Elise unknowingly saves a vampire from certain death and is now on the run from men who want to kill her.

                                                           Chapter 13
                                                         The Slasher
                                           

Elise Fowler.
Sunday Morning.

I walk outside in the early morning gloom and breathe in the fog. A chill is in the air, and some leaves brush past my feet as the wind picks up. It almost sounds like a whistle.
I zip my jacket up to my neck and walk across the street towards Freeman's Family Market where I parked. I can already see the lot is jammed full because its free to leave your car here after business hours. I step onto the curb and quickly make my way past the pair of stinky trash bins.
They smell like spoiled milk and meat products and I step in whatever fluid is leaking out from under them. Now the bottom of my shoes sticks as I walk. God- I hate that noise.
I keep checking over my shoulder. Maybe it's the curfew thing, but I can't shake the feeling like I'm being watched. I feel paranoid, but I take my hand out of my pocket and have my keys clenched in my fist. My cars up ahead and I'm almost running to it now.
Someone's definitely whistling.
I hear multiple footsteps running closer, and something slams hard against the trashcans behind me. I turn around too fast and trip over my own feet; I'm falling backward. I try and catch myself with my hands, hit my elbow and my keys fly out of my grip. I hear the metal rings slide across the ground under a car and grit my teeth against the pins and needles shooting up my arm.
"You're dead," a voice echoes.
My eyes focus.
Near the trashcans, a body is laying still in the muck. The tiny hairs on the back of my neck stand up. Shadowed silhouettes drift from wall to wall and I back away from them on my hands and knees. Two big men come from around the corner, combat boots slapping against the ground. The first is a bulldog-looking blonde somewhere in his fifties. His elbows stick out like wings, his scowling eyes fixed upon the body on the floor, his hard white fingers flexing into meaty fists. The second is a bald black guy, taller than the first maybe late forties, and built like an action hero. He has muscles growing on top of muscles.
They're both covered in leather body armor and have weapons attached to their hips. They look like cops to me and I lay still not wanting to draw their attention.
"Tie him up Bert," the blond one says. He has an accent, sounds Australian. "Fucker's not getting away this time."

I can see their legs shuffling about under the line of cars, and they flip the body over on its belly.
It's a boy. Just another teenager.
Police are fucking serious about breaking curfew.
"Shit," my breath fogs in front of me and I crawl over to the car where I dropped my keys. I can see them under there, and I stretch my hand behind the tire and reach for them, but my arms too short. I take a peak back. The one called Bert ties a gag over the unconscious boy's mouth and presses a knee into his back to keep him still while they tie up his hands. The man's a tank and a yellow sash tied around his bicep catches my eye. It has the symbols 'SS' sewed onto at a slanted angle. I can't place where I've seen it before.
"Hurry," Bert says. "Get his blood before he wakes up."
Bulldog's holding a syringe, and he stabs it into the back of the boy's neck. I pull my hand out from under the car to cover my scream.
These aren't cops.
My stomach lurches watching them steal his blood.
I need to get out of here.
I look under the rows of cars and find mine parked in the corner. If I crawled to it, I think I had a chance at escape. My hand reaches for my keys again; fingers stretched out and this time, they touch the silver ring. If only I could hook my finger through it, I could pull it back to me.
I hear a muffled scream and look up. The boy's conscious now, and he's struggling under the needle, and when he turns his head, his face is momentarily on level with mine. Our eyes lock with each other. I'm shaking. He can't say anything because of the gag, but he's keeping eye contact with me, waiting for me to scream for help, to do anything but stare at him.
My brain is yelling at me to do something, and I remember my phone. I pull it out of my back pocket and the screen flashes: Low-Battery. I ignore it and punch in the numbers: 911, but before I can press send, my cell phone promptly dies.
"Shit, shit," I look back up at the boy, not knowing what else to do. He looks scared, and he jerks violently as the syringe is yanked out of his neck after having it's fill.
"Hold him down." Bulldog says.
Bert pulls out a knife and places it up against the boy's throat.
