The Mourning Woods - 03

by Rick Gualtieri

  “No, I really don’t. I have a rule about anybody who puts a couple thousand volts through me.”

  “Why doesn’t that surprise me?” I commented. “But acting hasty isn’t going to help, especially since I’m pretty sure Francois didn’t just put a couple of schlubs out there to babysit us. I’d be willing to bet that those guys know what they’re doing.”

  “Yeah, Bill’s right,” Ed said. “Getting our asses kicked by a bunch of frogs would be kind of embarrassing.”

  * * *

  We spent the next ten minutes arguing back and forth. Unfortunately, as tends to happen with our bickering, at times we got loud enough so that I’m sure the guards outside were more than aware of every single plan we came up with. The dickheads were probably snickering to themselves, in French no less. I will admit that thought did make me wonder whether Sally’s plan had some merit after all. Back in college, during my freshman year, the third floor of my dorm was reserved for international students. Let me tell you, there is definitely a secret to uniting people of all races, creeds, and religions...just add some French assholes to the mix. It didn’t matter where they came from or what they believed: Muslim, Jew or Hindu; Chinese, Japanese or Korean; black, white or mixed, they could all agree on one thing, everyone hated the French students. My god, what a bunch of smug, cliquish douche bags.

  I was still caught up in this reverie when I heard a noise from the entrance. The three us of turned to see a flash of light. There was a quick grunt of surprise and then two more flashes followed. I may not be the most experienced vamp, but I had seen more than my fair share of dustings to know one. I had little doubt that there were now three smarmy piles of ash lying in front of our tent.

  Before we could step out to investigate, the “who” part of the equation was answered for us. A figure stepped inside. Though covered up against the sun, the mismatched eyes were a dead giveaway.

  “Well, what are you all waiting for?” he asked.

  “Alex?”

  “Obviously,” he answered, pulling off his hood.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I’m pretty sure he just...”

  “I know what he did, Sally. Now’s not the time.”

  Alex ignored our little back and forth. “Indeed. The time for subtlety is over. Francois’s plans are nearing fruition. The First are counting on you, Freewill. Fulfill your destiny!”

  OK, that was a little heavy. Still, I guess he had a point. The fate of vampire-kind, heck potentially the entire world, was in the balance. I’d hate to go down in history as the dude who fucked it all up.

  “And that involves what exactly?” Ed asked.

  “Whatever you were planning on doing, human. I have simply removed the obstacles in your path. We do not have time to play Francois’s games any longer. Unfortunately, this place is swarming with those loyal to him. They will not take kindly to the disposal of their comrades, so you need to get moving now.”

  And just like that our original plan was back on. That was convenient. It was nice having my own personal deus ex machina. I could use one of those in my day to day life. Hmm, wonder if Alex would be available for hire after this whole debacle was done with. I mean if I pulled this off, then working for the legendary Freewill might be just as prestigious as working for the Draculas - with the added perk that I’m not nearly as big of an asshole.

  “Are you just going to stand there daydreaming?” he asked.

  “Sorry. Yeah, let’s get going.”

  Ed still had his shotgun and this time there was no argument from me when Sally grabbed her own sidearm. That being done, I motioned for them all to follow me. Of course, though, Alex hesitated.

  “Let me guess, you have other business to attend to?” I asked.

  “Sadly, yes. I am still gathering my own evidence. We will get more done if we split up.”

  Ah yes, spoken just like the victims from any of a hundred different horror movies. Why wasn’t I surprised? Oh, well, it’s not as if he was part of my original plan anyway.

  “Fine,” I replied. “Good luck.”

  “To you as well. May the luck of the First smile upon thee.”

  Yeah...OK. Personally, I’d rather they didn’t. It seems that the luck of the Draculas brings with it a flood of unwanted crap, much like giving your phone number to a telemarketer.

  We all stepped out of the hut. Alex immediately took off, heading...err...left (like I said, it’s not like I carry a compass). Within seconds, he was gone.

  “Well, that was a little weird,” Ed commented.

  “There’s a vamp after my own heart,” Sally replied, kicking one of the mounds of vampire dust. “Everyone packing?”

  Ed and Sally both had their guns. That left me. Thinking fast, I reached into one of the ash piles and plucked out a cattle prod. “I am now. Let’s go before anyone else shows up to rain on our parade.”

  * * *

  As before, I let Sally take the lead. Her nose was better attuned than mine was. I could smell Bigfoot stink all around us, but she could pinpoint the direction from whence it originated. Even without Grulg to show us the way, I had little doubt we’d come across Sasquatch central soon enough. The only question was whether we could do so unseen. Considering that we were armed, I doubted they’d believe we were just out for a morning stroll. People (and other things) are funny that way.

