Buffy the Vampire Slayer 1

by John Vorholt;Arthur Byron Cover;Alice Henderson

  Buffy noticed a tattoo on his brawny forearm, but it was so faded that she couldn’t tell what it was. She wondered whether the carny was older than he looked.

  “Let me try,” Willow insisted, cutting in between them. She fixed the carny with her best femme fatale expression, but it was hardly fatal. Nevertheless, the carny was happy to play along, and he flirted brazenly with Willow.

  “No rush, little lady, we’ve got all night. My name is Lonnie.”

  “Pleased to meet you,” she answered cheerfully. “I’m Willow, and this Buffy.” When Willow glanced back to see what Xander was doing, Buffy finally realized what was going on—Willow was trying to get Xander’s attention by flirting with this hunk. Of course, Xander was too busy looking at his watch to care what either one of them was doing.

  “What are the rules?” Willow asked.

  Reluctantly, Lonnie pulled his eyes away from Buffy to his paying customer. “You give me two dollars, and I give you three really sharp darts. You get three chances to win. Break my heart or break any balloon, and you take your choice of anything I’ve got.”

  Willow giggled, and Lonnie motioned around at the posters, most of which were worth about a dollar. “None of them are as pretty as you,” he told Willow, who rolled her eyes but giggled in spite of herself.

  Not a bad deal, Buffy thought. Spend two dollars trying to win a prize worth half that. Most people didn’t win, of course, but even if you lost, you still got Lonnie’s charming company.

  Taking a deep breath as if she were about to run a marathon, Willow hefted the first dart and let it fly. It hit the board, but just barely—near the bottom, far from any balloon. Willow smiled gamely and tried again. This time, her weakly thrown dart hit a balloon and bounced off, without breaking it.

  “Hey!” she said in protest. “Are those trick balloons?”

  Again Lonnie had to tear his eyes away from Buffy. “They’re just regular balloons. Listen, if you miss your last one, I’ll give you one more, on the house.”

  “That’s very decent of you,” Willow said, sounding pleased. She threw her third dart, and it landed perfectly—in the white space between two balloons.

  With a charming smile, Lonnie handed her another dart. “Don’t tell my boss,” he said.

  Willow looked concerned. “Will you get in trouble?”

  Lonnie laughed, and it was a warm, decadent sound. “I was born in trouble. Go ahead and throw.”

  Willow took careful aim and threw the last dart; it sailed over the board and stuck in the canvas at the back of the booth.

  Lonnie immediately turned his full attention to Buffy. “Your turn to break my heart.”

  “No thanks,” Buffy said, knowing full well she could clean him out of his crummy posters. “I’ve reached my tacky wall-hangings quota. Maybe later.”

  “Speaking of later,” Lonnie said, leaning intimately toward her, “meet me back here in half an hour, when I take my break.”

  “Give me a break.” Buffy groaned. “Are all of you trained with the same come-on line?”

  “Huh?” Lonnie asked.

  Willow broke in with nervous laughter. “Don’t listen to her, Lonnie. What were you saying about taking a break?”

  But he wasn’t through with Buffy yet. “Are you shutting me down?” he asked incredulously.

  “Guess it doesn’t happen too often,” Buffy replied, getting ticked. “About as often as somebody wins a prize around here.”

  “Hey, it’s your loss,” Lonnie said. His blue eyes weren’t so merry anymore.

  Buffy started to drag her friend away from the booth, but Lonnie produced three more darts. “Not so fast. I like you, Willow. I want to give you another chance. Have a free play!”

  Willow’s eyes widened with excitement, and she yanked her arm away from Buffy. Never taking her eyes off the handsome carny, she said, “Buffy, you should be nice to Lonnie—he’s giving me a free play.”

  “Yeah,” Buffy muttered. “Why don’t you stick around for his break? I hear it’ll be in half an hour.”

  Buffy turned to look for Xander, but all she saw was the back of his shirt disappearing into the crowd. He was headed in the direction of the dunking machine, and Buffy didn’t think she could catch him. Probably a master vampire couldn’t stop him.