Jesus Christ, these guys are the Slasher killers!
I can't look away, and the boy and I are still staring at each other. We both know he's a goner. I don't make a sound. I don't want to die with him, and I stay as still as I can.

"What's he looking at?" Bert says, and I nearly piss myself when he suddenly lowers his head to the floor and sees me.
I panic and ram my hand back under the car. I don't care about the noise I make now. I'm slamming my shoulder hard against the door, fingers scraping concrete, chin smashed against dirty tire until I feel the tiny metal ring, and I yank my keys out from underneath the car. I push myself up and run towards my car.
I can make it.
I hear footsteps running fast behind me, and I'm breathing so hard my lungs burn.
I'm at my car and jam my key into the lock. I think I might get the door open, but I'm yanked away, keys ripped from my fingers and left stuck in the door.
I start to scream, but a hand clamps over my mouth. It tastes like metal and dirt, and I'm lifted off my feet, and he's dragging back towards the back of the building. I start thrashing, and I'm screaming behind dirty fingers and kicking at any car I can, trying to set off alarms. Dark arms squeeze around my ribs, hard, and it crushes the breath out of me. I feel Bert's cheek press against my ear; his voice is so low it rumbles.
"Don't make me hurt you." He says and flashes the knife in front of my face.
I go limp. I weigh nothing to him, and we're quickly out of sight behind Freeman's Market.
I see that Bulldog has already brought the boy back here, and he's finishing tying him against a pipe along the back wall. Bert drops me onto my feet and shoves me forward. I stumble, but catch myself before I fall, and I'm herded towards the others.
I look around for an escape, for a security camera or someone to call for help, but we're well hidden from any buildings or major streets and there are no cameras that I can see.
"I got her Matt." Bert rumbles behind me.
So Bulldog has a name. He looks like a Matt to me. Every Matt I know was a giant prick, and this one reminds me of an aggro caveman: Grizzled face and a mean scowl with hunched shoulders like some alpha ass-hole looking for something to prove.
He's wearing the same yellow sash around his arm, and he spits near my feet. "Well?" He says. "Slice her throat, show this bastard we mean business."
"No!" I turn to run, but Bert is right behind me, like a large black shadow, blocking my escape. His hand grabs my arm, and I can't get out of his solid grip."Please," My eyes dart to the knife. "I don't have any money, I've got nothing you want."
"Shut up," he grabs a fist full of my hair and pulls my head back.
I don't want to die. I'm scratching at his leathered chest and arms but instead of cutting my throat he puts his knife away. He's got a solid grip on the back of my head, and his other hand grabs my jaw and pulls my mouth open. He's looking inside, tugging back my lips, and I think he might be a pervert.
Oh God- I'm going to cry.
He doesn't find whatever he's looking for and releases my chin. "She's just a kid Matt."
I feel myself relax. Maybe he didn't hurt kids. Maybe they'd let me go?
I nod my head with conviction and feel some of my hair rip out through his fingers. "I just had a birthday," I wince, tears springing to my eyes. "I'm only seventeen."
Matthew walks up to us, nostrils flaring. I try to shrink away, but the tight grip on my hair keeps me in place.
"They make them young," Matthew growls. "Don't fall into their trap Bert. They're not innocent; she'd kill you in a second."
My body is shaking. Who the hell do they think I am?
"Please, I don't want to be a part of this," I say. "I've never done drugs in my life, my names Elise Fowler, I'm not in a gang- you're making a mistake."
"I think she's telling the truth," Bert says. I feel his fingers relax in my hair. "She's not one of them."
"We can't let her go, Bert, not until we finish this." Matthew spits. "She stays with us until morning."
Bert nods and he leads me over to the boy by my hair.
My hearts thumping hard in my chest as I'm pushed closer. He's a bloody mess, and I feel sick looking at him. One of his eyes is completely swollen shut, making him look like Quasi Motto. His dark hair is wet with sewage and matted against his forehead in tiny curls, and one sleeve of his jacket is ripped, and his shirt dirty from being shoved to the ground. His good eye, I notice, is a startling green and it watches me until Matthew takes him by the face and punches him hard. The sound is wet, and the knot across his eyebrow splits open and blood drips down his swollen eyelid.
