Blood Red

“Okay, that one was harder to kill.”

Danny looked at him and nodded. He was looking a little like he wanted to wake up from this bad dream. On the ground nearby, the little girl was staring at the ruin of Avery Tripp with horrified fascination.

Boyd looked around. The third member of the Tripp family was missing.

He walked across the street to pick up his other pistol. It still had a few rounds left and he was growing very fond of the holes the glazer bullets made in whatever they hit.

In the distance but coming their way at high speed, they heard the sound of police cruisers. Boyd had never been very fond of the sirens before, but they were sounding like sweet music as he started to reload his weapons.

“He broke my shotgun, Richie.”

“Be fair, Danny. You did that yourself.”

“I didn’t think his fuckin’ head would be so hard.”

“Well, we’ll buy you a new one.”

“Promise?”

“Have I ever lied to you about a thing like that?”

Danny looked at him and grinned. “You lie to me all the time, Richie.”

“I wanna go home!” Their new friend, the little lost kid, was starting to freak out. He made a silent prayer that her home was still there and occupied by loving parents.

“Where did the little missus get off to?” Danny was frowning.

“Back off, Danny Boy, she’s married.” He knew he’d made a mistake as soon as he said the words.

“And how has that stopped you and Whalen?”

“Again with the damned Whalen comments!”

Danny grinned and the three of them looked around as the first of the state troopers pulled up.

Boyd and Danny pulled their badges. Jayce just sat where she was and crossed her arms petulantly. She didn’t have a badge, so Boyd couldn’t really blame her.

The trooper climbed out of his vehicle. He was a tall drink of water with a face made for intimidation. “What in the name of God has been going on in this town?” His voice was better suited to Pee Wee Herman, but Boyd was glad to have another cop or fifty show up. He really wasn’t that picky at this point.

“Wish I could tell you. So far we got a bunch of dead people that won’t stay dead and a lot more people dying.” Boyd shook his head.

The trooper looked at the headless body of Alan Tripp, which was currently twitching and clenching its hands again and again. “The fog out here has been causing a lot of troubles. We’ve got a ten-car pileup on the interstate and more reports coming in. Jesus on a pogo stick, half the roads in this town are shut down.”

The other two state troopers were climbing out of their vehicles now and looking around with shocked expressions on their faces. One of them walked over to the closest fire truck and climbed into the driver’s seat to turn off the flashing lights. Boyd was grateful. The damned things kept his eyes from adjusting to the darkness.

“So.” Pee Wee Herman looked around and scratched at the back of his neck. “What can we do?”

“We’re looking for a man named Jason Soulis. He’s supposed to have the skinny on what the fuck is going on.”

“I’m right here, Detective Boyd. What can I do for you?”

Soulis came walking out of the fog behind the last of the trooper cars, a smile playing at his lips. Boyd did an admirable job of not pissing his pants if he did say so himself.

The trooper closest to him reached for cuffs.

Soulis walked past him as if he weren’t even there and headed for Boyd.

“Speak up, man. What is it you want from me?”

“Answers would be a good starting place.”

“Fine. They’re vampires. There are a lot of them.” He shrugged. “Is there anything else I can help you with? If not, I have business to attend to.”

“Did you make this happen?”

“Yes, actually, I did.”

Boyd didn’t like the way the conversation was going. He shook his head. “Why don’t you come along with us, Mister Soulis? We need to figure out a way to stop this shit and right now.”

“I really don’t have the time or the inclination.” He looked bored with the entire thing and Boyd ground his teeth together.

“I don’t fucken care what you have time for, you sick fuck. Make this stop.”

“No.”

“Then you give me one good reason not to blow your goddamned head off.”

Soulis looked over his shoulder just as the troopers were coming toward him. One look and all three men stopped in their tracks, their faces showing uncertainty.

“I like you, Detective Boyd. Why don’t you go home and get some rest?”

“Say what?”

“Go home. Get a good night’s sleep. Things will look better in the morning.”

“I have dead kids in the streets, you sick fucken bastard. Nothing’s gonna look better in the morning.” He felt the hairs on his neck starting to rise, not with a fear reaction—something he knew very well—but with a charge of static.

“Detective, I’m tired and I have no desire to hurt you or anyone else at the current time, but I will.” Soulis looked at him, pinned him with his gaze, that half smile still on his lips.

“This isn’t going to go the way you want it to, Soulis.”

“No?” Soulis closed his eyes and the sky opened up. Rain came down in heavy sheets. From nowhere the devastating downpour soaked everyone in an instant.