Fanghunters (11 page)

All right, all right, buddy, he told
himself once reality set back in. Hold your horses. You’re not in the clear
yet…

It was true.

He still had to get Drake up there with
him...

He rolled his eyes. Then looked down to see
Drake obscured by grass. “Okay, buddy, let’s go...” he stretched his arms down,
just about able to grab hold of the belt he’d wrapped around Drake. He planted
his feet down on his haunches, sucked in, and then pulled. His eyes widened in
surprise at the strain. Drake stayed where he was. Dom released the tension. “Okay.
That’s how you want it, buddy?” he said down to Drake, licking his lips. “Let’s
try that again.”

He wrapped the belt around his palms to get
better purchase. He puffed up his chest and pulled again, this time with more
force. Chords on his neck popped out. His teeth crunched. He yanked harder
still, coming back on his heels. Finally, Drake started coming up the wall.

“Come on! Come on!” Dom urged between his
clenched teeth.

Drake slid up the wall, his head lolling
down. Dom wrapped the excess belt around his hands as Drake came up. He watched
him rise in pleasure, even though he was straining. He could feel the blood
pulsing in his head. The girdle of his back began to hurt but knew he had to
hold on, couldn’t let go, not now as he was halfway there. The last thing he
wanted was to go back to square
numero uno
.

Drake’s arms came up to meet him, then the
top of his head. And that was where it started to get difficult. Dom managed to
catch a quick breath before he was straining again.

Don’t let go! Whatever you do, don’t let
go!

A little more and the bulk of the body
would be over the lip of the wall. A sizzling sound started up; Drake was
melting again. Dom groaned.

Never mind that. Just get him over the
goddamn wall!

Dom quickly looked behind him. He was on
the edge of the wall, with only the width of the rug to maneuver. As Drake came
up, he took on more of his weight. With nowhere to shift his weight to other
than backward, the sudden realization that he was about to topple hit him like
a sledgehammer.

He snapped his head back around. The
concrete floor behind him suddenly appeared like a bed of spikes.

Drake came up some more, his weight
transferred straight to Dom.

Dom felt his body swerve back in a vicious,
ominous arc.

“Oh shit! What have I done?” he snapped in
alarm.

But it was too late. Drake came fully up
into his arms. The momentum sent Dom reeling. His eyes widened in terror. “Woah!”
Drake’s weight pushed against him and they both became airborne. The world
flashed by in a second. Before Dom had a chance to scream, he smashed painfully
into the concrete below. Pain seared across his back. In the next instant,
Drake landed straight on top of him, bouncing off his ribs. “Ow!” He instantly
seized up as he took the heavy blow. Drake hit the concrete next to him and
became still. Dom curled up in pain, the breath stolen from his chest. He
groaned and writhed in agony, the gray sky zoning in and out.

Oh man...

That hurt...

He grabbed his forehead and his chest at
the same time. Both ached.

He just wanted to die. Right there and
then. To just die. This was the worst day of his life, and he wanted to just
die.

Come on, man! Get up! Get up quick
before he burns in the sun!

Dom groaned. “Do I have to?”

YES!

He tried his best to roll to the side. He
was met with Drake’s red and blistered face. Both his eyebrows and eyelashes
had been singed off. But his blank eyes still glared at him. They were like
shark’s eyes. Dom cringed. He didn’t like staring so close at them. He caught
some of his breath and scrambled to his feet, pain making its own version of
love to his body. He limped over Drake and kicked his head back upright. Now
Dom was glaring down at
him
.

 “You enjoying the ride? Huh?” he asked him
in between short, sharp breaths. “What d’ya think of my great escape?” He threw
a hand toward the wall they’d just scaled. Drake just stared at him with his
dead eyes and sunburnt face, his fangs poking out of the bottom of his
blistered and melted top lip. “Yeah, speechless, huh, buddy?” Dom mumbled to
himself as he turned to the wall, grabbed the end of the rug, and gave it a
long, hard tug. It peeled away from the razor wire with relative ease, getting
caught slightly, but popping off the tiny blades like they were clips. He
didn’t waste any time in laying out the rug on the alleyway floor. He then went
over to Drake and picked him up from under the armpits.

“Back in there for you, buddy,” he told
him. “Snug as a bug in a freakin rug!” He went to drag him over to the rug when
a weird sensation suddenly hit him. It was like... he was being watched. He frowned,
then snapped his head to the right. His stare fixed on the upstairs window of a
house on the other side of the alley. There was a wrinkled face in there. An
old lady was staring back at him, her mouth agape. She took off her glasses,
craned her neck forward, and then squinted her eyes to get a better look. Dom
froze. He had a guilty glance from her down to the mutilated vampire in his
arms. He looked back toward the old dear, who was now staring at her glasses in
disbelief. She breathed on the lenses, wiped them on her cardigan, then put
them back on; now she was scrutinizing him closer, her face literally pressed
against the glass.

Dom nodded his head. “Hi” he said, with a
toothy grin. He grabbed Drake’s arm and made him wave at her. “He says ‘hi’
too...”

She just carried on staring, her jaw slack.

“Holy crap, I’ve been caught,”
Dom sang to himself through clenched teeth.

Forget her, dude! Just get the hell
outta there!

He got to work. He dragged Drake over to
the rug and dumped him down onto the edge of it. He then proceeded to roll him
over just like back in the house. Once he was rolled up like a Swiss roll and
snug as a frickin’ bug, he bent down, picked him up again, and hitched him up
onto his shoulder. He didn’t even look back to see if Gramma was still watching
him.

She’s probably on the phone to cops by
now anyway, buddy...

Stop thinking like that!