The hand releases my hair, and Bert turns me around, and I'm forced to sit down against the wall.
I'm shaking and breathing hard, "What are you going to do to me?"
"Don't worry," Bert whispers, taking a knee. "We won't hurt you if you are what you say you are."
His eyes are so brown they looked black to me.
"I'm nobody," I say. "Please, I want to go home."
"Behave yourself and you might live to see tomorrow."
Matthew grabs Bert's arm. "What the hell are you talking to her for?"
He pulls Bert off to the side and they start arguing together in hushed voices. I wipe the tears away from my face and I can't stomp trembling. The gagged boy catches my eye with a desperate jerk of his head. I look at him. He's trying to say something, but he's muffled by the gag. It's been pulled back so tight that he's bleeding out of the corners of his mouth, but he doesn't need to say a word. He jerks his head towards the cars, and I understand.
He wants me to make a run for it.
I can see my car straight ahead, the keys stuck in the door. I had a clear shot. I look back at the men. They were too busy bickering with each other that they weren't paying me any attention. This might be my only chance. I look back at the boy, and he nods his head in earnest. He wants me to leave him behind.
I'm thinking if I'm fast enough, I could get some help before they killed him.
He needs me.
"I'll come back for you," I whisper, and he nods his head.
Gaining the courage, I quickly get up and bolt for it.
Before I can make it around the corner, I hear a 'POP' and a large chunk of brick wall explodes near my head. I skid to a stop and look back. Matthew has a gun pointed at me and my imagination paints scenarios of me slumped against the wall, clutching my chest as blood gushes out through my fingers. I'm thinking about the grocery clerk finding my body, imagining my face flashing on the news next to my mothers and my knees buckle.
I hold my hands up in surrender.
"Next time, I won't miss." Matthew's voice is a deadly whisper. He motions at me with the gun to walk back towards them and my feet obey.
I don't know anything about guns, but this one looks weird. Like something out of a sci-fi film. If I hadn't seen it take a chunk out of the brick wall, I would have thought it was a fake.
I move slowly, watching his finger gently curve around the trigger. Just one squeeze and my brains splatter against the side of a trash can.
Now I'm standing back where I started, next to the boy. I'm shaking with adrenalin. Matt smiles, knowing he has full control of my life and he says, "Sit down."
My legs give out underneath me, and I drop to the floor, my back pressing hard against the wall. Matthew steps up to me, bringing the gun to my head and jams the muzzle against my temple. It's warm, and I hold my breath.
"Don't talk, don't interfere." He warns. "You so much as sneeze without being told, I will shoot you. Understand me?"
I give a nod and feel the gun press harder into my skin.
I look at him.
He wants to shoot me. I can see it in his eyes that I'm already dead.
"Matthew," Bert clears his throat. "Can I have a word?"
I hear the 'click' of the safety being pulled back and Matthew stands up with a growl. I let out my breath and tears are falling down my cheeks. I wipe them away, but more come to replace them. My brain keeps telling me that I'm alive, and I can't think about anything other than the feeling of that gun pressed against my temple.
Matthew and Bert don't walk so far away, this time, their huge bodies blocking the only path out.
"See?" Matthew says. "This little bitch is in cahoots with him. We need to get rid of them both, now."
I can't look at the boy, but I can feel him staring. Any chance of us getting out of this in one piece is now zero, thanks to me. I failed to help, and I drop my head in shame.
"I checked her Matt. She's clean," Bert says. "Can't blame her for trying to run."
"I'm telling you it's a ploy," Matthew argues. "David's dead."
"That was his fault, he got sloppy."
"Jesus Christ, he was trying to avenge Meghan." Matthew points the gun down at the gagged boy. "They're both dead because of him."
I look at the boy, and he seems just as freaked out as I am.
