You Suck (17 page)

A
pparently I am the Hunted, which, I want to note here, I am totally not qualified for. Here I sit, perched in the rafters (I think these things are rafters) of the Oakland Bay Bridge like a crippled night bird, waiting for doom to descend on me in the form of an ancient, undead thing, to wrench the very limbs from my delicate body. So that sucks.

Fortunately I have some sustenance until my Dark Lord and Lady rise from their diurnal slumber to kick some fucking ass. I know I should be eating bugs and spiders and stuff to facilitate my vampyrism, but as a vegetarian, I haven’t developed the hunting skills, so I’ve started with some Gummi Bears I got at the theater. (Supposedly they are made out of beef pectin or extract of horse hooves or something, so I think they make a good transition to the nosferatu diet. And I like biting off their tiny heads.)

Here, high above the City—well, actually, we’re about
ten feet above some homeless people who live under the bridge—I feel like the guardian of an ancient tomb, willing to face any attacker to protect my master and mistress, who are wrapped in tarps, lying on the next beam or rafter or what ever.

OMFG, there are fucking pigeons everywhere! Sorry, one just pooped on my notebook. Never mind. Move along. I’m over it. But ewwww!

Jared has gone to his dad’s house in the Noe Valley to get the lawn cart and minivan so we can transport my masters to safety. He left me his dagger, which I’ve only had to brandish once, against a woman who wanted to take the tarp from over my Dark Lord. Then I used it to scrape off my old nail polish, which was totally chipped and stuff from doing minion manual labor.

So, my masters like met up with us outside the Museum of Modern Art and they were all, “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” And they were being all secretive around Jared, like he didn’t know we were vampyres. And I was all, “Just chill, he’s assistant minion.” So they relaxed.

Then Flood pulls this bronze hand out of his bag and he’s all, “Abby, do you know what this is?”

And I was all, “Why yes, Lord Flood,” because I speak
obvious
as a second language. “It’s a bronze hand, correct?”

So the Countess took the hand from him. “Abby, this is what’s left of the shell of the vampyre who turned me.”

So I’m all, “Begging your pardon and whatnot, Countess, but that’s a statue hand.”

And she’s all, “That’s what I’m saying.” Which is not what the fuck she was saying at all.

So it turns out that the bronze statue that used to be in the loft was actually the vampyre who turned the Countess, and then the Countess turned the vampyre Flood, except he was just Flood then. So the old vampyre, whose name is Elijah, got all PMS and started fucking with the Countess by leaving dead bodies all over town with evidence pointing toward her, and threatening to kill her minion, who was Flood at the time, and it got completely out of hand, with some cops and the geeks from the Safeway blowing up Elijah’s yacht and really pissing him off, and then the Countess pretending to save Elijah when in fact she was extracting his ancient vampyry secrets, and Flood bronzing them both, but letting the Countess out because she is the love of his life and whatnot. So Flood, who is not a mysterious and ancient creature of the night at all, but has been a vampyre like a week longer than I have, took the statue down to the waterfront to drop it in the Bay, so it wouldn’t remind the Countess of her heart being torn asunder by the yearning for two lovers and stuff. But the sun came up and Flood left the statue on the Embarcadero, and when they went back it was gone, and it turns out that Elijah is loose and he was the crusty vampyre in the yellow tracksuit I saw shaking the huge cat guy and he is now stalking me to get back at the Countess for being a duplicitous ho.

So Jared was all, “Fuck. That’s awesome.”

And I was all, “You lied to me.”

And the Countess was all, “Yeah, sunshine, that’s why I’m telling you this now.” Which was completely unnecessary sarcasm on her part.

And Jared was like, “This is the best Christmas ever.”

And I was all, “Shut up, gay-bait. I’ve been betrayed.”

And the Countess was all, “You’ll get over it. We have to go see if William is okay.”

And I see now that she was right, but I brooded as we went back to the loft, just to make a point, because I hate it when people take me for granted. When we got to the Countess’s block, there was an ambulance there and cops all over the place, so Flood and the Countess hung back and sent me over to get the 411. I could see that the huge cat guy was on a stretcher and they were strapping oxygen on him.

And I was all, “Let me through, this man is my father.”

