The Monster Apocalypse

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

"What..." Paul said. Blood trickled out of his mouth, down his chin. "Chace, what have you done?"

Chace kneeled down and pushed the stake deeper into Paul's back, twisting it slowly. Paul let out a scream so loud the dirt from the ceiling actually shook down onto the trio, like snowflakes.

"You're not going anywhere, Paul," Chace said. "Get up."

"I can't move."

"Now!" He pulled the stake out of Paul's back and brought him up to his feet. Paul could barely stand up. Stakes didn't kill vampires—at least not in this clan—but they could wound them severely.

"I haven't even seen a stake in years," Paul said. "How did you... how did you find one?"

"Your dad gave it to me. Told me to use it if we hit any complications. He's a good man, your dad. The best bad guy I've ever known." Chace smiled and motioned for the shaken but uninjured Sawyer to walk along with them. "Sorry. I keep calling him your dad. He's our dad. We're the only ones who matter to him now—"

Paul had a load of black blood in his mouth. So he looked up at Chace and unloaded as much of it as he could with one giant spit. The black goo struck Chace in the center of his face, splattering directly against his nose and nearly covering his entire head.

"You little shit," Chace said, rubbing the tar-like substance away from his face with his left hand and striking his fist against Paul's face with his other. "I can't wait to see you die. That person you'll hear laughing and applauding louder than anyone else? That, my friend, is going to be me—"

A loud bang from above—the boom of a deafening gunshot—stopped all three of the vampires. Chace looked at Sawyer, and Sawyer looked at Chace.

"What was that?" Paul asked.

Sawyer started breathing more heavily. "They can't be here already, can they?"

"I'm sure they can," Chace said. "Come on. We have to hurry."

Sawyer grabbed onto Paul's right arm and held onto him even tighter than Chace, as the two hoisted Paul out of the Underground jail and quickly maneuvered him down a dark hall, pushing through a metal door, and entering a new, winding hallway.

"Are you ready for the show to begin?" Chace asked.

Paul looked at Chace and shook his head. "You still have some of my spit on your cheeks. You should probably take care of that. As my dad's newfound son, you'll want to look presentable."

"Nah," Chace said. "He's about to watch you die. Nothing could change the mood he's in. He's happy, Paul. He's happier than ever."

They made a sharp right turn, then a left, then another right. Chace and Sawyer pulled Paul through a big set of double doors, emerging into the underground underneath the Underground, the same place Brin met Droz.

But Chace and Sawyer didn't give Paul a lot of time to reminisce about the recent past. They started to lead him up the staircase, to the auditorium, to the vampires.

"You don't have to do this," Paul said.

"Trust me," Sawyer said, jabbing his left elbow against Paul's rib cage. "We do."

"Oww," Paul said. He hurt all over, so much so that didn't think he could make a run for it even if the opportunity presented itself.

But Paul ignored the pain in his gut and instead focused on the pain in his ears, as the chanting and applause from above grew louder and louder. The spotlights hit Paul's eyes the minute he reached the top step, blinding him. He blinked a few times, trying to see through it. When he did, he saw the vampires in the audience, so few and far between, not the large crowd that had presented itself last time, when Paul was there with Brin.

As the annoying spotlight finally moved away from Paul's eyes, he looked to his right to see his father, dressed in his Sunday night best, as he played giddily with his fancy new top hat.

For so many years, Droz had stood alone in that cold auditorium, but tonight he had a lady friend by his side. Tessa Skar held his hand, and, unlike his father, she was dressed a lot differently than before.

Brin's mom wore a stunning white wedding dress.

"Welcome home, Paul," Droz said, putting his arms out. "Are you ready to say goodbye to your life... as I begin a whole new one?"

Paul was in pain. He knew he had little time left and needed to stay on his best behavior. But despite all that, he still couldn't prevent himself from being snarky. "Kind of a small crowd out there, huh, Dad? That must have been difficult, having so many members of your clan die right in front of your eyes. Now you're down to what, a hundred or so? On your wedding day, too. You must feel so... unimportant."

"Stop," Droz said, his voice lower. "Shut up. You're done. Now get over here."

Paul shook his head. "You're going to have to come and get me, Dad."

Paul could have said a lot more to his father, but he figured this was the last time he had to escape. He elbowed Chace in his side and slapped the back of Sawyer's head. Chace tried to grab for him, but Paul ducked, leaped forward, and ran toward the staircase. Paul reached his hand out for the railing and touched the first step.

But he didn't make it any farther than that; Droz sunk his long, sharp fingernails into the back of his son's neck and turned him around.

"You're not escaping me, Paul," he said. "Never again."

He kept the nails lodged into Paul's neck as he guided him toward the center of the auditorium. Every member of the Bodie clan rose to their feet, hopping up and down and cheering at the top of their lungs. Chace and Sawyer stepped toward Tessa; all three stood in a line and clapped their hands together with unnerving enthusiasm.

Droz stopped Paul in the center of the room. The spotlight touched down on Paul's face.

"Dad," Paul said, closing his eyes. "Dad, I can't breathe."

"That's kind of the idea." Droz looked out at the vampires, all sitting up in the bleachers like they were about to take in a final championship football game, certainly not a showcase for a vampire demise and a sparkly wedding ceremony. "Everybody! Men, women, children! I'm not going to prolong this any longer!"

Droz put his hand out and started shaking it so fast, Paul felt the ground start to move underneath him.

Paul tried to ignore it, but he knew what was about to happen. The dirt in the middle of the auditorium started parting, to reveal a hole in the ground that stretched not a few feet deep, but hundreds of miles deep.

He had watched his father make the hole nearly half a mile wide up on the Bodie surface two weeks ago, allowing more than half of his men who were chasing after the group to fall through the cracks and disappear forever. Paul had watched him create these holes over the years to rid himself of both vamps and humans he didn't like, those who stole from him or badmouthed him or tried to kill him... or who simply existed.

But Droz had never made a hole for a member of his family. Paul never thought his own father would make a hole... for him.

"Dad. Dad, please."

Droz put his hand down and pushed Paul forward. "Not another word. It's time."

He kicked him against his back, hurtling Paul forward. He landed on his hands and knees, just inches away from the hole, from the drop into the center of the earth.

Droz pressed his hands against Paul's back. Paul felt a soft kiss against his neck, where his father's sharp nails had just been. Blood dripped down to the ground. Paul closed his eyes. This was it. It was over.

"Goodbye, my son," Droz said, readying the loudest, harshest kick he could muster. "Paul, my boy, my sweet, sweet boy... goodbye. Goodb—"