Bill of the Dead (Book 2): Everyday Horrors

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Bill of the Dead (Book 2): Everyday Horrors Page 21

by Gualtieri, Rick


  “Not following.”

  “What I’m saying, dumbass, is stop beating yourself up. Christy is with you because of who you are, in fact, despite who you are. Just the same way she almost married the meathead in there, even though he has his act together about as well as a meth addict standing atop a mountain of free drugs. Give the girl some credit. She knows who you are, what you are, and yet she still hasn’t run away screaming. Offhand, I’d say that bodes well for you.”

  “But everything...”

  “Yes, everything is fucked up now. Not going to argue with you there. And I won’t lie and say it won’t be enough to possibly screw things up for you guys. In fact, it probably will. But what I am saying is that, whatever happens, it won’t necessarily be because you don’t measure up.”

  Huh. In a roundabout way that was actually really nice of her to say – in a sense. Thing is, though, it’s not like she was saying anything my own subconscious hadn’t been screaming at me. If anything, her conclusions were far kinder than whatever the person in the mirror was saying back to me every morning. In fact, her words were almost enough to make me consider that...

  There came the sound of a branch cracking from somewhere out in the woods, nothing I hadn’t heard a dozen times in the last hour. However, it was soon followed by another and then several more.

  “So, what do you think about what I just said?” Sally asked.

  “What I think,” I replied, as all the sounds of the forest suddenly seemed to grow quiet at once, “is we should get our asses ready, because company’s about to arrive.”

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  “Put your sunglasses on,” I whispered.

  Sally wasn’t stupid. She put them on, covering the freaky ass glow, then she unclipped the walkie and lifted it to her lips.

  “We have possible contact. Stay alert. We’re not alone out here. Over.”

  She once again secured the radio, freeing up both hands for the massive revolver she was packing. Small girl, big gun. Why hadn’t anyone made that into a movie yet, or maybe a porno?

  I was armed, too, but opted to keep my gun at my side, for now.

  Whoever had been visiting Pop in days past probably was more than aware he was packing, but that hadn’t scared them off. Nevertheless, I didn’t want to appear overly aggressive until I was given reason to.

  Scanning the surrounding tree line, I began to see shapes moving around in the gloom of the woods – accompanied by the sound of leaves crunching underfoot.

  That alone, oddly enough, made me feel a bit better. One main advantage the Feet had over us – besides being big as trucks – had been their unearthly stealth. You’d be all alone one second, then your head would be crushed the next and you’d never see it coming. Comparatively speaking, whoever was out there now, though, was moving with all the grace of a herd of hippos.

  “Oh, yeah, this isn’t fucked up at all,” Sally said from my side.

  I turned my head, wondering what she was talking about, and saw that at least one of the nighttime intruders had gotten bold enough to step almost to the tree line, giving me far more of a look at him than I wanted.

  It was a guy, just a regular looking guy – a bit below average height, thinning hair, slightly overweight. In fact, the only thing that stuck out about him was that he was bare-assed naked.

  The fuck?

  “That stoned hippies theory is starting to sound more and more likely.”

  “Tell me about it,” I replied, as I caught sight of someone else, and then another – all similarly clothing impaired.

  I wasn’t sure what had changed. Perhaps it was the fact that Sally and I were the ones standing out here and not the person they normally harassed, but either way it seemed these naked weirdos were picking tonight to be bold.

  And no, it wasn’t to our benefit. The fantasy of nude beaches was a haven of beautiful flesh and perky boobs. Too bad most people weren’t swimsuit models. If anything, the ones I could make out were far closer to me than Sally on the hotness scale.

  On the upside, at least I didn’t have to worry about any accidental boners making these negotiations weird.

  “Nice night for a walk,” I called out, hoping maybe a bit of pop culture could break the ice.

  “You’re neither Jacob nor the Progenitor,” the first of the nudists said. Huh. Guess he wasn’t a Schwarzenegger fan. His loss.

