“So...you want to be a lumber baron?” I asked.
“No!” Francois exclaimed. “My god you are dense. I’ve already said it. The syrup, it’s worth its weight in liquid gold.”
My friends and I exchanged dubious glances with each other. I was fairly sure none of us had been expecting this. Hell, I suddenly wasn’t sure that we hadn’t somehow walked onto the set of some weird-ass reality TV show. This was almost too fucking surreal to be happening.
“So let me get this straight,” I said, indicating the barrels behind me. “This whole thing: the conference, the threat of war, everything...is all so you two can corner the worldwide syrup market?”
“He who controls the maple, controls Canada,” Francois replied, an avaricious gleam in his eye.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“Foolish child, do you not know the value of that which you stand before? Why in your country alone it’s a six billion dollar market.”
“Really?”
“Yes!” he cried, the crazy coming to the forefront.
“So all that shit from the other day, the ritual combat and all was a setup?” Sally asked.
“Quite true.”
“But what about Turd’s mate?”
At this, Turd chuckled. “Turd have many mates. She was least favorite.”
“Harsh, dude,” Ed commented.
“All’s fair in love and war,” Francois replied with a sneer. “There are always bound to be pawns in any chess game. Take the Khan for instance. The fat fool dared occupy my rightful seat on the First Coven.”
“That was all part of this too?” I stammered.
“Of course. We needed a way to bring all the parties to the negotiating table. He was a more than acceptable casualty.”
“And now that we know, we get to be acceptable casualties too, right?” Sally asked, gripping her gun tighter. “Just how I always wanted to check out, killed by Aunt Jemima.”
“So that’s how it’s going to be then, eh?” I asked, readying myself for an attack that was probably only moments away.
“There’s no need for that,” Francois said calmly. “Unless you force my hand, that is. Killing the tramp and the human would be inconsequential; however, killing the legendary Freewill would lead to uncomfortable questions. I would just as soon not deal with such.”
“But you have to know I’m going to rat you out,” I replied.
“Will you?”
“Uh, I’m pretty sure I just said I would.”
“That would be a shame. Then I couldn’t offer you a share of the profits in exchange for your silence.”
There was a pause in the conversation. Did this dickhead just offer me a bribe? He must think we have rocks in our head to...
“How much are we talking about?” Sally asked.
“What? Are you seriously...”
“I’m with her, Bill,” Ed said. “Let’s hear him out. He did say it was a six billion dollar industry.”
“Yeah but...” and then it hit me. Ed was right. I could stand on my principles and try to fight my way out of this mess...probably losing in the process. Or I could take a big fat paycheck, keep my stupid mouth shut, and walk out of here both wealthy, a hero, and without getting my ass kicked. Don’t get me wrong. I like to think of myself as a pretty ethical guy...but I’m not a fucking idiot.
I looked at my companions. They both nodded. Still, I had to consider the consequences of my actions. I’d be a hero, sure, but it would be undeserved. Also there was a good chance that this asshole would get credit for the peace talks and wind up getting the open slot with the Draculas. From what I had heard, the Draculas were already a giant cluster of dicks. Did I really want to make it worse by putting this douche on the ruling council, fucking over a friend - James - in the process?
On the other hand, not dying was definitely appealing. Fulfilling this would also get the Draculas’ off my back with regards to the debt they felt I owed them. Then there was the money. Not having to work again was a serious perk. I could buy myself a new computer. Hell, I could buy a nice car and new clothes. I could even afford to whisk Sheila away on a romantic weekend for two to someplace exotic like Aruba. But, would she respect me if she knew I had done this?
Fuck it! It’s not as if she would ever know. Should I ever confess my love to her, I doubt I would include a statement about selling out the vampire nation. That settled it. Aruba, here we come.
“I think we can make a deal,” I said. “Like Sally said, how much are we talking about?”
“Ten million at the very least,” Francois answered with a big grin.
Whoa! Papa gonna buy himself a very nice brand new bag. “Each or split three ways?” I asked - hey since we were negotiating.
“You misunderstand, Freewill,” Francois said. “There will be no split. The less who know about this, the better. As I said, their deaths are inconsequential.”
Uh oh.
I opened my mouth to protest. “Now wait just a...”
Unfortunately, I was a second too late. One of the barrels went flying over my shoulder, slamming into Turd like a...syrup filled missile I guess. The container shattered, drenching both Francois and him in the goop. Unfortunately, Turd didn’t budge an inch from the force of the impact.
“Turd no like being sticky.”
“You’ll regret th...” Francois started to say, when another barrel slammed into him. Sally’s aim was impeccable.
