by Leo Romero
He stepped through the doorway. The air outside was so fresh compared to the house it was almost like breathing for the first time again. He closed his eyes for a second or two and took it in, enjoying the sense of freedom, relieved to be out of the confines of the house. He was nearly in the clear...
He opened his eyes and took a look around, a faint smile now on his face. When he did, the mild euphoria he’d been feeling instantly crashed and burned.
The back yard was a neglected jungle of weeds and grass.
From his position on the porch, he could see nothing but a wall of tall pampas grass. It felt like being in the Land of the Giants. He tiptoed to get a peek at the neighboring yards, only to see similar scenes on both sides; he couldn’t even see where any of the yards ended as the grass was too tall. As a result, he had no idea how far away they stretched.
He huffed. “How the hell am I gonna get through this?” he snapped to himself in a hoarse whisper. “Any ideas, Drake?”
Drake didn’t answer.
The only implement Dom had that could be of any use was that metal stake from Home Depot. He groaned; it would have to do.
He pulled it from his belt, hitched Drake up further on his shoulder, then took the crumbling concrete steps down into the jungle. He stopped and stood ahead of it all; the aroma of grass flooded his nostrils. He breathed in, tightened his grip on the stake, and then began hacking away at the long grass with long strokes. Luckily it was weak; it bent and moved to the sides, creating a big enough space for him to enter. He was like Moses parting the Red Sea; well, maybe not as dramatic, but something like that.
He hacked away at the grass some more before he began making his way into the undergrowth, feeling like some kind of explorer. The grass made a rustling sound as he pushed his way through it. Some of it was getting in his eyes and it tickled his face making him want to sneeze. A bunch of stinging nettles hidden away in there scraped across his hand and he winced at the pain.
Goddamn stuff!
He hacked away more and more grass with angry swipes as he delved deeper and deeper into field of green. In no time, he found himself lost in it all. It tangled and curled all around him and the rug as if trying to eat him. He tried to look back, but he was surrounded; it was like the grass was alive and had closed around him on purpose.
Great! Where the hell am I?
Panic began to take over. He hacked away at the grass with more ferocity, his teeth clenched, as if fighting it off. He was pretty sure that he had gone in a straight line so far, so the back of the garden should be right ahead of him. All he had to do was follow his nose. But the more he cut, the more he hacked and slashed away, there was more grass waiting. And now it was getting itself tangled up with the stake as if it was purposefully trying to snatch it from his grip. Drake was starting to get heavy too and a dull throb was going off in his shoulder.
Man, I’m really earning this bounty! I don’t think I’ll ever be so happy to see my crappy car.
He wished he could be back at his apartment, kicking back with a cold Bud. But instead he was tangled up in grass, weeds and stinging nettles. “I should’ve Google Street-Viewed this mofo first...” he said to himself with regret.
He yanked his arm back, tearing the blades of grass wrapped to it from their roots. He shook them off, freeing himself of them. Now he could go ahead. He hacked away at the grass in front of him, beetles and lice crawling everywhere; going in his ears and mouth. He spat them out in disgust. Something nearby scampered away; a rat, or a cat, or a dog, or some other feral creature that he didn’t wanna cross paths with. He ignored it and carried on. More grass came away. And then more. And then more still.
Arrgh, when does this crap end? Huh? WHEN DOES IT END?
His head started spinning; he had about of dizziness. It was like he was having a flashback. The grass around swayed from side to side like it was dancing. Then he saw it was doing the Hula. The green, green grass of Hell, tangling him up, swallowing him up, its tendrils wrapping around his neck nice and slow and pulling tight. Then he heard the Grassmen speaking. ‘Chill out, man,’ they were telling him. ‘Soak up some rays. Sip on a cocktail or two. We’ll take care of the rest…’
And the grass tightened around his neck some more...
Keep going straight, buddy! a voice erupted in his mind, severing the weird trance he’d just entered. And screw the grass people!
So he did just that. He hacked away at the grass with more force, a groan escaping him every time he swiped his arm around because it was starting to hurt, and Drake was beginning to get heavy.
