Behind the vampire’s back, the cement river with its fetid water was close, and Dave knew it. He began scanning the tree tops. He wanted me to look, but I wasn’t having it. I was locked on him as I rocked from side to side, pacing in place, waiting for the moment that I would tear him into an unrecoverable pile of fleshy undead pieces.

I stepped forward and growled.

“Where are you?!” Dave cried out, and the trees began to rustle.

My radar-like senses went haywire. Suddenly, there were a hundred objects coming at me from every direction. I couldn’t focus or get an exact fix on who or what I was smelling. I had seconds to act. I jumped forward and pounded the vampire with all my werewolf strength, which was evidently considerable. He flew through the air, flipping, turning, and screaming like a discarded doll, and landed head first in the running water inside the cement aqueduct.

It was a gamble. Running water affected only the most superstitious vampires. But considering Dave’s age and his reaction to the makeshift cross, I hoped for the best. I hit pay dirt. He began to sizzle and steam like the Wicked Witch of the West, but I had barely a second to enjoy it before the screaming creatures from the trees finally found their target.

They were on me at once, hundreds of them, none bigger than a small cat. They frantically clawed and scratched me, pulling my hair and biting with sharp, needle-sized teeth. I slashed and pulled them off the best I could. They were like small gibbons, but bald and pink, with teeth so large I couldn’t see how they fit into their tiny mouths. Their eyes were black, completely absent of pupils. And they were mean as fuck. They wouldn’t stop. I ripped and slashed them to pieces, twisting their necks and killing them one by one, but there were too damn many of them. No matter how many I killed, there were ten to take its place.

Meanwhile, in two feet of moving water, Dave was dying slowly as he screamed for his creatures to kill me.

“Avenge me, my pets! Kill him!”

On the verge of death after hundreds of years, he still had time to be a melodramatic pansy. Incredible.

I wasn’t doing much better. I was bleeding and taking heavy damage. They focused on wounds they’d made, tearing deeper and deeper into the tender flesh. I howled, spun, and slashed, but I was losing.

I fell to the ground reeling and shook like a wet dog. They clung hard to the wounds, refusing to let go. The pain was so incredible, at first I didn’t even realize I was suddenly hearing the creatures themselves shrieking in agony. Something was hurting them, something other than me. But it was too late. I collapsed on my side from loss of blood. I thought I was a goner for sure when I felt someone beside me, ripping the little monkey-vampires off.