Blood & Dust (35 page)

'…a camper van, one of those old Vee Dubs that just never say die, and it's
getting on to sundown and we're talking the talk and they're stoking the fire and I'm thinking I'm
in backpacker heaven, and then, suddenly, Taipan's there. Got no idea where he came from - one
minute I'm making pretty with the girls and the next there he is, shaking sand out of his hair and
saying, what's this then, and Kala says, he's good with cars, and Taipan says to me, can you fix
that heap of junk? Of course I can, right? I get the old clunker to the next town where they can
trade up, so to speak, and the very next night the gang's all there and I'm in.

'They're on the road all the time, the Night Riders. They need a good mechanic, more than
anything, and I was - am - a bloody good mechanic. But I never got Kala and I never got Penny, just
cups of brew. For months. Years. Just brew.

'And then Taipan turned up at that farmhouse doing that shadow walk shit and said he'd got a new
fang coming in, a mechanic - that'd be you, dude - and that's when I knew my time was up.

'I had to pick a side that'd pick me. So I made a call. You were the straw that broke this
camel's back, man. I just wanted you to know that.'

Nigel leaned closer, a hint of desperation in his eyes.

'So how about it? Tell me where the Riders are and I'll put in a good word with the boss. Because
at the moment, you haven't got any friends at all; you're just bait.'

'If you think they're coming for me, you're wrong. I left 'em. I came here for my mum and none of
them would help me. So it's all been for nothing. But thanks for the story, Nige.'

'I heard you had Kala with you. They're out there now, hunting for her.'

'They've already had their shot at her and it got them nothing. She's got no more idea where
Taipan or Danica is than I do.'

'That's too bad.' He poked Kevin's chest, making the freshly puckered scar of the stake wound
pain. 'The Strigoi sure put a hole in you, didn't she? Taking its sweet time healing, too. You must
be one hungry dude right about now.' He looked at the window. 'She'll probably put a few more holes
in you before sunrise.'

Nigel slumped back into the chair.

'You ever wonder why Taipan didn't just shadow walk in there the first time? Maybe straight into
his sister's brain, even? I'll tell you. Coz he wanted to get caught. He wanted an end to it. He's
suicidal. Too much sun. That's why I reckon he's gonna come after you. Revenge is a great excuse for
suicide. Noble sacrifice and all that.'

'I think you're giving him too much credit.'

Nigel snorted. 'Maybe.' He stroked his chin. 'So what's she like, that Kala? You must've bagged
her if she came with you.'

Kevin turned away, not wanting to give the surfie the pleasure of seeing just how much he wanted
to tear his heart out.

'Bet that pissed Taipan off, her running off with you. Got a real problem, hasn't he? First his
sister, then his moll. Yeah, I bet he's real pissed. Maybe enough to do something stupid. Something
heroic.'

'You'd better hope he isn't, because I figure the guy who sold him out will be right on top of
his shit list.'

'Maybe. I wonder if that puts me before or after you?'

The surfer cackled and Kevin turned back to the wall, and after a bit, Nigel took an mp3 player
from his pocket and plugged in.

'Just wiggle a toe if you change your mind about saving your hide,' he said before turning up the
volume. Indecipherable warbling hissed from the headphones.

At least Kala had got away. Kevin prayed that Meg had listened to him and was already on the road
to somewhere safe, too. He had to hand it to Taipan, though; he'd had his doubts about Nigel the
whole time and turned him into a self-fulfilling prophecy. He'd needed a new mechanic and, even
there in the servo, with a stake in his chest and Hunter holding a gun on him, he'd been planning
ahead. Too bad it had all come to a dead end.

The door opened. Mira. Now he was for it. She signalled with a toss of her head for
Nigel to leave. The door slammed shut. The lock clunked home. Mira whisked her hooded 'Bone from her
shoulders and folded it neatly on the chair. She'd exchanged her armour for a long skirt and
singlet, too flat to need a bra but shapely just the same, and excited, too, if those headlights she
was high-beaming were any gauge. Kala's earring dangled in her left lobe. She swaggered over and
stroked his cheek with the back of her fingers. She smelled fresh, lush. He saw himself in her eyes
- a corpse in a television cop show, waiting to be sliced open.

'Have a good chat with young Nigel there?'

Kevin kept his mouth shut.

