Southern Born Southern Bled

Chapter 21

The sun rose high over the frosty meadows of South Alabama that Monday morning. As its golden rays filtered into the dewy trees, where deer fed and squirrels chattered, it found Lowell and Kurt parked on a secluded dirt road a few miles outside of town.

They'd stopped at a convenience store and gotten some coffee and doughnuts for breakfast, as they waited. Lowell set the bag on the hood of Kurt's car and pulled one of the coffees out. Kurt paced nervously nearby, smoking impatiently.

"Want your coffee now?" Lowell asked as he found a chocolate-covered doughnut in the bag. He was so cool and collected, one might think he was going on a fishing trip, not out trying to dig up bloodsucking ghouls from Hell itself.

Kurt waved him off. "I wonder what's taking him so long." He glanced at his watch. "He should've been here by now."

"Don't worry," Lowell blew on his coffee to cool it. "He might've had a little trouble convincing Dooley."

"Well, let's hope it don't take him too long," Kurt tossed the half-smoked cigarette away. "We gotta lot of territory to cover today."

"He'll be here. What did you tell your boss?"

"I told him I was onto a lead for the story. Would be in the field all day," Kurt turned to Lowell, "What about you? Weren't you supposed to be back in school today?"

Lowell shrugged inside the over-sized camo coveralls Seth had loaned him. "I called and told them I was in the midst of a severe spiritual crisis. Needed a few days off."

"I appreciate you staying with me on this." Kurt avoided Lowell's eyes because he didn't want to get all emotional, but his voice was thick with earnestness. "I mean, some people would've done high-tailed it outta the country. Wouldn't have stuck their neck out for somebody else's sister."

"Well," Lowell slurped his coffee noisily. "This is something I would've had to do regardless of who was involved. It's my duty as a Christian."

"I know," Kurt said almost grumpily. Jeez! You go and spill your guts to a guy, and he slaps you in the face with a cold fish!

"But," Lowell added. "I couldn't have picked any better soldiers than you and Seth to go into battle with. And your sister means a lot to you, so she means a lot to me."

Kurt nodded but didn't say anything. There was no need to. He zipped up the army-surplus field jacket he wore. It was part of his standard hunting ensemble, which included olive drab trousers and a worn pair of dusty Redwings. A large hunting knife hung in a leather sheath from his belt. It had been a present from his grandfather when he'd first started deer hunting as a young teen. He'd been an adequate hunter, but he'd never really gotten into it like many of his friends. He could understand hunting for food but not for sport, the mere pleasure of killing. It just never was something he enjoyed.

One thing was certain, he never figured on hunting this type of quarry.

While Lowell wolfed down another doughnut, Kurt wandered a little piece down the dirt road to think. Lowell had been right. The battle had been joined. They were at war. They knew the enemy. He suppressed a shudder, realizing also that the enemy knew them. They'd made that clear last night at Seth's house. There was no turning back. There would be no negotiations or surrender. Only victory or death.

It suddenly dawned on Kurt just how overwhelming the odds were against him surviving this. He was up against an enemy with superior strength, cunning, and devilish powers he could only imagine. Yet, the vampires had their weaknesses as well as their strengths. Somewhere in total darkness, they lay vulnerable. At this moment, they slumbered in the earth, their thirst slaked for the moment on the blood of their victims. As long as the sun was up, they were defenseless. Now was the time to strike.