Bloodline: Book Two Blood Hunt
Hellblazer #8 August, Year One	by Curt Fernlund

I was never one for school. I probably mentioned that a time or two, but I do like t’ get the point across. It wasn’t schooling so much as it was the classes ‘n’ the learning ‘n’ the obstinate bastards that tried to drum their outdated ideas into me ‘ead. All that aside, it wasn’t so bad. All me mates were there, so it was the place t’ be.

‘Course too there was the food. That was a bloody horror every day. An’ the ‘omework was a right pain in the arse, when I actually did it. Like I didn’t ‘ave enough going on at ‘ome without trying t’ figure out me multiplication tables with me Da slappin’ me about the ‘ead ‘n’ shoulders.

Growing up was not the ‘Archers’ for me…

Kids today don’t know how good they ‘ave it. Back in my day I didn’t ‘ave no Play Station or X Box. I didn’t ‘ave any CD’s or DVD’s, no PC’s ‘n’ DVR’s. No Internet. Hell I was lucky I had me a little two-pound transistor radio with an earplug. Me Da ran the telly, ‘n’ we watched what he wanted depending on ‘is mood ‘n’ how much beer was in the icebox. Yeah, no refrigerator either.

To ‘ear them tell it, the whole world’s against ‘em. Kids, they run the streets in their designer blue jeans whinin’ about their mother ‘n’ father ‘n’ how they got no money ‘n’ no job, no future. The birds are droppin’ babies like flies ‘n’ the blokes are roughing up the gentry ‘n’ the dregs one ‘n’ the same. They’re all tough talk. All invincible like they can’t be hurt, they’ll never die. Bloody invulnerable they are.

We ‘ad our Tuffs back in the day too I suppose. Trick lads with that mod look: leather jacket ‘n’ a dapper hair cut. Rough you up for your lunch money ‘n’ smoke fags out back of the gymnasium. Those were the days I guess.

I miss ‘em sometimes, I gotta admit.

Kids today jus’ ain’t got no respect…

So there I was, on me arse ‘n’ up against the wall of me own flat…

I’d come home after a miserable night of celebrating the American’s Thanksgiving Day. Me mates were out, ‘n’ me sister Cheryl was off in the South of France with Gemma ‘n’ her latest beau. I was alone, nothing new there, but feeling jus’ a bit sorry for meself. Nothing new there either I imagine. Thing was I’d jus’ seen a crime scene that hit way too close t’ home.

Seems this solicitor bloke got offed on ‘is way t’ work. Right bloody mess that was, ‘n’ worse’n anyone deserves, ‘anging by ‘is ‘eels in the back of an alley, bleedin’ out like a pig for the slaughter. Bloody awful it was, ‘n’ I seen some sights, let me tell you.

Thing that caught me eye though was the fact that the bloke bore more’n a striking resemblance t’ yours truly. Same hair, same coat ‘n’ suit more or less, even the same face to a point. It was chillin’ I’ll say. Made ‘em shrivel right proper t’ see meself ‘angin’ there, or close enough.

Crushers gave me the bum’s rush ‘course. Got a bit of insight ‘til the M.E. got a good look ‘n’ told me t’ push off. Me old mate C.I. Watford was runnin’ the circus, so of course he ‘ad t’ pry a bit. What’re you doin’ here, Constantine? What d’you know, Constantine? Can ye save me job, Constantine? Bloody broken record that one. Met a bird too. Nice little lass name a’ Lumbley. Detective Inspector Lumbley I should say. She ‘ad a way ‘bout ‘er ‘n’ cut a fine figure as well. Wouldn’t mind seein’ that one in a dark alley, if you know what I mean?

Wink, wink, nudge, nudge…

Still, the whole thing left a bad taste in me mouth. The bloke looked too much like me, ‘n’ he was killed in a nasty way too close t’ home. Was it a message? I dunno, but I couldn’t get the poor sod’s bloodless body outta me ‘ead. I thought about it all the way ‘ome, rollin’ it about in me mind, but I was a blank when I got back t’ me flat on Bedford. That’s when the shit ‘it the fan-

Some kids ‘ad busted into me flat, ‘n’ I found ‘em waitin’ for me when I came in the door. Rude boys they were, punk tuffs what thought they was all that. Busted me window they did, ‘n’ ‘ad a right jolly time messin’ me shit about. I didn’t mind the robbin’ so much- that’s life, but they got into me stuff, ‘n’ that I take personal.

