The Book of Death (12 page)

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Authors: Anonymous

Tags: #Western, #Thriller

BOOK: The Book of Death
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Beth was taken aback by the
suddenness of the suggestion. ‘What? Leave Santa Mondega altogether?’

‘Yeah. I only came back here for
you. Now that you have no ties to this place, there’s nothing to stop you and
me from moving away, starting a new life somewhere else. Somewhere with no
fucking vampires for starters.’

‘Really?’

‘Yeah. Unless you can think of a
good reason to stay?’

Beth loved the idea. Leaving
Santa Mondega and travelling the world seeing different places with JD had been
a distant dream less than twenty four hours ago, but now that dream could
become very real. ‘Well, when were you thinking of leaving?’ she asked.

‘No time like now.’

‘That would be great, but my
landlord needs four weeks notice before I move out.’

‘Fuck your landlord. You can’t
pay him if you’re in New Mexico.’

‘We’re going to New Mexico?’

‘We could do. We can go wherever
you want, babe. Anywhere’s better than here.’

‘That’s true enough.’

JD pulled the car over. They had
arrived at the apartment block Beth lived in. He stopped the car by the kerb
right outside the entrance and turned the engine off. He looked at her, his
face revealing he was deadly serious. ‘Yeah. Go pack up your clothes and
essentials and I’ll pick you up in an hour.’

‘What are you going to do?’

‘I’m gonna go get my
shit together then I’ll be back.’

He leaned over and kissed her on
the lips, a slow lingering kiss that made up her mind for her. ‘Come on, before
I change my mind,’ he said.

‘You sure? Really?’

‘Yeah.’

‘I’ll need more than an hour to
pack though.’

JD sighed. ‘What have you got
that you’re gonna need on the road? You can leave most of your stuff behind.
Just bring the basics and the sentimental stuff you can’t live without.’

Beth smiled and kissed him back.
‘I suppose, most of my furniture either belongs to the landlord or isn’t worth
much anyway.’

‘Great,’ said JD. ‘It’s agreed
then. Start packing straight away. No time to make coffee or watch TV right?
Just pack and let’s be gone within an hour.’

‘Okay. One hour.’

‘If you’re not ready when I get
here, I’m leaving without you.’

Beth reached into a
pocket on the front of her jeans and pulled out the small cloth he had given
her earlier that morning. ‘I’ve still got this, remember?’ she said, smiling.

JD’s eyes settled on
the cloth. His face revealed a look of sadness. It passed all too briefly,
replaced by a smile, but Beth had seen it and sensed something was wrong. ‘What
is it?’ she asked.

‘Nothing.’

‘Is there something
I should know about this cloth patch? You looked kind of sad then for a
second.’

He smiled. ‘It’s
okay. It’s kinda silly really. My brother Casper made it for me. He wasn’t too
great at making anything and he was real pleased with himself when he made
that.’

Beth unfolded the
cloth again and looked at the stitching on the letters JD. It was a little
amateurish, but knowing that it was of personal value added to its charm. ‘How
is your brother these days?’ she asked. ‘I never got to meet him, did I?’

‘He was murdered.’

‘Oh my God! I’m so
sorry. What happened?’

‘I’d rather not talk
about it. But that cloth, that’s the only thing I have to prove he ever
existed. Everything else is gone. No photos, nothing.’

Beth felt a lump in
her throat and was overwhelmed with guilt at having brought the subject up.
‘I’m so sorry,’ she said, glancing awkwardly at the cloth in her hands.

‘It’s okay,’ said
JD. He leaned over and stroked her cheek. ‘Now you know why I’ll always come
back to you if you’ve got that piece of cloth. Make sure you take good care of
it.’

‘I will, I promise.’

‘Good.’ He glanced
in the rear view mirror momentarily, as if he’d seen something moving behind
them. ‘Now hurry up. You’ve got one hour, remember.’

Beth opened the door
to get out of the car. ‘I’ll be ready,’ she said slipping the cloth patch back
in her pocket.

