by AnonYMous
‘Which is what?’
‘Jack Daniels. Corny, huh?’
Gaius nodded. ‘Very. We finally know his name but we’ve lost the fucking book. Does anything ever go according to plan around here?’
‘No, but that’s why it’s always good to have a backup plan.’ Jessica leaned down and stroked Beth’s hair. ‘You put too much faith in that book, father. With her as bait we can kill him without having to worry about whether or not his name is in your precious book.’
Gaius walked over to his desk and sighed rather loudly as he sat down in his black leather chair. ‘Jessica my dear, the reason I want The Book of Death isn’t simply to kill the Bourbon Kid. He’s a mere irritation. I could kill him easily with my bare hands. I need that book for far more important matters.’
‘Such as?’
‘Insurance. Once my undead army is established and my plan to conquer the rest of the world is underway, the leaders of the free world will attempt to take us out with nuclear weapons and all kinds of other shit. But once I’ve demonstrated to them that all I have to do is write their names in my book to kill them, those world leaders will soon come around to my way of thinking. I’ll have them all in my back pocket. We’ll be able to waltz on in to any country we wish, uncontested. Our army won’t need to fight anyone, we’ll just travel freely around the world, conquering.’
Jessica looked surprised. ‘Wow, I had no idea you had such big plans. I’m mildly impressed.’
‘As you should be. Right now though, there’s no sign of the book, or Ulrika Price. Which reminds me, I’m going to have to make a stop by the library to kill her at some point.’
Jessica shook her head. ‘See, there you go getting all personal and vengeful again.’
‘Oh, shut up about that. You don’t like Ulrika Price anyway. I thought you’d be glad to see the back of her.’
‘For all we know that bitch might have gotten big ideas and decided to write our names in the book. I’m amazed you trusted her with it, what with you being all paranoid and stuff. Or maybe she sold it and skipped town.’
Gaius could feel himself grinding his teeth in frustration. ‘As I keep saying, it’s imperative that we get The Book of Death back. These are testing times. With all the murders that have just occurred in this city it’s only a matter of time before the rest of the world discovers that Santa Mondega is rife with the undead. The minute the word gets out about us, the governments of the world will start sending armies here. We’ll be blown to bits before we’ve even gotten going. So, yes, great though it is that you’ve kidnapped this woman, it’s nowhere near as important as finding The Book of Death before word gets out about what we’re up to here.’
‘Oh dear,’ Jessica had a troubled look on her face. ‘In that case you’re not going to like this.’
‘Like what?’
‘We’re kind of all over the news already.’
Gaius could feel himself becoming extremely agitated. He ran his right hand back and forth over his smooth bald head. If he’d had any hair he would have been pulling it out about now. ‘What do you mean?’ he snarled.
‘There’s been a piece running on the local news channel for the last hour. It’s picking up steam and causing a fair amount of public outrage.’
Gaius took a deep breath through his mouth and exhaled slowly through his nostrils. ‘What is it? Go on tell me!’
‘There’s a child killer on the loose.’
‘Why should I care about that?’
‘Because it says that the victims were all poisoned and have bites on their necks. There are mutterings that it’s the work of vampires. We haven’t exactly been discreet in recent times, but now that someone’s killing kids, it’s becoming very high profile.’
Gaius slammed his fist down on the desk. ‘For fuck’s sake!’ he yelled. ‘This will fuck up everything. If that story goes national, we’ll have armies from every fucking nation in the world sending troops down here! Who the fuck is doing it?’
‘Well, that’s the other thing, the news flash says that some of the kids who were killed had goat’s hair under their fingernails.’
‘Goat’s hair?’
‘Yeah.’
Gaius sighed. ‘I should have fucking known.’
Jessica reached a hand into her cleavage and pulled out a cell phone that had been concealed within it. She pressed a few buttons, then approached her father’s desk and handed it to him. ‘Just press dial,’ she said.
Gaius snatched the phone from her hand and pressed the dial button. The phone rang twice before it was answered.
‘Hello,’ said a voice on the other end of the line.