And the EMTs were all, “No way.”

And I was all, “Who called you, anyway?”

And they were like, “The guy in the building. A sculptor or something.”

And then the cat guy was all, “Let her through.”

So they let me through.

So I blew by the EMT to the huge cat guy, and I was all, “Are you okay?”

And he was like, “Well, my head hurts like hell, and I think my leg is broke.”

And I was all, “Is there anything I can do?” Because I was under orders of the Countess to gain information and offer assistance.

And he was like, “If you could take care of Chet. He’s in the stairwell. He’ll be hungry.”

And I was all, “You got it.”

So then he like pulled the oxygen mask off and had me bend over so he could whisper, and I was all, “Yes, Dad,” for the EMTs who were watching.

And he whispered like, “Before they take me away, could I see your tits.”

So I kicked him in the ribs. And the EMTs went all by-zerk and shit, and told me to get away, but they were totally overreacting, because I had on my red Converse All Stars, which will hardly even bruise you.

So they loaded him into the ambulance, and just as they were shutting the doors, he reached out his hand, like he was a drowning man reaching for the last spark of his mortality before the inky waves of death swept him away—so I flashed my boobs for him, just a quick lift of my bra and top at the same time, because I don’t think we do enough to help the homeless, and I wanted him to die a happy man. And besides, they’re small and I don’t get that many requests.

So I got Chet out of the stairway of the old loft and was carrying him kid-style when I saw the two cops from before—the ones the Countess said helped blow up Elijah—so I went up to the Hispano-cop and I was all, “So, what’s up, cop?”

And he was all, “You need to get home, and you have no business out at this hour, and we should take you to the station and call your parents and blah, blah, blah, threat,
threat, disapproval, and fascist dogma all up in your darkly delicious grille.” (I’m paraphrasing. Although I do have a delicious grille as I had to wear braces for three years when I was a kid, and now my teeth are like my most acceptable feature. I hope my fangs come in straight.)

And the big gay cop was all, “What are you doing here?”

And I was all, “I live here, bone-smoker, what are you doing here? Aren’t you guys homicide cops?”

And he was all, “Let’s see some ID blah, blah, bluster, bluster, Oh My God I am so full of shit.”

And I was like, “I guess you wouldn’t have to deal with this shit if you had properly blowed up that old vampyre when you stole his art collection.”

So all of a sudden the Hispano-cop and his big gay partner were all, “Whaaa—?”

And I’m like, “Just so we know where we stand. How long you bitches going to be here?”

And they were like, “Just a half hour or so longer, miss. We need to interview some witnesses and go clean out our boxers where we have just completely shit ourselves. Do you need a ride somewhere?” (Again paraphrasing.)

So I walked off, while they were still stunned, let Chet into the new loft down the street like it was mine, then ran around the block and reported to the Countess and Flood. Jared was just staring at them like he was hypnotized or something. I was like, “Hey, Boo,” to remind him what a tard he was being and Jared snapped out. (Lily and Jared and I watched the
To Kill a Mockingbird
DVD like six times
together and our favorite part is when Scout sees Boo Radley behind the door and goes, “Hey, Boo.” It’s like thanking the universe for sending you a benevolent retard to help you out, which is how I often feel about Jared.) So I was like, “Buy me a coffee.” And the Countess and Flood look at each other and shake their heads. No money.

So I was like, “You guys are so fucking lame. You have piles of cash and you roll with no money. You are no longer the Dark Lord and Lady of me.” Which I totally didn’t mean, but I was stressed and starting to get a low-on-caffeine headache. But Jared goes, “Hey, Boo” at me, and he’s holding a ten-dollar bill. And I pretended to find a snag in my fishnets so everyone would quit looking at me.

The Countess said she knew of a Chinese diner off Freemont Street that was open all night on Christmas and we could hang out there until the cops left. Jared and I had cups of coffee and an order of fries, which FYI, taste a little like shrimp in a Chinese diner. And Flood and the Countess are watching us, looking all sad. So I’m like, “What? What? What?”

And the Countess is all, “Nothing.”

