Bent Arrow, page 4
"Haha, what you on about? And hurry up. Grunge may be stupid, but he might be awake, so get a move on and jump."
"If I do," she said cautiously, the trousers will think I like it, then they'll have me jumping about all over the place and I won't get a minute's peace. So haul me up."
"Nah, my arms are too tired. And my leg still hurts from the arrow."
"Your leg hurts!? What about me? You shot me in the bum."
"You shot me in the leg. On purpose. Mine was an accident. Just jump."
Aunty frowned but crouched down awkwardly then launched upward like a rocket made by a very clever Chinese man who'd dedicated his life to making his inventions go straight up very fast indeed. She even made a noise like a rocket, a cross between a scream and a bang.
All went well while she rose, not so great as she came down with all the speed you'd expect. Aunty landed in a pile of crap in the tiny backyard, and boy did I hear about it. Although, at least she had the sense to whisper as she called me names no lady should utter. Good job she was no lady.
I helped her out of the filth and Aunty stood on the cracked paving slabs looking like something the cat had dragged in. And the cat had eviscerated it. She was not a happy bunny.
"Use some of your magic. Your voodoo," I suggested. "You know, wave your hand and tidy yourself up. Like you did before."
Aunty's nose twitched, her eye spasmed, before she tilted her head to the side a little.
"What?"
"I can't do that. What are you on about?"
"You can, course you can. You know, you kind of rub your hands down your body and then ta-da, you're clean and sparkly. You've done it loads."
"Spencer, I am a witch of sorts, although you know I don't like to be labeled, and I can travel Paths, find powerful ley lines, do other cool stuff, but I cannot harness magic in that way. I have never been able to do that, and I never will."
"You sure? I was positive I'd seen you do it loads."
"Um, don't think so." Aunty pondered for a minute then slapped me on the shoulder. "Idiot! You had me wondering then."
"I'm pretty sure you can," I told her. "Maybe just give it a go and see what happens. What's the worst that could happen?"
"I look like an idiot and you laugh at me?"
"Haha. Me? Don't be daft. Go on, I'm sure you can."
Aunty sighed, then focused and ran her hands down her body. Nothing happened. She looked kinda disappointed.
"Oh well. Guess I was wrong." I whistled softy as I headed to the knackered back door of the terraced nightmare we were about to enter.
Something soft and wet hit the back of my head. I didn't turn around though. Cool dudes stay cool. Besides, I knew Aunty would clobber me.
Instead, I focused on the door and then on myself. Essence was there, nestling deep inside me like a sleeping tiger ready to awaken and pounce, but as I learned how to control this thing we call magic, I knew that it had to be nudged carefully and with respect, not forced to surge uncontrollably if I wanted any finesse. This called for a gentle touch so I let the Essence rise dreamily, and with a sigh it awoke. My fingers tingled, sparks flew from the tips, and I readied to blast the door just enough to fry the lock and get us inside without too much noise.
A hand reached out from behind me and turned the handle. The door swung inward. Aunty chuckled in my ear.
Again, I didn't turn around, just nodded, like it had been the plan all along.
I was forced back a half step by the stench of rot rushing through the door as though it couldn't wait to escape the fetid interior. With a final gulp of clean air as I turned my head away, I steeled myself for what we would find and entered the lair of Grunge, probably the most stupid, yet somehow elusive, vampire I have ever had the misfortune to encounter.
Aunty grabbed the back of my belt and hitched a ride forward. Guess she wasn't feeling her most confident.
Can't blame her. The stench was one we were both all too familiar with. The smell of rotting meat. I doubted he'd left the sausages out of the fridge too long.
No, this dude had been collecting corpses, human ones, and by the looks of it, it had been going on for quite some time.
Gross-Fest
The back door led directly into the kitchen, if you could call it that. Grunge wasn't big on cooking, but the room had suffered plenty of use. The sink was full of congealed blood with flies aplenty stuck in the gelatinous mess. The counter was stained and swarming with maggots feasting on gobbets of rancid flesh. The checkered floor was sticky like pubs from the olden days, and this was as good as it got. The hallway was worse, with holes in the walls, flaking paint, piles of plaster, and enough claw marks running down the walls to make you know this was not somewhere you ever got out of alive if you were a Normal.