  Fortunately, luck was on our side...well OK, it probably wasn’t. I imagined that luck was probably waiting for just the right moment to deliver a massive kick to our teeth. What can I say, my almost-year of being a vampire had made me just a wee bit cynical about these things.

  Eventually we came across a fairly well-traveled trail. The number of oversized footprints leading both ways confirmed that we were on the right track. We followed it, trying to look as non-suspicious as possible (and probably failing at it).

  As we got closer and still didn’t see any sign of Turd’s followers, my confidence in our plan grew. This time yesterday, the Sasquatch tribe had been mostly asleep. Considering the “big news” that was being bandied about for the conference, I was hedging my bets that the majority of Turd’s followers would either be resting up for tonight’s festivities or off preparing for it. Of course, if we wound up being wrong...well that would be bad.

  * * *

  “It smells worse than the time Tom and I went to that all-you-can-eat Mexican buffet,” Ed commented.

  I had noticed it too. The Sasquatch village was just up ahead. We decided to chance leaving the trail to perform a little reconnaissance. If things looked too hairy (hah, I kill me), we’d bug out, hopefully without being caught.

  “There,” Sally whispered. Sure enough, I could see crude huts ahead. All looked quiet. So far, so good.

  We found a patch of dense bushes that offered both concealment as well as a good view. We hunkered down and proceeded to watch.

  For several minutes, there was little of interest to see. I soon grew bored. I have no idea how cops on stakeout do it. I’d be there for five minutes, see nothing and then radio in, “Looks like he’s innocent,” before driving off to find a donut shop.

  I was just about to suggest we either find a new vantage point or start moving in to investigate, when Sally grabbed my arm and pointed.

  “What?” I whispered. “It’s just a hut.”

  “Watch and learn, stupid.”

  “Fine, but I don’t see...holy shit!”

  “Pay dirt!” echoed Ed.

  On the far side of the village, about a hundred yards away, was an oversized, but otherwise unremarkable, hut. I figured it for maybe barracks or a meeting hall, nothing really interesting. However, there was one decisively odd thing about it...namely the vampire stepping out of it. It was Francois. He was dressed as dapper as ever, holding an umbrella to shield himself from the sun. He looked like a prissy little fuck. If he was a mega-douche, though, he was still dwarfed by the giant shit that followed him...a shit named Turd.

  * * *


  “Motherfucker,” I gasped.

  “We got the asshole,” Sally said, a wicked smirk coming over her face.

  “Yep. Ed, get a photo.”

  “What?”

  “Take a picture.”

  “With what?”

  “Didn’t you bring your cell phone?”

  “Why the fuck would I do that? If you wanted photos you should have brought your own fucking phone.”

  Oh, crap.

  “Sally?”

  “Don’t look at me,” she replied.

  “Goddamn it!” I spat.

  “Relax,” she said. “Look, they’re leaving.” Sure enough, they started walking off together.

  “How cute,” I replied. “It almost looks like they’re on a date.”

  Ed remarked, “For Francois’s sake, I hope he’s the pitcher and not the catcher.”

  I had to cover my mouth to keep from snorting laughter at that one. Asshole.

  Finally, Francois and Turd disappeared from sight, seemingly headed toward Turd’s hut. Who knows, maybe Francois had a real case of jungle fever after all. Unfortunately, that brought on a case of the chuckles again.

  “If you’re through amusing yourself, let’s go,” Sally said.

  “Go where?”

  “Inside there, moron,” Sally said, indicating the large hut. “There might be some proof as to what those two are up to.”

  Oh, yeah. I had been so preoccupied with the thought of Francois riding himself some giant monkey meat, I had almost forgotten about that part.

  I mentally got back into the game. I felt we were close. I didn’t know what awaited us, but I was sure we were on the precipice of something big. Whatever was inside that dwelling was important enough for Francois to gamble the fate of the world over. Surely, the risk to our lives would be worth it to prevent global Armageddon. I just hoped we didn’t have to find out whether or not that was true.

  A Sticky Situation

  We took it slow and made our way across the outskirts of the village. No point in fucking this up now when we were so close. Finally, we made it. We emerged from the brush behind our target.

  “Should we make a hole?” I said, indicating the back of the building.

  “No, it’s clear,” Sally replied. “Let’s try the front door. We just need to be quick about it.”

  “OK. Ed, maybe you should stay here and cover our rear.”

  “And maybe you should suck my dick. No way am I missing this.”

  I glanced at Sally. She gave an unconcerned shrug, then started forward. At the edge of the clearing, she stopped and looked around. Seeing nobody, she crouched down and waved us forward. The three of us crept toward the entrance about twenty feet hence.

  I don’t think any of us let out so much as a breath until we were safely inside the dwelling. Once there, we stopped to listen. I didn’t hear any sounds, but just to be safe I turned to Sally. She quickly shook her head, so we continued forward. The back of the entranceway was concealed by a rough curtain of what looked to be various animal pelts stitched together. I pushed it to the side and stepped through. As I waited for my eyes to adjust to the darkness within, Ed flipped on the flashlight attached to his shotgun.