  Willow smiled coyly as she took the darts from Lonnie. The handsome carny shot a glance at Buffy, then put his arm around the slender girl’s shoulders. “Let me show you a technique that never fails.”

  Buffy groaned and started to stalk away, disgusted with her friends. After a few angry strides, she realized that she was really disgusted with herself. Why should Willow and Xander be deprived of a little fun, just because she felt deprived? It wasn’t their fault that she was a Slayer and couldn’t have a normal boyfriend. It wasn’t their fault that on a night ripe with romance, she was all alone. Even around a bunch of people, Buffy always felt alone.

  In every generation, there is a Slayer. Not a bunch of them, just one. She was the freak—even the people who worked this seedy carnival were normal compared to her.

  Buffy stepped out of the circle of neon light and found herself on the outskirts of the carnival. She could still hear the blaring music and smell the greasy food, but she wasn’t part of it anymore. From outside, she could see the weather-beaten trailers, dirty tents, snaking wires, and chugging generators that kept the fake city alive.

  With her senses finally cleared, she had time to think. There was something wiggins about most of the carnies being young and gorgeous. She would deny ever thinking it, but gorgeous people hitting on Xander and Willow was also off the wall. Maybe she was just being paranoid, but it was never far from Buffy’s mind that this unlikely town was located on the Hellmouth. Nasty types were just naturally drawn here.

  While she had a few minutes by herself, Buffy decided to look around. It was dark behind the trailers and tents, but she didn’t need much light to see.

  She wasn’t looking for anything in particular—just looking. Ever since Buffy was a little girl, she had been the type of person who peeked inside people’s medicine chests when she visited their bathrooms. She was naturally curious, and maybe that was all part of who—and what—she was. For a Slayer, it was either be nosy or be dead.

  Ripe smells of rotting fruit and putrid meat twisted her head around, and she saw a row of garbage cans in the shadows behind the fun house. Looking through people’s trash was not something Buffy enjoyed doing, but it was the next best thing when there wasn’t a medicine chest handy. Breathing through her mouth, she walked gingerly toward the dump.

  The trash cans were filled to overflowing, and there was garbage all over the ground as well. Since the carnival had just opened that night, most of this stuff had to belong to the carnival workers themselves, Buffy thought. With the toe of her boot, she kicked through old food wrappers, eggshells, greasy paper towels, rotten fruit, and the usual refuse of society.

  The carnies’ garbage was disgusting but nothing special, and she was about to explore elsewhere when something shiny caught her eye. Buffy kicked a gooey rag off the object and bent down to see a curled strap of red leather with shiny silver studs and a silver buckle. She turned it over and saw metal tags hanging from it.

  It’s a dog collar.

  With a feeling of dread expanding in her stomach like a wad of cotton candy, Buffy picked up the dog collar and read the tags. One tag was a dog license, and the other had a name inscribed on it. The name was Tiger.

  Licking her dry lips, Buffy remembered a few nights back, when the pack of coyotes had snatched a dog named Tiger off her street. How come the poor dog’s collar had ended up here?

  A twig snapped, and Buffy jumped to her feet and whirled around. The grizzled old carny from the Ferris wheel now stood about ten feet away from her, staring at her with pale, rheumy eyes. Again she was sure that she had seen those eyes before somewhere. More troubling was the fact that he had sneaked awfully close to her before she heard him, whi
ch wasn’t typical. She also didn’t like the way he was slapping his heavy wrench against his grimy palm.

  “What are you looking for?” he demanded.

  Buffy held Tiger’s collar behind her back and stuffed it into her belt. His eyes were so familiar. But from where? Buffy gasped as she finally remembered where she had seen the man’s eyes before.

  But that is impossible!

  “Who are you?” he snarled. His pale eyes flashed with anger, and he lifted the wrench as he strode toward her.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Buffy leaped away from the creepy carny, but she didn’t assume her fighting stance. She still wanted to look helpless, if possible. She checked out escape routes from the rear of the carnival, and she saw cars parked nearby.

  “Listen,” she said. “I didn’t mean to cause trouble. Actually, I … I was feeling a little gross from all the rides, and I was looking for a good place to heave. Is this okay? Can I heave right here?”

