“Dude, we’re locked up in a vampire nest, about to be killed at sundown. I think we can go a little crazy.”
I pull Ben to his feet, spin him around the metal post, and break the cuffs off his wrists. “No, you’re not. We are leaving right now. Before the sun goes down.”
Cody kicks his legs away from the sliced duct tape and wriggles upright, turning to show me his handcuffs. “You were right. Sorry. We should’ve stayed home.”
“Oh… I’m supposed to tell you guys, your mom wants you to come home. It’s dinner time.”
They look at each other—and say, “Crap” at the same time.
30
When in Doubt, Go Big
Cody hugs me after I snap the handcuffs off him.
It’s a small break in his ‘tough guy’ vampire hunter persona. Perhaps proof he really is fifteen—or maybe sixteen by now.
“Guys,” I whisper. “What I’m about to say is extremely important. The vampires in this place are at least 200 years old. If they wake up before we leave, we’re going to die. Do not make any loud noises or go anywhere near the hallway on the left. We’re going to leave this room, walk past the crematorium oven, and go out the nearest window.”
Ben starts to nod, but stops when Cody says, “We have to destroy them.”
“No, we don’t,” I whisper, trying to sound like Mom commanding Sierra to go to bed. “We are leaving.”
“Yeah.” Ben points at his brother. “We gotta destroy them.”
I slap myself in the forehead. “Are you guys for real? Do you realize what almost happened to you?”
“Yeah. Exactly why we have to destroy them.” Cody narrows his eyes. “As soon as they wake up, they’re gonna come straight to our house and kill us anyway.”
“Ugh. You don’t know that.” I point at the old man. “How much chance do you think he had of killing me?”
“Uhh, less than zero.” Ben smiles at me while ripping a piece of duct tape off his jeans and tossing it aside.
“Okay.” I set my hands on my hips. “The old man had more chance of killing me than I have of killing one of those elders. There are five of them. The idea you’re going to destroy elder vampires is even dumber than the flat Earth BS.”
“No way,” mutters Ben.
I sigh. “Okay, fair point. Nothing’s dumber than the flat Earth BS, but one baby vampire and a pair of teenagers attacking five elders is damn close.”
“We have to at least try.” Cody flails his arms.
“Try? Do you have any specifics in mind beyond ‘try’?” I glare at him. “Look, even if you somehow manage to defy the one in two billion odds of actually destroying a vampire as old as them, the instant you start messing with one, the rest are going to wake up—and they will rip us into shredded meat. There won’t be enough left between all three of us to fill one taco.”
“You had to go there, didn’t you?” Ben scratches his stomach. “Dammit. Now I’m really hungry.”
Cody turns green. “Dude! She’s talking about people meat. Not beef.”
“Oh.” Ben shrugs. “Never mind.”
“Sorry. I’m still kinda hungry. Had a bad night, err, morning. Anyway… these vampires are super old. The only thing we can do is get the hell out of here before sunset and hope they don’t come looking for you… or me.”
The boys reluctantly nod.
I hate the idea of them possibly being right. If the old man knew about the camera, it’s possible the vampires are aware someone has been spying on them. They might come after the Peters family. Not too hopeful a pack of kill-feeders would be merciful enough to simply erase their memories, even if it would be less hassle than having to relocate years before they likely planned to. We’re not exactly dealing with rational creatures. Perhaps they’re not nuts, but they definitely consider themselves above mortals.
“Hey,” whispers Cody once we’re out in the main basement.
I twist to look back at him.
He’s staring at the crematorium oven the way most boys his age would ogle a Ferrari, Lamborghini, or Bree Swanson in a swimsuit.
“No,” I whisper. “Won’t work. We might be able to roast one of them, but the others will kill us. The crematorium isn’t big enough for five coffins at the same time. Besides, they’re in nice steel ones. Cremation uses cheap wooden coffins or even big cardboard boxes. Gotta give you points for creativity. The oven wouldn’t really care how old a vampire is. But… we’ll never pull one of them out of their steel coffin and stuff them into the oven fast enough to do anything other than get ourselves killed.”
