Bill of the Dead (Book 2): Everyday Horrors

by Gualtieri, Rick

  “Go!” I repeated.

  “Hold on. Just one more second.”

  You have got to be fucking kidding me... “OOF!”

  Strong as I was, it wasn’t enough, especially against a creature that made me look Sally-sized in comparison. It managed to free one arm, tossing me away like I was nothing more than a squirrel it had grown tired of chewing on.

  I landed hard, rolled, and came to a skidding halt on my side.

  Back near the shed, the wolf I’d tossed over my shoulder was clambering to its feet, but that was almost a secondary concern compared to the one that had thrown me – now in prime position to gut my best friend, who was still scrambling in the dirt trying to pick up a bunch of freaking toys.

  “Look out!”

  He glanced up just as the beast swung a massive paw at him. Instinctively, because I knew the greedy moron wouldn’t have ever done so purposely, he held up his hands to ward it off, along with the pair of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles in them.

  Somehow, Tom managed to flinch back at the last moment, keeping his head but resulting in one of the toys being shattered to pieces. It flew out of his hand, a tiny shower of plastic body parts hitting the ground a moment later, with Leonardo’s head landing in the grass about a foot away from me.

  Sadly, a cheap action figure wouldn’t be the only casualty this night if I didn’t do something quick.

  Come on, Dr. Death. Now is not the time to play... HOLY SHIT!

  A blinding flash of brilliant white light erupted from the spot where my friend knelt, like someone had set off a briefcase nuke beneath him, causing me to quickly cover my eyes before they melted out of my head.

  “You fucking piece of dog shit!” Tom screamed, displaying an outrage one might more expect from someone who’d just witnessed their favorite pet run over.

  I blinked back tears as pure white faith magic radiated out of him – powerful enough to drive the werewolf back several steps and for my eyebrows to start smoldering.

  Tom pushed himself to his feet, glowing with fury and holding the remaining figure out before him – Rafael from the look of it.

  “Do you ... have any idea ... how much...”

  All at once, his aura seemed to concentrate around Rafael’s plastic form.

  “THAT FUCKING THING WAS WORTH?!”

  With that, a burst of dazzling white energy shot forth from his outstretched hand, slamming into the werewolf like a speeding bus. The creature burst aflame as it was flung backward, shattering a big ass oak tree that was in the way.

  What in the ever-living fuck?

  Bark, wood, and burning fur rained down from above, somehow missing us both. Good thing too, because I was kinda busy trying not to shit my pants at what had happened. From what I could tell, the werewolf had been utterly obliterated in the blast. Nothing but a twitching mound of steaming organs remained. As for its buddy, it might’ve been nothing more than a dumb animal, but even animals had survival instincts. It stood up tall, its red eyes open wide, then let loose with a stream of piss between its legs and took off running.

  “How’d you like that?” Tom cried at it, before turning toward me still aglow. “Oh yeah! Final flash, bitch!”

  He wasn’t whistling Dixie either. “What the hell was that?”

  “I ... actually don’t know. Didn’t realize I could do that.”

  “I-I’m not sure you’re supposed to be able to,” I sputtered, at a complete loss for words.

  “It was pretty fucking rad, though, wasn’t it?”

  There were a lot of things I could’ve said right then, but disagreeing with him wasn’t among them.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  There was no way the werewolves in the house, much less those still prowling around outside, hadn’t heard what was going on. I mean, shit, that blast had sounded like World War Three.

  I had no idea what that had even been. Based on what I knew about Icons, and what I’d seen with my own two eyes, their powers were defensive based – their true threat coming from their ability to wade into combat with their faith auras up, allowing them to incinerate most supernatural foes on contact. Nothing I’d ever heard of suggested they could fire it out like a freaking Kamehameha wave. If Sheila had been saving something like that as a last resort, she’d never once mentioned it.

  Either way, I doubted that was the case. If so, I wouldn’t have come close to killing her in our battle five years ago, crippling her arm in the process. Had she been capable of such an attack, she’d have surely used it. If not against me, then against Calibra or Alexander.

