It took some ass-whipping to send the junkies packing, but we got it done no problem. Lucas Got a little heated and let fly with some lead, and we had to deal with that pronto. Dragged the junkie back behind the house, figuring somebody would call the cops, and buried him under some lime. Don’t need any dogs digging up junkie-bones and getting all the neighbors upset. Officer Friendly came around, but he got what they usually get.
There was a thumping coming from the Box back inside, and it turns out it was Fred, awake from nap-time. I got the green light from Lucas to bring him downstairs and get at what’s really going on with this Mikkelson dude, the zombie-junkies, the red meth, all that shit. We had a nice conversation, and Fred figured it was a better call to be open up and be honest. I was fine with asking him harder, but Fred knew to believe the hype and fess up.
Always the best policy when chained to a chair in a basement.
So turns out this Mikkelson dude is some kind of vampire. Yeah, no, seriously. He feeds people his blood and shit like that, and mixes it with the meth he makes – explains the color. And it seems like people want this blood, and after they drink it, they hear him talking to them.
Now, one guy saying this in a basement would be one thing, but it came together with other weird shit we were hearing, and some weird shit we’d seen, and I’ll be honest. I buy it – vampires, blood-meth, flying, all that shit. That’s some Hume, right? Anyway, vampires. Fuckin’ a’. Especially after the next shit we saw.
So Sonny and I tear out of there sorta looking for trouble. Like usual, but maybe now it’s vampire trouble. I don’t think we were sure then, but we’d get our proof.
We end up out on the road to Pawnee when we see some reds-and-blues up ahead. We park and sneak up to the lights, and overhear some crazy shit. People shot and getting back up, a cop tied up in the back of the cop car, some messed up girl and our old friends the Private Dick and Indiana Jane. Indiana Jane had it in for me, but I squeaked by on my charm. Gotta remember the second gun, though.
This is when a corpse gets up off the ground and comes for us. Bullets only do so much, and somebody says something about cutting of the head. I’ve got a Bowie knife, so I do the honors, and that definitely seems like the off-button to me. I go over and do the same to the cop, but I remember about Mikkelson talking in people’s heads, and someone says about maybe he can see through their eyes. So I look into the cop’s eyes as I sever his spine.
“I’m coming for you.”
I thought that was some legit’ Die Hard shit right there. Made me all warm and fuzzy, and I figure, he knows anyway, so might as well let him know I’ve got teeth too.
We decided on a breakfast meeting, so I’ll have to be up before noon I guess. On the way back to town, we stop by the Wal-Mart. Sonny gets a hunting rifle on me, and I grab one of those big fuck-off fire axes.
I like the weight of it.