“You see it, don’t you?” Heather said.
“Not as bad as before,” I said. “Maybe it’s the weed in my system.”
“So he realizes that his whole department is crooked and has been since the Civil War,” Heather said.
I saw the fat sheriff and his deputies at an airfield, armed to the teeth. A small twin-engined plane landed. A tall blonde man with a MAC-10 climbed out of the plane, followed by several Hispanic men. The blonde man looked like some kind of government agent, or an agent of something anyway. The deputies pitched in and helped unload the cargo. One of the Hispanic men opened a tightly wrapped bundle with a switchblade.
“Just a taste.” He smiled stupidly.
The others backed away from him. The agent’s face didn’t even twitch when he opened up with the MAC-10. A dozen bullets sprayed blood over the runway as they exited the body.
“Gawd damn.” The Sheriff took his cowboy hat off. Sweat dripped from the brim.
“We’re down one man.” The Agent inserted a fresh magazine in the MAC-10’s grip. “We are on a tight schedule.”
“I, I don’t understand.” The Sheriff stammered and looked around.
The Agent motioned toward the plane using the smoking, silencer of his MAC-10. The Sheriff waddled over to the plane and a grinning deputy handed him a bundle.
“So the Sheriff found out Mike was talking to the FBI,” Heather said. “He should have just run.”
On the screen group of robed Klansmen and deputies stood around a cross in the middle of an empty field. The young deputy from before was tied to the cross. He’d been beaten, his head bobbed, barley conscious.
“Ya’ll gonna burn.” The Sheriff threw an empty tall-can at him.
“We gotta problem.” A hooded Klansman tapped the Sheriff’s sleeve.
The hooded figure whispered in the Sheriff’s ear.
“What the fuck do you mean, we got no gas?” The Sheriff pushed him back. “How we gonna burn that traitor without any gas?”
“We use us some shine.” The Klansman pulled his hood off.
“Tha hell we will,” a deputy said.
“So the crooked cops got in a fight with the Klan over wasting perfectly good alcohol,” Heather said. “I laughed when he told me that part. He got so mad I thought he was gonna hit me. Then he remembered what he was talking to”
I smiled at the brawl on the screen. The victorious Sheriff and his men took their crates of moonshine filled mason jars and left. The Klansmen took off their soiled robes, threw up their hands and left Mike to die.
“That is kinda funny,” I said. “How did Mike get down?”
“From the cross?” Heather said. “A black family coming back from church saved him. He was up there for like, twelve hours. Anyway, he wanted revenge.”
The scene faded to static, then came into focus on another scene from the Eighties. Mike, the southern cop, followed Heather down a deserted street. She looked back and smiled.
“He figured out what I was pretty quick,” Heather said. “And he like, wanted in. He told me if I didn’t make him like me, that he’d kidnap a weaker vampire and figure it out himself. He was cute, but he was a real jerk.”
She smirked. I must have made a face or something.
The TV shifted through scenes quicker. Mike, dressed in 1980’s SWAT gear, crept into Lee’s mansion. He got caught almost immediately. The scene changed and an embarrassed, angry Heather led him out past groups of disapproving vampires. I recognized some of them from my own visit to Lee’s crazy mansion.
“So, I figured, fuck it,” Heather said. “I’ll try it and see what happens. He’s a creep who stalked me, so no big loss if I kill him on accident.”
More static and the scene stabilized on Heather, in a black silk robe, lighting black candles. She put a record from the band Coven on her turntable. Heather sensed Mike before he knocked and opened her door.
“Do I have to be invited in?” He swayed on his feet, a bottle of whiskey in his hand.
“We gonna do this or what?” Heather rolled her eyes.
Mike leaned in for a kiss. Heather sidestepped him and he almost fell. Mike looked around her room. Heather tossed her robe across the room. Mike swallowed hard and reached for her naked body. She kept one step ahead of him and walked into a circle of black candles. He followed her and started taking his shirt off. I was really starting to hate the other Mike.
