Un2Dead (Book One of the Un2Series)
Chapter Eleven

“I’m starving.” Gary said as he poked his head through the El Camino’s rear window. “Smelling all that Tex-Mex back at the restaurant got my guts grumbling. Can we pull over and grab a bite?”

Wit turned to Joey. ”How ‘bout you?”

“Yeah, I could go for a little someone. What are you going to do? How are you going to feed without fangs?” Joey curled his lip and tapped at his own.

“It’s okay. I grabbed a few plasma pouches and tossed them into the cooler with a couple of bendy straws. I’ll suck down those while you two do your thing. Okay, Gary, what’s it gonna be?”

Gary stood in the truck bed and scanned the oncoming horizon. He took a deep breath of the air rushing past him. Turning his head he inhaled at several additional points on the compass. “Up ahead on the right will do nicely, thank you.”

Wit slowed the El Camino to a near crawl as he passed over the speed bumps entering the Castle’s parking lot. He backed into an open spot, keeping the usual dozen or so empty parking spaces between his vehicle and the door. Gary vaulted over the roof and hood, landing in the outstretched beams of the headlights. He turned and grinned a big fake smile at Wit.

“Gary! I swear to God if you ever land on the hood of this car . . . .” Wit grimaced as he opened his door.

“Truck.” Gary smiled again.

“What?”

“Truck. If I ever land on the hood of this truck you will what?” Gary pushed that button one more time.

“Screw you, Gary. By the way, nice restaurant.” Wit reached behind the seat and pulled two plasma pouches from the cooler.

“What difference does it make to you, Pouch-Boy?” Gary taunted.

“Yeah, Wit, I could go for a bit of grease and onions myself!” Joey stepped up to join the others moving toward the door. “Let’s grab a booth and figure out what our next steps are as far as this Ouroboros thing goes.”

The fluorescent lighting bounced off of the white ceramic tiles making the restaurant interior so bright you could wear sunglasses and still feel the need to squint. A faint sizzle drifted through the air attached to the combined aromas of onions and grease.

Gary’s mouth watered as he stepped up to the counter. “I’ll take ten with cheese, a large fries and a diet whatever. A boy needs to watch his figure if he expects anyone else to, ya know what I mean?”

A blank stare greeted Gary’s attempt a being clever. “Is that for here or to go?”

“Here.”

“Would you like to try the new jalapeño and cheddar burgers? They have a bit of an added kick.”

“Sure. What the heck.”

“Cheese on the fries?”

“Why not?”

“Good thing you ordered that diet.”

After what felt like an eternity to a hungry dayhound, Gary returned to the booth shoveling fries into his mouth as he walked. Wit and Joey were already discussing their plan of action.

“Think, Joey. What happened after I blacked out? What happened with that ribcage guy?”

Joey had his eyes closed and was rubbing his forehead. “I’m trying, Danny. I called in some of my people to help clean up while Reese and I got you back to my apartment. When I returned to the store, it was all neat and tidy. I didn’t think twice about it after that. We typically don’t discuss major mishaps once they are handled.”

“The first rule of Vampire Club is you don’t talk about Vampire Club.” Gary punctuated his point by pointing a cheesy fry at Wit. He paused, waiting for the usual “Shut up, Gary.” He turned to look at Joey.

“That was actually a good one. One hit out of a million at bats. Nice job.” Joey raised his hand and accepted a high five from Gary.

Wit pulled out a plasma pouch and punctured it with a straw. He sucked down hard enough to oil can the sides of the pouch. His first swallow instantly returned to his mouth. He grabbed Gary’s drink, tore of the lid and spewed plasma into the diet whatever, much to Gary’s dismay.

“This shit is awful.” Wit handed the pouch to Joey who in turn took a draw on the straw.

“No, it’s not. It tastes just fine. Care if I finish it?” Joey continued to drink. ”You know, Wit, maybe you can’t do blood anymore. Why don’t you try a French fry?”

“You think so? Really?”

