Читать книгу Blood & Dust - Jason Nahrung - Страница 12

Kala nosed the Monaro into a rickety timber garage and cut the engine. The silence seemed almost solid, as though the world had changed with the turn of the ignition key. They had driven an hour or more, off the highway and along dirt tracks, until they'd idled over a grid and down to a farm house. Motes glittered in the headlights. A Sandman was parked in the bay beside them, a covered surfboard amongst the baggage strapped to the roof racks.

'Nice,' Kevin said. The panel van was fully tricked out with dolphins diving through sunset surf. The bright paint job seemed incongruous against the rough timber walls lined with cobwebbed hoes and rakes, coils of rusted wire, tin cans hanging on nails.

The headlights flicked off, plunging the garage into darkness. His eyes responded quickly, moonlight turning the doorway into a grey rectangle behind him. 'I know this farm,' he said. Kala sat quietly. Her breathing seemed loud in the quiet; fragile. 'The Crawfords'. You friends of theirs?'

'Never met them.' She opened her door, the cabin light making him flinch. 'We should get inside. It'll be more comfortable there.' She touched his hand. 'You'll be fine. I'll be with you.'

He pulled away. 'Like you were back at the house? At the silo?'

'We didn't have to save you, y'know.'

'Save me from what?'

'It was an accident, okay? None of this was meant to happen.' She stepped out and bent to look at him. 'You need something to eat, that's all.'

'That's all?'

She shut the door, leaving him in darkness again. He reluctantly levered himself from the car, then waited outside as she pulled the garage door shut. Timber slammed on timber, making Kevin jump. 'Taipan?'

'Nope, he'll be gone till tomorrow night at least, I'd say.' Kala kept her voice low. 'Don't worry. They know you're with me.'

The house loomed, dark and silent. Kala led Kevin up the few steps to the veranda. He paused at the top step as a bald, solid man stepped into the moonlight. He held a shotgun and wore a knife in a long, curved scabbard on his belt.

'This the bloke from the garage?' the man asked.

'Yep. Taipan made him.'

'Poor bastard.'

'Kevin, this is Budgie.'

The man answered with a nod.

'Who else is home?' she asked.

'Acacia, Hippie. Nigel. They might still be sleepin'.'

'We'll be quiet.'

'Reg and them went to keep the boss company. The others have already headed back to the nest.'

He opened the door for them. The back of his leather jacket bore the Night Riders' logo - a red-eyed skull with bat wings for ears. They went inside and down a central hall, passing several closed doors. There were pictures on the walls, a cabinet, but Kevin's focus was on Kala and whoever else might be here. The house smelled of dust and detergents and there was an undercurrent of something stale, something rancid - morning breath or mouldy cheese. Something else registered on Kevin's nose. 'Pizza?'

'Probably. Hippie's a pizza junkie.'

'I didn't think, you know-'

'We're not all vampires, Kevin.'

'Oh.' The word 'vampires' jarred. Despite Taipan's demonstration, Kevin still couldn't relate to it. The silos, Meg, Mira, his father: it was like a nightmare, no more real than a movie. Yet here he was, talking about pizza with these weirdos rather than sitting down to dinner at home. Tears burned in his eyes but he refused to let them fall.

'You can have some, if you want,' Kala said. 'It's not like you can't eat.'

'I'm not hungry.'

'Really?'

He shrugged. He was starving, but damned if he was going to admit it.

'I'm gonna get you something, anyway,' Kala said. 'You want a shower?' Her gaze lingered over his clothes, her nose wrinkling.

'Yeah, a shower'd be good.'

Male voices came from the kitchen, one whining, the other older, the drone of a hovering bee.

Whiny said, 'I'm tellin' ya, dude, we should be on the road. VS will be comin' hard after this.'

'No argument from me, man, but Taipan's the boss.'

'He should be bringin' us in, makin' us full blood. We aren't gonna be much use if the big kahuna sends his Gespensten-goons.'

'Hey man, I ain't in no rush to give up the sun. This fuckin' wolfbite's about all I can handle.'

