by Robert Bevan
“EXUM SOLIDUM,” it said. “CARAAAD.”
Bucky leveled the bat at the beast. “I don’t know what Eurotrash shit you’re speaking at me, you colossal freak, but this is America!”
“ZAAAAABOR.”
Bucky raised the bat above his head. “This is for my momma’s sofa bed, you fuck!” He charged and swung with all his might. The bat deflected harmlessly off the giant insect and spun out of his hands, rebounded from the ceiling, then smacked Floyd in the shins.
“Garrgh you son of a shit whore!”
Bucky didn't have time to address Floyd’s concerns. He stared into the face of the cockroach beast, seeing his terrified expression reflected a dozen times over in the gleam of multifaceted eyes.
“EXUM,” the thing said, and with an almost casual extension of its legs, it sent Bucky flying across the trailer and skidding into the bathroom.
Bucky lay on the floor a moment, trying to process what had just happened. A low mewling sound escaped from his throat of its own accord. He could hear Floyd’s voice, but it sounded like it was coming from far away.
“Now…easy now, big fella.”
How the fuck am I in the bathroom? Bucky thought. He struggled into a sitting position, and eventually, his vision stopped spinning. He could see that Floyd had his hands out in supplication, and the monster was looking down at him with its unreadable, alien features.
“Now,” Floyd said. “I know you and I didn’t get off to the best of starts. You caught me at a weak moment, and I understand that you probably have complicated feelings about that encounter…”
The cockroach beast hissed a noise that filled the trailer. It took a step forward as Floyd took a step back.
“...you have to understand that a man needs his privacy…”
Another hiss.
His head cleared, Bucky searched around for a weapon. He picked up the shower rail and realized how bent and useless it was. Then he spied a toppled can of LAX body spray. He fumbled quickly in his pants pocket for his new zippo lighter.
“...and there’s nothing unnatural about jerking off in your own bathroom…”
With a primal scream, Bucky leapt to his feet, he flicked his lighter to life and sprayed the LAX across it, creating a short but powerful gush of flame. He ran forward with the makeshift flamethrower held before him like a holy talisman that smelled of date rapist. He shoved it into the beast’s face, resulting in a high pitched scream that grated the ear drums. The cockroach monster sprang through the trailer window, smashing the glass and ripping out the frame as it burst into the outside world. It scuttered away into the woodlands.
Bucky and Floyd stood staring out into the day, gulping in big wet panic breaths.
"That was a fine job of running distraction," said Bucky once he'd caught his breath. "All that whimperin' and pleadin' and shit."
Floyd gave him the finger. "I was just gettin' round to telling him off when you interrupted."
Bucky grinned. "I'm just busting your balls, man. You did fine. That was some Grade-A fuckin' teamwork."
The two exchanged a casual fistbump. Before them, the day remained quiet but for the creaking of crickets, still but for the occasional breeze ruffling the grass.
“So I guess we won?” said Floyd.
“What? Damn thing trashed our trailer and broke our damn window. Some victory. Who’s gonna pay for that shit?”
“We’ll work something out,” said Floyd.
Bucky shook his head slowly. “Uh-uh. I got a better idea.”
Chapter 9
“We can't do this alone,” said Bucky as he shifted into fifth gear. “We're gonna need some professional help if we aim to catch that thing.”
“Catch it?” Floyd was sitting almost sideways in his seat, his ass over near the passenger door. He kept looking back to make sure the creature wasn't following them. “What the hell would we want to catch it for?”
“So we can sell it, of course.”
“Don't nobody in Hell's Titties want a giant fucking cockroach. Lord knows we got enough as it is.”
Bucky glared at Floyd. “That ain't no regular cockroach, and I ain't talkin' about selling it to anyone in Hell's Titties.”
“Who we gonna sell it to then?”
“Fuck if I know,” said Bucky. “Scientists, the government, fuckin' pesticide companies. We'll just sit back and let them bid for that shit. This is our ticket out of Hell's Titties.”
