Blood Donors (11 page)

I say
All these dead bodies that be gettin’ carried out regular as puttin’ out the rubbish – they all been sucked dry by the monster bugs
.

Oh yeah
Mus say, like I told him Man United beat Chelsea 2–1.

They come and suck you dry when you be asleep I say
.

Right
he answer me.

I see I got to prod this boy awake with a big stick.
Like vampires
.

Finally he got a serious look on his face. I ain’t sure whether it’s ’cos he shocked about the killings or excited ’cos I mentioned vampires. With Mus you jus’ can’t tell.

So we gon’ get ourselves some weaponry and we gon’ kill ourselves one of these Megabugs and then people believe. Then we get a crew together and we gon’ have ourselves a Bug War, yeah?

OK
he say. Jus’ like that.

We go knock-knockin’ on Sis’s door. Grab my dog on the way up. Big Auntie already upped sticks for a VIP Pow-Wow with the council men.

Sis say
Big Auntie been talkin’ to the police about what she callin’
contaminated heroin
.
She reckon
dirty smack
hittin’ the street and causin’ everybody to die like livin’ goin’ out of fashion
.

She give us a moment to absorb this news, and she fix me with her big warm eyes and say
So, boys, caught any big ones yet?

They didn’t show, did they? ’Cos they knew I was sittin’ there waitin’ to bust their bubbles with Mum’s fryin’ pan. They feasted on Sleepy Lady instead. You see them body-baggin’ her out?

Mus jus’ shrug and stroll out onto the balcony.

Sis nod. I know she considerin’ whether or not she believe me. Everybody else in the whole world say I got myself
behavioural issues
. Just another way of sayin’ I’m a nutjob. Sis don’t wanna be thinkin’ I’m no nutjob. She know what it’s like ’cos she been called worse in her time. She be thinkin’ it’s us what are the sane ones, rest of the world gone bonkers. Sis got an easy face to read, like Mustaph in that respect. Some days I look at them havin’ a whole conversation with each other, without sayin’ a word, jus’ their eyes passin’ vibes back and forth between each other like weird invisible tennis. Me, my mouth do all my talkin’ for me, and an excellent job it do of it – true.

Mustaph already stood stretched out on the balcony wall, doin’ his mornin’ greetin’ to the world, jus’ like Sis do. She hop up and join him, like that there wall be jus’ four feet off of the groun’, rather than four hundred feet. They standin’ tall, arms stretched to the clouds like Spider-Man and Spider-Lady ’bout to perform a show.

Wooo-hoooh!
go Sis, to the heavens.

Wooo-hoooh!
Mus answer her like little wolf brother. It make me dizzy jus’ watchin’ ’em.

I’m boilin’ up. If Mum had of believed me, maybe we could have saved Sleepy Lady. She didn’t have to die in the night, blood sucked by some vampire bug, get carted off in the wrong type of sleepin’ bag. If Compo had listened, maybe we could have saved Mr Bush too. Most important of all, we could have done somethin’ for them poor kids. I’m sick. I turn away. I see somethin’ make my blood freeze.

Don’t move
I mutter.

Ain’t goin’ nowhere
Sis answer.
Jus’ enjoyin’ my mornin’ stretch, oh yeah
.

I’m serious
I say.
Don’t move an inch
.

Straightaways, the two of ’em turn round and set their eyes right where my peepers be set. There be one evil monster starin’ straight back at us.

It’s perched there on the wall above Sis’s window, only a few feet away. Even though I been lookin’ for one of these suckers all night long, it still make me break into a sweat like a snowman in a heatwave.

Sis cooler than that. She break into a big, knowin’ grin and nod
Ah-haaa
like it be jus’ the confirmation she expectin’.
Well, you is certainly correct, isn’t you, Marshall the First?

We blink at the bug and it stare back at us, unflinchin’. Red-eyed.

Mustaph lookin’ at it all serene, like it some pretty butterfly landed on his hand.

I feel relief.

You think it gonna pounce?
asks Sis.

No
I answer.
That what I’m sayin’. They is sneaky. Wait until you sleepy, then suck you nice and easy
.

Sis shivers.
What we gon’ do?

Go get yo’ fry pan. Slow and smooth. Don’ scare it off. If it creep close enough, we splatter it, yeah?

I was right. I am not a nutjob. I am a sane boy. Other people see it now, with their own eyes. That be three of us. Soon it be a lot more.

