by David Morgan
Chapter 15
Cruxx and Mickey arrived at the comic book store just as the contractors were finishing installation of the final piece of glass.
“Wow—that was quick.” Cruxx commented.
“I’ll say,” Mickey said, admiring the handiwork of the contractors, “I’ll definitely be hiring these guys in the future.”
They went into the comic book shop and Mickey spoke with the foreman as Cruxx set to his task. He covered his face with a painter’s mask and grabbed a sterile bag to gather the Brony-Furry spunk sample. It was super gross. Numerous times he gagged into his mask, nearly vomiting. This was before he even so much as touched the jar. He went about his work and sealed the jar, sealing it tight while spitting defamations at the Furry Order.
A screeching sound drew Mickey’s attention away from his conversation. He looked up to see a car wildly turn screeching into the parking lot.
As the car came to a stop in the lot, he dismissed the contractors and called for Cruxx. “We’ve got company, Cruxx!” He yelled.
“Furries?!” Cruxx stuffed the sample into a backpack and reached for his Warhammer, stashed in the back room of the comic shop, along with the rest of his equipment.
“I don’t know! I can’t tell—but brace yourself.”
Crouching behind the counter, Mickey grabbed for his crossbow--watching closely for any sign that this might be Furries.
Chad stepped out of the vehicle and Mickey lowered his crossbow and signaled for Cruxx to put his hammer away.
“It’s some of the regulars!” He shouted to Cruxx, still in the backroom. “I’m opening up.”
“Careful! It could be a trap!” Cruxx shouted.
“No,” Mickey responded confidently as he stepped out from behind the counter, “I know these guys…but something’s wrong.” He opened the door, seeing that Chad and Randall were now struggling to carry what looked like a person wrapped in a blanket.
“Help!” Chad said.
“Cruxx! Get over here! They need help!” Mickey shouted.
The two ran out to meet them and Cruxx took up the girl in his arms.
“She’s…bitten!” Chad said, struggling to speak in between breaths. “She…needs…help!” He spit on the ground.
“C’mon!” Mickey motioned them into the store.
Cruxx carried her into the comic book shop and Mickey assembled some card tables to lay her down comfortably. Chad watched Cruxx, carrying her as though she weighed practically nothing, comparing that to the way he and Randall struggled to bring her only a few feet.
“What’s happened?” Mickey said and Cruxx grabbed the covers.
“Wait!” Johnathan shouted. “She’s badly burned! We need to pull the shades!”
“What?” Mickey was confused.
“Please!” Randall added.
They quickly turned every shade in the room, covering as much of the store in darkness as they could—but not so dim that they couldn’t see.
Chad gripped the covers over her face, preparing himself for the shock of seeing her badly burnt skin.
“Was there a fire?” Mickey asked with urgency, “Why didn’t you take her to the hospit—,”
“No—from the sun.” Chad said.
“Sunburn?” Cruxx asked in disbelief.
“Sort of,” and Chad pulled the covers down revealing Kara’s face.
“I don’t believe it!” Randall said.
“She’s not burnt at all.” Johnathan muttered to himself.
“But we saw it! The smoke! The screams!” Randall defended, feeling accused of some elaborate hoax.
“What is this?” Cruxx asked.
“It’s true!” Chad gasped, searching her body for burn marks, “She was practically in flames!” But the pale skin was unnaturally smooth: perfect, except for the pallid color that now consumed it.
“No. Not your story.” Cruxx said. “This,” and he pointed to two small holes in the girl’s neck above the collar bone.
Mickey bent in, examining the wounds. “What are those from?”
“I told you,” Chad said, “She’s been bitten!”
“Bitten by what?”
“A vamp—,” Chad began, but stopped short, the word sounded ridiculous being pronounced to strangers.
“A vampire?” Cruxx asked. “You’re screwing with us, kid.”
Johnathan stepped up, “It’s no joke. Look—we saw her, she was burning, she screamed in the sunlight, we had to cover her with the blanket to get her here—we didn’t know where to take her. And now you found these holes—fang marks, much?!”
“Wait here.”
Mickey and Cruxx walked into the backroom and spoke briefly, but urgently. The boys overheard a few words here and there, words like ‘safe house’ and ‘red pill’ but could barely understand what it was about. The conversation was animated, as though many factors weighed on them—then they came to an agreement.
When they stepped out of the store room, they took one look at the boys and said, “We’ll take Kara—you follow us.”
Cruxx carried Kara—still unconscious--to the car and laid her in the back seat, covering her with the sleeping bag. Each piled into their own vehicle and drove off, one following the other.
“Do you trust them?” Randall asked as the car sped down the town’s streets in pursuit of Mickey and Cruxx.
“What choice do we have?” Chad answered, “Not much of one, as far as I can tell.”
“Look guys—I’m sorry.” Johnathan spoke up. “This is all my fault.”
Chad was silent.
“I didn’t mean to…I just...did you really expect me to believe…with no proof…no verifiable data...” Johnathan whimpered from the back seat.
Chad looked into the rear view mirror. “Shut. Up. John.”
John continued to sulk in the back seat, but quieter now, as Chad and Randall discussed their options—which admittedly, were few.
They resolved to arm themselves with a couple pocket knives that Chad had stored under the seat for emergencies, and should the situation turn sour—they’d figure out a way to get Kara out of there and make their escape.