Gerald Dean Rice's Blog, page 113

Dry - 10

Monster was upside down.

 

It took him a moment to orient himself, but then he realized the box that had been in the passenger seat was now on his head.

 

He smelled booze. A bottle must have broken.

 

Monster shoved the box off his head and a bottle fell on his face. It leaked and the cool contents felt… fantastic. He overturned the broken bottle and poured the rest out. It wasn't enough. He grabbed another and unscrewed it and as the contents gurgled onto his head he felt like he could think more clearly.

 

He had to get out of this truck. Uncle Bill was dead. He had to take him out the back. He had to find someplace safe.

 

Monster had to kick the window out and crawl his way through onto a patch of grass. He was off the street, but that wasn't necessarily a good thing. A U-Haul would have left tracks in soil and more than likely those nuts would be able to follow.

 

Monster finally found his feet, using the side of the truck to prop himself up. The world spun a couple times before he could stand on his own. He walked to the back and saw the back was already open.

 

Uncle Bill was about thirty feet back, sprawled out across some bushes. A box of Crème de Menthe was cracked open and he reached in and took one. Monster's leg was stiffening and he had to jog-run over to his uncle.

 

He stuffed the Crème de Menthe into his back pocket and dragged Uncle Bill past the truck. He could hear them coming.

 

There was a big building on his left. He went away from it before coming to a street. It was quiet here, but he couldn't risk it, more of those crazies could show up. He slid Uncle Bill's stiff body beneath a car and followed. All that work had set his head on fire again.

 

He reached for the Crème de Menthe.

Dry - 9

"What do you people want with me?" Monster tried to ask, but it came out "Hmma grar piff, hah?"

 

"Please don't eat me." The fairy said, except… she didn't look like a fairy any more. She looked like a woman in a costume.

 

Could this insanity finally be wearing off?

 

Monster tugged at the sack on his head again. He thought he heard a stitch give, but it still wouldn't budge.

 

He had to figure a way out of this place. Maybe… maybe he could use her to do it. He snatched the woman up by the arm.

 

"My friend…"

 

Monster whirled at the sound of Cazir's voice. At first he didn't see him, but he spotted him floating by a tree.

 

"My friend, there isn't much time."

 

Cazir's English had gotten a lot better. Wait, Monster realized he wasn't speaking English. Whatever it was he could understand the man perfectly.

 

"You were not supposed to wear the sack on your head. You should have had a mask like me. I didn't realize you would have someone with you. We could have observed tonight together in safety."

 

"What?" Monster tried to say.

 

"I'm sorry, my friend, but I do not understand you."

 

Apparently, whatever allowed Monster to understand Cazire wasn't a two-way connection. He gestured for him to continue.

 

"It will be over at midnight. This is tradition in my village. We wear masks and drink the wine and then the spirits inhabit us.

 

"The spirits—while they are inside of us we are immune to death… mostly. But the tradition is meant for us to exact vengeance on the spirits that have wronged us. They are evil. All of them."

 

Evil spirits.

 

"Bahrspah," Monster said.

 

"My friend, it is true. Had your cousin put on his mask he would be safe. As it stands, he is dormant."

 

"Dmah?"

 

"Yes. After midnight he should awaken. Unless…"

 

"Unff?"

 

"Unless something happens to him before he is to awaken."

 

"Ahrr narrrr."

 

Three feet of dirt might do the trick. He had to get back there ASAP.

 

There was noise from the woods. They had to move. He snatched off the woman's purse and dug out her ID.

 

"Hrr," he growled, pointing to the address on her license.

 

"You want me to take you home?" the former fairy said. She put her hand to her chest and fluttered her eyes. "What kind of lady do you think I am?"

 

"Hrr!" Monster screamed.

 

He had to get off the street long enough for this mob to pass him by. He had to get back to Uncle Bill before it was too late.

 

And he needed a drink. He poured the last of the Crème-de Menthe over the burlap sack and tossed it. His head was getting hot again.

REVISION IN THE TEXT!

A drawback to blogging a story as you're writing it is the inevitable change.  I lucked out and didn't have anything major with 30 Minute Plan but I just realized something I need to change with Dry.  And it's at the very beginning.  So if you're reading this on Facebook, Goodreads or Amazon you're going to have to come to my blog to re-read the first entry for to fill in a huge plothole.

 

That is all.

Dry - 8

This was offensive. They were coming after him like he was the Frankenstein, but they had attacked him. They were the Frankensteins. Monster had never been a fighter, in fact, he'd always played peacekeeper. His size had always kept him out of trouble.

 

But these people… Monster knelt and slapped Uncle Bill's face. He didn't move.

 

"Uncle Bill?" He shook him. Nothing. "Uncle Bill!" Monster felt for a pulse and drew his hand away. He was stone cold. How could that be? It was eighty-something degrees outside.

