by Glenn Rolfe
“In the grass?”
“It’s a little farther in, just after the trees over there.”
He turned and kissed her cheek before standing and reaching out a hand to her. “Lead the way, my little mademoiselle.”
He watched her ass dance beneath the tan fabric of her shorts as she pulled him along.
Aren’t you just one eager beaver? he thought.
The longhairs hooted and hollered as they passed.
“Who’s your daddy?”
“Someone’s getting lucky.”
“Get some.”
Warren put his hands on her hips as they headed into the woods.
“Hey, what the hell?” he said, stopping behind her.
He’d seen someone. Standing off to their right.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“I….” He scanned the grass but couldn’t see anything. “I thought I saw someone.”
She stepped to him, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him. “Let them watch.”
His arousal conquered the odd sense of dread.
“Eyes on me, sugar,” she said, reaching behind her back and undoing the bikini top. The purple fabric slid from her breasts.
She smirked and pulled him along.
She shoved him as they reached a narrow path in the woods. He stumbled back just beyond a large rock. The ground was bare save for a few discarded beer cans and a red bandana that someone had left behind.
She dropped to her knees and undid his jeans.
Within seconds she had him in her hands, in her mouth.
A shadow fluttered.
He jerked back, his eyes straining to find the source of the movement.
Vanessa pulled him to the ground and shoved him onto his back before standing up and slipping out of her shorts, then kicking them to the side.
Stradling him, she grabbed his chin. “I said eyes. On. Me.”
He gave the trees one last glance before locking on to her body again.
She rose up and slid down onto him. He closed his eyes, groaning as her warmth enveloped him and she began to writhe up and down.
He clamped his hands on her ass and guided her movements.
She grabbed his wrists and brought his hands above his head, leaning her breasts over him and slipping her tongue into his mouth before sitting up again with her hands upon his chest.
“You’re so—” he started.
Before he could finish, she was gone.
He sat bolt upright, searching for her.
What the fuck?
“Vanessa?”
His jeans were still around his ankles. He could still feel her wetness on him as he went limp. The sound of the branches jostling above drew his attention. He had to roll out of the way as the body dropped down next to him.
Vanessa’s dead eyes stared up at nothing. Blood ran down over her breasts from the open wound in her throat.
“Jesus!” he cried. “Oh Jesus Christ!” Trying to get to his feet, yanking up his pants, he stumbled forward, nearly falling to the ground.
“I too like the young pretty ones,” a voice said from behind him.
Warren cried out.
A man in black wiped a trail of blood – Vanessa’s blood – from the corner of his mouth. His dark eyes seemed to draw Warren in like the tide.
“Seems we both got a taste of her tonight,” the strange man said. “Come to me.”
Warren didn’t know why, but he stepped forward. He knew he should run. This was no man. This was…something evil.
“I can see your life is empty. You are so alone.”
He was…alone. In his mid-forties and never married. He could never seem to open up.
“I can take it all away,” the man in black said.
Warren shuffled to him, a metre between them.
The man reached up and took Warren’s chin and tilted his head to the side. Warren felt a sudden warmth crawl over his mind and body. Happiness. His lips curled upward as he closed his eyes.
He continued to grin as the man placed his mouth to his throat.
It wasn’t until the man bit him that the warm fuzzy feelings ran for the hills. He tried to pull away from this thing in his neck but couldn’t. The creature sucked at him until all the fight in his soul fled.
Warren fell to the ground. He glimpsed Vanessa’s face again in the dirt, pale and devoid of life. A piece of magnificent art lost in the woods, lost for eternity.
Au revior, ma chérie, he thought just before he closed his eyes forever.
* * *
Gabriel finished the man off and stumbled back as he let him go.
He clenched his fists and felt the strength from the man’s blood coursing through him. It was glorious. He flew upward. Up above the trees, gazing down upon the beach, he could see everything as though it were twilight – one of the many enhancements that drinking human blood had to offer. Although Father had never explained the vast difference between draining beast or man, not that it was a subject the old fool would dare traverse, Gabriel was certain it had to do with the soul. Human consciousness held so much more than any other creatures on earth. And it was absolutely divine. His heart pounded heavy, a tribal drum calling to the gods of the night. The rush was intoxicating. He could feel every pore of his flesh. There was a world of flesh and blood upon which to feast.
He breathed the life below him in deep.
The power that awaited him.
Slowly, he made his way back down to the dead couple.
The man was a bloodless husk of dried-out flesh and bone.
He turned his attention to the naked girl. There was some blood left in that one, but he didn’t enjoy sucking from the dead. He stepped toward the beach but forced himself to halt.
The entire summer was ahead of him. There would be time to feast again. And again.
For now, he would discard the bodies where he had the others, and head to the pier.
He thought of walking amongst them while the high was so intense; he would feel each and every soul flickering and begging to be taken. A thrill that was nearly as addictive as the kills themselves. Yet, it could prove dangerous. The temptation could be too much, but it was his restraint that promised to make the next one all the more…exhilarating.