  The old carny stopped in his tracks. Even the baddest dude didn’t want somebody to hurl all over him. Buffy stared at the man, certain that she had to be mistaken about him. Could he really be the old coyote she had seen on the street a few nights ago? He was staring at her just as that coyote had stared at her, and his eyes were eerily similar.

  But that meant he was a werecoyote, if there was such a thing. Well, Buffy decided, if there were werecoyotes, sooner or later they would end up in Sunnydale.

  He took another step toward her, and she began to gag and bent over. “Look out!” she warned.

  The old carny quickly backed away. “This is not a good place for you to be. Try the Porta Potties at the end of the midway.”

  “Porta Potties,” she said gratefully. “What a good idea.” She staggered back toward the gaudy lights and manic music. “Thanks a lot, Mister … uh—”

  “Hopscotch. The name is Hopscotch.”

  “I’ll remember that,” she said truthfully. If she was right about Hopscotch—that he could turn himself into a coyote—then maybe some of the other carnies were also in the pack. Come to think of it, the carnies acted like a pack, working together to run the rides, games, and food stands. She had to find Xander and Willow before they got too hung up on Rose and Lonnie!

  Buffy ran first to the dunking machine, but there was now a pretty redheaded girl collecting money and handing out softballs. Rose was gone, and Xander was nowhere in sight—so they were probably together, taking the fabled break. The last thing Buffy wanted to do was attract even more attention by asking a lot of questions, so she dashed off to Lonnie’s dart booth.

  The blond hunk was also missing, and so was Willow. Feeling worried and slightly jealous, Buffy wandered down the midway, looking for her friends. They had been such fools—they hadn’t even arranged for a place to meet in case they got split up. And, boy, had they gotten split up.

  After a few minutes of roaming through the swirling lights, pounding music, and laughing teens, Buffy began to relax. Once again, the carnival seemed like nothing but harmless fun on a hot summer’s night. How could she think those cute carnies were werecoyotes? It was a ridiculous leap of faith, even for Buffy.

  For the moment, she decided, she would keep quiet about her suspicions. More than likely, Xander and Willow would be disappointed by their exotic dates, and life would get back to what passed for normal.

  Buffy spotted Cordelia and a few other acquaintances from school. They didn’t have dates either, which made her feel better, and she briefly crashed their group. Cordelia was her usual snotty self, but it felt good not to be alone. Buffy kept her eyes open for Xander and Willow.

  She finally spotted them both, walking happily together and acting as if they were on a date. If only Xander would wake up and smell the garlic, Buffy thought. He couldn’t do any better than Willow, who idolized him. Buffy fantasized that they had been stood up by Rose and Lonnie and had discovered each other on this romantic night.

  She slipped away from Cordelia and her friends and headed them off. “Hey, guys, what’s happening?”

  Xander grinned as if he was the coyote who ate the dog. “We had a great time.”

  “You two?” Buffy asked hopefully.

  “Yeah,” Xander answered with a worldly chuckle. “Me and Rose. I got my kiss.”

  “I had a great time with Lonnie, too,” Willow insisted. “But he had to go back to work.”

  “How tragic,” Buffy said sarcastically.

  “But we’re going to double-date tomorrow,” Willow said.

  “You what!” Buffy exclaimed. “The four of you?”

  “It’s just a lunch date,” Willow replied, “before the carnival opens. They’re going to give us a behind-the-scenes tour.”

  “Maybe you could tag along, like a fifth wheel.” Xander glanced at Willow. “We wouldn’t mind, would we?”

  “Not at all,” she answered cheerfully.

  “Thanks, but I have to trim my toenails,” Buffy muttered. “Willow, could I talk to you for a second?”

  “Sure.” She smiled innocently at Xander, then allowed Buffy to drag her behind a lemonade stand.

  “I know that Xander has no sense when it comes to women,” the Slayer whispered, “but what’s your excuse?”

  “Lonnie was a perfect gentleman,” Willow answered, sounding surprised and a little disappointed. “If I can double-date with Rose and Xander, I can keep my eye on Xander.”