Floyd took a swig from one of the beers they managed to salvage from the refrigerator before fleeing. “I thought that was Texaco.”
“Fuck you, Floyd. You best be thankful I'm cutting you in on this.”
Floyd shifted his attention from behind the car to in front of it. “We going to the cops?”
“Hell no,” said Bucky. “Roger'd shit his khakis if he saw that thing. But keep your bottle low 'til we pass the station.”
“So where we goin' then?”
This was going to be a hard sell. Bucky would need to lead Floyd to the same conclusion he'd come to, no matter how little he liked it. “I think it’s fair to say that we're a little bit out of our element with this. Wouldn't you agree?”
Floyd nodded, then glanced back behind the car.
“So it would behoove us then, would it not, to seek out the advice of individuals wiser than ourselves, right?”
“We goin' back to Rusty's?”
Bucky sighed. “No, we ain't going back to Rusty's. We need someone with knowledge of things beyond our understanding. Knowledge, perhaps, of the... occult.”
“Oh fuck no!” said Floyd. “Pull the goddamn car over. I'd rather go back and hang out with the fuckin' cockroach monster.”
“Will you just chill the fuck out and pull your panties out your pussy? This shit is bigger than your hang-up over a girl you dated fifteen fuckin' years ago.”
“She broke my heart, Bucky.” Floyd faced forward in his seat and stared despondently out the window. He truly was more concerned with having to face Roslin again than he'd been about fighting a seven-foot-tall talking cockroach.
After five more minutes of silent driving, Bucky pulled the Continental into the parking lot that Rainn E. Day Books shared with its neighbors, Bubba's Liquor and Discount Tobacco, Tee Baggins Adult Novelties, and the remains of a Little Caesars which had closed down a few years back.
Business must have been doing okay at the bookstore because Bucky had to park in front of the abandoned Little Caesars.
“I know you're emotional right now,” said Bucky as they got out of the car. “So how about you let me do all the talking?”
Floyd didn't respond. Bucky didn't like to see him like this, but under the circumstances, he'd welcome whatever small blessings he could get.
There wasn't much light inside, but the door opened when Bucky pushed it, jingling a bell to announce their arrival. The store was empty, the cashier’s desk deserted but for piles of mismatched books. The overstuffed shelves seemed to turn in on each other, making the place seem somehow larger than it was. The smell like incense and weed triggered an annoyed look on Floyd's face. Roslin obviously did business with a competitor of theirs.
“Go get the food.” Roslin's voice came from the back of the shop through a beaded curtain.
The next thing to come through the curtain was a real piece of work. Dude was wearing torn black jeans held up by a spiked leather belt, a long sleeve black t-shirt with an image that Bucky couldn't recognize, and black leather Gestapo boots. The hair on the left side of his head had been shaved off, and the hair on the other side was died blue. He had pierced ears, a pierced nose, and pierced lips, like he'd just lost a goddamn staple gun fight. Obviously one of those weirdos from East Titty.
He had a hand full of cash and a confused look on his face when he saw Bucky and Floyd standing in the entrance.
“Are you guys from the Chinese food place?”
“Do I look fuckin' Chinese to you?” Bucky blurted out before considering that might not be the bes
t way to get the information he needed. “We're here to see Roslin.”
“Who's Roslin?”
Motherfucker's brains must have leaked out through all the holes in his fucking face.
“May we speak with the owner of this establishment?”
Pin Cushion turned back toward the curtain. “Rainn, there's some... people here to see you.”
Roslin parted the curtain and looked out through mascara-caked eyes. Her once natural black hair was died unnaturally black, in pigtails, and with purple streaks that matched her dress. Like her friend, she had considerably more shit pinned to her face than Bucky remembered her having in high school.
“Jesus Christ,” said Roslin. “What the hell are you two doing here?”
“You know these people?” Pin Cushion might not have meant to sound like a prick, but that was how Bucky interpreted it.
“We go way back.” Bucky very much meant for his tone to out-prick his. “Who the fuck are you?”