'He didn't hurt you? I'd be upset if he had.' Her fingers trailed across his chest. 'You are way
over-dressed, Grease Monkey.' She snapped the pendant from his chest. 'So out of date. Here, have
you seen mine?' She reefed down one side of her singlet to reveal a five-pointed star inside a
circle tattooed on her left breast. The tat had the same silvery-iron colour as those of Bhagwan's
offsiders. The ink seemed to move, like coolant through a clear hose. 'Traditional pattern put to a
new use.' She traced the shape with a fingernail.

Kevin looked her in the eyes.'Your tits are quite small.'

'I don't think you're the man to be making size insults.' She smoothed her singlet to cover the
ink and tucked his pendant into her slight cleavage, then leaned over him.

'Of course, it's not what you've got but how you use it.' She stroked the wound her stake had
left in him, like trailing her fingers through water. 'Does it still hurt?'

Kevin shook his head.

She pressed down on the scar. 'How about now?' Fresh blood welled where her nails sliced the
skin.

Kevin squirmed, making the manacles rattle.

Mira licked her fingers, wrinkled her nose in distaste. 'Cow. It never does the job. Don't you
agree?' Her fingers trawled across his stomach, his hip, his thigh. 'I suppose Nigel filled your
head with ideas of what we might do with you. You're probably imagining yourself like a grilled
steak; or maybe your mother dead and drained, or worse.'

He squirmed, aware of the response her actions were eliciting from his traitorous body.

'Still some blood in the system, then,' Mira leered. Her nails scratched through his pubic hair,
stroked his swelling cock. She bent to lap droplets of blood from his chest, then stepped back,
reached under her skirt and slipped off a pair of black knickers, stumbling once as they caught on
the heel of her boot.

'Don't misunderstand me, Grease Monkey; I'm all in favour of the stick. But there are times when
the carrot can also be effective.'

She climbed upon the table and straddled him. One hand teased his cock to full erection, the
other kneaded her breast, then slid up her throat to her mouth. She sucked her fingers, then bit
down. He glimpsed the curve of fangs in her upper jaw, then could focus only on the scarlet winding
down her fingers into her palm. She dripped blood on his face. For a long, long moment, he managed
to resist, keeping his lips tightly shut. The blood fragrance swamped him as the drops sank into his
starving flesh.

Her other hand gripped the sides of his mouth. 'Don't play hard to get it. Not after all that
we've been through together.'

Against his will, he opened his mouth, hungry to swallow. She let him lick her fingers, then
thrust them into his mouth like bloody lollipops. He sucked hard, trying to get down to the bone.
Felt his gums pinch as his fangs extended. She pulled her fingers away before he could munch them.

'No biting the hand that feeds.' Her hand locked on his jaw, making him stare up at her. 'Not
when I'm being so kind.'

Mira impaled herself on his cock. Kevin groaned as she closed around him. Her fingers stroked his
hair, his face. She buried him inside her until their groins rubbed against each other with
delicious friction.

Her breath clouded over his face, the reflection of his own desire looking back at him, distorted
and foreign in her chartreuse eyes. She kissed him hungrily. The musky aroma of sex enveloped him;
sex and blood. She gave him her wrist and buried her fangs in his neck. Her flesh parted under his
teeth and bliss, boiling and fervid, exploded through him. And inside his mind…

A door explodes into splinters and a flock of razor-winged seagulls with
blood-dripping beaks fly out like bats leaving a cave, all backlit by a deep purple glow. Mira's
poppet hobbles out on bird-like legs, glorying in her freedom. Swollen storm clouds race in, looking
like cancerous lungs riven with violet lightning veins.

'Give me all you've got,' she shouts, and the clouds tear open. A thousand
shrieking faces trailing intestines swoop at him like kites driven by a hurricane. Blood rains down.
The poppet swells, grows, opens its mouth and lifts its elongating arms to embrace the deluge. Mira
dances like a ballerina, fully fleshed and coated in crimson.

She sees him, then, and drops to all fours, fangs glinting, but she turns her
back and opens her legs. 'You know you want this,' she says, her words like thunder. 'Blood calls to
blood. Give me all you've got.' Fangs snap like scissors inside the wide pink lips of her cunt.

