Shane exited the cave dripping foul ichor. The bonus would be good for this job.
Back at the van everyone pulled security while one person stripped out of the smelly battle gear and used a sponge and a bucket to clean up a bit before slipping into dry civilian clothes.
The ride back to HQ was uneventful. The big Cummins turbodiesel lulled the passengers into sleep quickly with its low steady thrum.
Shane's cell went off. A quick look down from the windshield showed it was MHI main HQ.
Shane tapped the bluetooth earpiece on and said, “Shane here, talk to me.”
“Shane, it's Marvin.” The voice on the other end sounded like a cigarette smoker about ready to keel over with laughter. “Good news, another nest of vampires has set up outside Forks trying to feed off the Twilight crowd.”
“Again?” Shane muttered, “That's the third nest this year.”
Marvin chuckled. “The boss says that predators go where the prey is, and he wants this taken care of ASAP”
“Roger, but we are about four hours away from Forks by road, and it's two hours driving in the wrong direction to get back to HQ local for refit.”
Shane could here Marvin clacking away furiously at the keyboard on the other end.
“Ok, where do you stand on ammo?”
“We are 50% 308, 20% 5.56, bingo on 45 and 12 guage”. Shane rattled off the numbers from the consolidation after clearing the cave.
“Do you know where Elma is?” Marvin asked.
“Sure, it's about 45 minutes from here, 30 if I take the back roads”.
“I'll email an address to your email. Plug it into the GPS. The guy there will either have what you need, or have it arriving when you get there.” Marvin chuckled.
“Alright, whatever.” Shane muttered.
Marvin disconnected and Shane woke Yuri to work the GPS.
********
On the hills opposite two nuclear cooling towers Shane pulled the Dodge 4x4 van into a house near the end of a dead end street. A single light lit up the gravel driveway. A ratty Geo Metro and rusted International Scout II parked off to the side. The garage door opened, spreading a large rectangle of light into the black Pacific Northwest night.
A large man came out, he looked like a dwarf made human size. His chest was broad enough for two men and his red beard was trimmed neatly into a sinister goatee.
“You friends of Marvin?” The man asked in a surprisingly rich tenor baritone.
“Wouldn't call us friends exactly.” Shane replied through the drivers window, “But he gave us your address”.
“Well come on in and we'll see what we can do for you.” The man turned back into the garage. Shane and the rest exited the van and followed inside.
The garage felt like home immediately. A welding station occupied on corner with a workbench going half the length of one wall. Off the top of his head Shane recognized parts for Mausers, AK's, and AR-15's mixed in with various shotgun barrels and random magazines.
“We need ammo mostly.” Shane said.
“I've got a crapload of milsurp 5.56.” Redbeard said. “But my little bro is on his way with some handloads. Should be here any minute now.” He opened a large footlocker set against the wall and said, “Help yourself.”
Normal ammunition isn't terribly effective against the undead. But it sure beats spit balls. The crew quickly got to work slapping stripper clips into loading spoons and topping off empty magazines.
Shane stopped for a second and looked at the ammo he was loading. Black tip? “Where did you get black tip ammo?”
“My little bro.” Redbeard chuckled. “He even had the chaplain bless it.”
Before Shane could ponder exactly what that meant the sound of a V8 engine announced the arrival of another vehicle. Looking outside Shane saw a faded GMC pickup being driven by Redbeards little brother. Little meant years obviously. While not as thick through the chest as Redbeard he was still plenty imposing. The sterile ACU's, clean shave, and high and tight made him look like a soldier. Maybe that was what Redbeard meant by having the chaplain bless the ammo.
“Yo” The little brother shared the same red hair. “Brought ammo. Who needs what?”
Shane spoke up “308” as George and Kasey chimed in “45” and “12 guage” at the same time.
“Alright, we'll start with 45.” He left and came back in with two 50 cal ammo cans. “I've got two flavors, cast 1:20 silver/lead dum dums and lignum vitae stuffed hollowpoints.” The ammo cans were opened to hundreds of rounds of loose packed ammo. The cast dum dum rounds were a dull grey with a cross cut into the nose of each conical bullet. The stuffed hollowpoints looked like any other commercial ammunition except for the dark circle of wood where the empty space should have been.
Magazines were loaded, Yuri alternating between dum dum and wood filled hollowpoints for his greasegun.
Redbeard brought out hot coffee. The aroma was enticing. The flavor was rich and dark. “Columbian?” Shane asked.
Redbeard shook his head, “Sumatra.”
Little Brother brought in two 30 Cal ammo cans to Shane. “Have two flavors of 308, standard 147gr ball and 168gr match. I've lathe turned the 168 hollow tip to 25 thousandths so it will open up that much quicker.”
Shane began filling his bandoleer with 147 gr ball.
A third trip to the truck brought in four 50 Cal ammo cans filled with 12 guage ammo. “Once again, I've got two flavors...oak slugs or sliver plated buckshot.”
