Blood Crusade

  Blood Crusade

  By Billita Jacobsen

  Copyright © 2018 by Billita Jacobsen. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without prior permission of the author with the exception of brief quotations in a review. Contact author by email: foxpathorg@aol.com

  Cover Art: Wilder Poetry, wildisshe@gmail.com

  Blood Crusade is a work of fiction. Names and places are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead is coincidental.

  This book is dedicated to my mother, Betty Lou Sabatka Leslie, for her patience and love for her children, and to my father, author and poker champ, Bill “Slick” Hanner, who always had a good story to tell.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1: Taken For Granted

  Chapter 2: What Happens In Vegas

  Chapter 3: Fun In The Sun

  Chapter 4: The Philosopher and The Professor

  Chapter 5: Taken By Evil

  Chapter 6: Tunnel of the Lost

  Chapter 7: Worse than a Baby Killer

  Chapter 8: Sex in Sin City

  Chapter 9: Beware the Idle Vampires of March

  Chapter10: The Last Pharaoh

  Chapter 11: The Final Invitation

  Chapter 12: Road Trip to Hell

  Chapter 13: Tiny Hell Hound

  Chapter 14: The Lost are Finally Found

  Chapter 15: Beware the Silver Lining

  Chapter 16: Good Knights in a Bad Place

  Chapter 17: Fabricating Memories

  Chapter 18: Return to Camelot

  Chapter 19: The Method of Humanity

  Chapter 20: The Origin of the Word

  Chapter 21: The Noble Minded

  Chapter 22: Battle at Yucca Mountain

  Epilogue

  Chapter 1: Taken For Granted

  It was a lovely, taken for granted day. How I wish there’d been some foreboding of what was to come so every second of that perfect day could have been appreciated. The setting sun would take my happiness and the darkness would end life as I knew it.

  I’m sharing my story with you because humans deserve to know how the horror began. You need to understand that we tried to save you and thought we had succeeded. I swear to you that we have unwittingly destroyed you. There is little hope; we are all likely doomed. If the scourge hasn’t yet destroyed where you live, enjoy your last lovely days. Savor every moment; it’s inevitable that it will ultimately reach you. However, if you can stay alive for four months it will begin to die out; this is our small chance for humanity to survive.

  Mankind is comprised of small family units, and those who are wise will cherish their kin. Love should shine each and every day we are lucky enough to make our way through our time in this place. I was a fool and did not cherish my family every waking moment. However, I really did have a good time that last lovely day spent with my daughter, one of the best in my life. It was the night that changed my future. The darkness, a flat tire, and a crazed werewolf.

  It was a one hour drive to the river and we had a late start. My husband Sean was sick and couldn’t come with us for a day he had planned for weeks. He wanted our daughter to enjoy outdoor experiences and had looked forward to the river event. I placed a glass of orange juice and cough medicine on the bed table beside him as my daughter, Heather, and I prepared to leave. He peered at me with red eyes, coughing and blowing his nose and sniffling, “I’m so sorry I can’t go with you, have fun.” I almost kissed him goodbye, his tousled red hair and freckled face beckoned me with cuteness, but changed my mind and kept my distance—I certainly didn’t want to catch what he had.

  Heather wanted to wear her pink princess dress, she was in a dress phase. “Honey, wear your shorts and t-shirt, we’re going to be outside all day,” I said.

  “Why, Mommy? Why can’t I wear my dress?” she asked with the innocence of a four year old.

  “Because it will get dirty,” I replied.

  “My shorts and t-shirt would get dirty, too. Mommy please, can I wear my dress? I’ll wash it when we get home.”

  “I don’t think so, honey, shorts would be better for today.”

  “Why, Mommy, why? Why can’t I wear what I want to?”

  There really was no explanation. I was a pushover whenever she looked at me with her big green eyes and adorable, long eyelashes, with just a hint of tears. She wore the pink dress. It was a long drive but an enjoyable excursion none the less. We stopped to eat and joked and sang along the way.

