Chapter 29
THINGS happened very quickly after we locked eyes. I reached into my jacket to grab my gun out of its holster. Satterfield just as swiftly reached into his coat and pulled out a butcher knife, which gleamed wickedly in the light from Brawny’s station. Brawny started to shout something, but that was as far as he got. Satterfield swung the knife and made a huge gash across Brawny’s throat. Blood splattered onto the wall behind Brawny. I fired. I thought I hit Satterfield, but if I did, he didn’t react. He moved fast. I expected him to go for the door, where he’d just entered, but instead he darted further into the bar, making for the shadows at the end furthest from the bar. I fired again.
People began screaming and running. There was a mass exodus for the door, putting people in between me and Satterfield. The guy I had pegged as a plainclothes cop pulled out his gun. He was closer to Satterfield than I was. Too close as it turned out. Before he could bring his weapon up Satterfield was on him. He rammed the knife into the man’s chest. The cop gasped and convulsed. I saw blood coming out of his mouth before he hit the floor.
I couldn’t imagine what Satterfield had in mind until I saw that one of the girls was sitting at a corner table having a smoke break. She was still wearing her stiletto heels but had a terry cloth robe on, covering her stripping garb. Her screams were adding to the already ear-splitting din, but she was trapped, cornered.
Jesus, I thought. Satterfield was getting bold. He’d decided on getting his meal tonight, and he’d decided on his favorite spot, and he wasn’t going to let me, Brawny, or the police stop him. I got a clear shot and fired again. Either I was missing, which, let’s face it, wasn’t likely, or bullets really didn’t bother him much.
Satterfield was getting close to the girl. She tried to move around him, but he quickly stepped in front of her. He raised the knife.
More than human strength. Silver bullets couldn’t kill him. He was armed with a butcher knife and had just either killed or seriously wounded two people right in front of me. The only smart thing to do was to get the hell out of there, and let the police try to deal with him.
Not me. I bolted across the room and threw myself at him.
I slammed into his back, shoulder first, with everything I had. This didn’t have the effect that I’d hoped. Instead of tumbling to the ground he merely lost his balance momentarily. It did give the stripper enough time to get away from him, though. She let out one last blood-curdler and, ducking out of range of his knife, managed to squeeze around us. She moved fast for someone in stiletto heels.
Satterfield, or whatever the ghoul’s real name was, moved fast as well. With an angry snarl he whirled around, slashing the knife at me. My flying tackle had put me off balance as well and, more by luck than design, I missed getting sliced because I was already falling back on my ass. Satterfield growled with rage and brought the knife back around. This time he nicked my jacket. This guy was murder on jackets. I didn’t think that he’d cut me, but I didn’t stay still to examine any possible wounds. I scrambled away just in time. I could feel the rush of the air as the knife swished right by my ear. I kicked back blindly and managed to connect with one of his shins. I heard him grunt, but I think it was more out of frustration than out of pain. To him I was a pesky fly that refused to sit still long enough to be hit with the swatter.
I got to my feet and grabbed the nearest chair. I could sense more than see him moving behind me. I swung the chair around just as he was making a try to stab me in the chest. The legs of the chair hit his descending arm and sent the knife flying. His eyes flashed anger, but before he could react, I swung the chair back around, this time making sure it collided with his shoulder.
He fell back, hitting the table where the girl had been taking her break. The table kept him from falling over, damn the luck. He spun around, glaring at me. “I’m going to kill you,” he snarled through clenched teeth.
“That’s hardly pithy or original,” I yelled as I crashed the chair onto his head. Unlike in the movies, it didn’t splinter into pieces. I heard some wood crack, but that was it. The force pushed him farther back, and he and the table went over.
I knew he was only stunned, but I’d saved my damsel in distress. Now it was time to get the hell away from him. I turned and started to run. That’s when I realized we weren’t the only ones left in the bar. When the commotion had started all the staff and patrons had taken off running. All but three, apparently. Cowering over by the bar were Tiffany, Craig, and Brenda.
I wondered why the hell they were hanging around until I got a better look at Tiffany, who was sprawled on the floor, cradled by her brother. He and Brenda were trying to get her to her feet. It wasn’t easy because Tiffany’s leg was broken. Badly. Even from several yards away I could see her shin bone poking through the skin. She must have fallen off the bar when the panic started.
I rushed over and got on the side of her that was opposite Craig. Together we got her to her feet. Satterfield was moving as well, and I knew there was no way we could drag Tiffany to the main door without Satterfield catching up with us.
“This way,” I shouted. I started for the door I’d seen Brenda go through when she went to change. Together Craig and I dragged his sister quickly across the floor, Brenda close on our heels. We got there just in time. Once we were through, Brenda slammed the door behind us. There was a bolt on the door, and just as she slid it across, the door shook as Satterfield rammed into it. It held, but it wouldn’t take much abuse. I quickly took stock. Tiffany couldn’t walk and was a bawling, screaming mess in any case. Not that you could blame her. Brenda was wearing nothing but a pink G-string and heels, so running quickly wasn’t going to be easy for her.
“Is there a back door?” I asked.
Brenda nodded. She was choking back tears, but she was thinking. Satterfield hit the door again, and this time I heard wood splintering. The lock wasn’t going to last long. I scooped Tiffany into my arms. She put an arm around my neck. She wasn’t too heavy, and I figured I could move faster like that than trying to carry her with help from Craig.
