Vampire Soul Box Set (Vampire Romantic Comedy)

by Mac Flynn

  She raised an eyebrow. "Say what?"

  I nodded at the warehouses. "It's about some squash that you're holding here. Roland and I think maybe somebody might come around tonight and gorge on some gourds."

  Sherry jerked her head towards the empty passenger seat. "Get in."

  I hopped into the seat and she drove us through the gates. We parked in the parking lot and walked towards the warehouses.

  "So are we talking some sort of vegetarian vampire or what?" she questioned me.

  "We don't know yet, but since it attacked one of your suppliers we figure it might follow the scent here," I explained.

  We stopped at the door to one of the warehouses closest to the railroad tracks and Sherry turned to me. "You're talking about Ben Carson?"

  I nodded. "Yep, and the thing took a bite out of my aunt's jack-o-lantern last night."

  "You get a look at it?" she wondered.

  "No, just its tracks. Some sort of hoofed animal," I told her.

  Sherry crossed her arms over her chest and pursed her lips. "That's not much to get everyone around here excited about spending a night in the cold."

  "They don't have to. Roland and I can look out for it," I offered.

  She sighed, but nodded. "All right, I'll let you two in tonight myself, but it's just because I owe you both big for saving Dad."

  "We might spend the whole night counting squash," I assured her.

  Sherry smiled. "You'd need more than one night to do that."

  She opened the door and gestured inside. I stepped into the warehouse and beheld a cornucopia of gourds. The rind-encased vegetables lay in stiff, three-foot tall cardboard bins, and those bins sat on metal shelves that reached to the ceiling. There were a dozen rows of the shelves that stretched from the front to the rear of the warehouse.

  "Aunt Ma can never find this. . ." I murmured.

  Sherry came up behind me. "What was that?"

  "That's a lot of jack-o-lanterns," I replied.

  "And gourds for table decorations and some organic Gaia-worshiper drinking cups," she added. "So what time will you two be here?"

  "Just after sunset," I told her.

  She snorted. "Of course. Why'd I bother to ask? Well, when you come meet me outside the gate. I don't want to have to explain to security how two people managed to get inside the fence without setting off the alarm."

  "Where's the alarm?" I asked her.

  "It's connected to the entire fence and the doors. If they open without a key or someone breaks even a link we'll know about it," she promised. I covered my mouth to hide a yawn. Sherry leaned towards me and frowned. "You don't look so good. Getting enough sleep?"

  "Just enough to keep me from getting my own coffin," I quipped.

  "That doesn't sound like too much. That vampire boyfriend of yours running you ragged?" she guessed.

  My mouth clattered shut and I glared at her. "He's not my boyfriend, he's just my roommate."

  "So you two aren't a thing?" Sherry asked me.

  "If by 'thing' you mean roommates, then yes," I replied.

  "We're both adults, Misty. When I mean 'thing' we both know I'm talking about sex," she scolded me.

  "I'd rather abstain from necrophilia," I quipped.

  "Then why are you letting him hang around you?" she wondered.

  I held up the box. "Somebody has to babysit this thing."

  Sherry's eyes flitted between me and the box. "A box?"

  I tucked the box under one arm. "It's a long story, but the box is important."

  "Uh-huh. Well, you and your box should get some rest if you're going to stay up all night," she recommended.

  We exchanged goodbyes and I walked to my car. I glared down at the box.

  "You could've helped out with some flash or mist ooze or something," I hissed at it. The box sat on the seat like a metal log. I snorted and started the car. "You're a hell of a conversationalist, Boxy."

  CHAPTER 4

  The rest of the car ride and day were a little darker. Then the sun went down and Roland rose from my coffee table. I was on the couch and watched the lid rise up.

  "You ever get splinters?" I asked him as he stood up.

  "Very rarely," he told me. He took a seat in his chair and crossed his legs.

  "Were you able to convince Sherry to allow us to guard the gourds?" he asked me.

  "We're scheduled to go on gourd duty any time," I told him. "I told Sherry we'd be there a little after sunset."

