Fall of the Mortals (Book 1) (22 page)

“Look what they did to our city, Kristof,” said Ruzzo as if Kristof was a god and had full intention to even the score.

“You mean
my
city,” answered Kristof sneeringly. “This world belongs to me,” he added with his hands behind his back drifting in front of them, staring towards the ocean.

“Yes, of course,” answered Ruzzo fearing that he may have offended him.

“Should we attack them?” asked Miguel. “We don’t know what they have out there.”

“I’ll tell you what they have!” hollered Kristof in an angry tone. The black smoke emitted from him more. “I know everything about the puny remains of the human world,” he added in a calmer tone with a smirk.

“Do they have white roses?” asked Ruzzo.

“Garlic perhaps?” asked Miguel.

“Wooden stakes?” asked Ruzzo.

“Crucifixes?” asked Miguel.

“Silence!” said Kristof, losing his patience with them.

Ruzzo and Miguel were quiet and watched Kristof in fear.

“They’re on a naval ship, you fools,” Kristof scolded.

“Of course, Kristof,” Miguel responded, shrinking from his fury, daring not to speak again.

“Their trust is in their ships, planes and their guns,” said Kristof. “They know nothing of the immortals.”

“But what can we do?” asked Ruzzo. “Their ship sits on the water miles from here.”

“So it does but you can fly can’t you?” asked Kristof coldly.

Ruzzo and Miguel didn’t respond. They were intimidated by Kristof’s anger. Several vampires began to gather around Kristof. The burns on their faces, arms, hands and clothing healed themselves.  Kristof grinned looking over his population of immortal vampires.

“All of you, come with me,” said Kristof in a commanding tone, drifting from the crowd in mid-air.

“Over the water?” asked a female vampire, rebuking him. “It’s suicide.”

Kristof rushed up to her in a rage. The dark mist emitted from him. The female vampire shrunk from his intimidating, cold, staring orange eyes and gnashing teeth. He was disgusted at her cowardly response. She floated in the air staring back at him, afraid to say anything.

“Listen to me!” Kristof hollered to the others. “The mortals think us weak. They are insects beneath our feet. We’ll make a stand now, feast on their blood and destroy them.”

“But the water can hurt us, mighty one,” said a male vampire.

Kristof flew at him and struck him in the chest. The male vampire was sent through a window of a nearby building taking out the glass, blinds and the curtain before tumbling to the floor. The vampire was knocked out from Kristof’s powerful assault. He lay unconscious on the floor of the tenth level. The rest of the vampires were frightened by his speed and strength.

“Anyone else wish to complain about the water?” asked Kristof, glaring at the crowd as if he was daring one of them to speak up.

The huge crowd of vampires was silent. They were too afraid to speak.

“Good, because the next one that whines over the water I will personally rip to shreds,” Kristof declared sounding like a drill instructor. “Everyone, this way!” he added, flying toward the coast. The huge multitude of vampires followed him.

***

Stanton and several military personnel stood near the landing strip watching Gonzales and the other jets return to base. He was hopeful in feeling confident that the air strike was effective. He feared the worst in that he would have to stay on the Kennedy much longer than he had anticipated. It was having a psychological toll on him. He thought of his session with his therapist that kept telling him he had been in the Navy game twelve years too long after his twenty year retirement date and that he should step down and pass the torch on to somebody else.

Stanton stood scratching his salt and pepper beard watching Gonzales climb down from his pilot’s ladder. The anxiety of not knowing the status report grew inside of him like a reoccurring pain in his side. He and other sailors hurried to Gonzales to get the news. Gonzales and the other two pilots were received well by the personnel. They cheered them on, patting them on the shoulder and chanting things such as
“Awesome!”
and
“Great job!”

The other two pilots came through the crowd of sailors and stood next to Gonzales. They glanced at each other with straight faces and looked at the admiral who was desperate for a report.

“Well?” asked Stanton.

“Targets were hit. It was a full detonation, sir,” answered Gonzales.