There was three of ‘em: two burly boys ‘n’ a skinny bloke what called the shots. Little bitch talked like I should know ‘im while he was roughin’ me up. Slammed me right against the wall he did, getting in my face like he was somebody. Another poser I thought, little shit with more balls ‘n’ brains. He didn’t know who he was fuckin’ with though, or so I thought…

They were Vampires, the lot of ‘em, ‘n’ the little shit checker-head what was leading ‘em ‘ad a grudge with me something fierce…

“You’re dead, old man!”

Little bastard was all in me face, spittin’ ‘n’ cursin’ with every other word, leaning in whilst I gathered me strength up against the wall he’d slammed me into. He looked like some 80’s throwback with ‘is dirty dungarees ‘n’ checkerboard buzz cut. I didn’t ‘ave the heart t’ tell ‘im that the 80’s was over. I puffed on me Silk Cut, getting’ a good glow ‘n’ blowin’ the smoke in ‘is face-

“Sounds like you got issues, son. Care to elaborate?”

He blinked, baring ‘is teeth. He was a newborn I could tell. They’re all flash ‘n’ pomp after they get turned, thinkin’ they can take on the world with their powers. Worse kids of all, thinking they’re invincible.

“Mary wants you mage, but I want you too! Gonna rip out yer heart, old man! Suck the blood out ‘n’ spit it up yer arse!”

If I had a pound for every time I ‘eard that I’d be living in Bedford Square ‘stead of Bedford Street. I gave the boy me best ‘eat-shit’ smile ‘n’ pulled on me fag again. Almost there…

“Cheeky bastard!” he squealed ‘n’ slapped me with the back of ‘is ‘and. I heard ‘is mates chuckling as I licked the blood off the corner of me lips. It hurt, I’ll give ‘im that. Bloody undead don’t know their own strength sometimes. Still, I’d ‘ad enough of this-

I waited ‘til he leaned in close. He ‘ad ‘is ‘and wrapped up in me collar ‘n’ the spittle was flying as he started in calling me every foul name ‘e could think of. His mates were laughin’ in the background, relaxing, thinking there was no problem with an old bloke like me. I rolled me fag about, bitin’ down when I ‘ad it glowin’ all proper-

“Eat this, bitch!” I said grittin’ me teeth, leanin’ forward. I rammed the tip of me fag into the little bastard’s eye!

He let go of me jacket right fast, ‘is ‘and going up t’ his eye as ‘e staggered back. His eye socket was smoking something fierce, ‘n’ I was happy to see he was squealing like a little girl. He stumbled back ‘n’ away, ‘n’ I shifted me legs t’ make certain he fell on ‘is arse. He sprawled, whining like a baby as he ‘eld the smoldering remains where ‘is eye used t’ be. His mates jus’ stared like posts while he was thrashing about. More the better.

I scrambled to me feet in the confusion of course, but by the time I got t’ me feet the Beagle Boys were chargin’ forward t’ see how they could ‘elp. They were slow, ‘n’ under better circumstances I’d ‘ave been able t’ take them with a word. I was dry though. I’d squandered me lesser spells lightin’ me fags ‘n’ keepin’ the rain off earlier. Everything I’d set up that mornin’ was spent. Who knew?

I charged forward though whilst they was flexing their sizable muscles. They were moving in while I was moving out. I ‘ad a plan in mind, ‘course it meant getting by Moose ‘n’ Squirrel- not a happy thought at the moment.

Like I said though, they were slow, ‘n’ despite the fact that they were Vampires, they still ‘ad their weak spots. Over the last few weeks I’d learned a new maneuver that seemed to work best on the male of the species. Hell, I’d been on the receiving end so much lately I’d started thinkin’ it was something natural. I ran up on Thug Number One as he was moanin’ ‘n’ lumbering like a zombie. I reared back and landed the tip of me shoe square in ‘is bollocks. He crumpled…

His mate wasn’t too swift on the uptake. Sorry t’ say it seemed that Checker-head was the brains of the group. I slammed into Thug Number Two whilst he was tryin’ t’ catch ‘is mate from hittin’ the floor. They tangled up right nice as I ran past, making a dash for the broken window.

I knew I was out matched. Hell, I’m no idiot. Three Vampires ‘n’ me with no spells meant a bad time for John Constantine. I dove through the broken window like the First was on me arse ‘n’ tumbled out onto the fire escape.

It was still raining ‘course. Buckets droppin’ outta the sky jus’ t’ make me day. I scrambled t’ me feet ‘n’ took a quick look about. I needed to get the fuck out of here before me guests gathered their wits ‘n’ did the dirty with me.