  “Sorry about that. The Progenitor couldn’t make it. He sends his apologies, asked if we could come in his stead to see what this shit was about. Listen, no offense, but I’ve seen some pretty big mosquitos flying around out here tonight. I don’t know about you, but I sure as hell wouldn’t want to be walking around with my dick flapping in the wind.”

  “Good job, Bill. That ought to do it,” Sally remarked from beside me, before raising her voice. “What do you want with the Progenitor?”

  “He’s the herald of the new race,” another voice replied, this one a scrawny middle-aged lady.

  “Yeah, and?” I prodded.

  “And we want him, asshole!” a third person, another male, replied from somewhere behind the tree line. At least this guy was direct.

  “What for? So he can bite you all in the ass?”

  “No, fuck face,” the same voice replied. The owner stepped forward, revealing himself to be a big old bear of a man, thick with muscle and fat – the kind who wouldn’t have looked out of place eating at a truck stop, assuming he was wearing pants. “We want to end him.”

  Oh crap.

  “We’re finally free now. Ain’t we?” he cried out, eliciting a chorus of “Hell yeah!” and other affirmations from all around us – at least a dozen voices, maybe more.

  This was becoming less and less promising by the moment.

  “And we plan to stay that way, don’t we?”

  Another round of agreement followed.

  “We’ll never go back to the way it was!”

  I glanced sidelong at Sally, not wanting to take my full attention off the crazed nudist mob. “Any idea what the fuck they’re talking about?”

  She shook her head. “My vote’s still on them being stoned outta their gourds.”

  “Good point. Think maybe they got their hands on some bad shrooms?”

  “No idea, but they’re about to get their hands on some hot lead.” She took a step forward, gun raised.

  So much for me playing good cop. It was time for the bad cop to flash her badge.

  “Listen up, assholes,” she cried. “I don’t know what you dickheads want and I don’t care. The only thing I give a shit about is that you’re trespassing and pissing me off. So I suggest you go back to whatever bar you stumbled out of, put on a pair of sweatpants, and stay the fuck away from here.” She pulled back the hammer on the massive gun. “Or else I can guarantee something bad is going to happen.”

  Sadly, something bad did happen, but not in the way any of us were expecting.

  As Sally finished up her not-so-idle threat, her body began to glow – bluish white light suffusing her entire form. At first, I was afraid she was about to blow again, something that wouldn’t have boded well for either the folks in the woods or the house behind us. However, she hadn’t lit up at all during her previous episodes, especially not anything like this. More important was the fact that she was staring down at herself, as if equally surprised at what she was seeing.

  The bracelet on her wrist let out a single beep.

  In that same second, the glow around her intensified, like she was standing in the middle of a spotlight, and then it simply winked out – revealing nothing but emptiness where she’d stood. There was no trace of Sally left, as if her presence here all along had been nothing more than a figment of my imagination.

  The fuck?!

  Silence descended in the backyard of Jacob Vesser’s home. I expected triumph or perhaps manic glee to show on the faces of the naked weirdos surrounding me, but instead their expressions mirrored the shock on my own.

  No. That couldn’t
be right. I was simply projecting. These bare-assed fuckheads were obviously to blame. I didn’t know how, but they’d somehow lashed out at Sally in retaliation. Lashed out and killed her...

  She’s not dead. Stop for a moment and think about it.

  The voice inside my head gave me pause, even as I’d begun to raise my weapon.

  It forced me to take stock of the situation, push back the outrage that was demanding I open fire on these fuckers for what they’d done.

  Fine. There’d been a flash of light and then she was gone – not dissimilar to how a vamp might die and turn to ... except that it wasn’t the same at all. Sally wasn’t a vampire, at least not anymore. We didn’t know what she was. But even if she had been, there’d been no heat, no combustion. And there certainly wasn’t any pile of dust where she’d been standing. Hell, there wasn’t anything there at all. It was like she’d simply ... vanished.

  Son of a...

  And that’s when it hit me. This wasn’t a disintegration. I’d seen this exact same thing happen many times. It was like Magi teleportation, or sending as Christy insisted on calling it. Of course, Sally wasn’t a Magi either, but who was to say what her new powers might or might not include?

