If so, that couldn’t be good.
On the upside, it was a momentary distraction, one I’d be remiss to ignore.
Taking advantage of the confused dog faces around me, I hooked my glasses up from the ground then turned and bolted, leaping over the werewolves forming the rear vanguard and crashing through one of Pop’s plate glass windows to land in his kitchen.
I needed to make sure my friends were all right, but with any luck this change of venue would also bring with it a change in the current fortunes of this battle.
HERO IN A HALF ASS
I swung my arm, catching everything that was on the counter next to me and knocking it all to the floor. Glass shattered, knives scattered, and the entire place was covered in a greasy mix of flour and vegetable oil. With any luck, the resulting mess would slow down my pursuers for a second or two.
As the icing on the cake, I yanked open the oven door, instantly filling the room with the succulent odor of cooked ham. If that didn’t keep these slobbering mongrels busy for a few minutes, I didn’t know what would.
That done, I turned my attention toward the direction of the living room, where an entire symphony of destruction seemed to be playing out – another gunshot, the sound of furniture shattering, and voices crying out.
“Ow! Goddamnit! Come on, work already!”
“Get out of the way, girl!”
“I’m not a girl, dumbass!”
“Bark!”
Mixed in with it all were a chorus of snarls, telling me my earlier fears had been correct.
There was neither time to be subtle about things, nor much opportunity – considering my current lack of working digits.
I was tempted to charge straight ahead, through the wall and into the living area, but then I took note of the wall itself. This place wasn’t made of drywall and a few scattered studs like most dwellings. Everything was solid wood, solid being the operative term. But maybe that was a good thing.
Taking the time to step through the kitchen doorway instead, I turned and upended a nearby china cabinet with my shoulder, seeding the floor with debris and more broken glass – just as there came another crash from up ahead. There was no more time to waste on covering my tracks.
I stepped into the living room to find a scene of chaos. Pop and Kara stood off to one end, the couch flipped to afford them a modicum of protection. Both were armed and Pop had apparently wasted no time in gathering the rest of his guns, as a small arsenal lay stacked between them.
A few feet away, Glen was engaged with one of the werewolves ... sorta. They were circling each other: the beast growling, Glen lamely attempting to growl back. This was the sort of weird shit you didn’t see in most nature documentaries.
However, of far more pressing concern, and where both Pop and Kara were both trying to get a clear shot, was another wolf that had fallen upon Tom.
Crap!
My friend was on the floor, clearly overpowered. The wolf was slashing and biting at him, just barely kept at bay as Tom’s aura would flare to life at the last second, deflecting each killing blow, only to then fizzle out again.
“Come on! Work, you piece of shit!” he cried, sounding more annoyed than terrified, which wasn’t entirely surprising.
I might not be the poster child for the ideal vampire, but there was little doubt he was the shittiest Icon in history – something I might’ve found amusing under better circumstances. Sadly, all it did for us now was fuck us up the ass.
Screw it. Time to take matters into my own hands, or lack thereof.
I bolted forward, head down, hoping Pop didn’t pick that moment to decide he had an open shot.
“Freewill!” Glen cried out, but I ignored him, shoulder-checking the werewolf and sending it tumbling away from my friend.
“Now!” I shouted. “Empty the clip and don’t hold back.”
“This ain’t got a clip, you ignorant fool,” Pop snapped.
“Who gives a fuck?! Just shoot it and keep shooting.”
That spurred them to action and, a moment later, the room erupted in a barrage of gunfire.
The downed wolf was peppered with bullets. As for the one facing off against Glen, it recoiled from the sound then – perhaps sensing it was outnumbered – turned and fled into the night, out the broken remains of the front door.
Too bad I had a feeling it would return soon enough, and with reinforcements.
Pop and Kara ceased firing long enough to toss away their newly emptied firearms and pick up others from the pile, but the wolf they’d blasted appeared to be down for the count.
As for Tom, I stepped back allowing him room to get up. “I’d offer you a hand,” I said, holding up my mutilated appendages, “but, I don’t have any to spare.”
“Thanks, man,” he replied, climbing to his feet, a bit bruised but otherwise no worse for the wear. He couldn’t control his aura for shit, but thankfully it still seemed to work instinctually. “What the fuck happened to you?”
“I gave these assholes the finger ... then another, and another.”
He actually grinned. “Werewolves. How cool is that?”
“I’ll hold off judgement until I can count on my hands all the ways this is most definitely not cool.”
Speaking of which, Pop stepped around the couch to where we stood. “Hot damn, son. You need a hospital.”
“Don’t worry. They grow back.”
“They do?”
“Hopefully. Everyone here okay?”
“I think I might be missing a piece of my tail,” Glen replied.
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
“Where’s Sally?” Kara asked, a look of panic in her eyes.
“Gone. I don’t know where, but don’t worry. What matters is those things didn’t get her. I’ll explain later...” There came a crash and several snarls from the direction of the kitchen. Oh shit! Guess one ham could only do so much. “Make that much later, after we’re miles away from these fucking things.” I turned to Pop. “Listen, I know what you said about defending your home...”
“Fuck that. I can always build a new one.”
