First Kill: A Dave Carver Novella by Andrew Dudek Read Free Book Online Page A

curse
and tighten his grip on my arm. I could smell the cigarette on his
breath. “Hold still, son.”
    “Sorry.”
    The tattooer grumbled something
unintelligible and looked at Nate. “You got ‘em? All
four?”
    Nate’s eyes flashed. “There were only
three.”
    “That’s not what I
heard.”
    Nate looked at me. “Was there a fourth
vamp?”
    I shook my head, making sure to keep
my arm from moving, and thought for a moment. “I was there almost
four hours before we went in. No one left the cellar and no one
entered. There was no one else there.”
    “Maybe he had a fight with
the nest and got kicked out,” Squirrel said.
    “Maybe.” But Nate didn’t
sound convinced.
    “Anyway,” Squirrel said,
“I got another tip.”
    “Already? That was
fast.”
    “Yeah. There’s an old
rectory across from Pelham Park, near the Sound. About six miles
east of here.”
    “How many?” Nate was all
business now. The amusement was gone from his face, and his voice
was as hard as a soldier’s. I noticed his right hand was dangling,
almost subconsciously near the handle of his machete.
    “As many as six. Supposed
to be hunkered down pretty good in the basement.”
    I gulped, loud enough to be heard. The
others looked at me. “Sorry,” I said. “I think I’m just a little
dehydrated.”
    Squirrel shook his head. He shut off
the tattoo gun and pulled it from my arm. I sucked in a breath I
hadn’t even realized I’d been holding. The break from the pain was
a blessed relief.
    “That’s a lot of
vampires,” Squirrel said. “Don’t rush into it. Scout it out first,
make sure you can handle it.”
    Nate’s eyes narrowed and I suddenly
wanted to be someplace else. “Don’t tell me how to do my job,
Squirrel.”
    “I’m not—all I’m saying is
watch your back. Don’t get these kids killed.”
    They glared at each for a long moment,
their eyes locked like a pair of rival lions. Nate finally nodded,
as if accepting an unspoken apology that I hadn’t
detected.
    “You’re right, man. Of
course we’ll be careful. You know me—I’m always
careful.”
    Squirrel frowned, but he went back to
work on my tattoo without further comment.
    Nate smiled faintly. “Seriously, Dave,
good work today. When you’re done here get some sleep.” He shot a
glance at Squirrel, but the man’s face was steadfast on his work.
“It looks like we’re gonna have another busy night
tonight.”
     
    I tried to sleep, beneath a stolen
comforter in a spot near the stairs. I kept closing my eyes, but I
couldn’t make them stay closed. They kept opening so I could stare
at my tattoo.
    By any objective measure,
it should have been horrifying: a human-shaped skull with its jaws
hideously distended, its mouth full of razor teeth. The business
end of an ax was buried between the empty eye sockets, and droplets
of blood blood ran down the front. The tattoo stood stark against
the pale skin of my upper arm, the colors bright and vibrant.
Blood—real blood, my blood—was smeared, soaking the sleeve of my shirt, reminding
me, in a strange way, that I was no longer alone. For the first
time since my mom had died, I had a real family. I had a place
where I belonged.
    And now I had proof, and no one could
take it from me.
    The handle of the ax
rested near my head, where I could grab it in a hurry if I needed.
I was already adopting the sleeping practices of the Family: always
be prepared. As I closed my eyes and drifted off, though, I knew I
wouldn’t need the ax. The subway platform may not have been a
traditional home, or the kind I’d have chosen for myself, but
it was a home.
And there was one thing I knew for sure: Home meant
safety.
     
    Chapter 9: Victories and Losses
     
    We marched across the Bronx to Pelham
Park. There was an old rectory across a street, next to a mostly
abandoned church. People weren’t using this place to worship
anymore—they weren’t using it for anything. The vampires were
spreading.
    According to Squirrel,