  We got into my car and drove to the Depot. The sun was completely gone and the only natural light was from the full moon in the clear dark sky above us. There were lights over the garage doors of the warehouses, and the warehouse with the gourds had all of its interior lights on. Sherry stood in the guardhouse with the guard and let me drive my car into the lot where I parked near the gate.

  "So what exactly are we supposed to be keeping our eyes out for?" Sherry asked us as she walked up to the car.

  "The creature is no larger than a human, and possibly as small as a dog," Roland told her.

  "We sure we're not dealing with a kid who just really doesn't like squash?" she suggested.

  Roland shook his head. "A human couldn't balance themselves on such small feet."

  "Unless we're dealing with a demented circus performer who has a slasher tendency during the full moon," I spoke up.

  The corner's of Roland's lips twitched up. "Perhaps, but we'll see what may come tonight."

  "I told the guard not to let anyone else in or leave his post, and there's no one else here but us," Sherry informed us.

  "Show me to the warehouse that stores the squash," Roland requested.

  "It's right-" Beep. Beep.

  "Somebody hit the snooze button?" I quipped.

  Sherry whipped her head to the guardhouse. "That's the quiet alarm." She hurried over to the small shack with us behind her.

  The guard pointed at a screen in front of him on the console. It showed a live feed from a camera. The area was dim, but I could make out the fence and a bunch of brush beyond that. "It's on the other side of the tracks," he told us.

  Sherry pursed her lips and grabbed three flashlights from the desk. "That's clear across the compound. Come on," she ordered us.

  Sherry stepped out of the guardhouse and tossed us each a flashlight. We raced across the concrete and past the warehouses to the railroad tracks. The rear of the warehouses had lights, but they only stretched ten yards from the buildings. The rest of the compound to the fence was, fifty yards of railroad tracks, bunches of short weeds, and the prospect of twisted ankles.

  Sherry stopped at the edge of darkness and flicked on her flashlight. She lowered her voice to a harsh whisper. "Careful. The boys toss a lot of broken pallets on this side of the tracks," she warned us.

  "Why aren't there any lights over there?" I asked her.

  "The power company won't install any electricity on the other side of the tracks," she explained.

  I clicked on my flashlight and glanced at Roland. He had his soul box in one hand, but not his flashlight in the other. Sherry turned to us and the light of the flashlights showed the dark lines of her frown.

  "You gonna turn on your flashlight or do you expect to catch them by feel?" Sherry asked him.

  "You forget what I am," he reminded her.

  She stepped back and pointed her light towards the tracks. "Thanks for reminding me. You go first," she ordered him.

  Roland bowed his head and took the lead. We stepped across the railroad tracks and stumbled into the uneven, weed-infested ground. I tripped on various pieces of metal, wood, and something that looked like a voodoo doll. Roland walked straight ahead and at a quick pace.

  "Mind slowing it up so the humans don't impale themselves on a weed?" I asked him.

  "We're almost there," he comforted me.

  A few more feet and my flashlight showed me what he meant. Our beams found the fence and the point of penetration for our phantom foe. There was a hole dug a foot
into the ground beneath the fence, but the bottom of the wires were curled back to give another half a foot for the intruder to get inside.

  I squinted my eyes and pointed at something white stuck to the bottom of the twisted fence. "What's that?"

  Roland stepped forward and grabbed the white thing. He turned it over in his hand and frowned. "It appears to be wool."

  I raised an eyebrow. "You're not pulling my leg of lamb, are you?"

  "No. This is a small patch of wool," he insisted.

  "I hate to interrupt your talking of sweaters, but where the heck's whatever got in here?" Sherry reminded us.

  Roland stooped and brushed his hand over the ground. I saw the tell-tale signs of the squash-murdering hoofed hitman. He nodded at the ground behind us. "The tracks lead towards-" I jumped when another, louder alarm went off.

  "The warehouse!" Sherry yelped.

  Sherry scurried across the railroad tracks and we followed. We reached the back of the warehouse and the light on the rear of the building caught on glistening metal. There was a two-by-one foot hunk of metal panel pushed into the warehouse. The sides were curved and ended in a tight neck inside the building.

