The Mourning Woods - 03

by Rick Gualtieri

  “Go.”

  “Huh?”

  “That’s your cue,” James said from behind me. “Go out and meet the other delegation.”

  “Oh, OK,” I replied, really wishing I had paid better attention.

  “Good luck,” James said, sounding as if he truly wished he believed it. Talk about making a guy feel confident about himself. “And remember what I said.”

  “No, prob,” I replied, walking forward, having no idea what I was supposed to remember.

  I turned to find my friends following me. I looked at them quickly, each in turn.

  “You did get all of that, right?” Sally asked.

  I blinked stupidly back at her, but then replied, “Of course.”

  My group passed Francois, and his team of negotiators fell in step behind me as well. Guess things were about to start. I just wish I knew exactly what that entailed.

  * * *

  I reached the conference table, then turned to Francois’s group. “Where should I sit?”

  Apparently, these guys were all relatives of Sally’s. They gave me an almost synchronized eye-roll. Finally one of them, a prissily dressed vampire with salt and pepper hair, replied in a heavy French accent, “At ze’ head of ze’ table, but not now. We must greet our...how do you say...counterparts.” He pointed one well manicured finger to a spot near the middle of the table, so that’s where I walked, the others once again in tow.

  As I did, the glowing ball of doom continued to drone on. I likewise continued ignoring it until I noticed that all of the Sasquatches in the valley had once again started hooting. Guess their big cheese was finally making an appearance. I looked to the far end and saw their contingent getting ready to step out. All of them were impressive looking, for disgustingly dirty apes at least, but the one in the lead looked like he had just stepped out of a horror movie.

  Nearly ten feet tall, he made Grulg look puny by comparison. Fangs, longer and thicker than mine, protruded from his lips. Strapped across his chest, like a primitive bandolier, were several skulls: some human, some...well, who the fuck knows. All I know is that if someone handed this guy a bowcaster he’d look like Chewbacca’s bigger uglier cousin.

  Well, Alex had told me that the guy in charge of this place had won out over his rivals. I could see why. I was just starting to think that this thing would stand a chance of winning favorable terms on intimidation alone, when suddenly our moderator spoke again and completely trashed that idea for me.

  “...THEY ARE REPRESENTED BY THE MIGHTY LEADER OF THE NORTHERN TRIBES, TURD.”

  Did he just say...? Nah. I turned back to my group. Francois’s asshole buddies were all standing there stoic and straight-faced. Tom and Ed had the same questioning look as I, both of them straining to keep grins off their faces. Sally took one look at me and mouthed what looked like, “Grow up.” I was almost tempted to heed her advice when suddenly every Sasquatch in the area began to chant.

  “Turd, Turd, Turd, Turd....”

  That did it. I could feel a smirk coming over my face and there was nothing I could do to stop it. Suddenly I knew what James had tried to warn me about, but now it was too late. Some things just cannot be prepared for.

  I turned and scanned the crowd. I saw James, Francois, and their various minions seated near the front row. Upon seeing my grin, James dropped his face into his hands. Gotta love his confidence. Well OK, it was probably deserved. I mean c’mon, the guy’s name was “Turd,” for Christ’s sake.

  So Turd (oh, God, that just keeps getting funnier) and his small group strode forward. With their size, they were upon us within seconds. He walked straight up to me and I made the mistake of looking forward and not up. Due to Turd’s size, I found myself eye level with his Sasquatch-sized junk. I could sense the Bigfoot chieftain glowering down at me, but it didn’t matter. What I found far more menacing was Turd’s dick, which was just about a foot away from slapping the shit out of me.

  “Well, you finally get to live out your fantasy, Bill,” I heard Tom snicker softly from behind me.

  It was quickly followed by Sally hissing, “Shut up!”

  “THE LEADERS OF EACH PARTY WILL NOW GREET EACH OTHER.”

  Greet? Oh, crap. I was suddenly hit with an image of me reaching out and giving Turd’s wang a friendly shake hello. I could feel the grin beginning to win out over my control. Fuck me! I was gonna plunge us into global Armageddon in the first minute alone.

  “Freewill,” came a voice from above. I looked up to see Turd’s snarling mouth speaking. “You are different than I imagined.” I’m sure this last part was meant to be ambiguous, but the tone of his voice definitely implied a heavy insult. He needn’t have bothered. For starters, I’ve been insulted by the best. Hell, I deal with Sally on a daily basis. Secondly, the breath that wafted down at me was insult enough. Motherfucker! These guys might hate civilization, but at least we understand the concept of mouthwash.

  “I look forward to challenging you,” he finished.

  Why did that sound like a threat? Probably because it was. Oh, well, fuck this shit. Alex told me I was in charge, so I might as well set the tone for things.

  There was a pause, so I assumed it was my turn. I looked up and locked eyes with Turd. There was a grin of sorts (I guess) on his face. He knew how big and nasty he looked. The giant fuckhead probably thought I was too scared to speak. Well, he might’ve been right had his name not been Turd and had his dick not been swinging right in front of my face. Those two things combined activated my automatic asshole defenses.

