It was tentative at first, but then slowly, all of those in the room began to nod. Even Tom added a quick, “Fuck yeah!”
I let Christy’s words and their support sink in.
In the space of a few short days, my entire world had turned upside down. Magic was back with a vengeance – vampires, too. Sally was stuck in a cocoon, changing into something. Sheila was gone, but my best friend now stood in her place. And that was just the tip of the iceberg.
Ed and Gan were still out there somewhere. He needed to be saved. She needed to be stopped.
But above all else, I considered, stepping to the window and glimpsing the dawn breaking outside, once again I seemed destined to play a part in it all.
Hell, the little nutcase had even said as much.
Who better for fate to choose, my love?
Hah! Mere minutes earlier I’d have said anyone but me.
Now, though...
I stepped back and saw my own face reflected in the pane of glass and, behind me, those of my friends.
Perhaps we all had our parts to play in this bizarre new world we were waking up to. But if so, we’d have each other’s backs. I don’t think any of us had any idea what to expect in the near future, but hearing their support now made it all sound a little less terrifying.
The Strange Days had returned, and this time they might be stranger than ever. Whatever happened next, however, I wouldn’t be facing it alone.
THE END
Bill Ryder will return in
EVERYDAY HORRORS (Bill of the Dead – 2)
Read on for a sneak preview.
BONUS CHAPTER
Everyday Horrors
Bill of the Dead, Part 2
“You’re the only one who can do this,” I muttered to myself as I stepped into my apartment. What a crock of shit. I really needed to stop listening when people went off on an inspirational bullshit monologue. That almost never ended well for me.
I flipped on the light switch, noting the silence and enjoying it. A long shower was just what the doctor ordered, followed by sweeping up the trail of vampire dust I was no doubt tracking in the door.
If this were baseball, two for five would’ve been a good record. Pity that vamp hunting wasn’t nearly as forgiving, not to mention the pay sucked infinitely worse. Speaking of which, I could afford maybe a quick nap when this was all said and done, but that was all. After that, it was back to work. I’d taken a contract to migrate a client’s databases to a new platform. Boring as fuck stuff, but I’d ignored it for the better part of a week so it was time to get my ass in gear before the product manager started bitching.
I stopped in the living room to consider how easy it was to sink back into my old mindset. Here I was thinking about programming when I’d dusted three people tonight ... just barely at that. Mind you, they’d been assholes, so it’s not like I probably should feel too bad about it.
Still, Christy’s words kept repeating in my head that these people were all victims, so they at least deserved a chance before I shanked them.
She was right, of course, but at the same time not everyone handled becoming undead as well as others. The vast majority became drunk on their new power, giving in to their feral side. It was turning out to be much rarer to find those willing to listen to reason.
And what did I do when I did find them? Recruited them into a coven. What a joke. Much as I’d rued the old days with its frat-boy like vamp covens, it turns out there’d been a good reason for it. Only vamps could keep other vamps in check. Without such a system in place, it would only be a matter of time before we either ended up in some 28 Days Later nightmare scenario, or some yahoo called in the National Guard and decided it was open season on anyone, living or not, stupid enough to be out after dark.
I’d worked so hard to bring down the old regime, only to realize I had no other choice but to rebuild it from scratch. Hah. Night Razor was probably looking up from whatever Hell he was frying in and laughing his ass off.
My only hope was to maybe get lucky and get it all running again in a less assholish way. I had no real interest in establishing a system in which younger vamps became little more than playthings to the older, more powerful...
A sound from down below caught my supercharged ears, and I glanced back toward the door. Footsteps were heading up the stairs, quickly at that.
Most of the building’s residents would just barely be getting up for work at this time, much less coming home – barring any walks of shame of course. Ugh, not a pleasant thought. The tenants who lived here were mostly good, hard-working folks, but not a lot of lookers in the bunch.
The footsteps continued up the stairs, their pace increasing. It seemed a fair guess that it wasn’t one of the tenants, at least not from the other apartments.
Despite both me and Christy insisting that he wasn’t even remotely ready for field work, Tom had insisted on going out on patrol. As the new Icon, he sort of had a point. Problem was, he treated the whole thing like the plot to a comic book – the only upside being that he kinda sucked at it so far. To date, his record had been a lot of early AM catcalls with zero vamps actually found. Even so, until he figured out how to control his newfound powers, it was still risky for him to be wandering around the city streets alone late at night.
Of course, Glen had been more than happy to volunteer to keep him company. The little slime-ball was ecstatic to accompany the Icon on patrol, despite being about as adept at it as Tom was. In short, they pretty much wandered the streets together – Glen sticking to the alleyways and gutters since he was the equivalent of a living Jell-O mold – not accomplishing much but also not getting into too much trouble.
So then why the frantic footsteps now?