  Heather was happy with excitement and so was I. I loved to learn new things and see my daughter value nature. The park by the river had tables packed with exhibits and information and volunteers from River Friends were there to teach children an appreciation of the waterway and get adults involved with monitoring for pollution. The water by the foot deep banks danced by, clear and strong, showing off a rock-covered bottom. Volunteers waded out with a net, catching any creature floating by or living on the rocks.

  “You’re going to learn about macro invertebrates,” a teenage volunteer smiled at the group of thirty in attendance. “These are the insects big enough to be seen with the naked eye…we can judge the quality of the water by the creatures that live in it. The greater the diversity, the better the water quality.”

  The River Friends put the collection of water insects into trays and buckets and invited the children and adults to gather round and view them. There were dragonfly nymphs, riffle beetles, aquatic worms, and mayfly and stonefly nymphs in the trays we looked at. The aquatic worms freaked me out a little, wriggling around in the water and looking icky.

  Fishing around in a bucket, the young volunteer placed a dragonfly nymph in a magnifying viewer and handed it to Heather. “I can’t believe it’s a baby dragon Mommy. Look, isn’t she pretty?” One of my favorite insects, Heather had been taught that the lovely flying dragonfly with the iridescent wings does not sting and in fact helps people by eating mosquitoes. She had insisted on calling them dragons from the first day that she saw them. “Does fire come out of the mouths of the little dragons?’’ she wondered and I had informed her that sadly, no, that was not the case.

  I thought the nymph quite hideous looking, like the wriggling worms, nothing like the beautiful adults they turn out to be. “Reminds me of the Ugly Duckling story, honey,” I said. Baby dragonflies look like a scary mix of beetle and cockroach with a mutant tail. Hard to believe they would transform into flying creatures with lovely translucent wings.

  The teenage volunteer was still standing by us. “Did you know that they live in the water for years before they become adults?”

  “Really? No, I didn’t know that,” I replied, taking my eyes off Heather.

  In that brief instant, she walked to the river banks and stepped into the water. My heart skipped a beat and I screamed, “Heather, stop! Don’t go any farther!”

  She turned to me and smiled. The shining sun gave her skin a lustrous glow, like the little dragons she loved. “She wants to go home, Mommy,” she said. “I’m not putting her back in the bucket.” Once she made up her mind, that was it, she figured out how to open the top of the magnifying lens contraption holding the nymph and set it free in the river. “She’ll grow up to be a pretty little dragon. Maybe she’ll remember me.”

  The volunteer looked none too pleased as he took the magnifying holder from Heather. “Other people wanted to look you know,” he said, disapprovingly.

  “Sorry,” I said to him, hugging Heather, when really, I was proud of her and not sorry at all. She didn’t choose the pail for her friend. She choose freedom. I still wish I had told her that, perhaps it would have been s
omething she could have remembered about her mother.

  Her pink dress was now wet and dirty. She played by the river banks and got muddy, enjoying the day and watching adult dragonflies flit around the cattails catching mosquitoes. We lingered too long, the sunlight disappeared and we headed back home, in the darkness.

  Most of the drive was uneventful. Heather fell asleep, exhausted by a full day in the sun. I cursed my bad Irish luck when a tire went flat. My cursing, unusual for me at the time, woke up Heather and I contemplated what to do. My daughter had the misfortune to have a mother who did not know how to change a tire.

  Luckily, Sean had placed in the trunk a can of stuff you can hook up and spray into the tire that will get you where you’re going until the tire can be changed. I fumbled around trying to get it to work while Heather fretted from inside the car. “It’s so dark out Mommy, can you see?”

  “It’s fine, honey. Don’t worry. We’ll be going in a minute,” I answered, although it was frightening to be on the side of the road with no streetlights to help you see what you are doing. The strong moonlight had been just bright enough to guide me, however, I had no idea it was an omen of what was to come.