I knew from past inspection that the fire escape was for shit. I could run up or down of course, but the ladder at the bottom was rusted solid. I’d have a twenty foot jump if I went that way, ‘n’ these old bones ain’t what they used t’ be. Runnin’ up was no better. Getting trapped on the roof was not something I relished, ‘n’ figured I be better off tryin’ me luck with the leap a’ death!

The wind was whipping something fierce now, ‘n’ the rain was blasting at me almost sideways as I started off towards the rickety stairs. I was slippin’ ‘n’ slidin’ with every step, but I kept going, knowing I ‘ad to get away. I almost shit when the cable wire flicked out ‘n’ slapped me in the face. Me upstairs neighbor apparently ‘ad splurged ‘n’ hooked up t’ cable telly. Can’t say as I blame ‘em. BBC 1 ‘n’ 2 ain’t for shite lately. The National Dart Championships, local football, the Shipping News after hours… Any wonder I don’t watch the telly?

Still, mores the pity. I glanced out over the rail ‘n’ saw the wire hangin’ all the way down t’ the junction box fixed t’ the side of the building. A quick exit stage down if ever I saw one. I got a good grip on the wire, hearin’ the bully boys back in me flat still whining but getting their collective acts together.

“Fuck it…”

I jumped over the rail…

Me ‘ands were burnin’ somethin’ fierce by the time I hit bottom, ‘n’ I do mean hit. I figured the rain would’ve slickened the wire enough t’ negate the friction, but then physics never was me strong suit. The Pleistocene rubber that coated the wire ate away at me skin ‘n’ I could feel the burn by the time me feet slammed down on the concrete of the alleyway.

I hit ‘ard too, like a sack of potatoes, sprawlin’ on me arse in a filthy puddle. Garbage cans went flyin’, ‘n’ a pair of alley cats yowled t’ high heaven when I interrupted their amorous affairs. Sorry mates.

I’m not too proud t’ admit that I was cryin’ like a babe ‘n’ hissin’ air through me teeth as I waved me ‘ands about. It hurt like bloody ‘ell, ‘n’ I could see blood wellin’ up in the palms of me raggedy ‘ands. Still, I had t’ get outta there, ‘n’ I scrambled back onto me feet, beatin’ down the alley with me ‘ands tucked up under me arms.

I wasn’t even outta the alley before I ‘eard the first of the BullyBoys stompin’ about on the fire escape. They were all yellin’, tryin’ t’ get a bead on me as I ducked around the corner ‘n’ high-tailed it up towards the Strand, but the heavy rain was messin’ with their senses. I hated t’ get innocents involved: that was one of those unwritten rules that blokes like me ‘n’ mine are supposed t’ live by. However, I was fucked at the moment ‘n’ needed t’ lose meself, ‘n’ no better place to do that than inna crowd.

‘Course, the Constantine luck was holding true t’ form as I’d blanked on the fact that it was a sort of pseudo holiday here in London, or at least in Soho on the Strand. Most of the shops were closed up due to the late hour ‘n’ outta respect for the American’s Thanksgiving. Bloody load that, jus’ an excuse t’ take holiday ‘n’ literally left me out in the cold. I knew already that me best bet, the Coal Hole was locked up tight, ‘n’ Bob me Dwarfen mate was no where t’ be found. The Griffin up the other way was probably closed too, the weather keepin’ the tourists- their main clientele- off the streets. Screw you, Constantine…

I could see the lights of Sanje’s NewsAgents’ glowin’ up the street. Sandy never closed, never took a day off as far as I knew, but I couldn’t go there. Sanje was an Indian, ‘n’ no stranger t’ the wild side of the neighborhood, but good soul that he was he was still mundane. The vampires would rip ‘im t’ shreds, ‘n’ I didn’t need that on me conscience jus’ now. I turned ‘n’ ran the other way, away from the light.

Thinkin’ of Sandy though, I remembered who Checker-head was, or used t’ be. He was one of the local punk kids that ran the streets with ‘is mates. They’d pushed up into Sandy’s awhile back doin’ a bit of snatch ‘n’ dash for some beer ‘n’ snacks. I guess I was a bit rattled that I didn’t recognize the thugs right off, or maybe the whole vampire look twisted ‘em enough, but at least now I knew why they ‘ad such an’ ‘ard on for me.

