Blood Donors

by Steve Tasane

  Putrid. I puke. Odour of decay. Keep pukin’.

  Chokin’. Spittin’. Goo all over my hands.

  Shakin’ my head. Clear my ears. Buzz buzz buzz.

  Rotten stench. Pukin’, pukin’ up a foulness.

  Eyes open. Open wide. Look. Look, see.

  Waist-deep in a swamp of old furniture, rugs, snapped twigs.

  Hold out my hands. Green. I see. Intestines?

  Look down. Dog skull grinnin’ up at me.

  Not rugs.

  Cat fur, smeared in grease.

  Claw and fang scattered like confetti among rotten, swollen animal hide. Hair of dog and cat, floatin’ like dust.

  Not bugs. A swarm of flies tryin’ to get into my head. And maggots, everywhere.

  This is a animal abbatoir.

  Now I’m screamin’.

  Mustaph was so wrong.

  I scream like a maniac. Scream like a baby.

  Zillion flies, dartin’ and buzzin’ roun’ my head. Up my nose and in my ears.

  Hearin’ screamin’ and yellin’ from up above.

  Stench like rotten meat and ancient cheese makin’ me heave again. Ain’t got nothin’ left to chuck up. Start tryin’ to climb the walls. Can’t get a grip. Try and wedge myself, legs on one side of the wall, arms on the other. Fall, almost sink back into the decayin’ pets. It look like some of them still alive. Squint down – no, is maggots squirmin’.

  Oh, he was so wrong.

  Scream some more and stop. Irritatin’, waste of time.

  No noise from up above. My friends deserted me.

  I am sinkin’ into a pile of dead dogs, gastric sludge, ruptured gut. Animal hair swirlin’ all roun’, gettin’ up my nose, makin’ me sneeze. Sneeze make me barf. Nothin’ come, jus’ my own fume, mix with odour of decay.

  Buzz buzz.

  A loud CRACK and daylight suddenly dazzlin’ me. A dog bounds forward into the pit, fangs snappin’. My dog. As the tide of dead pets slide out onto the ground outside the shaft, Sabre yelps, turns tail and legs it. I remove my goggles. Sis standin’ there holdin’ a seriously hefty crowbar, lookin’ ill with worry. Mustaph doin’ a dodge-the-dead-dog-avalanche dance.

  Stench hits them and they both sick.

  Sis drop the crowbar. I stagger out. Go to her. She give me a rib-crunchin’ hug. Over her shoulder I see Mustaph scratchin’ his head, tryin’ to work out how his masterplan went so wrong.

  Leftovers

  I’m wrigglin’ out of the boilersuit fast as if I got maggots on the inside of it as well as the out. I feel infested. Suit covered in pet juice. Stink of dead man’s clothes.

  Thought you said the cord wouldn’t snap? I yell at Mustaph.

  It didn’t he say. The handle did.

  And what about the Megas? I’m ragin’ at him. You said the Megas were down here!

  Just a educated guess…

  I leap at him. Educated? You ain’t even been in school all year. What make you think you can make a educated guess?

  I didn’t get no sleep, did I? I was up all night. How can I think clever when I ain’t had no sleep?

  I ain’t had no sleep either. Guess that why I listened to your genius idea.

  OK, let’s calm down a bit say Sis. People beginnin’ to stare.

  Like I care.

  To be fair, it’s myself I’m really mad at. I mean, I listened to Mustaph. What kind of fool idea is that? Megas have instigated a serious feud and we takin’ our lead from brains like Mustaph?

  So here’s me for all the neighbourhood to see, in nothin’ more than my boxers and my trainers, ankle-deep in Fido and Tiddles’s fur coats.

  Sis and Mus can’t hardly believe their eyes. They seein’ a 57 variety of different breeds. Pit bulls to Jack Russells to moggies. We seein’ dog fang and cat fang bared and fierce where the skin of the lips been stretched back by rot. Ginger cat flanks squeezed in next to doggie black and tan, skin and bone. A mass grave of family pets.

  LOST DOG: Jimbob

  Has Anybody Seen Romeo?

  Reward Offered For Return of Missing Tinky

  We been full-time fools. Thank God I always keep Sabretooth close by my side. These bugs been keepin’ their diet nice and stable by chompin’ on family pets, wait until they bred themselves into a massive enough posse before showin’ to us humans. Once they sucked dry, bugs been draggin’ the evidence to the rubbish chute, droppin’ them in.