A guillotine of silence fell as Kala and Kevin entered a large room with a lounge suite and dining table. Ammo boxes and guns - a motley tumble of assault rifles, sub-machineguns, handguns, sawn-off shotguns - cluttered the table; the area stank of gunpowder and gun oil. Leather jackets with the Night Rider logo hung from the chairs.

'This is Hippie, feeding his hairy face, as usual.' Kala pointed out a twenty-something bloke with long hair pulled back in a ponytail and a tattered shirt hanging almost to his knees.

The man waved a peace sign as the microwave dinged. 'Ah, McCain,' he said, and popped the door. The smell of freshly nuked pizza was overpowering.

'And Nigel,' Kala said. 'You might've noticed his board out the front on the shaggin' wagon.'

Nigel wore baggy three-quarter pants and a faded T-shirt. A headband kept his mop of sun-blond hair off his tanned forehead. Both men stank of cigarettes, and a sweeter fragrance, one Kevin had come across only rarely: marijuana. He half-heartedly held out his hand. Nigel kept his wrapped around a stubby of beer. Kevin put his hand in his pocket, feeling his face flush with the snub.

Both Hippie and Nigel had rashes on their faces, fanning out from their noses. Now that he could see Kala in the light, he realised she had it, too.

'Are you blokes-'

'Red-eyes, like Kala,' Nigel answered. 'Myxos. You soon learn to tell the difference between master and servant.'

'Bathroom's there,' Kala said, a hand on Kevin's shoulder directing him to a door at the other end of the kitchen. 'I'll find you a spare set of clothes.'

He shut the door and flipped a wire hook through a loop on the jamb to lock it.

'Jesus,' he heard Nigel say, 'how strung out is he?'

'The boss back soon?' Hippie asked.

'Clear out if you want,' Kala told them. 'I'll handle it.'

'Watch yourself,' one of the men said, Hippie maybe, the voice muffled.

Kevin had no idea what they were on about, though he could almost smell their anxiety. He stripped, noting the crusty smears on his torso, a tan pucker where Taipan had shot him. Memories of Meg, scared and bleeding, made him nauseated. You're a vampire. Taipan's words haunted him, so unbelievable he found himself doubting anything was real. Yet the throbbing ache in his chest couldn't be denied. The mineral scent of bore water clouded around him with the steam as he luxuriated under the hot shower, scrubbing himself clean, letting the water spill from his mouth. He lathered himself again and again.

A knock at the door. 'I've made you breakfast,' Kala shouted, 'and I've got you some new clothes.'

'Give me a minute.' Kevin reluctantly stepped out and dried off with the nearest towel from the rack. He opened the door and took the bundle she handed him. He dressed quickly in the jeans and flannelette shirt - not a bad fit, well-worn, the jeans spotted with faint stains. He removed a towel covering the mirror and inspected himself in the spotty, steam-dappled surface. He ran a finger across his teeth. Everything appeared normal. He tried to convince himself the events of the past hours had actually happened, that he had been turned into something other than human. Something simply unbelievable. He felt normal. Totally normal. He pinched his arm. It hurt. Touched the wound on his chest. Felt the smooth, unblemished skin of his throat where that woman, Mira, had ripped into him. She was a ghost in the back of his mind, her thighs around him; her blood in his mouth.

And what about Meg? What had he done to her? She'd been so scared; so scared and so confused. Betrayed. Staring at his reflection, he wondered just who was staring back at him. Fury gripped him. All because of Taipan. 'You sonofabitch,' he yelled, relishing the release as he pounded the mirror to fragments. He clung to the edge of the basin, panting, fighting back sobs, watching uncomprehendingly as the cuts on his knuckles slowly closed.

The door shook as Kala hit it, shouting, 'Kevin? What's going on?'

He took deep breaths, swallowing down the panic and the rage as though they were razorblades. 'It's okay, just an accident.' He clenched and unclenched his fist, willing himself to relax. The sudden violence had helped release the pressure. Hold on, he told himself. Just hold on, and this will all make sense.

But my father will still be dead.

Kevin let out a deep breath, then used his towel to sweep the pieces of glass against the wall.

He opened the door. 'Sorry. I, um, broke the mirror.'

