They came at him from the air, in flying contraptions he did not understand. They shined their glaring lights on him, bright like the sun, and fired projectiles into his body from noisy little weapons.
A vampire rushed back to the center of the marching army, where Dracula, looking tired under his blankets, rode safely hedged within his converts.
“My lord,” said the vampire. “A wolf approaches. He cannot be controlled by suggestion as the other animals can. It is the largest wolf I’ve ever seen. And there are more ahead. Many more.”
“Guards,” Dracula called. He was already at ease with the English language, on account of all the recent lives he’d consumed. He did not fully understand the time he found himself in, but by the blood he had taken, he was learning how to function within it. “Surround me while I speak with this creature. I have heard rumors of such beings, even from my youth. Men that go about as great beasts at will. They are the hammers of the gods, fierce beyond measure and hard to kill. Keep careful watch.”
***
Joseph Snow stood near the edge of the open space bordering dense forest. A single logging road ran straight ahead. He sat, glaring with his green eyes at the ragged mob approaching. The weak autumn sun barely shone around the vampire’s churning storm.
The progression ceased. There were movements amid the ranks. The white wolf stared with pity at the crazed converts of the vampire. They were pale and filthy, almost like haggard victims fleeing a warzone recently fallen to an enemy. Between them and himself stood rows of strong wild animals. They looked more hypnotized and confused than fierce.
Then Dracula rode forth through the ranks, bodies parting from his way. He sat straight and proud atop his horse. He moved beyond the animals with several bodyguards around and then halted just shy of the open space. Perhaps ten yards separated him from the lone wolf.
“Do you understand my language?” asked the wolf.
“I do,” replied the vampire. “It comes to me through the blood of the wild animals.”
“It comes to me freely as a gift, so that I might look after the natural world.”
“Beautiful,” said the vampire through a sneer.
“The world has changed greatly while you have slept.”
“So it has. And now I will change it more.”
“Not while I live. You will not move west with any ease.”
“You have the courage, but not the numbers to stop me.”
“I disagree. I would rather not fight, and I trust you feel the same. Do not deceive me or yourself. Your force, though larger than mine, is not devoted to you, but merely under your spell. Your numbers mean nothing. Spare your mindless devotees of battle. Let us fight with highest honor, leader against leader, leaving out all the rest.”
“You speak of honor, old wolf,” said Dracula, smiling thinly. “Yet you take me for a fool.”
“I issue a challenge, not an insult.”
“Then, if I took your challenge, what would become of my army when I can no longer maintain the clouds?”
“They will run and hide. Some may survive until nightfall. Do not pretend it is them that you care for. Like a coward king, you ride amid your army rather than at the head of it.”
Dracula was gazing beyond the wolf, at the distant line of the assembled pack. They were formed up in large blocks, somewhat akin to the Greeks.
He looked back to the wolf and said, “I am weaker by day. You ask me to throw myself to your jaws in the name of honor?”
“Feed,” growled Joseph, baring his terrible fangs. “Feed on your wretched converts and come out again to meet me. I have not slandered you, but have spoken plain truth. If truth burns, blame yourself. But do not insult me in turn, for my patience is thin. We could have attacked you from all sides in the deep forest. Much of your force would already be defeated, and you would be battling not to be kept from a wooden prison, but from death itself. Yet knowing of your honorable bloodline, I chose honor first, and met you here.”
“Do you prefer honor to life?” asked the vampire. He pushed aside his blankets, his skin darkened, and he took the bat-like form, which was his strongest form, and the most demanding of his energy.
The white wolf looked beyond the bat creature to the churning storm. Amid the darkness there was a faint but sure difference as the sun’s rays struggled to penetrate the unnatural clouds. Dracula was strong, but not as strong as he wished all to believe. He was spreading himself too thin, hoping to achieve victory by intimidation alone. Joseph saw this clearly.
“From where you attain your powers, I do not know,” Dracula said, unfurling his spiny wings. “I could drain ten men and not gain the strength within a drop of your blood.”
“You will not taste it while my heart beats,” Joseph returned through bared teeth.
“I trust your word, worthy foe.”
“Your father was great and once fought bravely,” said the wolf. “Have you learned of his fate?”
“I have. Do not hope for me to repeat his mistakes. My appetite for women and the worship of brides will not shadow my decisions. I will only rest with such comforts when all threats have been put down.”
“That may be. But it matters not. Your pride in your powers has already assured your defeat.”
“Strong words,” returned the vampire. “A fine show you put on, old wolf. I do not blame you for your strategy. But in truth, all I have experienced from you are words, and I will not cave to them. Your methods would strike terror into a mortal, yet I am no mortal. I will not halt my progress because of your reasoning. And since you are so noble, great one, you will not cut me down here, away from my army, as you are well capable of.”
“Go now and feed yourself,” Joseph growled. “Retreat to the forest or advance to the open. We will cut you down all the same.”
***
“It’s okay,” Janie said to her daughter. “Look, he’s coming back.”
Evie watched silently, still wiping away tears as her grandfather walked back to the center of the open space. He sat facing the vampire’s horde, projecting an image of immovability.