  Least they throw their rubbish away when they done with it say Mus.

  Sabre is highly aggravated, pawin’ the ground and whinin’, his nose twitchin’ with a hundred horrible smells. I can see in his eyes he actually enraged. Never seen that in my dog before. His nose like he assessin’ information when we walk by a lamppost, find out who been passin’ by. I figure some of these were his friends. He’d of known some of them since he was a pup.

  My dog raises his snout to the heavens, begins to howl.

  We standin’ with our heads down, lettin’ Sabe have his moment.

  They all dead? says Sis.

  All dead.

  Smashed-open hatch at the bottom of the chute looks like a cupboard been stuffed full to overflow, jus’ waitin’ for someone to open up. It been opened up all right.

  Council goin’ to think Finger folk surpassed ourselves this time, dumpin’ all our dead pets down the rubbish chute. They gonna say we less than human, don’ deserve decent places to live.

  I’m oiking phlegm up my throat. I still got a maggot lodged in there, need to drink a gallon of water.

  Clompin’ the side of my head with the palm of my hand, tryin’ to dislodge the last of the flies from my ears. Try and gouge them out with my little finger.

  Come say Sis, let’s get you dressed. You look like you need a lie-down.

  Mustaph standin’ fascinated by the pile of dead pets, dippin’ his toe in, enjoyin’ his curiosity.

  Hey, brains Sis call him, come on, we need to regroup.

  All of a sudden I feel woozy. Gotta go sit down on the kerb before I fall and bash my head. Sis send Mus for some water. Quick as you can!

  He speed off. I stagger to the edge of the kerb, and me and Sis sit.

  What I don’ get say Sis after a moment, is why there be dozens of dead pets down the rubbish chute.

  Come on, Sis, you ain’t no fool.

  She shiver. This is where the Megas dump their leftovers.

  But they bright enough to make sure they hidin’ out elsewhere. This ain’t no help to us.

  Suppose we show somebody? I mean, apart from people in The Finger. Take a dead dog to the council, or police?

  They gonna slam the cuffs on us straight away. ’Member Cat Bin Lady?

  Lady who chucked her cat in a wheelie bin? Was all over the Internet?

  You fancy bein’ the new Cat Bin Lady?

  Mus back from the corner shop, break the world hundred metre record.

  I grab the bottle of water. Down it.

  Clear my throat, wash down the maggot stuck in my windpipe.

  Maybe if we dig aroun’, we can find some proper evidence? he say.

  I grimace at Mustaph, nod at the pile of bodies. Be my guest.

  Look say Sis, I think one of them is still alive.

  Hate to tell you this, but that’s jus’ maggots wigglin’ underneath the skin.

  But Sis on her feet. No. I can see its eyes movin’. Look.

  She is right. It is a little dog, Chiwowow, like WAGS keep in their handbags. This one ain’t lookin’ too happy.

  It’s Romeo say Sis.

  What kind of a name is that for a midget dog?

  Here, boy. Sis shuffle slowly towards it, holdin’ out her finger and thumb like folk do when they approachin’ pets. Romeo looks terrified. But he ain’t goin’ anywhere. He curled up like he bein tryin’ to get a sleep, huddled up with his friends in the nice cosy chute.

  He belong to Chantelle say Sis. Girl live on Mustaph’s floor.

  Romeo look up at Sis, but he ain’t movin’ for her. Dog terrifi
ed, glued to the spot. She bend and pick him up. Reckon the little beast goin’ to nip at her, but he don’ do nothin’.

  Come on, nothin’ more we can do here. Least we can do is get this little fella safely back home. She glance at me. Get you dressed too. You indecent, boy.

  Muskrat rest a hand on my shoulder. Sorry you had to fall in there head first, Marsh. He pauses and adds Was it a buzz?

  Oh yeah I say. You oughta try it sometime.

  Hold up say Sis, takin’ a couple of pics of the scene. Big Auntie goin’ to want to see this.

  We headin’ up towards our flat, give me chance to shower and put on some clothes. Feelin’ down. Megabugs been outwittin’ us.

  If they been growin’ big all summer and now they ready to take over the block, and they ain’t hidin’ down the rubbish chute—

  Then where they been hidin’ out? Sis finish the question for me.

  And we still need help. It pretty clear that The Three Great Detectives ain’t exactly of Sherlock Holmes standard. Compo could do a better job than us.