  Something didn’t add up here.

  Then again, I sincerely doubted there’d ever been an Icon like Tom.

  Either way, playing Blue’s Clues with this mystery wasn’t in our best interest right then. We still needed to get the fuck out of there. So, in the spirit of friendship and not wanting to get blasted myself, I offered Tom a compromise of sorts.

  “Three. That’s it. No more. Grab them and then let’s go!” I put as much Dr. Death as I could into my voice, hoping it worked.

  Thankfully, my best friend was a lot of things, but an alpha male wasn’t one of them.

  “Fine,” he groused, picking up two additional pieces, a Street Shark and a red Power Ranger to go with the turtle still in his hand. That done, he turned toward me expectantly. “Well, what are you waiting for, a fucking invitation?”

  If it weren’t for the fact that I was currently lacking in the hand department, I’d have smacked him upside the head.

  Instead, we raced back the way we’d come, heading toward the garage. I fumbled with my pockets trying to hook my phone, desperately hoping we hadn’t taken longer than I’d told Kara to wait, only to pull out a crushed hunk of plastic and glass. Fuck me! I really needed to start buying insurance for these things.

  “Come on, before they leave without us.”

  “You don’t need to tell me, dude,” Tom replied, his body still aglow, albeit thankfully not enough to burn me as we ran side by side.

  “You might want to douse the light show.”

  “You might want to tell me how. This body didn’t come with instructions.”

  “Then how the hell did you do that back there?”

  “Was hoping you had some ideas.”

  Our banter was drowned out as a chorus of howls rose up in the night, spurring us on faster ... or Tom anyway. I could’ve left him in the dust, but you don’t do that with buds, even dumbass ones.

  Finally, we reached the side door of the garage. I was tempted to barrel through it, but then remembered the people inside were armed and likely to shoot first and ask questions later.

  Instead, I stopped and knocked with my elbow, yelling out, “Open up. It’s us!”

  A moment later, Kara let us in. Sure enough, Pop was standing behind her, his weapon raised, with Glen alongside him.

  “How are we doing on time?”

  “Best not to ask,” she replied before turning to her brother and punching him in the arm, his faith aura doing nothing to stop her human fist. “And you, jerk! What the hell was that?”

  “Ow! I was saving my good friend’s cherished childhood.” Tom looked down at the remaining toys from his ill-timed side quest. “A few of them anyway.”

  Pop stepped forward. “You blasted idiot. You could have gotten us...”

  “Trust me, that option is still on the table,” I interrupted. “Let’s save it for later. For now, let’s get the fuck out of here.”

  “Good plan.”

  Tom’s aura had diminished to little more than a slight glow around him, but it was still more than I cared to sit next to in a cramped truck cab. And that wasn’t even counting if anything set him off again. Likewise, I wasn’t the only one his powers might affect.

  “Glen, you’re with me in the back.” I turned to Pop. “Don’t worry about us. We’ll be fine. Just gun it.”

  “If you say so, son,” he replied, climbing into the front seat of the massive pickup. Tom took sho
tgun, giving us a bit of buffer from him, while Kara got in the backseat.

  Pop started the engine then activated the automatic garage door.

  “Hold on tight,” I told Glen as we settled into the pickup’s bed. “This could get bumpy.”

  “You got it, Freewill,” he replied, sounding like he was having the time of his life. “Bark!” A moment later, a tendril of slime reached out of his mouth and wrapped itself around one of the tiedowns in the back. Whatever worked. I grabbed hold of one as well, best I could anyway with my few working fingers.

  Pop revved the engine as the garage doors opened up, the headlights revealing – oh, fuck me – a front yard full of werewolves. So much for a clean getaway. Standing among their number, about twenty yards away, was a big beer-bellied bastard – Hobart.

  “There’s too many to drive around,” Pop yelled, rolling down the window.

  “Then drive through them,” I called back. “These aren’t some poor doggies crossing the road. Run these fuckers down, I say.”