Ben looks down, deflated.
Cody keeps on smiling.
“I don’t like that look on your face.”
He pulls out the flare gun. “This doesn’t care how old they are, either.”
“Dork. We went over this. You have one shot.”
“I have ten more shells in my jacket.” He pats his pocket.
Sigh. I hold my hands up as if framing a movie screen. “Picture this: you open the lid of one coffin, fire point-blank into a vampire’s chest. He goes up in flames. Four other coffins pop open and you explode in a flash of claws before you can even open the breach to pull the spent shell out of the gun.”
Cody grimaces.
Ben snaps his fingers. “Idea.”
“Is your idea something other than leaving right away? No? Don’t wanna hear it.” I plod over to the window. “Come on.”
“Put the flare away for now, but we’re gonna need it in a minute or four.” Ben runs across the room to a workbench and starts rummaging around.
Cody appears to be as confused as I am, but stuffs the flare pistol back in his pocket.
“What are you doing?” I rasp.
“Looking for a big pair of wire cutters,” says Ben.
“Why?”
He points at the oven. “It’s got a huge propane line. We cut it. Let the gas out… wait like ten minutes. Fire a flare in the window from outside. Kaboom.” He mimes an explosion. “That’s how you kill five vampires in one shot using a flare gun.”
“Genius,” whispers Cody, eyes wide.
“Ugh.” I face-palm again. “You guys aren’t serious.”
“Deadly serious,” says Ben, his expression grim. “The gas is heavier than air. It’ll stay in the basement unless it fills completely, but still, the explosion will mostly go upward because this is a basement and the walls are braced by earth. This house has plenty of open space around it. Not gonna burn anyone else’s house down.”
“Awesome. Let’s do it,” says Cody.
“I dunno…”
Ben pulls on my arm. “You gotta know they’re onto us. You said you weren’t a bad vampire. Do you want them to keep killing people?”
“Of course I don’t. But we can’t—”
“We can.” He points at the oven. “If I can find something big enough to cut the pipe.”
This is so effing crazy, but the last thing I want is to stand here arguing with them while the vampires hear us and wake up. I’ve got two choices: go along with it or mind-control the brothers. Option one is crazy, but option two has zero chance of stopping murder. Also, I’m not going to get in trouble with Cassandra for doing it. This is, after all, the vampire Wild West. In fact, she, Jermaine, and their entire group would probably find it hilarious. Got the feeling they didn’t much care for any vampires who chose to live in Ventura. Total ‘wrong side of the tracks’ vibe.
And a gas explosion is something any reasonable person could pass off as an accident. Or arson, but arson doesn’t make anyone think of vampires.
“Okay, fine.” I walk over to the oven. “Which one’s the gas line?”
“Need a tool,” whispers Ben.
“You are a tool.” Cody grins.
Ben gives him the finger.
I hold up my hand and sprout claws. “Got it covered. Which one?”
“You can scratch metal?” Cody tilts his head at me.
“I can cut metal if it
’s thin enough.”
“Whoa.” He blinks.
“Uhh, your fingernails aren’t harder than copper. How the heck can you cut metal?” asks Ben.
I shrug. “Probably for the same reason I have claws in the first place, live forever, and can mind-control people. Science has left the building… or at least hasn’t found the light switch yet.”
The boys grin.
Ben walks over, giving me this mildly awestruck look. He continues studying my clawed fingers, pointing without looking at a half-inch-diameter copper pipe running down from the ceiling into the side of the oven near the back end.
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah.”
“How do you know so much about crematory ovens?” I raise an eyebrow.
He points at the pipe. “Says propane on it.”
I shift my gaze to the copper tube. Sure enough, ‘danger – propane – danger – propane’ is stenciled along the entire length.
“Okay… you two get out the window.”
The boys dart around from window to window, peering outside to find the one offering the most distance from which they can shoot a flare while taking cover in a place of concealment. Finally, they pick one and climb out.
