A Girl's Guide to Guns and Monsters (10 page)

Kate buried her face in my neck and started crying. I just stared, numb and dry-eyed, and tried to figure out what came next.

 

The cops never came, so I guess nobody heard the shots. We sat in the kitchen, my throbbing arm crusted with dried blood, and I drank a couple glasses of water. The puncture wounds were ragged, two on the top and two on the bottom, right in the meat of my forearm. There was bruising, too. Once I washed the blood off it looked like I’d slammed my arm in a car door or something.

Kate stared at the counter. Once in a while she’d pick at it with her fingernails. It took her a long time to say anything.

Finally, though, she raised her head. Her hair was lank with sweat, almost as dark as mine. “Do you think she’s dead?”

“Right now she is.” I took another gulp of water. “But when it gets dark . . . I dunno.”

“What are we going to
do
?”

A bolt of white- hot anger shot through my head. “Just hang
on
, Kate. I’m
thinking.
”

She shut up. I stared at the toothmarks on my bruised arm. The crease along my leg where the bullet had burned throbbed dully as well.

Hammering a dowel through Edgar’s chest was one thing. But Ms. Cooke . . . that was another thing entirely. I couldn’t count on Kate for that. It was her
mother
, for Chrissake.

And if Edgar wasn’t dead, maybe Kate’s mother would keep him busy for long enough to . . .

... to what?

“Do you want to . . . to do the same thing to her?” Kate whispered finally.

I took a good look at her. She was shaking, and there were big bruised circles under her eyes. Decided. “We’ll get cleaned up. Go back to my house.” I swallowed so hard my throat clicked, dry despite the tepid water. “Spend the night. In the morning we come back and see if either of them have moved. If they have we know how it works, how it happens. If they haven’t we go out, call the cops from a phone booth, and lie like hell. Say we were never here.”

She chewed at her lower lip. “What about the gun?”

“I don’t know.” I shifted back and forth on the stool, stared out the kitchen window at the overgrown back yard. Shadows ran over long grass and the window, the pines soughing as the evening breeze picked up. “I’d better take it home and put it back. If Dad swears it was in the safe . . .”

“They have ballistics.” But she subsided when I stared at her. “Sorry.”

Why was she fixated on
that
? We’d have bigger problems either way. “Dad will get a lawyer if he has to.” I stared at my arm. “I need something long-sleeved to cover this up. And a pair of jeans. If we can get into the house without my parents noticing us . . . we’ll just say we were walking around or something.”

As plans went, it sucked. But Jesus. What else could we do?

 

That night we lay in my bed, stiff as boards. I knew she was still awake, she knew I was, and we just . . . lay there. And sweated in the air-conditioned coolness of my house, while outside the night breathed.

In the darkest, deadest time of night, right around three AM, I heard a faint scratching, scrabbling noise. My arm gave a heavy, heated throb, and my head turned on the pillow.

The shadow in the window bobbed. Twin red sparks winked out, came back up.

“Sweetheart.”
A soft, sibilant whisper, audible even through the glass.
“Sweetheart, it’s Mommy.”

My heart gave a leap like it intended to jump out of my chest. Now we knew how it worked. Mostly.

I clapped my hand over Kate’s mouth before she could scream. “Shut up,” I whispered fiercely. “Shush.”

“It’s so warm and soft,”
Mrs. Cooke crooned.
“It is. Let me in.”

More scratches. Kate’s eyes rolled. She was no longer a board, she had turned to hot frantic flesh that hugged me tight. Her spit slicked my palm.

Waves of heat slid down my body. The bite on my forearm was hot and hard. Kate’s hair brushed it, and a scorch slid through me.

“Shhh,” I whispered. “It’s okay, Katie. It’s okay.”

She moaned against my palm. We held each other while her mother prowled outside, and after a little while the sounds went away. Kate hugged me, twitching.

I peeled my hand away from her mouth.

“Becca . . .” She shook, and we were both sweating again.

“Don’t worry.” My voice dropped into the dark. “It’s okay.” The punctures on my arm beat an invisible tattoo in the dark, nerves pulling on the bones. I could almost feel the infection spreading.