But we weren't Normal. We were Freaks, Odd Ones, and even though we were rather disconcerted, it wouldn't stop us. No, animals like this were the ones who needed stopping, but normally we wouldn't go near vamps unless there was good reason.
They stuck together, or mostly, although there were so many factions you never knew who would be glad a vamp was dead and who'd be after your blood. But their unpredictability, plus their powers, meant they were too dangerous and too numerous to think about ever eradicating because of the cold deeds they performed by their very nature.
Grunge was different. Aloof, a real loner, friendless, and all-round not nice guy. Nobody would miss him; everyone in the community would be pleased to see the back of his sorry ass. For once, we were doing the vampires a solid. Not that we'd ever get any thanks for it.
But the question remained. Was he really so stupid as to be home?
We padded down the hall, trying not to step in anything too vile, which was impossible as it was covered in limbs, and there was a head stuck onto the newel post, which had certainly seen better days. Pissed-off light nevertheless made an effort and cast a grubby glow through the glazed front door just enough to see the nasty stuff, then we reached the front of the house and turned right to the front room.
The room was so messed-up it would have made Hanna proud. Bodies were piled so high anyone wanting to get in or out had to clamber over them. Aunty and I gagged, and I thought I would throw up but managed to control the urge. The room was lit by a single bulb hanging by frayed wires from the ceiling, yellow and caked in cobwebs. The window had a thick blanket tacked up and there was a battered brown sofa with a fresh corpse of a woman I am sure must have been pretty several hours ago. Now less so, what with the gaping wound at her neck, the torn clothes, and the beating that had been so vicious her eye was hanging down to her cheek and her teeth were smashed.
Grunge was fast asleep next to her with his arm around her shoulder, head resting on her chest. On the side table next to him were several of the woman's fingers and a ton of empty Vamp2 vials. This guy obviously couldn't get enough of the stuff and was about as addicted as any vamp could be.
I motioned for Aunty to wait at the door; she acknowledged with a grateful nod. I stepped cautiously into the room and tried to navigate the bodies but it was so futile I resorted to clambering over them where I had to, saying a silent sorry to the poor souls who'd ended up meeting their demise in such a terrifying and despicable way.
Nevertheless, I was making good progress and was almost there when the silence was torn apart by a smash then a crunch then a shrill then a thud. I turned to find Aunty covering her mouth as she moved her foot away from a pile of vials and then stooped to pick up the head she'd knocked from the newel post.
"Spencer!" she screamed as she looked past me.
My head whipped around in time to see Grunge wide awake and just as wild of eye lunging for me with his teeth down, his bloodstained mouth almost at my neck. I twisted away and smacked him square on the nose as he sailed past, a satisfying crack my reward. But that doesn't stop a vampire, especially one who's just fed, even if the sun has risen. Grunge was on me in a flash, ripping at my jacket collar with his teeth then clawing at my face as I grabbed his head to hold him at bay.
"Do something," I yelled to Aunty as I kneed him in the nuts then scrambled away.
Damn, this guy was a bloody pest. I was seriously tempted to whip off my shades and explode his damn head, but then we wouldn't get paid and money is always nice. Helps you be miserable in comfort, like I've always said.
Grunge snarled as he slammed me either side of the head and snapped at my neck again. My ears rung and vision blurred but I managed to slip off the pile of corpses by being so ace and it wasn't an accident at all, and then I rolled over, hopped up onto the sofa, and kicked him in the face as he clawed after me.
"I mean do something now," I shouted to Aunty.
Next thing I knew, a severed head sailed through the air and clobbered me in the face.
"Sorry," she shouted.
"Not cool, Aunty, not cool at all."
"I'm going to eat you slow, but first I'm gonna eat her, and you're gonna watch," snarled Grunge, wild-eyed and already slavering.
