26. The Complexity of Floors

Four more warehouses and two factories later, he and Harlow were so covered in blood that anyone who saw them would probably think either they were a victim of some crime, or…more likely…escaped psychopaths who had just gone on a stabbing spree. Though, Harlow's color choice did him a favor when it came to hiding blood—Foxx's not so much. While they hadn't run into any more zombies, they had come across quite a few vampires. Foxx was pretty sure that the maximum estimate of fifty they'd been given had been way too low.

Feeling beyond knackered, he eyed the night sky as they drove towards their final stop. The sun had set hours ago, and while Foxx had removed his face shield completely, he left the rest of the sun suit on because it was already ruined at this point, so why ruin the clothes underneath too?

And while, sure, he could have kept his face clean with the shield, he'd discovered early on that it wasn't worth it. Because keeping glass clean when dealing with constant blood splatter was a nightmare. To even be able to see, Foxx had to clean the damn thing constantly.

Yawning, he asked, "Are we almost there?"

By the Goddess did he want to sleep.

"Yes." Harlow glanced over at him. "Drink some blood. You held off before in case you possibly needed the boost at the end… Well, this is the end, so drink."

"Are you holding up fine?"

"I'm good. At least, I"m good enough to finish off one last batch of bastards."

Foxx squinted at the man suspiciously. "Would you let me know if you weren't?"

Harlow sighed, and flicked an irritated look his way. "I'm fine, Foxx."

"If you die because you refused to tell me you were too knackered to fight, I'm going to be pissed."

The human rolled his eyes. "Start drinking your blood, brat."

Foxx hmphed. Twisting, he reached back and lifted the fridge lid. Gathering three bags in his arms, he snagged a metal straw from the baggy inside before letting the lid close shut.

Straightening up, he dropped two of the blood bags in his lap, and popped the metal straw into the one he was still holding. Foxx sighed at his first sip, the blood instantly taking the edge off the headache that had started to develop the longer he'd stayed awake. By the time he finished the bag, the headache was gone, even though he still felt a little tired.

Harlow reached back and grabbed something. Foxx's brow rose as he handed him a gallon-sized zip-lock bag. "For the empties."

Foxx took it and discarded his empty bag into it. Setting it down in his lap, he grabbed another blood bag, and was about to stab his straw into it when Harlow asked, "What does it taste like?"

Foxx frowned. "Well… You've tasted blood before, I'm sure."

"Yes…?"

"Well, similar to that, but sweeter, and a bit salty, I suppose. I don't know, it's hard to explain. From what I remember when I was human, it definitely doesn't taste exactly like it did then. I"d say there is still a bit of that coppery taste, but mostly, it"s got this nice, almost nutty salty-sweet taste. Though, that is only bagged blood. Fresh definitely has a wider range of flavors, even if the coppery taste is always there."

"I see…"

"Yeah…" Foxx said slowly, before bringing the straw to his lips and starting his second bag.

Foxx drank that down, and he was just finishing his third and final bag when Harlow turned onto the street with the office building they were looking for.

Eyeing the high rise, he absentmindedly put both the straw and the empty bag into the zip-lock, sealing it before tossing it in the back.

"I'm surprised you are getting us this close…" Foxx mused. "No plans to park a mile away?"

"They know we are coming, so there"s no point. But you may want to send a text to Charity, telling her that we will probably have the cops called on us, so she can give them a heads-up to not interfere," Harlow said as he calmly maneuvered into a parking spot on the street, only a few cars away from the building.

Texting would be a good idea, because anyone who noticed them seemed to be stopping to stare. Foxx pulled out his phone and shot off a quick text to Charity, before returning it to his pocket.

Glancing out of the window, he winced as he caught the gaze of an older man outside who was looking like he was about to pass out. He gave a hesitant smile and a little wave. The guy gulped and hobbled away, pretty quickly for a human that age, he had to say.

Ignoring the power walking old man, he eyed the building again and listened. "It's not as empty as they claimed, that's for sure."

"Well, we already knew that," Harlow drawled. "Based on those blueprints, there"s no way they would have not used the building for something. Though…with it being in such an active part of the city, we are going to have to chain the doors."