“Look at it this way. You have lost your fangs, you’re pinking up a bit, you can’t even swallow the least bit of blood. You need to nourish yourself somehow. Try some solid food.”

“Go ahead,” added Gary, “if you can’t swallow it, you could always spit it into my drink.”

“Sorry ‘bout that. It was the first thing I saw. I owe you a new one. Mind if I try a fry?”

Wit reached over and selected a medium length fry without any cheese on it. He slid it carefully into his mouth as if it could explode if handled improperly. He chewed slowly, the salt and oil mingling with his own saliva. He closed his eyes and swallowed.

“Oh, Sweet Jesus, that tastes good.”

Wit grabbed another. This one was coated with cheesy goodness. It slid down his throat effortlessly. He grabbed a third, then a fourth.

“Here, why not try a burger while you’re at it.” Gary slid his tray forward with an air of disgust.

Wit shoved a soft warm square of beef and onions into his mouth without hesitation. Three bites later it was gone. The second burger took only two bites. The third disappeared as if it were placed in the tube at the bank drive-thru.

”Hey, get your own!” Gary yanked his tray back and slammed his arm down in front of it to create a barricade between his food and the ravenous Wit.

“I forgot how good it feels to chew something. My God that’s satisfying!” Wit licked a fallen piece of onion from his thumb paused and then proceeded to lick each and every one of his fingers.

“Guys, can we discuss the Ouroboros? That is, of course, if your little dinner party is finished.” Joey was visibly troubled as he helped himself to the second pouch of plasma. “This doesn’t set right with me at all.”

“You said you called in some of your people to handle the cleanup. Can we get a hold of them and ask if anything unusual happened? They would have said something if they noticed something unusual, right?” Wit said as he stole a couple more fries off of Gary’s plate.

“What exactly would you consider ‘unusual’, considering we’re talking about vampires cleaning up after zombie dismemberment in a pet store? Every cleanup has its oddities.”

“Can you at least check and see what happened?” Wit asked.

“Sure.” Joey pulled out a pen and jotted a note on a napkin.” I think we need to talk to the rock star. What’s his name? The one we were watching the snake for?”

“DeLeon. Man, that guy was livid. Telling him the snake was stolen was our only out. It wasn’t like he could report a black market reptile missing. Why talk to him?”

“Besides me, you and Reese, he was the only one that knew we had the snake,” Joey replied.

“So?”

“If that’s true then the Ribcage must have found out about it through him. Did DeLeon ever mention who he bought the snake from? He could be a starting point as well.”

“Nope. I drove to his compound in the middle of the night to pick it up. DeLeon put the crate into the van himself. He was so paranoid that someone would replace out he had it. He wasn’t very chatty.”

To Gary’s continued dismay, Wit plucked another burger from Gary’s tray and practically swallowed it whole. Gary sighed, slid the tray toward Wit, scooted out of the booth and stood before Wit with his hand extended.

“Ten bucks. Give me ten bucks so I can go buy myself some dinner!” Gary reinforced the gesture by pointing at his open palm. Wit dug into his pocket and produced a wadded up green paper ball.

“This is all I’ve got. Keep the change.”

Wit dipped the remaining burger in the last of the ketchup, slid it through the cheese fries droppings and popped it into his mouth. He licked his index finger and pressed it into a smattering of salt left on the greasy paper plate and transferred it to his tongue.

He called out to Gary, “Get me a chocolate shake!”

Gary replied with a single finger.

“I guess we’re headed east.” Joey said as he folded his napkin and stuck it in his pocket. “We haven’t been back there since you turned.”

“How do we know if he even lives there anymore?”

“Good point.” Joey reached into his jeans and extracted his phone. After a few pokes at the screen he flipped the phone towards Wit so he could see the results.

“It is amazing how much information people are willing to share about themselves. Check out his status,’ God of all Rock Gods.’ According to this his favorite band is ‘Himself’ and he currently lives at ‘The Compound.’ Here’s a tweet that says he’s ‘picking up last minute party supplies for this week’s blow out.’ I think that says it all.” Joey buffed the phone on his sleeve and returned it to his pocket smudge-free.