Goddammned Beauchamp! Sitting on his regal ass, while I’m here, in the freakin jungle!
He threw the stake forward with an angry grunt as if he were a lunging fencer. His arm jarred on something solid, sending a mild shock running up his arm. A twinge of excitement gripped him and he laughed. It was a wall. A wall! He never thought he’d be so happy to find a freakin wall! He frantically cleared the grass ahead of him and soon could see old, dirty-red bricks. He laughed louder. It’s a frickin’ wall. A wall, yeah!
His eyes rolled upward. His joy was abruptly cut short.
The top of the wall was lined with razor wire.
His laughter stopped dead. He stared at the razor wire with a slack jaw. It quickly turned into a grimace of hate. He smashed the wall with the stake, enraged, a jolt of pain jarring up his wrist. He managed to choke a scream, not wanting to draw attention to himself.
How the hell am I gonna get over this now?
What’s going on today? Did I run over a black cat on my way down here or something?
He growled and looked around. All he could see was the Grass People surrounding him. His first thought was to follow the wall along to the next yard, jumping into that and then finding a way out from there. But what if that wall was wired too? a voice piped up in his mind. Or worse? Or what if it was too high to get over? At least this wall was a couple of inches above his head, meaning he could get over it pretty easy, it was just the damn razor wire that was the problem. He tried to look back the way he came, but the Grass People had appeared to move over into the furrow he’d created and covered it back up, thus eliminating his pathway. It was eerie. Like they were alive...
He shivered.
He shook it off. Now there was no clear way back, he was stuck. He faced the wall again.
Why is there goddamn razor wire on this wall, anyway? he asked himself in disbelief.
He hacked at the wall again with the point of his stake, chipping off brick and red dust.
Okay. Okay. Think, Dom. There’s a way out of here, there always is. You would’ve been a dead man a loooong time ago if there wasn’t. He let his mind go blank again, trying his best to focus on a solution, instead of letting the panic rising in his stomach overcome the whole situation. He assessed where he was at. Okay. Wall. Stake. A shitload of grass. Vampire corpse. Rug.
His eyes lit up. He clicked his fingers, nodding his head in unison as the puzzle began to unravel in his mind.
Yeah, yeah, yeah. That’s it, buddy. The rug! It’s pretty thick. If I can lay it over the razor wire, it will flatten the crap out and make it safe to cross.
That’s great, Dom. But what about Drake?
Arrgghh... He grabbed his clammy forehead.
I’ll just have to unwrap him (snug as a bug…), lay the rug out over the wire, throw him over, climb over myself, then pull the rug down, roll him up again (…in a rug) and run like a crazy mofo to the car.
Great. Now stop talking and get going!
He got to work straight away.
He lowered rolled-up-Drake to the ground head (or foot, he didn’t know which anymore) first, leaning him up against the wall; the rug crumpled slightly in the middle but held upright. Now relieved of the pressure, Dom’s shoulder screamed at him; he winced as he grabbed it, twisting his arm around in the socket to get the blood flowing again. While he did that, he watched helplessly as the bend in the middle of the rug
deepened as gravity worked on Drake’s dead weight; it all crashed to the ground, flattening surrounding grass.
Great...
Dom huffed, reached down, grabbed the flapping edge of the rug, and yanked. He instantly strained, a groan shooting out from between his clenched teeth. He managed to pull a bit of rug out from under Drake, but the vamp was acting like a paper weight and was clamping it down. Dom placed one foot on the wall to get a bit more leverage and tugged upward with all his strength, his muscles trembling. Bit by bit, Drake began to spin on the spot like a paper roll spindle as the rug came away from beneath him. Dom now grabbed the rug a little further in and yanked with all his might, all the blood rushing up to his head; it felt like it was about to burst. He pulled some more until there was a soft thud and the rug came away freely; it flopped over Dom’s head, the momentum from his exertion sending him back into the wall. He hit it with a painful thud.
He growled in anger, the rug now over his head. Great plan, Dom, great plan, he scolded himself.