She stepped out into the sleet
and snow and slammed the car door shut behind her. Then she ran up the front
steps that led to her apartment block. Through the darkened skies she took a
long look up at the building she had lived in for the last eight months. It was
a drab, depressing six storey grey building. Not a place she would miss when
she left town. As the sleet lashed down against her face and hands she fumbled
around in her pocket for her keys. She pulled them out and held them up, waving
them towards JD’s car to let him know she had found them and was heading
inside. He obviously saw the gesture because he started up the engine on his
car. A second later she watched his V8 Interceptor pull away from the kerb and
cruise off down the road. She slipped the key in the lock on the front door of
the apartment block and turned it. Beneath the noise of the sleet crashing
against the windows, she barely heard the click as the door unlocked. She pushed
it open and stepped inside into the cold entrance hall.

It wasn’t the most inviting
entrance hall around. It had hardwood flooring and there was an old fashioned
stairway on the right with a dirty yellow carpet on it. The stairs were
extremely steep so she was never keen to use them because her apartment was all
the way up on the fourth floor. So even though the unreliable old elevator at
the end of the hall was a potential death trap, she headed over to it and
pressed the button.

After a thirty-second wait that
ate into the first minute of her one-hour packing time, the elevator arrived
and the doors parted. Inside was one of her fourth floor neighbours, an elderly
black man known as Jerry Rockwell. He was a smelly old drunken former cop in
his seventies who somehow managed to drink a bottle of whisky every day and
never feel any the worse for it. He just looked a day away from death all the
time. He had an unhealthy complexion to match the grey trousers and musty green
cardigan he was wearing. Beth actually quite liked Mr Rockwell in spite of his
faults because he was always polite and helpful, and as long as he’d been
drinking he was always in a good mood too.

‘Hi Mr Rockwell. How are you?’
she asked, running a hand through her hair to wipe out the sleet and snow. His
scruffy appearance had made her only too aware of her own suddenly.

‘Fine thank you, Brenda. Is it
still raining out?’

‘My name’s Beth.’

‘Whatever. Is it still raining?’

‘I’m afraid it’s worse than
that. It’s snow and hail stones.’

Rockwell stepped out of the
elevator and staggered past Beth out in to the hall corridor. He reeked of
booze. She watched him steady himself by pressing his hand against the wall as
he made his way to the front door.

‘You go easy, Mr Rockwell,’ she
called after him. ‘It’s very slippery out there. Might be best to stay home for
a while.’

‘I gotta stock up on whisky,’ he
called back. ‘Been waiting for it to stop raining all mornin’. Can’t wait no
more.’

‘It’s not raining, it’s
snowing.’

‘Whatever.’

Beth spotted the elevator doors
closing and quickly stuck her arm through the gap to prevent them from meeting.
The doors reopened and she stepped inside. She pressed the button for the
fourth floor and turned back to watch Rockwell walking slowly towards the front
door. As he reached the door he looked like he was falling over headfirst but
he somehow managed to grab a hold of the doorknob to hold himself up. He
twisted it and opened the door. It swung open with surprising force. Someone
had pushed it hard from the outside. The door caught Mr Rockwell full in the
face, knocking him to the ground. Beth was about to rush out to offer him some
help when she saw the person who had pushed open the door from the outside
appear in the doorway.

He was a giant of a man, soaked
through from the downpour outside. His most distinguishing feature was a long
pink streak of hair down the middle of his otherwise shaved head. After walking
through the door he looked down at Jerry Rockwell who was lying on the floor in
a daze.

‘You okay, old man?’ the hulking
figure asked.

Beth heard Rockwell respond with
something that sounded like, “I landed on my balls.” The man with the pink hair
leaned down to offer Rockwell some assistance before recoiling and holding his
nose.

‘Jeez, you fuckin’ stink,’ he
said, stepping back from the old man on the floor.