Which I know is totally something, because I say it all the time. And I watch her eyes follow Jared’s cup as he sips his coffee and I’m all, “Oh, fucksocks, Countess, cowboy the fuck up, would you?” Then I slipped Jared’s dagger out of his boot, grabbed his hand, and poked him in the thumb.

I’d like to say right here that the screaming was totally unnecessary. And what ever the Chinese guy was saying at
me from behind the counter was a total overreaction and how does he expect me to understand him when he’s talking that fast AND in Chinese? Anyway, after I squeezed Jared’s thumb into his cup, then a little into my own and gave it to Flood, everyone calmed down, even the Chinese guy after Jared paid him for two more coffees—and the meeting of the Immortal SOMA Drama Queens officially came to order.

It seemed like we waited forever, and the Countess and Flood wouldn’t answer any of my questions about the
way of the nosferatu
. It was like they had no idea what they were doing. Like last year I took Advanced Foods class (which is like cooking for nerds) after lunch, and so I usually took a nap. Which was fine, because I’m not even thrilled about regular foods, so, you know, what do I need with like advanced digital HD wi-fi foods and whatnot—so I took the course pass-fail and slept. But then, at the end of the semester, my mom springs this trap on me, like—“Oh, Allison, I’ve bought ingredients and you can prepare dinner for Ronnie and me to show what you learned in your Advanced Foods class. It’ll be fun.”

You can pretty much bet that anytime Mom uses the phrase “it’ll be fun,” she is about to drive a stake in fun’s heart so that it may never rise again. Which is what happened. Artichokes? Who eats something like that? I thought it was a weapon.

So anyway, after nine eternities in the diner, we went back to the loft, where the Countess said she had my Christmas present waiting. When we got to the block, the cops
and EMTs were gone and it looked like the coast was clear, but when the Countess opened the security door to the loft, there, sitting on the steps, was the old vampyre, naked.

Well, the Countess and Flood jumped about eighteen feet in the air and I’m pretty sure I peed a little. Yes, I definitely peed. Jared just started an asthma attack, not the whole attack, just the first gasp. He just stopped breathing after that.

So Elijah is all, “I needed to do some laundry.”

Let me say right here, if I haven’t made it clear, that I have seen as many pale, naked old-man parts in the last twenty-four hours to bruise my delicate psyche for a lifetime, so don’t be surprised if you someday find me wandering the moors at midnight, a crazed look in my eye, babbling about albino Tater Tots nesting in Brillo pads and being pursued by sagging man ass, because that shit can happen when you’ve been traumatized.

Then Flood threw himself against the door and screamed for us to run as he bravely held the door against our ancient vampyre ancestor’s assaults. I was beginning to doubt Flood’s ability to fulfill his duties as my Dark Lord until he stepped up and saved us—valiant vampyre hero that he is—because I was starting to think he was just a geek with a passing knowledge of poetry.

As we ran I could hear Elijah saying, “He peed on my tracksuit,” as he threw himself against the door, or I guessed he did, because I didn’t turn around until we were two blocks away.

The Countess was all, “I’ve got to go back for him.” But before she even turned around, my Dark Lord came running around the corner.

And he was all, “Go, go, go!” waving at us.

And we were all, “Where? Where? Where?”

And then as the Countess threw her arms around Flood and started to squeeze the bejeezus out of him, and Jared was all, “Gasp, get a room, gasp,” her watch started beeping. Then Flood’s watch was beeping, too. And they were all, “Uh-oh.”

So we had like ten minutes to find someplace dark to hide them, and no one had any money for a hotel, even if we had the time to check in and whatnot. So they ran toward a big construction site under the Bay Bridge. And I was thinking,
I do not want to bury my masters in the construction site. What if they got paved?
It would totally freak them out to get paved.

And the Countess was all, “How did you get away?”

And the vampyre Flood was all, “The dryer buzzer went off.”

And she was all, “He let you live because his laundry was done?”

And Flood goes, “Lucky, huh?” Totally not out of breath, even with the running.

So when we got to the construction site, everything was either open or would be when everyone came to work. And the Countess looked up into the rafters or what ever of the bridge and goes, “There.”

So there is where we went. I grabbed some tarps that were covering this generator thing by the construction site and Jared and I climbed up into the rafters with our vampyre sires and helped tuck them in just in time for them to go out.