Mum and my social worker and Subo, the fat Maths teacher, might figure I got me anger issues, but right about now, I’m sweet with that. If that sucker come near me, I will rip off its head.

Sis come back with a fryin’ pan, a carvin’ knife and a broom.

Bug watches us. It got two bug eyes stickin’ outta the side of its head, unblinkin’, like blobs of blood. Proboscis like Satan’s snout. Antennas twitchin’ away, like it knows for sure we there. Spiky brown hairs comin’ outta its side, in need of a good shave. Big, flat, brown, stripy body.
Flat
. Even now I know enough that it in need of feedin’. Its body kinda transluscent, so’s you can see it ain’t got no blood in it. Just a empty sachet, waitin’ to be filled up. Ain’t movin’ a inch. Six legs taut against the rough concrete – ready to run, or pounce. Vibin’ us out.

Outta the corner of my eye, I see another sucker, down by the side of the window. I nudge Sis. We say nothin’, but roll our eyes roun’, and there be another one, down the other side.

Three of ’em. Bugs like to hide out durin’ the day – that’s why we ain’t been seein’ ’em – but this mob mus’ be gettin’ hungry. Or greedy.

What we gon’ do?
ask Sis.

What we gon’ do? We gon’ do what you always gon’ do when you got three ugly bugs on all sides givin’ you the evils. We gon’ attack.

Mustaph the tallest, and Sis hand him the broom. I tool myself up with the fry pan.

Sis and Mus don’ say a word. She gesturin’ with her eyes,
one, two, three
, from one of the Megas to the next, then at the end of Mustaph’s broom. They doin’ their silent talkin’. It clear in my mind that Sis want Mus to knock these suckers off of their perches in quick succession. She look to me and then at Bug Number One, like it my job to squish it when it drop. Then she point her thumb at her chest and look up to Bug Number Two. She give the evil eye to Bug Number Three, and raise her eyebrows at Mus. A team, see?

Mus gonna knock ’em down one at a time. I get to smash the first one. Lickin’ my lips with the anticipation.

Sabretooth whinin’ and trottin’ on the spot like he awaitin’ instruction of his own. I put the flat of my hand to his direction. Clever dog know that mean he got to be still.

Bugs still be vibin’ us out, like they waitin’ to see what we gon’ do. Me and Sis waitin’ for Mustaph to make his move. Mustaph give a silent sigh. You can see all his muscles relaxin’ and his breathin slowin’ almost to a halt. Me, I broken into a nasty sweat, heart hammerin’ inside my chest like it want to be let the hell out of there. Sis narrows her eyes like she psychin’ herself into a state of maximum aggression.

Bam!
Mustaph swing the broom faster than a bolt of lightnin’.
Whack!
Right on the back of Bug Number One. For a moment that bug don’t do nothin’, jus’ flinch a bit. Out the corner of my eye, his two crew take off faster than a pair of bag-snatchers.
Bam!
Mustaph strike Bug Number One again, just as it turnin’ to run away. Down it come, waftin’, like a sheet of paper, slow but fast. Mus step back so I got space to smash it with the fry pan, but is tricky to tell where it gonna land.

Sabe pounces forward, teeth bared and hackles high, right under my feet. Bug hit the floor and Sabreboy be snappin’ in its general direction. I bend over my dog and strike with the fry pan, but the bug done move the second its legs hit the ground.
Clang!
The fry pan connects with concrete, jarrin’ my wrist and bendin’ in two like a pranged car bonnet. Flame of pain leap up my arm. Cuss it. Sis leap forward, slicin’ the air with her carver, lickety-split quick as the bug. Bug got a head start and scurryin’ straight back up the wall. Out of arm’s reach, it turns round. I swear, it stops and stares at us. Its antennas quiverin’ in the air, like it takin’ time to take note of our smell. Red eyes on either side of its mug fix first on Sis, then on Mustaph, then on me.

Sabretooth does a wee on the floor.

Satisfied with itself, the bug swaggers off up the wall.

Well, well, well
say Sis.
See what we got here
. She bend down and pick somethin’ from the ground.

It’s about eighteen inches long. A schnozzle, severed from the point where it joined the bug head. Sucker ain’t got no sucker no more. Sis hold it up in one hand, her knife in the other, pride on her face. She’s my Sister Rambo.

Looks like we got ourselves the evidence we after
.

