"Who are they?" I asked. The mansion was obviously a landmark of some kind, and somebody had been working at restoring the building.
Julie raised her hand. "I'm the Heart of Dixie Historical Preservation Society." She smiled wickedly. "Since it's a non-profit organization, all a perfectly legal front, and I technically don't live here, it sure does save me a bunch of money in property taxes."
"So you're a tax evader too?" I mumbled around a mouthful of eggs. "Groovy."
"There are only a handful of people who know about this house, and most of them wear a green smiley face on their armor or their last name is Shackleford." She went back to eating. Julie appeared to be starved, and she should be considering how much blood she had lost yesterday. She paused, swallowed and continued, "And I've got this place rigged with one hell of a security system. If anything drives, walks, slithers or lands on this property, we'll know. There's also a hidden armory in the basement stocked with stuff that would have been confiscated when we got shut down last time, and the compound is only about fifteen minutes away. If we get attacked, we'll just need to hold out that long."
"Will your security system detect vampires?" I asked.
"Probably. As far as we know they still need to walk like anything else. There has never been any actual documented case of them turning into bats or mist like in Dracula, only superstitions say that they can shape-shift. But remember, they can't come into a home unless they're invited. That's the rule."
"Why is that anyway?" I asked. "I mean, I've seen it in the movies, but that doesn't really make any sense."
"Nobody knows. But it seems to be a rule with vampires. Other undead don't seem to care, but it does affect vamps," she said. "Unless you let them in, they can't enter."
"But they came into Dr. Turley's house and killed him and his wife. And he was still in bed. They couldn't have been invited. Or what about the attack in Atlanta?"
"Atlanta was a party. All it would take is a single invited guest to let one in. You guys have only seen newly created vamps. The old ones can be pretty darn charming, and they look just like humans unless they're about to feed. As for the Turleys, who knows? Any indication of invitation would probably do." She forked another piece of egg and dipped it in ketchup. "Did they have a door mat or any signs that may have said welcome, or something like that?"
I nodded as I remembered the Turley home's open rear door, along with the mud stained welcome mat. I swore that I would never own one of those things again.
"Gargoyles?" Trip asked.
"I've got a Barrett.50, a 20mm Lahti, and some grenade launchers in the armory. Also an RPG and for the worst-case scenario, a Spig 9. After we eat, I'll break those out and dust them off. I'm going to need help getting the Spig up the stairs," Julie said. I did not know what a Spig 9 was, but if it was in fact a gun that she needed help to even move, I was very excited.
"What about the CO?" Holly asked. I did not like the abbreviated name. After having seen him, and feeling a taste of his power, calling the evil creature something so innocuous seemed a little silly. The residents of Tokyo didn't call Godzilla "Big G."
"Unknown quantity," Julie stated. "We have no idea what would work on him. It could be something as simple as just shooting him full of holes, or lighting him on fire, or blowing him up, I don't know. Some monsters are hard to kill." She looked at me for help.
I shrugged. "Beats me. The Old Man won't or can't tell me that. I'll say this though. I don't expect him to go easy. I've got a feeling that he's going to be one mean son of a bitch."
Julie finished her breakfast and pushed the plate away. I dished myself a second helping. Trip sipped his coffee. Holly made sure her sidearm was still there.
"One last thing," Julie said. She was fully confident, and back in command mode. "If they find us. If we get attacked. And we can't beat them or hold them off until help arrives. If and only if the bad guys are about to take Dad away, then we have no choice. Kill him. And do it in a way that they can't bring him back. Shoot him in the head, and burn him." She said this casually, as if she was telling us about the weather. "It's one thing to kill monsters, but it's another to have human blood on your hands… If we have to do it, if possible I'll do it myself. My family, my business… Everybody okay with that?"
The rest of us nodded dumbly.
Julie scooped up a plate of rapidly cooling eggs and sausage and passed it over to me. "You had best take him some food. He's probably starved. Tell him I send my regards."
Ray Shackleford was sitting on his bed, one wrist handcuffed to the wrought-iron headboard. He regarded me sullenly as I entered. His gray hair was wild, and he had a black eye and bruises from where I had hit him. At least he seemed coherent now.
"I brought you some food," I said. I did not add that I had only supplied him with a plastic fork.
"Let me loose, kid," he ordered.
"Can't do that. This is for your own protection."
