Chance in Hell

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Chance in Hell Page 3

by PATRICK KAMPMAN


  Here it came—the part where she made a joke, then ate my brains. “Sure,” I croaked.

  “What happened to your face?”

  “Lacey!”

  “What? Look at him! You can’t say you weren’t wondering…”

  “Still!”

  “It’s okay. Someone ran into me in a parking lot earlier. I fell down and went boom.”

  Lacey cringed. “Looks painful.”

  “Not as bad as you think.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. Didn’t hurt at all, actually.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Wow.”

  “I was knocked unconscious first.”

  “Oh.”

  “So what do you do?” asked Megan. “Are you in school?”

  “Yeah—about to start my senior year, majoring in physical education.”

  “Cool!” she said, like she genuinely meant it. “I used to have a crush on my seventh grade gym teacher. His name was Mr. Marks.” She frowned up at me, getting a little closer. “He looked a little like you.”

  That was bordering on too much information, though it told me she couldn’t be too old if she had gym class. Or she could be lying. “So, uh, you guys seem a little dressed up for this place.”

  “Yeah, no kidding.” Lacey glared at Megan. “First time she agrees to go out in a week and where do we end up?”

  “What? I like it here,” said Megan, her voice rising defensively.

  Lacey looked at me for help, so I lamely obliged. “Well, she’s right. I mean, this place is kind of… Well, okay, it’s more like you’re kind of… Well, you’re…” I looked at Megan, groping for the right words.

  “What?” said Megan.

  “Out of its league.”

  “Aw,” said Megan. Her smile made me feel a little weak.

  “We’re just here because she’s stalking Gregory.”

  “Who?” I asked, thrown a bit. I couldn’t believe she just admitted that they were hunting someone.

  “The guy over there.” Lacey indicated the vampire couple at the table, the ones who had passed me earlier.

  “Oh, hey, I actually remembered it tonight!” said Megan.

  I was confused. Lacey saw my look and explained, “She has random unrelated thoughts. Happens all the time. You get used to it.”

  Megan reached into her small purse and pulled out a phone. It was one of the latest trendy models, more of a small computer than a phone, really. It was certainly much more hip than the “free with two years of service” model I had lost. She handed it to me.

  Now I was just confused. If this was part of her plan to get me alone and drain me dry, it was seriously flawed. Of course, standing next to a vampire and a … something else… was going to make this call spectacularly awkward.

  Chapter 4

  I managed to extract myself from the two of them, saying I had to call my mom for help. They seemed to understand my embarrassment at having to turn to a parent to bail me out. I walked over to an unpopulated part of the bar, or at least a part of the bar where I wasn’t getting any vampire vibe.

  The first thing I had done after it all went down at the ranch was call my mom’s house. My brother Bryan answered, and I told him what happened. He didn’t believe me, and when I kept insisting that the vampires were real, he just laughed and said that I must have been fucking high. I asked for Mom, but apparently she had gone out with a new guy the night before and still hadn’t come home. Sadly, that was fairly typical.

  I finally gave up trying to convince him of the danger, hoping the vampires wouldn’t be able to discover who I was and come after me or my family. Up until the ranch, I had thought vampires were brainless monsters, but those certainly weren’t brainless. They were smart enough to lay the trap for us. And the one that had just lent me her phone seemed pretty capable of carrying on a conversation.

  I punched in the numbers, knowing that they were going to be captured by the phone. There was nothing I could do about it. I needed to check in.

  Bryan answered on the third ring.

  “Hello?” He sounded uncertain, probably noting the caller ID and trying to remember if he had given his number out to any girls recently, and if so, were they pissed at him. He had that effect on women.

  “Bryan, it’s me—Chance!”

  “Chance? What the fuck! I thought you were dead!” Bryan was seventeen and equated swearing with sounding cool.

  “Yeah, well, I still might be.”

  “I was joking. Vampires? Seriously? Give me a break, bro. So who’s this Megan chick?

  “Huh?” I said.

