IV

IV

CREEEAK. CRUUUUUNKTHOOM! The floor collapsed.

There was nothing they could do. In vain, they scrambled to hold on to something, but they were sucked down the ship's pipes. It wasn't a long fall, but it was frightening and disorienting.

They rose, groggy and off-balance.

"Owww. Father, are you okay?" Jessica asked. She couldn't see anyone in the small gray room. She craned her neck and peered into the darkness. Then she felt it. "Father? Where are у—eek!"

Something moved under her skirt. Jessica jumped up and screamed at the top of her lungs.

Abel, his eyes rolled back in his head, lay beneath her. He looked half hurt . . . and yet more than a little satisfied. She must've sat right on his face when they'd landed.

"Father, are you all right? Please don't be dead."

"It hurt, but it felt good," he mumbled. "Where am I? Who are you? What smells so good?"

Abel continued to babble on for a few moments before he could shake the cobwebs from his addled mind.

Jessica, fearing he'd had a concussion, tried to snap him out of it. "We're on the sub-bridge. The floor panels were rusted and they gave out. Are you feeling all right?"

"I had a dream. There were angels, but they were wearing pink instead of white. And they smelled sweet, like perfume . . ."

Abel's voice trailed off when his mind caught up with what he was saying. He snapped his mouth shut and blushed.

Jessica stared coldly at the squirming priest. She took great care to chastely adjust her dress. "There has to be an electrical switch around here somewhere," she said, looking anywhere but at Abel. "Ah. Here it is."

"So, this is the hangar for the messenger plane. We can leave any time we need to."

Jessica ignored the priest and moved to the computer switchboard. She knew which knobs and levers needed to be flipped for manual flight, so she began typing in the command sequence. After a short time, the makeshift bridge was up and running. The computer booted up, but the display revealed a blinking cursor, nothing more.

"I don't know what this is, but there should be information on here, a prompt to enter a password or something. Right now, we're completely locked out," she said.

"Is that so? Let me see," said the priest.

"It's no use. Only a programmer can—" Jessica stopped in mid-sentence.

At the console, the priest was typing furiously. She thought he'd lost his mind and was just banging away at the keyboard like a madman. She didn't have time for such foolishness.

"Father! Quit wasting our time with that nonsense! We need to find another way to divert the ship."

He simply replied, "I know what I'm doing."

The computer screen filled with strange characters—green letters and numbers, rushing rapidly down the monitor. After a while, Jessica began to see patterns in the chaos. Bits of words, pieces of code, and specific breaks in character sequences started to add up.

"Got it," said the priest. He punched a large key, and then raised both fists in triumph.

The console beeped at them and began to whir. A moment later, the switchboard lights changed from green to blue. Jessica knew this meant they'd gone from autopilot to manual mode.

"Who are you really, Father?"

"I'm the guy who's going to cover you while you fly this ship to safety." The priest straightened his robe and looked around. "I worked my miracle; now it's your turn.You need to keep this ship from crashing at all costs.That's going to be the easy part. Landing's the hard part.You stay here; I'm going to look for our friend from the flight deck."

"Isn't that dangerous?" she asked.

He searched her face. "It's dangerous to let him find you here—I won't let that happen. I'll do my job, you do yours."

"Uh . . ."

"Yes, Jessica?"

She didn't know what she was trying to say. She couldn't sort out the tangled mess of her emotions. Finally, she settled for "Be careful."

"Thank you." The priest's sharp blue eyes seemed to soften whenever he looked at her. "I'll be back; holler if you have any problems."

Abel had barely finished his sentence when he was flung across the room. He flew through a pane of glass; the shards shredded his face and clothes. Most human beings would have been decapitated, but Abel merely lay there, limp as a rag doll.

Jessica turned to see the vampire before her. She wanted to scream, but her throat closed up. She stood in silence for what felt like forever.

As if savoring her terror, Alfredo, Duke of Meinz, took a long time before he spoke.

"You'll holler before I'm through. I promise you that."

Abel landed flat on his stomach—or what was left of his stomach. The vampire's punch had shattered his ribcage. He felt his organs spilling out beneath him, along with copious amounts of his blood.

He felt so cold.

"I thought you weren't foolish enough to try something like this."The duke laughed. "Did you think I wouldn't find you? Are you really that stupid?"

All hope Jessica once had now faded. Abel was dead, and she was about to be violated. No, it'll be worse than mere rape, she thought. The vampire would probably sexually torture her, and then take his sweet time draining her dry. Crippled with fear, she fell to her knees.

"Not so fast!" the duke said, chuckling. He smacked his lips, chewing on a wad of tobacco. "While you'll spend plenty of time on your knees tonight, it won't be until after I've knocked your teeth out. But business comes before pleasure." The vampire gave her a feral smile.

Jessica tried to back away, but she couldn't. She was helpless, enthralled. She couldn't even brace herself.

"Be patient, honey. I know you'll break easy, but I want to do it spectacularly. I'm going to do things to you that humankind hasn't seen in a thousand years. Horrible things. Wonderful things.You'll beg for more and you'll beg for death— at the same time."