Maybe I should have let her pour peroxide on it. But then I’d miss how my teeth were tingling. And I’d miss Kate nuzzling at my throat. She made a little mewling sound as her fangs scraped my skin, and I jumped a little. She froze.

I wondered how long she’d be able to go out in the sunlight.

Probably just long enough.

“I’m so thirsty,” she whispered apologetically. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Katie.” My arms tightened around her. I tipped my chin up, cupped my hand at the back of her head. Guided her face into my throat again. “Don’t worry. I know what to do.”

 

“Good morning, sleepyhead!” Mom chirped. I tried to summon up a grin, scratching at the back of my neck under heavy hair. I really needed a trim. “I’m just about to go to the stylist’s. You’re a late bird!”

“Mmmh.” I spotted the coffeemaker. My throat was on fire, I blinked at the light falling through the kitchen window. “What’s for dinner?”

I didn’t care, but if she thought I’d be here, it was all to the good.

“Spaghetti bolognese!” Mom swept a hand back through her freshly washed hair. The morning sunlight was harsh. Even foundation couldn’t hide the deep cracks in her face. “Listen, Becky, did you hear anything last night?”

My heart about stopped in my chest. I covered it by stamping for the fridge and opening it up. Cold air bathed my feverish skin. “Nope. Other than Kate snoring. Why?”

“Your father swears he heard a prowler last night.”

My heart leapt up into my burning throat. I wished she’d go so I could pull the blinds. It was too goddamn bright in here, even though the sunlight dimmed. “Really?”

“I told him he was being ridiculous. But he swears. Be sure you keep the doors locked, okay?”

“I will.” I got out the orange juice and shut the fridge door. “We might go to the pool today.”

“It’s hot enough. They say there’ll be thunderstorms this afternoon, though. It’s already cloudy. Well,
ciao,
darling! You should get your hair cut, you know.”

Just like Mom. I muttered an agreement, and she pranced out.

As soon as the garage door closed and the sound of the Volvo’s engine faded, Kate peered around the corner into the kitchen. I rubbed at my throat. “She’s gone.” I didn’t have to work to sound tired. “Get ready to go.”

“Are you sure?” Blue eyes wide and luminous, she blinked furiously. I didn’t blame her, it was bright as hell in here. The sunshine dimmed still more as clouds moved across the bright sky.

“Of course I’m sure. Take a shower and put on something with long sleeves.” I thought about it for a second, then yanked the fridge open and dropped the OJ back in. “I’ll find us some shades.”

 

Edgar’s body was still a slimy, stinking mess. The dowel in his chest had been wrenched out, but Ms. Cooke was nowhere in sight. I didn’t stick around, just grabbed the car keys from the coffee table and headed back outside.

The Lincoln Continental’s interior smelled like baby powder. It started with a swift sweet purr and I backed out, nosed down the street to a patch of deep shade under a cedar tree. Kate was there, in a long-sleeved thermal shirt and jeans. The sunglasses were blank holes on her pale face. Behind my own shades my eyes stung furiously, and thunder rumbled in the distance. The weird green-yellow bruiselight of a storm approaching made the maroon paint on the car look diseased.

I popped the trunk and Kate piled our bags in. I leaned over to unlock the door, and a roll of cash in my right pocket dug into the inside crease of my hip. The rest of the money from the safe was in my purse, thrown on the floor in the back.

The gun was under the driver’s seat. I took the extra bullets too. You never know.

Kate dropped in and slammed the door, mopped at her sweating face. “Thirsty.” An angry red flush had crawled up her cheeks from the sunshine. But the windows were tinted, and the light didn’t hurt from in here, even when the clouds pulled back a little and the street melted under the weird flat illumination right before a storm really hits.

My throat was a furnace. It made my voice husky. “Me too. We’ll drive for a while. Tonight we’ll find something. To, um, drink.”

It stood to reason that soon we’d start sleeping during the day. Sleeping like the dead. I’d figure something out then. I was sure of it.