  "What the hell?" she hissed.

  "The creature entered through the hole," Roland guessed.

  Sherry scowled and beat her flashlight into her other palm. "Then let's go say hello." She turned towards the corner and the door.

  "Wait. Let's see if we can get a look at them through the hole," I suggested.

  "But the hole is small," Roland pointed out.

  I grinned and handed him my flashlight. "Just gimme a second to suck up some gut and I'll fit."

  I got down on my hands and knees, and crawled into the hole. The thin ending point was tight on the shoulders blades, but I squeezed them through and looked around. The lit interior lights gave me plenty to see, and what I saw was carnage of the gourd variety. The bins closest to the hole were tipped over and spilled onto the floor. Broken and whole squash lay scattered on the floor. Some of the bins teetered on the edge of falling and joining their gourdy contents in gourd heaven.

  A long pair of muscled legs dangled out of one of the tipsy fruit bins. The legs ended in hoofs, and most of the leg was made of pink flesh until a half foot below the hindquarters. Then it gave way to a soft coat of black wool. A stumpy tail sat at the end of its butt and wagged to and fro. The rest of the creature spilled over the other side of the bin.

  Then I got an idea. Not a good idea, but an idea.

  "Hey! Leggy!" I yelled.

  The creature lifted its upper body out of the bin and looked at me. Its face was a long, thin snout with a pointed black nose. The eyes were set back in its head and were a bright yellow color. The upper body was covered in the dark wool, and the front legs also had the same quad-hoof as the back. It was some sort of sheep who's father must have been one ugly piece of mutton.

  The creature tilted its head to one side and blinked at me. Its yellow eyes softened. The thing slid backward and clattered onto the floor. The woolly creature stood at about three feet tall from hoof to the tip of its pointed ears. It took a step towards me.

  I smiled and waved at it. "Um, hi. You're kind of cute." For a misshapen crime against nature.

  The creature pinned back its ears and curled its lips back in a hideous snarl that showed off a row of sharp, pointy fangs.

  "Not cute! Note cute!" I yelled. "Pull back! Mayday!"

  The creature rushed me. I tried to reverse course, but my arms didn't want to tuck back through the small hole. Someone grabbed my legs and pulled me through the hole. That is, until my shoulder blades got caught on the thin opening. The person kept pulling, but my shoulders weren't budging. Something was going to give, and I had a bad feeling it was going to be my shoulder sockets.

  "Not working!" I shouted.

  The hands leg go of me and something slammed into the wall to my right. The creature's jaw snapped shut and its eyes widened. It tried to stop, but its hoofs skidded on the concrete and it crashed into the wall on my left. I was stuck between a pounding and a hard hoof as the creature tried to stand and the wall on my right bent inward from multiple blows. The creature clattered onto its feet and raced for the front door just as the wall was punctured by a hand. The hand and another grabbed the bent sides and opened the wall like a can opener.

  Roland jumped through the hole and landed beside me. He bent down towards me, but I pointed at the retreating rear of our fluffy foe.

  "It's getting away!" I told him. Roland hesitated, but I pushed his hands away. "I'm fine, but my aunt's pumpkin won't be if we don't catch that thing!"

  The creature slammed its head into the door. The entrance bent outward and the hinges were knocked halfway off the frame. Roland rushed to the door just as the creature did another slam and broke down the entrance. It rushed through and out into the night. I saw a flash of Sherry rush after it with Roland close behind.

  I wiggled myself out of the hole and looked myself over. I'd lost a bit of skin, clothing and some pride, but nothing that couldn't be fixed with a long, hot shower, a shopping trip, and a small tub of ice cream. I stood, brushed myself off, and walked over to the bins. One of the center metal shelves was littered with munched squash.

  "Ouch!" I yelped. I rubbed my head and looked up.

  The bins on the metal shelves leaned towards me and took the whole works with it. I turned and slipped on one of the slimy murdered fruits. My rear hit the ground hard and I had a front-row seat to my death as the metal shelves leaned over and dumped the bins onto the floor where I sat. I raised my arms and prepared to take my accordion.