“We better get a move on. It will be daylight soon and Gary will be less than helpful once he goes canine. Let’s get home and packed while he still has thumbs.”

Wit nested all the little empty square boxes into one another and pitched them into the trash.

“Hey, Gary, get it to go! We’re outta here!” Wit gestured to Gary across the restaurant and Gary gestured back with the same single finger as before.

During the drive home Wit experienced something he hadn’t in years. He felt full. He actually felt a little bloated. He was fighting to stay awake. The night had been his world. It was his time to be out and about. Despite the occasional restless day dealing with a colicky newborn, Wit hadn’t even yawned in close to twenty-five years. He stretched then scratched his head. He hung his head out of the open window hoping the fresh air would revitalize him. The oncoming white-dashed line became hypnotic in the headlights. His head bobbed. Drifting slowly to the right his stupor was snapped by the “voot-voot” of his tires when they met the washboards embossed in the edge of the pavement.

“Sorry, guys.” Wit apologized but received no response. Gary was finishing off his fries in the rear of the truck while Joey was totally absorbed checking his email.

Wit pressed the garage door opener as he turned into the driveway. The garage, void of Reese’s car, seemed sadly vacant. He pulled the El Camino into the center in an attempt to make it feel less empty.

Wit called to the pair as they entered the house. “Pack enough for a couple of days and set it in the hallway. I’ll put it in the car tomorrow night. We’ll be leaving first thing. Joey, don’t forget to pack your sun shroud.”

The automatic overhead light on the garage door opener clicked off leaving Wit in an unfamiliar darkness. He groped at the black void as he shuffled toward the faint sliver of light escaping from beneath the kitchen door.

“Great,” he thought, “no fangs and now no night vision. I am pitiful.”

Wit stumbled up the step and entered the house. He made his way toward his bedroom turning on every light along the way. He haphazardly threw a couple of changes of clothes into his gym bag and set it in the hall next to the two bags that had already made it there. He yawned, rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands then returned to his room turning off lights in his wake.

The coolness of the sheets and the faint scent of Reese welcomed Wit as he crawled into his spot and pulled the ultraviolet shield over the bed. Sleep came quickly but was interrupted by what Wit initially thought to be a growling cat. He lay there listening until he realized that they didn’t own a cat. The sound came again, this time joined by a rumbling in Wit’s midsection. A buildup of pressure pushed against his belly then rolled up through his torso and out every open orifice in his head sounding like a twenty pound bullfrog.

Wit chuckled and thought, “Boy, that felt good!”

He smiled and shifted his body slightly and in doing so felt his dinner slosh to one side. He shifted once again. The contents of his stomach slid back to whence they came, accompanied by a groan you would associate with an ancient ship at sea. As the groaning and creaking continued Wit’s heart began to pound, as if it were trying to synchronize itself with the noises from below. The pressure Wit had experienced moments earlier returned tenfold, accompanied by a cold sweat. He lay rigid and gripped the sheets on either side of him, bracing for what was to come. The pressure shifted direction toward Wit’s pelvis causing him to clench both his teeth and his butt muscles. A searing pain burrowed through bowels that had been dormant for the past twenty five years. A torrent of hot dead air burst from Wit’s backside with a roar.

His sealed bedchamber filled with stench so foul his face felt as though he had just opened the Arc of the Covenant. He frantically fumbled at the release latch for the ultraviolet shield, unable to see clearly through his watering eyes. He flipped the shield and threw himself to the floor, gasping for air. The brief relief the fresh air brought was quickly washed away by a maniacal twisting in Wit’s abdomen. He crawled trembling into the master bathroom and closed the door behind him.

Across the house Joey sprang upright from a dead sleep. He tilted his head and listened intently.

He heard nothing. Besides, who could possibly be yodeling? He adjusted his pillow with a punch and fell back to sleep.