  Left unsaid was the fear that it wouldn’t work. The truck was big with a lot of horsepower, but we were dealing with supernatural predators here – ones easily strong enough to give as well as they received. If they managed to stop us, we’d be fucked as certainly as the guests of honor at a Japanese gangbang.

  “We’ll take out as many as we can,” Pop called back, gunning the engine one more time. Through the back window I saw his hand move to the gear shift, preparing to give it his all.

  Before he could hit the gas, though, there came a pained yowl from somewhere out front.

  A splatter of blood splashed the ground right outside the garage, followed by the body of a werewolf which went flying past us to land unmoving in the dirt.

  What the hell?

  Another wolf bounded across the front of the garage, likely looking to investigate, but it was stopped as a large hairy fist appeared from the other side, slamming into the first beast’s jaw and sending it to the ground.

  The fist had an owner, another werewolf – a big sucker with slightly lighter fur than the others, dark brown and a bit less ratty looking. It stepped in front of us, glanced our way, and then actually held up a palm as if indicating we should wait a moment.

  Then it picked up the wolf it had just decked, spun, and flung it across the yard ... where it slammed right into Hobart, knocking him ass over tea kettle. Huh. Nice shot.

  Probably stupid of me, but I slapped the top of the cab to get Pop’s attention. “Hold on.”

  “What?” he shouted back.

  “Let’s give this a second.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Not really.”

  Hey, at least nobody could accuse me of bullshitting them.

  The brown werewolf made eye contact with me and actually gave a single nod of its head, before turning and racing into the front yard. The other beasts, seemingly unhappy that this newcomer had just embarrassed the fuck out of their leader, swarmed it from all sides. But, where they were charging wantonly at him, like a bunch of rabid trash pandas, it was obvious this newcomer was fighting strategically.

  It sidestepped one, then grabbed it before it was out of reach and flung it face first into another group, using their numbers against them.

  Another wolf leapt upon its back, and the fucking thing tossed it off with a goddamned judo throw.

  “Kung fu werewolf for the win!” Tom shouted from the front, echoing my thoughts.

  I had no idea who this new wolf was or why it had picked now to appear but, after a few moments, it became obvious what it was doing. It wasn’t fighting these things to put them down for good, but instead tossing them back and forth, stunning some and scattering the rest as it seemingly cleared a path for us.

  No fucking way.

  Almost as if reading my mind, it turned toward us and waved one massive arm in a “come on” gesture.

  Fuck it. That was good enough for me.

  “Go!” I shouted. “And try not to hit that one.”

  “I ain’t stupid, boy. Now sit down and grab hold of something.”

  I did as told. “Hold on tight, Glen.”

  “Oh, this is so exciting.”

  I stared at the little weirdo as the truck started to move. “We really need to have a talk about your definition of exciting.”

  And then Pop began to speed up, making me close my mouth lest I end up ingesting any of those giant tree beetles still buzzing about.

  The brown wolf stepped to the side and actually gave us a thumbs up as we passed. I followed it up with a wave of thanks, as if he were simply another motorist who’d stopped to let us pull out. Lame, but it was all I had.

  As Pop accelerated toward the dirt lane that would hopefully take us out of this horror show, the brown wolf hightailed it into the trees – just as the others were starting to regain their feet.

  Whoever that wolf was, they’d just saved our asses.

  Sadly, I realized as we drove away from Pop’s house, we were leaving with a whole lot more questions than we’d arrived with.

  As if my week couldn’t get any weirder.

  FROM THE FRYING PAN...

  Despite being certain that something would leap out from the trees at any moment, leading to a desperate battle in the bed of Pop’s truck, we somehow managed to make it back to paved roads and what passed for civilization in rural Pennsylvania without further incident.

  I was just starting to think we were home free when the inside of the cab lit up from within, like someone had turned on a million-watt lightbulb. Recognizing the pure brilliance of faith magic, I scrambled as far back to the end of the cab as I could, just as the truck screeched to a halt on the side of the road.