“Move, now!” she ordered, right before opening fire. Before Ed and I could even take a step, both Francois and Turd had each taken a fifty caliber slug in the leg. No way was it going to stop them, but it would hopefully make all the difference in a foot race, which is exactly what we now found ourselves in; except instead of a gold medal, the prize was our lives.
French Fried Mountain Oysters
“Please tell me you’re still packing those silver slugs,” I said, making it back outside.
“Never leave home without them,” she replied with a sly grin. That was good. Silver didn’t mix well with vampire blood. Right about now, Francois’s leg should be starting to look like a giant Roman candle. Unfortunately, I had no idea if it would have the same effect on Turd.
“Think it’ll stop them?” Ed asked.
A bellowing roar answered before I could. Yep, that was about what I expected.
“Sally, you take Ed and make a run for it. I’ll try to hold them off.”
“Really?”
“No, not fucking really! Do I look batshit crazy to you?” I yelled, bolting for the tree line.
* * *
“Crippled or not, we can’t outrun them as this pace,” Sally stated. She was right. Our vampiric speed was one thing, but Ed was still human. Though arguably in better shape than I was, he wasn’t exactly a long distance sprinter (I had once heard him say, “people who have time to jog should get a second job.”). I wasn’t about to leave him behind and thus had matched his pace. Sally, in a surprising show of humanity, had done likewise.
“I’m open for suggestions.”
“You could leave me behind and try to find help,” Ed said.
“No way, dude.”
“Good,” he replied with a grin. “Because if you had said yes, I would’ve shot you in the back.”
“Asshole.”
“If you two are finished verbally blowing each other,” Sally growled, “we could use a real plan.”
Another roar followed by a splintering crash told us that Turd was on the move. If we were going to come up with something above and beyond let Turd run us down and tear us limb from limb it would have to be soon.
“It sounds like there’s only one of them,” Ed said. That made sense. As I had noticed earlier, the settlement had looked deserted. The other Sasquatches had presumably been sent ahead to prep for the day’s events. Still, I would have expected at least a few guards. Was it possible that Turd was keeping his dealings with Francois under wraps from his own people?
Turd obvi
ously kept some of his followers in the loop; that would explain the squatch that accused us of being defilers. On the other hand, there was Grulg. He was obviously not overly pleased with his leader’s antics. The big question was whether the majority of his people knew about this. Considering the empty village, I was willing to bet the answer to that was “no.” I had pretty much dismissed Turd’s technology fetish, but perhaps there was something to it after all. Maybe it was something we could use.
Another bellow echoed through the woods, this one a lot closer.
Shit! I wouldn’t be able to use anything against anyone if I got my head pounded into mush.
“We need to make a stand,” I shouted, before I could consider the idiocy of saying so. Seems the Dr. Death persona deep within my psyche was once again feeling brave. Oh, well, it was better than nothing...barely.
“We can’t outrun him in the woods, and we can’t hide either,” I explained. “But if we concentrate everything we have, we might be able to stop him.”
“I can dig that,” Sally said, loading a fresh clip into her comically oversized handgun.
“No killing,” I warned.
“Aw, you take all the fun out of my afterlife.”
“If we do that, we might as well sign the declaration of war ourselves.”
“Bill’s got a point,” Ed agreed.
“First time for everything,” Sally replied. “What about Francois?”
“Fuck him,” I said. “We light that asshole up like the Fourth of July.”
“Ooh,” she purred. “Now you’re making me all tingly inside.”
* * *
We got lucky and emerged into a small clearing. At the far side, we stopped and took cover amongst the trees. Sally and Ed aimed their weapons, while I readied the cattle prod just in case they didn’t stop him.
Suddenly a thought hit me. “If he doesn’t go down, stop firing and try to draw him off,” I whispered.
“Why?”
“I’ll jump on his back and bite him.”
“Will that work?”
“Beats the fuck out of me,” I replied.
Sally and Ed both exchanged doubtful glances. Gotta love their faith in me. Oh, well, fuck it. It’s not as if they had anything better to offer.
We hunkered down and waited. The second Turd showed his ugly face we were going to give him a twenty-one bullet salute.
Only he didn’t show up. Only seconds earlier, it had sounded like he was right behind us, but now it was quiet. Too quiet.
Oh, fuck! Suddenly I remembered that these guys weren’t just giant, foul-smelling apes. They were giant, foul-smelling forest spirits. Trying to catch Turd in an ambush would be like a bunch of backwoods rednecks hoping to master the intricacies of the NYC subway system on their first try. A sinking feeling hit my gut; however, that almost immediately paled in comparison to the feeling that hit the back of my head.
*WHAM* One second I was thinking how fucked we were going to be, and the next I was sent flying, completely clear on the concept of how fucked we actually were.
I landed hard, eating dirt (I hoped) as the sound of gunfire erupted behind me.