“A more than reasonable answer,” I said, turning toward the remains of the front door.
♦ ♦ ♦
“Offhand, I’d say we’re more royally fucked than the Queen of Denmark’s strap-on.”
Can’t say my friend was wrong, at least on that first point.
My plan had been simplicity itself: grab one of the cars out front – mine or Kara’s rental, didn’t really matter which – and drive the fuck away. We could always figure out a plan of action later, when we weren’t stuck in the middle of a bad horror flick.
Sadly, it seemed the werewolves had already seen that movie. Both cars were trashed – tires shredded, windows smashed, hoods and roofs both caved in, with it all topped off by a big pile of dog shit in the front seat of my Camry ... because why not.
There was a chaotic element to it, though. This didn’t feel planned or thought out. Both vehicles looked like they’d been attacked simply for being there. And here I thought most dogs liked car rides. I dunno, maybe they thought our plan was to take them all to the vet.
Either way, the end result was us being thoroughly screwed.
“Come on,” Pop said, heading off into the darkness, as howls filled the night air. “Garage is this way. My truck’s inside.”
Or maybe not. “Think it’s okay?”
“Hopefully,” he replied, sounding as if he had his shit together far better than the rest of us. I could see where Ed had gotten his blasé attitude toward danger. “I keep it locked up tight. Don’t trust the local teenagers.”
“I’m sure that goes double for teenaged werewolves.”
“You ain’t wrong, boy.” He led the way toward another large structure off to the side of the house, as seemingly all around us the night air was rent with the sound of monsters. “Let’s hurry. Gonna take a few minutes to prep. Was replacing the water pump earlier when Kara pulled in.�
��
“A few minutes, eh?” Tom asked, bringing up the rear.
“Yep. Was gonna change the oil, too, but I figure that can wait.”
No argument there on my part. We reached the garage. Unlike the house and storage shed, this structure was made of sheet metal, probably a prefab. Ultimately, though, I didn’t give a shit about the construction, so long as it was sturdy enough to hold until Pop could get us out of there.
He unlocked the door, then stepped in and turned on the lights, illuminating the workspace. Unlike the shed, this was one big open area – large enough for Pop’s truck, a full-sized Ford F-150, as well as some work benches, a canoe, and more tools.
Once I was in, I turned around. “Lock the door behind ... um, Tom?”
I stepped back to the doorway and poked my head out. There was no sign of him. What the fuck?
“Where is he?” Kara asked, stepping to my side.
“I don’t know.”
“Do you think one of those things...”
I held up a hand. “No. We’d have heard it and seen it, too. That aura of his would’ve lit up like a magnesium flare ... probably.”
“Then where is he?”
I would’ve heard one of those werewolves approaching us. Of that I was sure. Subtle, these things were not. But, in all the chaos, listening to these things howl up a storm, I might’ve missed a much smaller set of feet heading away from us. After all, why would I have bothered to keep an ear out for something so cataclysmically stupid?
But, again, this was Tom we were talking about. I swear, I needed to put a leash on that idiot some days.
“We have to find him.”
“No,” I said, turning to Kara. “I have to find him. And trust me, I can. You get in there and lock the door, let Pop finish his work. If we’re not back in ten minutes, leave without us.” I considered all the monsters likely still in the area. “Fifteen tops.”
“But...”
“It’ll be okay,” Glen said from behind her, his voice full of exuberance. “He’s the Freewill and she’s the Icon. It’ll take more than a pack of ravenous bloodthirsty monsters to stop them.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence, pal,” I said, turning away.
Now to only hope his faith in me wasn’t as misplaced as I feared.
♦ ♦ ♦
I had a sneaking suspicion where the moron had run off to, but to be safe I let my nose guide me. Back before Tom had taken up residence in her body, I’d been intimately familiar with Sheila’s scent – maybe a bit too familiar now that I thought about it. Even in my early days as a vamp, I’d been able to pick out her scent from the crowd, her unique odor unmistakable to me.
Yeah, definitely a bit of creep factor there. Goddamn. I’m surprised she hadn’t taken out a restraining order against my stalker ass.
The thing was, Tom didn’t use any of the same beauty supplies she did. His morning routine mostly consisted of generic soap, or at least I hoped it did. That said, beneath it all, he was still in her body and thus carried her scent. As much as I knew he’d give me endless shit if I ever admitted this out loud, I was certain I could still track him if need be.
Heading in the direction I was sure he’d fled, I took a deep breath through my nostrils, letting the scents of the night air fill my sinuses. What a surprise. It mostly smelled like a fucking kennel.
Don’t get me wrong, it could’ve been worse. In the past, I’d made the mistake of taking a sniff while in the vicinity of Sasquatches, all of whom smelled like rancid maggot-covered ass. Smelling those fuckers had been like an olfactory kick to the balls. This, while not exactly pleasant, at least didn’t make me want to shove wooden dowels up my nostrils in the hopes of never smelling anything ever again.
