Deon was soon met by Mr. Jones. He greeted him very formally. And the fact that Jones knew who he was confirmed he knew things that many mortals didn't. Generally the only people that knew him were apart the vampire community, people he has turned, people he has threatened to kill, and people he has killed. Though the dead ones don't talk. Though he soon mentioned about him bringing the feds on him. he responded with a laugh. "
My, you can't believe I am the one who brought them here? I've been out of commission for about ten years now." He patted the well dressed mortal on the shoulder. "
If the fed is here, they are here for you or someone with connections to you. And until just now, I was not on that list." He let go as the secrete tunnel was revealed. Mr. Jones wanted him out fast, and with reason. Deon was well known for causing troubles that many didn't want to be apart of. That and killing some government agents in someone's business is a poor first impression.
Jones's assistant went down into a trap door that smelled rot, decay, and poor foundation work. Deon followed the assistant for a bit, but before submerging himself into the tunnel he stopped and faced Mr. Jones. "
I may be what caused the Feds to decide to enter the place. But I wasn't the one that brought them here. So be ready for anything. I still need to chat before mortality catches up with you." Deon Erickson continued down the tunnel, though instead of following the assistant once they were further down he split off. He never liked being close to people. Mortals especially.
Once outside Erickson could still smell the foul stench of the city. The only reasons Deon tolerates the city are easy pickings, easy connections, and easy moral crushers. But when he came upon the surface Deon spotted something that he wasn't expecting. Soldier. It was easy to tell it was them. A watch van was parked outside the club, it could have been FBI, but with the amount of bodies inside of it there had to be a raiding party inside of it. Groups like the local police or FBI generally use marked vans.
Deon had a few thoughts for how the next few moments could play out. His favorite was him walking up to the van like an old western cowboy, dropping his trench coat revealing his sawed off M14s, and lighting up the van forcing who ever survived the initial blasts to come out into the open. The survivors he would pick off using his blade primarily, if need be his magnum for well he was too occupied, and for the hell of it leaving one alive to send a message. But he didn't do any of that. Instead, he left the sights of the van before he could be spotted and waiting for when the time was right. Because tonight was not the end of humanity. As far as the mortals were concerned, they still had plenty of time before they were set as cattle.
Kathryn, still weak but functional worked her way to the edge of the country in hopes to leave the island. With all the activity she didn't want to draw unwanted attention and be stuck in England. Mainland Europe could work if she could get there fast enough. It was almost dawn when she reached the docks, the captain of a large fishing vessel had agreed to take her to the mainland in exchange for funds Kathryn obtained from some of the corpses from the nightclub fight.
Though arriving at the docks she found her ship. What she didn't expect to find was an old man wearing an old and worn combat jacket. He was wearing a gas mask while standing on the ship's dock. In his hand was a .357 revolver, similar to the one she had learned to shoot when she was a kid. In the man's other hand was a blade that screamed death as he let it swing back and forward with the calm breeze. She was scared of this man, not because of his current appearance, but because she knew him. She could never forget the man. "
Daddy?" She asked, hoping she was wrong. The man didn't respond. But she could hear his heart beat change pace as she spoke. She could hear his breathing intensify as he tightened the grip of his weapons.
Kathryn attempted to speak again. "
Daddy don't-" She was cut off by the man's screams. "
Don't you dare call me your father after what you did! Don't you fucking dare!" Kathryn was quiet, unsure what to do or say about him now. "
You lost that right thirteen years ago. Thirteen years to the date as of three weeks ago." his voice was partially muffled by the gas mask, though he spoke boldly enough that that she would be able to hear him fine even if she was a human. "
Daddy, plea-" She was cut off by his screams, and him raising the revolver to her. "
What did I just say?! You don't get to call me that anymore! You killed them and now..." He pulled back the hammer, the sights of the revolver locked onto Kathryn. "
I am going to kill you." He pulled the trigger, sending the anti-material bullet towards her head.
If Kathryn had been at full strength she could have dodged the bullet the second he pulled the trigger. Hanks reflexes were slower then the last time the two had met face to face. But she wasn't. When the bullet fired she ducked the bullet missing her by a sliver. She scrambled to her feet as Hank fired another bullet, giving chase to his former daughter.
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