I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?
Sigh.
Guilt makes me hesitate, at least until I remember the one bitch saying she hopes the little girl character in GoT dies. Grr. I stop breathing, then press my thumb claw into the pipe, slicing the thin copper about as easily as pushing a knife into thick plastic. After making a huge gash down the pipe, I retreat from the loud hissing. A few feet from the open window, the damn sunlight shuts me offline, forcing me to climb—rather than fly—to the outside. It’s an ungainly position with little leverage, but the boys grab my arms and pull me up into an inferno of daylight, greatly speeding the process of me getting out. Muscles are a bit stiff in the California sun. Figure we’ve probably got about an hour and twenty minutes of daylight left.
Honestly, my plan worked far better than expected. Didn’t take long at all to find the boys and get them out. Project Big Boom is an unexpected layer of madness, but too late to chicken out now.
We run across the parking lot, across the dirt field separating it from the road, and take cover in the heavy bushes where the boys had placed the camera before. The three of us hunker down out of sight and watch the building. Hopefully, leaving the window open won’t let all the gas out. Shouldn’t be a problem if he’s right about propane being heavier than air. It couldn’t possibly escape outside until the entire basement filled to near the ceiling. Plenty to incinerate the kill-feeding elders.
Cody and Ben breathe rapidly, throwing off a ton of nervous energy like they’ve just egged a house and think they got away without being identified. Pretty sure blowing up a building is illegal, vampires or not. This is kinda going way beyond eggs. It’s the most illegal, dangerous, destructive thing I’ve ever been part of. The only reason I’m not throwing up is not having any solid food in my stomach. Follows Rules Girl is losing her damn mind. Relax. I can’t get in trouble for anything. Mind-control makes problems go away. Committing a little mild arson is a small price to pay for saving the lives of everyone these bastards will prey on in the future.
Cody pulls out the flare gun.
“Wait.” Ben puts a hand on it. “Not yet. The fiends are down a hall in another room. Need to give the gas a chance to spread.”
From here, I finally notice the giant propane tank outside the building. It’s bigger than a Smart Car. Might even be bigger than my Sentra.
“Did I ever ask you why you’re carrying a flare gun?” I whisper.
“Because we’re vampire hunters.” Cody grins.
“Why are you whispering? We’re outside.” Ben smiles.
“We’re still in the middle of doing something highly dangerous and illegal.” I smirk. “Whispering feels appropriate.”
Cody’s confidence falters. “Umm. Are we gonna get caught?”
I look around. Don’t see anyone watching. Don’t hear anyone nearby. “Probably not, but this is for a good cause. I got you covered.”
“Huh? How?” asks Ben.
“Wow, you guys can be dorks. Mind-control works on cops, too.”
“Wicked.” Cody grins. “You must get away with anything.”
“Nah. I can’t mind-control myself.” I fake pout. “I’m the good girl.”
Ben snickers. “The good girl about to blow up a nest of evil vampires.”
“Well, they are evil.” I speak from a position of total certainty. The old man’s thoughts confirmed my assumptions. They’ve been abducting and kill-feeding for a long damn time. Not nice people. Not even people anymore. Monsters.
“Dude, we need to get home. Mom’s gonna be pissed if we’re too late for dinner,” whispers Cody. “Gonna take the shot.”
“Few more minutes.” Ben looks up from his cell phone. “I just texted Mom to say we’re on the way home. She thinks we’re farther away than we are.”
“Cool.” Cody points the flare gun generally at the funeral home.
Four minutes later, Ben nods once.
Cody aims…
Pop!
A streak of orange zooms out of the barrel of the plastic pistol, flying in an arc before hitting the parking lot about ten feet short. The flare skitters off to the side, missing the window and lodging against the wall.
“Dammit.” Cody opens the pistol’s breech and stuffs in another shell. He snaps it closed, aims again.
“Aim higher. It’s not like a normal gun,” whispers Ben. “Arc it like an arrow.”