The wind carried far more than the odor of dog, though. There were the underlying scents of the forest – trees, dirt, animals, and more. Oh, and in case you’re wondering, yes, bears do shit in the woods. I caught a whiff of cheap perfume, pretty much the opposite of what Sally used to wear. However, that wasn’t Tom. I had a feeling the Eau de Kmart belonged to Myra. Seemed more her style.
There!
With so many other competing scents, it was almost easy to miss, but I finally caught Sheila’s – err Tom’s that is – scent floating on the breeze. It brought back memories of a different time, a different us, but that was all in the past. Pleasant as she might’ve smelled, she was Tom now, which meant there was no way in hell I wanted to make this into a habit going forward.
Sure enough, I was right in my assumptions. The idiot had headed straight for the storage shed. It should’ve been pure suicide to go that way but, amazingly, the backyard was mostly clear now. Myra was gone, too – probably headed back to the nearest state fair so she could be crowned Miss Corndog or something.
I didn’t allow myself to be fooled, though. The werewolves were definitely still in the area. I could hear them crashing around in the house, snarling and probably trashing the place. Others had apparently moved off into the woods, probably to terrorize the local rabbit population. Nevertheless, I stuck to the deep shadows as I tried to make my way across the yard unseen.
So far there’d been no sign of Tom, or his corpse, proving that once again fate smiled upon the mindbogglingly stupid.
However, as I caught sight of the storage shed, I realized his luck likely only stretched so far. The door was open with the light on inside. That itself wasn’t the damning part so much as the fact that I was certain I wasn’t alone in noticing it.
Yes, he might’ve been an idiot, but he was also my best friend. Tempting as it was to leave the doofus to his fate, I had to make sure he was okay.
I raced forward, stepping inside the door just as he rounded a corner heading my way, a box held unsteadily in his hands.
“Oh, hey Bill. Truck ready to go?” he asked, as if he’d been doing nothing more than packing for a road trip.
“Seriously, dude? What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“Before you judge me, let me just say I’m doing this out of the spirit of altruism.”
“Are you now?”
“Hell yeah. I mean, we’re gonna find Ed, right? Well, when we do, I guarantee it’ll warm his heart to know that I saved his childhood memories from a bunch of asshole furries.”
“The same childhood memories he’s left here for years and never once mentioned?”
“Not my fault he doesn’t appreciate the value of collector’s items. And if he doesn’t want them, I know a little girl who will. Now are you going to stand there like a douche or help me out here? This isn’t easy with my gimp arm, you know?”
“I think I’ll choose the douche option. Drop that shit and let’s go.”
“No way.”
“I’m serious.”
“Or what? You’ll drag me out?” he replied with an asshole grin, eying my ruined hands.
“I still have teeth.”
“Save the sick kinks for any desperate prostitutes we come across.”
Tempting as it was to simply club the shit out of him, I turned and said, “Fine. But keep up and don’t be surprised when I stand back and let Pop kick your ass.”
“Whatever you say, Captain Hook.”
I stepped back into the night air, before stopping dead in my tracks at the realization that we’d been a hair too slow. Tom nearly ran into me a moment later, the box partially obscuring his view.
“The fuck, dude?”
There was no need for me to answer, though. The reason became blindingly obvious a moment later as snarls filled the air around us.
Just as I’d feared, our luck hadn’t held out. Two werewolves were waiting outside, flanking us as they crept out from around either side of the shed.
“Drop the box and run,” I hissed. “I’ll cover you.”
“Fuck that noise. We can take these assholes.”
Cool as the idea sounded in theory, I’d already tangled with these things enough for one day. “I’m serious. There’s no tim
e to fuck around with...”
There was no time to finish my sentence either. The wolf to our immediate left charged toward us. I turned to face it, but my ears told me the other was on the move, too. Sadly, there wasn’t much I could do about it, not barely functional as I was.
I stepped forward, hoping Tom’s aura was usable enough to at least keep the other monster at bay.
The werewolf came at me high, its full height dwarfing mine. That was fine. I’d played this game of chicken before. I charged forward, ducking low at the last minute and hoping I didn’t end up with a face full of wolf dick.
The werewolf’s momentum didn’t allow it to stop before I hoisted myself up, catching its body in the upswing and catapulting it over me – pretty much the only move I had that didn’t require working hands. Thank you, years spent watching WWE matches.
I turned to see it land on its back about fifteen feet away, just as the other one plowed into Tom like a living freight train, sending toys flying and him tumbling to the ground.
Thankfully, his aura had partially activated at the last moment, sparing him from the multitude of broken bones he would’ve likely suffered otherwise. Unfortunately, the collision with his shield of faith didn’t appear to have fazed the werewolf in the slightest. No surprise there. I’d seen Sheila at full power and Tom wasn’t anywhere near that. His current aura was a nightlight compared to her nuclear bomb.
“Run!” I shouted, stepping over Tom and intercepting the beast before it could launch itself at him again. I planted my feet and braced myself against the werewolf’s massive body, doing what I could to hold it back. Using the broken stubs that had been my hands to keep the beast at bay hurt like a motherfucker, not to mention I had to bend my head low to keep the fucking thing from treating my face like a giant McNugget, but somehow I managed to keep it from advancing.
Bill of the Dead (Book 2): Everyday Horrors Page 23