“Yes!” Stanton exclaimed, making a fist of victory.

“But,” added Gonzales.

“But?” asked Stanton beginning to worry.

“I’m sorry, admiral, but the warheads weren’t effective,” Gonzales responded looking down and glancing at the other pilots.

Stanton stood staring at Gonzales in shock. He was speechless. The terror of being up against an unconquerable enemy began to consume him.

“I watched the detonation myself on the screens in the control room,” said Stanton in a soft voice, not accepting the truth. His eyes stared at Gonzales in disbelief.

“Yes sir,” Gonzales responded.

“That blast ripped the biggest damn hole in Manhattan in military history, captain,” said Stanton, still trying to grasp reality.

“Yes sir,” Gonzales responded sadly, holding his helmet at his side, displeased with the results.

“I watched the damn Empire State crumble to the sidewalk,” said Stanton. “Anything moving within a mile radius should have been vaporized,” he added in a quiet, mumbled voice.

“Yes sir,” Gonzales answered.

“Explain to me how our assault was ineffective, pilot,” asked Stanton, almost in a whisper.

“Sir, we double backed and scanned the area for results of the blasts,” answered Gonzales.

“And?” asked Stanton, almost afraid to listen to Gonzales continue his response.

“I watched several of those things fully engulfed in flames fly around the buildings as if the blast had no effect,” answered Gonzales in a dry, disappointed tone.

“Some of them were crushed under collapsing buildings,” said the second pilot in a serious voice. “They climbed out as if the weight meant nothing to them.”

“I didn’t see much after my warhead detonated in Brooklyn,” said the third pilot. “I was hoping to have better results than what I’ve been hearing.”

“Well, one thing is clear,” said Stanton, trying to muster up more confidence. “We’ll need a new game plan.”

“Admiral! Captain Hansen is arriving in the Kentucky at the stern,” hollered a sailor rushing up to Stanton with excitement. 

“Tell him I’d rather be on his submarine,” Stanton responded with sarcasm. “Safer under the damn water than anywhere out here. Somebody get me my megaphone!” he added, walking to the rear of the Kennedy.

A sailor shined a spotlight down on the U.S.S. Kentucky submarine rising to the surface. Stanton and his crew watched the sail, radio antennas, periscope, sail planes and the long deck of the enormous sub emerge from the sea. The water ran off the deck causing loud splashes on each side. The rudder and propeller remained submerged. 

Stanton lit up a cigar looking down at the Kentucky, a sub that was designed for nuclear warfare. He waited for Hansen and his crew to open the sail hatch and show themselves. He remembered Hansen had competed against him for the admiral position on the Kennedy but that he won. He knew Hansen a long time throughout his career. He was a better leader in the navy with more conviction and dedication but politics played out in Stanton’s favor.

Hansen opened the sail hatch holding a megaphone. He was blinded briefly by the spotlight.

“Stanton? Is that you?” asked Hansen speaking into a megaphone, holding his hand over his face to block the spotlight.

“How are things down under, Captain?” Stanton responded, exhaling cigar smoke.

“Probably as bad as they are up there,” Hansen responded.

“How are your supplies?” asked Stanton.

“We’re okay for another three months,” Hansen replied. “How was the air strike?”

“Unsuccessful,” Stanton answered. “The enemy stands.”

“That’s most unfortunate,” said Hansen. “We were hoping for better news.”

“The next plan is to regroup and see what Campbell wants to do,” stated Stanton sounding confident.

***

Over the water, Kristof flew with his numerous hosts of vampires. They were attracted to his leadership. Despite that, they were fearful of the acidic waters of the ocean, they trusted he was leading them to a banquet of fresh blood on the naval carrier. 

The naval carrier was coming into view. It was lit up in the short distance, anchored on the calm seas. There was no guessing where it was located. Stanton made it very easy for Kristof and his legion of vampires to track them down, as if they were a multitude of rodents in the wild that left a trail for predators. They flew down to the Kennedy heading right for Stanton and his men who were rallied at the stern of the ship.