Roslin moved in close enough so that she while wasn't exactly between Bucky and Pin Cushion, if either one of them were to try to get up in the other's face, they'd be entering her personal space as well.
“Thorin, this is Bucky and Floyd, acquaintances from high school. Bucky, Floyd, this is Thorin, a friend of mine from college.”
“It's a pleasure to meet you, Bucky.”
“We ain't here for pleasure, Thorin. We have an important matter to discuss with Roslin.” Bucky had hoped that Thorin would take the hint to leave them alone, but it didn't seem to get through to him.
Floyd, who was quieter than Bucky had ever known him to be, looked at Roslin, but couldn't quite bring himself to meet her gaze. “Hello, Roslin,” he muttered.
“My name is Rainn.”
“Since when?” asked Bucky.
“Since five years ago when I had it legally changed. Why the hell do you think the shop is called Rainn E. Day Books?”
Bucky shrugged. “I thought maybe you just didn't know how to spell, but I wasn't gonna say nothin'.”
“What do you want?” Roslin, or Rainn rather, spoke curtly, as if to suggest that Bucky had a very short amount of time to get to the point.
“We need your help.”
“Well I don't know how to hot-wire a pick-up or wrassle a hog, so I don't know how much help I can be to you two gentlemen.”
“This is serious business, Ros– Rainn.”
“I can see that. You got on a clip-on tie.”
Thorin stifled a laugh.
“You think it was easy to come here?” said Bucky. “Floyd 'bout shit himself with anxiety when I told him where we was going. But we're in some serious shit, and we ain't got no one else to –”
The bell jingled behind Bucky. Without even thinking, he whirled around and let his fist fly. Two plastic bags full of food and a skinny Chinese man fell to the floor.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” cried Rainn.
“Jesus Christ, Bucky,” said Floyd. “You just punched a Chinese kid in the face. That's a fuckin' hate crime!”
“I ain't meant it like that. He shouldn't have sneaked up on me like a goddamn ninja.” Everyone was gawking at him. “That wasn't racial. It's a well-known fact that ninjas are Japanese.”
Two more pin-studded freaks came through the curtain from the back room of the bookstore, a young man with a bright-green quiff, and a young woman with thick, black framed glasses.
“What's going – Whoa,” said the man. The woman just gasped. That was all Bucky needed, more of the goddamn Addams Family showing up. If any two of these assholes ever started making out with one another, you'd need a pair of bolt cutters to get their faces apart.
But Bucky had more immediate concerns. He helped the Chinese food delivery man to his feet and gripped him by the shoulders. Looking into his confused eyes, he spoke slowly and clearly. “Are you okay, sir?”
“Fuck you,” responded the delivery man.
“Okay, he's good.” Bucky opened his wallet and found that he only had seven dollars. “Floyd, you got any money?”
“I got some.”
“Well hand it over.”
“Bucky,” said Floyd. “This was reserved for... business expenses.”
“I will pay you back. We got bigger shit to deal with right now.”
“Fine.” Floyd took a folded lump of bills out of his pocket and handed it to Bucky, who then slapped it into the Chinese man’s hand without even counting it.
“I'm sorry about your face. Go get some acupuncture. Sort that shit out.”
The deliveryman flipped through a few of the bills and nodded.
Getting a glimpse at how many fives and tens there were, Bucky thought that he had perhaps overpaid. But it was too late to take it back now.
“Thank you very much, sir,” said the deliveryman with a slight bow. “It was a pleasure doing business with you. Enjoy your meal.”
Bucky waited for the door to close before he spoke. “All right, now –”
“You two had better get your asses out of my store before I call the police,” said Rainn.
“Oh Jesus,” said Bucky. “In the state of mind I'm in right now, I can't handle any more fuckin' Roger.”
“I'm gonna give you to the count of three.”
“Come on, Rainn. I paid for your dinner.” Bucky gestured to the bags of Chinese food on the floor. “The least you could do is hear us out.”
