Siege At Freaktown Ch. 10

High above the town, the local news station sent a one eyed female reporter on assignment by chopper, watching and describing the action in full detail. She reported the fires and those being slaughtered, leaving her sad and disgusted at the same time. Every block being leveled before her lone eye by Molotov cocktails and dynamite, driving the citizens out of their homes and businesses.

"This is Kerry Starr," she said, "coming to you live where we see the town under attacked by a band of humans. They are killing everyone and setting fires everywhere, all this ahead of the noon deadline."

All she could do was look on and report everything no matter how hard it was. Suddenly, something grabbed her attention that may have offered a glimmer of hope. She spotted a van lose control and explode at a gas station with her trusted cameraman filming all the action.

"What just happened?" She asked. "Some activity has taken place down there, and it appears to be a police officer fighting off the humans."

Carlos stayed on the other van, unaware of the action being filmed from above; it was the least of his worries. The news chopper stayed on them even when the action continued in the tunnel. The van's back doors opened up and awaiting Carlos was an RPG.

"Mierda," he said.

He steered out of the way but the one vehicle behind him was not so lucky. The vehicle exploded and flipped over, blocking traffic in the middle of the tunnel. Carlos stepped on the gas, heading up to the side of the van where the driver steered right into him.

"Who the fuck is this guy?" The driver asked.

"Hit him again," said the passenger.

The driver did just that, with Carlos responding with a couple of his own.

"Troy," said the passenger, speaking through his walkie-talkie. "This problem needs to be dealt with."

The man named Troy climbed up on top of the van, with one fully loaded uzi. From above he fired his shots, filling holes on the roof of the corvette. Carlos shrunk down in his seat, surprised by the hot lead raining down poking holes on his upholstery. He sat up straight, looking out his window where he caught a glimpse of the shooter.

Carlos steered a hard left into the van, attempting to knock the shooter off his feet. He hung tight even when they reached the end of the tunnel. Another hit and the shooter finally fell off, landing on the hood of the corvette. Troy hung on for dear life with a hand hold on the windshield wiper. He fired his weapon, forcing Carlos to duck down and showering him in broken glass.

Carlos received a few minor cuts on his neck. He stepped on the brake forcing Troy right off his vehicle. The young lieutenant stepped on the gas and ran him over, never giving Troy the chance to move out of the way. The next guy climbing up the van was also armed only this time with an RPG. Carlos wanted no part of it and quickly stepped on the gas all the way down which made little difference.

"Fire in the hole," said the shooter before firing upon Carlos' left rear tire, flipping him upside down.

The van pulled over and everyone inside stepped out all ready to finish off their helpless prey. Carlos reached out for his firearm when shots were fired but not in his general direction. All the armed individuals were struck down one by one by shotgun shells. The gun firing went silent and a pair of legs approached the corvette. Carlos got a peek at the older gentleman holding his weapon with a smoke filled muzzle.

"You all right, son?" He asked.

"I've had better days," said Carlos.

The older gentleman reached out his hand, pulling Carlos out from the wreckage and back on his feet. The young lieutenant was surprised to see who it was that saved him.

"Sergeant No Face," the older gentleman said, "Army Ranger."

"Lieutenant Carlos Perez, Marine Corps."

"What are you doing out here, soldier?"

"Actually, I was looking for you. I need all the help I can handle."

"It's a good thing I ran into you."

"Yes, sir."

"Are you armed?"

Carlos showed him his firearm but the old vet was not impressed.

"You have to do better than that," he said, leading Carlos to his pickup, uncovering the number of arsenal he had in the back.

"Shit," said Carlos, "you going to war, old man?"

"We are at war, son," said No Face, "the war of our survival."

"Good point."

"Take whatever you need; I got more at home."

Suddenly, an RPG was fired, completely leveling the upside down corvette. Carlos was broken up about it; he loved his wheels very much, probably more than Helena.

"You fucking putos!" Carlos yelled. "Te voy a romper el culo! You hear me? El culo!"

Sergeant No Face didn't need any translation to know the young man was pissed off. He already liked his attitude making him worthy of being a comrade-in-arms.

"Here they come, and smile pretty for the camera," he said, pointing at the news chopper.