  What appeared to be a low, threatening growl came from the bushes about fifteen feet away from the car. I gazed in the direction, imagining a coyote protecting its den, when, with a shock, I saw glowing, menacing, crimson eyes peering at me from the bush. The growl became much louder and a mouth appeared below the eyes with huge, white fangs dripping with saliva.

  A car heading in the opposite direction slowed down as they approached us, blinding me for a second. The driver stopped and rolled down his window. I turned back to look at the bushes and no longer saw eyes or fangs--thinking it was my imagination I now feared for our safety from the two men who were in the car. “Do you need any help?” the driver asked, a handsome man who seemed truly concerned--it was my first meeting with Lance.

  Not knowing then that he was above reproach and could have saved us, I said, “No thanks, it’s under control,” as it really was, that shit in the can worked and the tire was now usable.

  “Okay, just so you know, this road isn’t safe at night. Keep your windows rolled up and don’t stop for anything.”

  What an odd thing to say, I thought, thanking him and waving goodbye. “We’ll be home soon, sweetheart. Let’s make peanut butter and jelly sandwiches when we get back.”

  “Yes, Mommy, that sounds good, I’m getting so hungry.”

  I saw the figure out of the corner of my eye, a shapeless form in the dark, running alongside the car. Heather saw it too and screamed, pointing. “Mommy, go faster! It’s a monster!”

  Pressing my foot down as hard as possible on the accelerator, I prayed the tire would hold. We sped ahead and I caught a glimpse of the thing behind us, scarlet eyes staring, white fangs anticipating. It appeared to have a smile on its face. My relief at our getaway quickly turned to panic and I had to slam on the brakes. The open road, and our escape route, was blocked by a huge log.

  “Fuck!” I shouted, and so began a lifetime of cursing. Heather was sobbing and shaking. I held her in my arms and covered her head. “I’m sorry, Heather,” I said, and I was, sorry for swearing and sorry for not getting us home. “Don’t look, honey, don’t look.”

  The thing slowly walked up to the car, on two legs. It was hairy and huge, like a Bigfoot with a malformed wolf face. It jumped on the hood, like a dog, and peered through the windshield, licking the glass. The mother-fucker was toying with us.

  It let out a blood-curdling howl and smashed its paw-fist into the glass. Heather screamed and looked at it in terror. The windshield cracked. It seemed to enjoy seeing our look of horror and it slowly ran its huge, sharp claws across the glass. “Get in the back!” I shouted at my little girl, but she was frozen with fear.

  The blasting of a car horn shook her out of her panic and she shrieked. The headlights of a car fast approaching us put a spotlight on the creature. The thing snarled and pounded both claws through the windshield, snatching Heather and pulling her out of my arms.

  “No!” I cried in anguish. I ran from the car, looking back at the two men who had offered us aid just minutes before, and yelled at them to help us. “It’s got my little girl!”

  The thing ran into the woods, Heather slung across its back. “Mommy, help me!” she cried. I ran for her life, my legs getting torn up by thorns, my face whipped by tree branches. My smart little girl grabbed at a tree branch and held on, the force was just enough to make the creature lose its grip on her. She fell to the ground and the thing turned to face me. I didn’t hesitate for a second.

  I ran, full strength, head down, and slammed into the hairy horror. It didn’t even budge. I began beating on it, flailing my arms, kicking, to no avail. Sensing my doom, I shouted at Heather, “Run! Run!” Knowing she wouldn’t want to leave me I yelled, “You have to go and get help!”

  That seemed to work. She began to run away. The thing fully, clearly, realized his little prey was escaping. He slowly looked me up and down with fury and grabbed me by my shoulders, squeezing, making any attempt at escape futile. He clamped down on my neck with his long, sharp fangs. The pain was excruciating but I did not scream--I didn’t want anything to stop Heather from running.

  The creature slammed me against a tree; fangs firmly entrenched in my neck. Its action seemed to play out in slow motion. He clamped down deeply; my blood flowed freely down my body. I could sense it was about to jerk its head back and tear out my throat. My last wish was of Heather running free, perhaps into the arms of the strangers in the car who could help her escape.