  “Okay, that makes sense,” Buffy said with relief. “But these aren’t choirboys running this place. I want you to be real careful.”

  Willow frowned and put her hands on her narrow hips. “It’s only a date, Buffy. Do I tell you to be careful when you go out on a date?”

  “You could,” Buffy said, “if I ever went out on a date.”

  “But when you hang out with Angel, he’s a lot more dangerous than these people.”

  “That’s debatable.” Buffy took a few deep breaths, knowing that her suspicions would sound crazy to Willow and Xander, even though they had seen a lot of crazy things since meeting her. She had to have more proof than a dog collar in the trash.

  Xander poked his head around the corner of the stand, and he was smirking. “Are you ladies discussing me? I’m very popular with the ladies tonight.”

  Buffy rolled her eyes and bit her tongue. “Xander, I just want you to be way on guard around these people, that’s all.”

  “Ah, jealousy—it’s not pretty, even on you, Buffy,” he said smugly.

  “No, just a use of brain cells.” Buffy sighed, knowing it was pointless to reason with Xander about women. “Listen, your new friends went back to work, so now we can go back to the original agenda—having fun. Are you ready to ride some more rides and eat some food with no nutritional value? I’m getting hungry!”

  Xander looked sheepishly at the ground. “I, um … I spent the rest of my money on games.”

  “Me too,” Willow admitted.

  Buffy tried not to laugh in their faces. “Okay, my treat. But if any more carnies make goo-goo eyes at you, you just keep on walking.”

  “I’m content with Rose,” Xander said blissfully.

  “This is so touching, I’m gonna hurl,” Buffy muttered. “Come on, I smell corn dogs.”

  They went to the front of the lemonade stand and were reading the menu, when Buffy felt eyes on the back of her neck. She turned to see the old carny, Hopscotch, standing across the midway, watching her. She had a feeling he would be watching her for the rest of the night, and whenever she returned to the carnival.

  Well, Buffy decided, the next time he and his friends ventured into the streets of Sunnydale, she would be watching them.

  Much later that Friday night, when Buffy heard the coyotes howl, she was ready. She rolled out of bed fully dressed, wearing binoculars around her neck and her best running shoes. She bounded out the window while the cries of the pack were still fresh on the wind.

  I knew they would be going out tonight, she thought with satisfaction.

/>   After leaping to the ground, Buffy hid behind a tree in her yard. The night sky was full of clouds, but a translucent glow high in the heavens revealed the hiding place of a bright moon. With all the moonlight, she had no problem finding the pack of scruffy canines romping down the street, sniffing about. They didn’t seem to be on the scent of any prey—yet.

  Although they acted as if they owned the streets, word of their last visit must have gotten out. Buffy heard muffled barking, but it sounded as if all the neighborhood dogs were safely ensconced behind locked doors.

  As the coyotes loped farther down the street, Buffy lifted the binoculars to watch them from a distance—she didn’t want to get any closer than necessary. The suburban street looked deserted, except for her, the coyotes, and ghostly wisps of fog.

  The mist was thickest in the low-lying dips in the road, where it was almost impossible to see the coyotes. She hoped the fog wouldn’t get any worse, or her binoculars would be useless.

  Buffy didn’t move from her hiding place until the coyotes loping in the rear were almost out of sight. She dashed down the street, moving from tree to tree and house to house for cover. This was an older suburb with lots of big oaks and sycamores, and she was able to keep hidden. She knew that the wind might carry her scent and alert the coyotes to her presence, but she had no control over that. Luckily, they were running against the wind, looking for the scent of prey, and she was downwind of them.

  For several blocks, she kept the coyotes in view with her binoculars, until one of them gave an excited howl and dashed off. The others gave chase like greyhounds at a dog race, and their yipping was frenzied and excited. They must have found something to hunt! Buffy put her head down and ran as fast as she could to catch up with them.

  As she cautiously rounded the corner of a house, the Slayer saw the pack of coyotes at the end of the block, huddled under a tree. Some of them ran frantically in circles, while others sprang up and down. Most of them sat and stared forlornly into the high branches.