The duke pulled out the metallic disk that he'd used on the bridge and held it up high.

"What is that?" Jessica asked, curious despite her fear.

"I think it's the master code for the computer. But, you wanna know a secret? I really don't know what it is. They told me to put it in the computer and push a few buttons. Amazing that something so small can bring down this big ship, huh?"

Startled, the duke suddenly jerked back.

"No," came the eerie whisper. Thin fingers grabbed Alfredo's leg.

Jessica gaped. It's the priest! How is he still alive?

"Please, there are over a hundred people on this ship," the priest ground out.

"I don't give a damn about those worthless people!" screamed the duke. Alfredo kicked Abel squarely in the temple. The force of the blow sent the priest skidding into a wall of machines. He lay sprawled on the floor, broken. Jessica heard the wet thud as his innards smeared along the ground. Her eyes welled up with tears.

"I'm a Methuselah. A vampire! We are the highest beings on Earth! You are like cattle! I will use you for food and wear your skin when I'm done with you!"

"No . . . you . . . you're also human," whispered the priest, moments from death.

"Shut up and die, you stupid cow," growled the vampire. Duke Alfredo typed away on the keyboard. "I'm almost done here, pussycat," he said over his shoulder to Jessica. "After this, I'm gonna kill you 'til you love me."

She didn't know how she'd gotten a pipe, and she surely didn't know where she'd found the strength to swing it—but she aimed for the vampire's head and gave it her best shot. He blocked the pipe with his bare hand, not even bothering to look up from the keyboard. She knew then that he saw her as a mere toy, weak and helpless—something to play with, break, and discard.

Alfredo used the pipe's momentum against her, twisting her arm behind her without so niuch as looking at her. With a flick of his wrist, he threw Jessica into the wall. She crumpled to the floor.

"Je-Jessica!" the priest choked out.

"Holy crap! Did I kill her?" The duke laughed, shrugging. He continued to chew his tobacco. "Oh well, her corpse will be warm for a few more minutes, at least."

He started whistling a funeral march while he typed, trying not to let his mood turn sour. Sex with a corpse was one thing, but he didn't want to drink a dead person's blood. It always tasted terrible. He spit out his tobacco.

"What is that?" Abel asked.

The black blob the vampire spit out wasn't tobacco after all. It was a piece of red rubber. It was . . .

"A balloon . . . ?" Abel whispered in disbelief.

"That? Oh, I got it from a little boy," remarked the duke. He continued to type without glancing at the balloon or Abel. "I found him on my way here. I was looking for you, of course. I knew you'd come to the sub-bridge, but I needed to feed before I could make it here. The boy's blood helped me heal faster. He tasted good. His blood was thick, smooth . . . and it flowed until the very end. Exquisite, really."

What happened next unfolded faster than the vampire could see, faster than he could hear, faster than he could smell. He was, for the first time in his life, caught completely unaware. The duke was thrown to the ground with terrific force. He fell, squealing like a pig, "What?!"

A normal human would have broken every limb. The duke was merely dazed by the impact. He raised his head for the briefest second, taking in the priest who stood before him.

"Duke Alfredo, you've gone too far," Abel said.

Shadows painted the priest's face. Even the light from the two moons outside couldn't penetrate the absolutely black halo that now engulfed the priest. His robe was soaked with his own blood.The duke couldn't comprehend how the priest could still be alive, much less find the strength to fight a Methuselah.

"I regret that I cannot forgive you . . . unless you're willing to repent," said the priest.

"Forgive? Repent?" asked the duke. "You're insane. I am above your human concept of sin!" Duke Alfredo pulled himself up off the floor and hissed at Abel. "Your cow-god holds no judgment over my soul. You are no more than a dinner buffet to me. And your faith is useless," spat out the duke.

"He would forgive you, but . . ." The priest's eyes glowed a horrible red that would turn the stomach of the bravest men. "Even if He could show you mercy ... I cannot."

"Tell your cow-god all about it when you get to cow-heaven!"

Alfredo jabbed a middle finger at Abel, attempting to poke out his eye. The duke didn't think the priest would blabber on about God and redemption if he were blind. He greatly anti­cipated the satisfying squish his finger would make when he dug into Abel's eyeball, eye socket, and brains.

But . . . nothing.

"Impossible," the duke whispered.

Abel had caught the vampire's arm. It takes the strength of ten humans to hold back the arm of a Methuselah. Who is this human? He tried to free his arm from the priest's grip, but he couldn't. That wasn't the only surprise in store for the duke.

"Nanomachine Crusnik 02 forty percent limited per­formance—authorized," Abel murmured.

"Agaaah!" screamed the duke. Agony shot through him and he yanked his arm back. He staggered, in the worst pain he'd ever known.

A chain was now wrapped around his wrist. The links of chain ate at his flesh like they had minds of their own. Small bloody geysers sprayed from his arm. Bone and flesh dripped off in chunks all around him. The chain was shredding his arm to pieces.

"My haaaaaaand!" the duke screeched.