Bandoleers quickly filled.
A blond middle aged woman with a kind smile brought out a platter of sandwiches and cookies to the garage. The food disappeared in quick bites and was washed down by the excellent coffee.
“All right, unless you guys need anything else, we'll follow you out there and set up far side security to handle any squirters.” Little brother said.
All activity stopped. You NEVER worked with an unknown team. Even inside MHI you never just threw two teams together to go on a mission if you could avoid it.
Little bro looked around. “I don't like it any better than you. But this objective is a rats nest of exploratory tunnels stuck in the middle of the only temperate rain forest on the continent. My bro and I will form a two man sniper team to isolate the eastern edge of the objective. We have thermals so we won't shoot anything above ambient temperature.”
“I still don't like it” Shane said, looking dead at Redbeard.
“You don't have to like it” Redbeard replied easily. “But you wonder why this is the third time this year that a nest has popped up in Forks? The lead vamp keeps getting away when MHI shows up.”
“Fine” George replied.
The drive out to Forks took a long time, Shane wondered about the two brothers who shared ammo and wanted to kill vamps. They looked like they could handle themselves, but looks don't mean much. Audie Murphy was five foot nothin and a hundred forty nothin. Shane watched the old GMC pickup turn off behind the van and begin the process of lumbering up a logging road to the isolation position.
Whoever those brothers were, they had at least a two mile hike ahead of them.
In the pickup Redbeard squirted some lube into the bolt carrier group of his AR. Lightweight, built on a Cav Arms polymer lower and A1 style thin barrel the rifle itself weighed in at five and a half pounds. The 37mm “flare” launcher sitting under the barrel added to the weight and made it a good spotters weapon. Especially when you could make flare rounds with no parachute, good direct fire weapon for vamps.
Little brothers weapon was a “Saiganov” that Redbeard had assembled in the garage. Topped with a 6x40 Nimrod Scope calibrated for 168gr match ammo and able to take high cap magazines it held 1.25 MOA easily out to 600 meters.
The brothers parked the truck and force marched the final two miles to the clear cut overlooking the valley where the vamps would likely flee from the MHI team. Little Bro pulled several “space blankets” from his assault pack and used a thermal camo tarp to make a sniper hide specifically to avoid detection by vamps. The space blankets underneath, front and sides would reflect their warm body heat up into the sky. Vegetation would break up the metallic mylar material.
A text message to Redbeards cell phone let them know that the operation had begun. Beginning morning nautical twilight had begun, and Little Bro scanned for movement in the valley below.
Nothing happened for ten minutes. Then fifteen. Finally Redbeard whispered, “500 meters, coming out of the woodline just past the stream bed.”
Little bro oriented his rifle and gently squeezed the trigger. Recoil shoved into his shoulder as he began leading a second vamp by three mils before squeezing the trigger again.
Redbeard whispered “Hit one, hit two”. The woodline remained empty. Redbeard sent a text message updating Marvin to the action.
“Why if it isn't a nice morning snack” A voice to the rear spoke with dark amusement.
“Damn” both brothers spoke at the same time, rolling in opposite directions and drawing pistols. As fast as they were the vamp was faster, grabbing the Taurus 357 Magnum revolver out of Redbeards hand and grasping his wrists. With unhuman strength the vamp began to bend Redbeards arms down to his side.
Little Bro's Springfield barked twice, 200 grains of wood filled hollowpoint slamming into the vamps shoulder and neck. The holes didn't bleed, but they sapped the vamps strength as he tried to heal himself without the use of fresh blood. Redbeard's arms pushed back against the vamp. “Again! SHOOT HIM AGAIN” Redbeard yelled.
Little Bro emptied six more rounds into the vamps chest. Redbeard threw the vamp off and drew his Ontario Knife Spec Plus Kukri. Little Bro reloaded and emptied the clip into the vamps writing form. Redbeard cut off the head in on smooth motion, the edge of the tough kukri sparking off the rocks underneath.
“Damn, just sharpened this thing too.” Redbeard sighed.
The sun rose, and in the valley below two vampires burst into flames as the light hit their prostrate bodies. The vamp head laying at Readbeards feet smoked until it burst into ash.
The nest was finished. The lead vamp done. Marvin reported that Shane's team had cleared out seven vamps.
The Brothers met the MHI team at a gas station for a breakfast of really bad wraps and bitter coffee.
“What's your story” Yuri asked, thick Russian accent marred by a mouthful of egg.
“He's a pastor and I work for Uncle Sam” Little Bro replied between sips of coffee.
“MHI offered us jobs a couple years back, but I couldn't leave my family and church, and he couldn't get out of his service obligation.” Redbeard finished.
“We met Marvin playing 'Everquest” and he tracked Redbeard down playing 'World of Warcraft'.” Little Bro went on. “Turns out he has a great memory for online contacts and ran through the employee files and put two and two together.”
Redbeard made a face, “I just never figured he was, you know, a real troll.”
