His front bumper crumpled as he hit the destroyed car in the middle of the road at a skidding ten miles per hour.  Vince was glad he didn’t have an airbag.

And the jeep died.  “Shit shit shit!” he hissed.

He kicked the door open.  It took both legs. Then he climbed out of the vehicle as fast as he could, grabbing his Mossberg 500 and taking it with him.  The moment he was outside on the road, he almost made a run for it, but stopped dead when he saw where the thrown car must have come from.  Some sort of huge monster, a giant with three eyes was standing on the left side of the road.  It must have thrown the car to create a trap, and now it opened a creepy, pointed mouth.  A vampire crouched to one side and behind the thing, not moving.  Maybe it was waiting for scraps.

Vince didn’t hesitate.  He aimed his shotgun at the giant and rattled off three 12 gauge rounds, two slugs and one 00 buckshot. There was no noticeable effect.  The giant took a step, and that one stride immediately ate up half of the distance between them.

After shooting the rest of his shells in his shotgun’s tube, Vince transitioned to his pistol, a good ol’ Sig P220.  The odds of his shots doing anything to an almost twenty foot tall monster wasn’t great, but Vince knew he couldn’t run, and he wasn’t going to die cowering.  He’d promised himself that a long time ago.

Screeching tires and distant headlights on the highway could have been friend or foe, but either way, they weren’t going to reach his position before the giant had caught him.  He knew he was screwed.  This was it.

The giant was taking another step forward when suddenly its arm fell off at the shoulder.  A spray of thick-looking blood erupted from the wound and the giant made a ground-trembling, foghorn-sounding cry of pain.

Vince ran a palm over his face to refocus his vision.  He couldn’t believe his eyes.  The Grim, Jake, stood behind the giant now.  A sword in his hand.  His other hand was extended and the vampire was down too, its throat torn open.  What the hell just happened?

The vampire on the ground was rolling around as clawed at its ruined throat.  Jake economically chopped his blade into its forehead and didn’t spare it another glance.  He jumped forward supernaturally fast while swinging his deadly curved blade.  A moment later, the giant was collapsing, one of its legs almost severed.

Vince’s blood ran cold, even more than a few seconds earlier when he’d been sure he was going to die.  He’d seen Jake kill a ghoul before, but it’d been nothing like this.  The Grim’s casual display of power and skill with a weapon was unlike anything the Warhounds leader had ever seen before.

The giant bellowed on the ground, rage in its mismatched eyes.  Ropes of saliva fell from the thing’s jackal-like mouth.  This close, Vince could feel its hot breath.  It’s head turned, and Vince’s stomach dropped as the giant focused on him.  Then it snarled, clawing its way forward with one arm faster than it had any right to.  Vince raised his pistol again, but Jake was already on top of the thing, planting his sword through the huge monster’s skull.

He took it down in seconds, marveled Vince.  The giant had shrugged off enough hot lead to kill two grizzly bears, but Jake’ sword had made short work of it.

The Grim spoke.  His awful, grating voice didn’t bother Vince nearly as much as it had before.  “You should get going--Vincent, right?  Most of the others that have survived are already at the grocery store.  A few more are trickling in.”  As if to punctuate what he’d said, a big truck managed to plow through the chain link fence a few hundred yards down the road the way Vince had just come.  He hoped it was one of the Warhounds or Kings or Rangers.  The Night Demons were still out there, but strangely enough, none of the ones that had been pursuing him were anywhere to be seen anymore.

Vince shook his head to clear it.  “Grim!  Jake!  There were Screaming Demons in an SUV behind me!”  As he spoke, he reloaded his shotgun.

Jake nodded and pointed.  “They went after someone else.  A few people have died from them, and more from the monsters down the street.  The vampires are in a feeding frenzy now.  There are others coming this way now, too” Jake said grimly.  “All of this chaos and blood is attracting monsters from far enough away that the Protectors hadn’t cleared them yet.  What the fuck were you thinking?  This is a disaster.  You assholes really should have waited for me.”

“Yeah,” was all Vince said in reply.  He didn’t make any excuses.  The Warhounds hadn’t been together long, but he should have been a better leader.  Plenty of his people had already died in the last few minutes.  It was something he’d live with forever if he managed to survive.

Jake’s gaze was terrifying as he seemed to peer directly into Vince’s soul.  The mysterious creature turned to look up the street.  “We will talk about it later.  You need to regroup, help your people.  The Macon Protectors are probably tied up for a few more minutes, but they’re only five or ten minutes away once they actually move out.  So seriously, get going.  Now.”

“Alright, I hear you.  I’m gone.”  Vince put actions to words and began jogging up the road.  Now that he was paying attention, he could faintly hear shouting in the distance and see lights.  The sound of an occasional gun shot rang out.  All the commotion was probably coming from the rendezvous point.  Suddenly, his brain seemed to unfreeze and he remembered the gear he had on him.  The radio!  He thought.  He pulled his radio out of his pocket.  “All elements, this is Warhound One on approach to the rendezvous point.  Any Warhounds leadership on site, give me a sit rep, over.”

