They're So Vein (The Grateful Undead series)

by Susan Stec

Susan! JoAnn shouted at me.

  I squinted, a growl rumbling in my chest. I raised my hand toward Christopher, stopping him. He gave me a thumb up and stood waiting, his other hand cupping his headphone.

  "Yessss," I growled into the walkie-talkie.

  Did you spray the Sure Kill scent remover all over you? I hope so, because they'll smell you a mile away if you have that patchouli stuff on.

  "JoAnn, you idiot, I've hunted for years. I think I know how to remain down wind and mask my scent."

  Just saying, I can smell you a block away with that stuff on, wind or no wind, and in the book, it says…

  I turned off the walkie-talkie.

  Christopher's nostrils flared, he shook his head up and down then grabbed his nose.

  I growled, slicing my throat with my hand, my teeth bared.

  Marcus' voice assaulted me. Susan, turn the hand-held back on. You need them to guide you... unless you want me to guide you, because if you do, I can think of a few things I'd have you do. Just for me.

  I took in a long, deep, cleansing breath and turned the frigging thing back on.

  ~~~~

  "I'll phase, you go talk to the troll." Paul told Gibbie. "I can cover more terrain on all fours."

  "Why do I always have to talk to the rock?" Gibbie flew off in a huff toward the boat dock. He rounded the corner of the house, spotting a large black lump protruding from the water by the cypress trees lining the shore.

  "Bout time… one of you came out… to clue me in. Check… the dock," the troll said, rising from the water and ambling onto the shore in front of Gibbie.

  "What's on the dock? I don't eat fish."

  "Not…fish…go look," Mort said with a smile, his teeth full of green slime.

  "God, I need to introduce you to a toothbrush. You're disgusting. Close your mouth when you eat, for crying out loud." Gibbie buzzed toward the dock.

  Mort slid back in the lake, water roiling around him. He emerged at the edge of the wooden platform where the boat was tied.

  "Holy shit! These all vamps?"

  "Yep… I take… my job… ser-i-ous-ly. Got all of them… today. So, what's the…the… plan… tonight?" Mort peeked out of the water at Gibbie, blowing bubbles.

  Gibbie stared at the pile of aquatic mammal and reptile pieces neatly stacked on the edge of the dock.

  ~~~~

  The wolf rounded a group of trees. Nostrils flared, ears back, he stood perfectly still, waiting. His whole body vibrated as a squirrel scampered out from under a bush, red eyes darting. The wolf leapt, grabbed it by the head and shook vigorously. Bones cracked. The animal went limp. He placed the squirrel on the ground, front paw on its back, dug his teeth around the animal's neck, reared back and tore its head off.

  ~~~~

  "Can you please stop farting?" Chick had her hands on her hips, glaring at Jake. "We'll never get close enough to kill anything, for Christ sake."

  Jake's eyes got big and round, his cheeks flushed bright pink, and he cowered. "I'm holding my butt cheeks as tight as I can. I'm sorry! You scare the wind right out of me!"

  Nanna, there's six sets of eyes directly in front of you by that scattering of bushes off to the west of the field, Jeni's voice floated from the earpiece.

  Chick raised her hand, wiggled her fingers at the bushes, and all the foliage, two squirrels, a raccoon, a fox, an armadillo and a pit bull flew twenty feet into the air.

  Jake yelped. A huge flame erupted from his mouth and set the whole west side of the field on fire.

  Chick stood slack-jawed as the animals hit the ground, engulfed in flames. She pushed the button on her walkie-talkie. "We got ours."

  ~~~~

  "Zaire, look. By the mailbox," Resi whispered.

  Zaire's head jerked in the direction of the front gate.

  That's right. There are five of them out there by the fence. Circle around the path beside the barn and hit them from the other side. Jeni whispered.

  "10-4," Zaire said, signaling Resi toward the path while she went the other way.

  Resi stood at the gate watching the pack of animals baring long fangs at Zaire. She clicked her tongue against her cheek. They all turned to look at her. She scrunched up her face and all of them froze, fangs retracting.

  Zaire sighed.

  Resi wiggled her eyebrows and all of them closed their eyes and laid down.

  "Well, that was sort of anticlimactic." Zaire picked up the first one and slit its throat.

