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Garbage

She still wore the sweatshirt with the white 47, now stained with soggy spurts of blood. Gingerly he reached his arm under and touched her cold shoulder.

Her head flopped to the side and her eyes looked at him, hollow, like coins for the ferryman. He shrieked and jerked back.

But nothing else happened. Her eyes looked at nothing. His heart pounded so he could only just hear his mother’s rapid-fire knock. “Honey? Jeremy, are you alright?”

Turning his back on the pale corpse, he gulped two deep breaths before calling out, “I stubbed my, um, my fucking toe.”

“Oh honey, language.” Her footsteps walked unsteadily away and he, having sworn deliberately for just that end, forgot her.

Silently he reached under the bed and closed her eyes again. How did they keep dead people’s eyes from popping open in funeral homes, he wondered vaguely, putting empty arms around himself.

Finally his parents took their sad selves to bed. It was time for what he had to do. At least he could do it without their sympathy.

He pulled her poor body from under the bed. She seemed to weigh more: did that mean anything? A hint of decay hit his nostrils, a fishy fart-like smell, another stone on his heart.

He could have dragged her; it wouldn’t make any difference now. But he picked her up tenderly as he had this morning, so full of hope. Fresh tears fell as he carried her to the heavy red front door where he’d stood with Alec five years ago and laid her small body down.

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He had to do it this way, he couldn’t possibly bury her anywhere without being spotted. The door creaked when he opened it, just like it had five years ago.

Vampires materialized on the front stoop, their careless feet on the bristly woven-hemp mat where the word Welcome had been crossed out with red paint. Nighttime voices began whispering.

With pleading eyes, he said, “You guys? She was your Queen. Take her… someplace nice? Be nice to her?”

The white faces only watched to see if he’d stick a finger beyond the line of the doorframe.

He steeled himself and pushed. The instant she was beyond the door the maddened sharks yanked her from him.

He’d meant to take one last look at her dear face but he’d forgotten. Now he got that look….

Gagging, he slammed the door and sat with his back against it. That whirlwind of carnage was what he’d see whenever he thought of her.

The love that had touched his empty life was gone. He hadn’t even been able to bury her and mourn, like a human being.

Rage boiled: he’d had to put her outside like garbage! That damn, murdering vampire!

Like an animated corpse he yanked out his phone. He’d post the address of that deadly house on the internet … but he didn’t know the address. KerriAnne had taken him there.

The phone was warm from his pocket, warmer than his hands. He didn’t need to know the address. He could lead his friends there.

He thumbed a message: “Weeks of detec wrk paid off. Found nest of vampires. Wanna party?”

Brandon replied almost at once. “Dude! Lng time, whr tf?” And then four words that set his heart blazing. “Say where and when.”

Once he was planning, he didn’t hurt as much. Daytime or nighttime? It would have to be daytime: he wasn’t “at home” with Brandon, Satsuki and Keevian, not enough to walk the streets.

And then the perfect plan dropped into his head like a gift.

With tight lips and fierce eyes, he sent three more texts, then got up to head for his empty bed.