Fanghunters (9 page)

Dom watched him with baited breath.
Please
make them darts work. Please make them work!
his mind gibbered.
PLEASE
MAKE THEM WORK!

The vamp turned his head to the side. Dom
watched his jaw open up again, locking eyes on the terror of those gleaming
fangs. The vamp slowly turned back to face him, his teeth bared and ready.
Dom’s heart sank. The strength had left him, and he knew at any moment those
teeth would be plunging into his neck,
cause guess what, buddy? Yeah, those
darts just don’t work. They’re duds. She scammed you, and you believed her...

His chest locked tight, fear assaulting
every part of him.
Please no, please no...

He watched helpless as the vamp titled his
head back, that mouth cavernous and ready to strike like the open jaws of an
attacking cobra.

But it never came.

From somewhere, Dom felt the buildup of
tremors. His eyes rolled around in confusion as the vamp’s limbs began to
mildly vibrate. Dom watched in confusion as the vamp’s face started to shake
and tremble; it was like he were experiencing some kind of inner earthquake.
His jaw shuddered, a nasty guttural noise chugging out from his throat with
every quiver. Dom slunk back in repulsion. The vamp continued to tremor, his
grip on Dom suddenly loosening. Dom seized the opportunity. He pushed the vamp
away with all his might. The vamp flew through the air like he was a toy. He
bounced across the floorboards, the bodily vibrations growing with every
passing second.

Dom rolled away to the side, got up on his
elbows and watched on. 

The vamp was now convulsing on the
floorboards as if they were electrically charged. His fangs juddered together;
a nasty clacking sound echoed through the room. His hands shot into the air,
his fingers curling into claws. A hot, pain-riddled screech shot from his mouth
that sounded to Dom like cats serenading in Hell. He shrunk back in fear
against what he was seeing and hearing, not really knowing what he was
witnessing.

He glanced down at his hand to see the dart
gun still in his grip. Then it became clear. The chick with the green eyes
hadn’t let him down.

The darts worked.

He looked back at the vamp. He was now
spasming heavily, that nasty screech ongoing.
What’s going on with him?
Dom asked himself.

Before he could come up with an answer, the
vamp’s back straightened; it came off the floorboards with the flexibility of a
gymnast. Everything went rigid. The screeching stopped. And then he came
crashing back to the floorboards.

Everything then went calm. Silent.

The buzzing in Dom’s spine abruptly shut off
like the music at the end of a party.

Dom kept his eyes on the vamp’s motionless
body, wary of it springing back into life. It lay where it was. Unmoving and
hopefully dead.

Dom caught his breath.
What the hell
just happened?

Holy water, buddy. She told you.

“Jesus Christ,” he groaned in exhaustion,
his head flopping back onto the floorboards. Terrified excitement juddered
through him like he’d just come off a fairground ride. His chest heaved.

Man, that was intense...
he thought to himself between heavy breaths.

It ain’t over yet, buddy,
a voice piped up in his mind.
You still gotta get him outta
here...

Dom rolled his eyes to the side to meet the
dead vamp sprawled on the floor.

He grabbed his forehead. “Oh, man...” he
groaned.

Dom got to his feet straight away. He
knew he didn’t have much time before the guards got back to their posts.
He
had to get the body to his car, then over to Beauchamp’s for him to
see that the vamp was actually dead. If he didn’t, he might hold back on his
ransom. And Dom couldn’t afford to risk that. But, something else then came up.
He just now remembered that his car was parked in that garage across the
street.

He grabbed his forehead. I haven’t planned
this well at all.
How am I gonna carry a body across street to the trunk of
my car without risking anyone seeing?

    Then it hit him like a fully charged
stun gun.

    The rug on the upstairs landing.

    He could wrap Dracula up in that, so if
a car rushed by him or someone walked past on the sidewalk, at first glance,
they’d just see some guy carrying a rug on his shoulder. Even if they did think
of looking twice, the body would be nicely hidden from view.

Good idea, buddy, now get going before tweedledum
and tweedledee come back.

He stuffed his dart gun in his belt and
before leaving the room. There was enough light spilling out of the room he was
just in to put the landing in gloom. He could make out the stairwell, where the
rug was. He went straight for it, no longer concerned by the noise the
floorboards made. The house had been cleared. Another good thing was that the
annoying tingling up and down his spine had stopped. That made things easier.
He reached the rug. Before he picked it up, he poked his head down the
stairwell. Sleeping Beauty was still catching Z’s. Nice. He turned back,
grabbed the edge of the rug and rolled it up. He grabbed it and then took it
back to the vampire’s bedroom. Once in there, he slung the rug down next to his
dead body. It hit the floorboards with a
thwump!
Dust was sent raining
all over the vamp. Dom then unraveled the rug. The two lay next to one another,
one waiting for the other.

Your carriage awaits...