Sabre havin’ a good sniff and a lick, like he tryin’ to absorb clues as to what ingredients make up a giant bedbug proboscis. Look to me like it ain’t so tasty. Schnozzle is reddish brown, razor sharp at the tip, for stabbin’ through your skin. I figure that help them bugs dig good and deep on whatever tragic soul it is they slurpin’ from.

Sis pick it up by the end and jab the air with it like a cutlass.
Yargh!
she go, like a mental pirate.
Yargh!

Stop it, Sis
.

She peer into the end of it.
All hollow. Guess it just a giant blood-straw
. She sniff it, wrinkle her nose.
Smell worse than school dinner
.

I take it off her, have a sniff myself. Sis is right. It smells like stewed bones. Makes me shiver.

Mustaph grab it from me, take a sniff also. He breaks into a big smile.
Oh, yummy yoo
.

My friends are too sick.
So what we gonna do?

Sis smile.
Like you say. Evidence, yeah? Let’s go present it to Big Auntie
.

Sis always refer to her mum as Big Auntie, like
Big Auntie
be the name printed on her birth certificate.

I have a realization.
Mum.
Finally, she goin’ to have to believe me. She’ll stop suspectin’ me, say sorry good and proper. Makes me feel all light, after the fierceness of our bullet-hole battle.

Big Auntie ain’t back yet from Pow-Wowin’ with the authorities. She oughta be back. We need her here in The Finger, see our evidence, form a plan. So we go through her flat, head towards ours, see if Mum be there.

But as we makin’ our way down the stairwell, who do we come face to face with but oinkboy Compo – with two uniformed coppers and a inspector sportin’ a genuine detective overcoat.

Compo got one of them faces like a dented shovel. Nose pokin’ at you and chin juttin’ out like a muddied blade. Nothin’ he like more than diggin’ the dirt, yeah?
Well, well
. He turn towards overcoat man like he’s his best buddy.
Talk of the devils. You want to know about drug-dealing and similar, these are the youth for interrogating
.

I’m feelin’ my fists bunchin’ up even as he speaks. Sabretooth curlin’ his lip, givin’ a low growl, like I taught him when Compo in the vicinity.
Sit, boy
I say.

Hiyah!
Sis is flashin’ these fellas her cheesiest beam, but I ain’t havin’ none of it.

Yo, Compo. You know we ain’t got nothin’ to do with that rubbish. Never have. What you wantin’ to spread lies for?

Compo and the real police are right in our faces, inspectin’ us like we is just a infestation ourselves. Compo turn to one of the uniforms and mutter
Like father, like son
. Uniform nod his head in agreement.

Shouldn’t you all be in school?
asks overcoat cop, all cool like he thinkin’ he Inspector Morse.

Sis give him her big smile.
Permanent exclusion, yeah?

I fold my arms.
Temporary suspension, yeah?

Mustaph just stand there and grin like a idiot.

Compo take a step forward.
I say we take ’em in
.

Uniform cop got his hand on his utilities, like he just itchin’ for some baton action. Man in charge look less certain. Suppose that’s why he in charge. Imagine if a fool like Compo make all the big decisions. You have riotin’ breakin’ out on every street corner.

Inspector Morse say
I hear you young people were among the last to be seen with the … deceased
.

Sis roll her eyes.

That’s right
Compo urges.
Let’s nick ’em
.

Inspector Morse squintin’ at our faces, inspectin’ our eyeballs, seein’ if we on drugs or not. Problem with Muskrat is he got them sort of eyes always look blissed out anyways. But Sis step up.
We heard about them little kids. We ain’t been doin’ nothin’ but tryin’ to find out what goin’ on ourselves
.

She straighten her face so she got the look of a good-standin’ citizen, type that collect sponsors for charity runs for the aged.

Anyway we can help?
Mus jut his lower jaw out, which is what he do the two times a year he tryin’ to show enthusiasm. It make him look like he needin’ the loo.

As it happens
says Comp, steppin’ forward.

Leave them be
says Morse.
They’re just kids. If we need to, we can ask them questions later
.

OK
say Comp.
Come on, I’ll lead you to the victims’ places of abode
.

Places of abode.
If only Comp knew what a jerk he sounded.

But Inspector Morse lingerin’, givin’ us the once over.

Listen
he say.
You kids discover anything useful, you let us know. Anything that might help
. He offers a smile and starts to turn, but stops and adds
Take care of yourselves
.