That question was answered a few moments later as Tom burst through the door, causing my breath to momentarily catch in my throat as I still wasn’t quite used to the fact that he was now inhabiting Sheila’s body. Whenever he came home, I was reminded of an earlier time when she and I...
“Outta the way,” he cried in her voice. “I gotta take a massive piss.”
And then he’d speak and the spell would be broken.
“Um, where’s Glen?” I asked, as he darted past.
“Bringing up the rear. Should be here in a few. Can’t talk, about to blow!”
He raced into the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind him.
Sadly, awesome as vampire senses could be, there were some horrific downsides, too ... such as clearly hearing him pee, followed by a sigh of relief and, “Oh, that is so fucking good.”
I left the door open for Glen, not that he couldn’t ooze beneath it if he wanted to, and headed for the fridge – hoping none of the downstairs neighbors decided to pick that moment to pop their heads out. It was only a matter of time before that happened and when it did ... fucked if I knew.
Despite being moderately well-suited to rounding up vamps, I wasn’t nearly strong enough to compel humans. The only way that was happening was if I was amped up on vamp blood, which sadly was easier said than done these days as there were only two other vampires in existence older than me and they were both currently MIA.
The sound of the toilet flushing caught my ears as I pulled a plastic container from the refrigerator. Pig’s blood. Not my favorite, but workable, even if the folks down at the Asian market charged me extra to buy it by the bucketful no questions asked.
I popped it open and took a sip as Tom stepped out, adjusting the crotch of his pants. “That is so much better,” he said with a sigh, looking at me. “Oh, for Christ’s sake. Put that shit in a cup or something.”
“Nobody told you to look. And you do know that there’s these things called restrooms, right? This isn’t the only toilet in Brooklyn.”
“Dude, I already explained it to you. I don’t know which one to use.”
“I believe the socially acceptable norm these days is to use the restroom of the gender you associate with.”
“Fuck that shit,” he replied
, his voice and mannerisms coming from my former girlfriend’s body – still weird after several weeks. “Guys freak out whenever I do that, and it’s not like I can even use a fucking urinal anymore.”
“Well, you could if you got creative.”
“Bite me, asshole.”
“Alright, then use the ladies’ room.”
“I can’t.”
“Why not?” I asked, stepping out of our kitchen nook. “You go in, do your business, and leave.”
“It’s not that simple.” He fixed me with a stare, the eyes Sheila’s but the semi-crazed expression firmly Tom’s. “First of all, there’s always a line, which sucks balls as it is. But also, chicks know.”
“What do you mean, they know?”
“They do. It’s like women’s intuition or some shit. I thought at first it would be rad as hell stepping freely into the forbidden zone, but it’s not that easy, man. They don’t say anything, but they don’t have to. I can see it in their eyes. It’s like they know I’m an imposter.”
“I’m willing to bet they don’t.”
“Yes, they do. It’s like deep down they have boner sense.”
“Pretty sure that’s not a problem for you anymore.”
He nodded sadly. “Don’t remind me.”
Amusing as it was to give him shit about his lack of junk, something that seemed to annoy him to no end, I changed the subject, despite knowing what I’d hear. “Any luck tonight?”
“With vamps? Not a peep. It’s like they know to fear me.”
“Yeah, uh huh.”
“But we did score big elsewhere.”
“What do you mean by...”
“Bark.”
I spun back toward the sound coming from the door ... and almost shit a brick. “What the fuck?!”
“Isn’t it awesome?” Tom asked.
Awesome wasn’t quite the word that came to mind. Before me stood a large, rather raggedy looking dog. It looked like maybe some kind of Irish Setter mix, but mixed with what? Its coat was a dirty mess, but that was nothing compared to the big bulging eyes staring out of its head, as if they were getting ready to pop right out of its skull.
“Bark”, it repeated, the word sounding disturbingly like it was being spoken.
I glanced back at Tom. “What the hell is that?”
Almost as if in response, the dog-thing opened its mouth, far wider than a normal dog should be able. It then vomited forth a viscous goo – the sludge continuing to pour out, spreading across our entranceway.
Then an even stranger thing happened. Those bulging eyes in its head pulled back in, leaving gaping holes where they’d been, as eyeball after eyeball fell out of its mouth into the rapidly growing pile of slime on the floor.
When it was finally finished, the dog collapsed into a heap, like a deflated balloon, while the eyeballs in the sludge pile all turned my way and blinked.
“Glen?”
“Isn’t it great?” he replied, sounding way too excited for my own personal sanity.
“Yeah,” Tom said, stepping to my side. “We got to discussing about how much it sucked that he has to be all secretive and shit.”
I glanced between him and the dog ... err ... body lying on the floor. “Not really seeing how this fixes any of that?”
“Well, we were talking about finding him a disguise. And I swear, it was like fate was listening, because not even five minutes later we found this dead dog lying in an alleyway.”