"Nobody eats Aunty but me," I shouted back, then thought about it. I turned to Aunty and shook my head. She stared at me like I was very special indeed. "Sorry about that. Bit stressed."
Grunge turned and stomped over the bodies to go get Aunty, who panicked and threw a manly arm at him which he batted away without pause. He was already at the door and would take her out in a moment so I shouted, "Trousers," and hoped that was enough.
Aunty looked at me blankly, but Grunge turned at my outburst and shouted, "What you fucking on about?" so I did the only thing I could think of and let the Essence surface, uncontrolled.
It burst from my fingers with the force of blood from a sliced artery. Angry red energy lit up the room for a moment as it tore at Grunge, wrapping around his body like barbed wire around a panicked, trapped sheep. He screamed as he tore at the magic, but that didn't work so he went for the old writhing-on-the-floor-whilst-howling trick instead.
Satisfied he was going nowhere, I calmed myself and allowed the energy to wane enough that it wouldn't kill him, and got back to him quick-smart. Aunty and I stood over Grunge and looked down on this pathetic creature that was once a man. He spat blood and cried as he soiled himself. Then he met my gaze and hissed, "I'm gonna kill you both."
"Not today, buddy, we got things to do," I said, before I booted him so hard in the head I dented his soul.
He was out cold, and would be for a minute or two if we were lucky, so we wasted no time.
Aunty trussed him up good and proper with specially strong zip ties woven with spells to ensure he couldn't break them, and I stuffed a gag in his mouth then taped it up for good measure before sticking a hood over his head, tying his ankles, and looping a rope around his neck.
Keen to be done and get out of this nightmare, we dragged him to the front door then managed to get it open with a little help from the Essence.
The street was quiet, my car was just around the corner, so thinking it best not to waste time we merely covered him in a sheet we had for just such emergencies, we called it the emergency sheet, and acting as casual as you can when dragging a comatose vampire down the street while everyone had their brekkie, we did just that.
At the car, and with still not a soul in sight, we bundled him into the boot, both punched him in the face just because he was such a bastard, then I slammed the boot shut and we got into the Freakmobile.
"When I say do something, please don't ever, and I mean ever, take that to mean please throw a manky head at my face," I told Aunty.
Aunty had the grace to look sheepish and then with a smile said, "Promise. This is the first and last time."
"You're forgetting that time we got the banker."
"Okay, this is the second, and definitely the last time."
"Thanks, Aunty. Appreciate it," I said with a smile, just so she didn't feel bad.
We drove away with a vampire banging away in the boot. Guess he was awake.
The Handover
We don't do exclusive, no one outfit that gives us most of our work, mainly because we don't get that much. We have always been diverse and selective with our clientele as you never want to rely on a sole income stream or source of cash. Better to ensure there are always options.
But we did have clients who gave us more work than others, and a very few who had been with us for quite some time through the ups and downs. Sometimes they were busy being brokers for bounties, other times they subbed work to us.
Grunge was one of those jobs where it was personal for them. He'd already been captured once by the company, and had managed to escape, and they grew so tired of him giving them the runaround they'd promised a prime price if we'd take the hassle off their hands and go get him. Then they'd hand him over to their clients and everyone was a winner. Apart from Grunge.
I parked up where I wasn't meant to, meaning on double yellow right out front of the office, then turned the engine off. All was silent for a moment, meaning Grunge must have either died, gone to sleep, or was somehow high. None of which would have surprised me. Aunty and I nodded to each other, then it was time for action.
We got out, I opened the boot, and Aunty readied with a gleaming knife just in case. Grunge was still, but I knew this ruse well enough. The mark thinks you'll relax your guard and when they sense you're near, or put your hands on them, they'll try to headbutt you or some such twattery.
"Grunge, just so you know, Aunty has a knife at your throat and it's very long and very sharp. It cuts through necks like butter. So stop pretending to be asleep, be a good boy, and if you try anything dickish then it's off with your head. Even vampires can't recover from decapitation." I nodded to Aunty who put the knife at his throat. Grunge snarled, "You guys are no fun. I'm still gonna kill you. You just wait."