Rainn crossed her arms and glared at him. “Fine. What is it?”
“You mind if we talk in private?” asked Bucky. “I mean, without all the carnies.” In reaction to the looks they gave him, he added, “No offense.”
“My friends and I are starving. We're going to go in the back and eat our dinner. If you've got something to say, you can say it to all of us. Otherwise, don't let the door hit your ass on the way out.”
“Fine.” Bucky and Floyd picked the Chinese food up off the floor and followed the freak show into the back room of the shop.
Naturally, it was all blacklights and goth posters and furniture picked up off the street. Thorin was quick to sit next to the girl with the thick-framed glasses, so Bucky and Floyd set the bags down on the table in the center, and sat down on the only two empty seats, on either side of the guy with the snot-coloured hair.
Rainn seemed to lighten up once she had half an eggroll in her belly. “So what's got you two good ol' boys all riled up?”
Bucky leaned forward. “You ever heard the name Zabor?”
Thorin nearly choked on his rice while the rest of the group snickered.
Rainn smiled and shook her head. “What have you boys been up to?”
“What's so goddamn funny?” asked Floyd. He was uncomfortable enough as it was without Rainn and her freakshow friends having a laugh at his expense.
“You know the local legend. Body dripping red and gold. Reawaken gods of old?”
Bucky and Floyd glanced at each other quizzically, then back at Rainn.
“Come on, guys. You can't be serious. Horny teenagers have been having Zabor parties when their parents are out of town for generations. It’s, like, a right of passage in Hell's Titties.”
Bucky cleared his throat. “I'm afraid we've never been to one of these parties.”
“You didn't miss anything,” said the guy with the quiff. “It's one of those things that seems like a great idea when you're seventeen and pumped full of booze, drugs, and hormones. But looking back, it's kind of gross.”
The girl with the thick-rimmed glasses looked at Bucky and spoke seriously. “And if you got an email or something inviting you to one, you just delete that shit and forget you ever saw it. That's almost certainly one of those To Catch a Predator kind of things.” She reached out a slender pale arm to Bucky. “We haven't been properly introduced. I'm Zelda.”
Bucky shook her hand. “Like the game?”
“Yeah. My dad's a huge nerd. Who would have guessed, right?”
Zelda seemed like a nice enough girl, and Bucky
might one day enjoy sharing a pleasant conversation with her, but he had to keep his mind focused at present. “About this Zabor situation, I think maybe we're talking about two different things,” said Bucky. “The Zabor I'm referring to is –”
“A demon,” said Rainn.
Bucky shrugged and nodded. “I suppose that's a possibility.”
“It's a pretext,” said Thorin. “They light some candles and pretend they’re going to summon a demon, but it's just an excuse to get all horned up and wank all over each other.”
Bucky frowned. “Is this what I missed out on by dropping out of high school?”
Zelda slurped up a noodle and smiled at him over the thick rims of her glasses. “Who knows? You might still get a chance to try.”
Bucky suddenly found himself unbothered by all the metal shit in her face. Once again, he had to force himself to focus. “About the demon...”
“There is no demon,” said Thorin in an agitated tone. He clearly had a thing for Zelda.
“You don't know that, Thorin,” said Green Quiff.
“How many Zabor parties have you all been to, Mark?”
“My fair share,” said Mark.
“Quite a few,” said Rainn.
Thorin sat back looking satisfied. “And how many demons have you seen summoned?”
Mark washed down a mouthful of chicken and rice with a swig of beer. “I've not been to anywhere they actually followed the ritual. It's like you said before. Just a bunch of horny kids who want an excuse to jizz all over some girl's tits.”
“Hang on,” said Floyd. He glared at Rainn and poked his thumb toward Mark. “Did you let this guy jizz on your titties?”
“That's none of your goddamn business, Floyd.”
“You wouldn't even let me go to third base!”
“We were fourteen!”
“HEY!” shouted Bucky. “Everybody just shut the fuck up for a second. What's the rest of this ritual you was talking about?”