I held up a hand. “You do realize that one, that’s gross as fuck, and two, that’s not even remotely inconspicuous. Oh, and did I mention how gross it is?”
“Twice,” Glen replied, his responses bubbling to the surface of his pliable body. “But it’s fine, trust me. It was a minor issue to remove the major organs, and I think after a little bit of practice I’ll...”
“What? Horrify everyone who sees you into a coma? That’s the worst fucking dog disguise since Invader Zim, not to mention it’s disgusting as...”
The phone rang, interrupting what was almost certain to be an extra long rant on my part. All I could do was stare blankly at it for a few moments. It was way too early for the telemarketers to start and I was far too freaked out to process anything else.
It wasn’t until the third ring that I finally snapped out of it.
“You,” I said to Tom. “Close the door before someone sees ... any of this. And you, um, move that thing somewhere else for now, preferably the garbage can.” I picked up the receiver, feeling my left eye beginning to twitch. “Yeah?”
“Oh, thank goodness,” Christy said from the other end. “You weren’t picking up your cell.”
“Sorry,” I replied numbly. “One of the vamps I was chasing after bit it. Need a new screen.” Off to the side, Tom and Glen were conversing over the dog’s body like it was the most normal thing in the world. “Listen, Christy. Can I call you back later, it’s a bit weird here...”
“That’s why I’m calling. You need to get over here. If you leave now, you should be able to make it before the sun rises.”
As much as I was typically in favor of a booty call, the situation in my living room was the poster child for killing the mood. Not to mention, the fact that I’d already said her name aloud meant there was no way I was escaping without Tom in tow.
“Maybe we can catch up later,” I replied. “I need to hop in the shower and there’s a bit of a ... situation here that I need to...”
“It’s not as big as the situation here,” she replied, cutting me off. “Trust me.”
Glancing back at the dead mutt currently serving as the apartment’s doormat, I sincerely doubted that. However, I also wasn’t in favor of ticking her off, and not just because she could blow a hole through me big enough to step through. “Okay, fine. What’s up?”
“It’s Sally,” she replied.
“What about her? Is she okay?”
“It remains to be seen. That cocoon she’s in, it’s starting to crack. I think she’s about to wake up.”
To be continued in...
EVERYDAY HORRORS
BILL OF THE DEAD – Book 2
Coming soon!
AUTHOR’S NOTE
Writing is kind of like being a kid playing with Legos. You build something fabulous, only to knock it all down when you’re done, like Godzilla stomping through Tokyo.
But then, the time comes when you start building all over again.
Truth be told, I’ve been waiting a long time to write this book. I’ve known for years that I’d be coming back to Bill’s world, but I also wanted to take a bit of a break. Ending The Last Coven and then immediately diving into this would have felt like a cheat, as if all the sacrifices made in Tome of Bill had been for nothing.
But now it finally feels right. I’ve heard from readers all across the globe, some who loved the ending I gave them and others who perhaps loved it a bit less. Either way, folks have hopefully had time to come to grips with what came to pass.
So what better than to shake things up again?
I’ll also admit, the fact that the timelines between book and reality match up again, makes me happy. The Tome of Bill covers a span of maybe two years, followed by a five year gap until the events of this book. However, the series itself took about five years to write, followed by a two year break since The Last Coven was released ... bringing Bill’s world and the real world back in sync, which admittedly is something that probably nobody but me cares about. Oh, well. At least my OCD is happy.
Before you ask, I’m not sure how many books this new series will entail, yet anyway, other than to say it will be finite like the previous series was. I’d sooner change things up and start anew again every so often than risk running across any sharks that need jumping. That said, we’re at a new beginning, so it’s a bit premature to start worrying about the end. It’ll get here in due time.
For now, let’s have some fun.
I hope you’ll continue to join me for this new ride through the world of th
e strange, supernatural, and snarky. I’ve said it before, but I have a lot of fun writing these books. I sincerely hope you enjoy reading them as much.
Rick G.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Rick Gualtieri lives alone in central New Jersey with only his wife, three kids, and countless pets to both keep him company and constantly plot against him. When he’s not busy monkey-clicking words, he can typically be found jealously guarding his collection of vintage Transformers from all who would seek to defile them.
Defilers beware!
Rick Gualtieri is the author of several books, including:
THE TOME OF BILL SERIES
Bill the Vampire
Scary Dead Things
The Mourning Woods
Holier Than Thou
Sunset Strip
Goddamned Freaky Monsters
Half A Prayer
The Wicked Dead
Shining Fury
The Last Coven
GET BENT!
Bigfoot Hunters
Devil Hunters
Lycan Moon
Midnite’s Daughter
Sign up for Rick’s Newsletter: www.rickgualtieri.com/newsletter
Strange Days (Bill of the Dead Book 1) Page 34