  “Megan Grant. Caller ID, dude. So, she a vampire?” he asked, chuckling. “She almost done sucking your blood and now she wants mine? Or are you between the sheets, and she lent you her phone so you could call your brother for some tips?”

  Oh, yeah—the chicks loved him. Seriously, they did, which I always found kind of a sad testament to most of the female population. “Yes, she is a vampire, she hasn’t touched my blood, there is no way in hell I’m sleeping with that thing, and she lent me her phone so I could call for gas.”

  “Uh, yeah. Dude, you’re in California. There’s no fucking way I’m bringing you gas.”

  “I know. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

  “She cute?”

  “Bryan, I’m not lying. She’s a vampire. The same type of monster that just killed Robert, and Katy and Gabe and John. I need to make sure you’re okay. They might find out who I am and come looking for me. Or worse, they might come there and hurt you and mom.”

  “But is she cute? ’Cause if so, she can hurt me a little; you know I’m not normally into that kinky stuff, but –”

  “Bryan!” It was almost a yell, and a couple of people turned to look at me.

  “Yeah, sure.” He was getting tired of the joke, so he changed the subject. “So, mom’s still gone, but it’s the weekend, so we probably won’t see her until Sunday night at best. If the killer vamps show up, I’ll just tell ‘em to come back then so they can get a twofer.”

  I sighed, not knowing what else to do. I told him to be careful, then hung up and used the phone’s internet access to locate a local cab company.

  I looked down and noticed the table I was standing next to hadn’t been bussed. I quickly looked around and then, when I thought no one was looking, I palmed the steak knife that sat on a plate of half-eaten chicken-fried steak. The point was rounded, but it was sturdy, and the edge was serrated. It was better than nothing.

  I finished the second call, then walked back to where Lacey and Megan were chatting at the bar.

  “Everything okay?” Megan asked. “You looked a little exasperated on the phone over there.”

  “Yeah. Thanks,” I said, handing her back the phone. “My mom’s not too happy with me. I gotta go meet her. She’s bringing some gas.”

  “You need a ride?”

  “Nah, thanks; my bike’s just down the road.”

  “Okay, good luck.” She looked up at me and I got that strange feeling. An urge like I wanted to give her my number, or ask her for a date or something. Damn vamp compulsion. I didn’t understand why it worked with this one and not all the rest. I steeled my will and nodded to her.

  “Thanks. I’ll see you around.” I had no intention of that being the case.

  “Thanks for the fries!” added Lacey, waving one at me as I turned and left.

  I might actually survive this. I saw the bartender looking my way and I gave him a nod, put a twenty down on the bar to cover the check, and headed toward the door. It took everything I had to keep my pace slow and steady. I wanted to sprint out of there.

  The cool air hit me as I left the bar. The sounds of conversation and Patsy Cline faded as I walked hurriedly toward the convenience store. I figured it was at least two hours’ walk, maybe more in this dark; I’d told the cab company I’d be there in three just to be safe. As it turned out, the walk was shorter th
an I expected.

  I had just passed the bike, still sitting where I left it, when I heard something. A crunch—a broken twig or dry leaves, maybe. I looked around, but there was no moon; the only lights came from the bar and they were fading fast behind me. You don’t realize just how dark it can get until you’re alone in the woods at night. I think it’s actually darker when you’re sure something is coming for you.

  My night vision was pretty good, but I couldn’t see anyone. I was struggling just to make sure I didn’t trip over anything on the side of the road. I quickened my pace, looking around me. Then came that feeling, and the cold rush of adrenaline as I realized it was the same guy that had been after me all day. He was somewhere close.

  I could just make out the shape of a large SUV parked on the other side of the road, about 50 yards down. My first thought was that it was a cop pulling over to check out the abandoned bike and I had a brief sense of relief. But I bit back the urge to call out. There were no lights on in the vehicle, and it was parked just a little too far away to be someone stopping for the bike. I turned toward a sound in the woods to my right. Something came at me like a Mack truck. I tried to dodge out of the way, but it still clipped me, sending me spinning.

