Better to Die a Hero (24 page)
Read Better to Die a Hero Online
Authors: Michael Van Dagger
He hopped up and stepped back, excited to witness the transformation of vampire into dust statue. The woman looked much like the first he had fought, buxom and streetwalker-esque. She kicked manically, arms flailing, and her body glided across the surface like a child’s vibrating toy. She wailed a sick sound and her mouth morphed into a killing weapon. Her hands mutated into talons, slapping and punching the rooftop like a wounded berserker.
“That wasn’t very nice.” A squeaky voice said from behind.
The Troll spun to a small man stepping out of the shadows. His chest and head were of normal proportions, but his arms and legs were stunted.
“A Dwarf,” Troll said.
“That’s little person to you, ugly.” His jaw crackled and popped as it elongated. His fingers grew long and sharp.
“You have got to be shitting me,” Troll said, holding back a smile.
A titman, not more that five-foot-three and skinny like a schoolboy stepped from the darkness. “Would we shit you, you’re our favorite turd.” His hair was plastered back with gel and he came complete with leather jacket and gold chain.
“I haven’t heard that one since the fourth grade,” Troll said.
The man’s face and hands morphed.
“What a bunch of height challenged little blood suckers.”
The short Italian charged claws out front. Troll thrust out his hand, sinking the spot between his thumb and index finger into the vampire’s spongy throat, stopping him solid. He snatched a tight grip, spun and tossed the attacker at the dwarf. Both vampires tumbled across the roof. A warm wetness spread under Troll’s arm, just above the elbow. Blood dripped from slits in his coat sleeve.
He looked for the woman he had staked, but she and the weapon were gone. No problem. He was nothing if not resourceful. He pulled a large kitchen knife from his coat, also a donation from his neighbors.
The dwarf struggled to his feet and bounced on his knuckles like a crazed chimpanzee. The grotesque mouth opened wider than possible, exposing crocodile teeth and its head shook like a mad dog. The Italian circled making counterfeit martial art moves. Troll remembered acting similar; it seemed like a lifetime ago. The cuts to his arm were beginning to burn.
The two vampires attacked. Troll jump high, at least two stories, leaving the small monsters below looking upward. He had not meant to jump so high and felt foolish and needed to make it look like he had planned it. Twisting and somersaulting on the way down, he focused his mental push and moved his momentum away from the teeth and claws waiting directly below. He landed several feet from his opponents. He met their second rush with a brutal throw of the kitchen knife. The knife slammed the Italian in the mouth knocking him off his feet. Buried to the hilt, the blade shot out the back of the creature’s head. The dwarf paused to see his partner’s fate.
Troll tackled hard, driving the dwarf’s face into the tarpaper. He spun to the monster’s back, grabbed both its wrists and bent its arms behind. He planted a foot to the back of the creature’s neck and the other on its spine. The vampire’s mouth worked feverishly trying to bite. The unhinged jaw contorted and a tooth snagged Troll’s foot and cut.
“Screw you,” Troll said, snapping his legs straight. The Dwarf rolled armless across the rooftop. Troll hopped up, arms in tow, and walked to the Italian vampire. “Hold on to these for me,” he said, driving the talons of the severed limbs into the vampire’s chest. One swift pull removed the knife; a swift hack severed the vampire’s head.
Color drained from skin and cloth leaving a light ash that then turned to a dark grey. The body smelt like burnt hair. The Dwarf’s arms fell from the ash chest destroying the sculpted lapels. Troll turned to the armless torso wiggling a few feet away. Drawing the knife back, he aimed carefully and let it fly.
“Damn” he said, as it bounced into the darkness. He snatched the arms by the wrist, sundered over, and squatted next to the dwarf. Troll beat the dwarf about the face with the bloody stumps as if he were playing the drums.
“Dude looks like a lady, yeah, yeah, dude looks like a lady.” The vampire captured the end of one arm in its mouth, ruining the rhythm.
“Hey, stop that.” Troll slammed a knee into the monster’s forehead. The vampire let loose the bloody stump. “That’s better.” He tossed the arms aside and retrieved the knife. “Off with his head.”
He watched the transformation to ash. “I will never get bored watching that.”
Troll scanned the rooftop for the customary bucket. Every other rooftop contained at least one empty bucket. If there was one thing he could count on, it was a lazy roofer not going back to carry down that last empty tar bucket.
Chapter 19
N
ew York Journal:
“Hello, I’m Michelle O’Donnell and welcome to tonight's edition of New York Journal. Last night marked the first death of a police officer by the monster that has become to be known as The Troll. Officer David Banowski was thrown to his death and his partner was left with a severe concussion. Officer Banowski leaves behind a wife and two children. The Governor has said enough is enough and he has called out the National Guard. He said it is time to put an end to this monstrous nightmare. Although various city officials have expressed concern, for the citizenry, over possible injuries due to friendly fire, no official has disagreed with the Governor’s decision. The Mayor himself stated his concerns over the firing of automatic weapons in the city. In an earlier press conference the Governor addressed the Mayor’s apprehension.”
Tape:
“I understand the concerns here and I have every confidence in the men and women of the National Guard. These people are given the best training in the world and they will carry out this mission with a lethal expertise. It is our intention to stop this monster on first engagement. That is the reasoning behind the large number of personnel being deployed throughout the city. This monster will run into our forces one time and one time only. This lethal engagement will involve automatic machine gun fire, which will bring with it a risk of civilian casualties. This is why we must put an end to this monsters reign of terror on first contact.”