"Fine, then I'll take a dump on the floor."
I had not thought about that, but then again I had never kidnapped a crazy person before either. I set the food down on a dresser and removed the handcuff key from my pocket. There was an attached bathroom, there was only one way in, and the window over the shower was too small to squeeze out of. I checked the bathroom for any hidden weapons (this was Julie's house after all), but found nothing.
"Okay, fine. But if you try anything stupid, I will beat you down. I'm just itching for a reason to get my violence on. Got it?"
"Fine. Just hurry up." I unlocked the cuffs and waited patiently as he made his way to the bathroom. He closed the door behind him. I opened it.
"Nope. I don't trust you."
"Fine. Suit yourself… freak."
I waited while he took care of business. Once he had washed his hands and pulled back his hair, I escorted him back to the bed and put the cuffs back on. He gave me no trouble. I passed the food over and he gobbled it down messily.
"You knocked me out," he said between bites. "If I was in the shape I used to be, I would have kicked your ass."
"Whatever you have to tell yourself," I said.
"Don't get cocky. I've been around guys like you. I know your type. You're hired muscle. Just a trigger puller. I bet Earl brought you on because you're good at hurting things. You know what? That don't make you special. Hurting things is easy. Understanding them is hard."
"I don't like to complicate things. I see the monster. I shoot the monster. There. Nice and simple," I said.
"Let me let you in on a little secret, kid. Guys like you are a dime a dozen. A real Hunter understands his prey. He knows how they think. He succeeds where others fail because he knows the monster better than he knows himself. I was the best Hunter we've ever had because of that."
"Whoever fights monsters should see to it that in the process he does not become a monster…" I said.
"And when you look long into an abyss, the abyss also looks into you. Ahh… an educated man. Well, you're not as stupid as you look. Don't quote Nietzsche at me, kid. That German crackpot wouldn't know a real monster if it bit him on the ass."
Actually I hated philosophy. I had memorized the quote from the intro of a video game. "You about done?" I asked.
"Julie told me a little about you. You're the dreamer. You've been having visions. You want what I've got up here." He tapped the side of his head with his fork, leaving ketchup in his hair. "You want me to help you find Lord Machado."
"Pretty much."
"I can do it, you know. The other Hunters can read those old books forever, but they ain't gonna answer your questions. It isn't what you read, it's putting the information together in your head like a puzzle. Only when you're all done can you really see the picture. I've had lots of time on my hands for the last six years. I've sat in a padded cell all day long with nothing to do but put those puzzles together. I can see the whole picture now. You fools are still trying to find your corner pieces and sorting them out by color."
"Is there a point to this, or are you just trying to get me to punch you in the head some more?"
"Here's the point: I can help you. I can tell you where and when Lord Machado is going to use his artifact. I can tell you what to do. I can tell you how to stop him. I can even tell you how to kill him. The dead guy in your head can't answer those questions, but I can."
"So why don't you just tell me what I need to know?"
"Because, kid, what's in it for me?"
"The world doesn't get destroyed. That sounds kind of beneficial don't you think?"
"I tell you. You tell Earl. You guys kill Lord Machado and the seven. You save the world, cash big fat checks. You get to be heroes. I go back to Appleton and rot in a cell until the day I die. You want my help, you let me go and I'll tell you everything I know."
"And I'm just supposed to let somebody who opened a gate to hell in the middle of Alabama walk free."
"I learned from my mistakes. I won't do that again. I'm not as crazy as everybody thinks I am. I know the score. Let me loose, I promise not to meddle in that business again; I'll just disappear off the radar and nobody needs to know where I went. I've got money, fake IDs, passports, all stashed. You let me go, and nobody ever hears from me again. I'll go down to Mexico and sip margaritas on the beach with pretty senoritas."
"I'll run that past your daughter."
"Julie's squeamish. She's a goody two-shoes like her mother. Believe me. I've learned from my mistakes. I'm done. Earl will tell you no. My dad will say no. They don't trust me. My offer is to you, kid. Think about it." He smiled hopefully. I did not trust him as far as I could throw him.
"How about you give me a little information up front? Let me see if what you know is worth it."
"I give you enough pieces of the puzzle, you'll figure it out yourself. You won't need me and I go back to Appleton. On good days maybe I get to play Ping-Pong in leg irons with Dr. Nelson. Look out the window while crazy people whine about what monsters did to them. Like those pussies know jack squat about real torment. Whoopee. No way, kid. I talk. I walk. That's the deal."
