by AnonYMous
‘Yeah. I heard you know JD. Me and him are old friends. Is he around?’
‘He doesn’t live here.’
‘Know where I can find him?’
Beth was unsure how to answer the question. Was JD in some kind of trouble with this guy? Would it be foolish to admit that he was coming to pick her up in an hour’s time? A few awkward seconds passed while she pondered her answer. Before she stammered out her latest “umm” a voice from down the hall answered for her.
‘I’m right here.’ It was JD. He had come up the stairs the same way Silvinho had and was now walking down the corridor towards them.
Silvinho let go of Beth’s hand and spun around to face him. ‘You’re JD?’ he asked.
‘Yeah. Who are you? And what the fuck is that on your head?’
Silvinho arched his shoulders back as JD approached. The man’s attempt at a pleasant aura had gone. He had taken on an aggressive stance. ‘What’s JD stand for?’ he asked.
‘Mind your own business.’
‘Does your girlfriend here know your face is all over the news?’
JD walked up to Silvinho and stopped two yards in front of him. Then he spoke in a gravelly tone that Beth had not heard from him before. ‘Who sent you?’ he growled.
‘Bull.’
‘Bullshit.’
‘No, Bull Thompson actually.’
Something about the name Bull Thompson set both men off. Silvinho stepped forward and lunged at JD’s face. Beth watched on in shock as JD ducked out of the way and responded by swinging a punch straight into Silvinho’s midriff. The big man took the blow in his stride, throwing a punch of his own that crashed down hard on top of JD’s head. The blow threw JD off balance and he staggered back, almost losing his footing.
Beth screamed. ‘STOP IT!’
Neither man seemed to hear her. They both flew at each other. Silvinho was the taller and more muscular of the two. His biceps were huge. As JD hit him with another blow to the ribs, the big hulk grabbed him in a headlock and swung him around, off his feet. He threw JD against the wall. In response JD simply used the wall as a springboard and launched himself back into Silvinho, knocking him into the opposite wall. Silvinho once again grabbed high and wrapped his huge right arm around JD’s neck. He twisted him around and it began to look as if he would close off JD’s windpipe with ease. Beth thought about what to do. She had a baseball bat under the bed in her apartment just in case she ever heard burglars. She had no intention of using it, but if she could just grab it and brandish it in a threatening manner maybe she could make Silvinho leave.
She dashed inside her apartment and raced through the living room and down the hall to her bedroom. The door was closed but she burst through it and dived down onto the floor by her bed. She felt around under the bed until she touched upon the wooden bat. She grabbed it by the narrow end and pulled it out, hauling herself up from the floor immediately. She raced out to the living room again, unsure quite what she would do with the bat once she reached the corridor outside. When she got there she stopped dead in her tracks. The fight was already as good as over.
Silvinho was sat on the floor with his back leaned up against the wall opposite her, his face a bloodied mess. JD stood over him, holding a large bone handled knife with razor sharp edges pointed at his face.
‘Who the fuck sent you?’ he growled at his fallen enemy. Beth felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end when she heard his voice. It dripped with venom.
‘I’m not telling you anything,’ Silvinho, spluttered, blood dribbling from his mouth.
The scene reminded Beth of the time she had been prostrate on the floor with her stepmother standing over her brandishing a knife, with the intent to kill. It sent shivers down her spine. Then JD did something she would never forget. He leaned forward and thrust the knife straight into Silvinho’s throat. Right through his Adam’s apple.
Beth immediately threw up. Her stomach launched itself up towards her lungs as the vomit spewed from her mouth. She dropped to her knees and sprayed sick all over the floor in front of her. The image of the blade entering Silvinho’s throat raced through her mind over and over. How could JD do such a thing? Was this really the same man she had spent the last eighteen years longing for? A cold-blooded killer?
Hauling herself back up, she looked over at him. He was still staring down at the dead body of the man he had just slain, the blade in his hand, both his hands covered in blood.
‘What have you done?’ she spluttered, tasting the sick in her mouth as she spoke. ‘You’ve killed him!’
