Chicks Kick Butt

It’s a clear, quiet, moonless night. Max and I have tramped across two miles of barren desert. We’re both dressed in dark camo, ski masks covering our faces. I have a .38 strapped to my waist. Just in case Max’s coyote turns out to be human after all.

Max dons night-vision goggles. I don’t need them. The creatures of the desert are as clear to me in the inky blackness as they would be in the brightest sunlight. I see more than Max ever can, down to the tiniest scurrying insects he crushes underfoot as we trudge onward.

I hear more, too. The faraway cry of a bird of prey. The squeal of a rabbit as the jaws of a coyote snap closed around its neck. The pebbles pushed aside in the wake of a slithering snake.

Then, something else.

I touch Max’s arm. Signal him to stop. Point off to the north.

Too far away for him to see, there’s a dim shadow against the darkness. Moving toward us.

Max doesn’t question me. We seek cover behind the sloping bank of an arroyo, dry as dust in the summer heat. And hunker down to wait.

The shadow draws closer, divides into three. I probe, careful to keep my own presence hidden. The unmistakable psychic pattern of a vampire comes back like the blip on radar. At least one of them is vampire.

Then a feeling I’ve come to recognize swamps my senses. Revulsion. Rage. Bloodlust so powerful the vampire within bursts from its human cocoon with the gnashing of teeth.

Evil approaches.

Max seems to detect the change. He leans away from me, an involuntary, instinctive reaction to danger. “What’s wrong?”

I strip the ski mask from my face, let it fall to the ground. It takes effort to speak, to form words and force them through a throat that wants to howl. “Stay away from me. No matter what happens.”

I don’t wait for his reply. I leap over the embankment and head out to meet the monster.





CHAPTER 6




She senses my approach.

She.

Max’s coyote.

We’re still a mile away from each other, but she picks up the rage. I close the distance in seconds.

Then we’re face-to-face.

I point to the man and woman at her side. They are stunned by my sudden appearance, by my vampire face. They are young, maybe twenty, dressed in dark jeans and hoodies that are tattered and stained. Each carries a small satchel. They cringe away, look to their guide.

I look at her, too.

Let them go.

The vampire tilts her head to one side, studying me. Physically, we are evenly matched. She is weighing her options.

You have no options.

She is cloaking her thoughts. After a moment she says, Perhaps you are right . These two are of no consequence.

Do they speak English?

A nod.

I drag my eyes away from her, motion to the couple. “The border is three miles straight ahead. There is a tear in the fence. You can make it on your own.”

I am trying very hard to sound human. Even to my own ears, my voice is rough. It comes from my gut, not my vocal cords. A growl.

The humans are mesmerized. They can’t look away from my eyes.

The vampire raises a hand, strokes the hair of the woman. They want to stay with me

She has not shown her true nature. The woman steps behind her for protection. The vampire laughs.

The fury in me builds. I realize her intention. Her mouth opens, her teeth gnash. She reaches behind to pull the woman forward.

I have her neck before she can grab the woman. I pull her away and spin her around, showing the cowering couple the true face of their savior.

They jump back, mouths open in astonishment.

The vampire laughs again. I force her to her knees. Reach into the pocket of her jacket. Pull a wad of bills from inside.

“Take your money. Go. Now.”

This time, there is no hesitation. They circle around us in a wide arc, uncomprehending, fearful the creatures might change their minds. Then they’re off, running across the desert floor.

I hold the vampire on the ground until the rustle of their clothes, the sound of their footsteps, are a distant echo.

You could have let me keep the money.

She is not afraid.

Why?

Do you know who I am?

Everyone of our race knows who you are.

Then you know I can’t let you go.

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