"I've got a niece and nephew who are orphans because of this fuck," Matthew whispers. "What will be their fate if we don't do this, now?"
"Fine," Bert agrees, his big hands rubbing the spot between his eyes. "What do we do now?"
"Let's get started," Matthew says, holstering his gun. "Take off his gag."
Bert shakes his head. "He's not going to cooperate, Matt."
"He will," Matthew smiles. "Once morning gets here."
Bert walks over to the boy and carefully unties his gag. I can see that he looks nervous about it, and that makes me nervous too. How dangerous is this guy?
When the gag falls loose, the boy spits it out, and Bert jumps back from his face. I lean back too when he suddenly turns to me.
"My name is Cade Halevi," the boy says, "Call the police-"
Matthew kicks him in the ribs and Cade doubles over in gasps of pain.
"Don't get caught up in his pretty lies," Matthew says, yanking Cade's hair back with a smile. "All his kind knows is to kill and hide. They're cowards."
Cade hawks a loogie and spits it in Matthew's face. My mouth drops. His bloody nose-snot is clinging onto Matt's gray stubble and I watch it dribble down his chin. Matthew chuckles and wipes the large slimy glob of phlegm off his lips and punches Cade across the face, once, twice, three times- he doesn't stop. The sound of broken blood vessels make a 'thwack' sound as fists meet bruised flesh over and over again.
I can't stand the sound any longer. My stomach is tied in knots, and I think I might scream.
"Stop it; you'll kill him," I beg.
Matthew looks at me, out of breath. Blood drips off his bruised knuckles, and he looks like a wild dog to me now more than ever.
"Not likely," He says with a sadist smile. "He's not that badly hurt."
I look at Cade. His swollen eye is a mangled piece of flesh, top lip is split open and puffy, bloody gums, and a steady trickle of red runs from his nose into his open mouth. He isn't breathing correctly.
He coughs up a mouth full of blood and wheezes.
He could have a collapsed lung, broken ribs, internal bleeding; I don't know- he looked like shit.
"I think he's dying." I whisper.
Bert shrugs."It's an act for your benefit."
I shake my head. "He's hurt, look at him."
Matthew's taunting Cade by slapping him across the face, keeping him from passing out. I turn to Bert, because out of the two of them he seems like the one who could be reasoned with.
"Please, he needs a doctor," I say. "Whatever you think he did, you don't need to kill him over it."
"Look, kid, he isn't human." Bert laughs at me. "He's a vampire."
I feel all hopes of reasoning with him disappear.
"What?"
"Are you deaf or just stupid?" Matthew says, grabbing Cade by the hair. "He's a blood-sucker, a parasite that kills humans for his own subsistence. He's a murderer."
"N-no..." Cade moans and Matthew backhands him across the face. Flecks of Cade's blood splatter against my cheek and I cringe.
"Take it easy Matthew," Bert says. "Not in front of the kid."
I look over at the boy, and red spit dribbles down his chin.
I feel dizzy.
"You think he's a vampire?" I say, trying to understand.
Matthew and Bert both nod their heads, and I crack a smile. I can't help it. This is all starting to feel like one big joke. "So, you're keeping us here till sunrise because you think he'll explode?" I blow out a puff of air, "You should have called Buffy."
"You think he's just some poor kid we found off the street and decided to beat up on?" Matthew growls. "You have no idea what we do to protect little brats like you."
I stop smiling. He was serious. They both were. These guys are really going around killing people they thought were vampires, and anyone walking around at night had a target on their back. Is that what these Slashing Murders are all about? A bunch of cultist freak-do-gooders?
Cade moves and Matthew slams his heavy boot down on his leg, just above the knee. The break sounds like someone cracking their knuckles. I cringe and watch Cade's face turn from pale to beat red trying not to scream. He's sucking air through his teeth and specks of spit and blood spray past his split lip.
"Awe, did I hurt you?" Matthew coos. "Should I apologize, or just put you out of your misery?" He lifts the gun and presses it against Cade's chest. "Beg me to end you." He says. "I want you to scream for it."