Heather vanished. Mike spun around. Heather’s face appeared over his shoulder. Claw tipped fingers caressed his chest. Heather’s mouth opened to fresh rows of teeth split through her gums. Just like with the Senator she lost control, but only for a second. Blood pumped between Mike’s fingers as he tried desperately to hold his throat together. Heather put her face in her bloody hands and screamed. “Fuck.”
She opened her wrist with her teeth and offered her blood to Mike. He fell to his knees and drank. The change was almost instantaneous.
“At first it was cool. The others accepted him, for a while. Then he started annoying everybody. Walking around like he was in charge. He tried to recruit vampires for his revenge mission against the Sheriff.” Heather was sitting on the edge of the futon next to me, looking at the TV. “You saw those lazy fuckers at Lee’s house. No way they’re gonna go all the way to Arkansas and try to kill evil humans that know how to fight back. I’d have gone with him though. It might have been fun.”
There was more static, then I watched the vampires assemble in Lee’s ball room. Mike stood alone. He wore his old SWAT gear and had an M16 slung over his shoulder. His right hand rested on a sawed off, shotgun that waited in a custom belt holster.
“You’ve gotten weak, old man,” he said. “It’s time for some real leadership here.”
Lee glared back at him. Karla and a number of what I guessed were elders, turned to Heather, who just shrugged her shoulders.
“What do you say?” Mike said. “Just step down and everything’s gonna be fine.”
Suddenly, Lee was holding a huge magnum revolver. He’d drawn too fast to for human eyes to see. A sustained blast, made up of all six shots being fired quicker than any human could, echoed through the ballroom. Mike’s head shook and exploded as all six rounds hit home. Shattered pieces of bone and unidentifiable red flesh showered the floor.
The vampires froze in place. Mike’s headless body stood straight for a moment, his right hand still on the shotgun. He’d never even had a chance to draw. Lee waved his hand and the body fell.
Everyone was looking at Heather now. She smirked and crossed her arms. Some of the elders moved to speak. Lee held up his hand and made a fist. The words died in their mouths.
“It was not bad enough that this fool attempted to mount a crusade into the territory of Liam O’Bannon. No, today he very nearly caused me to be annoyed.” Lee pointed at the body. “Heather, clean up your mistake. Burn this garbage.”
Reality returned and the screen went dark.
“Like, I had to do it. What was worse though, was that Karla snickered at me. She didn’t really think it was funny, nobody did, they were all busy being scared of Lee. She just did it to fuck with me.” Heather tapped my shoulder. “Are you back?”
“More or less,” I said and shook my head. “Was that why they kicked you out?”
“No way.” She laughed and slapped her knees. “I did way worse stuff than that. And, I left. Nobody kicked me out.”
Heather shifted position and put her feet up on my lap.
“Can Misty see you, like I do?” I said.
“No, she sees what she wants to see,” Heather said. “I bet I look really fuckin’ hot to her. I can never like, tell what humans see. Ron, sort of, seems to be able to see me. All the dope in his bloodstream is fucking up his instincts. When I drank his blood, the anti-anxiety meds stayed with me way longer than the weed did. Why does he take that shit when he’s got good pot?”
“He’s probably still on his parent’s insurance,” I said. “The pills are kind of fr
ee.”
“Lame,” Heather said.
I rubbed her room-temperature feet while we waited for Misty.
Chapter 12
Misty’s overly enthusiastic voice carried through the living room. She circled Heather on her tip toes like an elf. I sat back on the couch with some peanut butter crackers, happy to be ignored by the girls.
“They were all there, at Lavania’s McMansion,” Misty said. “Well, except for Prescott and Aaron. Aaron was the other one you guys killed. I didn’t really know him.”
“How did you get in?” Heather said.
“They know me,” Misty said. “I told them I had a theory about what happened. This guy I know there, Shen, he was freaking out over what he saw you-”
“He didn’t see shit.” Heather cut her off. “The ones who lived, ran before things got good.”
“They didn’t even hear me out,” Misty said. “Lavinia’s convinced you’re a demon come back to kill her.”
