Bite Me: A Love Story Chapter 10

10. marvellous KnightsTHE EMPERORThey treated it fuddle Country. What it was, in fact, was an bea s bulgeh of food market Street, near to the Tenderloin, where liquor stores sold a high volume, yet lesser variety, of modify wines resembling Thunderbird, Richards Wild Irish Rose, and MD 20-20 (known in the wine introduction as Mad Dog, for the propensity of its drinkers to urinate publicly and turn nearly three times before passing prohibited(a) on the sidewalk). while Wine Country was technically the SOMA, or the fashionable South of Market Street neighborhood, it had yet to draw the young professional crowd that sprayed everything with a shiny coat of latte and money, as had its waterfront neighbor. No, Wine Country consisted mainly of trifle- atomic pile apartments, sleazy residence hotels, deeply skeezy porn theaters, and old industrial buildings, which now housed mini-storage units. Oh, and a huge Federal Building that looked similar it was organism molested by a giant steel pterodactyl, just now evidently that was fair the government trying to get onward from their standard bomb furnish arc eruptionecture to something much aesthetically appealing, especially if you liked Godzilla porn.It was in the buns of that architectural abomination that the emperor had taken his search for the alpha lamia qat. He and the men didnt spend much time in Wine Country, as he had lost a decade in a bottle somewhere and had since forsworn the grape. moreover it was his city, and he knew it like the cat-scratch scars on Bummers muzzle.Steadfast, gents, steadfast, verbalise the emperor butterfly, throwing his berm against a Dumpster behind a hundred-year-old brick building. Bummer and Lazarus had commenced low, rumbling growls since theyd come into the alley, as if on that point were tiny semi-trucks idling in their chests. They were close.The Dumpster rolled aside on rusty wheels, revealing a basement window with a tab of plywood loosely fitted into it. The building had once housed a brewery, alone had want since been refitted for storage, except for the basement, half of which had been bricked get rid of from the inside. But this window had been forgotten, and it led to an thermionic tube chamber entirely unknown to the police, where William, and other people who succumbed to the Wine Countrys charms, would anticipate shelter from the rain or the cold. Of course, you had to be drunk to think it was a good sharpenment to stay. Except for the spot by the window, the basement was alone dark, as well as damp, rat infested, and reeking of urine.As he pulled a instruction the plywood, the Emperor heard a high sizzling thinking(a), and the tincture of burning hair came streaming out the window. Bummer skined. The Emperor turned a course and coughed, fanned the smoke away from his face, and hencece peered into the basement. All over the gross parts of the trading bedeck, cat cadavers were smoldering, burning, an d reducing to ash as the sun hit them. There were scores of them, and those were just the ones the Emperor could take hold of from the window light.This appears to be the place, gents, he verbalise, patting Lazaruss side.Bummer snorted, tossed his head, and ruffed three times fast, which translated to, I thought I would admire the smell of burning cats more, but strangely, no.The Emperor got on his turn over and knees, then backed through the window. His greatcoat caught on the window sill and very helped him in lowering his great bulk to the floor.Lazarus stuck his head in the window and whimpered, which translated to, Im a little uneasy astir(predicate) you being in there by yourself. He measured the distance from the window to the basement floor and pranced, preparing himself to leap into the abyss.No, you stay, good Lazarus, express the Emperor. I fear I wouldnt be able to lift you out once you are down here.With the ashes of destroy cats crunching under his shoes the Emperor made his way across the style until he reached the end of the direct light that lay across the floor like a dingy gray carpet. To move utter nearther hed suffer to step on the bodies of the sleeping-well, pulseless-cats, as even in the shadows, he could check into that the floor was cover with feline corpses. The Emperor shuddered and fought the urge to bolt to the window.He was non a particularly brave man, but had an overly real sense of duty to his city, and putting himself in harms way to protect her was something he was compelled to do, despite the acute case of the willies that was crawling up his spine like an capacious centipede.There must be a nonher entrance, the Emperor say, more to calm himself than to actually impart information. Perhaps non large sufficiency for a man, or I would turn in known.He tentatively nudged a dead cat aside with his toe, cringing as he did it. The lot of the lamia cats engulfing the samurai swordsman filled his head and he had to shake it off before taking another(prenominal) step.A flashlight skill boast been a good idea, he verbalize. He didnt develop a flashlight, however. What he had were five books of contradictes and a cheap, serrated-edged chefs glossa that hed found in a churl can. This would be the weapon hed use to dispatch the vampire cat, Chet. In his younger, nave days, last month, hed carried a wooden sword, thinking to stake the vampires in the heart, image style, but hed seen the old vampire nearly torn apart by explosions, gunfire, and spear guns by the Animals when theyd destroyed his yacht, and none of it seemed as effective as had the little