I wouldn’t say things looked good for us. Brenda was having difficulty running in her heels, and her breasts bounced around enough to provide difficulties of their own. I had the nearly-naked Tiffany in my arms. Brenda led the way to the back door. Just as we got there I heard a crashing and more splintering of wood. Satterfield had broken through the door.
We wasted no time getting outside. There was no way to lock the outside door behind us. Craig, pulling up the rear, paused long enough to grab a table lamp and hurl it toward Satterfield before slamming the door behind us. Hopefully he slowed down Satterfield a few seconds. We needed all the help we could get.
I sprinted around the side of the building to the parking lot. Robbie was waiting by the car, his face tense and alert. He quickly rushed around and opened up the back door. Tiffany was moaning, and her face was looking pasty and feverish.
I noticed that the cop who had been in the patrol car was no longer there. He had either heard the commotion inside or been alerted when the staff and patrons had all run out. I couldn’t see him anywhere, and I guessed that he had gone inside to see what was up. I hoped that he had had the sense to call for backup.
Craig motioned to a car that was actually closer than mine. “Put her in the back seat,” he told me. Must be his car. I got to the car at the same time as Craig, and he opened the back door. I didn’t have time to be gentle, and Tiffany cried out when her damaged leg brushed up against the car door. Somehow I got her in. Craig opened the passenger door and got inside and then slid across to the driver’s seat. I shut Tiffany in and glanced back. Satterfield was only yards behind us. There was no way Brenda and I were going to be able to get inside before he’d reach us.
A gunshot rang out and Satterfield stumbled. Behind him was the patrol cop, who must have followed us out the back door. He fired again, and Satterfield fell face forward onto the pavement.
Before he recovered Craig gunned the engine. His tires spun as he punched the accelerator before sending the car careening across the parking lot. I saw that the cop was running up to Satterfield, who was slowly getting back up to his feet. He shot Satterfield one more time. Satterfield’s body jerked from the impact.
“Don’t come close to him,” I warned the cop. “Bullets can’t kill him.”
Craig didn’t even try to aim for the entrance to the parking lot. He ran over the curb, sending sparks flying. The tires squealed as he sped away.
Brenda watched the tail lights as they headed down the road. “He left us,” she wailed.
“Get in my car,” I told her as I ran over to where Satterfield was once again rising from the pavement. I got to him at the same time as the cop, who still had his gun out.
He was watching Satterfield get up in astonishment. “I put three bullets in his back!”
I had the idea that if I could get the amulet from around the killer’s neck that maybe the gun would become an effective weapon. No charm, no powers. He recovered quickly, though. He whirled around to the cop, who was too close to him. Satterfield’s left hand shot out and grabbed the officer by the throat. The cop dropped his gun as he raised his hands to try to pry away the fingers that were squeezing his windpipe. I got to Satterfield, but he must have seen me out of the corner of his eye. He was holding the cop with one hand. He used his other to backhand me. I didn’t see it coming, and his fist hit me right in the mouth with considerable power. I hit the ground, feeling blood in my mouth. My lip was cut badly. That wouldn’t look good while it healed.
Satterfield raised the cop off the ground, still using only his left hand. The cop struggled for air and kicked his legs. Then something in his neck snapped, and his head lolled to the side, his eyes staring and his tongue bulging out of his mouth. Satterfield tossed him aside as if he were a rag doll.
I got to my feet and moved away from the ghoul. I wouldn’t be able to get to the amulet, and trying would only get me killed. Then he would go after Brenda and kill her, and that would make me a very bad protector. I’d also be dead, but that was secondary to being a bad protector. I had to get Brenda away from him. That’s what I was being paid to do.
I got around and got into the car. Robbie was in his usual place and Brenda had gotten into the back. Just as I shut my door Satterfield reached the car. I got the key in the ignition and fired up the engine. The back window shattered as Satterfield rammed his fist through it. Brenda screamed as his hand reached in, trying to grasp her hair. The car shot forward and Satterfield got his hand out just in time. We sped away, leaving him looking very angry indeed. I got an idea in my head of going back and running him over with the car. Surely that would do some damage. When I glanced back in the rear view mirror, though, Satterfield was gone. The man could move fast for a guy a couple of centuries old.
“What the hell?” Robbie asked. He was twisted in his seat, trying to see out the rear window.
“Did you see where he went?” I asked as I rounded a corner. The tires squealed in protest.
Robbie shook his head. “He must have disappeared into the shadows. What happened in there?”
Brenda was crying, the sobs wracking her body. The glass from the broken window lay around her and there was even some in her hair, but I couldn’t see that she was cut anywhere. I slowed the car down a little. We were heading down 16th Street and had passed the Indianapolis Speedway at a speed that wouldn’t have been out of place on the track. Robbie turned to face the front as I told him, “Not much. Our ghoul apparently came in thinking he’d have a quick murder and a snack later. I saw him. He saw me. Death and destruction all around.”
Several patrol cars zoomed by us, their lights flashing and sirens wailing. They paid us no attention. I could hear sirens coming from somewhere behind us as well. The force had arrived, although I wondered if they’d find Satterfield still there. It was hard to tell what the ghoul would do, but I didn’t think he’d be stupid enough to hang around after all that. Of course, I hadn’t thought he’d be stupid enough to walk into a strip club carrying his knife. Well, I say stupid. I was the one with the busted lip.