by Roger Keller
“’Cause I kept running.” Ron slammed his fist on the steering wheel.
“What? You just ran past Mike’s car like a fucking spaz.” Heather laughed out loud and looked back at me. “And then what, you were going to run all the way back to your apartment?”
“I figured if I took the car, you guys would kill me,” he said.
“We’d kill you no matter what if you ran out on us,” Heather said.
“Wake me up when we get to your place, Heather.” Misty mumbled and curled up like a kitten on the seat next to me. I set the book by her.
“So, I think we can relax now,” I said, “for a little while anyway.”
“I was always relaxed.” Heather put her boots up on the ruined dashboard.
“Bull, shit.” I kicked the back of her seat. She giggled.
“Relax,” Ron said. “Are you fucking shitting me?”
“I think little Ronny is starting to crack,” Heather said.
Ron’s pills must have been wearing off. He kept glancing at Heather, fully aware of what he was sharing the car with.
“Pull in here, buddy.” I tapped Ron’s shoulder and pointed at a gas station.
*****
I couldn’t believe how many people were milling around a gas station at three in the morning. They all avoided my eyes and shuffled away to pay for their junk food and soda. I grabbed a case of high gravity, malt liquor.
“This the strongest shit you got?” I said.
“No alcohol sales after midnight,” the little man behind the counter said, in an accent I couldn’t place.
I threw a hundred dollar bill on the counter. He grabbed it, his eyes never leaving mine, afraid I’d reach over and grab him.
“There, you may have the alcohol, sir,” he said with visible disgust. “Now you must leave.”
“Change.” I wasn’t fucking around.
The little man stared for a second, his face twitching. The register opened and he jumped. He didn’t even realize he’d hit the button. He grabbed a handful of assorted bills, without counting them, and pushed them across the counter.
“Now leave.” He tapped a bulge under his shirt. I couldn’t blame him for carrying, with a job like his. “You know, you are a very strange man, strange and dangerous. I can tell. You are not the strangest thing I have seen while working this very awful job. I can not wait until I have saved enough money to return to my own country and retire.”
“Well, I’ve never been to your country, but I bet you guys have strange things there too. I bet you never noticed them before.” I took the money and turned to leave. “I hope for your sake that you haven’t learned to see strange things. ‘Cause once you start, there’s no way to turn it off.”
*****
I tapped Heather’s window. “You’re driving,” I said. “Ron, you’re demoted to back seat.”
He climbed in back, breathing easier. I got into the shotgun seat, grabbed a beer and handed the case back to Ron.
“Drink up,” I said.
“They still make that shit?” Heather curled her lip, showing off a fang.
“Yeah, they reintroduced it about ten years ago,” I said. “I used to drink it when I was really broke.”
“A phrase spoken by everyone who drank that shit, ever,” Heather said.
Ron finished off a whole can and threw it out the window.
“That’s nine percent alcohol,” I said. “Don’t puke in my car.”
“I can handle it.” He cracked open another can. The warm beer foamed over and spilled on his pants. “Heather, hey Heather.”
“What Ron?” She said, with a playful edge in he voice.
“You’re gonna kill us all, aren’t you?” he said. “You’ll even kill Mike after a while, won’t you?”
“I have other plans for Mike,” she said.
I almost spit my beer out when I heard that. I swallowed hard and tried to keep cool, or at least look it.
“As for you and Missy, you did your jobs and didn’t fuck up,” Heather said “Well, except for almost shooting us when that thing came out of the shipping container. But that’s our own fault for letting you have a gun. Anyway, you guys can do whatever you want now. Though I’m not sure you’re gonna like what Missy choses to do tonight.”
“Yeah.” Ron smoothed Misty’s hair back. “I know she’s kinda weird and I didn’t even mind her cheating on me. I guess she’s going to do her own thing, huh.”
Heather got that look, like she was going to say something mean, but let it pass.
“She’s on, like, her own path,” Heather said.
“There’s no way we get away with this.” He took another drink.
“Between what the cops found at the Society’s clubhouse and what they’ll find tonight, everybody’s gonna have their hands full,” Heather said.
“I hope so,” I said.
“It’ll be a cover up,” Ron said. “But if they have that much power, then won’t they just hire someone to get us. Someone worse than you?”
“Let ‘em come,” Heather said.
*****
We pulled into Heather’s driveway an hour before dawn. The neighbors must have sensed she was coming, ‘cause they’d battened down their houses like a hurricane was on the way. Ron lurched out of the car and staggered toward the house. I woke up Misty.
“We’re here.” I pushed her toward the house.
Misty saw Heather’s house for the first time. Her mouth dropped open.
“This, is where you live?” Misty was wide awake now, looking around. “You live in the fucking suburbs.”
“It’s awesome, isn’t it?” Heather said. “Wait ‘till you see Lee’s place.”
“Where?” Misty took a closer look at Heather’s neighborhood, drinking in the creepy vibe. “Where does he live?”
“A mansion, downtown,” Heather said.
“Yeah, and I’m not sure it’s a good idea to go back there, ever,” I said. “They were kind of pissed at you, last time.”