Dozens of wolves closed around Joseph, while the bulk of the pack held back twenty or thirty yards in their formation. They were clustered in blocks of roughly twenty, and the blocks were staggered and arranged to form a point like an arrowhead.
“The vampire will not negotiate,” Joseph told his fellows. “Do not let them taste your blood, lest you give them greater strength.”
Then he turned at the sound of screams from the undead army. It was Dracula, frantically feeding upon his devotees.
***
“Let the wild animals go ahead of us,” the vampire ordered his generals, now that he had gorged himself. “Let these wolves struggle against them before meeting us. And when we do meet them, do not play into their tactics of fast strikes and singular battles. Stand strong, several of you against one of them, and do all that you can for even a drop of their blood. From it, your strength will be greatly increased. Then they will fall to you with ease.”
***
Within thirty minutes the black storm had darkened and advanced over the field of battle. Dracula’s minions advanced behind the line of wild animals, and the entire force spread out in a long line, so as to impose their superior numbers against the much smaller pack. Dracula sat atop his horse at the center of the army with rows of guards encircling him.
“Fools,” he scoffed, surveying the field and the outnumbered pack. “You have wasted your chance to employ Spartan tactics against us in the tight spaces of the forest. You have given away your advantage for sake of honor. And now your battle formation borrowed from Alexander will fail. A brave idea, but you have not the numbers to succeed.”
For a moment the bat creature laughed to himself, reveling in the victory he would soon enjoy. He wiped blood from his foul lips and then shouted the order for the wild animals to attack.
At the vampire’s command, nearly three hundred wild animals began a fur
ious stampede. The ground shook under their weight. Hundreds of thousands of pounds of brute muscles and claws and teeth, antlers and hooves, charged at the pack. It was the kickoff of a wild Super Bowl.
Across the field, Joseph walked at the front of the arrowhead formation. He began trotting, head low, ears back and eyes fixed ahead. The pack moved behind him, in unison, like one massive body. They picked up speed, staring into the faces of the bears and wolves and huge moose charging them. The wild animals were slightly outnumbered by the pack, but they were still a formidable force.
Then, as Joseph and the elders had expected, as the wild animals drew nearer, they began to slow. The nearer they came to the lords of the forests, they less power Dracula’s dark spell of suggestion held over them. Seeing the great pack, they began to remember that they were wild animals who answered to none. The wolves they revered. The bat creature whispering lies in their minds they surely did not.
The line of animals slowed to a confused walk. They shook their heads, ridding themselves of the vampire’s voice. Then, something like the scene out of Braveheart, they met in the middle with their former, supposed enemies, and then joined rank with the forest lords. They turned and faced the army of ragged human converts who cared nothing for the natural world or their dark leader, but like him, craved only the taste of blood.
They charged.
***
Dracula’s eyes opened wide. His spell was broken. He shook with rage, then screamed in a voice like the wind for the infantry of three thousand vampires to attack in one big wave.
His mindless masses could only obey their master. Their only weapons were sticks and stones. They ran, faster than any human, and collided with a line of wild animals that far outweighed them and sent them reeling and spinning. Some were torn in half or impaled on moose antlers. Others were ripped apart by bears and wolves and coyotes and even foxes and bobcats.
One brave little chipmunk held out a stick and tripped one of the vamps by poking the stick through a looped shoelace. The vampire, who happened to be a female convert, staggered and fell headfirst into the waiting jaws of a wolf, who promptly liberated her screeching head from her undead torso.
“Wow, did you see that?” Evie asked her mom.
“See it?” Janie said. “That was the worst scream I’ve ever heard. I’ll have nightmares about that sound.”
Just behind the front line, Joseph Snow and a group of seasoned elders turned sharply to the right, moving out from the arrowhead formation. They ran parallel with the long line of vampires, and just as Alexander had proven thousands of years before, the left flank of the enemy line saw the movement and took the bait.
Once several hundred vampires had turned to follow the breakaway wolves, Joseph and his team watched for the perfect moment, then cut back sharply to the left and dove into the opening the vampires had left in their line. The wolves ran full speed and carved through their disoriented foes, essentially cutting Dracula’s huge force in half, like a spear point piercing and displacing soft flesh. What little order there had been in the army soon fell apart, and the forces of the undead descended into total chaos, fighting only defensively.
Dracula, still atop his horse, saw Joseph coming straight for him. His white fur was stained with blood from slashing foes in passing. His green eyes were terrifying. The vampire could feel himself being stalked. He knew he was mere seconds from the most brutal fight of his life.
With a roar of anger he unfurled his wings and took flight. His startled horse fled, and the white wolf snapped at his bat-like feet, his terrible jaws clicking just inches from them. He came to a rest on a thick branch of a leafless maple tree.
Looking down at his foes, the vampire was too overcome with rage and fear to even attempt to shout orders. His force still outnumbered the wolves, but he could not deny the terrible proof of his eyes. Within a few more minutes he would be down to less than a thousand of his weakest fighters, after the bravest leading the charge. The battle still raged, but it was already determined. Dracula was beaten and he knew it. The limbs and heads of his converts were being torn off by the second in every direction of the disorganized fight. Screams of agony filled the air. The ground was stained dark with spilled blood.