I charged down the Strand towards Trafalgar Square, the first inkling of a plan formin’ in me ‘ead. I was wondering of course how the little wankers had got turned ‘n’ figured at first that it ‘ad somethin’ t’ do with that bit of silliness last All-Hallows Eve up in Gloucester. That was a blood bath that I really would’ve liked to ‘ave given a pass, but when the Stranger comes a callin’, well it’s ‘ard t’ say no sometimes. Seemed the Cult of the Blood Red Moon was rearing its ugly head again with some mad scheme to separate Jason Blood from ‘is own personal demon. I dropped me wrench in that bit ‘n’ bollocks-ed up the works right nice. ‘Course I pissed on the wrong lot in the process ‘n’ pretty much got the vampire nation, not t’ mention Etrigan the Demon on me arse. Not a nice prospect, but then I’ve ‘ad worse…

I reached Duncannon, stoppin’ jus’ a minute t’ catch me breath. Me ‘ands were screamin’ bloody murder ‘n’ burnin’ somethin’ fierce when I reached into me pockets t’ get a fag. I was shakin’ from the cold ‘n’ the exertion as I sparked me Zippo tryin’ t’ hold the fire on the tip of me Silk Cut. I never was one for runnin’, ‘n’ damned if I wasn’t feelin’ me age. Visions of Danny Glover danced through me ‘ead as I scanned the Square ahead of me ‘n’ took a look down the side streets with Oscar Wilde at me back. I could see that the Griffin was shut up tight, but beyond that was Charing Cross Station ‘n’ the Arches. There was clubs there, a Disco called Heaven point of fact, but it was just a name ‘n’ not sacred ground. Beyond that was the Charing Cross steps down t’ the Embankment ‘n’ the Thames.

Normally I’d high tail it out across the river. Most normal vampires have an aversion to water runnin’ fast ‘n’ strong. Really, it’s true! Way it was explained t’ me, it has something t’ do with the make up of their constitution. Like I said before, physics isn’t me strong suit, but a body- living or undead- is made up of some ungodly amount of water. Vampires being a shifty lot, that is shape-shifters, tend to manipulate that water when they turn t’ wolves ‘n’ bats, and especially mist. Part of the reason they need to drink blood is t’ replenish that moisture that they lose shiftin’ their mass. The blood’s a nutrient of course, but the pure liquid fuels their form. Still with me? Vampires don’t like t’ cross runnin’ water because they’re afraid they might fall in. Their bodies would naturally start soakin’ up the liquid. A lake or a pond is no problem as they can control their bodily functions to a degree t’ keep the excess water out. A heavy rain fucks ‘em up a bit, takin’ some of their concentration t’ keep the water off, but a river with a bit of force is generally too much for ‘em. Even a clogged slow churn like the Thames would bloat the buggers like a Japass Puffer ‘n’ they’d blow up real good.

Like I said, normally I’d take the Hungerford Foot Bridge out over the Thames figuring I’d be safe, and under regular circumstances that would be true. Checker-head ‘n’ ‘is mates weren’t normal however. They were Newborn, ‘n’ worse, they were kids that ‘ad that invulnerable mentality. They thought they’d live forever, ‘n’ if left alone they actually might. They wouldn’t think twice about followin’ me out over the river, ‘n’ I was in no shape t’ fight off the three of ‘em, hopin’ t’ get lucky ‘n’ dump ‘em in the drink.

That left runnin’ into the city for me, or-

I heard a row ‘n’ thought the punks were catchin’ up, but realized that the raucous was comin’ from the Square. I peered into the gloom ‘n jus’ ‘ad t’ smile. The Salvation Army was jus’ wrappin’ up their rally, ‘n’ like the good little soldiers they were, were headin’ out t’ spread the gospel of whatever god they were followin’. I’d kept saying that I was going to look into them someday, but right then I was damned ‘appy that I’d never gotten around to it.

I dashed out into the traffic, which was light due t’ the storm ‘n’ the hour, splashin’ through the puddles in the road as I headed for the closest group. I was already soaked t’ the bone. Me feet were soggy in me shoes ‘n’ me trenchcoat was drenched ‘n’ almost black with waterlog. I Turned me collar ‘n’ spit out me fag as I shouldered me way into the mob, hunchin’ me shoulders ‘n’ slouchin’ down. With a spark of inspiration I snatched the cap off the bloke in front of me doin’ me best Charles Bronson impression as I tried t’ blend in. Jus’ another one of the soldiers dressed in black and on the march.

I heard the Bully Boys come up onto the Square as we trudged towards Charing Cross Station. My group was headin’ for the Tubes it seemed, which was fine for me. If I could get onto a train unnoticed I’d be home free. I could hear Checker-head screamin’ ‘n’ cursin’ though, ‘n’ just as we reached the stairs leadin’ into the station I heard the Army start t’ squeal.