First things first. He must clean up his mess.
Chapter Seven
Rocky waited outside the bigger of the two arcades, the one with OutRun. Just like yesterday when he and Axel were here, the two big Frenchies were all over the new machine again, not that he’d step foot inside and chance missing November.
The sun was high above. He stood just under the shade provided by the tented canvas covering the arcade. It was a few minutes before eleven in the morning. He was early, but it was better to be early than late. The arcade always played 102.9 the Blimp, Maine’s rock station from Portland. ‘Cum On Feel the Noize’ from Quiet Riot ended, giving way to ‘Black Dog’ from Zeppelin. Rocky hadn’t really gotten into Led Zeppelin.
Sipping on a bottle of Orange Crush, watching the out of towners going past in every direction, Rocky wondered what Axel was doing. Probably still on the airplane. How long did it take to cross the ocean? Maybe not that long. Maybe he was grabbing fish and chips somewhere right now. He’d promised to call when his parents let him. Rocky couldn’t wait to update him on November. Hell, Axel probably wouldn’t believe that she’d kissed him. More likely, Axel would make up his own love story from England. His cousin had a thing for trying to either one-up him or act like he had the same stuff going on. Like when Rocky got a keyboard two Christmases ago, Axel claimed he’d gotten a drum set. Problem was the drum set was always at his Uncle Geoff’s house in Portsmouth, because his mom didn’t want to hear it all day. He kept promising Rocky it was coming, but the drum set never materialised at
Axel’s house. Rocky had given up asking about it. He wished Axel didn’t think he needed to make up things like that. He was the coolest kid Rocky knew.
His stomach growled at the sight of children passing by with their cups of Lisa’s pier fries. It’d been three hours since he’d had his cereal and watched M.A.S.K. He’d been awake since six a.m. He couldn’t even remember the last summer morning he’d woken up that freaking early. It seemed almost against teen law, but he knew it was because of her. He’d thought about her all night before he fell asleep. It was so crazy. He kept getting this swarming feeling stirring in his guts. There was a part of him that kept whispering that he was gonna get hammered by this girl. She was going to be his doom, except that didn’t feel right either. She’d seemed so genuine, but you never could tell.
He swiped his bangs out of his face, finished the soda and ducked his head inside the arcade to check the clock over the quarter machine. Half an hour had passed. He sighed.
“Waiting for someone?” she asked.
Spinning around, he said, “Oh, hey.”
November was dressed in a blue tank top and cut-off jean shorts. Her hair was in a ponytail. Her face looked pale, her eyes a little heavy, like she hadn’t slept well. Maybe she’d been up all night thinking of him, too.
“I hope you’re hungry.” The smile brought her face back to life.
“Starved.”
She nodded for him to follow. “Hold my hand,” she said.
He reached over and their fingers intertwined.
Another thought tried to ruin this moment for him. What if she hugs me or tries to put an arm around my waist? She’d feel the back brace. He wished he’d left the stupid thing at home. After yesterday, he wasn’t about to ditch it somewhere. If he lost the thing, his parents would kill him.
Please, god, don’t let her touch my brace. Please, I’m begging you.
It seemed like a dumb thing to ask of god, but he just didn’t want her to know about the contraption.
“Are you all right?” she asked.
“Uh, yeah. Sorry, I was just thinking about my cousin. He left for England today..”
“Oh, well, going to another country sounds pretty cool. I’m sorry you didn’t get to see him off. How long will he be gone for?”
“He’ll be back in August,” he said, his head drooping slightly.
She squeezed his hand. “Well, I guess I’ll just have to be your best friend while he’s away.”
His face flushed as he smiled and glanced at her.
Just looking into her eyes, he knew she meant it.
“How long are you going to be in Old Orchard?” He hated the question the second it left his lips. He didn’t want to think about her leaving. She’d just gotten here for crying out loud. What if she says next week? What if she says—
“Sometime around then. End of summer, I guess. When Gabriel’s ready to head back up north.”
“Gabriel?”
“My brother. He’s the one who decides where we vacation. Last year, we went to Kittery.”
“What about your parents?”
“My mom is with us, but she’s not well. She stays at the cottage. My dad passed away a few years ago.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Thanks. It sucks sometimes, but it’s…it’s….”
“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want. I didn’t mean to—”
“No, it’s okay. I just haven’t really talked about him with anyone else before.”
He wanted to ask about her friends or her home up north, but he decided to just drop it. He didn’t want to make her uncomfortable.
A silence fell between them.
He chewed his lip, hoping he hadn’t screwed up already.
“Come on,” she said.
She led him to a place he’d never eaten at before. A food truck with a cartoon portrait of a dude holding a steaming burrito that read: Greg’s Burritos.
“Have you eaten here yet?” she asked.
“Ah, no. I don’t think I’ve ever seen this truck here before.”
“Hey, guys,” the punk at the window said. “What can I get ya?”
November stepped right up, pulling Rocky along.
“Can we get two full supremos?”