‘Well, hello there. This is Rameses Gaius. Is there something you want to tell me?’
There was an uneasy silence on the other end of the phone for a few seconds. Eventually the other person answered. ‘No. I don’t think so.’
Gaius couldn’t contain his rage any longer. ‘YOU’RE ALL OVER THE FUCKING NEWS, YOU IDIOT!’
‘Oh.’
‘Yes, oh. You promised me no more kids. Not while I’m planning world domination. You’ve disobeyed me for the last time!’
‘I’m sorry. I thought I was being discreet.’
‘You’re about as discreet as a fart in a library.’
‘Huh?’
‘For fuck’s sake,’ said Gaius, exasperation evident in his voice. ‘I’m having the day from hell already. The Book of Death has gone missing, the Bourbon Kid is on the loose somewhere, and then on top of that, you’re all over the news for killing kids!’
‘The Book of Death has gone missing?’
‘Yes. Not that it’s really any of your concern.’
The voice on the other end of the line took on a less apologetic tone. ‘I know who has The Book of Death,’ it said. ‘I can get it back for you.’
‘Seriously?’
‘Yeah. But if I get it for you, can I carry on killing kids?’
‘Sure. Who has the book?’
‘Just a local idiot. He’s only a stone’s throw away from me at this very moment. Getting it back will be a piece of cake.’
Twenty-Five
Rick’s day had been a tiring one. With Flake signing up to join the police force, he’d had to close the Ole Au Lait for most of the day, and in trying to find a replacement for her he’d barely had five minutes to himself. According to some stupid local bylaw there was nothing he could do about Flake joining the police force in an emergency either.
When he’d finished all of his extra chores, he locked the front door of the Ole Au Lait behind him and stepped out into the snowy streets once more.
The dark clouds that had been looming over the city for the last twenty-four hours showed no signs of clearing. He hadn’t minded the heavy rain and occasional thunder from the night before. But the non-stop downfall of snow over the course of the day was a real pain in the ass. There sure was some strange shit going on in town. Lots of kids were complaining about a hit and run driver mowing down the snowmen they had built around the streets. There had also been numerous elderly people taken to hospital after slipping and falling over on the icy sidewalks.
As night fell the streets were deserted, which was hardly surprising. It was late, it was dark and above all it was fucking dangerous to be out. In spite of the rumour that a shitload of vampires had been slaughtered on Halloween, Rick still worried that there might be a few lurking around. Thinking about it made him pull the collar on his raincoat up to cover his neck.
His apartment was only a block away from the Ole au Lait, and normally he wouldn’t fear a vampire attack. Any of his customers leaving late in the evening could well expect to become food for the immortals, but being the café’s owner, Rick was generally left alone. If any vampire killed him then his café would close down. In the same way that none of the undead ever touched Sanchez, Rick knew he was safe because they needed the blood of his customers. No Ole Au Lait, no late night coffee drinkers. No Tapioca, slightly less drunken
assholes.
As he turned the corner at the end of the block he almost slipped on a manhole cover that was hidden beneath some black ice. Fortunately no one was around to see him stumble slightly except the drunken tramp dressed as Santa Claus who was lying in a shop doorway on the other side of the road. The tramp looked fast asleep. His white beard had turned a horrible grey colour and the front of his red outfit was stained with rainfall, sleet, specks of snow and no doubt some booze that he would have spilled from a bottle he had resting on his lap in a brown paper bag.
‘Poor old bastard,’ Rick muttered to himself. It had to be desperate times indeed for that particular tramp. It was only November, so the guy had another month to wait before people started to take pity on him and throw some cash his way in the build up to Christmas.