JD turned around slowly. There was blood on his face as well as his hands. He was taking deep breaths too, his chest heaving. He looked over at her. ‘We’ve gotta get out of here now,’ he said in his new gravelly voice. ‘I’ll explain on the way.’
Beth shook her head in disbelief and stared open mouthed at the dead man in the corridor. ‘You stabbed him,’ she mumbled. ‘You stabbed him in the throat.’ Her voice rose. ‘Why would you do that? He was incapable of defending himself.’
‘You stabbed your stepmother didn’t you?’
Beth swallowed hard, once more tasting vomit. ‘What?’
‘Well you did, didn’t you?’
‘In self defence!’ She suddenly felt very angry at JD. This was not the man she thought she knew. How could he do what he had just done? And not seem to care?
‘I did that for you,’ he said.
‘I didn’t ask you to.’
‘He’d have killed us both.’
‘You don’t know that.’
‘I couldn’t take the chance. He had to die.’
Beth stared again at the corpse of Silvinho. ‘You did that without even blinking,’ she said.
JD nodded. ‘Yeah. Used to be, I coulda killed him with one punch. I made real hard work of that. I’m not a killer any more. This was just self-defence.’
‘Any more? You’ve killed before?’
‘Yeah. It’s a long story.’
‘Who have you killed before?’
JD leaned down and wiped the blood off the blade onto Silvinho’s shirt. ‘Vampires mostly,’ he said. ‘Some werewolves too. A few zombies. And a few people who pissed me off. It’s all in the past now though. I don’t kill any more.’
Beth was astonished at his blasé attitude to the killing. And his confession of other murders seemed to be lacking in any remorse. ‘Why were you killing though? Were you a hitman or something?’
‘No, nothing like that.’
Beth pointed at Silvinho. ‘So why did he say your face was on the news?’ As soon as she asked the question, the answer hit her. ‘Oh my God, you’re…’
‘Not any more.’
‘You’re…’ she couldn’t bring herself to say it out loud.
JD shrugged. ‘Look, don’t overreact,’ he said. ‘But, yeah, I was…’
Beth shook her head. ‘No.’
‘Yeah.’
‘No. You can’t be.’
‘It’s no big deal. I’m not like that any more.’
‘You’re the Bourbon Kid. You killed Bertram Cromwell!’
‘No, I didn’t.’ JD approached her, still brandishing the now clean knife.
Beth raised her baseball bat in self-defence. ‘Where were you this morning? When I woke up and you’d gone out? You said you went out for some fresh air? Where did you go?’
‘I just went for a walk.’
‘Oh my God, you went out to kill Cromwell didn’t you? That’s why you want us to leave town isn’t it? Your face is all over the news. You wanted me to leave with you before I found out who you really were.’
His voice suddenly returned to its usual calmer manner. ‘Beth, put the bat down. Come on, we’ve gotta go. If this guy tracked you down, there’ll be more of them. They’ll find you and kill you.’
She backed away, holding the bat up to keep him at a distance. ‘You’re not the man I thought you were.’ She looked back down at the dead body of Silvinho one las
t time. ‘I don’t think I want to be around you any more. What happens when we have an argument? Are you going to stab me in the throat too?’
‘Come on, don’t be stupid. I would never do anything to hurt you. I’m done with killing. This guy was a one off.’
She took a deep breath. ‘But you attacked him first. He hadn’t done anything to me. He was just asking me where you were?’
JD seemed to lose his patience. ‘Oh come on,’ he snapped. ‘Don’t be so naïve. Look at him. You can tell he’s bad news the minute you lay eyes on him.’
Beth shook her head. ‘Look at yourself,’ she said. His face was covered in spatterings of blood, his hands and shirt too. And he was holding a knife in an aggressive stance. He looked every bit like the mass murderer she had heard about on the news.
Outside, the sound of heavy sleet and snow was suddenly punctuated by the blaring of a police car siren.
JD held out his hand to Beth. ‘Come on. We gotta get outta here. Cops are coming.’