  It wasn’t a barracks or a meeting hall (thank God for that former).

  “It’s a warehouse,” I whispered.

  “Or a distillery,” Ed said.

  Crudely made wooden barrels filled the area, save for the far end. There, large cauldrons rested over a bed of coals.

  “Do you smell that?” Sally asked.

  “Sasquatch ass?”

  “No, besides that. It smells...sweet.”

  “Sugar-coated Sasquatch ass?” I ventured, earning myself an eye-roll.

  Sally stepped up to one of the barrels. “It’s coming from inside of these.” It was capped, but little things like breaking and entering aren’t a concern for a person such as Sally. Extending her claws, she dug them in until she found purchase, then easily pried the top off.

  Ed and I both stepped forward to look. Inside was a thick, viscous liquid.

  “What is it?” Ed asked.

  “Sally’s right. It does smell sweet.”

  “That doesn’t answer my question,” he rightly pointed out.

  “True enough,” Sally said. “Only one way to find out.” She reached forward and dipped two fingers into the substance. “Hmm, it’s sticky. I wonder...”

  “Wonder what?” I asked.

  Before either my roommate or I could say anything else, Sally’s other hand shot out and grabbed Ed by the throat. His mouth opened in surprised and Sally jammed her fingers into it.

  “There,” she said brightly enough. “Is it what I think it is?”

  “What the fuck, Sally?” I growled. “That stuff could be...”

  “Syrup,” Ed said simply enough

  “What?”

  “You heard him, simpleton,” replied a smarmy voice from behind us. “It’s maple syrup. Now kindly step away before you contaminate the whole batch.”

  * * *

  “So now you know,” Francois said. He and the massive form of Turd stood there, blocking our escape. “The question is what do we do with you now?”

  “Ignoring the whole ‘what the fuck are you talking about’ part for the moment,” I replied. “How did you know we were here?”

  “Smelled Tlunta coming,” Turd answered. Oh, yeah. We forgot about throwing ourselves into Sasquatch crap to cover our scent. Argh! Fucking stupid. On the upside, at least we weren’t caught covered in shit. That would have been fairly embarrassing...not to mention kind of nasty when Sally jammed her fingers into Ed’s mouth.

  “Fair enough,” I replied, trying to buy time...for what, I had no idea. “Now we can get back to my main point: what the fuck are you talking about?”

  “As if you didn’t know.”

  “Actually I don’t,” I said honestly.

  “Don’t try and...” Francois stopped and looked thoughtful for just a moment. “You really have no idea?”

  “Nope.”

  “Me neither,” Sally replied.

  “I got nothing,” Ed added.

  “They lie!” Turd growled, taking a step toward us.

  Oh, crap. Even armed as we were, we stood absolutely zero chance against Turd and Francois together. Francois appeared willing to talk, but if Turd decided we needed to die a grisly (and sticky) death, I was willing to bet that Francois would be more than willing to lend a hand.

  Thinking quickly, I decided to do what I do best when confronted by deadly hell-beasts...bluff my ass off.

  “We’ve already done this dance, Turd,” I snarled, taking my own step forward...coming disturbingly close to being within his reach. “You lost. Try me again and I’ll chew you up and spit you out like the little shit you are.” (Did I just imply that I eat shit?)

  To my incredible relief, Turd actually hesitated. It gave Sally and Ed both a chance to level their respective weapons at him, hopefully adding to my threat.

  Still, if Turd smelled us coming I had little doubt he’d soon catch a whiff of our desperation. I needed to keep talking and hope for a break.

  “Is it really worth it, you two? Seriously, you’d both risk war over...syrup?”

  “War?” Francois spat. “You honestly don’t know what this is about, do you?”

  “That’s what we said.”

  “Turd, stand down. I don’t think that will be necessary.” Turd, rounded on him with a glare, to which Francois quickly added, “Please, your mightiness. It behooves none of us to resort to bloodshed...for now.”

  Mollified, Turd relaxed and stepped back. I wasn’t sure if Francois was genuinely afraid of him or just kissing his hairy ass, but whatever the case, it worked. I nodded to my friends and they lowered their guns. This was the break we were hoping for. Now we just had to make use of it. The trick was going to be getting these two psychos to talk and then figuring out some way to make a break for it. I tried thinking back to my high scho
ol chemistry classes. Was maple syrup explosive? Nah, probably not.

  “There will be no war, Freewill. There was never going to be,” Francois said in a confident tone.

  “So then why the hell are we all out here in Bumblefuck, Canada?” Sally asked, not really helping things.

  “Stupid Tlunta. You here because Turd is smart. I know worth of sacred trees. Worth that others will pay dearly for.”