  On the way up, we pass by His Majesty, skulkin’ roun’ the stairwell, lookin’ as bad-tempered as ever. He the only pet in The Finger badassed enough not to have been taken by the Megas. Ain’t sure he even a pet. Maybe he animal security. He hiss at us, and flash his claws as we pass by, makin’ Sabrebaby whimper and pull in close to my legs.

  We get up to Mus’s floor and Sis hand me the loverdog while she figure which door to knock on, find Chantelle. Mustaph put his hand forward give ol’ Romeo a pat on the head, and say Ooh, nice.

  Now what he seen? He reach forward, grab the pooch’s paws, two in each hand, try and prise them apart like they jammed. Dog got rigor mortis, ain’t even dead.

  When I see what attached to Romeo’s belly I almos’ drop the dog on the spot.

  What the—?

  Sabes gives a low snarl, bares his fangs.

  What attached to Romeo’s belly is three sacks of blood, look like sausage skin.

  As if I hadn’t had enough pukiness for one day, now Romeo gone and got his intestines leakin’ all over my arms.

  ’Cept these intestines be movin’ aroun’, like they alive. They attached to Romeo’s belly fur by tiny snouts. I can see the snouts suckin’ away, and the dog’s blood fillin’ out the head at the top of each snout, each head givin’ a little jerk, like it swallowin’, and the blood disappearin’ into the sack behind it. Bloodsucker don’ even have legs. It jus’ a bloodsack attached by a snoutsucker.

  I look at Romeo’s eyes, but he ain’t lookin’ back. His nights of romance all behind him. Eyes are dead.

  Nymphs Sis declares.

  Nymphs. Bug eggs. Grown heads so they can start sucklin’ on their own.

  Gnarff! Sabre leap up and get his jaws roun’ one of these nymphs, tug it away. He stand there, chompin’ at it, like it sausage fresh from the butcher’s shop. Blood drippin’ down from his muzzle.

  My dog turnin’ cannibal.

  I grab one of the remaining nymphs, pull it off with my hand. It bursts all over, Romeo’s blood leakin’ down my arm.

  Mustaph vomit again, loudly. Thought my pal had stronger stomach than that. I myself find a mos’ disgusted groan makin’ it way out my lips.

  Sis produce her crowbar. Put the dog on the floor.

  I ain’t arguin’.

  She whack the last bloodsack with the crowbar, usin’ excessive force. Hear a splat and a clang both at the same time. Bloodsack burst, poor dead Romeo covered in his own bloodbath.

  Couple of doors open, shocked faces poke out. Horror and disgust.

  Mum come around the corner and stop dead in her tracks. I mean dead.

  This time, she ain’t goin’ to deny the evidence in front of her very face.

  Doing Time

  Romeo! Oh, Romeo! What’ve you done to my baby!

  Uh-oh.

  Girl with a orange face and freaky long nails come stormin’ outta her flat, runnin’ her hands through her hair, eyes blazin’ like she gonna rip my head off. I know about these type of girl. You do not mess with them. You mos’ certainly do not mess with their Chiwowows.

  Mum frozen, open-mouthed, like she ain’t quite believin’ what her eldest and best gone and done this time.

  Neighbours starin’ roun’, takin’ in the carnage.

  I’m holdin’ my hands up, try and placate Orange Girl. Big mistake. Hands covered in Romeo’s blood.

  Romeo covered in Romeo’s blood.

  My hound got Romeo’s blood drippin’ from his jaws.

  Mustaph, the idiot, tries – and fails – to stifle a giggle.

  I look to Sis. Sis shrug. Big help.

  What have you done! You animal! Orange Girl lunge for my face, goin’ to have my eyes. Sis get a grip on her jus’ in time, put her in restraint.

  I yell It’s the giant bugs! The giant bugs killed your dog! And their bloodsuckin’ babies!

  Orange Girl don’t look like she wanna kill me no more. She backin’ into Sis’s arms. Like she backing away from a highly dangerous individual. In his boxers.

  Sabre trots up to me, drops the chewed-up bloodsack, looks up hungrily at me like he beggin’ for more. Dumb dog lick his lips.

  Sis is forcin’ Orange Girl back into her flat, manages to make it look like she assistin’ her. Keeps one hand free, take herself a pic of this latest evidence. Out the corner of my eye, I see Mustapha edgin’ his way towards the down stairs. Traitor.

  That leave me and Mum. She lookin’ at the carnage all roun’ the floor, and lookin’ at me, blood-spattered in my undergarms.