  "I drop 'um, you chop 'um," Resi chuckled. "Looks like we got us a nice routine going here."

  Zaire wiped blood from her face. "Damn it! I wanted a real fight!"

  ~~~~

  Susan! Hurry! JoAnn screeched in my ear. Off to your left about thirty-feet, by the woodpile! Get 'em before they run!

  I grabbed my ear, shaking my head. "Damn it, JoAnn! Can you give me some kind of warning before you scream in my frigging ear? You're giving me a frigging headache!"

  Christopher was already at the woodpile pulling his knife.

  I ran up and we both eyeballed a big, angry porcupine with huge fangs.

  "Put up your shield so it can't run off," Christopher whispered.

  "Hell no! I'm not trapping myself inside a force-field with a fanged porcupine!" I inched closer.

  "Wimp! I'm not afraid of a little porcupine." Christopher flung his knife. It flew by, inches from my cheek, sinking into the porcupine's chest up to the handle.

  A shitload of quills exploded from the porcupine and hit me in the chest, arms, and legs. I turned to run, getting at least fifty more in my back and ass.

  "Ow, ow, ow! Ooouch! Damn it all to hell, that hurt!" I yelled. "They're not supposed to be able to shoot those things, are they? I'll sure as hell remember that!"

  I heard a loud whistle in my ear, my hand shot up, grabbed my head and I stabbed my temple with at least a dozen quills embedded in my hand.

  Susan, who's shooting at you? JoAnn screamed in my ear. What's going on?

  "JoAnn, you made me stab myself; damn it!"

  You said to warn you! I thought a whistle would work.

  "Just click the call button or something! Christ."

  Sorry. I could hear the amusement in her voice and I thought I could hear Jeni laughing in the background. I also heard Marcus. Susan, my love, your family amuses me so. I miss you, darling.

  Before I could whip out a snarky remark, five squirrels and the raccoon with the split ear leapt from the woodpile, heading straight for us.

  I ran toward the animals, kicking up dirt. "That's the raccoon with the split ear. We have to take it alive!"

  I grabbed one of my knives. Three squirrels leapt at me, impaling themselves on the quills hanging from my chest. I looked down at them as Marcus’ laughter ricocheted around in my head. "I got mine," I sighed.

  Christopher ran for the others and was quickly rolling on the ground with the raccoon.

  The other two squirrels turned abruptly and ran at me. I whipped up my force field. They slammed into it, clinging to the other side. Damn spiffy! Thank God for all that practice in the gym. Woohoo!

  I plucked the squirrels dangling from my chest, one by one, slicing their heads off, and stuffed them into my jumpsuit pocket, keeping an eye on their furry brethren still attached to the force-field.

  Christopher got up, holding an angry raccoon firmly in his small hands. It was hissing and clawing his arms. "I could use some help here."

  "Sure, I mean I only killed three and seem to have the other two trapped. I live to assist you, oh useless partner of mine."

  "Look, I had to capture mine alive. Deal with it."

  I walked up to the wall that held the two animals captive, pulled another knife out of a sheath on my thigh and slammed both through the shield, into the squirrel's bellies. The shield disintegrated - both squirrels hung from a knife.

  "Can you move it along, or I'm gonna have chop-meat for hands!"

  "Damn, I'm good!" I leaned over, stepping on one, pulled the knife o
ut and severed its little head off its shoulders, then repeated the process with the other, sliding them into my jumpsuit. With bloody hands, I pulled a canvas bag off the belt clipped to my waist, popped in all the bodies and heads, walked over to Christopher and opened it under the raccoon.

  "It's about friggin' time." Christopher dropped the raccoon inside and I tied off the top and hung it back on my belt.

  Christopher pointed at my boobs decorated with porcupine quills. "You wanna pull those out first or head to the barn?"

  I smiled at his scratched-up hands. "The barn."

  I ran after him, yanking quills out of my chest.

  ~~~~

  "So how many did we get?" Resi asked, putting two large black trash bags of vamp critters on the back porch.

  "Sixty-two and that's not counting the pile on the dock," Gibbie squawked.

  "There's… twenty-seven… bodies…on the… dock." Mort's slow drawl wafted up to the porch from the lake.

  "Eighty-nine! Christ, and all because JoAnn bit a damn raccoon," Resi said.