“Yeah, it’s all about her,” Heather said. “Fucking cunt.”
“A lot of them don’t even believe in vampires,” Misty said. “They’re in way over their heads. I think most of them just treated the Society as a rich boy’s club.”
“With a middle aged woman in charge,” I said.
“Ugh, you know what I mean. They’re all fuck-off rich.” She turned to Heather, probably hoping I’d go away. “So, all they really did was argue.”
“How many were there?” Heather said.
“Um, ah, maybe two hundred,” Misty said. “Are they really that bad?”
“You didn’t see the fucked up shit we saw in those tunnels,” I said. “They all have to go.”
“Maybe they-” Misty said.
Heather’s hand dropped gently on Misty’s head. Growing claws split her fingernails.
“No discussion,” Heather said. “They have it coming. Now stay focused. Did you see the book?”
“Oh yeah, the book. Lavinia had a really old leather bound book. You could tell it was an antique just by looking at it.” Misty looked up lovingly at Heather. She couldn’t see the claws, yet.
“How many guns do they have?” Heather said.
“Not many that I could see,” Misty said. “There were these two guys. I could tell what they were, big guys with bulges in their jackets. I’m pretty sure they had guns, but I didn’t actually see any. I saw some cops there too. Two regular patrol guys and a couple of detectives hanging around. They looked bored.”
“So, they only have a few people who can fight,” Heather said, “and they don’t even know what they’re dealing with.”
“Pretty much,” Misty said and Heather released her.
I put a coffee cup full of water in the microwave and rummaged through the cabinets, ‘till I found a box of Earl Grey tea. I didn’t have any coffee and I wanted to stay sharp for whatever Heather was cooking up.
“So, Lavinia, ugh.” Heather rolled her eyes at the obviously contrived name. “She doesn't even know where we are, does she?”
“No,” Misty said.
“So much for her finding us first,” I said.
“The cops said, they’ll find whoever did it,” Misty said. “But, I heard them talking. They think it’s all bullshit, like Prescott had it coming for being a sinner or something. The detectives are really conservative and reactionary. I think they’re only in it for the money.”
Heather sat down on the couch and crossed her legs in a regal sort of way. It made me think of some forgotten, ancient kingdom, ruled by a sorceress back when the pyramids were new. Those kind of places were forgotten for a reason. Heather smiled at me. Her servant, Misty, joined her on the couch.
“So, I think you guys are safe,” she said. “There’s no reason to go after them. They don’t have a clue. They’ll never find you. I can steal the book back, later.”
“It doesn’t work that way, Missy,” Heather said. “One way or another, they all have to die. I might have given some of them a break, even the ones who thought it was so funny to trap me in that fucking circle, but not anymore. There was too much evil, weird shit in those tunnels, even for me. They were killing kids down there. You have to make a choice. Do this right and I’ll make you like me. Fuck it up and you die with the rest of them.”
Heather seized Misty’s head and dropped her disguise. Misty inhaled sharply but didn’t try to get away. Claws sent blood trickling down her face. The lights dimmed overhead and Heather’s eyes lit up. Her lips split and pulled back over jagged teeth.
“Do you still want to be like me?” Heather’s voice was a low, rumbling growl.
Misty nodded, mesmerized. Tears rolled down her cheeks and mixed with the blood. Heather let her fall back on the couch.
“Wow, shit.” Misty mumbled and tried to sit up. The air around Heather rippled. They ignored the microwave beeping and stared at each other.
“Shit, my tea.” I snapped out of it.
“So.” Heather licked the blood from her claws one by one as they retracted into her fingertips. “What your going to do, is go back and tell them where we are. Make up, like, whatever else bullshit you want. But, tell them the best time to kill a vampire is after they feed. So they should make their move after 1 AM, tonight.”
“I’ll do it,” Misty said. “Where should I say you’re going to be?”
“There’s a construction site, out at the end of Elm,” Heather said. “Tell them you found my lair with your, uh, vampire knowledge. Then, you barley escaped us.”