The vamp’s dead face stared up at him as
Dom went and stood over him. His eyes were black, like the eyes of a shark.
They totally lacked that ‘icing’ glimmer. They looked freaky; nasty. Dom
shivered. He went to pick him up but felt repulsed; he didn’t wanna lay a
finger on him.

Come on, buddy. You gotta get that body
in that rug and over to Beauchamp’s. Now, stop pussying out and pick him up!

Dom swallowed, even though his mouth was
dry. He swiped his forehead with the back of his hand. He composed himself,
then reached down and grabbed the vamp under the armpits. He groaned. It felt
horrible; heavy, cold like a joint of meat ready for the barbeque. He looked
away in disgust, nausea suddenly rising in the pit of his stomach.

Am I actually lugging around a dead
body?

Yeah, you are, bud!

I think I’m gonna throw up.

He glanced down; the vamp’s head lolled
back and his dead, blank eyes stared up at him. Dom immediately turned away,
not wanting to stare into those dead eyes. His nausea got worse; it was like
picking up a dead rat. His stomach churned.

Get it together, buddy!

He became still and repeatedly puffed his
cheeks while he waited for his nausea to pass. He tried to make his mind go
blank, forget about the body in his grip. He closed his eyes.
Okay, buddy.
On three.

One.

Two.

Three.

He opened up his eyes again and lifted. The
body came away from the floor. Dom stood upright, the bare heels of the vamp
the only thing now touching the floorboards. He was surprisingly light
considering how tough he was. Dom wasn’t about to question that; the lighter,
the better.

He turned his head to the side, his eyes
fixed on the rug. He headed for it, dragging the body over. The whole time he
had a creepy feeling that the body was gonna come to life in his hands. It
triggered that nausea again.

Don’t think about crap like that! Just
get him on that rug!

He yanked the body across; his heels now
touched the rug. He dropped him. He fell in a heap across the rug, arms
splayed. Dom caught his breath. He looked down at his hands in disgust. They
were dirty, sweaty. He wiped them on his pants, feeling like he’d caught some
kind of disease. He looked down. The vamp in the robe was sprawled across the
rug. He went and neatened him up; shoved his legs across, brought his arms
down. He even crossed them over his chest so he resembled an Egyptian mummy. He
nodded. Now he just had to roll him up.

He bent down, grabbed the edge of the rug
and lifted it up the side of the body. He then grabbed it from below and
pushed. At first it wouldn’t go, so he applied more pressure, his teeth
clenched. Slowly, the body lifted up onto its side. He put more into it, and
finally, he hit that sweet spot. The vamp and the rug began rolling away,
momentum taking them across the floor. Dom got on his haunches and helped it
along, rolling it over and over. The body wrapped nice and tight inside it as
it rolled. He ran out of rug to roll; the loose flap came out on top. Dom
trapped it and bought everything to a stop. Job done.

Good work, buddy.

Dom let out a satisfied sigh and dusted his
hands. He grinned to himself. The body was nicely concealed inside. The top of
his head was still visible, but as his hair was black and the rug was a very
dark color itself it wasn’t so easy to spot. When he went over and checked the
other end. Luckily, the rug was just the right size; you could only see the soles
of his feet if you looked really closely...

Dom thanked his lucky stars for the rug
being there. Without it, the next and final part of the job would’ve been much
harder.
Snug as a bug in a rug.

He shivered.

He checked the time again: 1:54. He should
still be okay to get out before they came back. He smiled. After a hairy start,
things worked out okay in the end.

He stood astride the rolled-up rug and put
an arm round each side of it, getting it in a bear hug. He steadied himself,
then heaved it up with a groan and stood upright, the whole thing coming with
him. He gave himself a second to catch his breath while preparing for the
second part of the lift. When ready, he flipped it up onto his shoulder in one
smooth motion. He teetered this way and that for a second or two while he
adjusted to the new load.

Easy, buddy!

He managed to steady himself, his free hand
held out to the side. He gave himself a confident nod; the rug and its contents
were pretty easy to handle from there. Now it was time to leave. He plucked his
Zippo from his pocket, sparked her up, then headed slowly back out to the
corridor and toward the stairs, the package safely on his shoulder. On reaching
the stairs, he slowly began to make his way down them, being extra careful to
plant a solid foot on every step. When he eventually reached Sleeping Beauty,
he eased carefully past him, doing everything possible to keep his balance. He
still slept like a baby. Once that hurdle had been negotiated and he was back
in the entrance hall, he stopped, and then slowly placed the rug down onto the
floorboards so he could rest for a second. He placed his hands on his knees and
exhaled.

Man, that was tiring.

Don’t worry, buddy. You only gotta go
across the street now...

He groaned under his breath. He then
grabbed his jacket from the floor where he’d left it when he first came in. He
put it on and zipped it up. He dusted it down.
Just a regular Joe, carrying
a rug to his car. That’s all I am.