I see tears in Cade's eye, and he's shaking from the pain. He's biting his lip to keep from yelling, and I'm staring in horror and amazement. He won't scream. He didn't want to give this psycho the excuse to shoot both of us and be done with it.
Finally, Cade's head slumps forward, and he's still.
I'm breathing fast and have to cover my own sobs to keep from making too much noise. Matthew laughs and steps away. He whispers something to Bert, but I don't pay them any attention. I'm staring at the blood pooling out of Cade's slack mouth.
He's a bloody, broken mess, God I hope he's not dead. Maybe he just passed out from the pain?
I wipe my cheek, and my fingers come away with Cade's blood. I feel sick. I turn to the side and puke up bile and sour pepperoni slices.
I need to wipe my face so I reach in my pocket for a crumpled tissue and feel a canister instead. The pepper spray, I forgot all about it.
I have a weapon.
My hearts pounding, and I wrap my fingers around the canister. Escape didn't seem so futile now, but I'm caught. Matthew sees me and knows I have something. He jumps back fast and swings the gun over to me before I can think of a plan.
"Get your hands out of your pockets, now."
He'd shoot me before I could use the spray, so my fingers pass the canister and grip the old tissue laying there instead.
"I wanted to wipe off the blood," I say, and I pull out the crumpled snot rag and show it to him. "It's only tissue."
We stare at each other, Matthew and I. I'm afraid to breathe. I can see the veins bulge under his neck, and I think he knows I'm lying.
"Jesus Matthew," Bert steps cautiously towards him. "Put that gun away."
I hold my breath and a cell phone rings. One of theirs. Matthew blinks and seems to come out of his trance. Another ring and he reaches into his own pocket and looks down at the number.
"It's Tori," He says and shoves the gun in the belt of his pants.
I feel dizzy and let out my breath.
He moves away from me and answers the call. I can't hear whats being said, but it must be important because Bert follows.
Cade's head shoots up with a startled gasp, scaring me. He's taking large gasping breaths, and I scoot closer with the tissue and start wiping off the blood around his head and mouth. He winces when I touch his split lip.
"Jesus," I whisper. "I thought you were dead."
I pull back, and his good eye looks up at me. The color is so pretty. I thought it was green before, but maybe it's blue, I'm not sure now. The ruptured vessels in his eye are throwing me off, and it's hard to tell if the rest of him is handsome or not. Most of his face is swollen and discolored, and blood is everywhere. I look away from his eye and focus on wiping the blood off his chin.
"I'm not a vampire," His words rattle in his chest when he speaks. "I've never killed anyone. You can't believe them."
"I don't," I say. "This is just a gang initiation or some prank." I try to smile. "When they get bored they'll let us go."
"They're going to kill me." His voice is calm like he's accepted his fate. He wasn't delusional about it, and I don't know what else to say.
"They're insane," He coughs, splitting his lip back open. "They want me to give them locations to other Vampires."
"Morning's getting close," I whisper. "When they see you're not this monster they'll have to let us go, right?"
Cade shakes his head. "They'll find another excuse to kill me, and then they'll cover their tracks and kill you, too."
He was right. Things have gone too far. No way would they let me walk out of this alive now. I've seen their faces, knew their names. After Matthew hung up I was a goner, and so was Cade.
We had to get out of here.
I look at his ropes and try untying them, but the knots are too tight. I'm getting frustrated. "What do I do?" I say.
"It's okay." He's out of breath. "Save yourself."
He tries pushing me away from him with his shoulder, but he's too weak. "Tell the police, my name is Cade Halevi, I go to Blue Door College, I'm nineteen years old-"
"Hey," He's cut off by Matthew's sharp voice, and we both look up. Matt's face is red, and he shoves the phone into Bert's hands. "Finish the call."
Bert quickly disappears behind the building, and we're alone with Matthew. He's walking towards us, shoulders haunched, fists pumping at his sides, tight-lipped and an intense glare under a furrowed brow. Feels like a wild animal on the loose. He points at me."What's he telling you?"