“OK,” Misty nodded.
“Here, I’ll make it look believable.” Heather leaned forward, a needle sharp claw ready to go. Misty tilted her head back, exposing her throat, knowing exactly what Heather wanted.
“Dammit, that hurts.” Misty said, as Heather poked two neat, round holes in her neck.
“Hey Mike, go get a towel or something,” Heather said.
She ripped Misty’s t-shirt open as I passed into my room. When I got back, Heather was licking up the blood that ran down Misty’s chest. Misty groaned and dug her fingers into Heather’s hair.
“Here.” I handed them the towel and some bandages.
“There’s no turning back now.” Heather waved her hand over Misty’s neck and the slow trickle of blood stopped instantly.
“Tonight, right?” Misty said. “You make me a vampire?”
“When it’s over, you’ll get what you want.” Heather smoothed Misty’s hair back and kissed her forehead. Her lips left a bloody print on Misty’s skin.
Misty got up and headed for the door, clutching a square bandage to her throat, not even bothering to fix her shirt. She handed me the bloody towel as she passed.
“Fuck.” I threw it in the recycle bin and watched Misty hurry out the door to her fate.
“You think she’ll do it?” I said.
“Sure, I can read her like a book.” Heather said.
“So, what happens when they kill Misty because they think she’s infected or something?” I said.
“That’s a chance we’ll have to take,” Heather said. “I had to face death a whole bunch of times before I was a vampire. If she survives the night, then like, maybe it means she’s worthy.”
I left the cup of warm water to cool on the counter. I wasn’t going to need caffeine after all. I felt great. Heather and I moved in sync, each of us knowing exactly what to do. I collected all the guns, knives, and ammunition I could find in the apartment.
“You think this going to be enough?” I said.
“Probably, it should be enough to get most of them.” Heather played with the SOG knife. “When we run out of ammunition, then things will get really interesting, and fun.”
*****
It took us two trips to get everything out to the car.
“It occurs to me, that I should feel at least a little anxiety, or something.” I shut the vampire scarred trunk lid.
“Ugh.” Heather cut her eyes at me. “What do you feel, right now?”
“Good
, I guess.” I shrugged my shoulders.
“Then go with it,” she said, “enjoy it.”
“Fuck it,” I said.
“You really should get something newer.” Heather said, looking over the accumulated damage she’d inflicted on my car. “Something that can take a punch.”
“Yeah, a four door family car wasn’t really meant for driving a vampire around,” I said.
“Where are you guys going?” Ron sat waiting on the pavement in front of my car. “Does what you’re doing have something to do with Misty?”
“Yes.” Heather put on a serious tone. “We think she’s with them.”
“Who’s them?” Ron’s voice cracked. “Was it those guys you had her spying on?”
Ron stood up and approached Heather. His white trash instincts kicked in, stopping him just out of range of Heather’s claws.
“They are called The Society of Ancient Wisdom,” Heather said. “They’re an evil cult. I can read Misty’s thoughts. I know where they’re taking her. And, I know what they’re gonna do to her if we don’t stop them.”
“Well, come on.” Ron opened the shotgun door. “Let’s go.”
“Back seat,” I said.
Ron pushed some of the guns out of the way and took a seat behind Heather. “Where are we going?”
“You’ll see in a minute,” Heather said.
I climbed in the shotgun seat. Heather dialed the radio and found a Motorhead song.
“I want a gun,” Ron said.
*****
As we drove back to the construction site, I realized that it had only been a few days since we’d burned the revenants there. Years seemed to have gone by. Everything had changed. I felt my wasted, normal life fade into the past.
We ditched the car a half mile from our destination and hiked in with our gear. Heather, bored by the slow wheezing progress of the humans, started running circles around us. In the distance an uneven, chain-link fence surrounded the construction site.
“I wonder what they found in the dumpster?” I pointed at the obvious security cameras.
Low-Skilled Job (Vol. 1): Low-Skilled Job Page 18