“Like I give a fuck what those posers think,” Heather said. “I’m still tight with Lee. That’s all that matters.”
I took a beer from Ron and pushed the front door open. The handle was gone, replaced by a jagged hole. I took out my Beretta. Heather laughed.
“Burglars?” Misty said.
“They’re still here,” Heather said in a sing song voice. “Good.”
I felt a rush of cool air as Heather darted past me into the house.
*****
We found the intruders in the basement. They didn’t see me coming down the stairs. Heather was already in the basement, but I couldn’t tell where. The thieves struggled to open the black surplus box that Heather used as a sarcophagus. They wore matching gray hoodies and baggy pants.
The bigger thief saw me first. He pulled back his hood and grabbed a pistol gripped shotgun.
“My gun’s bigger, motherfucker,” he said his last words.
Heather drug him into the darkness. I covered the other thief with my Beretta. He held up his hands and looked side to side.
“Jimmy, hey Jimmy. Where you at?” He looked up at me. “Did y’all see that?”
The only answer he got was a thumping, scraping sound.
“Ain’t this your house, fucker?” the thief said. “The fuck was that? Y’all got a dog or something? Call it off, man.”
“You guys fucked up.” I heard Heather’s footsteps. He didn’t. “Why the fuck did you choose this house?” Orange eyes flashed right behind the thief. “Too late, doesn’t matter anymore.”
Heather stepped into the light, face covered in blood. Her claws dripped on the wood floors.
“Jesus Christ.” The thief made a half-assed attempt at crossing himself. “Shoot that bitch, before she gets us too.”
He swung his crowbar. Heather seized his head like a basketball, her claws extending past the thief’s quivering mouth.
“Night, night,” she said, through a mouthful of blood. “You’ll be of use
later.” The thief fell next to the sarcophagus. “We really need to throw that thing away.”
“I’ll make a note of it,” I said.
“Where are the kids?” she said.
“I bet they finally ran off,” I said.
“They’re not that smart,” she said.
I ran back upstairs and found Misty and Ron marveling at Heather’s vintage multimedia collection. Ron pretended to throw one of the laserdiscs like a Frisbee. They both laughed.
“Did you guys find anything down there?” Misty said.
“Oh yeah,” I said. “Put that shit back, exactly where you found it, and come downstairs.”
*****
Candles lit the basement. Heather had been busy. The unconscious thief lay in a circle of black candles, chained to a steel ring that was mounted to the floor. Seventies style, doom metal played on Heather’s archaic, complicated stereo system. The first thief’s blood still covered the floor. Ron and Misty hid behind me.
“How’d she set this up so quick?” I said.
Heather appeared behind us. She’d cleaned up. Her hair was combed back, still wet. She wore a black silk robe with red dragons printed on the sides and nothing else.
“It’s time,” she said to Misty.
Heather walked past us into the uneven circle of candles. Misty looked to me, then Ron. Ron took her hand. She stepped forward, her hand pulling loose from Ron’s. Misty paused at the edge of the circle and shed her scorched, gasoline fouled clothes. Heather took her place at the center of the circle while Misty struggled with her faded pink boots.
Misty padded, naked, into the circle. She looked back one last time as a human. The thief twitched. Misty bit her lower lip and ran her hands over her small breasts and well defined abs. Heather looked at me and shrugged. She held out her hand, fingers tipped with three inch white claws. I wondered how she changed the claw’s colors. Misty took Heather’s hand, eyes glassed, completely enthralled. She was more than willing. Heather didn’t need her sledgehammer crude control.
They embraced. I could feel some kind of chemistry between them. It just wasn’t the kind of chemistry Misty expected. She moaned softly as Heather explored her body. Her claws left scratches across Misty’s pale skin.
Heather loomed, wolf-like over Misty’s shoulder, her eyes reflecting candlelight. I sat down on the plastic sarcophagus and opened a beer. Ron opened his mouth to say something. I pulled him back and offered him a can. He shrugged and whispered, “fuck it.”
Misty screamed. Heather’s teeth sliced into her throat. She greedily swallowed the blood as it pumped out of Misty’s neck. It made me think of the way I’d seen professional alcoholics drink, just swallowing whole glasses without even tasting it. Heather pushed the dying girl back. Blood splattered everywhere. She pulled her sleeve back, which fell irritatingly back into place. Heather growled and let the robe fall off her shoulders. She was stunning, as always. She caressed herself, then opened the top of her right breast with her index claw. Stolen blood dribbled down her pale flesh. Misty stood up and fell against Heather. Running on some kind of instinct, she went right for the blood. Heather hissed as Misty dug her new teeth in and drank greedily. A few seconds later a stiff arm sent Misty to the floor. She lay there shaking and groaning.
“Come, Mike, wake our guest,” Heather said, relishing her own theatrics.
I couldn’t take my eyes off Heather as I walked over. The wound on her breast had already started to heal. I kicked the thief.
“Wake up, chump,” I said.
Heather knelt by Misty and rubbed her shoulders.