By the time Rick reached his house he was soaked through from the steadily falling snow and chilled to the bone thanks to the icy winds. He hurried down the five concrete steps that led down to his front door below the sidewalk and pulled a set of keys from his pocket. He fumbled for the correct one, his frozen fingers struggling to get a suitable grip on the key he required. When he eventually settled on the right one, he slipped it into the door’s lock and turned it. The door clicked and he pushed it open. The hallway inside looked warm. He stepped inside and onto the brown welcome doormat. The house was much warmer than outside and he placed his hand down onto the radiator on the wall. It was suitably warm, but would no doubt need turning up before the night was through. His shoes were soaked and carrying all kinds of debris on the soles. He rubbed them on the mat and turned to push the door closed behind him. That was when Rick realised he had a visitor. And not a pleasant looking one. He was greeted by the sight of a giant man in red lunging through his front door, his mouth wide open revealing an enormous set of vampire fangs.
‘Shiiiiiiiiiiiit!’
A huge dark dirty hand slammed over Rick’s mouth, silencing any attempt at a cry for help. Rick was now staring right into the crazy black eyes of a vampire dressed as Santa Claus. What had looked like a perfectly helpless drunken tramp only a minute earlier when slumped in a doorway down the road, was now a full blown, bloodsucking maniac. And this motherfucker looked thirsty. The Santa was strong and pushed Rick back into his hallway, keeping its hand pinned over his mouth. Rick’s eyes opened wide as he got a close up look at some thick streaks of blood in his intruder’s bushy grey beard.
The Santa pulled him in close and then hooked a leg around the back of Rick’s knees and pushed him again causing him to fall back on to the hardwood floor. Rick heard the front door slam shut as the Santa kicked it back with one of his heavy black boots.
‘I own the Ole Au Lait,’ Rick spluttered, hoping it would buy him a reprieve.
‘I know you do,’ growled the Santa. ‘That ain’t what’s gonna save you.’
Rick looked up at his tormentor, finally getting a really good look. The Santa was a fearsome looking guy indeed. Behind his dirty grey beard was a blotchy red and purple face. And unless he was wearing fake padding, he was decidedly overweight too. But he had big arms and a head the size of a pumpkin. His red Santa hat was definitely an extra large and the top part of it hung down next to the side of his face.
‘Please,’ said Rick in his most pleading and desperate voice. ‘I’m a good guy, I swear.’
Santa leaned over him. ‘I’ve met lots of children lately who’ve been good all year,’ he said. ‘It didn’t save them and it won’t save you.’
Rick grabbed at the Santa’s beard. This was no way to hurt him though. As he pulled at it, it came away from his attacker’s face. The beard was a fake, made from animal hair and held on by an elastic band wrapped around his ears. It smelled unpleasantly of goat.
‘Please,’ Rick begged in desperation. ‘I’ll give you anything. Just let me go.’
‘You can start by telling me where The Book of Death is.’
‘The Book of Death?’
‘That’s right. You had it this morning. I saw you with it in the Ole Au Lait. Where is it now?’
Rick swallowed hard. ‘I took it back to the library,’ he spluttered as the grey beard brushed against his face.
The Santa leaned down even further, getting his face in close to take a good look at Rick to see if he was telling the truth. The smell of stale booze was overwhelming as the monster breathed over him before finally responding. ‘I went to the library already. They said it was missing.’
‘I didn’t check it in with the librarian. I just stuck it on the shelf in the Reference section.’
‘Why? Why not hand it in to the librarian?’
‘I was returning it for my friend Sanchez. He said he’d borrowed it without permission so I had to stick it back on the shelf myself.’
The Santa slapped Rick around the face. ‘I don’t believe you!’ he snarled.
‘I can take you back there in the morning and show you where I put it.’
The Santa sat down on Rick’s chest, pinning him to the floor. ‘You just said it was in the Reference section. I can find it myself.’
‘Okay, fine. We’re good then, right? You can leave me alone now?’ said Rick, hoping that the situation was resolved.
The Santa reached inside his red jacket and pulled out a brown paper bag. From within it he pulled out a small silver hip flask. He reached down with his spare hand and grabbed Rick’s nose, pinning his nostrils shut and pushing his head down onto the floor. He put the bottle to Rick’s lips. ‘Open wide,’ he said. ‘You’ll like this!’
