Two hours later, I was hermetically sealed inside my own house. Everything locked and closed – except the gun locker – and all the shades drawn. I had my lighter in my pocket. Because a pack of vampires off in the woods of Washington state really wanted to feast on the likes of me.
I was feeling a hell of a lot better. I was still worried beyond belief but the nausea was gone and I had faith in the pack's abilities. The fact that they knew what they were facing was also made me feel mildly better. Mildly.
"It'll be fine, Rachel. They'll do great. What are a band of stupid rock children against a pack of enormous wolves?"
Yes, I was talking to myself. Don't judge me.
I was still fairly antsy, though. I spent a while watching TV. I changed the batteries in all the smoke detectors. I vacuumed under the couch. I tossed out the expired condiments in our fridge. I was lying on the floor of the living room, watching National Geographic upside down when a sharp, rattling clang sounded off from a window near the front door.
"Hey!" I shouted. It was the last week of classes for the res schools and the kids were starting to get rambunctious on their walks home. I wasn't a total crazy person who screamed at people to get off my lawn but I wasn't about have them throwing shit at the house, because I'd inevitably have to clean or fix it.
I hopped up and went to the door. I undid the deadbolt and stepped on to the porch. The sky was much darker than it had been when I last looked out. The storm had done nothing but look menacing and grace us with gale force wind. I assumed it might've been dying down because the wind had fell to a breeze. I looked down and on the porch lay a rock bigger than my fist. What the hell? I looked up and saw a decent size scuff on the glass where it had hit the window. I was lucky it didn't break the window but now I was kinda freakin' pissed.
I stomped down the steps and towards the road. "Helllllooooo?" I shouted. But a glimpse down each end proved that there was no one there. Weird. I stepped out into the middle of the road and looked down each way. Nothing. Then I heard laughter from the trees. I rolled my eyes. Fantastic. Were we being pranked or something? Now was really not the time.
I turned towards the woods and glared at the trees. "Look you shmucks!" I shouted, "If you could not destroy my house I would be really grateful."
Then a girl not much older than me slithered out of the trees. And when I say slithered, I mean she practically oozed out of the trees. Like some serpent. "Oh," she trilled in a gentle alto. "We're not here to destroy the house."
"'We'?" I asked. All my senses told me this girl was freaking creepy. "Who is 'we'?" I took a step back and she glanced up, finally stepping out of the total shadow of the trees.
Oh shit.
Pale, drawn flesh.
Oh shit.
Blood red eyes.
Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit.
She took in my absolutely horrified expression before she giggled and capered quickly back to the trees. I backed up slowly. She was out of my sight, but I knew she could probably still see me. I ran over my options quickly as I backed across the road. I didn't have time to run into town – despite the fact that 'town' was a forty-five second jog from this spot. I knew I wouldn't make it.
I knew I didn't have time to get into the house and load the shotgun and still aim with any degree of accuracy. That was a longer shot than running to town.
I couldn't bring myself to scream – remembering that Collin and Brady were both in the area. I couldn't do it. She was out of sight and I just felt like if I remained as quiet as possible maybe I could make a break for it.
I had made it to my lawn when I heard but couldn't see her. "That's it!" She prattled, "Run! Makes the game far more interesting!"
"Game?" a droll tenor sounded from the same thick of trees. "Let's not play with our food, shall we?"
Holy motherfucking son of a shitastic bitch! How many of them were there?
I was dead where I stood.
I finally turned around and booked it. I heard a cackle as the two leapt from the trees and hid themselves in the foliage at the edge of our yard. I turned my head briefly to see them creeping out of dense brush like jungle cats. I faced forward and all but ran into the truck in my driveway.
I braced my hands on the door to the bed. I looked down and grabbed the large, red, plastic container out of the bed. I popped the cap and turned around. I let the gasoline inside pour a steady stream out and onto the ground in my wake.
My goal was to at least make it into my backyard and to the bulkhead. If I hid in the crawl space – if I literally hid under my house – I figured I could be all right. While they were preoccupied with getting through, I could make my way to the uninsulated part below the living room and slip up through a loose floorboard.
That was the long-term goal. I didn't see it happening.
As I crossed to the side of my house I backed into something rock solid. I screamed and dropped the gas as two sets of frigid fingers wrapped around my neck like tentacles. I choked and felt myself being lifted off the ground. I reached up and tugged at the fingers digging into my neck. Whoever had me, turned my flailing form so I could see. My attacker was male, maybe the same tenor that had spoken earlier. His face was alight with lust. Lust for food. There was no human left in his eyes – large and vacuous – and I could tell it was taking all his self control not slash my jugular here at the side of my house.
I could hear the sound of the blood rushing to my head, desperately trying to supply my brain with oxygen. I could hear my raspy, gulping, haggard breathing as I tried to open my esophagus. I could hear the sound of my fingernails scratching against what sounded like chalkboards as I tried to free myself. I could hear the childish giggling of that psychotic female behind me. I could hear the sound of the gasoline container below me as it chugged its contents into a puddle in my yard.
The gas…
I picked up my flailing legs and attempted to push off the leech's chest, trying an alternate method. My brain was beginning to haze over and I already couldn't make out my peripheral vision. As the man looked down at my muddy sneakers pressed into his chest and laughed, I removed one hand from the fruitless struggle at my neck and reached into my pocket.
Bright spots began popping into my vision and I could feel my brain shutting down and began to forget what I was aiming to do. My fingers hit warm metal in my pocket and I pulled out the small metal piece. In front of my own rapidly fading vision I saw it was a lighter. I flicked it open and the man looked up from his chest to my hand. A brief look of contemplation crossed his face. I felt his grip loosen ever so slightly. I struck the flint wheel against his arm and watched the small flame flare up. His grip loosened even further and now he looked horrified.
In an instant I dropped the lighter – praying it would land in the gas puddle I knew was formed below me – and I mustered all the fragmented strength left in my body and propelled myself from this man's chest and landed with a thunk on the ground behind me.
There was fire, deep yelling, high pitched screaming, snarling, barking and growling before it all faded to black.