* * *
I was lifting myself from the ground, when a foot planted itself squarely in my back, forcing me down. It was way too small to be Turd’s.
“You disappoint me, Freewill,” said Francois. “Such a strategy would have been pathetic for a two-year-old, much less a being of your legendary status.”
I tried to spit out a witty retort, but my face was pressed down into the dirt.
“What was that?” he asked, bemused. “Sorry, I didn’t catch you?” The foot lifted off of me, but almost immediately impacted into my side. I rolled over onto my back with a gasp of breath. Francois’s foot came down onto my chest, again pinning me in place and cracking a few ribs for good measure.
I blinked the debris out of my eyes and looked to find Francois grinning down at me. “I believe you dropped this,” he said, bringing up a bloodied hand and dropping something from his fingers.
The bullet plinked off my forehead (ouch). I looked at the leg holding me down. There was a massive gash in it, mostly cauterized. Goddamn! The crazy asshole had dug the bullet out with his own fingers. This guy was hardcore.
Sound suddenly caught my attention from behind Francois. It was a tree splintering, followed by a cry of pain...Sally.
I struggled to sit up, but Francois just pressed down even harder. It was getting difficult to breath.
“No no no, Freewill. Let us not interrupt. Turd would be ever so cross if we intervened in his fun. You really should have taken my offer. Your friends are still going to die, and now you’ll be left with nothing.”
“Nothing?” I spat back. “I can still rat you out.”
“And who would believe you? You are the aggressor here after all. You came to Turd’s village to assassinate him. It just so happened that you failed.”
“Assassinate?”
“Yes. You obviously got past my guards - probably even killed them - in your mad quest to start a war. We even have the wounds to prove it now,” Francois replied, his sneer growing ever more arrogant. “Why, if Turd wasn’t so busy killing your little trollop, I would almost consider thanking her for setting this up so perfectly.”
As he rambled, I began feeling around with my hands for something I could maybe use as leverage to get him off of me. I didn’t stand a chance against him or Turd, but I’d be damned if I was going to let either of these shits kill my friends without trying to do something about it. All I needed was a rock, a branch or a...my hand closed upon something even better.
“I’ll tell you this, asshole,” I said. “Your plan has a lot of balls.”
“Doesn’t it though?” he replied.
“Yeah...pity that you don’t,” I spat before bringing the cattle prod up and slamming it into his smarmy French crotch.
Round Two
There was an instant satisfying sizzle (although don’t ask me about the smell, let’s just say it’s going to be a while before I can enjoy fried salami again) and Francois let out a yelp. He actually backed up a step, letting the pressure off of me, but sadly, that was it. A shock powerful enough to knock a buffalo on its ass was little more than a joy buzzer to a vamp of his age.
He swung and knocked the weapon from my hand. It was little more than a casual swat for him, but I felt at least two of my fingers break. Goddamn, this guy was tough. If only...
Jesus Christ, I am a fucking moron. Sometimes I forget that I have a few tricks up my own sleeve.
Quickly, before my rational mind could talk me out of it, I tried to sit up. As expected, Francois aimed a kick at my head. Stupidly for him, he did it with the same leg that had been holding me down...the leg with a still oozing wound. I let him catch me square on the mouth with it, sinking my teeth into the still raw flesh without really being aware I was doing it.
I wrapped my arms around his leg, and held on for dear life as I bit deep into his thigh (damn, if that didn’t sound a bit fruity). The force from the blow would have probably knocked me flat out unconscious had I not managed to get a mouthful of blood at the same time. I swallowed and it hit my gut like a flamethrower. Immediately I felt myself powering up. Time to go Super Saiyan, motherfucker.
Francois screamed as I dug in like a tick. I felt his fist slam into the side of my head and for a moment was pretty sure I had been decapitated. Fortunately, his blood had also kicked my vampiric healing into overdrive. I bit deeper and felt my cracked skull knitting itself back together. One last crunch and I found what I was looking for. A massive gush of blood washed over me as I chewed through Francois’s femoral artery (or whatever it’s called...I leave the anatomy shit to my friend Dave). I sucked it down as quickly as I could. I was going to need the extra juice.
Finally, with one last gulp, I shoved Francois away before he could try and punt a field goal with my head again. He went flying back, nearly to the edge of the clearing.
&nb
sp; I stood up, feeling his power course through me. Suddenly a worried thought hit me. I waited for a moment; however, no change came over me. I suddenly realized why. As amped up as I was (and believe me, I felt like I could bench a truck), Francois’s blood wasn’t as strong as that which had transformed me two days prior. Heck, it wasn’t even in the same ballpark.
That was a sobering thought. Somewhere out there was a vamp whose power made James and Francois look like children comparatively.
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