  I felt a pressure against the creature, pushing it even closer to my body. It released its fangs and looked up, startled, clutching at its chest. The tip of a sword protruded from its chest and it turned to face the killer who had run it through, causing it to release its death grip on me.

  I slowly fell down, the tree now my support as my body hit the ground. The blond stranger from the car slowly pulled the sword from the creature’s body. The thing growled. The stranger, moonlight shining on his handsome features, held the sword high and brought it down with a force that took off the creature’s head.

  I slumped against the tree; it was my sturdy sentry to death. I smiled at the stranger, sure now that my daughter was safe. I wanted to thank him but I choked on the blood in my mouth.

  “Percy, my son, has your little girl,” he told me softly. “She’s fine.”

  The other stranger appeared before me, holding Heather in his arms. “The girl is not bitten or even scratched, Father,” he said to the man who knelt beside me. “What will we do about her?” he inquired, looking at me.

  Swallowing the blood so I could utter a few words to my hero, I forced out a whisper, “Please, don’t let her watch me die.”

  Touching my head, he said, “You’re not going to die, you’ll be feeling better in a few moments.”

  “It would be better for her if she did die,” Percy said brusquely, “we should put her out of her misery.” Heather seemed to be in shock, her eyes were wide with terror, looking straight ahead, seeing none of us. I could do nothing to comfort her.

  “Percy! Take the child back to the car--we’ll be there shortly.”

  Percy, standing tall and with the same attractive features as his father but with darker hair and eyes, shot me a vile look and said, “Very well, Father, but as usual, I think you’re making a mistake.”

  The kind stranger held my hand. “My name is Lance. We were patrolling this area looking for the werewolf. Percy had a feeling we should turn the car around. I’m sorry we didn’t find him in time to save you.”

  “You saved my little girl, that’s good enough for me. I can die peacefully knowing she will live,” I said, the blood curiously now absent from my mouth, “my name is Nola Marrs, please get her to her father.”

  “I told you, you’re not going to die. You’ve been bitten by a werewolf. I’m sorry, but you will beco
me what he was, every month when the moon is full,” he said sadly, his blue eyes brimming with tenderness.

  “No fucking way!” I blurted, with my new found fondness for cursing.

  “You have a month to prepare yourself. I can help you. We can offer you sanctuary.”

  “I don’t want your fucking sanctuary! This is bullshit! I’m getting my daughter and we’re going home!” I said, feeling strong and full of ferocity. I stood up, knowing in my heart that he was telling me the truth--there was no longer any blood flowing from my wound, in fact, the gash itself was almost gone.

  Looking down where the werewolf’s body had fallen, I viewed the body of a naked man, his head nearby, a look of peace in his dead eyes. “Who was he?” I asked Lance, quietly accepting as truth what he’d told me. My attacker had been a werewolf. I would become one in a month.

  “Just an unfortunate person, like yourself, once attacked by a werewolf. We offered him sanctuary…he didn’t accept our offer.” His words needed no reply. Clearly, death was the result for those who refused Lance’s offer of help.

  “You no longer live in the same world,” Lance told me. “Your eyes have been opened to what has been hidden. Werewolves are real and vampires exist,” he said with a click of his teeth, fangs appearing, causing my body to shake with fear. Did he save me from the werewolf so he could kill me?

  He gently laid a hand on my shoulder. “You don’t have to be afraid of me or Percy--we don’t harm humans, in fact, it is our quest to protect them from destruction. However, there is a vampire Illuminati that is very dangerous, you don’t want to cross their path or let them know you exist.”

  We silently walked back to my car. Percy had placed Heather inside and was moving the downed tree from the road as if it were only a toothpick. “We’ll have to call a tow truck, I suppose,” Percy said, “and drop them off.” He took out a pen and paper from his jacket and pointedly wrote down my license plate number. “For the tow truck,” he said to me but I knew better. They intended to come after me when my month was up.