Derek Landy - American Monsters

She smiled, and blew the candle out. She didn’t bother making a wish.

Milo had a non-alcoholic beer and they sat there for a bit, enjoying the breeze and the trees, until Amber’s gut pulled them back to the car and on to the road.

While they drove, she slept, and dreamed, and in her dream she was back at Stromquist’s Undertakers and Coffin Makers. She found her brother sitting with his head down. “I went to the police,” he said. “I told them. I thought they could help.”

Amber heard gunshots, and she ran to the corner of the building, saw a police officer in an old-fashioned uniform stumbling back, trying to reload his revolver. The tall man in the undertaker clothes stalked after him, tossing away the lifeless body of the cop’s partner.

The cop managed to fire once more, straight into the undertaker’s chest, before the undertaker smacked the gun out of his grip. Then the undertaker held up his hand, and his palm opened, revealing teeth, and he clamped his hand round the cop’s throat, and the cop cried out, tried to pull away, but the taller man was too strong. Blood ran down the cop’s neck, staining his uniform, and the undertaker stood there, eyes closed.

James walked up behind Amber. “He’s a monster,” he said. “Sucks the life out of people.”

“A vampire,” she said. “He’s called a vampire.”

James shrugged. “Don’t know the word. If you say so. He still has Molly, somewhere in there. I’ve been trying to get in. Yesterday I grew claws. I might be a monster, too.”

“Our parents are the monsters,” Amber said. “Not us.”

He shrugged again, and, while the undertaker was busy feeding on the cop, the door to the funeral home opened behind him. Amber’s demon-self beckoned James through, and he ran over and slipped in.

Her demon-self walked over to Amber.

“Is this real?” Amber asked her. “It feels … real. But not.”

“It’s a dream,” said her demon-self. “The Shining Demon’s blood is letting you latch on to the memories of your dead brother from 1914. Pretty freaky, if you ask me.”

“So that was him?” Amber asked. “That was really James?”

“No. It’s a dream of James. God, you’re stupid.”

“So why am I dreaming this?”

“Because you always dream of your dead siblings before you die,” said her demon-self. “Didn’t you know that?”

Amber woke suddenly. She was still in the Charger. They were still travelling.

“You okay?” Milo asked, without taking his eyes off the road.

“Fine,” she said, straightening up. “Just a dream.”

“You were talking in your sleep.”

“What’d I say?”

“Don’t know. Couldn’t make it out.” He glanced at her. “You sure you’re okay? You look like you’ve been crying.”

She frowned, and wiped tears from her cheek.

“Huh,” she said.

THEY DROVE FOR THREE days, closing in on her parents with every mile they covered, before something new twisted in Amber’s gut.

“No,” she muttered.

Milo glanced at her. “What?”

“Nothing,” she said, and immediately the pain started.

She whacked her closed fist against the dash. Milo didn’t say anything, but he looked displeased.

“Got another one,” she said through clenched teeth. “That way.”

“South.”

“Yeah.”

“So we’re letting your folks get away again?”

“It’s not my choice, Milo. Like you said, Astaroth’s the boss, and when the boss tells you to do a job you do the job, or you’re put through a hell of a lot of pain.”

Milo nodded, and when they came to the next off-ramp they left the highway. Immediately, the pain went away.

“Who is it?” Milo asked.

She closed her eyes, pushed her irritation to one side, and focused. A face and a name swam into her thoughts.

“Your old buddy,” she said. “Elias Mauk. I have to collect his offering.”

Milo grunted. “This ought to be fun.”

It was torture, to deviate from their mission when her parents were so close, but they got to where they were going by nightfall, and Amber fired up the iPad to find out where exactly that was. Apparently, they were just outside of Senoia, Georgia. From what she could see, their immediate surroundings consisted mostly of trees.

They got out. The air was sweet with the scent of pine. Amber shifted and the smell got even sharper.

“Now where?” Milo asked.

“Not sure,” she said. “When I’m miles away, I know exactly which direction to go in, but when I’m this close it all goes kinda vague. What do you say we follow the path?”

It was little more than a trail through the trees, and Amber led the way. They heard shouts in the distance and knew they were going in the right direction.

They came to a clearing. Elias Mauk stood with his back to them. He wore a faded boiler suit and a grubby baseball cap, and he was looking up the hill at a cabin surrounded by moaning, groaning, shuffling dead people. Amber waited for Milo to get in position, and then she shifted and stepped out.

“Hello, Elias.”

Mauk whirled, eyes widening. His hand went to the claw hammer in his belt, but Milo was suddenly behind him, gun pressed to his head.

Mauk froze.

“So good to see you again,” Amber said, smiling brightly. “The last time we spoke was, like, ages ago. Remember that? Remember when you broke all my fingers? You remember?”

Wary of the gun to his head, Mauk sneered. “Yeah,” he said, in that hoarse voice of his. “I remember.”

Amber took the hammer from his belt. “This is it, isn’t it? This is the one you used? It definitely looks like the one you used to break my fingers, but what do I know? I’m no hammer expert. I barely know how to use one.” She held it up. “This is the end you hammer with, right?”

Without waiting for an answer, she ducked down and swung the hammer into his right knee. Mauk howled, clutching his leg even as he collapsed. His cap fell off and he rolled over it.

“Yep,” said Amber, “that’s the end you hammer with.”

“You little bitch!” Mauk yelled. “I’ll beat your head in! I’ll crack your skull like an egg!”

“Like this?” she asked, and tapped the hammer off his forehead, right on the band of burnt skin that ran around his skull. He rolled back, hands alternating between his head and knee, like he couldn’t decide which hurt more. Eventually, he settled on his head.

“I don’t like being called names, Elias. Don’t do it again, you understand me?”

He glared up at her.

“You can’t kill me,” he said. “You tried shooting me and I got right back up again, didn’t I?”

“Technically, it was Milo who shot you,” Amber said.

Mauk switched his gaze to Milo. “Traitor. We used to be partners.”

“I don’t remember anything about that,” said Milo, “but I doubt it’s true. Even when I was a bad guy, you would have annoyed me.”

Mauk barked a laugh. “And what are you now – a hero? That’s laughable! Laughable! ”

Amber nodded. “Laughable, he says.”

“Repeated it, too,” said Milo.

“So you just know he meant it.”

Mauk glared at them both, but the hammer and the gun kept his retorts unspoken. He got up slowly, and they didn’t move to stop him. “So that’s why you’re here, is it?” he asked, straightening. “You want a little revenge? What are you gonna do – you gonna break my fingers now? Maybe my toes, too?”

Amber made a face. “I do not want to see your feet, Elias. That’s gross. Feet are the worst part of the human body. We’re not here to get revenge on you. This isn’t personal. It’s business. I see you looking around as I’m talking. First of all, that’s very rude. Second, are you expecting someone?”