Foxx groaned, "Really?"

"Yes…at least until they are all dead. We can't risk them trying to take someone hostage. And I'm going to have to handle that myself because you won't be able to touch the chains."

"I can touch scripture chains, I just can't break them or sit around holding them for hours. Also, you do realize they could just break a window, right?"

"They could, but this will at least slow them down a bit." Harlow eyed him before adding, "You can wait in the car while I do it."

Foxx frowned. Wait in the car? "Why would I wait in the car?"

"You don't like chains."

His eyes widened. "You're worried I'll freak out…?"

"I'm not worried you'll freak out. I just know the last time you saw chains, you did."

Fuck a duck, why was the man doing this to him?! He was supposed to be a psychotic asshole, by the man's own definition of himself! Sweet shouldn't have even entered the equation.

Ugh…he really wanted to yell at him to stop fucking with him. But the bastard would probably have no bloody clue what he was even talking about if he did.

Foxx took a deep calming breath and said, "Harlow, I'm not going to freak out on seeing chains. Besides, how am I going to get in if you chain all the doors?"

"I can leave the front for last."

"It's fine. I'm fine." He unbuckled his seatbelt. "There are only three of them to chain. Let's just do this and get it over with."

Harlow eyed him silently for a moment, before grunting, "If you say so."

"I do." Foxx looked at the building again, frowning on noticing just how close the surrounding buildings were. "We won't be able to set it on fire… It's…too close to the other buildings."

"It'll be tight…and we will have to call the fire department to monitor it, but the ash barrier should keep it contained. It's big, but not too big…and unlike that one hotel, there isn't trash fucking everywhere. It would be more of a worry if it was windy tonight, but it's not."

"If you say so." Foxx frowned, staring at the probably twelve inches between the buildings before his gaze flicked back to their target. "There are a lot of people in there… I'd say, probably the fifty that were first estimated, but not on the same floor…though they do seem to be moving around now."

He tilted his head and tried to listen to just the sounds coming from that direction.

"Vampires, the lot of them… No dead bodies, so it"s unlikely we will run across any zombies again. But…there is someone badly injured inside."

The person's breathing was labored, and their heartbeat was sluggish in a way that suggested injury and not deep sleep.

"Then Kinley, Hanes' partner, is alive?"

"We didn't find his body in the other places, so unless someone else pissed them off, it must be him."

"What floor?"

"Third. There are others with him. Do you want to clear the three floors below before going there?"

"No, our first objective is to get to the hunter…" Harlow slowly trailed off, the man turning to look at him with an accusing glare. "You didn't count the first floor as a floor, did you?"

Foxx wrinkled his nose. "I counted the first floor..."

"Not the… Fucking hell, Foxx. The ground floor is the first floor."

"No…it's the ground floor. The floor above that is the first."

"Just get out of the damn car," Harlow growled. The human got out without another word, slamming the door behind him.

"Why are you getting all pissy?! It's not my fault you all don't understand floors!" Foxx huffed as he jumped out.

"Right… It's all of us that are wrong, not you!" Harlow deadpanned.

"Good of you to realize!" Foxx said sweetly.

Standing there in front of the Jeep, he waited for Harlow to grab whatever he needed to from the boot.

But really, like, why did they have to make it so difficult? Ground floor, first floor, obviously they"re not the same thing!

Pulling out one and then the other, he checked to make sure his adorable sparkly rainbow Desert Eagle pistols were ready to go. He hadn't bothered grabbing them for the first two buildings, but he had after that, because constantly getting blinded by blood splatter due to his close combat fighting had gotten annoying fast.

He definitely needed to majorly clean them later, and replace the chest holster. He doubted the pink would ever return to what it once was with all the blood on it.

Keeping one in his hand, while he re-holstered the other, Foxx glanced over at the sound of a horror filled gasp. He sent the woman nearby a friendly smile, with dimples and everything. Her eyes widened, and like the old man, she fled. Whatever, she was not his problem.

Harlow finally came back around, carrying an armful of thick scripture-covered chains. Foxx, despite saying he'd be fine, found his heart oddly speeding up at the sight of them. He quickly averted his eyes as they approached the building.