“Kill everybody! Leave none alive!” Kristof shouted, flying at the head of his army of flying vampires.

Stanton and his sailors heard yelling above them in the distance. They looked up and couldn’t see anything but the noises grew louder. Stanton turned around and looked up in fear. He was frozen where he stood. They flew in too fast to even come up with a plan of retreat.

The vampires were upon them. They flew down and grabbed sailors and flew back into the air with them like a swarm of hawks swooping down for their prey. The sailors screamed as they were snatched and taken up into the sky. The vampires bit them viciously on their necks and feasted on them. After the vampires gained a satisfying taste of their blood, they dropped the sailors’ dead bodies into the sea. The sailors’ bodies floated at the surface. Some were face down, others were on their backs.

The vampires flew back to the stern, the bow and the starboard areas of the aircraft carrier to fetch more victims. Stanton was glued to the railing guard at the stern. He was in shock watching the vampires wipe out his entire crew without being able to put up the smallest fight. His crew ran in all directions screaming in panic. A sailor was snatched by a vampire and carried up. Another was taken. Then another.

Stanton didn’t move. His eyes darted everywhere witnessing the horrible scene. One of his sailors ran at him screaming in horror. There was blood on his face. Stanton reached out to help him but a vampire flew down and grabbed him, taking him high into the air.

“Admiral! Help me!” the sailor screamed before the vampire bit his neck and silenced him.

Stanton was overwhelmed with terror. He didn’t know what to do watching the vampires destroy his crew. They landed violently on the parked F-18s smashing the cockpit glass covers, ripping the pilot controls apart, breaking the wings off and tearing apart the ventral fins, the rudders and the twin tails. Other vampires flew through the windows of the primary flight control, bridge and the flag bridge and attacked the officers. Several of the sailors jumped off the deck to escape the attack. Some of them were caught in mid-air by flying vampires that swooped down and snatched them.

“Stanton!” Hansen shouted over the megaphone. “Jump!”

Stanton breathed heavily. He had never been as terrified in his entire life. He wasn’t sure if he was going to have an anxiety attack or just remain frozen in fear. Hansen’s voice in the background sounded muffled.

“Stanton!” Hansen shouted a second time.

Stanton turned and looked down at the submarine captain, scared and nearly disoriented.

“Jump, damn it!” Hansen shouted again, sounding angry. “It’s your only chance!”

Stanton looked at the water that was eighty feet below. The swishing waters were like a torturing pit waiting to claim him. Fear ripped through him because of his age and his knee surgery from the previous year. He hadn’t made a jump like that in twenty years when he was younger and much stronger. Even then, it was only forty feet when he dove off a short cliff in Hawaii.

Stanton looked behind him. Kristof was flying right at him, laughing with an evil, gnashing grin on his face. Kristof’s teeth were soaked in blood as he had preyed on several of the sailors.

“Feast!” shouted Kristof, heading for the admiral with his arms extended waiting at any moment to grab him.

A fire lit inside of Stanton. He turned around, leaped over the railing guard on the stern and made the jump. Kristof came after him laughing sinisterly. Stanton’s fall was too fast. He plunged into the sea water. Kristof backed off and avoided any splashing water from getting on him. A few drops landed on Kristof’s hand and on his black robe. His hand burned. Vapors of steam came off him. Kristof shouted in pain and flew up from the water. He glared down at Stanton who surfaced from his plunge while holding his hand that was burned. Stanton breathed heavily, looking up at Kristof.

“Swim, admiral! Swim!” shouted Hansen.

Stanton swam as fast he could towards the deck of the sub. He caught hold of the ladder, climbed onto the deck and ran to the ladder attached to the sail. Kristof flew at him for the kill. Stanton cried out, putting his hands up to guard himself. Kristof was again repelled from Stanton. He covered his mouth as if he was going to vomit and flew away. The sub began to submerge into the water. Stanton watched Kristof fly over him with a new inspiring thought in his mind.