  "She's evil and she must be destroyed," I whispered wickedly.

  "Damn, and we've got two weeks left," Zaire said. "I bet we're only half-way there."

  ~~~~

  Two weeks later, we stood in front of the sliding-glass doors staring out onto the porch. It was packed with black trash bags, reeking of death.

  "Any idea how we get these heads back to Miami?" Mom asked, fanning her face. "They sure as hell aren't gonna fit in the van."

  "We need a friggin' eighteen wheeler, that’s what we need," Zaire said, turning to take a breath.

  "I got it all taken care of. They'll be there when we arrive," I said, exchanging a grin with Christopher.

  "That doesn't sound good, Susabella," Mom said. "What are you up to?"

  Marcus rumbled in my head.

  Can't do a damn thing, can you Fang-Boy? I pushed.

  "We put the raccoon in a cage in the back of the van. He is not a happy camper," Paul said, walking into the living room.

  "Let's go say goodbye to Mort," I suggested with dancing eyebrows.

  "Fuck Mort," Zaire said.

  "Yeah, fuck Mort," Gibbie agreed.

  "Children, be nice," Mom said.

  ~~~~

  Four hours later we pulled up in front of BAMVC, the raccoon screeching in the back of the Suburban. I made a suggestion. "I think we should park around the side of the building, walk along the path, stand in front of the building and wait for Dorius to come out." I pulled out a pile of sunglasses from my purse.

  "Oh cool, we’re going to do a Blue's Brothers thing," Christopher smiled at me. "Got a pair for the fairy?"

  "As a matter of fact-" I pulled out the small pair of sunglasses I'd ripped off a Barbie doll in Wal-Mart.

  Mom got out of the car as I handed out sunglasses. "Okay, I'll play along since we accomplished our mission and things are looking good. It might even get a smile out of Dorius."

  I handed out the sunglasses.

  Marcus and Dorius strutted out the front doors, flanked by JoAnn and Jeni. We all stood at attention, hands saluting, glasses on, dressed in our Critter-Control jumpsuits.

  "Dorius, come on out and congratulate your team!" Christopher yelled.

  Dorius smiled, walked down the steps, and looked up. A helicopter circled behind the compound. He swaggered toward us, a big nasty grin plastered across his face.

  Remember the episode of WKRP in Cincinnati when Carlson thought dumping live turkeys from a helicopter into the parking lot of a shopping center on Thanksgiving was a good publicity stunt? As the heads hit the ground around Dorius, slamming him into a kneeling position, I imagined shoppers running for their lives as turkeys plummeted to their death.

  Les Nessman yelling 'Oh, the humanity!', over and over in my head, created a burble of laughter.

  Resi giggled all the way to the back of the van, shaking her head as she pulled the raccoon cage out. We all walked toward Dorius, who was lying in a bloody mess of smelly, dead vamp-animals.

  Marcus stood on the steps grinning at me. JoAnn was giving me nasty eyebrows, but Jeni hid a smile behind her hand.

  Dorius' chest rumbled, eyes shooting daggers at all of us as his cell phone started singing, 'Wild Thing, you make my hear sing…' He dug into his messy jeans, pulled out the cell phone and hit the speaker button. "Yesss.."

  "Hello, this is Darth at the Leesburg Animal control office. This Dorius?"

  "Yesss," he answered with eyebrows warring on his forehead. A big blob of animal matter clung to the side of his chin.

  "I need you to dispatch a van over to Gatorland in Kissimmee. We have another animal problem. This one's gonna hit the news if we don't get right on it, Dorius."

  Dorius grinned at us and wiped the slime from his face. "No problem, Darth. My team is on its way."

  "We just got here!" I whined.

  Marcus didn't look happy. JoAnn did.