Studio:
“As you can tell the Governor is quite serious about putting an end to the Troll’s rampage. In our studio today, we have brought back technology expert Dr. Bill Jones. Dr. Jones, an expert in where human science is currently and where it will be years from now, theorized that the feats of superhuman strength that have been witnessed by Manhattanites is extraterrestrial in origin. Dr. Jones do you still believe this to be the case?”
“Yes I do Michelle. Let’s start with the three costumed individuals. Their documented feats of superhuman proportion cannot be the effects of any current human science. There is no technology in existence today that can account for the strength exhibited. That is why I believe the technology to be extraterrestrial. Then after one of the individuals commits an act of vigilantism, the three disappear and this forth individual shows up. I believe The Troll is a next step in a genetic experimentation using technology sent to us from alien beings.”
“You say aliens sent us the technology. That’s incredible. Do you have any proof?”
“I have been contacted by a high ranking government official that told me a radio transmission was picked up two years ago, originating from outside our solar system, that carried with it advanced knowledge on genetic engineering and energy science. And here’s most startling of what he told me. That transmission carried with it a warning that earth was going to be invaded in the twenty-third century and that the knowledge sent in the message was meant to give us a chance at defending ourselves.”
“That is just amazing. So how does this message translate into three super beings and a monster roaming Manhattan?”
“I believe the Government has been conducting secret experiments in an attempt to create a super soldier.”
“I see. Well, thank you Dr. Jones for your insight. My producers are having Dr. Jones escorted out of the building. I don’t think we will be asking him back.”
* * *
Steve bounded up the staircase carrying two sodas. He skipped several steps at once and was pleased to hear less creaking and feel less give than usual. His recovery from the last encounter with Bryan was also pleasing. He had called Nora earlier in the day and invited her over to fill her in on his last failed attempt to bring Bryan in and to let her know of his plans to take on the mafia and to tell her how he would never give her up, even under torture. He entered the bedroom. Nora was sitting at his desk, not on his bed as he had hoped.
“Here you go, notice diet cream soda,” he said, handing her one and pointing to the label. He kicked off his shoes and propped himself up against the headboard leaving half the bed available. He recounted the events that took place two nights ago, leaving out no detail, including the big man, Henry, that had aided him and how Henry’s friend looked just like Stephen King. The only embellishment occurred at the end, when he described Ted, the Stephen King look-alike as scarier than he really was.
“And now he’s killed again,” Nora said, wiping a tear from her eye.
“Yes, and a cop no less.” Steve took a sip of soda and stared past the can at Nora’s breasts.
She said, “The Governor called out the National Guard today. He said they were going on a monster hunt.” She pulled her coat closed.
“My uncle told me that soldiers were going to be deployed on every building in Manhattan. That the troops in the city were going to number in the thousands.”
“Only a matter of time before Bryan is caught?”
“Killed,” he said.
Nora sniffled and took a tissue from her pocket. “You said he doesn’t look anything like himself, maybe they won’t be able to identify him”
“The bones in his face have moved or mutated and his teeth are crooked, but that won’t stop the forensic experts. Plus, those filthy boxer shorts he’s wearing probably have his name sewn into the waistband. His mom is nuts about stuff like that.”
“It’s almost over for us.”
“Not necessarily.” Steve put on a serious face. “I plan to take the fight to the mafia. I’ll hit them hard with everything I’ve got. You stay away and act like you know nothing about this.”
“Hit them with everything you’ve got,” Nora said, with a puzzled look. “What exactly is this, everything you’ve got?
“I’m sure a couple of the pistols my dad gave me work and I may not be super powered any longer, but I’m a lot lighter on my feet than I used to be.”
“Let’s say one of those old pistols does work. How are you going to take the fight to them? Do you know where they live? Do you know how many men you’re going up against? Do you even know who they are?”
Steve’s teeth ground and the muscles at the back of his jaw knotted into hard balls. “So I may not be able to take the fight to them, exactly, but I can be ready for them and when they come I can give them the fight of their lives.”
“They’ll kill both you and your uncle,” she said. “How’s that going to help anyone. If you get lucky and kill a couple of them, so what. You’re dead and then my family’s next.”
The two sat quietly and Steve pondered the situation. “Do you think the trail from me to you is strong enough that the mafia can find it?”
“Yes, like dominos. When Bryan falls, it goes to you and from you to me. You used to know that. That’s why you tried to keep us from seeing each other.”
“I guess you’re right.” Steve rubbed his eyes. “I’m sorry, of course you’re right. What do you think we should do?”
“I think we should go to the FBI and soon.”
Steve got off the bed and paced the room. “If we tell them about the powder and everything we know about the effects that could help me out of trouble.”
“Except for the mob wanting us dead, we’re not really in trouble with the authorities.”
“You may not be in any trouble but I am. I witnessed Bryan murder a half dozen people and didn’t go to the police.”
“Then I’m in the same trouble, because you told me everything and I didn’t go to the police either. Maybe we can leave out the part about you chasing down Bryan.”
“I don’t think it would help. One, the FBI would give us lie detector tests and two, even if we did pass, we watched the news and were aware that Bryan was killing and still we didn’t go to the police.” Steve’s pacing sped up.
“So, we are in a little trouble with the authorities,” Nora said, fingering her bald spot as she did several times a day, “but I just don’t see any other way out.”
“There is no other way out,” Steve said, a light smile crossing his face. “Once the National Guard and police find out that this supposed troll is a mutated teenager they may go easy on him.”
“That’s true,” Nora agreed. Optimism entered her voice, “This all out monster hunt may turn into a capture mission.”
“We’ll still have to deal with the mob, but at least we’d be under some kind of protection.”
“Steve, I know this isn’t the perfect solution. I don’t think there is a perfect solution, but turning ourselves in, it’s the only thing we can do.”