“Sure thing,” he replied. “Anything else with that?”
Rocky noticed some sketchy things about Greg – sweaty hair sticking out the side of his backward Red Sox cap, the scabs on his elbows and knuckles, and the Band-Aid on his chin – and wondered if they were destined for food poisoning.
“We’ll grab a side of guacamole and two Cokes.”
“Guac comes with the supremo. I can add some extra on the side.”
“Yes, please,” she said. “Thank you, Greg.”
“That’ll be $3.62.”
November paid for him, pulling a five from her back pocket. “Keep the change,” she said.
“Wow, really?” he said.
She nodded.
“Of course, yeah. Thanks. I’ll have those right out for you guys.”
They walked over to the lone picnic table to the right of his truck. The meat and spices smelled good. Rocky had never really been a big fan of Mexican food; it wasn’t really on the Clarise Zukas menu. Outside of a night of tacos at his old friend Logan’s house a couple years back, he’d never had it. He couldn’t even remember if he’d liked the tacos or even if he’d eaten anything other than the ground beef and the cheese.
“How’d you find this place?” Rocky asked.
“Just walked by and thought the sign was fun.”
He checked it out again. And recalled the scabs and sweaty hair. Not that he was one to judge about greasy hair. He was not immune to showers despite what his sister often claimed.
“Did you notice the scabs on his arm?” he asked.
“Yeah, and he hurt his chin, too. Skaters always have wounds like that. I tried it once and fell right on my butt. Thought I broke my tailbone.”
Skateboarding, of course. Rocky shook his head at not guessing that. He could hear the punk tunes cranking from the kitchen.
“I’m not allowed to try it.” He said it before thinking.
“Not allowed?”
Shit.
He couldn’t tell her his mom told him she didn’t want him doing it. After he got his back brace, she’d seen him staring in awe at some of the local kids skating down his streets. They were flipping their boards beneath their feet and coming off the ground grinding down the sidewalk curbs. Don’t let me catch you doing something that foolish, his mom had said. The last thing Dr. Mellick wants is for you to scuff up your brace or hurt your back more falling off one of those.
“I mean, my mom doesn’t want me doing it. She thinks I’d break an arm or something,” he said, hoping it sounded good enough.
“It’s not that bad,” November said. “But I guess it’d be easy enough to break something if you tried a big trick right off.”
“Here you guys go,” Greg said, bringing the two fat burritos and Cokes to the table.
“Thanks, Greg,” November said.
“You’re welcome.”
“Hey,” she said.
He stopped and turned, his hands in the back pockets of his Dickies.
“You skate, right?”
“Sure do. You?”
“Not really, but do you have your board with you?”
“November, can we just eat?” Rocky said.
“I do. You want to try it out?” Greg said.
Why did he have to be so cool? Damn him, Rocky thought.
“Maybe after we eat these,” she said, holding up the beastly burrito.
“Cool. Just come up when you’re done.”
Rocky battled the dumb fears that wouldn’t let him go. He wasn’t afraid of skat
eboards. Hell, he thought they were super rad, but if he did fall, and he was pretty sure he would, she’d try to help him up, or what if his shirt flew up and she saw his brace. He wasn’t going to do it. He just hoped she didn’t think he was lame for not trying.
He brought the burrito up to his face and took a whiff; his mouth watered in response.
“You’re gonna love it,” she said.
He took a bite and felt his eyes roll back in his head. It was delicious.
“Told you so.”
He finished chewing and took a sip from his drink. “Wow, that’s really good.”
“Can’t judge a cook by his scabs,” she said.
Rocky’s Coke shot from his nose. He couldn’t help it; she was too damn funny.
“I’m so sorry,” he said.
She laughed, covering her mouth with her hand.
He’d never seen anyone so cute in his life.
They finished their food and drinks. Discussing Van Halen, of all things.
“You can’t listen to Sammy Hagar,” he said. “That’s like…like…rooting for the Emperor and Vader.”
“Oh, come on,” she said. “That’s not fair. The new album is good. You shouldn’t have to pick sides. And besides, David Lee Roth is no Luke Skywalker. He’s more like Lando Calrissian.”
“No way. Roth is…or was Van Halen.”
“Well, that’s just silly. I love the new album, and I bet you would, too. Just like the burritos.”
“You think so?”
“Good thing we’ve got the whole summer, it looks like you’ve got a lot to learn.” She got up and headed toward the window of Greg’s truck.
“Hey, ah, yeah, November…I don’t want to skate.”
She turned and placed a hand on her hip.
“Please? Maybe we could try it another day.”
“What would we do now then?”
He thought for a minute.
“Bikes,” he blurted.
“I don’t have one here,” she said.
“You can use my cousin’s.”
“Okay, you’re on.”
* * *
They said goodbye to Greg and thanked him for the food. Axel’s bike was in the shed out back of his house. There was a lock on it but Rocky knew the combination. Fetching Rocky’s Huffy from his front yard, they were about to set out when his sister pulled into the driveway.