Down by his feet, he could see Drake’s crumpled body; his dead, black eyes were staring at him.
But something was happening and it was happening fast.
He watched in horror as Drake’s face rapidly began to redden in big blotches. In the next instant, the redness became pulsing blisters. They burst, spraying puss all around.
“Jesus Christ,” Dom exclaimed, recoiling. His mind worked. Then, he realized what it was. Daylight. The sun. It was burning and flaking Drake’s skin. In no time, his whole face was dark red and blistered.
Then it caught fire.
Dom’s eyes bulged. “Oh, crap!” he yelped. He threw the rug off his head, bent down and began blowing on Drake’s face. Don’t burn, don’t burn, no, no, no, don’t burn!
If he burnt beyond recognition, Beauchamp wouldn’t have a vamp to identify.
Dom snatched handfuls of nearby grass and flattened it down over Drake. Now, snugly wrapped in grass, he was protected from the effects of the sun. The cool grass killed the flames and the hot sizzling petered off. Dom faced the gray sky; he breathed a sigh of relief, the astringent stench of burnt hair and flesh caught in his nostrils.
Now he knew what the next problem would be: getting Drake over the wall and back into the rug uber fast before he burned. He huffed and turned his attention to the rug once more; it was concertinaed against the wall. He went ahead and grabbed the nearest edge, before throwing it over his head again. He eased it down his back until he reached the far edge; it now trailed behind him like some kind of exaggerated Bride’s train. He steadied himself, eyes fixed on the top of the wall. He lifted his arms as high as they’d go, the edge of the rug still in his grip. He had the rug way higher than the razor wire; now he just had to get it over and down.
Okay, buddy. Let’s do this...
On the count of three, he propelled his arms forward with a grunt, allowing the edge of the rug to fly over the wire. Even though he put all his force into it, the heaviness of the rug coupled with the hindrance of the surrounding grass meant that it didn’t go as far as he’d hoped. The edge he threw forward went a little way beyond the wall, before the next section of the rug got stuck to the razor wire. As a result, the edge he’d thrown was brought down midair. It ended up hanging just over the other side of the wall like a very short tongue. The opposite end of the rug slapped him in the back and stayed where it was. He came out from under the rug and it flopped against the wall. He put his hands on his hips and weighed up the results.
Hmm, not bad. Not great, but not bad... Doable.
Might be better if you doubled it over.
He nodded. Good idea.
He swiped the sweat from his brow before he lifted up this end and threw it in a way that made it fold over itself, doubling it up. He dusted his hands. Nice job.
He’d now created a thicker and heavier barrier that flattened the razor wire further, leaving a clear path for his escape.
He reached up and put his weight on the rug; it went down, but the razor wire didn’t break through. He hoisted himself waist height over the wall. He scanned the area beyond, making sure there were no nasty surprises waiting for him. Once bitten, twice shy and all that. He found himself surveying a thin alleyway littered with trash and old dumpsters; it ran further away into the distance both left and right, ultimately leading around to the front of the house. Opposite him were more brick walls, sans razor wire. Typical, his mind vented. But the most important thing was that the alleyway was quiet and empty. He grinned to himself before dropping back down and dusting his hands. He stepped over to the spot where he’d stashed Drake. He carefully pulled the grass covering him to the sides, conscious of the sun. The awkward position in which Drake fell back pushed his chin into his chest, jutting his jaw up. It now looked like he was grinning.
“Yeah, I bet you’re enjoying watching this from wherever you are now, ain’tcha?” Dom asked him. “But I’ll enjoy it much more when I’m counting them dollars I’m gonna get for your ass, buddy.”
Dom reached down and grabbed the belt of Drake’ robe and yanked it free. He then slipped it underneath both Drake’s armpits, and around his back, creating a lasso. And then it was time to go. Dom dragged Drake from out of the grass and up to the wall as fast as he could. On reaching the wall, he propped Drake’s back up against it. Now exposed to the sun, he began to burn again. Dom let out an agitated huff before he pulled some grass back over him as best he could to block the rays out.
