Page 99 of Starved Until Sunset

Clarabell handed both Tracey and Zenona a crucifix and three wooden stakes. As Zenona and Tracey stood behind Lucia, Clarabell raised her eyebrows at Cody.

He shook his head. “First of all, I’m not going to ask where you got all those crucifixes.”

“I might have a bin of them for just such an emergency.”

“Of course you do.” He looked at Lucia and gestured toward the large roll up door in the back wall. “I’ll meet you around back.”

Lucia frowned. “You okay on your own?”

“I’ve never been okay to be left alone, you know that.”

He watched them slip out the front door. As Clarabell started to follow, he called to her.

“Hey, Clarabell. Come be my wingman.”

Her smile was bright and immediate, and she hurried over to him. He led the way to the snow plow and—with some effort and more than a little swearing—climbed up into the cab. The keys dangled from the ignition, and as Clarabell worked her way up into the passenger seat, he looked over the controls. He’d driven the dump truck a number of times, and this was pretty much the same vehicle, just with a big plow on the front.

“This truck was not built for someone my size,” Clarabell said after she pulled the door shut. “You know how to drive this thing?”

“Easy as pie,” Cody said.

A chorus of loud, terrified screams broke out on the other side of the roll up door. These sounded more human, and that got him moving. He twisted the key, and the big engine started right up with a throaty rumble that sent vibrations through their seats. Pressing the brake and clutch, he put the truck into gear and looked over at Clarabell. “Get ready with that squirt gun.”

“You going to open the door?” she asked.

Cody grinned. “Where’s the fun in that?”

He released the clutch and pressed the accelerator to the floor. The truck lurched forward, the massive blade biting into the aluminum roll up door with a screech of metal. The door tore apart and came off the tracks as the truck plowed through it. Cody looked to the right past Clarabell and saw the people he loved struggling against Xavier and a group of vampires. They were seriously outnumbered, and, it appeared, out of holy water.

Clarabell rolled down her window and blasted the nearest vampire as Cody put all his strength into hauling the steering wheel to the right. The tires bumped up over the aluminum door, pulling it from the blade and leaving Cody’s view unobstructed. Demmy was at the end of the line, by the corner of the building, and Cody’s heart leapt at the sight of him. But Xavier was just about to grab for him, and there was no way in hell that fanged fucker was going to get away with it.

“Target practice,” Cody said. “Hold on.”

“Watch out for the others!”

“I see them.” Cody turned the truck toward the wall, then back, leaving what he hoped was several feet between the blade of the plow and his friends. The transmission shrieked as he jammed his foot to the floor, and he smiled at the satisfying bump and thump of the truck running over the line of vampires.

“Jesus Christ and his dog Spot!”

That raspy voice had to be Eileen, and Cody couldn’t wait to give her a strong hug. After he’d given Demmy the longest, deepest kiss in the history of kisses, of course.

The driver’s door was suddenly yanked open, and Cody shouted. He took his foot off the accelerator by reflex, and the truck swerved slightly toward the wall.

“Look out!” Clarabell screamed.

Cody faced forward again, pulling the steering wheel hard to the left, away from the building and, he hoped, everyone standing against it. Then Xavier grabbed him by the arm and hauled him out of the cab, lifting him up from his seat as if he weighed nothing at all. The only thing that saved him was the stream of holy water Clarabell shot. It hit him in the shoulder, and he screamed and released Cody, who fell to the asphalt parking lot, landing hard but keeping enough of his wits to roll away from the truck’s rear tire.

Asphalt bit into his shoulder and scraped across his arms and temple. Once he came to a stop, he forced his sore and beaten body to move, pushing up to his hands and knees and looking after the truck. He watched it rolling to a stop, Clarabell cursing and shouting from where she still sat inside the cab. Around him, the asphalt was slick with the foul-smelling blood of vampires. He hoped to God no human blood was mixed in with it from his stunt with the truck.

“Are you out of your fucking mind?”

That boded well for at least some of the humans still being alive.

Someone approached, short and slight, wearing a coverall with, of all things, a damn Ghostbusters logo on it. It was Agatha, and he smiled, happier than he had any right to be at her angry expression.

“Hey, Aggie.”

“You nearly killed us!” she shouted, then she handed him a crucifix. “Take this, you crazy bastard.”