Naked, he runs, his hard-on banging against his thighs, blood dribbling into his
mouth where the rain has left him saturated. She pounces, a jaguar in scarlet with maroon eyes, and
Kevin screams. He's on his back and his legs and arms are bound and she fucks him and…

drinks herself

drinks Kala

drinks Taipan

drinks Danica

His blood drains into Mira, squirting with every twitch of his cock, pumping with
every beat of his heart. All his secrets, his very essence, emptying into Mira, who clings to him
like a tick. His climax is the vilest sensation he has ever felt, not because he doesn't want it,
but because he does.

And all the time, she's laughing at him, coz he's so very easy.

Back arched, Mira rammed herself on to his dying prick until she shuddered her
last. Rivulets of blood ran from the corners of her mouth, spotting her breasts where, sometime,
she'd torn her singlet down and left deep scratches in her chest. Her tattoo was a vivid, liquid
logo on her tit. His chest was a mess of bloody cuts; his neck throbbed with bites.

Kevin's senses reeled, Mira's voice indistinct through the maelstrom of lives swirling in his
bloodstream. But the threat penetrated the riot. He tried desperately to focus.

He was on the bed at Whitby Downs, a prisoner; no seagulls, no storm, no blood rain. But
Mira…

Give me all you've got

You're only young, Kevin

It was perfect

I'll be at the gorge till the end of the week

'Well, that was interesting. What is it about you boys and your mothers? Your
mothers and your girls. And your fathers.' Smiling, so smug, she wiped a droplet of blood from her
chest and licked it from her fingertip, then nodded to herself before asking him, 'Now which gorge
would that be?' She slapped his face. 'I'm talking to you,
Kevvie
. Pay attention.'

He spat at her, a globule of sticky crimson that splattered against her chest.

'Don't go changing the subject,' she said, 'as tasty as that might be. Tell me about the gorge.'

He turned his face away, shame and despair ushering him back into the crazy carousel of Mira's
lifestream. He hoped for some truth to emerge, for some weapon with which to destroy her, but all he
tasted, all he experienced, was death. Pointless bloody death.

She scooped up his spittle and licked her finger, then did the same for the tendril of drool on
his chin. 'No, he must think I'm stupid. Why would Taipan tell you that, when he must've known you'd
be caught. That I'd find out. It's either a trap or a feint. And Mother -
Mother
has given me
nothing
.' She slapped him again, seized his chin so she could stare into him, their noses
almost touching. 'You have no idea where they are, do you?'

Kevin strained, but he couldn't break free.

Mira chuckled as she sat back, her weight uncomfortable on his thighs. 'So what do I do with you
now?' She tapped her jaw with one finger, pursed her lips as though considering the conundrum. 'What
ever will I do with you
and
your mother now that you're both expendable?'

He tugged against the cuffs, desperate to get his hands on her. 'Don't you dare hurt her!'

'What if I did? They're just cattle, boy, ours for the taking. On that score, Taipan is right. If
only he'd learned some prudence.'

Mira slowly stepped off the table, a rider dismounting after a long day in the saddle. She pulled
her singlet back into shape and retrieved his pendant from where it had fallen. Her face was
bloated, the whites of her eyes heavily veined, her lustrous lips full to the point of bursting. If
only he could pinch one between his teeth and pop it like a cherry tomato, taste that juice she'd
stolen from him. Take back all the lifestream that she'd absorbed.

A hesitant tapping on the door sparked a frown. Hunter. Poker-faced as he took in his
blood-splattered mistress; surely the myxo could smell the sex, so strong it was gagging. Nigel
peeked around Hunter's side, grinning like a sideshow clown.

'We have a visitor.' A nod at Kevin, the hint of a wince, so fast Kevin thought he might've
mistaken it. 'The girlfriend.'

Kevin's despair threatened to drag him through the floor. If it was Meg - God, it could just as
easily be Kala - if it was either of them, or his mother, even, and they brought her here to see him
like this.

'She's alone?' Mira said.

'So I'm told. Turner's put her in with the widow.'

'Quite the collection we're getting.' She looked at Kevin, considering, stroking the blood
bracelets on her wrist. 'I didn't think she was coming, not after her surprise meeting with the
grease monkey. Unless her delicious little talk with Don Juan here has left her upset and confused.
I can just imagine her, can't you? In her bedroom, pacing, her tender heart breaking. Her beloved
with some wild woman, ranting, raving - until finally she can't stand it any longer. So she grabs a
bag of goodies for mummy dearest, as requested, and comes out to see what the grease monkey was so
upset about. Could that be it, I wonder?'