"Like I said, we're busy today, and tomorrow you won't be any harm to anyone. Only yourself."
Aunty and I manhandled him out of the car, dragged him the short distance across the pavement, and I pushed open the door with my back as I pulled him headfirst inside the office.
Now, you may think that the workplace for bounty hunter middlemen would be all crappy with torn lino, overflowing filing cabinets, and dirty windows. You'd expect to see a fat man with sweaty armpits behind a beat-up desk, with an old-fashioned telephone. Maybe with his feet up, and a cigar in his mouth. Possibly a mug of tea next to a donut. You would be wrong.
This outfit was somewhat like Freaky Finders, although they subbed out a lot of their work to the likes of us. They were middlemen, trusted, so when people wanted other people captured, or recaptured, or something more sinister, they came to these guys. Safe in the knowledge it would be handled professionally, at least by them, and that the job would more than likely actually get done.
In other words, they earned a shed-load of cash, hardly ever had to get their hands dirty, and ran a very professional business.
"Welcome to The Grange," said Bonk, and yes, that's his real name.
I looked down at the familiar face and smiled. "Hey, Bonk, good to see you, dude. But you don't have to give us the spiel every time we come in. We have met, you know."
"I know that, Freaky Spencer, and hello, Aunty."
"Hi." Aunty waved.
"I also know," continued Bonk as he adjusted his tie, "that it is important to remain professional at all times."
"Absolutely," I agreed, beaming down at a man so short and youthful he was often mistaken for a child. But you mentioned it at your peril. Bonk was under three feet, had a gift that scared the bejesus out of me, and was a very handsome dude. Dark hair above sultry eyes, and manicured eyebrows on a face almost angelic yet rugged too. He wore an immaculate suit and a crisp white shirt with loafers, yet bizarrely made it look great. He was the front of house, the boss, and the powerhouse behind the business' rise to glory over many decades. In fact, more decades than you'd imagine. Bonk was not a young dude but had looked early forties for as long as I'd known him and as long as anyone else had known him. I'd seen him change once when he really got the hump, and I did not want to see it again.
The stories about him were numerous and wild, but I believed them. You did not mess with Bonk, and woe-betide anyone who brought up his stature as a negative, not that I ever would. He had a temper when displeased, and knowing what he could do when riled, I always did my best to ensure he remained at ease and happy with our work.
"So, why the fuck," he screamed, face turning puce, "is there a junkie vampire stinking out my office? And why the flaming fuckety-fuck did you drag him across the street and in through my front door? That's not cool, not cool at all. We have a reputation to uphold and foul vampires trussed up on my clean floor are not how we maintain that reputation."
Eek.
"Um, yeah, sorry about that," I said meekly. "He's been a bit of a handful, very slippery is this guy, and we wanted to make sure he was delivered as soon as we had him."
"I'm gonna kill you all," mumbled Grunge, who had somehow got free from his gag again. He must be bloody eating them or something.
"Shut up," we all chimed as we each booted him hard.
"Sorry, Bonk, we just wanted him delivered. It's still early, nobody saw, and you won't get any visitors this early will you?" asked Aunty.
"No, I will not," he replied as he clicked his fingers and the door locked and blinds rolled down to block the view of the office from outside.
"Neat trick," I told him.
Bonk sighed and glared at us both before retreating behind the counter and clomping up several steps until he was at a height more suited to dealing with average height humans. "It's not a trick. You know better than to say that, Spencer." Bonk glared at me, but he was just messing.
"Sorry again, Bonk, you know I know it's the real thing. Now, can we be done with this guy? We've got things to do. Heads to bash, vampires to smash. That kind of thing. Plus, I need breakfast."
"We had breakfast," Aunty reminded me.
"And I need another one. All this running around, using magic, it leaves me famished. Sleepy too." I stifled a yawn; this stuff really did take it out of me. I felt like it was bedtime, not still the morning.
