Stephenie Meyer owns The Twilight Saga
I'm only playing with her characters.
Welcome to my newest fic that isn't a one-shot! The summary might seem a little choppy but what're you gonna do with 255 characters, am I right?
Plus, the plot of the story basically tells itself in this first chapter.
This is a story with guns, action, and killing. All the good stuff.
There will be blood (and I might drink your milkshake, if you get the reference).
A knock came from the front door. Charlie jumped up from the chair while I muted the television. His hand went for the pistol at the base of his spine as he approached the door, sounding normal as ever as he called out, "I'm coming, hold your horses!" My left hand slid in the crack the cushions made to curl around the pistol concealed there, ready to hit the safety and pull it at any second.
Charlie peered through the peephole, stepped back, and opened the door just enough to let a plump woman inside. Charlie slammed the door once she cleared the threshold.
"God, Sue, you scared us," Charlie complained while he relocked the door. "I thought we agreed on a special knock."
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I couldn't remember it with the Bloodmobile so close," she replied, tucking her graying hair behind her ear.
"It's already out there? I thought we might've had more time to prepare."
She laid a comforting hand on his shoulder. "You can only do so much, Charlie. Don't push yourself."
She was right, Charlie was doing way too much that sometimes he barely got two hours of sleep. Since Harry Clearwater's death—they said it was a heart attack, we say they killed him when they caught him—my dad had taken on the responsibility of leading the resistance.
Everyone needed him for something at all times of the day, I was surprised he hadn't split himself into hundreds of pieces. He had to keep everything covered; he didn't want to disappoint Harry by losing a single inch of ground. We needed all the defense we could get against them.
Who are they? The most despicable creatures on earth. Vampires.
Forks, Washington used to be a good place. People were friendly, great scenery for tourists—everyone lived their lives peacefully. At least, those were the fairytales I heard. Vampires rose to dominance in Forks before I was born, but Charlie always told me stories about how much fun it was to hike in the woods without fear of being killed.
My mother, Renee, used to live in Forks, but she ran off in the middle of the night when she found out she was pregnant with me. Two months later the vampires came out to the public of Forks, Seattle and Port Angeles—nowhere else. In everyone else's world vampires are just myth.
They're the lucky ones.
Once vampires became public knowledge the death toll spiked. People wanted to kill them to protect their families, but they had armies, and they are stronger and faster than humans so they fought back in full force. Before long, humans became a minority, slaves to the vampires. We all worked for the vamps in this town. Renee had no idea what she was sending me into; she thought it was still safe, sleepy Forks. She didn't know it turned into a battlefield.
When I showed up on Charlie's doorstep he wanted me to go home to Renee, but word had traveled quickly about my arrival. Someone from the vamp side showed up and marked me that night. Every human who lived in Forks had the mark—an elegant V tattooed on the back of our necks. I was stuck in Forks forever.
I pulled my hand out from between the cushions as Charlie and Sue came back into the living room. She gave me a weary smile and I returned it with the same enthusiasm. Tonight may have been important but it was also the night we all dreaded. It was a breakout night, the very first under Charlie's command.
After the last failure, some time before Harry's leadership, they were scheduled every few years to prevent damage to our numbers. Members of the resistance were caught and tortured for months until they were returned to their families as empty shells. Those gruesome stories always ended in suicide.
Our last breakout was two years ago, a failed attempt that lost us fourteen people. The vampires knew what they were doing and caught key members; it was a huge hit to our morale. Charlie spent his time carefully planning the quickest escape. He thought he might have found the problem. This time we weren't going north for a connection in Port Angeles. Charlie wanted to confuse the vampires by fleeing straight south, into Oregon. We would meet at a secret rendezvous to fly from Oregon to California, where the sun would keep us safe. He guaranteed as long as we stayed well defended at night and moved in the sunlight we had a chance.
A very, very small chance.
"Turn up the game, would you, sport?" Charlie asked as we listened to the familiar rumble of the Bloodmobile's engine. I hit the volume of the TV playing a pre-recorded football game, straining to hear where the car was going.
Breakouts were always scheduled on donation days. Calling it a "donation" was a lie, they took however much blood they wanted, but it made it sound nice to the visitors who didn't know. We chose these days because the majority of vampires were at their main compound awaiting the Bloodmobile's return with its fresh stock of blood. Without them patrolling the streets we were free to run.
"Who do you think will win?" he asked with fake enthusiasm. The engine cut off two houses away. It wouldn't be long.
"The orange guys," I answered, nervously adjusting the shoulder strap of my holster. It was custom made to fit me like a glove and hold my gun securely, but I couldn't help touching it when I was nervous. "They've had a good season so far."