He got going down the alley, staggering
under the weight and pain, grit and bits of broken glass snapping beneath his
sneakers. He headed for the end of the alley. From there, he needed to turn
into the side alley that led back out onto the street where 1428 was located.
He moved past derelict dumpsters, old shopping carts, abandoned kitchen
appliances; ovens, refrigerators, and the like. The whole alley was like one
big junkyard. It offered good cover. Anyone seeing him would just think he was
adding a beaten rug to all the other crap. He didn’t have to worry about that;
the place was quiet as a morgue.

The end of the alley came in sight and he
upped his pace.

He grinned.
Almost there. Almost there,
buddy!

Excitement
began to
usurp any pain; his breathing became hot and frantic. He tripped on a bump in
the concrete. He veered off to the left, reaching out to steady himself on a
pock-marked wall. He didn’t wanna fall and injure himself at this late stage in
the game. He steadied himself and got going again, this time at a steady, even
pace. He reached the end of the alley. He looked left. He could see sidewalk at
the end of the side alley. And that’s where he headed. He put his head down,
not wanting to draw attention to himself.

I seriously hope no one can see this
bastard wrapped up in this rug.

Relax. Have faith. Just a little…

He reached the end of the side alley and
finally, finally, his sneakers touched sidewalk. Something he never thought
could feel so good. He breathed a sigh of relief, then took a look up the
street. In the distance, he could see the garage forecourt, his battered Ford
sitting there waiting for him. He smiled. I’m coming for you, baby...

His eyes then focused in on the front yard
of 1428. There they were. Sitting there. Watching the street. He still had to
get past them before he could get to his car. The good thing was that they
still hadn’t checked in on Drake. If they had, they’d be scouting the area for
sure. So seeing their profiles siting there, catching rays gave him the small
boost he needed to make it past them.

He looked both ways; the street was still
quiet. He nodded.
Let’s go, buddy...

He composed himself, then set off on the
final leg of his mission. He crossed the street first, wanting to put as much
distance between himself and the guards as possible. Besides, he didn’t think
his heart would survive walking straight past them both...

He walked at a faster than average speed,
wanting to get to his car quickly, but not too fast that he looked out of the
ordinary. He was just some guy carrying a rug home from the store, that’s all.
Just a normal guy. Just going home.
So look the other way.

He brushed past the trash in the street,
getting hit with blasts of paranoia. He felt exposed as if a million eyes were
on him. He could see wrinkled faces in dirty windows pointing at him. ‘Look,
everyone, there’s a man with a dead vampire on his shoulder. Call the cops!’
Butterflies floated freely in his belly.
Comeon, comeon, comeon, keep it
cool!
He soldiered on, every step closer to safety. He hit the sidewalk
again and turned to the left. The rug was on his left shoulder, meaning it
obscured his face from the guards. On the one hand that was good, meant they
wouldn’t be able to read anything on his face like terror or paranoia. On the
other, it meant he couldn’t see them. Couldn’t see if they snuck up on him...

Stop thinking that stuff, buddy!

He puffed his chest out as best he could,
trying to look natural, nonchalant, easygoing even though he felt like he was
being watched under a microscope, or like he was completely naked and people
were lined up, gawking at him. He was sure he’d reached level with the front
yard of 1428; he swore he could feel their eyes on him.

Look the other way,
he urged.
The other way. Hey, isn’t that Michael Jordan over
there?

He put his head down, staring at his
sneakers, Drake riding with him on his shoulder. He prayed that he was still as
snug as a bug in his rug and not about to give the game away.

Just get past them and we’re in the
clear, buddy. This ain’t nothing, just a stroll in the park, that’s all. Just
treat it the same as that. They don’t know shit and they won’t find out shit
either!

He knew he was now going past 1428 and he
couldn’t turn back. This was it. He made sure to keep his head down, not to
give them a hint that he was even aware of them both sitting there. He kept his
mind focused on his car, just forty, fifty yards away. The sound of the crows
punctuating the silence became his friend and he listened to it, concentrating
on it and not those two in the deckchairs. Those butterflies whipped up again
and began fluttering like crazy in his belly.
Keep cool. Keep cool.
He
could feel their eyes on him. Feel their stares burning into him like x-ray
vision. They’d be looking right at him, right now. Wondering who he was and why
he was carrying that rug on his shoulder. They’ll know straight away it was the
rug from upstairs, the one they most likely laid down.
‘Why’s it on this
guy’s shoulder?’
they’ll ask.
‘And what was that wrapped in it?’

A loud caw cut through the air and Dom
flinched. His heart leapt up into his mouth and his feet screamed ‘run’.

Keep it cool, they don’t know shit!

Silence took over again. It was just one of
those damn crows flying overhead.

He managed to resist the temptation to run
and instead hitched Drake up again, his mind itching him to turn and check the
guards; make sure they weren’t looking at him, just to put him at rest. But
that would give him away. It would destroy everything. Even just a glance. He
strained to keep his pace even, feeling their eyes burning into his side,
hearing every one of their negative thoughts aimed right at him.
They know.
They know everything.

They don’t know shit!

His heart was thudding against his ribs one
second, then he could taste it in his dry throat the next. Bile was shooting up
and down from the bottom of his stomach. He wanted to collapse.

Hold it! Almost there.

He took another few steps on jelly legs; he
could see the garage forecourt was near, meaning he’d likely passed 1428.

Almost there. Almost there.

Straight away, his heart began to ease, his
paranoid thoughts melting like ice in the desert.

Almost there...

He didn’t dare look back. Instead he looked
straight at the garage, and more specifically, his car. It was now just a few
meters away. He wiped his clammy face and allowed himself a smile. Almost
there. His heart began to flutter.