'It happens.' She brushed past. 'Drop your dirties out the back. Brekkie's on the bench.' She gathered his clothes from the corner where he'd kicked them, handed them to him and shut the door.

He heard the plastic crack as the toilet seat was dropped, followed by the echo of tumbling water. He walked away quickly, found no sign of Hippie or Nigel, so threw his dirty clothes onto the back veranda. On the bench, he found a slice of pizza, a mug smelling of coffee and another next to it containing a dark, steaming liquid. He gobbled down the pizza, relishing the bite of pepperoni. His stomach made a gurgle of disagreement. He reached for the coffee but somehow picked up the other mug; sniffed it, and cautiously probed the liquid with his tongue. It made his stomach growl, the saliva flow.

He almost dropped the mug as a woman spoke up behind him. 'Newborn, eh?'

He turned, embarrassment warming his face. It didn't help that the stranger was gorgeous, her skin shiny black, her face framed in dreads.

'I didn't hear you,' he stammered. 'I'm Kev. Kevin. I'm with Kala.'

'Good for her.' The woman leaned back against the fridge, dislodging a magnet shaped like a pineapple. She caught it in one hand and put it back in a fluid move so quick Kevin barely tracked it. There was a finger painting on the fridge: four stick figures besides a house under a yellow sun with long rays. 'The mechanic from the garage, eh?' the woman asked, as though nothing had happened.

'Yeah, that's me.'

She looked him up, down, up again. 'I'm Acacia.' She stood as tall as Kevin and was as wide in the shoulder. The sleeves had been torn from her denim shirt, revealing muscled arms. Several necklaces of beads circled her neck. She smiled broadly, her teeth white, eyes lit with humour, as she pointed to the mug in his hand. 'Don't let me put you off, mate. Most important meal of the day 'n' that.'

'You guys keep calling this breakfast but-'

'We work the night shift,' she said with a wink.

He nodded, and turned away from her to hunch over the mug of blood. It looked like tomato juice gone wrong. His gut churned. With his eyes closed, willing himself to stop smelling it, he sipped. Sipped and groaned in delight. It warmed him all the way to his toes. Numbed his forehead like a generous shot of OP rum. Before he knew it, he was lapping the last traces from the lip of the mug. An uneasy peace wrapped around him, as though he had just finished a huge meal and was ready for a nap. But he couldn't imagine sleeping any time soon. Not after all the weird shit he'd just been through.

'That all right?' Kala asked, a hand on his shoulder. Her fingers smelled of soap.

'Yeah, thanks.' He licked his lips and put the mug down on the sink, pushed it away from him.

'Rinse it,' she said. 'It stains.'

He felt his face flush again. He washed the mug and tipped it upside down on the draining rack. Vampires still had to wash up - bloody typical.

'Quite the neat freak, our Kala,' Acacia said.

Kala hugged Acacia and apologised for waking her. Acacia brushed it away with a wave of her hand, then yawned. 'I was awake. Just wanted to see what was on the stove. He'll need more. A lot more.'

Kala nodded. 'There's not a lot left. I'm hoping Tai will-'

'He shoulda fed him already. The boy's barely standing.'

'He was in a mood.'

'Really?' She rolled her eyes, then added, 'I guess getting staked out by your own sister will do that.' She sighed. 'I'm sure he'll get around to feeding the pup. Anyway, I'm gonna stretch my legs. See if that storm's still building. Shout if you need anything.' She glanced at Kevin with what he took to be either suspicion or amusement, maybe both, then added, serious, 'Budgie's out the front.'

'Why don't I just jump in the car and leave? Get out of your hair?' Kevin asked.

'I don't think that's a good idea,' Kala said. 'Remember the girl at the house - your girlfriend?'

He stared at her, fuming, helpless, confused. Was surprised to see sympathy in her face.

'Stay till tomorrow night,' Kala said. 'When Tai comes back and everyone's, well, calmed down, then he can give you what you need.'

'And what's that? Another bullet?'

'More blood.'

He collapsed into the sofa. 'Was that what I just drank?' he asked, wiping his mouth.