The vampires were tossin’ the Army about, apparently figuring what I’d done. The Army of course wasn’t about pacifism ‘n’ they started tossin’ back, ‘n’ before too long a right bloody row was in progress. Me, knowing a distraction when it slapped me in the face, made a mad dash down the steps.

I charged down into the station, taking the stairs at break neck speed ‘n’ slidin’ all over soon as I hit the tiles. I was runnin’ full out, down the escalators ‘n’ shovin’ past the few sods that were making their collective way elsewhere. I tried hurdling over the turnstile ‘n’ smashed flat on the platform, skinning me hands even more ‘n’ experiencing a new kind of pain. Still, I wasn’t safe yet ‘n’ gritted me teeth as I scrambled back t’ me feet and down the platform.

The wankers were lookin’ at me like I was death warmed over or somethin’, not that I cared mind, but I didn’t need t’ be the center of attention. It wouldn’t take much for me playmates t’ figure where I’d gone with a bit of a stare and a little presence thrown in for good measure. There was nothing for it though, ‘n’ I jus’ hoped that a train would come before me boys got downstairs.

I grabbed a shadowy corner ‘n’ tried t’ catch me breath again, jus’ for a moment. Some fat cow in a soggy faux fox coat pulled ‘er nose in the air ‘n’ moved on down the platform when I gave ‘er a smirk. Everybody was starin’ outta the corner of their eyes, ‘n’ I knew I was fucked. I didn’t hear a train; ‘n’ there wasn’t the slightest breeze from the tunnels. Lord knows what the storm was doin’ to the Tubes. I had t’ get away-

I swallowed me spit ‘n’ jumped down onto the tracks just as I heard me pursuers chargin’ onto the other end of the platform. They were still on me arse, but I’d put a few more steps between us. I ran down the tunnel into the darkness tryin’ t’ stay clear of the third rail. It was a mistake I knew immediately as they’d spot me right off with their night vision. I’d stick out like a sore thumb again in the dark, but I was getting tired: tired of runnin’, ‘n’ tired of runnin’ from those prinks even more.

It was time t’ make a stand…

It didn’t take me long to lose meself in the tunnels. The land under London’s a labyrinth of Tube tunnels, sewers, maintenance tunnels ‘n’ the like. Too, the deeper you go the worse it gets. There’s old streams and canals that got covered over as the city grew, ‘n’ old buildings ‘n’ such that became part of the foundation for the city we know and love today. I followed me nose through the darkness for the most part, hurrying along ‘n’ eventually leavin’ the tracks behind and sloshin’ down into the sewers.

It stank of course, but that was in me favor. Me vampire pursuers would hopefully lose track of me in the stench so long as I kept movin’ ‘n’ didn’t lose what was left of last night’s dinner. As I slopped me way along I felt jus’ a bit like the Bat ‘n’ I wondered how he managed this on a regular basis. Right about then I was wishin’ that I had me a Bat-Scuba tank, or at least me Bat-hanky soaked in me Bat-perfume. Me stomach was churnin’.

I kept headin’ down though, ‘n’ before long I found meself in an abandoned tunnel that looked t' be from the turn of the last century. There was an old gas line runnin’ along the wall, ‘n’ I could feel cobbles underfoot. The tunnel was slick with shit at the very least, ‘n’ the current was strong, the water high from the rain. There were rats runnin’ along the edges of the walkway that weren’t under water yet, but they were payin’ me no mind, which was a good sign. Either Checker-head ‘n’ ‘is mates didn’t know how t’ control the vermin yet, or they weren’t close enough. Either way I ‘ad some time t’ breathe.

Time t’ think…

I pulled a fag as I leaned against the wall. Luckily I smelled the methane before I sparked. A quick sniff ‘n’ I knew I would’ve been quick-fried had I lit up. I heard the hiss of gas about then, and a quick check of the gas line found the leak. The line probably used to supply the Victorian City with gaslight, ‘n’ British Gas ‘n’ Electric probably didn’t even know it was here let alone that it was leaking. Score one for the utilities.

“Constantine!” I heard Checker-head right about then, ‘is voice echoing down the tunnels. I couldn’t begin t’ figure how far they were away, or which direction, but it didn’t matter. I had a plan.

I gritted me teeth against the pain ‘n’ got a grip on the gas line just at the leak. I pulled as hard as I could, eventually bracin’ me foot against the slick wall. Finally the old, rusting metal gave at the puncture ‘n’ the line came away. I fell back into the slop, gagging on a mouthful of the worst the sewers had t’ offer as I struggled to get back onto me feet. As I rose up outta the trenches I saw the BullyBoys at the end of the tunnel, headin’ my way with red glowin’ eyes ‘n’ hissin’ like the snakes they were.

