Wedging his shoulder under the nearest end of the rolled carpet, Michael grunted hard as he pushed it up, the middle balanced precariously on the edge of the hole. He knew corpses were dead weight, literally, but this was a level of ridiculous he couldn't believe. David hadn't weighed that much, had he? Of course, the carpet probably added another ten pounds.
Huffing, Michael pushed again, the far end of the rolled carpet snagging on rocks and clumps of grass that clung to the rocky soil. He pushed as hard as he could, nearly falling on his face against the wall of the hole as the carpet gave up its resistance.
"Nice job."
Michael glared at the blonde, who grinned back at him from the darkness. "You could have helped. It would have gone faster."
"Don't get upset with me. Your girlfriend wasn't much help, either." The blonde shrugged. Star was still unconscious, lying on her side, maybe ten steps away from the hole. "Get out and open this up."
"What? Why?" Michael grabbed his sweatshirt, rubbing it over his sweaty face, smearing the dirt more.
"You keep asking questions but I'm the one with the gun." The blonde growled. "That means you do what I say."
"Bitch," Michael muttered under his breath, setting the lantern on the edge of the hole before hauling himself out.
The blonde rolled her eyes. "Sticks and stones won't break my bones, and name calling is for children."
"That's not how that saying goes."
"I'm a ghoul, Michael. You can try to hurt me but calling me derogatory names isn't where you should start. It just makes me like you even less and question if your mama taught you how to treat a lady right."
"You're no lady." Michael grumbled, stepping over the rolled carpet and assessing where to start. David's black cowboy boots stuck out next to Michael's tennis shoes, the silver spurs sinking into the dry dirt. Towards the middle, the horns stuck up through the jagged slashes Grandpa had cut into the weave to accommodate them. They were barely visible in the weak light of the lantern.
Tugging the macabre bundle farther away from the hole, Michael looked around for a tool to cut the carpet. No such luck. The blonde had divested him of the pocketknife he had taken to carrying since the attack.
"You'll have to pull it up over the horns." The blonde directed. "Don't worry, it won't hurt David."
"That's not who I'm thinking about hurting."
"Man, you bluff a lot don't you, lover-boy. Talk a big talk for a human."
"A human who took down three vampires."
"Uh huh. Somehow I don't believe that statement." The blonde shook her head, clicking her tongue in rebuke. "The Frogs talked, you know."
"What?" Michael blinked, his hands fumbling on the ragged edge of carpet. "What do you mean the Frogs talked?"
A bright grin broke out across the blonde's face. "Seriously, you expect me to believe that you haven't wondered how we knew where to find you? That I knew exactly where to make you dig?" Her grin grew bigger, if that was even possible. "That you haven't wondered why your mother, grandfather, and brother didn't come to rescue you?"
"What did you do to my mother and Sammy!?" Michael snarled, advancing on the blonde. She calmly added her free hand around the other wrapped about the grip of the gun, keeping steady aim at Michael's head.
"Does it matter, Michael? You'll see them again soon enough, if you believe in the afterlife."
Taking a few more steps towards her, Michael yelled in rage. The blonde did not flinch or show fear but her thumb pulling back the hammer, the sound stopping Michael from moving closer.
"I will shoot you, Michael, if you make me."
"Then do it!" Michael's eyes burned, his mind racing through scenarios of what these freaks had done to his mother and brother. Grandpa was a wily son of a bitch but not even he could expect to survive, not without help.
"Not yet. You still have work to do."
Huffing, his heart still pounding, Michael stepped back. The regret was filling him now. He shouldn't have said no to the trip; he and Star should have gone with them. Lucy had just wanted a nice, normal, family vacation. A weekend trip to get away from Santa Carla and see something different after the horror they'd all witnessed.
But no, Michael had begged off, said he and Star needed time alone, that they would watch the house while the rest went down to Monterey. He had been stubborn about it, too demanding. Lucy had finally given in and agreed, then graciously taken Laddie with them, to give Star a break. Michael knew his mom had grown attached to the precocious child, now that both her sons were teenagers.
"Laddie."
"What about the brat?" The blonde raised a brow.
"Did you spare him?"
She shrugged. "He was a half vampire once. Makes it hard to go back, especially one that young. Big mistake, letting him drink Max's blood."
"Why wouldn't you just turn him into a ghoul?" Michael struggled with the carpet. It wasn't going to budge around the horns, and even if it did, it would be near impossible to unroll it.
"It's not how it works. He'd be useless to us, too young. Laddie was just a distraction for Star, you know, a living baby doll to care for. Made her look all the more vulnerable and harmless to you."
Michael ignored the sting of anger. How elaborate had Max's plan been? Clearly a lot more than he realized, which made him feel stupid. "Did you kill him?"
"I would expect so." The blonde seemed oh so nonchalant about the death of a child. "But then, no one survived the car accident, so it wasn't like we singled him out."
Pain stabbed Michael in the heart, making it skip a beat as he fought for air. His chest was too tight, his breathing rapid as he blinked back tears. "Oh, God, you killed them… you're fucking monsters…"
"Yeah, we are." The blonde agreed. "Too bad it took you too long to realize it."