"Nothing," I say, but he doesn't believe me. He yanks the bloody tissue from my fingers and throws it at my face.
"He's not this innocent boy," He leans in, threateningly close. "He killed my brother David, snapped his neck like that-" He snaps his fingers in front of my face. "But he got it easy compared to what this bastard did to his wife."
"You're insane," Cade is struggling against his ropes. "I've never seen you before, you crazy fuck."
Matthew loses control and turns on Cade, hitting him violently with meaty fists, and he doesn't stop.
Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!
Cade's head jerks back, his face a mutilated wheezing punching bag.
"Stop it!" I shout, but he's past listening. That wet 'thwacking' noise of blood and flesh is muted by Cade's painful grunts, and I can't take it anymore. I grab Matthew's arm and try pulling him off, "Stop it, you'll kill him!"
Matthew shoves me off, and I'm knocked backwards, hitting my tailbone against the ground. I cry out, and Matthew spins around, now focusing on me.
His nostrils flare, and I think I've made a mistake. I push myself back, but he's standing over me, face twisted like a wild animal. I dig into my pocket finding my mace, and he reaches for me, pulling me up by my shoulders and turning me around so that my back slams against his chest. His hairy forearm wraps around my throat and the other presses against my head in a choke-hold. It cuts off my air, and my neck feels like its going to break.
"I knew you were one of them." He says against my ear, "Why else would you want to protect him?"
His forearm is smashed against my lips so I open my mouth and bite him as hard as I can.
My teeth dig into his flesh, and I taste salt and dirt then blood, and he screams dropping me, my feet touching ground. I quickly turn around, pulling out my mace and shoot an eye-full of burning liquid right in his face.
He collapses to his knees immediately, coughing and gagging, and I watch his eyes swell an ugly red. I'm turning his world into a source of pain, and I don't stop spraying until the can is empty.
"Hey," Bert is running back from behind the wall. "Stop!"
I scream and throw the empty can at him; it ricochets off his bald head. He curses at me but he doesn't stop, and Cade kicks out his good leg and successfully trips Bert as he runs past. Bert falls forward, hits his chin hard against the ground, and he's out.
I blink.
Cade is struggling with his ropes, and he finally breaks free. "Run," he shouts. "Get out of here!"
I look up. Matthew's still on the floor trying to breathe, and a path to the parking lot is clear. Bert begins to stir and Cade is crawling on top of his back and smashes his head into the asphalt.
"Go!" He yells again, and I take off.
I shove past other cars and jump across someone's trunk to get to mine. My keys are still in the lock, I grab them and open the door and jump in. My fingers shake as I shove the key into the ignition. My heads swimming with adrenaline and I put my car in reverse and back out of my parking spot, fast.
My tires screech as I make a sharp turn around an old Prius and drive back around Freeman's market to pick up Cade. When I'm behind the building, I slam on the breaks and look out my window. I don't know whats happened, but Matthew has a broken nose and Cade has Bert kneeling on his knees in front of him, and he's pressing Matthew's gun against his head, execution style.
I beep my horn, and all eyes look to me.
"Cade, get in." I unlock the door and push it open for him. Cade hesitates and for a second I think he'll shoot Bert in the head. But he doesn't. He looks down at Bert and whispers something; I don't know what, and immediately smashes the butt of the gun against the back of Bert's head and the dark man topples over and doesn't move.
Cade makes his way towards me, and he's limping. His broken leg is dragging a trail of blood behind him, but he makes it to my car and slides in.
"Go, go!" He throws the gun out the window, and I hit the gas.
A loud pop-pop-pop trails after us and bullets hit the back of my car. I scream and try smashing myself down as low as I can while still keeping control of the wheel. The bullets sound like a bunch of marbles rolling around metal, and I swerve around other cars and start to pray.
"Please, God," I swear allowed. "If we make it out alive, I promise to pay every last parking ticket I owe and never break curfew again."
I drive off the curb with a jolt and speed away from the parking lot, the sounds of rapid-fire disappearing fast behind us.