"Hurts, doesn't it?" the priest asked coolly. His eyes were a red darker than blood. Fangs suddenly protruded from his lips. "Doesn't it? Are you suffering? The people you killed endured far more pain. I won't kill you now. Instead, I will do God's will. I'll only make you bear one hundredth of the pain the people you've murdered had to bear."

The horrible sound of popping flesh filled the room. It was sickening. It wasn't the duke, however. Abel's right hand and arm were splitting open. From inside the gaping hole, a sharp spike poked through. It pulsated.

It was a mouth.

The mouth began eating Alfredo's right fist.

"Y-You're . . ." the duke stammered. "Wh-what are you? You're not human."

"You compared humans to cattle, didn't you? Haven't you ever thought about this: Humans eat cows. Vampires eat humans. Maybe there's something eats vampires," the priest whispered. Abel's lips curled up to reveal his fangs. "I am a Crusnik. A vampire's vampire, if you will."

"Bullshit!" Alfredo hollered in disbelief. "I am a Methuselah. All the living creatures of Earth are mere fodder for us. We rule by the divine right of kings! We were ancient when your world was young! I am a god! Die, you Vatican dog!"

Hidden in the duke's belt was a microfilament knife. The edge had been sharpened down to a hair; it could cut through anything.

It now sprung up like a snake. Abel guarded his face with his left hand, but the blade moved at supersonic speeds and sliced off his left arm. A column of blood spurted up to the ceiling.

"Mortal weakling. 'Vampire's vampire,' huh?"

Bleeding and in horrible pain, Abel took a knee.

Duke Alfredo snickered at him. "You'll pay for the indignities I've endured. What are you? A human augmented by drugs and technology? No matter. You'll pay all the same. I'm going to cut off your other arm, and then both your legs. Then, while you bleed to death, I'll rape the girl and drink her blood right in front of you. You'll cry for me. Oh yes, you will."

Abel didn't bat an eye. He just picked up his left arm from the floor. A sucking noise echoed around the room. The mouth on Abel's arm moved again. It started to eat the rest of the severed left arm: fingers to palm, palm to wrist, wrist to forearm.

"You're eating yourself," observed the duke. "Disgusting."

Abel's body began to change shape. A new arm started growing out of the wound. It was a regeneration of sorts, but it was happening impossibly fast. New flesh grew out, piece by piece; first the fingers, then the palm, wrist, and forearm. Eventually, the biceps and shoulder snapped into place.

He wasn't human, and he sure as hell wasn't a vampire. The duke knew this. He started to back away. His mission to crash the Tristan didn't seem so important now. Before him stood something beyond his experience, something even more cursed than a vampire.

The priest cocked his head. "I will ask you one question, a question that might save your life." His simultaneous consumption and regeneration was now complete. But that was the least of his powers, the duke sensed. Seemingly from thin air, a double-bladed scythe appeared in Abel's hands. "Who are you working for?"

Duke Alfredo didn't answer. He just ran. He bolted as fast as his vampire powers allowed. He scrambled to an outer access door and fled the ship itself, scurrying to the top of the helium balloon.

The duke's mind raced. Will I have to jump?

He didn't have to think about it for long. Abel suddenly appeared in front of him. How could anyone have outrun me?

"It's useless. You cannot escape me." The vampire could just barely hear the priest's voice above the whipping wind.

Where does he come from? What is he? The duke almost didn't care anymore.

The air around them was freezing but the priest just stood there, not even a warm cloud of breath trailing his lips.

Alfredo whimpered, afraid for his life. What is he?!

The twin moons glowed down on them. Finally, Abel broke the silence. "What are you afraid of, Duke? Aren't you safe at the top of the food chain?"

The duke screamed as he charged forward, but it was merely a feint. Duke Alfredo swung his belt at the priest and then turned to run. His plan was semisuccessful. His legs ran in one direction . . . but his torso fell in the other.

His lower body ran a few steps before it stumbled and flopped over. His hands reached out for his thighs, but found only empty air. "Help me. Please help me," the vampire begged.

Abel's red eyes looked down to the mortally wounded vampire. "How does it feel to be cattle?"

As his guts poured out, Alfredo tried to scoot away. He was terrified. Rational thought was impossible.

"Speak," ordered the priest.

The duke was compelled to answer. He just blurted out information that he'd once sworn to keep secret.

"Rosenkreuz Orden . . ."

Duke Alfredo felt something squeeze his heart. He was certain that it was the priest. But when he looked, it was his own hand tearing into his chest. He was crushing his own heart.

"What's going on?" he squeaked.

His hand acted on its own and pulled out his heart. What the hell is happening?

"Oh no! Pre-hypnotism!" the duke whispered, watching himself die.

The priest swung down his scythe to sever the heart from Alfredo's hand, but in vain.The mangled organ was already crushed like a grape. The duke gurgled off his immortal coil.

Abel knelt before the fallen vampire, closed the corpse's eyes, and whispered, "Calpa perrenis aelito ora tuor nominare. Your sins are eternal. But I will not pray for the dead."

The priest rose. The rosary between his fingers clanked, swaying in the intense wind. "I don't like this one bit," he said as he looked at the burst heart. "Not one bit."