Sun tan lotion; another thing I forgot to bring. Stupid...
I’ll remember for next time.
Dom then turned back to the wall. He was all set. He nodded his head and smiled, his tongue buried in his cheeks.
Almost there. Almost there. I’m not forgetting this day in a hurry, I swear to Christ.
He wiped his hands on his pants and reached up to the rug. He hoisted himself up, hooking his knee and then pushing down on it to lever his other leg up onto the wall. Once there, he stayed low, now squatting on the rug, razor wire either side of him. He took a look back. The derelict house he was just inside stared at him like a beat-up sentry. A sudden feeling of triumph suffused him; it was a sensation of release as if an ongoing nightmare was finally over. He had overcome. Beaten the enemy and made it out.
All right, all right, buddy, he told himself once reality set back in. Hold your horses. You’re not in the clear yet…
It was true.
He still had to get Drake up there with him...
He rolled his eyes. Then looked down to see Drake obscured by grass. “Okay, buddy, let’s go...” he stretched his arms down, just about able to grab hold of the belt he’d wrapped around Drake. He planted his feet down on his haunches, sucked in, and then pulled. His eyes widened in surprise at the strain. Drake stayed where he was. Dom released the tension. “Okay. That’s how you want it, buddy?” he said down to Drake, licking his lips. “Let’s try that again.”
He wrapped the belt around his palms to get better purchase. He puffed up his chest and pulled again, this time with more force. Chords on his neck popped out. His teeth crunched. He yanked harder still, coming back on his heels. Finally, Drake started coming up the wall.
“Come on! Come on!” Dom urged between his clenched teeth.
Drake slid up the wall, his head lolling down. Dom wrapped the excess belt around his hands as Drake came up. He watched him rise in pleasure, even though he was straining. He could feel the blood pulsing in his head. The girdle of his back began to hurt but knew he had to hold on, couldn’t let go, not now as he was halfway there. The last thing he wanted was to go back to square numero uno.
Drake’s arms came up to meet him, then the top of his head. And that was where it started to get difficult. Dom managed to catch a quick breath before he was straining again.
Don’t let go! Whatever you do, don’t let go!
A little more and the bulk of the body would be over the lip of the wall. A sizzling sound started up; Drake was melting
again. Dom groaned.
Never mind that. Just get him over the goddamn wall!
Dom quickly looked behind him. He was on the edge of the wall, with only the width of the rug to maneuver. As Drake came up, he took on more of his weight. With nowhere to shift his weight to other than backward, the sudden realization that he was about to topple hit him like a sledgehammer.
He snapped his head back around. The concrete floor behind him suddenly appeared like a bed of spikes.
Drake came up some more, his weight transferred straight to Dom.
Dom felt his body swerve back in a vicious, ominous arc.
“Oh shit! What have I done?” he snapped in alarm.
But it was too late. Drake came fully up into his arms. The momentum sent Dom reeling. His eyes widened in terror. “Woah!” Drake’s weight pushed against him and they both became airborne. The world flashed by in a second. Before Dom had a chance to scream, he smashed painfully into the concrete below. Pain seared across his back. In the next instant, Drake landed straight on top of him, bouncing off his ribs. “Ow!” He instantly seized up as he took the heavy blow. Drake hit the concrete next to him and became still. Dom curled up in pain, the breath stolen from his chest. He groaned and writhed in agony, the gray sky zoning in and out.
Oh man...
That hurt...
He grabbed his forehead and his chest at the same time. Both ached.
He just wanted to die. Right there and then. To just die. This was the worst day of his life, and he wanted to just die.
Come on, man! Get up! Get up quick before he burns in the sun!
Dom groaned. “Do I have to?”
YES!
He tried his best to roll to the side. He was met with Drake’s red and blistered face. Both his eyebrows and eyelashes had been singed off. But his blank eyes still glared at him. They were like shark’s eyes. Dom cringed. He didn’t like staring so close at them. He caught some of his breath and scrambled to his feet, pain making its own version of love to his body. He limped over Drake and kicked his head back upright. Now Dom was glaring down at him.