  A moment before fruity impact a dark shadow flew in front of me. Roland wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close to him with his back faced towards the falling bins. The gourds spilled over us in a waterfall of seeds and sticky innards. One of the bins overturned on us and shut out the lights.

  CHAPTER 5

  The avalanche of fruit was over in a few seconds. I opened my eyes and found myself face-to-face with stoplight-red eyes. They said stop, but my mind said go, and I tried to reverse course in the tiny space that was our fruit quonset hut. My back hit a wall of fruit and heavy, thick cardboard.

  "Are you all right?" Roland asked me. The eyes belonged to him, but I hardly recognized the voice any better. It was hoarse and strained.

  "Yeah, but you don't sound so great," I returned.

  Roland lay over me with our faces nose-to-nose. He placed his hands on the ground on either side of me and performed a push-up that lifted a couple tons of fruit off of us. The fruit and bin rolled off us, and warehouse light permeated our dark little fruit house. Roland grunted and tossed aside the bin, and I sat up. We were both covered in orange goo courtesy of the smashed squash.

  I pulled off a particularly amorous string of goo from my face and turned to Roland. "You know, I'm really starting to hate squash," I told him.

  "I must concur," he replied. He tried to stand, but his left leg buckled and he dropped back onto his knees.

  I grabbed his upper arms and looked him over. "The stench get to you?" I teased.

  My joke fell flatter than a suggestion of barbecue to a group of vegans when I noticed the gash across his left side. One of the upright metal bars from the shelving had come down and dragged down his flesh. A thick trail of blood ran down his side and into his pants.

  "You trying to get yourself a permanent place in a coffin?" I scolded him.

  He lifted his head and smiled through a grimace. "Don't bury me too soon."

  Sherry appeared at the door with the guard in tow. "Misty? Roland?" she called to us.

  I tossed one of Roland's arms over my shoulders and waved to her. "We're over here!"

  Sherry and the guard waded through the produce catastrophe and reached us as I was getting Roland onto his feet. Sherry grabbed his other side and looked him over. Her pursed lips told me Roland had more than his usual one foot in the grave.

  "Let's get h
im to my office," she suggested. She glanced over her shoulder at the guard. "Get back to the gate and wait for me to get there."

  "But shouldn't we call the police?" he pointed out. Sherry narrowed her eyes, and the man snapped at attention. "Yes, ma'am!" He hurried off back to the guardhouse.

  "You've got to teach me that trick," I told her.

  "It helps that I sign the paychecks," she revealed. "But let's get your friend here to my office before he bleeds all over the fruit."

  We hefted Roland outside and across the concrete to the office at the right of the guardhouse. I looked around for any signs of our furry foe, but it was gone.

  "What happened to the creature?" I asked Sherry.

  "It jumped on top of the guardhouse and over the fence," she explained.

  We reached her office and plopped Roland in a spare plastic chair. Sherry bent down and tore open what remained of his gashed pants and shirt. I looked over her shoulder and winced. The pale flesh on his side had a nice gash down the hip. I was reminded of Ralph's stuffed hamburger-steaks. The steak was slit open and hamburger was stuffed into the opening. It was a highly sought delicacy if the trucker hadn't eaten in twenty-four hours and wanted to end his days seated over the worst-looking pile of cow flesh he'd ever seen, fork in hand and prayer in mind.

  Sherry shook her head and looked up at me. "I can't do anything for this. We need to get him to a hospital."

  "I'll be fine," Roland insisted.

  I snorted. "That's not fine. You look like you ran your side into a meat grinder."

  "That damage is great because I have yet to feed this night," he explained.

  Sherry and I glanced at each other. We both fought off the urge to wrap our hands around our necks. The color of his dark red blood down his side caught my eyes, and he was paler than the white pumpkin from the night before. I sighed and wiped some leftover squash off my neck.

  "All right, I'll bite, or you can," I told him.

  "We could each give half of what he needs," Sherry offered.

  I shook my head. "You're on duty, and if anyone's going to talk to the police it should be you. You go to the guardhouse and I'll deal with things here."