  “Jesus, Tom!”

  “What the hell are you doing, you idiot?!”

  Okay, that sounded somewhat less panicked than I’d assumed it would.

  “Everything all right up there?” I called back, as the light dimmed and went out.

  “Not unless you call being blinded all right!” Pop shouted.

  “Sorry,” Tom said.

  “What do you mean sorry?” Kara scolded. “You could have killed us.”

  “I was just testing to see if I could make it work again.”

  “Seriously?!” I cried. “And you thought now would be a good time to do that?”

  He rolled down his window and stuck his head out, the glow completely doused. “Don’t be such a pussy. When inspiration hits, you go with it.”

  “Is that so?” Pop replied. “Well, don’t go with it when I’m driving, not unless you want to walk your ass back to...” He turned around in his seat toward me. “Where are we going anyway?”

  How the fuck did I end up as leader of this lifeboat? Oh wait. I was one of the three supernatural monsters onboard, and the only one who wasn’t either an obvious dumbass or wearing a disgusting dog corpse. Yay for being elected by default.

  Sadly, I didn’t have anything that even remotely resembled an answer for him, so I did the smart thing ... I stalled.

  “Take us back to the city. We’ll figure it out on the way.”

  It wasn’t a great plan, but it was likely better than sitting there with our thumbs up our asses. We were out of the woods, literally, but still in an area that it would’ve been generous to call sparsely populated. I had no idea whether those werewolves were in a mindset to follow us but, if they were, I highly doubted we were anywhere close to being safe. Best to keep moving and find a major highway as soon as possible.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  Pop pulled into a gas station just before we hit 80 East toward New York. As I filled the tank, he ran into the convenience store, returning with a t-shirt to replace the blood-stained mess I was still wearing – “I Survived Pennsylvania” emblazoned boldly on its front. Glad to see at least someone had a sense of humor about what had happened.

  Being that Tom had seemingly found his off switch, Glen and I climbed into the cab with Kara – making sure to remind the new
Icon that he’d best not fuck around with me sitting right behind him. It gave us a better chance to talk on the way back, not to mention made it about a thousand percent less likely that we’d get pulled over by the cops.

  Sadly, there wasn’t much to talk about. We had tons of questions about what had happened and who had saved us, but were seriously short on answers, other than what we’d seen with our own two eyes ... or two dozen in Glen’s case.

  There was also still the question of what the fuck had happened to Sally.

  Fortunately, I realized we needn’t be alone when it came to figuring this shit out.

  “Glen, do you have your phone? Mine got trashed in the fight.”

  “Sorry, Freewill. I left it back at the apartment.”

  Go figure, same place Tom’s was. Glad to know they were two peas in a pod. I turned toward Kara with the same question.

  “I left mine in the car.” She let out a sigh. “Can’t wait to explain this one to the rental company tomorrow. Guess I should’ve sprung for the extra insurance after all.”

  She wasn’t alone there. My car had been trashed, too, and it was no rental. Shit! I had a sinking feeling there was going to be a lot of mass transit in my future. Just what I needed to make my week any...

  Double shit! I remembered that I’d also left my laptop on the passenger seat, as if my fucking luck could be any worse. At least my game saves were backed up to the cloud. Glass half full, I guess ... half full of werewolf shit anyway.

  All right, that was enough of that. Everyone here was alive, that was the important thing. Besides, in the grand scheme of things, Pop had lost a lot more than any of us. Speaking of which...

  “I hate to ask, Pop, but can I borrow your....”

  “No can do, Billy boy. Don’t own one. Damned things give you brain cancer.”

  Somehow, I wasn’t surprised to hear him say that.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  The rest of the long drive was spent decompressing. Pop put on the radio – country, of course – causing me to tune out and mostly just stare out the window. Truth be told, I was both tired and hungry. I’d grabbed some pig’s blood before leaving with Sally, but big battles had a way of taking it out of one, even a vampire, and that wasn’t even counting the energy it was likely taking for my hands to heal.