Rick could feel his lungs gasping for oxygen. Having his nostrils held shut brought on a feeling of helplessness and panic. All he could do was open his mouth and hope to suck in some air. Instead, as he opened his mouth he watched on in terror as the heavy set vampire in the Santa outfit held the bottle over his mouth and poured a small amount of a warm green liquid down his throat. The liquid had a lemony taste to it, not totally unpleasant. Certainly better than some of the piss Rick had been served by Sanchez over the years.
The Santa eventually stopped pouring the green liquid into his mouth and eased his grip on his nose, allowing him to suck in some air. It caused him to cough and choke a little and he felt the taste of the liquid in his throat and nostrils.
To his surprise the Santa stood back up. It relieved the pressure on Rick’s chest for a moment. He took in a deep breath, only to then feel his chest begin to tighten again. A warm sensation came over him. It was a relatively pleasant feeling after the cold wet weather outside and the suffocation incident of a few seconds earlier. However, the warm sensation lasted only momentarily. It was followed by a numbness that swept from his shoulders to his toes in a matter of seconds. He tried to speak, only to find that his mouth and tongue didn’t move to say the words he wanted, which would have been “What’s happening?”
The Santa took off his red hat, revealing a head of thick dark dirty greasy hair. Then he grinned his huge vampire-fanged smile at the stricken coffee shop owner.
‘What you’re experiencing right now is a form of paralysis brought on by what you just drank,’ he said. ‘I want you to lie there and enjoy yourself while I go to work on you. I usually save this stuff for kids, but I’m making you a special case. You’ll feel all the pain as I drain your blood from your veins. You just won’t be able to react to any of it. It should only take a few hours.’ He unleashed an evil smile, then added, ‘Merry Christmas.’
Twenty-Six
Kacy awoke from a very deep sleep. She was naked beneath the covers of a bed in a room she didn’t recognise. She felt hung over too. As the recollection of the previous night’s events came back to her she realised why. After leaving the Tapioca and the Bourbon Kid, she and Dante had headed out in search of some fresh blood. They had found it a lot harder to come by than either of them had expected. Neither of them wanted to murder an innocent person and drink their blood, so after some half-hearted attempts at attacking strangers they had headed back to the Swamp empty handed.
As it turned out they needn’t have worried because Vanity kept fresh bottles of blood behind the bar in the pool hall.
They had arrived at the pool hall to find an after hours drinking club in full swing. Vanity had invited along the other surviving members of the Shades clan and a few other hard drinking vampires. He was a generous host so there were free bottles of a drink named “Bloodweiser” available all night. It was a blood based drink designed to look like Budweiser beer. It hadn’t been anywhere near as satisfying as the blood of Archie Somers, but it had done enough to cure the craving that both Dante and Kacy had.
Kacy had found Vanity to be a pretty reasonable guy and quite a charmer. The guy knew how to throw a party and make the guests feel welcome and he didn’t come across as terrifying in the way she had imagined a vampire to be. But then, she too was a vampire these days and she didn’t consider herself to be a blood crazed lunatic either.
Alongside her in bed, Dante was still sleeping. She got up and showered in the en-suite bathroom without waking him. He’d always been a late riser, particularly after a night of drinking, so she was able to make as much noise as she liked without worrying about him waking.
The bedroom Vanity had given them to share was on the top floor of the Swamp. It had no windows in it, presumably so that any vampire waking up in there in the morning didn’t get an unexpected taste of sunlight for breakfast.
After drying her hair and dressing in a comfy pair of blue jeans and a red sweatshirt, she decided to go see if the snowfall outside had gotten any worse.
She opened the door into the living room and peered around it to see if Vanity was around. He was sitting on a sofa with his back to her watching something on the large television screen on the far wall. Fortunately it wasn’t porn and his pants weren’t around his ankles. He was wearing a crimson coloured dressing gown and a pair of matching slippers, hardly what one might expect from a fearsome vampire. The television was playing a home video of a wedding reception. Kacy loved a good wedding, so she stepped out into the living room and gently closed the door behind her. Vanity obviously heard her because he twisted his neck around sharply.