“Yeah.” Cody raises his arms a bit, as if he’s trying to shoot at the roof instead.
Pop!
The flare zooms across the road. Looks good for a second, but corkscrews into the wall next to the window.
“Crap!” Cody reloads so fast he almost drops the gun twice.
“Good aim, bad flare.” Ben pats him on the back. “Stupid thing curved.”
I look around in case someone’s come out to see what the noise is. This pistol isn’t quite as loud as a ‘real’ gun, more like a firecracker, but it still might make curious neighbors come looking. Still don’t see anyone, but privacy won’t last much longer. Also, I pick up the two spent shells he dropped. Do not want police finding those.
Cody fires again.
All three of us hold our breath, watching the tiny orange spot cruise across the dirt field in a graceful arc. Even without my powers online, time seems to hang still. The little glowing spot sinks… sinks… and sails through the window without even hitting the rim. Perfect three-point shot.
Nothing happens.
Cody lowers his arms, mouth open. “Aww, what the heck ha—”
Boom!
One second I’m staring confusedly at the window, the next, I’m flat on my back feeling like a speeding garbage truck hit me. Can’t see much due to having a face full of sunlight. Faint clonks and cracks occur randomly in the distance. Oh, the place must have exploded. Guess we were a bit too close and ate the concussion wave. At least nothing hurts. Merely a full-body stun.
A moment or two later, the boys crawl over to me.
“Sare, you okay?” asks Ben.
“I think so…” I sit up.
The funeral home is gone.
Like, gone. A couple pieces of the outer wall stick up around an enormous hole—the former basement. Ninety-eight percent of the building disintegrated into toothpicks and flew mostly upward like a giant shotgun blast fired out of the earth. Bits of wood, scraps of metal, and other fragments rain around us. For an instant, I think I hear the anguished scream of an older woman being burned alive. Kinda reminds me of Grandma Sheridan when the network interrupts Jeopardy for an emergency news broadcast.
“Holy shit,” I whisper. “You still have the flare gun?”
“Yeah.” Cody holds it up.
“Good. Don’t drop it to be found.”
“We gotta ge
t out of here now.” Ben pulls me to my feet.
The three of us run like hell.
31
Bona Fide
Mrs. Peters invites me to have dinner with them.
The boys’ father apparently got stuck at work late. She thinks I’m here alone in California—which is true—and doesn’t want me ‘wasting money’ by having to buy food out somewhere. I humor her and sit at the table. Talk about surreal. We just legit destroyed an entire building with a propane gas explosion and the boys are having dinner at home like nothing crazier happened than they played a winning game of football or soccer at school.
This can’t be healthy.
Mrs. Peters made enchiladas—enough to feed a small army. Over dinner, she tells me all about how much she loves Mexican food and always makes it in huge batches so she can freeze it for quick meals. It’s also bizarre to watch the boys lie to their parents, claiming they were out hiking along the Santa Clara River east of the city. They’re acting like we didn’t walk past a car with a smoldering toilet bowl smashed into its roof on the way here.
For the most part, I keep my mouth shut—except for eating—and try not to let my guilt show. I’m forced to muddle through a mostly believable lie about my reason for being in California—Helping a friend Cassandra move into a dorm.
After dinner, the three of us go upstairs to Cody’s room. I’m itching to get to the airport—probably LAX since it’s much closer than San Diego—but it wouldn’t feel right to just zoom out the door after something like what we did. Plus, I still need to wait for sunset. Can’t influence my way onto an airplane during the day.
Cody’s room is similar to Ben’s, only he’s got more ‘military’ decorations and only a single computer monitor. We went to his room because one of his windows faces the direction of the former funeral home.
The boys cram together by the window, both using binoculars to survey the blast site.
“Wow. I’ve never seen this many cops in one place,” says Ben.
“Lots of fire trucks, too.” Cody whistles. “It’s like apocalyptic.”
Vampire Innocent (Book 10): A Vampire’s Guide To Adulting Page 29