As the elevator doors began to
close the man looked over at Beth. Their eyes met for a second. She realised
that she recognised him as one of four military guys she’d seen in the Tapioca
on the previous night. A second later his eyes seemed to reveal that he
recognised her too. He started walking towards the elevator. Before he reached
it, the doors closed and it began moving upwards.

Beth had no idea why this man
was in her apartment block, but she didn’t like him and was glad he hadn’t made
it into the elevator with her.

 

 
 

Fifteen

 

Vanity had parted company with
Dante and Kacy shortly after the morning meeting at the Casa de Ville. They had
other business to attend to moving themselves into the Swamp. They had told him
that their clothes were still in a hotel room somewhere, so Vanity left them to
it and went out with Cleavage and Moose to try and find some new members of his
clan. Unfortunately he’d barely gotten started when he received a phone call
summoning him to the office of the great Rameses Gaius. He’d been told it was
urgent so there had not been time to change into a suit or anything smart to
impress the new boss, so he turned up in his jeans and his black leather Shades
jacket. This wasn’t likely to make a great impression.

He arrived at Gaius’s office
knowing that his days could well be numbered. He was head of the clan that had
been infiltrated by the Bourbon Kid. That wasn’t something that was going to
make him popular with the vampire hierarchy. Gaius had some serious anger
issues and Vanity might be about to feel the force of his wrath. He hoped he
would be given time to explain himself before Gaius passed sentence on him.
History had shown that the former ruler of Egypt was a merciless killer, one
who didn’t usually offer his victims the time to make their excuses before he
killed them. It was rumoured he could absorb and control energy sources,
granting him the power to expel such things as electricity from his hands.
Vanity was hoping not to be on the receiving end of a demonstration of any such
power.

Standing guard outside Gaius’s
office was one of the vampires from the Panda clan, a fairly decent looking
female with an athletic build. Vanity approached and did his best to look
confident.

‘Hi. I’ve been summoned to see
Rameses Gaius,’ he said.

The Panda girl’s expression gave
away nothing. ‘He’s expecting you. Go on in.’

‘Thanks.’ He took a deep breath.
He wondered if he looked as nervous as he felt. Before reaching for the door
handle he slipped his hand inside his jacket and pulled out a small hand
mirror. He pretended to check his reflection in it.

The Panda girl shook her head.
‘You’re a freak,’ she said, finally revealing a playful grin.

Vanity ignored her and continued
staring into the mirror, stroking his goatee and flicking his wavy dark hair
behind his ears. As a vampire he had no reflection, but the mirror gag always
went down well with the females.

‘Maybe you and I could have
dinner some time?’ he suggested, winking at the Panda girl.

She shook her head. ‘I couldn’t
go out with a man that carries a hand mirror around with him. You’re just too
vain.’

‘Don’t diss the mirror,’ said
Vanity, trying not to sound offended. ‘This thing’s an antique, handmade in
Egypt by a powerful witch doctor. It’s indestructible. Even your ugly
reflection couldn’t break it.’

Panda girl sighed. ‘If they cut
your head off while you’re in there, I’ll ask for it as a souvenir. Go on in,
you freak.’

He slipped his mirror back into
his pocket and reached for the door handle, adding one last comment as he
turned it. ‘I can see why you’ve got a pair of black eyes.’

Inside the office, Gaius was
sitting at his desk wearing the same sharp silver suit he had worn during his
rousing speech in the main hall earlier in the day. He was still wearing his
dark sunglasses too. His olive coloured skin gave no indication that he was a
fully paid up member of the undead. No creature of the night would normally
have a tan that healthy. Except maybe for Vanity who had never been one to
worry about applying a thin layer of fake tan.

‘Good day to you, Mr Gaius,’ he
said courteously, stepping inside the office. The Panda Girl pulled the door
shut behind him, making him jump inwardly.

‘Please take a seat,’ said Gaius
gesturing to a seat opposite him at the desk. Vanity sat down and took off his
sunglasses.

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