Andrew Fox - Fat White Vampire Blues

“Oww.”Malice X looked down at the dart protruding from his shoulder, a disbelieving look on his face. He clutched the tail of the dart and yanked it loose, offering no more than a brief grimace, although blood ran freely down his partly bare chest, staining his white silk shirt. He crushed the dart to splinters in his fist. Then he leaned down to the cobblestones and scooped up his medallion, dropping it into a pocket beneath one of his jacket’s winglike lapels.

“Huh. You actually managed tosurprise me. Didn’t think you could do that. Tell you what. Since you managed to exceed my expectations, you get to say your piece.”

Jules didn’t relax his aim. “That’s mighty cocky, fer a guy who’s got a gun pointed at his heart.”

“Hey-either you can waste my patience on stale macho banter, or you can say your piece. Your choice, fat man.”

Jules took a deep breath. Although his heart still beat double time, he felt calm. Amazingly calm. “Okay. This shit between you and me, it ends here. Tonight. Look, I can understand you bein‘ pissed off at me and all. I know how Maureen can be. I know how that woman can get under your skin, believe me. But you’ve had your pound a flesh. You burned down my house. You destroyed a century’s worth of good stuff. You made my life hell for a month. Enough is enough already.”

Jules gathered his thoughts. He’d start the bargaining a little high; it was always smart to ask for more than you really wanted. “Now me, I’m a reasonable man. I got you in my crosshairs. I could kill you right now. But I’m not gonna. I’m not gonna, ‘cause we’re gonna make us a deal. Bottom line: There’s no way in hell I’m leavin’ New Orleans. I was born here back when William McKinley was president. This town’s in my blood. That’s Number One. Two: A vampire in this town can’t expect to make any kinda decent livin‘ preying on white victims only. The wayI see things, vampires is vampires and victims is victims, no matter what color they are. A fair share is a fair share, period. And that’s all I want-my fair share. Here’s my deal. I can make do with, oh, let’s say one black victim every two weeks. Twenty-six a year. No, tell you what, we’ll make that twenty-fivea year, ’cause I’ll skip one black victim in honor of Black History Month.”

Malice X looked at Jules with the same disbelief as when he’d stared down at the dart protruding from his body. Only this time, the disbelieving look dissolved into laughter so hard he doubled over and clutched his knees. “Man,that’s thefunniest fuckin‘ shit I heard all month!” He wiped his eyes with a monogrammed silk handkerchief snatched from his pocket. “I’m tempted to keep you around just for yucks. You want a deal?Here’s the deal. I play around with you ’til it ain’t no fun anymore. Then I kill you. Deal?”

Jules didn’t see any reason for laughter. “I’m still the one holding the gun, asshole. Maybe after your return trip from Fantasy Island you’ll be willin‘ to talk turkey-” He was distracted by cold, wet noses burrowing beneath his pant legs. He glanced down to see two pairs of gray canine eyes staring into his. “ Again?Fuckin’ mutts been doggin‘ me all night long! Shoo! Geddoutta here!” Keeping the gun pointed at his adversary, Jules kicked furiously at the two large dogs, whose muzzles and tails flashed within the folds of his black cloak. “Doodlebug! How about makin’ yourself useful here?”

“Uh, Jules, I don’t think these animals aredogs — ”

Malice X’s sharp, high-pitched laughter echoed through the alleyway again. “And you thinkI’m the one on a trip to Fantasy Island? I knew you’d be comin‘ after me here. Didn’t take no big detective work; I knew it from what you stole from my sister’s house. It was just a matter of waitin’ for you to show. And since you read my business binders, you know I’m the source for a new, improved type of street drug, a derivative of heroin I call Horse-X, patent pending. What youdon’t know is what it is that makes my Horse-X so special. Oh, sure, it’s three times as potent as run-of-the-mill heroin; that’s what makes it attractive to the user. What makes it attractive tome, apart from the fact that it buys me things like this fine-ass Cadillac car here, is a veryinteresting property of my blood when it’s combined with an opiate. See, anybody who snorts or shoots up the stuff becomesexquisitely sensitive to my hypnotic powers. I don’t even hafta be lookin‘ at ’em, Jules-if they’re within a quarter mile of me, all I hafta do isthink real hard about what I want ‘em to do, and I play the suckers like dime-store kazoos.”

The black vampire smiled. “Now, how many users and abusers of Horse-X do you figure are hangin‘ within a quarter mile of this herelovely alleyway?”

“Kill him, Jules,” Doodlebug said, his voice hard as tempered steel. “Kill him while you still can.”

Jules’s thoughts were as scattered as the blobs of color in a Jackson Pollock painting. It had been so perfect. He’d been doing it allhis way. But now everything was spinning out of control again “Jules!”

“What-?”

“Ohshit, just give it here-”

Doodlebug grabbed the gun from Jules’s hands. With a fluid and intuitive motion, he fired a pair of wooden shafts directly at Malice X’s heart.

“Too slow, little mama!” The darts struck and pierced Malice X’s velvet jacket, but the wily vampire had already transformed his upper torso to mist. The projectiles clattered harmlessly against the far wall.

Other sounds jolted Jules from his stasis. From somewhere above him, hurried footsteps scuffled, dislodging roof tiles that exploded to dust on the cobblestones below. Heavy fabric unfurled, disturbing the stagnant air in the alleyway. Jules looked up. The storm clouds and faint stars were partially blocked by the tight mesh of a heavy-gauge net, no doubt put there by some of Malice’s faceless minions. This batproof barrier covered the entire top of the alleyway.

But not the entrance. Malice X stood at the back of the alley. They could make a break for it Jules swiveled away from his nemesis. Behind him, Doodlebug had already trained Tiny Idaho’s gun on a new set of targets. The dogs-no,wolves — were shimmering like oil slicks on water, their forms elongating, growing more muscular and less hirsute. Their faces foreshortened, taking on features that Jules knew all too well-the feral leers of the vampires who had hunted him through the streets of the Quarter.

That wasn’t the worst of it. Far from it. Jules’s balls shriveled when he heard the staccato impacts coming from the street, like the approach of a rapidly moving hailstorm. But it wasn’t hail. It was the sound of dozens of footfalls. Dozens of mind-controlled zombies converging on the alleyway.

The Hooded Terror closed his eyes and wished he were back at the bayou again.

Too fast-everything was happening toofast!

Jules rushed Malice X, trying to pin him against the wall with his superior bulk. But his antagonist avoided Jules’s clumsy lunge easily, leaping over him onto the roof of the Cadillac.

An inhuman scream made Jules turn back to the alley’s entrance. Doodlebug had fired two darts into the face of the shorter of Malice X’s two vampire lieutenants, catching him midway through his transformation from wolf to man. Almost simultaneously, Doodlebug hurled a vicious side kick through the taller vampire’s midsection. Jules recognized this vampire as Cowboy Hat, the leader of the toughs who’d attacked him near Maureen’s. The kick dislodged wet hunks of gray proto-matter, splattering them against the brick wall, disrupting Cowboy Hat’s change back to human.

“Jules! Catch!”

Doodlebug pitched the crossbow back toward Jules. It missed the net covering the top of the alleyway by inches. The big vampire reached up and-yes! Caughtit! The catch felt like the climax of a recurring dream. He was back on the St. Ignatius football field, running long for a decisive touchdown. Usually he dropped the ball, but tonight-well, tonight he caught the gun, all right, but his thick fingers got wedged in the magazine, spilling darts and garlic pellets onto the ground.