He scoffed as noise picked up outside; fists pounding on wood, arguments. "You might have them confused for someone else. They have yet to win a game." Doors slammed. He nodded. Sue and I moved to the kitchen, closer to the basement.
"Whatever. Hey Dad, want another beer?" I called, opening the fridge. Sue pulled out the container of bleach from the empty racks and skillfully spread it on the floor, covering our scent. It would follow us into the basement and confuse their sense of smell.
"Sure, kiddo, that'd be great." Right on cue the fists were on our door. "Hold on, there's someone at the door." As if he didn't know who it was.
Sue and I were already quietly moving down the basement stairs, door barred behind us; it wouldn't keep them out but it would slow them down. There would be two vamps at the door but Charlie was sure he could handle them; as long as we used the passageway to the sewers he was happy. His plan was to kill the vamps and steal the Bloodmobile, picking up the few humans who couldn't get out on his way out of town. The Bloodmobile was an ambulance—he could move quickly.
Sue, on the other hand, could not. She was getting on in years, she'd already had two surgeries for her bad hip, and we were going to be stuck in the dark for a while. Flashlights or not, she would slow me down. We were set to separate at the first fork, where she would go left and meet up with her kids, but I was worried for her. She was like a mother to me in this demented place, if anything happened to her I would blame myself. I didn't think she even had a gun on her.
Footsteps pounded above in a normal rhythm just as we found the ancient bookcase blocking the tunnel. The tunnel had once been a bomb shelter until Harry and Charlie found out it was next door to the sewers; they converted it so it connected for an escape route, in case of emergencies. My scrawny muscles slowly moved it out of the way to reveal the dank dome corridor beyond. We reached the large steel door at the same time a gunshot went off. Sue watched my back as I fiddled with the combination on the lock, nearly forgetting the numbers in my panic, and yanked the door open. I snatched my flashlight back from her, drew my gun, and started into the sewer.
A crack rang down the corridor. Sue pushed me forward when I stopped, ready to turn and fire. They only broke through the basement door. I couldn't even see them but I was willing to shoot.
"Don't stop!" she whispered. "Don't stop for anything!"
"They're breaking through already!" I whisper-screamed.
"Well what are you waiting for? Get running."
"I'm not leaving you behind!"
"My children are waiting just up ahead, I'll be fine. You stay on your path. Go—now!" She pushed me again, roughly, propelling me forward at a dead run.
If their already moving on us, what did that mean for Charlie? Was he okay? They could easily—no, don't think about it, just run. Run like Charlie wanted.
My feet sloshed, my eyes and lungs burned, but I couldn't stop my legs if I tried; it was drilled into my head from a young age how to survive here. There was no screaming behind me yet, but Sue didn't seem like the type.
Subconsciously I knew they were behind me, tracking me by the noise I made, watching my light bounce on the tunnel walls. We chose the sewers for a reason. Not because of the handy tunnel hidden in the house—we were originally going to use it as a decoy—but because the vampires were crippled down here. They could see better in the dark but the sludge would slow them down, the stench would cover me, and by the way sound carries if they made a noise I would know. I wasn't sure if I could pull a trigger faster than they could move, but I would try.
I came to the first fork and made my way down the right side. There was another fork ahead that I had to take left then I was on the homestretch to my rendezvous. Mike Newton, who was skilled in the art of dangerous driving, was waiting with two others and would drive us towards Oregon. I couldn't wait for my first taste of freedom in nine years. Even high school would be welcome in my world, as long as there were no vampires.
After the second turn I slowed to take in a sickening lungful of the damp air, wiping the sweat off my forehead. If they were pursuing they would have caught up by now. They weren't that slow. When I had enough breath, I continued at a brisk walk, listening to every slosh my feet made, every drop of water hit the sludge. Just because they weren't here now didn't mean they wouldn't show up. They knew I was here. They heard me in the house, and no way would they mistake Sue for me. Unless we had a lucky night and amateurs came to our door.
I cut off my light, conserving battery life. The service lights were bright enough in this area that I could walk comfortably—well, as comfortably as possible with my boots filled with raw sewage.
Think happy thoughts. I'll get a change of clothes, and shoes, when I meet up with Mike. No shower until roughly four hours later when we stopped in Rainier just passed the state line. Four hours smelling like an outhouse was nothing when freedom was that close.
A heavy scrape made my steps falter. They were moving a manhole cover. They knew exactly where I was going.
I hit the safety on my pistol as I ran. Bodies dropped into the sludge behind me—two of them, by the sounds of it, which was no surprise since they often traveled in pairs. I begged my aching legs not to give. They were picking up speed but my exit was just up ahead. I saw the glaring red paint smeared on the brick, exactly where I marked it last week in preparation of tonight.