"Why don't you wait by the front door while I chain up the other two," the human suggested.

"Works for me—" Foxx flinched, his words cutting off at the sound of a scream. He glanced over in disgust at the woman standing a few feet away from them. "Bloody hell, people are so dramatic."

"Well, we do look like a horror show right now," Harlow chuckled.

"We cleaned our faces! They could at least appreciate the effort."

"Somehow, I don't think it makes up for the solid coat of blood over the rest of us. Anyway, I'll be right back."

The human jogged away, disappearing around the building, and Foxx went back to waiting…grateful that the chains were now out of sight. He really wished his head would fucking fix itself already.

After talking with Harlow about one of his nightmares…he had felt a little bit better than before…

Bloody hell, was everyone else right… Could talking to someone about everything possibly help him?

Yeah, because talking to that Johannsson guy had been sooo fucking helpful, he thought with sigh. But maybe…someone else…could be helpful.

Fuck, he didn't know.

The sight of Harlow jogging back, seemingly just moments after he left, only one thick chain remaining in his hands, made Foxx realize he had completely zoned out.

"Finished up?" he asked.

"All except the front door." The human tried the door on reaching him. "Locked."

Foxx rolled his eyes. "We are trying to keep them in, and they are trying to keep us out…such stupid logic." He grabbed the door handle and yanked, breaking the lock. Smirking up at Harlow, he said, "Let's fuck these assholes up, shall we?"

"After you, brat."

Foxx stepped inside, stopping in the middle of a small entryway area with beige walls and blue speckled carpet. A desk was against the wall in front of him, and above there were signs, with pictures of a lift and restrooms pointing to the right, and one with stairs to the left. Which he would have known without the sign as they'd looked at the building blueprints.

Foxx glanced both left and right, listening in case anyone tried to approach them, while Harlow came in behind him and worked on chaining the last door.

When the man had finished, he said, "No one is left on this floor. Lift or stairway?"

"They could trap us in the elevator by cutting the power," Harlow stated as he came up and stood beside him.

"Good point! Stairs it is! Just thought I'd make the suggestion since there are five people waiting for us there."

"Of course there are."

The thing about fighting vampires was that they could hear him just as well as he could hear them.

He glanced back, eyeing the chains and thick lock. "You have the keys, right?"

"I have all the keys safely zipped in an inner pocket, so no worries."

Nodding, Foxx headed towards the door to the left that was marked stairway. Peeking through the small window upon reaching it, at the same time, he slipped into his bloodline powers. Their golden lines lit up…and he wasn't surprised at what he found. Young…just as the other ones had been. Some not even a hundred. "Ahh, babies again," he sighed.

"They're about to be dead babies. Weapons?"

"Guns. Which, I mean, we figured, since all the rest had them."

"Type?"

"More of the same. Pistols of some kind. Likely semi-automatic."

"Try to not get shot."

"Right!"

Pulling out his other gun, Foxx kicked the door open with his foot, leaping forward as the firing started. He aimed and pulled the trigger when he was still midair.

The back of two vampire's heads burst out in a spray of blood as his bullets hit them square between the eyes, their screams turning ear piercing when the bullets expanded and released holy water inside them.

As those two dropped, Foxx landed with both knees slamming into the face of the vampire who'd been standing between the two he just shot. Before the other two had time to react, they were falling as well with matching bullets between the eyes, the shots coming from behind Foxx.

The vampire beneath him snapped out of his daze and reached for him, but Harlow was there, plucking Foxx up with one arm as he fired a shot off with the other—zero expression on his face.

"About as skilled as the last ones," Harlow grumbled as he set Foxx on his feet. "I just don't see how they took Hanes down."

"Sometimes all it takes is dumb luck to win. Even these idiots, as young as they are, are capable of ripping someone's heart out. But…maybe more than one near the top of the hierarchy is older? We know at least one is old enough to make zombies…even if they were shitty."

"Maybe… I guess we will see what his partner has to say, if it's actually him waiting for us on the fourth floor."

"Third," Foxx corrected.

Harlow rolled his eyes. "Let's behead these fuckers and get going."