He was pretty confident he could get away
with a quick glance. A twinge of excitement suddenly flittered through him.
I
might just get away with this! What a mastermind!

Now reenergized, he hopped over to the
package and picked it up once more, hoisting it back up on his shoulder. He
steadied himself, then went to leave. He grabbed the metal sheet/door to pull
it away. An abrupt voice outside stopped him dead in his tracks. His eyes
widened.

“There it is!”

Dom froze his ears pricking.

“In the deckchair like last time, huh?”
came another voice.

“Yeah, it must’ve fallen out my pocket.
It’s these frickin’ jeans, man. The pockets probably got holes in em.”

“It ain’t the jeans that’s got the
holes, dude; it’s your brain!”

They stopped talking for a second. Then:

“Shall we check on Drake?”

Dom instantly reached down with his free
hand and grabbed the rubber mallet he still carried in his belt. He lifted it
up by the side of his face, his chest tightening. If they came in, he would
have to fight. He’d have no choice.

“Check on Drake? Why?”

“Dunno. Got a weird feeling. Can’t
explain it but something ain’t right.”

Dom’s eyes bulged in alarm, his heart
shooting up to his throat.

“You’re imagining
things, man. Nothing’s wrong. Marlon can handle any trouble.”

“Yeah, I suppose you’re right...”

A sigh of relief bolted from Dom’s chest.
He put away his mallet. He wiped the sweat now dripping off his forehead with
the back of his hand. He gave them a few seconds to start talking again, but
they didn’t. Only the odd caw of a crow could be heard. He turned his attention
back to the unconscious guy on the ground. Marlon. At least he now knew for
sure that there really were three guards. That and the vamp’s name was...
Drake. He rolled his eyes to the side to be met with the rug on his shoulder (Snug
as a bug in a rug!).

“Nice to meet your acquaintance, Drakey
boy!”
he whispered to it.

He took a small sidestep and eased his neck
around the edge of the metal shutter. Through the crack, he could see the two
assholes now sitting in their deckchairs again.

He huffed. They came back early... The
first time in four frickin’ days, they decide to come back early. Today of all
days!
Why? Maccy D’s out of Double Quarter Pounders?
His mind began to
work hard, making his head hurt. He couldn’t walk out the front now, not with
them sitting there. Yeah, he could just imagine walking past them with the rug
on his shoulder, giving them a wave and a story about him being the ‘removals
service’ they’d called for earlier. No way; he needed another way out. He stared
up the stairs and instantly shook his head. Where would he go once he got back
up there? He sighed as he scanned the corridor.

His eyes fell on the kitchen.

There had to be a back door in there; one
leading to a back yard that he could hit the street from. He nodded; it was his
only choice.
But what if the back door’s blocked up like the front windows?
Well,
he’d just have to pray...

He didn’t waste another second. He got
moving through the hallway with quick, but quiet footsteps until he entered the
gloomy kitchen. He went past an old fridge that smelt funky, bare cupboards,
and a sink full of dirty, broken dishes. When he reached the end of the
kitchen, his Zippo lit up a door. The windows had been nailed over with pieces
of wood to keep the sunlight out. He put his lighter away and then reached for
the handle, briefly closing his eyes and praying for it to be unlocked. He
turned the handle. It clicked in his hand. The door came open, a glorious
sliver of light shining through. Relief shot through him. He swung the door
open fully; it went with a creak. Dom allowed himself a chuckle; maybe his luck
was turning...

He stepped through the doorway. The air
outside was so fresh compared to the house it was almost like breathing for the
first time again. He closed his eyes for a second or two and took it in,
enjoying the sense of freedom, relieved to be out of the confines of the house.
He was nearly in the clear...

He opened his eyes and took a look around,
a faint smile now on his face. When he did, the mild euphoria he’d been feeling
instantly crashed and burned.

The back yard was a neglected jungle of
weeds and grass.

From his position on the porch, he could
see nothing but a wall of tall pampas grass. It felt like being in the
Land
of the Giants
. He tiptoed to get a peek at the neighboring yards, only to
see similar scenes on
both
sides; he couldn’t even see where any of the
yards ended as the grass was too tall. As a result, he had no idea how far away
they stretched.

He huffed. “How the hell am I gonna get
through this?” he snapped to himself in a hoarse whisper. “Any ideas, Drake?”

Drake didn’t answer.

The only implement Dom had that could be of
any use was that metal stake from Home Depot. He groaned; it would have to do.

He pulled it from his belt, hitched Drake
up further on his shoulder, then took the crumbling concrete steps down into
the jungle. He stopped and stood ahead of it all; the aroma of grass flooded
his nostrils. He breathed in, tightened his grip on the stake, and then began
hacking away at the long grass with long strokes. Luckily it was weak; it bent
and moved to the sides, creating a big enough space for him to enter. He was
like Moses parting the Red Sea; well, maybe not as dramatic, but something
like
that.