"Great," said Carlos, "that's all I need. My girl must be having a heart attack by now."

"Or she's rooting for you."

"Yeah, she's my personal cheerleader."

It was then that Kerry Starr discovered that the police officer was a human male the entire time, leaving her to wonder why he was fighting his own kind? In the back of the pickup Carlos spotted an old Tommy gun laying beside a couple of rifles.

"Who gave you this," he asked, "Al Capone?"

"No," said No Face, "I made it a hobby of collecting old guns. I even got the gun that killed Billy The Kid."

Carlos didn't know whether to believe him or assume he's completely insane. A van and two motorcycles were now coming their way. One of the cycles had a sidecar, carrying the one guy who destroyed Carlos' corvette.

"Lock and load," said No Face.

The two ex soldiers fired their weapons, hitting their targets on contact. No Face damaged the van's engine and windshield while Carlos did quick work on the bikers who weren't given the chance to fire their weapons.

"Incoming!" No Face shouted, pushing Carlos out of the way from the approaching pickup truck from back of them.

He fired a couple of shots and laid on his back, allowing the vehicle to pass right over him. The old man grabbed onto the muffler, dragging himself away from the young lieutenant.

"Sergeant!" Carlos yelled, rushing to his aid.

No Face planted a grenade underneath and released the muffler, running towards the nearest cover. The grenade went off nearly splitting the pickup in half, sending the one guy in the back flying through the air. Carlos fell to the ground, covering his head and unsure where No Face ran off to.

"He is crazy," he said.

The man from the pickup remained on the ground, now focusing his aim at Carlos from behind. The young lieutenant was alone with no backup but that soon changed when a figure dropped from the sky wearing a rain coat. Arms wrapped around him and the mysterious figure flew Carlos away safely. Before leaving, the shooter still managed to fire his weapon, unloading on the mysterious figure's back.

"What the fuck?" Said Carlos. "Hel?"

"The one and only," she said, struggling from the pain inflicted by the sun.

"What are you doing here?"

"Saving your ass, what do you think?"

"Don't die on me now."

"I don't intend to."

After seeing on the news how much trouble her man was, she put on his raincoat for protection from the sun. The hood wasn't enough to cover her face and both hands were fully exposed.

"Down there," said Carlos, pointing towards the nearest rooftop.

After landing, Carlos opened the entrance way and shoved Helena inside under the shade. He removed the rain coat, getting a face full of smoke from her burning and blistered flesh. Her back was also bleeding from the shots she received while protecting him.

"Ah, shit," said Helena, "I don't know what's worse, getting shot or burned to a crisp."

"Are you all right?" Carlos asked.

"Oh, you know me, I'm a fast healer."

"Let me see."

Carlos turned Helena over, raising up her jacket and shirt, seeing the number of bullet wounds that would kill an ordinary human. One at a time the bullets fell off her wounded back as the body began to regenerate. Carlos picked up one of them, getting a closer look at it. He already knew the make and model of the slug that wouldn't be sold anywhere in Freaktown.

"Military grade," he said, "if you were human, your insides would be torn apart."

"Well," said Helena, "at least it wasn't silver. That burns like a motherfucker."

He was well aware silver can harm her or any vampire in Freaktown. The thought of the terrorists carrying silver arsenal worried him more over Helena's own safety.

"I gotta get back out there," he said. "No Face must have his hands full."

"I'm coming with you," said Helena.

"Sorry, carino, but you're staying put until the sun goes down."

"Like hell I am."

Their conversation abruptly ended by the sound of explosions and ear splitting screeching sounds that didn't belong to any human being.

"What the hell was that?" Carlos asked.

He looked up and saw those responsible for the noise. It all came from three winged figures using bows and arrows against the enemy. Another winged being came into the fold, who had a reputation in being angry at just about anything including those disturbing his sleep.

"Oh, shit," said Carlos.

"What?" Said Helena.

"It's Blackbird, and he sounds pissed."

"He always sounds pissed."

"And the Harpy triplets. They're all fighting back. I think our message has been received, Hel. We're gonna be all right."

"And to think I was worried over nothing."

The word got out in a hurry; a lone human police officer, willing to fight and die for the citizens of Freaktown. Soon Carlos would get the army he would need against the enemy.