"Screw you, Ray." I took his empty plate and walked away.
"Wait!" he cried. I paused with my hand on the doorknob. "You have to understand. I can't go back there." I opened the door. "Stop. Listen. I tried to bring my wife back. Is that so wrong? I loved her. I know I made a mistake. I was desperate. You would do the same. I loved her too much to let her go. I know not to try again. I saw things in that rift. Things you can't even begin to understand. I know what's out there. My mind is scarred worse than your face. Believe me. I promise that it won't happen again."
"Good-bye, Ray. I'll send somebody up around lunch for a bathroom break." I stepped out the door into the hall.
"Wait! Don't leave me alone! You want some information. Fine," he shouted. I paused. "There is no real Place of Power. It isn't a fixed piece of geography. There's a nexus of magical energy. The place is where those lines intersect. They are always moving. They are always changing. But I know where and when they are. Those professors that got killed, it's because some of the dead cultures they studied had their fingers on the puzzle. They maybe had bits and pieces. I can see the whole puzzle. I can see the picture. I can even see the box the pieces came in. It's going to happen at the full moon."
"Tell me more, Ray."
"You have three days before the concept of linear time becomes obsolete. Lord Machado thinks he knows what he's doing, but he's wrong. The world you know is going to cease to exist. Billions will die, and the handful that survive are going to be nothing more than cattle living in a blinded stupor. Mankind is going to be nothing but food and entertainment for the Old Ones. You had better think about my offer, kid. The clock is ticking. In three days it stops. Forever."
"Your dad made me an offer," I told Julie when I found her on the main floor. She must have gotten bored after cleaning and hauling up all of the interesting weapons from the basement, because she had busied herself by returning to her renovations.
"Make yourself useful and hold this." She handed me the end of a tape measure. "Put it against that edge there." She walked a few steps and lowered the tape to the floor. She took a pencil from behind an ear and marked a spot on the floor. "I need more flooring. I've got enough to finish the front hall, but not the main entryway."
"You don't want to hear his offer?" I asked. I think that I already knew the answer to that one.
"Let me guess. Let me go. I promise to be good. No more demon summoning. Blah, blah, blah. I'll tell you what you need to know." She let the tape measure snap closed in her hand and dropped it into a pocket.
"Pretty much. But he did say that the Cursed One is going to strike on the full moon. That gives us just three days."
"Not much time. Figures. Bad stuff always goes down on the full moon. How did this get here?" She bent down to pick up a belt sander that was lying on the floor. Grunting in sudden pain, she paused, and slowly stood back up. "Forgot. Big hole in my shoulder. Would you grab that for me? I need to put it away."
I picked up the sander. "You should take it easy."
She shook her head. "I can't. I'm a little tense. My insane dad is upstairs, in the home that I grew up in. It's just a bit awkward is all… I like working on the house. It keeps my mind off of things, you know?" I nodded. "It helps me to keep busy. I feel better when I'm improving something."
The whole mansion was torn apart. Every room that I had been in so far had some project begun in it, but very few had been finished. Apparently Julie had a lot of things that she did not want to dwell on.
"You seem to be pretty good at it," I said. That was true enough. The work that was finished appeared to be meticulous and professional. Which was not really a surprise considering what I knew about Julie Shackleford's nature.
"Thanks." She paused uncomfortably. "Enough about my dingbat father. I'm just glad he didn't stab you with his plastic fork."
"I did check the bathroom for guns before I let him go."
"Beat you to it." She reached into her back pocket and pulled out a.38 Detective Special. "Bathroom number three gun. I've got them stashed all over."
"You really are my kind of girl."
She smiled. "Thanks. Most regular people think I'm insane."
"Screw regular people. They suck." It was good to hear her laugh again. "Since you're too injured to lay floor, how about a tour of the Heart of Dixie Historical Preservation Society headquarters?"
"That I can do. And by the way, I never said thanks for saving my life from that gargoyle. That was a little too close." She absently touched the bandage on the side of her head.
"No big deal. That was some pretty good driving."
"If that jackass in the truck would have just let us pass, I could have lost them."
"Jerk," I agreed.
"Tour?" she asked.
"Gladly."