She recoiled in horror. ‘I’m not fleeing from a murder scene again. And certainly not with you. How could you do that?’
He stepped towards her, his hand still outstretched. She backed inside her apartment door. ‘Get away from me. I’m not going anywhere with you.’
‘Fucking cops are coming. We gotta go! Come on!’
Beth shook her head one last time. ‘You’ve ruined everything.’ She reached into the front pocket on her jeans and pulled out the cloth patch he had given her earlier. She threw it onto the floor at his feet. ‘You may as well have that back,’ she said. ‘I wouldn’t want you thinking you had a reason to come back for me. Goodbye, Jack.’
As he looked down at the cloth patch at his feet she stepped back inside her apartment and closed the door in his face.
A second later he banged on the door and yelled through it. ‘Beth, take some time to think this through! Half the cops in this city are vampires and those that aren’t are scumbags. You know that. And you know me.’
‘No I don’t!’
She heard him sigh in frustration, before speaking through the door once more in a calmer voice than before. ‘Listen, I’m gonna go pack up some stuff and be back in an hour. Just like we planned. Take the hour to think things through. My face is all over the news. I have to leave town, with or without you.’
Beth felt tears running down her cheeks. All those years waiting for him to return had been for nothing. Eighteen years had been wasted living in the misguided belief that a guy she had met one night at a Halloween ball was her soul mate. She had been infatuated with a man she knew nothing about. A man that had turned out to be the Bourbon Kid, a renowned serial killer and ruthless murderer of innocent people.
‘Just go, Jack,’ she said, sobbing. ‘And don’t bother coming back in an hour. I won’t change my mind. I don’t want to see you ever again.’
Seventeen
An hour had passed since Flake and Sanchez had toasted Ulrika Price in the locker room below the station. Flake had taken the mysterious Book with No Name back up to reception to hide it in her desk drawer. They had agreed not to tell Dan Harker or anyone else about what had happened. After all, technically they had just murdered Ulrika Price. There were no witnesses and fortunately there was no corpse either. Even so, neither Sanchez nor Flake was willing to have it known around town that they had killed a vampire and particularly one that was quite possibly of fairly high significance in the undead community.
Sanchez had stayed down in the locker room and done his best to mop up all the evidence. If his mopping skills were as good as he believed then none of the other officers would ever find out what had happened. He was well aware that vampires had infiltrated the police force in the past so discretion about the murder of Ulrika was vital. Not that there were many officers still alive by the sound of it. Those that weren’t out on the streets demonstrating that there was still a police presence in the city were up on the higher floors probably filling out paperwork. Mind you, Sanchez had a suspicion that there were free donuts somewhere upstairs and the rest of the force were joyfully tucking into them.
Just as he had finished mopping all the blood and shit out of the elevator, Captain Harker reappeared. He came down to the locker room via the stairs and threw a black bin liner full of clothes at Sanchez. It hit him in the chest and landed on the floor just outside the elevator.
‘That’s your uniform, Sanchez,’ said Harker. ‘You’re an awkward size, so until we get a custom made one for you, that’ll have to do.’
‘Thanks,’ said Sanchez, dreading what he might find in the bag.
Harker stepped into the elevator. ‘You’ve done a great job here,’ he said inspecting the walls for any evidence of the previous night’s bloodshed. When he was satisfied that everything was spotless he pushed Sanchez back out into the locker room. ‘Stick your uniform on and then meet me up at reception,’ he said pressing a button on the elevator keypad. The elevator doors closed behind him and Sanchez was left alone in the locker room with a black bin liner containing his new law enforcement outfit.
He opened the bin liner expecting something completely inferior to what all the other officers had. He was right. It would be inferior to most people, but not to Sanchez. He couldn’t wait to get it on and see how it looked.
It was a beige coloured highway patrol officer’s outfit, complete with a matching Stetson hat and a nightstick. The pants were a bit tight and in danger of ripping up the ass if he bent over too quickly, but they still looked cool. The shirt was equally tight and showed off his man boobs a little more than he would have liked, but with the Highway Patrol badge on the right breast pocket it looked awesome. The hat fitted snugly on his head, which was pleasing, but the best part of the outfit was undoubtedly the pair of mirrored sunglasses. Even though he was indoors and it was overcast and snowing outside, Sanchez was keeping those beauties on at all times.