“You gave us a merry chase, old man!” Checker-head said as he slogged through the mire. His buddies were flanking him, ‘n’ I could see that the rats were in tow now as well. Wonderful!

“It’s over now though! You’re caught, mage. Give up ‘n’ maybe you’ll live t’ see Mary!”

Again with Mary. I had no idea what he was talkin’ about- or who. Only vampire Mary I knew was definitely dead, killed by Andrew Bennett when he took down the original Blood Red Moon. Not that I really cared, mind. It would nag at me though, eventually. I hate loose ends.

I let ‘em rant ‘n’ rave though, lettin’ ‘em slog closer, getting’ braver as it looked I was rooted t’ the spot, quakin’ in fear. Little that they knew I was shakin’ with exhaustion, ‘n’ the only fear I had was that I’d get fried when I played me ace. Jus’ a few more steps. A little more…

Checker-head’s eyes went wide as he realized what I was about. He saw me raise me ‘and ‘n’ flip the cap off me Zippo as I reached up for the open gas line. He screamed, but Moose ‘n’ Rocko weren’t too swift on the uptake. Checker-head dove under the slop as I flicked me thumb over the wheel, divin’ down meself when I saw the spark of flame. The last look on their faces made it all worth while…

I simply fell back into the mire, letting the stagnant water protect me. The world turned orange for a minute, ‘n’ I could feel the heat as fire engulfed the tunnel. I sank to the bottom, letting the slow flow of the current carry me a bit, but as soon as the glow faded I struggled t’ get me footin’ and stood up again, poking me ‘ead out of the water.

The heat was intense, ‘n’ the glare was almost blinding, but if I squinted I could jus’ see the skeletal remains of the burley brothers. Their dead skin ‘ad burned right off, and the tunnel smelt of charred flesh. I gagged, but there wasn’t a thing left in me stomach as I watched the two sway ‘n’ finally fall into the slop. Odds were that they’d regenerate. I didn’t have the time or opportunity to decapitate the skulls, stuff garlic or any of that. Checker-head rose up outta the quagmire right about then ‘n’ howled t’ bloody Hell over what I’d done to ‘is mates.

Have I mentioned that I’m not an idiot? I got me arse outta dodge ‘n’ ran for all I was worth…

I was breathing ‘ard as I made me way back up outta the tunnels. I’d found a tube that tilted up ‘n’ was fightin’ the current as I heard checker-head right on me arse. He was spittin’ ‘n’ cursin’, but bein’ the idiot he was he hadn’t turned to a bat or mist or anything that might catch me. He was caught up in ‘is rage, ‘n’ all his thoughts were on catchin’ me ‘n’ makin’ me pay. Fuck Mary, or whoever had turned ‘im. He was all about revenge, which was fine by me.

I sloshed along, keepin’ pace with the rats that were runnin’ for higher ground. The tunnels were filling fast, ‘n’ I knew that despite his rage, me boy was usin’ a goodly amount of concentration jus’ tryin’ t’ keep ‘is form together. That slowed ‘im down, which was good for me, ‘n’ made ‘im stupid too, which was even better. I ‘ad another plan by then.

I charged out of one tunnel and into one of the others, this one a water treatment station. There were pipes of every size ‘n’ shape runnin’ overhead, ‘n’ water pourin’ freely into the collection basin in the middle of the room. Somewhere beyond I imagined was a spill way that would shunt the flood waters out into the Thames despite the recent laws against waste. Hey, what the Conservatives didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them.

I trudged through the water, makin’ me way for an upper walkway that I hoped would lead me out of the mess I was in when I saw a series of valves and crank wheels lining one wall. No doubt the epicenter of the floodgates, set there to handle the overflow should the sewers start t’ flood. I wondered why there wasn’t a worker down her right then t’ deal with the mess, but figured they were stretched pretty thin. Fine! I was on me own.

I followed the pipe-work overhead, tryin’ t’ find a valve and wheel that I might use. Me plan was simple enough, ‘n’ obvious if you’ve been followin’ along, but I still had t’ make heads ‘n’ tails outta the machinery. Worse, I could hear Checker-head comin’ closer.

“Dead! You’re dead, old man! Bloody poof! Fuckin’ arse! Dead!”

Yeah, he was gone.