  I fell, rolling as soon I hit the ground, getting back on my feet and in a fighting stance quickly. I looked around for my attacker. I could just make out his dark outline as he came at me again. I could see the shadow of his trench coat billowing out behind him: it was definitely the guy from this morning. The one who killed my contact by shoving him through the front of a truck.

  I drew the knife I took from the bar as he came for me. Ducking, I brought it up and into his stomach with all of the force I could muster. Its serrated blade sank in a few inches, but the guy didn’t seem to notice. He reached down, grabbed me around the middle and lifted me up, tuning me upside down in a bear hug as he began to crush me. Hanging upside down, I stabbed him in the leg, but he didn’t seem to notice that, either. My ribs were going to give soon, so I decided to play dirty and stab him somewhere more personal.

  He let me go and I crashed down on the ground, thinking that I had finally found someplace that hurt the guy. But then I looked up to see that something had jumped on his back and was tearing into his throat with a snarling sound.

  Even with that, the man was still silent; he just bent forward, reached back, ripped whatever it was off his neck, and threw it. The figure managed to spin in the air to face him, but its momentum sent it slamming backwards into a tree. There was a wet, meaty thump as it hung there a foot off the ground. Whatever it was that attacked this thing had just been impaled on a branch.

  I didn’t waste any time. I dove for the back of his legs and tried to hamstring him with the knife. PCP or no, if I severed the tendons in his ankle, it would sure slow him down. He turned as the knife bit into his leg, and his fist slammed down on my head. I stumbled and fell back, seeing stars that weren’t up in the sky. In my last moments of consciousness, I saw the figure that had been skewered on the branch rush back at impossible speed, crashing again into the thing’s back. I just had time to wonder about how it pulled itself from the branch before I blacked out.

  Chapter 5

  The good news was that my head no longer bothered me that much. The bad news was that it was because my ribs hurt far worse. Every time I took a breath, I felt a sharp pain in my chest, forcing me to take shallow breaths. Hopefully they were just bruised.

  I opened up my eyes, looked at the angelic face frowning down above me, and thought I made it to heaven. Then I realized who it was and I quickly reassessed the situation.

  Megan looked concerned. “You okay?”

  I looked around. I was lying on a bed in a pale blue room littered with ornate antique furniture. The room had two doors but, oddly, no windows. I wasn’t wearing a shirt or shoes, but thankfully I still had my pants on, so I was going to die with a little bit of dignity still intact.

  Lacey entered the room holding a pint of ice cream and a spoon. “He’s awake?”

  “Looks like it. How are you feeling?”

  “Hurt.” I looked at Megan. She was wearing the same dress as before, but it looked like she had played a few quarters of tackle football in it. She also seemed… shorter. On a hunch, I rolled over and glanced down from the bed. Yup, she was in bare feet.

  She frowned. “Yeah, that guy did quite a number on you. You seem to get beaten up a lot. Anyway, Lacey patched you up a bit, so you should be okay. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to see a doctor tomorrow.” She put her hand on my shoulder and rolled me back over, then she brushed her hand over the five scars that ran across my shoulder and chest. Her touch was feather light.

  I shrank back at her touch, not wanting to admit to myself that it felt nice. She realized what she was doing and quickly withdrew her hand.

  “Right. I’ll do that. Hopefully someone around here takes my insurance. So, where am I?”

  “My room. We brought you here to patch you up and figure out what’s going on.” Her room? The furniture was period, but the four-poster bed wasn’t very coffin-like. The fact that there were no windows now made a little more sense, though.

  Megan’s concerned look turned to one of annoyance. “So, your mom, huh? She dashing over from Texas with the gas, or does she work at a cab company?”

  “Huh?” Oh, right—she had random unrelated thoughts. “Uh, well, yeah…I didn’t really call my mom.”

  “You don’t say?”

  “Yeah; sorry.”

  She just stared at me.

  “Um, would you believe I didn’t want to bother my mom that late at night?

  “It was 8:30.”

  “Yeah, well, she goes to bed early.”

  “She’s also in Texas, apparently.”