  "Well, at least we don't have to suit up." Mom poked me in the ribs and headed for the van. "Move it! We got us a gator to catch."

  ~~~~

  ~~~~

  Gator Baitin'

  Book 2 of the Grateful Undead series

  ~~~~

  I stopped at a red light and adjusted the rear-view mirror to get a better look at Christopher about the time he took off his Florida Gators cap and waved it at a Latino woman bouncing across Ocean Drive in front of us.

  "Put your hat on," I snapped, glaring at his reflection. "Don't make me come back there."

  Christopher locked his baby-blue eyes with my livid green pools. "Come on! Gimme a break, will ya?" He turned back to the window and lowered his sunglasses to get a better look. "Hey, hootchie mama, bring them double-D's over here." Fanning the damn hat again, he released the strap on his Bob the Builder car-seat and leaned halfway out the window, blond curls fluttering in a soft breeze. "I'm a breast baby and you look like you got plenty to share." Butt in the air, his little legs stuck out from camo knee-length cargo shorts and bounced black Marvel-Heroes tennis shoes.

  I reached between the seats of my Jeep Wrangler, grabbed the hem of his Spiderman shirt and dragged his butt back in the window. The Latin woman waved from the curb, leaned over, and shook her shoulders, boobs rattling in their cage.

  "Christ, look at them damn things," Christopher groused. "I'm getting a hard on—they're bigger than the ass hanging onto her thong. Pull over will ya?"

  The woman headed for the Jeep. I floored it and ran the red light.

  "You keep this crap up and Child Services will be knocking at our door. Sit back, buckle yourself in before we get a ticket, and keep your mouth shut." I turned the next corner at breakneck speed; the Jeep's tires squealed and Miami vacationers in festive beachy attire turned to check us out.

  "Damnit, I'm a hundred and five years old," Christopher roared, dropping his fangs. "It's time I got laid!"

  I hissed at his image in the mirror, showing a bit of fang myself. "Problem is, ya don't look a day over six."

  "Aw, come on," Christopher snarled. "I could've yanked her ass in here and got lost in the folds and she wouldn't have remembered a thing."

  "Yeah, an' the operative word being, 'lost.'" I grinned, tossing my red curls as I took another corner.

  "I hate this body. You try walking around, one big frickin' joke."

  "We're looking for the Gay Caballeros' bar," I reminded him. "We need to find my mother, remember? I'm going to have Dorius up my butt if we're late for the meeting, and I'm not in a good mood, so knock it off!"

  "It's on the corner over there." Christopher pointed his hat at a purple building with a bull in rainbow-colored neon lights bucking above the door.

  "Maybe I can find a petite woman looking for a small man in there," Christopher mumbled as I made a U-turn and pulled in back of the building.

  "It's a gay bar, idiot. You'll be waiting in the car." I parked, yanked the door open and got out of my Jeep Wrangler. "You know we aren't supposed to be drawing
attention to ourselves, so don't make a scene. If anyone asks, tell them your mother went inside to get your grandmother."

  "Screw that. I see an opportunity to get a little and I'm taking it."

  "Don't make me slap you." I walked away glaring at him.

  The place was packed with men kissing on men and women rubbing against one another in front of a long bar on one side of the room. It was loud, smoky, and smelled like stale beer, sweat, and... fresh blood.

  My mother was nowhere in sight. I silently prayed she wasn't sucking on someone's neck in a back room.

  I made my way to the rear of the bar and through a set of double doors where all the yelling was coming from.

  My mother was riding a mechanical bull, arm flailing, bare thighs tucked around a leather saddle, blonde curls whipping her face. Her attention was on the man running the apparatus.

  "Crank this baby up a notch, will ya, Harold? Give her all ya got!" Mom yelled, "I wanna ride 'til I walk like a bow-legged cowgirl on hot pavement."

  My mother looked like she was in her twenties with bright sable eyes, perky breasts, and a street trash mentality. Mentally, she was an eighty-three-year-old grandmother trying to seize, with gusto, the moments she'd missed in her sexually deficient life. I walked up to Harold. "Can you turn that off, please? It's time for my…um…sister to leave now."

  Harold reluctantly turned his bleached-blond head in my direction. "Come on, lady, she's attracting a huge crowd—it's good for business."

  "Harold! Let her rip!" Mom yelled. "I need a little more action between my legs!" She pulled her tube-top over her head and twirled it in circles. "Woohoo, burn baby, burn!" Breasts bouncing, legs swinging, she threw the tub-top across the room. It hit a thick, buff woman in the face.

  The woman, two fingers in her mouth, whistled and waved the bright pink tube-top in the air.

  "That's what I'm talkin' about!" shouted a woman dressed in a leather skirt and cowboy boots. She waggled her tongue, showing off a large metal ball piercing.