blood of a marionette

            It was 10 p.m. and Scarlett and Lazarus had just finished watching “IT.”  Scarlett unlatched herself from Lazarus.  She smiled when he untangled himself from her. 

           “Holy crap.  That was a scary movie,” Lazarus said.

            “Yep.  I don’t think I can take a shower with my eyes closed for a while.”

            Lazarus shuddered, and he said, “It’s the worst when monsters come out of the night and chase people.  I’m glad they don’t exist, except for Pyrle, of course.”

            “Pyrle’s not a monster,” Scarlett said.

            He turned and looked at her, putting the wine glass down.

            “What?  Yes he is.  He sucks the blood of students and then sends them off to Truste, Loade, and Surn to do God knows what.”

            “We suck blood too, you know.”

            Lazarus rubbed his cheeks, “Oh.  Yeah.  Well he’s still a monster.”

            She shook her head, and kissed him taking his face in both her hands.

            “Babe,” she said, “There’s something I have to tell you.  Pyrle offered me a chance to start early at the law firm.  He told me it has never been offered or approved by the high ups for someone who hasn’t finished law school.  I think this could be my big break—”

            “Or the loss of your life,” Lazarus interrupted.

            “Hey.  I need you to be supportive of me.  I was there for you at every single part of this relationship.  From the ugly beginning to this beautiful end—middle, I mean.”

            “End?” Lazarus asked, “I really hope you don’t mean that.  Besides, I don’t see Pyrle lasting much longer.”

            He got up and started cleaning up the untouched dinner and wine glasses set out before the movie.  The crumbs on the coffee table made a smiley face.  When he walked back in from the kitchen, Scarlett had bundled up and was getting ready to leave.

            “Why do you say that?” she asked, “What’s going to happen to him?”

            “Nothing that I know of.  He just leads a destructive and evil life.  Something sooner or later is going to get him.  Where are you going?  Aren’t you going to spend the night?”

            She shook her head, “I have to finish unpacking and get ready for classes.  I’ll call you for breakfast?  I would love some more eggs.”

            He came over, and they shared an awkward kiss.  Lazarus sighed.

            “I’m sorry,” he said, “I do support you.  I just think Pyrle is bad news, and who knows?  I’m gonna end up at the same law firm.  Maybe I’ll drop out and come with you.”

            “Thanks,” she said, “Call you tomorrow.  Love you.”

            “Love you, too.”

            Lazarus closed the door behind her, and went back to the couch.  He reached for his book, but his hand stopped as he saw her phone lying on the cover.  Then his phone rang, playing the Imperial March from Star Wars.

            “Yea?”

            “Hey it’s me,” Amelia said, “You ready?”

            “I am.”

            “Come over and we’ll go over to his house.  Wear black.”

            Amelia cut off the phone.  Lazarus sighed again.  He just wanted it over and for everything to go back to normal with Scarlett.  He was scared of what was coming down the pipe because he did not know what was going to come out the end.  Lazarus was pretty sure it was going to involve blood, and he did not want it to be his.

            A half hour later pulled up at Amelia’s apartment.  She let him in, dressed in all black.

            “Are you ready to do this?” she asked.

            “I guess.  Do you have any liquor?”

            “It’s in the truck, for our celebration.”

            “Celebration of what?” he asked.

            She shook her head and closed the door.  They walked to the truck, and Lazarus admired the way the moonlight shone on the hood of her vehicle.  It seemed to make it shimmer as if it were a pane of glass.  The doors creaked open, and small but visible dust mites shot into the air as they climbed into the seats.  Lazarus looked around, aside from the cracked windshield and sun rotted seats, there was a black duffel bag behind the passenger seat and something that did not reflect the moonlight.  It was long, cylindrical, and a dull black.  He reached behind the seat and touched it; it was cold, like ice water.

            “Is that a-?”

            “A gun?  Yes.  A shotgun, in fact.  My father bought it for me when I was twelve and taught me how to shoot.”

            “You’re related to Jessica right?  The girliest girl I knew in college?”

            “Sadly, we are.” Amelia said, “Although she grew up with just living with my mom.  I guess I should have said my step-dad taught me how to shoot.  He was a gun nut.  He and Jessica didn’t get along, so even for being only two years apart, we had radically different lives.”

            Lazarus quickly opened the door, and vomited the little bit of dinner he had ingested earlier while with Scarlett. 

            “This just got real for me,” he said, wiping his mouth, “I can’t do this.”

            “Mmm.  Smells like lasagna.  Man up.  You won’t have to do anything except help me get in the house.  Don’t you hate this guy?  For what he did to you and Scarlett?  For what he made you do to me?”

            “I hate him but not enough to kill him.  You’re crazy by the way.”

            “Well, too bad.”

            She pulled away from the house, and Lazarus felt like he had stepped through the looking glass.  In the distance, another car started its engine.  The small blue Jetta followed Amelia’s truck as it cruised towards the outskirts of the town.  Lazarus felt every bump as they went over the rough roads.

            “I don’t understand how you can be like this,” he said to Amelia.

            She replied without taking her eyes off the road, “You hardly even know me.”

            “Well, I know that, but I got the impression that you were a sweet bird-loving girl who kept to herself.”

            They rounded a curve and swerved to avoid an oncoming police car.  Lazarus swallowed, but Amelia just grinned. 

            “That part is true,” Amelia replied, taking her eyes off the road for a second, “But can’t a girl have multiple interests.”

            “Scarlett did say you had a wild side.”

            Lazarus sensed he had struck a nerve, although it had been unintentional.  Amelia’s knuckles went white on the steering wheel, and the truck picked up speed.  The bumps got rougher.

            “Woah, woah,” Lazarus said, “Slow down.  I don’t want you to get upset.”

            “It’s too late for that.  Can’t you see that I am upset?  I am barely holding it together.”

            “What do you mean?” he asked, “You seemed perfectly normal until a few days ago.”

            Amelia glared daggers at him, and then looked back at the road.

            “Why do you think I watch birds all the time?  It’s to stay away from people,” she said without giving him time to answer, “I had a bad experience with a boyfriend in high school who cheated on me, and when I confronted him about it, he put me in the hospital.  You’re lucky I am not taking this out on you.  I know that Pyrle did it.  I believe you, so that’s why we’re riding to his house.”

            Lazarus gulped.

            “Are you happy with that explanation?” she asked.

            “I didn’t realize,” he said.

            “No, you didn’t, but it doesn’t matter because we’re here.”

            The truck had come to a stop at the end of Pyrle’s street.  It was a short street with only four houses on either side, but to Lazarus it seemed to stretch on like an eternity.

            “Do I have a choice?” he asked.

            “No and neither does your girlfriend.  Get out of the car.”

                         Chapter 17                                                    Chapter 19