  Where she’d gone was a whole other story, though. No idea on that one. She could’ve zapped across the yard or to the freaking moon for all I knew. However, I wasn’t exactly in a position to figure that out right then, being that suddenly I was all alone against a small horde of naked maniacs.

  “What the fuck was that?” the mouthy nudist cried.

  And it seemed the momentary ceasefire was over. “Um ... you tell me,” I cried out.

  “What the hell is going on back there?”

  “Bark!”

  I glanced over my shoulder to find both Pop and Glen making their way around the side of the house. So much for waiting for our signal – not that I could’ve given one if I wanted to, as Sally still had the freaking walkie.

  Pop flashed the beam of his Maglite past me and toward the trees, alighting upon the truck driver looking guy who so far seemed to be the leader of this group.

  “Is that you, Hobart?”

  “Vesser,” the man replied in greeting, not looking happy to have his identity revealed.

  “Where the hell are your pants, man?”

  A reasonable question, under far more reasonable circumstances.

  “I’m sorry you had to see my face, Jacob.”

  “Stay back,” I warned Pop as the people in the tree line began to step forward, their aggressive stance suggesting they weren’t stopping by for a neighborhood barbecue.

  “Where’s Mistress...”

  “No time for that, Glen, watch him. As for you fuckers...” It was time for the ace up my sleeve. A little something to show these inbred hillbillies I wasn’t playing. As I turned back toward them, I darkened my eyes and extended my fangs. “Back the fuck off. Last warning!”

  The beam of Pop’s flashlight fell upon my face in the same second. Couldn’t have timed it better had we planned it.

  If the crazed nudists had been surprised by Sally’s vanishing act, that was nothing compared to the look on their faces upon seeing me.

  Eyes opened wide as they stopped dead in their tracks. Oh yeah, this was more like it.

  “It ain’t possible,” Naked Truck-driver said. “There ain’t none of you left.”

  I felt safe in assuming he wasn’t talking about a guy wearing glasses. So, these dipshits were up on who the Progenitor was, but hadn’t gotten the memo about regular vamps being back, too. Guess word traveled slow out here in the boonies.

  Still, the fact that they knew about vampires at all was a bit worrying.

  Truth of the matter was, young vamps like me were tough but we weren’t invincible, and there were more than enough of these yahoos to make my night even worse than it already was.

  Fortunately, I remembered the lessons of my early days with Village Coven. Back then, Sally had told me that attitude was half of every battle, sometimes more so. I hadn’t believed her until I’d actually tried it myself – adopting the persona of Dr. Death and doing my best to act the part.

  The results had likely saved my life, all thanks to her.

  Time to see if this was one piece of bullshit that hadn’t lost its fragrance. “You have no idea how wrong you are, Bubba. If you know about vampires then maybe you’ve heard of the Freewill. And if you haven’t, then please allow me to introduce myself.” I extended the claws on my free hand to add a bit of extra zing to the threat.

  Oh yeah, still got it.

  Those I could see all turned their attention toward Large Marge there, the one Pop had identified as Hobart. Fitting. He looked like a Hobart.

  Hobart, for his part, started to back away. Yes!

  However, rather than run off like a whipped dog, he said, “You and your top coven ain’t never gonna lord over us again. I swear it!”

  What the?

  Before I could say anything to that, he turned, cupped his hands over his mouth, and cried out, “Myra! Get over here!”

  Myra?

  I figured I’d give him the benefit of the doubt and assume Myra was a Doberman pincher or maybe a German shepherd. At least that would be reasonable. The alternative was that he’d called for some chick to come out here and face me instead. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I didn’t consider myself a sexist, but that seemed to be a serious pussy move on his part.

  Or at least it did until I saw the glow emanating from the forest.

  “What in hell?” Pop said.

  “You can do it, Freewill,” Glen cried out. “I mean ... bark!”

  Oh, for fuck’s sake.

  The stupidity behind me, however, was not my concern as the glow intensified, almost as if ... it were heading this way.

