Larry raised the shotgun to his shoulder, aimed in Wallace's direction. I grabbed it from him, and something smashed into my back and rode me into the leaves. A hand pressed my face into the dry, crackling leaves. A second hand ripped the back of my coverall so violently it wrenched one shoulder. There was an explosion just behind my head, and the vampire was gone. I rolled over, ears ringing.
Larry was standing over me with his arm extended, gun out. Whatever he'd shot was gone out in the dark.
My left shoulder was hurt, but not as badly as it might be if I didn't get up. I struggled to my feet. The vampires were gone.
Wallace was sitting up, cradling his arm. Coltrain lay on the ground without moving. A sound behind us. I turned, Browning pointed. Larry was turning too, but too slow. I sighted down the barrel, and it was St. John.
"Don't shoot. It's me."
Larry held his gun two-handed pointed at the ground. "Sweet Jesus," he said.
Amen. "What happened to you?"
"The fall knocked me out. I followed the sound of shots," St. John said.
A gust of wind slapped against us. It smelled so strongly of rain I almost felt it on my skin.
"Check Granger's pulse, Larry," I said.
"What?" Larry looked shell-shocked.
"See if he's alive." It was a messy job, and I'd have done it myself, but I trusted me more than Larry to keep the vampires away. He'd saved me once tonight, but I still trusted me more.
St. John walked past us. He touched Wallace, who nodded. "My arm's broke, but I'll live." St. John went to Coltrain's still form.
Larry knelt by Granger. He switched his gun to his left hand, not the best thing to do, but I understood. Hard to check for a pulse in the dark on a throat warm with blood; better to use your dominant hand.
"I've got a pulse." He looked up, his broad smile a dim whiteness in the dark.
"Coltrain's dead," St. John said. "God help me, he's dead." He raised a hand and the skin glistened with blood, black in the dim light. "He's nearly decapitated. What did this?"
"Sword," I said. I'd seen it. Watched it happen. But all I could remember was a black shape larger than a human being. Or larger than most. A shadow with a sword was all I'd seen, and I'd been looking right at it.
Something flowed across my skin, and it wasn't the wind. Power filled the spring night like water. "There's something old out here," I said.
"What are you talking about?" St. John said.
"An ancient vampire. It's here. I can feel it." I searched the darkness, but nothing moved but the trees, the wind. There was nothing to see. Nothing to fight. But it was here and it was close. Sword in hand, maybe.
Granger sat up so suddenly that Larry fell back into the leaves with a squeak. The big man's eyes turned to me. I saw his hand go for his gun, and I knew what the vampire was doing.
I pointed the Browning at his head and waited. I had to be sure.
Granger didn't hunt for his dropped rifle. He drew his sidearm and pointed it very slowly, as if he didn't want to do it. He pointed it at Larry from less than a foot away.
Wallace yelled, "Granger, what the f**k are you doing?"
I fired.
Granger jerked; the gun wavered, then his hand came back up. I fired again, and again. His hand fell slowly to the ground, gun still in it. He fell straight back into the leaves.
"Granger!" Wallace was screaming, crawling toward his partner. Shit.
I got there first and kicked the gun out of his hand. If he'd twitched, I'd have shot him again. He didn't twitch. He just lay there, dead.
Wallace tried to cradle him one-handed. "Why'd you shoot him? Why?"
"He was going to kill Larry. You saw it."