'Decant. Stored blood. It'll keep the hunger at bay. For now.' She sat near him in a stuffed armchair.

'What the hell has happened? Who is Taipan, and why were those guys after him?'

'Until Tai gives the word, I can't say too much. It wouldn't be safe for you, and it wouldn't be safe for us. But basically, Tai found out his sister was out here, so he came looking, but there was a problem and she, well, I guess you could say she called the authorities, invoked a kind of restraining order. They were gonna put him away, but we stopped them. You just kind of got caught in the middle.'

'None of that makes any sense.'

'Sorry, it's the best I can do.'

'And my dad?'

'Unlucky, I guess.'

'Unlucky? So when can I go home?'

'Not now. Trust me, you're better off with us. We can look after you, teach you; and maybe later-'

'I hurt Meg tonight. Really hurt her.'

'She'll be fine. Takes more than a little love bite to turn someone.'

'To turn them?'

'She won't change, if that's what you're worried about.'

'Jesus Christ! I was worried I'd hurt her, not if I'd made her into something - something else.'

'Just be glad I got to you and not VS.' Kala walked to the kitchen and put the electric jug on. 'God knows what they would've done.'

If you tell Taipan what we've just done, you and me, he'll kill you.

He fought the memory, was amazed Kala couldn't see the guilt on his face. 'You guys keep mentioning them,' he said, looking for distraction. 'Who are they, this Vee-Ess mob?'

'Von Schiller. Kind of like, I dunno, BP or some other bunch of arseholes. They're based in Brissie, mainly, and try to lord it over the rest of us, tell us how to behave 'n' that. Real bastards. Anyway, they had a spy watching the house. We were lucky they didn't see us slip out the back.'

'Yeah,' he said, picking his words carefully. 'Lucky.'

Kala poured milk into her cup, as though making coffee and talking about vampires were the most ordinary things in the world.

She hadn't noticed Kevin's nervousness, the way he looked over his shoulder as though expecting to see Taipan there with an axe or a gun.

'VS has a lot of clout in Queensland,' she said. 'They got their hooks in the government and the cops and, well, pretty much everyone who's anyone.'

'My dad died today,' Kevin said quietly. The words seemed shallow; should he write them out fifty times? 'And no-one knows the truth of it.'

'There's no-one to tell,' she said. 'There's no-one you can trust. No-one who can make a difference, anyway.'

'There has to be someone. Dad's gone, the servo's gone - what are we going to do?'

'Your days of pumping petrol are over, Kev. Unless you want to run an all-night servo.'

He stared at the wall, trying to see past it to a future he couldn't even begin to fathom. The present was still far too slippery.

'Come on,' she said. 'It's getting late and I think we both could use a rest. Even you creatures of the night can use some kip, especially when you're still in the change. I'll show you where you can crash. We can talk more tomorrow.' Kala pointed toward the hall. 'This way.'

He followed. House dust tickled his nostrils, along with perfume and sweat, grease, nicotine, beer. And under all of that, the distinctive odour of blood. Damn, but he was still so hungry.

'This one,' she said, opening a door.

The room was about as big as his own bedroom. Black plastic had been taped across the window, a blanket draped across the mirror on the dresser. There was a single bed with a Star Wars doona, a small table and chairs, a box of toys. A khaki backpack sat on the table, showing a can of deodorant and a black bra through its open zip.

He hesitated at the door, reluctant to enter. 'Whose room is this, anyway?'

'Mine, now.' Kala yawned. 'We keep the mirrors covered as a courtesy.'

'Hey?'

'It takes a while, sometimes, to get used to the new you. Some never do, really.'

He flexed his hand, the cuts healed, the pain gone. 'Sure.' He sat down on the bed, making the springs squeak.

She grabbed the backpack.

'You're leaving?'

'I'll crash next door. You need your space, but shout if you need anything.'

He lay back, arms behind his head, eyes fixed on the ceiling spotted with stick-on stars and moons. It struck him that the false sky was possibly the most honest thing in his life right now. He was, apparently, a monster, one of many, and out there somewhere, out there in the world that he thought he'd understood but was clearly false, other monsters were hunting him. What in the hell could he do about that?