  “It’s two hours later there! 10:30.” I pounced on the time difference, hoping she’d buy the explanation.

  “So anyway,” Megan continued, “the first thing we did after rescuing you was call your mom. But instead we get some dude. I figured maybe he was your brother or something and asked to speak to your mom. He screams, and I quote, ’Holy shit, it’s a vampire!’ then hangs up on me. So I try the next number you called and I get some guy with an accent who says he’s from City Cab and asks me where I was and where I wanted to go.

  “Then my phone rings. I answer it and it’s the first guy calling me back. He’s laughing and says, ’Just kidding, what’s up?’ So I told him I needed to speak with your mom. Imagine my surprise when he tells me that your mom is out for the weekend with some guy. He said he already told you that.

  “Then he asked me if I was your girlfriend. When I said no, he asked me out.” She paused, considering. “You know, I think he would have asked me out even if I had said yes.”

  “Sorry, he’s kind of a tool.”

  She shrugged. “He actually sounded kind of cute. I told him if he was ever in Cali, then sure.”

  “What?” I couldn’t tell if she was joking, but Bryan was enough of an idiot to drive halfway across the country for a date. And I didn’t think he really wanted the kind of date a vamp would be giving him.

  “So is he?” asked Lacey from the doorway, a spoonful of ice cream halfway to her mouth.

  “Is he what?”

  “Cute?”

  It was like déjà vu. “Dude, he’s like 17! And he’s not coming out here for a date with a—” I stopped.

  “With a –?” said Megan.

  I didn’t answer, so Megan switched topics. I noticed her eyes were studying the scars on my arm, scars I had gotten from my first vamp attack back on campus. “I offered you a ride. Why call a cab? I would have taken you to get gas.”

  “Didn’t want to bother you.”

  “Oh, it would have been no bother at all.” Megan sat down on the bed, putting one arm on the other side of me, trapping me against her as she stared down at me. What first struck me was that her makeup was smeared. Most of her lipstick had been wiped off and looked kind of funny. I
glanced quickly at her hand, splayed out on the bed, and saw that her nails were no longer perfectly manicured. The polish was chipped, and one of the nails was actually torn off to the quick. Then I looked back into her face and…

  Damn, she was cute. Even if she did look kind of pissed off at the moment. Then the situation really sank in. Alone, injured on a bed, vamp looming over me. I was so dead. So naturally I came out with, “Your makeup’s all screwed up.”

  She blinked. Lacey laughed.

  “Would you like me to go fix it?” Her voice got this dangerous quality I hadn’t heard before.

  “Nah.” Always recover with a compliment. “You don’t need it. You’re beautiful without it.”

  She blinked again, then frowned, remembering that she was annoyed with me. “So, Chance, mind if I ask you a question?”

  “Does it matter? If I mind?”

  “No. Why didn’t you really take the ride? It would have taken five minutes. Walking there was going to take you a couple of hours.”

  “Um…” I tried to think fast, but I was having issues right now. I just couldn’t think of what I could do to get out of this. I could try to head-butt her. That might buy me enough time to get me out of bed. Maybe. But then I would have Lacey in the doorway, and Megan behind me. I’d be like the blood filling in a vampire Oreo of death.

  “Would it have anything to do with telling your brother I was a vampire?”

  I gave a weak laugh, and even that hurt like hell. I might have cracked a few ribs after all. “I was joking.”

  She just stared at me.

  “Yeah, okay—I didn’t want to get eaten.”

  Lacey actually snorted from the doorway. “I think she’s the one that wants you to eat her.”

  “Lacey, oh my god!” She whirled.

  I was lost for a second.

  “I can’t believe you said that!”

  Then I got it. I glanced over at Lacey who was looking innocent, eating coffee Heath bar crunch.

  Megan quickly stood up, still glaring at the blonde in the doorway. I didn’t know vampires could blush. I guess they did have blood after all; it just wasn’t their own. She turned back to me and cleared her throat, having regained some composure, “Anyway, how did you know what I was?”

 

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