“You sure?” She rubbed her pale wrist against her jeans. Under the thermal’s cuff, the puncture wounds had vanished. The ones on my arm were closing up, and the ones on my throat looked days old instead of fresh. I’d tried a swallow of Coke this morning and almost threw up. I knew what I wanted, and I knew we’d find it.

“Yeah.” I reached over and grabbed her hand. She slid her fingers through mine. Even though we were both sweating, her fingers were marble- cold. Pretty soon mine would be too. “I’ve got it figured out.”

I didn’t
entirely,
not yet. But I had enough of it. Two girls, one as pretty as Kate? We wouldn’t have any trouble. We could get money if we needed it. And there were all sorts of things we could do without parents and school and all that shit.

“Becca?” She pushed her shades down a little, leaned over. Her mouth met mine, and the sharp edges of her fangs brushed my tongue. “I love you,” she said shyly, when she pulled away.

All of a sudden I couldn’t wait to stop for the night. I dropped the car into drive. It moved smoothly forward when I touched the gas, and I found out I could take my sunglasses off. Edgar had known what he was doing when he had the windows tinted.

I licked my lips. My teeth tingled, and I swiped my bangs out of my eyes. “I love you too, Kate.”

Soon I’d have fangs too.

I couldn’t wait.

 

 

 

M
y name is Elizabeth. I’m eight years old and I’ve already had an adventure.

My mommy and daddy tell me I shouldn’t think about it. They say that because they think it makes me scared when I do. But I don’t mind thinking about what happened. My Aunt Anna is the bravest person I know and she says I should always remember because we saved each other’s lives and that makes me as brave as she is.

Here’s how it happened.

My Uncle David was supposed to babysit me last Saturday while my mommy and daddy went to a party. But Uncle David has another new girlfriend and she wanted him to go with her to a party, and I guess spending the night with what my daddy calls a “hottie” was way better than spending the night with me.

Anyway, he sent another babysitter to take care of me. Her name is Anna Strong. She’s not really my aunt but I call her that because she likes it. She works with Uncle David. They’re cops, sort of. They go after guys who try to get away instead of going to trial. Daddy calls them bounty hunters. And he knows about stuff like that. He works in the District Attorney’s office.

I’ve met Aunt Anna before. Mommy was surprised when Uncle David said she would stay with me because she’s not really the babysitting type, (I’m not sure what that means since she’s always been nice to me) and that she must owe Uncle David a big favor. I didn’t know what that meant either.

So Aunt Anna came over with popcorn and Three Musketeers bars (my favorite) and two movies. She’s pretty but not like a movie star. She has light brown hair and green eyes. She was dressed the way she always is. Jeans, a T-shirt, a jacket she never takes off. Even in summer. Mommy says she must have poor circulation because she’s skinny and so she’s probably cold all the time. Daddy says she looks like a runner, lean and hard-muscled. He gets a funny smile when he talks about her that makes Mommy punch him in the arm.

Mommy and Daddy left for their party and we got ready to start the first movie.
Princess Bride
. Aunt Anna said it was her favorite movie but made me swear not to tell anyone—especially Uncle David.

I don’t think this counts.

Aunt Anna went into the kitchen to get us drinks. I heard her cell phone ring and she answered it so I put the movie in the TV and sat back on the couch to watch previews. I can’t do this when most adults are around—they use words like inappropriate and violent. Funny since when we watch “Animal Kingdom” there’s lots of stuff that goes on there that seems pretty inappropriate and violent to me.

The doorbell rang right in the middle of the first preview:
The Witches of Eastwick
. I stopped the DVD, listened for Aunt Anna to tell me she was going to answer it. I don’t think she heard it since I could still hear her talking on her phone.

So I did.

I’m not tall enough to look through the peephole. I asked, “Who is it?” through the door and a woman’s voice said, “A coworker of your dad’s. He left some papers at the office and asked me to bring them by.”

It’s happened before. I opened the door.

There was a man and a woman standing there. They were dressed all in black and had masks on their faces. The kind of masks you wear to ski when it’s really cold. The kind that cover your whole head and have holes for your eyes and mouth. I started to scream for Aunt Anna, but the woman grabbed me, put a hand over my mouth, and carried me inside.