“Vince!  This is Warhound Three!  We’re here, I’m here on the roof!”  Cathie’s voice came over the radio clearly.  “Get your ass up here now!  Come from the East!  We’re getting attacked from the West!  Vampires!  They’re taking cover from bullets and trying to get close!”

Vince spit.  “Warhound three, this is Warhound One, I’m heading that way now on foot.  What the fuck are you doing there?  You are supposed to be back at the base!”

“No time to talk now, Warhound One.  I am filling in as a medic, hands are busy.  It’s good to know you are still with us.  Be careful, Vince.”

“Goddam it.  Got it.  Out.”

Up ahead, a zombie was shuffling out from the woods next to an oil change business about one hundred yards up the road.  There were still monsters around, and they were likely being attracted to the noise and the light.  Lord only knew how many vampires had been released into Macon from the college.  He wasn’t out of the woods yet.  One of the freaky, skeletal vampires could come leaping out of the dark any second.  His heart beat a million miles a minute and the metric tons of adrenaline that had been hitting his system for the last 10 minutes made him jittery.  He was keyed up to the max, ready to fight his way to his people.

Suddenly, he realized that his group’s greatest weapon wasn’t coming with him.  He slowed and turned, calling, “You coming?”

Jake shook his head.  His eyes glowed blue in the darkness.  “No.”  Even though the Grim hadn’t raised his voice, the words carried.  “I have a different fight now, I think.  You need to reach your men and hold out until dawn.  Then you can track down the vampires and kill them, hell, burn them out.  That is your only chance.  Maybe arm some refugees.  Some of them have run away from the mall.”  The mysterious, horned, English-speaking monster suddenly cocked his head.  He looked almost like he was listening.

Then with no warning, Jake jumped. A second later, the pavement where he’d been standing exploded.  The Grim rode the purple flash, his cape spread out and widening.  It seemed to help him float to the rooftop of a nearby bank.

Vince stopped in his tracks.  He didn’t want to call attention to himself.  Now the tall, menacing figure he’d seen on the college roof was having a face off with Jake from across the street.  The creature glowed purple and just looking at the thing make Vince shiver.  It felt like death.

“Trosist, I presume?” Jake’s raised voice was calm, cold.

“Indeed.  That would be me,” said the tall figure.  “I believe we have met before.”  Trosist dropped the hood of his black robe and revealed a monstrous, fanged visage.  Blood red eyes with purple sclera burned above a sardonic smile.  He held a gnarled staff topped by a crystal in one hand.  Under his robe, his body was gaunt, elongated in inhuman ways.

“You were the doll?” asked Jake.

“Yes. That...situation has caused me a fair amount of inconvenience, I will admit.  I should have destroyed you then.”

“Well, you can try now,” said Jake.  He smiled.  “You dark powers boot licker.  The only difference between you and a fissure witch is the amount of power, and level of delusion.”

“Insults?  Very well.  Talk is cheap anyway.”  The demonic, red-eyed figure leveled his staff and half of the bank building exploded.  The blast fanned outwards away from the point of impact, like it’d been hit by the largest bullet ever made.  Vince’s heart dropped for a second, but after a flicker, Jake was standing right in front of him, looking completely unharmed.  “Vince, you really need to go,” was all the Heavenly Grim said before flashing forward at Trosist.

Jake’s attack blurred at the creatures’ head, but Trosist blocked with his staff and swiped at Jake with long, jagged claws.  The next series of exchanges were inhumanly fast, ending with the two of them both being blown away from each other by unseen energies.

Vince had no idea what was going on, but he could recognize a fight that was way above his pay grade.  Deciding not to order an attack on the Grim earlier had been a very, very smart decision.  And now he was also sure that Jake was an ally.  He might be a monster, but he was their monster.  At least for now.

Back on the highway, new headlights were moving up the road at high speed.  Vince had no way of knowing who they were.  The situation was getting more chaotic every second, but he was sure of one thing, now.  Vince needed to get the fuck out of dodge.

He began running as fast as he could towards the grocery store, only pausing to destroy the zombie in his way with a well aimed blast of 00 buckshot.

Behind him there was another, louder explosion, and a few heartbeats later, debris began to rain down from the sky.  A large piece, probably several hundred pounds, crashed through a window of the building to Vince’s right.

He risked a quick glance backwards and swallowed.  Then he sprinted in earnest.  Another building had just been partially smashed by a column of purple flame.  Where the magic had hit now lingered a combination of violet and orange flame before it all transitioned to regular fire, the purple fading away.  Two figures sped through the darkness, casting flickering shadows as they hissed and growled and tried to destroy each other.

Don’t die, Grim, thought Vince.  His breath wheezed and his lungs burned, but he didn’t slow down.  If you can’t take whatever that thing is, I’m damn sure we can’t.