I saw him then at the bottom of the spillway, ‘n’ he saw me as well. He smiled, his teeth sparklin’ in the glow of the maintenance lights, his one good eye a fiery red-

“I’m gonna make this hurt, mage. You’re gonna suffer, bitch. Rip out yer lungs ‘n’ crush yer bollocks! Yer dead! Dead-“

“Yeah, yeah…”

I smirked ‘n’ laid me weight on what I hoped was the proper wheel. It took some effort as it hadn’t been cranked in awhile, but eventually I heard it groan ‘n’ whine ‘n’ start to turn. Checker-head paused as I splashed down into the water again, wondering what I was about. He started runnin’ at me then, but if he knew what I was up to I’d never know. I gave the wheel a hard crank, screamin’ me arse off as the rusty metal burned into the open sores in me ‘ands-

A rush of water spewed from one of the pipes overhead, catchin’ me punk-ass playmate square in the face. He screamed as he flew back, the force of the spray pinnin' him t' the far wall. He writhed about, tryin’ his best t’ fight the deluge but he was trapped, the strength of the flood too great. I could see ‘is body expanding as I kept on cranking on the wheel, opening the pipe to full. His face twisted as he tried to hold form, his body shimmering in the tumult. He opened ‘is mouth to scream, or curse me out, ‘n’ that jus’ made it all the quicker. I actually felt sorry for the stupid git for about a heartbeat. It wasn’t a pretty way t’ go.

He ‘blowed’ up real good, bits of flesh spewin’ about when ‘is body jus’ got too big. I got sprayed in the backlash, but at that point I didn’t really care. I was tired, ‘n’ the little shit got what he deserved. There was a bloody spot on the wall behind where he’d been, but it washed away in the spew from the pipe. I let the river run, jus’ t’ be sure…

I shook me Silk Cuts, but they were too water-logged t’ light. I needed a fag somethin’ fierce, but I’d have t’ wait. I sagged against the wall, gatherin’ me strength for a moment. I had a ways to climb yet before I could get outta the sewers ‘n’ the Tube tunnels.

It was about then that I noticed that the rats were all stopped ‘n’ starin’ at me. It was a queer sight t’ see about a couple dozen pair of beady eyes looking me up ‘n’ down like I was the next ticket on the menu. I looked about, wondering what was up ‘n’ why they weren’t headin’ for high ground all of a sudden.

Somethin’ slammed into the back of me ‘ead ‘n’ I staggered forward. Spots were dancin’ a fine Polka through me sight as I stumbled about in the slop, tryin’ me best t’ stay conscious. I couldn’t imagine what had happened. I’d gotten the three punks, got ‘em good.

Then it hit home, ‘bout the time somethin’ crashed into me skull again…

Back at Sandy’s, there ‘ad been four…

I woke feelin’ like shit.

Me ‘ead was poundin’ t’ beat the band, ‘n’ I could feel a goose egg the size of a golf ball on the back of me skull. It took a minute to come awake ‘n’ fight the unconsciousness away, but I did me best.

I was in a tiny, dark room but little by little me sight adjusted. It was cramped, ‘n’ if I didn’t know better I would ‘ave sworn I was in me own flat. It smelt of stale food ‘n’ sour mold. I could see a table piled high with books and there were clothes strewn all about. I was layin’ on the floor, on a lumpy mattress that ‘ad seen better days, full of urine stains ‘n’ other things I thought it best not t’ consider. Me ‘ands were tied tight behind me back ‘n’ throbbing in pain from me rope burns under me. I hurt like hell, but the pain ‘elped me focus.

I quickly realized that I was gagged as well. Someone ‘ad stuffed somethin’ foul in me mouth ‘n’ sealed it in with a scarf. I could grunt ‘n’ groan, but couldn’t articulate t’ save me life. Even if I ‘ad any spells in stock, I wouldn’t ‘ave been able to give ‘em voice. Somebody ‘ad done their homework ‘n’ I was fucked…

There was a dim light coming from a side corridor that led to another room. I looked that way, having nothing better t’ do ‘n’ saw someone’s shadows dancing about on the walls. My captor no doubt, whoever had snuck up on me in the tunnels. The mysterious Mary I figured, but of course I was wrong-

I screamed into my gag, tryin’ t’ get the attention of whoever was in the other room. I had a bad feeling that I was wrong, but I saw the shadows shift on the walls as me captor stopped whatever they were doing and headed my way. The footfalls were soft, ‘n’ the shadow was curvy. A woman then; Mary maybe, or-

“Hullo, John.”