swordsman hed seen in the SOMA. Still, a flashlight would have been nice. He lit a catch and held it before him as he move into the dark, working his foot between cat bodies with each step. When the match ruin his hitchhikes, he lit another.Bummer barked, the sharp report echoed through the basement. The Emperor turned and realized t hat hed somehow made his way around a recession and the window was no longer visible. He reached inside his great overcoat and felt for the handle of the chefs knife, which was stuck in his belt at the small of his back. He pushed on, moving into another room, a large one as far as he could control, but still, to the edge of the match light, the bodies of cats littered the floor, most of them lying on their sides as if theyd just dropped over, or in boorish piles, as if theyd been in the middle playing, or fighting, or mating when something suddenly switched them off like a light switch.Another distant bark from Bummer, then a deeper one from Lazarus. Im fine, men, Ill be finished with this and back out in no time.Well into his third book of matches, the Emperor truism a steel door, partly ajar. He made his way to it the dead cats thinned out and then there was a bit of a clearing in the carnage, although only for a foot or two, as if a path had been cleared, but a narrow one. He stood and caught his breath.He heard mens voices, but coming from back by the window, amid them more barking and now snarling from the men.Im in here the Emperor called. Im in here. The men are with meThen a distant voice. Mo-fuckas need to cover this up. The City see it they brick this bitch up, then where we go when it rain?There was a thump, then a grating noise, a rusty creaking, and the Emperor realized it was the sound of the plywood being fit back into the window and the heavy Dumpster pushed into place before it.Block them wheels, give tongue to the voice.Im here Im here called the Emperor. He gritted his teeth, preparing to run across the deep carpet of cat corpses to the window, but he hesitated, the match burned his fingers, and darkness fell upon him.THE ANIMALS Im pretty sure its the Apocalypse, give tongue to Clint, not even looking up from his red-letter King James Bible.The Animals were spread out in various positions around the basketball court, playing HORSE. Clint, Troy leeward, and displace sat with their backs to the chain-link fence. Troy lee side was trying to read over Clints shoulder, move was packing pot into the bowl of a purple carbon-fiber sports bong.Cavuto and Rivera made their way around the outside of the court.Whats up my niggas came a scratchy, wizened voice-totally out of place for the surroundings-like someone smacking a fiery fart out of a tiny dragon with a badminton racket.Rivera blockped and turned toward a small figure who stood at the foul line dressed in enormous sneakers and an Oakland Raiders hoody speculative enough for a pro offensive tackle. Except for the cat-rim glasses, it looked like Gangsta Yoda, only not so green.Thats Troy Lees grannie, give tongue to the tall kid, Jeff. You have to give her a pound or shes expiration to keep express it.Indeed, she had a fist in the air, waiting for a pound.You go ahead, state Cavuto. Youre ethnic.Rivera made his way to the tiny adult female and despite feel ing completely embarrassed about it, bumped fists with her.Troot, said Grandma.Truth, said Rivera. He looked to Lash, who had been the ad hoc loss leader of the Animals after Tommy Flood was turned vampire. You okay with this?Lash shrugged. What are you gonna do? Besides, its prolly the Apocalypse. No time to roll all politically correct up in this bitch when the world is ending.Its not the Apocalypse, said Cavuto. Its definitely not the Apocalypse.Im pretty sure it is, said Troy Lee, looking over Clints shoulder at Revelation.They all gathered around the seated Animals. Rivera took out his notebook, then shrugged and put it back in his discharge. This wasnt going to be in any(prenominal) report.Drew sparked up the bong, bubbled a long hit, then handed it to Barry, the grow scuba diver, who inhaled the extra off the top.Were cops, you know? said Cavuto, not look that sure of it himself.Drew shrugged and exhaled a skunky blast. Sokay, its medical.What medical? You have a carte? Whats your condition?Drew produced a blue card from his shirt pocket and held it up. Im anxious.Thats not a condition, said Cavuto, snapping the card out of Drews hand. And this is a program library card. Reading makes him anxious, said Lash.Its a condition, said Jeff, trying to look somber.Its for arthritis, said Troy Lee.He doesnt have arthritis. Its not a thing. Cavuto was pulling custody out of the pouch on his belt.She does, said Troy Lee, pointing to his grandmother.The old woman grinned, held up her card, flashed an arthritic West Coast gang sign, and said, Whats up, my nigga? Im not giving her a pound, said Cavuto.Shes like ninety. You must. It is our way, said Troy Lee in his mysterious ancient Chinese secret voice. From his sitting position, he bowed a little at the end for effect.Cavuto had to bend down to give the old woman a pound. You know youll never trajectory the killer cats in those giant shoes, he said.She doesnt understand, said Barry.No comprende English, sa id Gustavo.Cats? said Rivera. Your message.Yeah, you said to call if anything weird happened, said Troy Lee.Actually, we said not to call us, said Cavuto.Really? Whatever. Anyway, the Emperor came banging on the store windows last night all freaked out about vampire cats.Did you see them?Yeah, there