After strutting up and down the locker room for a few minutes quoting lines from Dirty Harry he called the elevator down and stepped inside. As the elevator headed back up to the ground floor he checked out his reflection in its mirrored back wall. He looked the business all right.
When the elevator doors parted he saw that he wasn’t the only one with a new uniform. Flake had her back to him and was bending over the reception desk, reaching for something. She was now dressed in a standard blue cop uniform. Tight fitting it was too, but in a good way. It certainly fitted better than the outfit Sanchez was wearing. In fact with her ass up in the air it suddenly became clear to him that she was in fact in extremely good shape. Great legs, great ass. In fact, tidy all over.
He strutted out of the elevator towards her tapping his nightstick against his leg as he walked. It alerted Flake to his presence and she turned around, kicking shut the bottom drawer on her desk with the heel of the black boot on her right foot.
‘Look at you!’ she said smiling. ‘You look like Poncharello from that TV show. What’s it called?’
‘CHiPs!’
‘That’s it. You’re a dead ringer for Erik Estrada!’
Sanchez shrugged. ‘I know. And you look like Heather Locklear when she was in T.J. Hooker.’
Flake’s face lit up. ‘You think?’
‘Yeah. That waitress outfit you wear normally wasn’t doing you justice. You look hot!’
The compliment obviously went down well because Flake’s face lit up. ‘You know,’ she said dryly, ‘because you’re wearing those shades, I can’t tell if you’re kidding or not.’
‘That’s why I’m keepin’ ’em on.’
It suddenly dawned on him that they were flirting. How had this happened? Flake was quite fit (particularly now she had on the uniform), so why was she flirting with him? Fit women never did that unless they wanted free drinks in the Tapioca. Odd. He’d definitely have to keep a close eye on her, he decided. Particularly her ass.
As if she suspected he’d be wondering about the whereabouts of The Book With No Name, Flak
e kicked the bottom drawer of her desk. ‘The book’s in there,’ she said. ‘I’m going to ask around later to see if there’s any vampire folklore about magic books or anything. I’ll also try an Internet search to see if I can find out who wrote it.’
‘Good luck with that,’ said Sanchez. ‘I think you’ll have more chance of finding out who wrote the Bible.’
‘Worth a try though,’ said Flake.
Sanchez barely heard her. Something else had grabbed his attention. Something far more important. Someone had just walked into the station through the glass doors at the front. It was a lady he recognised. The woman of his dreams.
Jessica.
She was wearing a black catsuit and she looked as hot as ever. Her dark hair positively shone and her milky white skin looked as soft as silk. Sanchez had feared he might never see her again ever since she had gone missing from his spare room above the Tapioca. He’d had her safely tucked away up there for months while he had nursed her back to health. But then she’d just recently come out of a coma, only to then vanish while he was out shopping. It really was a relief to see her alive again. And he was particularly pleased that she’d turned up while he was wearing a super cool highway patrolman’s outfit. If he could get himself a motorbike too, he’d be irresistible to any woman.
‘Jessica,’ he said strolling nonchalantly towards her. ‘Where have you been? I was worried. Thought you might have been shot by the Bourbon Kid again.’
She obviously hadn’t recognised him straight away, but he could sense that she recognised his voice. And she smiled too. A good sign. She walked up to him with her usual sexy swagger.
‘Well, hello there Paunch-a-rello,’ she said patting his stomach. ‘How’s tricks?’
‘Great,’ said Sanchez. ‘How’s your memory today? Have you got amnesia again? Because you should know, we’ve become quite close.’
She smiled. ‘My memory is just fine. How could I forget you, Sanchez? After all you’ve done for me?’
This was a great sign. Chances were high she was single again. Her previous lover Jefe had been killed the same day she had slipped into her latest coma, so finally, the timing might be just right for a romance with Sanchez.