It's a wee bit short, but since you aren't paying me, tough.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Chapter 18
Bad Night
It was the strangest after thanksgiving dinner conversation. Instead of a bunch of sappy things we were thankful for we talked about monsters and how to kill them. We argued back and forth about what to do about Michael. My sisters argued that maybe he was a good vampire and that we could keep him in the basement and feed him on pigs’ blood. I reminded them that he had almost killed me. My mother ended the argument with just one sentence. “My son is dead; a monster is all that remains… kill him.”
Anne and Kimberly were worried and asked if there was any danger to their children. Fortunately for them, my sisters were born from another father, and did not have the Miller bloodline running through their veins. Michael and I were the last of the Miller bloodline. I shuddered; no I was the last, they had already gotten my brother. Some soulless undead beast had murdered him by sucking all his blood.
I helped take my sleepy nephews, out to the cars and buckled them in their car seats. Those stupid things kept getting bigger every year. Soon enough the safety Nazis would require us to encase our children in solid blocks of high impact foam. When I was growing up I couldn’t remember ever using a car seat.
Kimberly drove off for home with her three kids. Anne lived much further away so she and her daughter were spending the night; her husband was off at National Guard training somewhere in California.
Right before I was about to turn in for the night, I remembered that my mom had a door mat with welcome in bold letters at the front door. I went outside and tossed it in the trash. There were a lot of things lurking out there that were not welcome. I chuckled to myself at the thought of buying my mother a floor mat that read, ‘Come back with a warrant’.
I looked out across the rooftops of the quiet suburban neighborhood. The sun was setting, and the clouds were lit with a blood-red glow. My life had been changed forever; I used to enjoy beautiful sunsets. Now all they did was fill me with fear. Sunsets were the warning sign for hunters that as soon as it got dark vicious monsters went to work. When I was a kid I was afraid of the dark, I was certain that monsters lived under my bed, or in my closet. I grew up and like all logical adults I told myself that there was nothing to fear in the dark, monsters weren’t lurking in every dark corner of the bedroom. After being awakened to a world of sinister evil, I was afraid of the dark again. Monsters did lurk in the shadows, ready and able to snatch unsuspecting victims and feast upon their blood.
As the sun dipped beneath the horizon I called out to the dark street, “Michael! If you’re out there you have no right to enter this home! Do you hear me?” An elderly couple walking their dog gave me a wide-eyed glance and hurriedly walked past.
Kat was put up in the guest room with my sister, and her six year old daughter; while I got the lumpy couch. Uncle Bob had setup an air mattress on the living room floor. Before bed he retrieved an old 12 gauge pump from his car and leaned it up in the corner. I pulled out my pistol and set it on a little table next to the couch. I had just bought a tactical light and mounted it to the rail in front of the trigger.
Bob and I talked for a while; he told me that after the incident in Laos, he thankfully did not have any more run-ins with the paranormal. I told him about zombies, the Naga underwater monster, and the damned Necro-Devourer beast. I asked him if he had ever been offered work hunting monsters. He said he knew about Lee Miller’s job with MHI, and turned down work from them to start a family.
“Bob, I am sure Monster Hunter International could use a good pilot like you, why don’t you give them a call?” I probed even after all these years he was still a skilled aviator.
Bob shook his head, “Marty, I’ve already had more adventures and danger in my life than I would ever care to repeat. I’m retired now and I have some good hobbies doing woodworking and…”
I cut him off, “Bob you’ve never been the same since Vicki died.” As soon as the words escaped my lips I wanted them back.
His voice grew harsh, “Boy, stay out of my business! I have enough demons of my own to feed without looking for more!”
That was enough talking. After a while my uncle nodded off to sleep. My eyes were getting heavy but I stayed awake. Too many demons were floating in the back of my mind. Where was Mike? Why were vampires after our bloodline? And why did women always talk about childbirth when they got together? The first two questions I could probably figure out, the last one was destined to be more mysterious than the Sphinx.
I wasn’t sure if I was awake or asleep when I heard it. The sliding glass door off the dining room had opened. I kept still, listening; two sets of heavy footsteps crept in from the backyard.
One voice whispered, “Hey, are you sure this is safe, people are home man.”
“Dude, don’t worry, I cased this place out the other day, just some single gal lives here.” The second deeper voice replied. The thieves moved on into the kitchen, the refrigerator opened, spilling a dim light into the room.
“So what are we gonna do if she wakes up?” the henchman asked his mentor.
He chuckled softly as he fished for some food. “I dunno maybe we could have some fun with her?” He said as he closed the fridge, “Crap they ain’t got no beer!” the thief exclaimed obviously frustrated with the lack of free booze.
Silently I sat up and grabbed my XD off the table next to the couch. The weapon had a loaded, magazine inserted but I always left the chamber empty when it wasn’t on my body. I flipped the safety off, and racked the slide. “Bob grab the shotgun!” I yelled as I flipped on my weapon light.
“Holy shit!” the two thieves yelled, as I lit them up with my flashlight. One of them was holding a tire iron and the other had a rusty old revolver, when he started to raise it up I fired two rapid shots, nailing him in the chest. He fell to the floor and the other thief ran for the door, by this time Bob was up and had racked the slide on his trusty old shotgun.
“Freeze!” He yelled as the skinny punk tripped over his baggy pants, his head smacked into the edge of the kitchen table. My blood was pumping and despite the ringing in my ears I could hear the panicked cries coming from the bedrooms down the hall.
“Drop your weapon!” I yelled at the punk who was still clutching the tire iron, “Bob check the guy in the kitchen he’s got a gun!”
He ran into the kitchen and leveled the muzzle of the shotgun at the figure writhing on the floor. The punk dropped his tire iron and stayed still lying on the floor. “Ok idiot, I want your hands, interlock your fingers on top of your head. Cross your legs!” I barked, “Do it now or you’ll look like your buddy!” He complied, while Bob retrieved the revolver off the floor and set it on the kitchen counter.
I moved over to the counter while still covering the punk on the floor, he turned his head to watch me, “Hey! Look at the floor!” I snapped. I held my pistol with one hand and flipped open the cylinder with the other. I dumped the shells out onto the counter and set the pistol back down.
Kat came down the hall, I assumed she had her pistol, but I didn’t want to take my eyes off my target. “Hey you guys ok?” she asked.
“Call an ambulance.” I responded without looking.
The police and ambulance arrived ten minutes later. The injured home invader was rolled out on a stretcher. We had put a makeshift bandage on his wounds, but it looked like he had a collapsed lung. Later I found out that he had died in the operating room. His family would later try to sue me in civil court, but the judge threw the case out.
The second goblin was tried and convicted of burglary, accessory to manslaughter, and assault with a deadly weapon. Unfortunately they only put him away for six years.
As we watched the ambulance drive away, I put my arm around my mother, “Hey mom, you never asked me what I was thankful for today like you usually do.”
She shivered in her bath robe, “OK, so what are you thankful for?”
“I am thankful that I was here tonight, and that you didn’t have to face those thugs alone.” My hands were still shaking even after the danger was over. I couldn’t stop thinking about how it would have played out differently had she been alone. My mother was never fond of firearms.
“Are you thankful for anything else?” Kat said as she slid up behind us.
I thought about it for a moment. “Well yeah, lots of things, .45 autos and beautiful women.” I said with a grin. She smiled back.