  Let me explain I say.

  Mum ain’t sayin’ a word.

  But I got plenty to say. You gotta believe me! This ain’t no game. What you think this is – paint? It’s blood, Ma, bug blood.

  I’m treadin’ a trail of red footsteps all the way to our front door.

  Take off your trainers Mum mumbles, stickin’ her key in the lock. She pick up the post from the floor.

  Is this all she got? Worryin’ about dirty footprints?

  Listen to me, Ma!

  She turns round, totters like she losin’ her balance. Her eyes got a sheen, like she about to cry. Muscles workin’ in her cheek, chewin’ the inside of her face away. Blood she whispers.

  I’m washin’ my hands in the sink. Blood swirlin’ away down the plughole. I throw my hands at her, drippin’ water. Clean. See?

  She fixes me with disbelievin’ eyes. What kind of an animal are you?

  She tosses the post down, plonks herself at the table, and the sobs come. I give up, Marshall, I give up.

  I cross my arms over my chest. What can I say?

  I go and shower. Water boilin’ hot. Can’t seem to soap the stench of animal guts off of me. But it clear my head a little. Once this is all over, I will soak in a bath. Be rid of the filth.

  I come back into the kitchen, and Mum say I give up.

  She already said that. She pressin’ her own pause button all the while I was tryin’ to defumigate.

  We can’t give up. I’m lookin’ straight at her. Not now. We bein’ attacked. So we fight. Like Dad would have done.

  Stop! Her face streamin’. She got snot bubblin’. Stop now. Won’t you just stop?

  I don’ get it. Mum, we ain’t need to be shamed. These bugs don’ belong to us. We ain’t done it. We ain’t dirty. They attackin’ the whole block. They killed all the dogs!

  It is like we are not sharin’ the same conversation.

  Just like him. She smiles, like she cracked some bad-taste joke. Just like him. I always feared you would be. She grabs a hold of my wrist, pulls my hand to her face, kisses it. I pull away.

  Mum, you got to pull yourself together. We got to think about Connor. Make ourselves safe. Understand?

  She laughs, walks over to the balcony doors, looks out. With her back to me, she says Why do you think Big Auntie went to see the council? Why do you think we’ve been speaking with the police?

  Mum, this ain’
t about the little bugs no more. It’s about the big bugs. Don’t you get it?

  Ohh, Marshy… Is like she just ain’t hearin’ me.

  Big bugs. The Megabugs. That killed Sleepy Lady?

  My son she say, my eldest son.

  I can’t believe she still thinks I’m doin’ drugs. What does she think she jus’ saw out on the stairs?

  Tell me, Mum. Tell me you believe me. Why won’t you tell me?

  She turn roun’, wipin’ away her tears. She never used to cry. That one of her things. I seen her carryin’ the weight of the world on her back like citizen Atlas, and never cry, not a trickle. Even when the paper called her cheat and the court made her work for no money and she couldn’t buy Con-Con new shoes, she never cried.

  Oh yeah, ’cept that once, when she caught me teachin’ Con-Con how to fight knives.

  It’s me that makes her cry.

  How can I believe you? She look at me straight, through her tears. You come home covered in blood. Mutilating people’s pets, on your own doorstep. How did it get to this?

  She just as shamed as ever. She don’t even care I stayed up all night guardin’ over Con-Con.

  I’m watchin’ out for us, Ma. I’ll never let any of them things hurt Connor – or you.

  No she say, you are growing up a menace, just like people have been saying. And a danger to those around you.

  She just insultin’ me. I look away. I see the mail is addressed for me, so I pick it up and walk into the livin’ room, throw myself down on the sofa. Sit there, numb.

  I’m done talkin’. I slide my thumb into the flap of my letter, tear it open.

  I blink, start again at the beginnin’ like I’m in slow class, learnin’ ABC. This can’t be right. This is a letter from Dad. First letter in ten years. He says he’s served his sentence. He’s done his time, and they’ve let him out.

  My dad is out of prison. He comin’ home. I look up at Mum.

  Now we will share the same conversation.

  Dad is out of prison. I give her the news.

  She surprise me. I know.

  Mum takes the letter out my hands. She holds her palm out at me when I try and leap up, snatch it back. She readin’ it speedy, still with her hand held out to me like lollipop lady stoppin’ traffic. Then she look at the envelope, my name and address typed on it nice and neat like she can’t believe it. She toss it back at me, like it some scrap.