  Sure enough, a few moments later the bushes a couple of yards away parted to reveal a woman. So much for Hobart showing some dignity here. I mean, yeah, this was definitely better than some slobbering Grendel’s mother-like monster named Myra, but still.

  Unlike her beer-gut afflicted brethren, she was in good shape, not naked, and was obviously glowing. She had long red hair and wore a flowing white robe – familiar to ones I’d seen before. Needless to say, if her being lit up like a Christmas tree wasn’t a dead giveaway, her attire was.

  “Stay back,” I told my companions. “She’s a Magi.” Duh! That probably wasn’t particularly useful for Pop. “Um, they’re dangerous.”

  I hadn’t been expecting an appearance by Ginny Weasley, but it wasn’t like I hadn’t tangled with witches before. If I could close the distance between us without getting blasted, I could take her out no problem – hopefully.

  The witch locked eyes with me as she stepped to the edge of the tree line. I could read arrogance in her gaze as well as recognition. Even if she didn’t know my face, she’d likely heard of the Freewill. She pursed her lips, then opened her mouth, no doubt to say something obnoxiously arrogant about how I was a filthy beast, beneath her attention, blah blah blah.

  “Fuck him up good, boys!”

  Okay. That was unexpected. Instead of austere formality, like I’d come to expect from the Magi, I’d gotten their lot lizard cousin instead. Ah, rural Pennsylvania, never a dull place to be.

  I tensed up as her crew, still standing among the trees, began to whoop and holler. I guess in the valley of the naked, the person with one clean set of britches was queen.

  Myra Sixpack, no doubt spurred on by their cheers, began to glow brighter as I readied myself to move – fully expecting a bolt of either red or green death to come flying my way any second.

  Instead, though, the glow of magic abruptly changed to purple as a dome of energy formed around her. So much for clubbing this witch like a ginger baby seal and being done with it. Still, it wasn’t like I’d never seen this trick...

  Before I could finish that thought, Myra raised her hands and a bolt of yellowish power erupted from the top of the dome. It flew up into th
e space above us to a height of about fifty feet.

  The fuck? What next? Was she going to try selling me fireworks out of the back of her pickup?

  I was about to tell her I wasn’t impressed by the light show, when the energy above us coalesced into a glowing sphere, taking on shape and form until it resembled...

  Huh. That kinda looks like a full moon.

  Okay, this was one stupid-ass mage. Seriously? An illusion of the moon was even more useless than conjuring a fake sun. I let out a laugh at the dumbassery on display.

  However, the sound of my voice was almost immediately drowned out by an angry snarl which rose up from nearby.

  Another joined it, and then more. Moments later, the air was filled with them.

  I turned and caught sight of Hobart, busy foaming at the mouth. He still looked like an out of shape redneck, but was now an out of shape redneck with red eyes, jagged sharp teeth, and a coat of black fur that was rapidly expanding to cover his naked ass.

  He threw back his head and howled at the illusion of the moon, an act echoed by all those around him as they changed from man to beast.

  Oh, you have got to be fucking kidding me.

  WEREWOLF 359

  I desperately hoped that Sally was alive and well, wherever she was ... because I had every intention of kicking her ass when next I saw her.

  One of the first things she’d told me upon my awakening as a vampire was that werewolves didn’t exist. They were a myth, nothing more. Bigfoot was real, witches were real. Hell, even shapeshifting rock monsters were real. But werewolves? Nope, just a myth created by cavemen after smoking too much peyote.

  Tell that to these guys, though. Apparently, these fuckers hadn’t gotten the memo that they were nothing more than the product of drugs and Hollywood special effects.

  “Freewill?”

  “Stow it, Glen,” I said, wide eyed. “Still processing this myself.”

  I remembered seeing The Howling years back and being impressed – and not just because of that scene where two people turn into monsters while fucking each other’s brains out, although, in all fairness that part may have spurred a few wank fantasies over the years. The thing that stood out most for me had been the cool transformation of man to wolf beast.

 

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