April May grinned widely as she stepped from the other room. She looked fresh and happy to see me bound up like the Christmas goose ‘n’ helpless. She strolled right over and crouched down beside me, checkin’ me bonds ‘n’ gag t’ make sure they were still tight-

“Nnnn!” I grunted into me gag ‘n’ she giggled, slapping me upside the head to keep me quiet. I stared for a moment, shocked, then started to thrash about, tryin’ t’ get free. April laughed and stood-

“John, John, John…”

She strolled back towards the table, thumbing through the pages of one of the books with one hand whilst unbuttoning her blouse with the other. She cocked a hip, striking a pose as she glanced back at me with a seductive smirk. She was playing me, ‘n’ I could feel it working-

“You don’t ‘ave a clue do you? You don’t know what hell you made my life when you stepped in t’ save me. I was ‘appy, John Constantine. I ‘ad a man what loved me ‘n’ I was goin’ to the top. I weren’t no sacrifice, you ponce! I was in as deep as me mates, arsehole.”

I’d met April down in Whitechapel, at a school that was overrun with computer geeks that were dippin’ into the arcane. I’d thought that the main clique at the time was plannin’ t’ sacrifice poor April for the power of the virgin. ‘Pears I was wrong on that. I been wrong about a lot of things…

“Bradley was gonna make me a queen ‘n’ you came along t’ spoil the lot. What you didn’t know was I was just as deep into the whole spell craft as the rest were. I was willing t’ be the sacrifice, ‘cuz we’d found a spell that would’ve given us all what we wanted. Brad, Pam, Sean, all of us. We’d be ridin’ high right now if not for you, John Constantine. You took it all away…

“Luckily I found somethin’ else. I got transferred t’ Soho on account of you. I hooked up with Jimmy ‘n’ his boys, but then you stepped in again.” She turned ‘n’ I saw she had a rack on ‘er that wouldn’t quit, barely held in check by her bra. I could feel the familiar stirrin’ between me legs, tried t’ fight it. She was a little girl for god’s sake! She strolled my way, slippin’ outta the blouse. She stepped over me body ‘n’ tossed her shirt aside, her ‘ands goin’ for ‘er belt buckle-

“Jus’ couldn’t leave me be, could you? Jimmy ‘n’ ‘is gang were good t’ me John, but you jus’ had t’ butt in. What, thought you were doin’ the right thing? Savin’ poor April from herself ‘n’ the mean streets of Soho. Bastard…”

April undid her belt ‘n’ let ‘er blue jeans drop t’ her ankles. She stepped outta her pants ‘n’ kicked them away, runnin’ a hand through the waistband of ‘er panties. She squatted down on me chest, shufflin’ forward until ‘er snatch was just under me chin. I could smell ‘er; she was ‘ot ‘n’ wet.

“Mary showed up here not too long after that day you took me t’ the Coal Hole. She knew you, ‘n’ she knew us too, ‘n’ she offered us the power you’d stole if we joined up with her. I didn’t know at first what that meant, but I learnt quick. She turned me mates, but she wouldn’t do me, Constantine. I was pissed, but she wanted me pure. She knew you’d know somehow, but she laid it all out for me; what I had t’ do, what I should do. She promised me power, John Constantine. All’s I ‘ad t’ do was get you here. Right here…”

April saddled forward, her thighs clamping down on me ‘ead as she settled in. Me mouth ‘n’ nose were buried in ‘er snatch as she reached down ‘n’ pulled ‘er panties aside-

“Eat me, John,” she ordered, settling in and cutting off me air. With the gag I was limited ‘n’ tried to ‘old out, but I soon ran out of breath ‘n’ started to move about, hearin’ her moans-

“Yes!” she shouted, her voice a breathy gasp of ecstasy. I’ve tumbled the floor more ‘n’ a time or two ‘n’ never gotten a complaint, but this was wrong. I tried t’ resist, but I was gone, caught up in the moment. It was surprising how easy I went under. Somethin’ in the back of me ‘ead was yellin’ STOP, but I ignored it. I felt April fumblin’ at me trousers as she rode me face getting wetter by the second…

April shifted position and ripped away at her flimsy panties as she sprawled across me body. She was raping me, but try as I might, I couldn’t resist. She was underage, ‘n’ probably a virgin, but Little John was thinking for Big John right then as she grabbed hold and steered me in the proper direction…

“Give it to me, John. Make me a woman…” she whispered, her face pressing onto mine. She kissed, licking hotly at my ears and throat.

I screamed at her soft touch, her nails scratching into me tender flesh…

I moaned helplessly as she slid down, settling in, rocking, pumping…

I was screwed!

God help me, I was fucked…

And fuck me God, I enjoyed it…

END OF BOOK TWO

Story © 2004 Curt Fernlund and may not be reproduced without permission.