Climbing was going to slow me down, but I'd already dropped my flashlight, left hand cramped around my gun; I could climb and shoot to ward them off. The rendezvous point was just beyond the line of trees above ground. I made it to the ladder, braced my foot on the last rung and pushed, jumping to catch the highest I could reach. A hand caught my leg and pulled me down. My jaw caught on the steel so hard my teeth clicked together, my head ringing.
I was tossed onto my back in the sludge with two shadowy figures above me. My hand instinctively flew out and shot one in the chest; he staggered back but his friend wasn't happy. The wild-haired one leapt on me. I held out my foot and used her momentum to fling her over my head; she landed with a meaty squish in the distance.
The man had noticed my bullet didn't kill him but it was too late. I was already on my feet. He was heads taller than me but range makes up for it easily. I fired at the back of his skull and, turning to intercept my attack, it luckily caught him in the temple. With wide eyes he dropped face first into the sewage and I climbed over his body, watching for the woman.
There was no movement. I had to hurry before the man's body healed itself—bullets never killed vampires. I scrambled up the ladder, holstered my gun to move the lid, and jumped into the crisp night air.
My muscles were at their breaking point. I saw Mike's familiar form propped against a tree near the streetlight. I could feel him watching me, knew his gun was at his side having heard my struggle. Squishy noises came from the tunnel and I pulled my legs out of the hole in time avoid the woman as she barreled up the ladder.
Mike was instantly at my side to pull me to my feet. She charged at Mike so I had enough time to pull my gun free. I couldn't get a bead with the way she moved—all that vampiric feline grace and footwork that suggested she was a dancer sometime in her life—and I didn't want to hit Mike. I had to wait until she slowed down.
She grabbed him around the neck, slammed him onto the concrete. I thought I heard his skull crack until I noticed his hand coated in red; he sunk a knife between her ribs, trying to get her heart, and she screamed with pain and terror.
"Now!" he shouted over her screeching. He held her down as she twisted. She was only driving the blade further.
I raised my gun with exhausted muscles, a fine trembling running through my arms, and fired at her head. The kick was stronger than usual; my shot went wide. I fixed my grip and steeled my nerves, focusing on the flesh just between her eyes and pulled the trigger. Blood splattered onto Mike's face as he wrenched the blade through her chest; it was long enough that the tip stuck out her back.
He pulled the blade free when she stopped moving, happy to see her chest ravaged, and set it against her neck, dragging it back in a sharp motion. I flinched and turned my back at the sound of her head detaching from her body. Well, at least that makes one less vamp.
"Do we have to clean up the mess?" I mumbled as I slid my gun back into its holster.
"There's another in the sewers, isn't there?" he asked.
"Figures. You're a wicked shot but regular ammo does nothing against these beasts."
"Well it's not like their affected by holy water. It'd be nice if that sewer was full of it. Have you smelled me recently?"
"You smell like a bed of roses to me. Come on, we have to get moving before her partner decides to wake up and take revenge." He slid the small sword into a sheath on his hip as he went towards the tree line. I covered the manhole before joining him.
Hiding in the trees was Mike's black SUV, Tyler Crowley, and Sue's youngest child Seth. It was surprising to see him here since he was supposed to wait for his mom with Leah. I ran up to him, trying to hold back my panic.
"What happened? Is Sue okay?" I asked.
He shrugged. "I guess so. Sam showed up to help your dad and brought her through looking a little beat up. He told me to head out with you guys, and to tell you your dad made it out without a scratch."
I smiled with relief. Yeah, my dad was hardcore like that. "Thanks, Seth."
Without another word we climbed into the hulking vehicle. I got shotgun because I called it two nights ago and no one was going to argue now. Seth passed me a box of baby wipes and a plastic grocery store bag with my change of clothes. I gratefully accepted the gifts and stripped while Mike got us on the road. Was I worried, or nervous, about being half naked in front of three guys? Nope. We'd all been friends since childhood, often thrown together in the bathtub as kids, and we were all in survival mode. They were too busy watching for incoming attacks to even think about a girl covered in crap trying to make herself decent.
As I vigorously scrubbed with the wipes, I caught sight of the clock. One-thirty in the morning. Only twenty minutes had passed. I seriously had someone to thank for creating short tunnels.
In twenty minutes, the exact estimated time, over a hundred people should have been moved from Forks. Unfortunately we couldn't take everyone in a single night, but if we survived, whoever was left behind had hope of getting out, as well. Idly I wondered if anyone else got a kill tonight. Getting deadlier weapons was definitely top priority on our list. They could be incapacitated by normal bullets if shot near the heart or in the head, but short of cutting off their head, we had no good ways to kill vampires. It was only one step on our way because we certainly weren't done. We weren't running from Forks just to get out and abandon everyone—oh no, we were coming back for sure.
We planned to take back our town.