All the while the white wolf glared up at him. Through his snarls he called to him, “You have no honor!”
***
“They’re falling back to the woods,” Evie said. “I can’t see what’s happening. Where’s Papa?”
“Let’s get a little closer,” Janie said.
They climbed down from the treehouse. Moved passed the terrified Fog brothers as they hugged one another and shivered. Staying low, mother and daughter crept closer to the battle.
***
Dracula stood in the tree, contemplating his options. He could simply fly away and start a new army. That would be the wisest move. But he knew he would be seen evermore as a coward. Without respect, how could he enjoy power? How could he intimidate and lord over those who knew he would turn and flee at any moment?
He looked down. There was a bear climbing the trunk of the maple tree. Another bear began climbing another nearby tree. More came. In all seven or eight bears were trying to surround him and force him into a decision.
“I must fly,” he said to himself. “I must endure.”
Then, from below, he heard the white wolf calling him a coward. Challenging him to come down and face him. The words pierced him like blades. His hateful eyes flared, and he transformed into a single bat that began fluttering east.
Instantly the bat was accosted by swooping owls. It dropped lower and lower, until finally Dracula took his lowest form by transforming into thousands of rats. If he was to flee, he would flee every which way, not in the open sky for all to see and mock and attack.
The wolves reacted quickly. What rats that made it into the trees escaped their jaws, but those who could not zig and zag and find cover fast enough were crushed between the jaws of great wolves and common wolves and coyotes.
Screaming with rage, Dracula recalled himself to his large bat form. At least a quarter of the rats had been killed, and instantly he felt how much weaker he was. He was also standing on the ground, surrounded on all sides. The last of his converts were being torn apart before his eyes. Their screams pierced him like taunts.
He made up his mind. If he had suffered the humiliation of imprisonment for hundreds of years, he could survive the humiliation of fleeing from these wolves in his most powerful form, a form that no owl or eagle could threaten.
He spread his spiny wings and began to rise.
But this time he did not escape.
A wolf lunged at him from behind and clamped down on one of his wings. Dracula fell back to earth. At the order of the old white wolf he was released, and he stood and faced his enemy, his only hope being for the wing to heal fast enough to allow him to escape.
The wolves formed a large circle around the vampire and the leader of the Snows. All were stained with blood and many were favoring injuries from fierce battle. Even Joseph Snow was favoring an injured foreleg.
“So it is your way,” seethed Dracula, glaring hatefully at the old Snow.
“Not my way,” Joseph returned. “All this carnage and gore was your will, not mine.”
Dracula said nothing to that. He feigned a smile, exposing his teeth. Then he lunged at the massive wolf with every ounce of strength and rage within him. The two met in a collision of fury and snarls. Tumbling and rolling, the vampire sought a hold with his strong arms and a chance to bite and draw powerful blood from the great wolf. All this while the white wolf snapped and spun and darted for a death grip with his mighty jaws.
***
Evie and Janie finally quit sneaking and transformed into wolves. They came up on the huge circle and pushed their way through the huddled bodies for a glimpse of the battle. Both were whining with deep concern, though the larger battle was already won. Joseph Snow meant the world to his daughter and granddaughter.
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Amid the furious chaos of the fight, two things happened in Dracula’s favor, and they happened within a second or two. Though engrossed in battle, the elder Snow’s great senses alerted him to the presence of his daughter and granddaughter. Then, a second later, he was aware of another presence.
His brother.
In the momentary distraction, Dracula gained a hold on Joseph’s injured foreleg. Before the wolf could repel his grip with his snapping jaws, the vampire wrenched the foreleg, snapping the bone so that it protruded from the leg. The white wolf issued a sharp cry of pain.
Dracula stood back long enough to enjoy the sight of the injured wolf struggling to rise onto three legs. He moved his wings, feeling that the injured one was not quite yet ready for flight. Then he looked around, half expecting to be blindsided by another wolf.
He was partially right.
But instead of being blindsided by one of the closest wolves, instead, in turning he saw the circle parting, allowing a dark figure to push through. He did not know that this massive black wolf was Abel, Joseph’s wild brother, but the vampire sensed the peril of his great presence all the same. He was massive and he moved without the appearance of nerves or concern. His hackles were rigid like porcupine quills.
For an instant the vampire contemplated his options. Dive on the white wolf and get his blood, or attempt flight with his wounded wing. In his mind’s eye he saw the memory of a child he had fed on. That child had recently watched The NeverEnding Story, and the fear and awe that child had felt for the creature G’mork struck him now suddenly with a chilling dread that was all too real. This approaching wolf was possibly more terrible than G’mork. The eyes were differently colored, like coals, and the cool menace of his glare and the gleam of his fangs out of his dark bulk shivered the vampire’s upright corpse.
For the first time since he’d been set free, Dracula wished he was back in his black and silent tomb under Oak Island.