  “Oh, mighty Turd,” I said, letting the grin win out. “I pay you great respect. I have seen much in my time, but know that you are the largest and most impressive turd I have ever witnessed.”

  A series of choking coughs broke out behind me. I knew that would get Tom and Ed going. Amusingly enough, judging by what I heard, Sally was having a hard time keeping it together as well.

  “In fact,” I continued, “I would say, you are perhaps the greatest turd of them all.”

  A look of shock came over Turd’s face. I was pretty sure I was about to get pummeled. Guess I laid it on a little too thick.

  However, he surprised me. “You pay great honor to Turd, Freewill,” he replied solemnly, almost sounding I dare say embarrassed by his earlier insults. “Turd will remember this.”

  I tried to keep it together. All in all not a bad outcome, considering I had just called him a gigantic pile of shit. Gotta love those language barriers.

  * * *

  The formalities done, we seated ourselves. Turd and I wound up at the head of our respective ends. Once we were seated, Nergui took a place behind my chair, whereas a Sasquatch, nearly as large and ugly as Turd, stood behind him - a massive club in one hand. Damn, I wouldn’t want to get smashed with that thing.

  I couldn’t help but notice the discrepancies between us. There sat Turd, stupid name aside, looking every bit the warrior chieftain. Contrast this to me: a dumpy guy, just shy of six feet tall, wearing glasses, a ratty old winter coat, and, oh, yeah, a Snapple bottle half-filled with blood sitting in front of me. I could probably be called a lot of things right then and there, but I doubted impressive was one of them. Hell, whereas Turd’s bodyguard looked like he was there for show alone, I probably looked like I would hide behind Nergui at the first sign of trouble (which wasn’t too far from the truth).

  * * *

  Fortunately, I needn’t have worried myself, at least not for that first session. James was right. It was all administrative bullshit, several hours of it. What was to be discussed, what was not to be discussed, things that were off limits for negotiation, what data would be admissible, blah blah blah. After a while, I just zoned out and let Francois’s lackeys handle the details. I wasn’t alone in this either. Sally leaned back and actually began filing her nails. Ed nodded off, not being entirely used to keeping the hours of the undead. As for Tom, he kept making goo-goo eyes out to the audience. I didn’t bother to look, but it was a fair bet he had fou
nd where Christy was seated.

  Looking across the table, it was obvious even Turd was bored. He had one massive elbow propped on the table and was using that hand to support his ugly head. He definitely seemed the type who would favor all-out conflict over what was transpiring; hashing out a truce for days on end. That made me curious. I had no idea of the inner workings of Sasquatch society, but there had to be at least some faction that wanted peace, otherwise we wouldn’t be here. Of course, it was just possible that they weighed their chances in an all-out war and decided that they weren’t very good.

  Ugh! I shook my head to clear it. I’m no strategist. Hell, two Sundays ago, I couldn’t even lead my party on a successful raid of an Orc fortress without getting spotted by every single sentry they had. It was probably best to leave such musings to those in a position (and with more of a mindset) to care.

  My mind began to wander again when I was suddenly jolted back to reality by a commotion at the far end of the table. One of the Bigfoot negotiators had stood up and was now pounding loudly on the table.

  “No! We end this now!” he yowled. End what now? I found myself kind of wishing I had been paying attention.

  Suddenly all eyes were on him, including Turd’s. I was curious to see what would happen. Would Turd reel in his dog, or let things devolve? However, he just sat there with a contemplative (for a ten foot ape) look on his face as the other creature continued with its tirade.

  “Rise, my brothers! Rise and let us kill the Tlunta!” He slammed both fists upon the table, then reared up and began beating his chest (ooh, Tarzan eat your heart out). “No peace! NO PEA...” He was cut off mid-rant. A bolt of energy shot out of the orb still hovering over the table. There was a flash and when it cleared, nothing was left of the offending ape except a smelly pile of ash and some burnt hair.

  “YOU ARE OUT OF ORDER,” the phantom orb calmly said.

  Holy shit! Most moderators will just beat a gavel. Whatever this thing was, it was just a wee bit more effective. Just fucking wonderful. Now, not only did I have to worry about being clubbed to death by Turd’s massive beef stick, but if I got up to protest it, I could get phasered by V’Ger here.

  Even worse, the crowd went nuts over it, and I’m not just talking about our supporters either (not that I could really tell them apart). I was right about this being an arena, and the crowd was apparently thirsty for blood.

  Looks of shock went up and down my end of the table. They were mirrored on the other side, but there was quite a bit of anger there as well. Turd, however, was surprisingly calm. He simply nodded once and then went back to being bored. Suddenly I was sure he had planned it. The motherfucker wanted to know what the boundaries were and what would happen if they were crossed. Goddamn! Turd was a real shit.

  When You Gotta Go

  Fortunately, that was the end of the excitement, for the time being anyway. A replacement was called in to take the seat of the Bigfoot who was “out of order,” then the negotiators tried to get back on track. It was obvious, though, that everyone (at least everyone not named “Turd”) was still rattled. After another hour, the moderator called for a recess until the following evening.