“It’ll pass,” she said. “When it does you’re going to be really hungry. It’s all that’s going to matter. Your first meal is right there.” She pointed at the thief, who was trying to stand.
“You may not feed from Mike or Ron, but this bastard is all yours.” Heather patted Misty’s head, the purple dye faded, revealing a rich chestnut brown.
Heather collected her robe but didn’t put it on.
“Hey,” the thief said, “what the fuck is this kinky shit? Naked bitches and blood, what the fuck are you guys into?”
I opened another beer and walked over to the couch. Ron followed.
“Bring the case,” I said.
Ron nodded and grabbed the beer. We left the thief to his fate.
Heather joined us on the couch, wearing jeans and a t-shirt now. She played Roadhouse, on the main TV.
“Let me out of this,” the thief said. “I won’t tell what you did to this girl. Shit, she’s moving. Hey bitch, let me out of these chains.”
The thief started screaming. Heather turned the volume up.
*****
Misty’s first night as a vampire didn’t last long. The rising sun sent her looking for a place to sleep. She curled up with a decorative blanket under the basement stairs. Heather held out a little longer.
“So.” Heather joined us on the couch. She gave Ron a green, steel ammo box. “What are you going to do now?”
“I don’t know. My ex-girlfriend is a vampire and I don’t think I can handle school anymore, not after what I’ve seen. I think I’ll go to Florida. I have a half brother there and there’s lots of sunlight.” He opened the box. It was full of hundred dollar bills. “Whoa.”
“You did your job,” Heather said. “It’s your pay.”
“Do you think there’s vampires in Florida?” Ron said.
“There’s been vampires in Florida since the Conquistadors,” Heather said. “They like Miami mostly. Stay away from Dade county and you’ll be fine.”
“Man, I’m really fucking tired,” Ron said. “You mind if I crash here tonight, today, whatever?”
“Go for it,” Heather said.
None of us could sleep right away. Heather disappeared to her resting place after Roadhouse was over. We didn’t even notice.
“You got any smoke?” I wanted to sleep without dreaming of something horrible.
“Oh yeah,” Ron said.
*****
“Well, that kind of sucked.” A groggy Misty woke me up. Her scorched eyebrows had returned. “Can I even be up this early? I can’t find Heather.”
“She’s around,” I said. “You should be fine. I’ve seen Heather out in the sun, so I doubt you’ll burst into flames.”
“Hey Misty,” Ron said, “like your hair.”
“Yeah, I think it fits with the new look I’m gonna go for.” She ran her fingers through her hair. “Sorry about how this all turned out.”
“Don’t worry about it.” He stood up and looked around for his box of money. “I’m going to get going.” He looked at Misty. “I’m heading to Florida.”
“Cool,” she said. “I’ll hang out here for a while and, you know, learn how to be a vampire. Maybe I’ll go down there sometime. We’ll hang out.”
“Yeah.” Ron kissed her on the lips. I had to hand it to him. He pulled it off without embarrassing himself or making everything painfully awkward. They hugged and he turned to leave.
“Take my car.” I threw him the keys. “Just leave it at the apartment, with the keys in it. Maybe your friends can steal it and burn it.”
“Later guys,” he said.
We waved and Ron was gone. Misty turned back to me, unfazed, ready to unload a burst of questions. Heather materialized behind her. She held a finger to her lips. Misty’s eyebrows rose, too late. Heather grabbed her neck.
“What the fuck?” Misty pulled loose.
“You’ll have to be quicker than that,” Heather said. “Karla or some other fucker will like, waste you, if you don’t look out.”
“OK.” Misty rubbed her neck.
Misty took a halfway serious swipe at Heather with her new claws. They sparred for a few seconds. Then the phone rang.
“That’s weird,” I said, wondering who would be calling Heather.
“Yeah it is,” Heather said, “’cause that phone ain’t plugged in.”
We all stared at the dusty, forgotten
land-line phone. The jarring ring tone seemed loud enough to be heard down the street. I could imagine Heather’s neighbors, hunkered down in their houses, wondering what was coming next.
“Why not?” I reached over and picked up the phone. The Nineties style keypad glowed red.
“Hello,” I said.
“Hello hunter.” Marcello’s voice came through the dead phone line loud and clear. “It seems your mission was a success. The fools are no more, which means you must have my book.”
“Yeah, we have the book,” I said.
Heather cocked her head and said, “Marcello? No fuckin’ way.”
“The news media is claiming that the Society of Ancient Wisdom was killed in a tragic fire. How did they really meet their end?” Marcello said.
“You don’t know, eh,” I said. “We locked them in a storage container and burned them alive.”
“How wonderful,” he said. “I must confess, I had not imagined that you would use fire. You must tell me all about it, in person of course. Be sure that no harm comes to my book during your travels. I shall expect you within the week.”
I tossed the dead phone on the couch.
“We’re going on another road trip,” I said. “Marcello wants his book.”
“Fine, let’s get it over with,” Heather said. “We’ll take one of my cars.”
“Can I come with?” Misty said.
“Sure, why not?” Heather said.
The End