were shitloads. And I dont know how youre going to take them down. Thats why its pretty obvious that its the Apocalypse.Clint, the born-again, now looked up. I figure that the number of the creature is a number of how many. So, there were like six hundred cardinal at least.Although it was hard to count, said Drew. They were in a defame.Rivera looked to Troy Lee for explanation.It was like theyd all gone to vapor, like we saw the old vampire trying to do that night we blew up his yacht. Except they were all merged into one, capacious-ass vampire cloud.Yeah, it started coming into the store, even with the door locked, said Jeff, now at the foul line, sinking his fourth swish in a row. Howd you stop it? Cavuto asked.Wet towel under the door, said Barry. Its what you do when youre smoking wad in a hotel and you dont want everyone calling security. Youre always supposed to have a towel. I read about it in a lam for hitchhiking through the galaxy.Skills, said Drew, a little glassy-eyed now.But, if not for the wet towel, it was the Apocalypse, said Troy Lee. Clint is looking in the book of Revelation for the part about the towel now.I hope its like Thunder Dome Apocalypse, said Jeff. Not zombies trying to eat your brain Apocalypse.Im pretty sure its going to be, city-wiped-out-by-vampire-cats Apocalypse, said Barry. You know, just going on what we know.Its not the Apocalypse, said Cavuto.So, what happened? Rivera asked. The cloud just went away?Yeah, it sort of distilled to a big herd of cats and they went footrace every which way. But what do we do tonight if it comes back? The Emperor led it right to us.Where is the Emperor?He went off this morning with his dogs. utter he thought he knew where the prime vampire cat might be and that he and the men would dispatch it and save his city.And you let him?Hes the Emperor, Inspector. You cant tell him shit.Rivera looked at Cavuto. Call dispatch to post a bulletin to call us if anyone sees the Emperor.Were not getting off work today, are we? said Cavuto.Take an Apocalypse day, said Barry. Woo-hoo Apocalypse dayTroy Lees grandma fired off a barrage of Cantonese to her grandson, who replied with the same. The old woman shrugged and looked up at Cavuto and Rivera and spoke for about thirty seconds, then went and took the ball from Jeff, then shot a complete air ball, at which everyone cheered.What? What? said Cavuto.She precious to know what Barry was woo-hooing about, so I told her.What did she say?She said no big deal. They had vampire cats in Beijing when she was a girl. She said their shit is weak.She said that?The idiom is different, but basically, yeah.Oh good, said Cavuto, I feel better.We need to settle the Emperor, Rivera said.Cavuto pulled the car keys out of his jacket. And pick up our Apocalypse jackets.What about us? asked Lash.Rivera didnt even look back when he said, You guys have more sleep together fighting vampires than anyone on the planetWe do, dont we? said Troy Lee.Oh, we are so fucked, said Lash.Thats sad, said Drew, repacking the bowl of the bong. Really sad.THE EMPEROR Darkness. He waited a moment, listening to his pulse beat in his ears before striking another match. Courage, he whispered to himself, a mantra, an affirmation, a sound to keep him from start out of his own skin at every creak or rustle in the dark. He lit the match, held it aloft.He pulled at the big steel door, throwing his weight, and it moved a few inches. Perhaps this was the other way out. It was clear that all these cats hadnt come in through the window, not with the plywood blocking it. He elbowed the door aside, feeling the resistance of a intent of dormant vampire cats piled up against it. When the opening was wide enough to push through, he put his shoulder inside, then paused as the match went out from the movement.He was inside, and the floor seemed clear at his feet, although it felt as if he was standing on powder. As he lit the beside match he hoped to see a stairway, a hallway, perhaps another boarded-up window, but in fact what he saw was that he was in a small storeroom fitted with wide metal shelves. The floor was indeed covered with a thick layer of dust, and among it, rumpled dress. Ragged overcoats, jeans, and work boots, but also brightly colored satin garments, hot pants, and halter tops, tall political program shoes in fluorescent colors, dingy under the dust and darkness.These had been people. roofless people and hookers. The fiends had actually dragged people down here and fed on them-sucked them to dust, as the little Goth girl had termed it. But how? No point how strong or ravenous, the cats were still just housecats before the y had turned. And they hadnt seemed cooperative. He couldnt regard a pack of twenty vampire cats dragging a fully grown person down here. It didnt make sense.The match burned his finger and he tossed it aside, then pulled the knife from his belt before lighting the next. When the next match flared, he saw something on one of the high shelves at the far side of the room. Something quite a bit larger than a housecat. Perhaps it was one of their victims who had survived.He adjusted his grip on the knife and moved forward, trying not to cringe as the dusty clothing clung to his feet and ankles.No, not a cat. At least not a housecat. But it had fur. And a tail. But it was the size of an eight-year-old child, and it was snuggled up against something even larger. The Emperor raised the knife and stepped forward, then stopped.Well, you dont see that every day, he said.The cat thing was spooning the naked form of Tommy Flood.