  I stood, stretched, and then gaped as I watched the crowd disperse. Some simply walked (or slithered) away. Others vanished in puffs of smoke or flashes of light, and this one group of lizardy-looking things simply seemed to melt into the ground. Pretty freaky stuff, or it least it would have been had I not both lived in New York and seen just about every Sci-Fi movie ever made. Still, it was kind of cool.

  As we left the table, Christy came walking over, still wearing her white wizarding robes. I momentarily found myself wondering if she was wearing anything underneath; however, I quickly quashed that thought. Cute though she may be, I try to ix-nay any sex fantasies involving chicks who want me dead. Double that for ones who are banging Tom.

  “You were great!” she squealed, giving Tom a big hug.

  “Great?” I scoffed. “He didn’t do anything.”

  “True,” he replied. “But did you?”

  “Sure. I insulted Turd and didn’t get my ass kicked.”

  “Yes, but I managed to almost not laugh while you were doing it.”

  “Fair enough,” I grudgingly admitted.

  “Come on,” she said, taking his hand. “I’ll introduce you to my coven sisters.”

  “Just don’t wipe his mind or anything,” I called after them. Oh, well, even if she did was it really that much of a loss?

  “Not bad, Bill,” Sally commented, catching my attention. She walked up alongside of me as I headed toward the group of waiting vampires. “You managed to keep from getting us all killed on the first day. Looks like I owe Starlight fifty bucks.”

  “Your faith in me is astounding.”

  I was heading toward James; however, Francois’s arrogant mug stepped in front of me before I could get to him.

  “Well done, Freewill,” he said with a sneer. “Your antics with the Sasquatch leader aside, I commend you for following instructions. Continue to do your part as told, and we will surely achieve our desired outcome.”

  “Our desired outcome?”

  Francois adopted an innocent tone as he answered, “Of course, peace. Is that not why we are here?”

  “Of course,” I echoed.

  “Then we are decided. Sleep well this day, Freewill, for tomorrow night the true negotiations begin.” With that, Francois nodded to his people and began walking away.

  I waited for him to be out of sight, then padded a few extra seconds onto that before finally saying to James, “That guy is a serious asshole.”

  “On that we are agreed.”

  “Seconded,” Ed said. “Now if you’ll excuse me. I didn’t realize the supernatural world wasn’t big on bathroom breaks.” He left us, heading back in the direction of our huts.

  “Hold up, I’ll go with you,” Sally proclaimed, following him.

  James watched them go. “Should you perhaps be worried about your friend? It was a long meeting after all.”

  “It’s not his blood I’m worried about her sucking.”

  A confused look came momentarily over James’s face. “Whatever you say.”

  “Speaking of blood,” I said, holding up my now empty bottle. “Would you happen to have a refill? We packed enough to get here, but suffice to say the room service kind of sucks.”

  James smiled and nodded. “I expected as much. Though the Alma have been accepting of these talks, we are still their ancient enemies. I wouldn’t expect them to be particularly cordial with regards to the accommodations. I took the liberty of having one of my men restock your supplies while you were partaking in the opening talks.”

  “Really? That’s super cool of you.”

  “There should be enough for both you and Sally for the next several days.”

  “For me, at least. Sally doesn’t like the chilled stuff. She’d rather flash some leg and let the other vamps invite her over for breakfast.”

  “Hmm, I’ll make sure my people have plenty of thralls around, then.”

  “You said that word before, thralls. Do you really have humans enslaved to your will? Is that even possible?”

  James laughed at that. “Considering your friends, do you really want to know?”

  I thought about it for a second. “No, probably not.”

  * * *

  I arrived back at my hut with still a few hours to go until sunrise. I entered, debating how best to utilize the time, and then realized it was empty. That was kind of a relief. Though I had no reason to believe that Ed was indeed boning Sally, that didn’t mean a small part of me wasn’t half expecting to walk in on them doing just that. My roommates and I have a long standing rule against seeing each other’s junk, and I’d hate to break it.

  But, oh, well. Pushing aside thoughts of Ed railing Sally like the dirty little bitch my brain insisted she was, I walked over to the cooler. I opened it and found that James was good to his word. It had been fil
led with pints of blood and a few ice packs to keep them cool. Awesome! Just what the doctor ordered, and I mean a sane doctor, not my buddy Dave.

  I was reaching in for a drink when I heard a gun blast, and not just any gun. I know what a shotgun sounds like, and as far as I’m aware, Ed was the only person in the area with one. That wasn’t good.

  I immediately headed for the door. What have you done now, Sally?

  * * *

  Thanks God for vampiric senses. Between the sound of the shot and knowing what Ed smelled like (and believe me, after several days in the car I got plenty of good whiffs of them all), I was able to immediately discern the general direction it had come from. I stepped from the hut and noticed several other vampires milling about, minding their own business, and pretty much ignoring the fact that someone had just fired off a twelve-gauge. Goddamn, vampires are assholes. Shit happens and they just sit around with their thumbs up their asses. And yet, I’m supposed to be on their side.