 

He had to get him breathing. Monster was certified. He checked Uncle Bill's mouth for obstructions. Clear. He went to yank the sack off his head and almost fell over. It wouldn't come off.

 

Monster pulled at it with both hands. It was really on there. How was he going to give his uncle mouth-to-mouth with this sack on? He had to try. Maybe there was something around he could use as a facemask and pump air into his lungs.

 

He had no clue what they did here, though. Cazire didn't want them at his liquor store—too much risk. He owned this building—well Monster guessed he did—and they'd always loaded up here.

 

He looked over at the truck. It was loaded up and ready. Monster mentally kicked himself for not leaving as soon as everything was loaded up; he always stayed too long.

 

I'll put him in the truck, he thought. Then I can drive to a hospital.

 

He ignored the voice in the back of his head telling him cold, non-breathing people don't get resuscitated and picked Uncle Bill up by the armpits.

 

"Oh no," Monster said, but it came out, "Wahr rahhhh."

 

Uncle Bill was stiff as a board.

 

Something heavy punched the door.

 

If Monster couldn't save his uncle's life, he'd save his body. He dragged him to the rear of the truck and opened the back. As small as Uncle Bill was it wasn't easy getting his frozen body inside. He had to half prop him up and somehow managed to keep him in place while he climbed in and dragged his uncle the rest of the way inside.

 

Monster got out, shut the back and latched it. He ran around to the front and hopped in, wishing he'd dug out his keys before he sat down.

 

The door shook again as he finally fished out his keys. He turned the key in the ignition and the engine roared to life. He hoped he could punch through this door because the keys were still with Cazire, where ever he was.

 

His head was hot. He looked over at the box of filled with bottles of alcohol in the passenger seat and licked his lips. No. Now was not a time for a drink. He threw the U-Haul in Drive and stomped on the gas as the door flew off the hinges.

Horror House

I just finished an interview with Horror House.  It should be up shortly.  I'll post the link when I have it.

Dry - 7

"Now you've done it," she said, her face twisted in fury. She pulled her arm back behind her, high over her head and swung down at him.

 

Monster caught her wrist. He squeezed until the wand dropped to the ground.

 

"Hey—ouch."

 

"Stop it!" he said, but it came out, "HUMMAR!" He shook her. He shook her some more. He shook her until her face turned green in the haze of the blue street light. He realized her feet were off the ground when he let her go.

 

She crashed to the ground and began throwing up. When he looked at her again he realized her wings were just wings.

 

Is that what this is? he thought. Some kind of magical spell?

 

His mind went back to Cazire. What had that man done?

 

#

 

Monster was alive. He was disoriented and his ears rang, but he began to dig himself out of the rubble.

 

"Uncle Bill!" he shouted, but he couldn't hear himself. He could see figures in the smoke and plaster dust still in the air. Whoever they were, he didn't want to be around by the time they got here.

 

"It's still alive!" a man's voice called.

 

"Get him!" another said. "Get Frankenstein!"

 

"Frankenstein?" he said, but his voice was all wrong. He had to move. They'd already blown them up, he didn't want to see what was next. He found Uncle Bill beneath the desk Cazire's jug of hooch was on, standing on its side. Monster got a hand underneath it and heaved with his legs, tossing it aside.

 

"Oh my god, it tried to kill me!" a woman shouted. There was a gunshot and Monster felt a bullet whiz by him.

 

"There it is!"

 

He dug under Uncle Bill and dragged him out by the armpits. The air was getting clearer by the moment and Monster saw a half dozen people standing in the rubble.

 

"Oh my god, it's hideous!" a human skeleton said.

 

A woman with fire red lipstick who was either a nurse or a prostitute pointed. "Let's get it." They all advanced on him and Uncle Bill. He retreated behind out of the former office area into the warehouse and shut the door. Monster hadn't seen the guy with the launcher and he hoped he wasn't going back for another rocket.

 

He lay Uncle Bill down and worked on getting the door shut. Something big pounded on the door, but he was able to keep it closed with his big frame.

 

"We know you're in there, you Frankenstein! Come on out!"

 

"No!" he screamed, but it came out like, "BLAAAAGH!"

Dry - 6

"Cazeer, there ain't no one else here, but us."

 

"No. The people across the streets. They have party. I gave them mask along with their… how you say—hooch—and it begin soon."

 

"What begin soon?" Uncle Bill said.

 

"The celebrate."

 

Monster looked out the window. Sure enough, there were several people walking across the street in their direction. A man had something over his shoulder. It looked like…

 

"A rocket launcher?" Monster thought that was funny.

 

Until the room exploded.

#

 

"Hey, there he is!" The fireman pointed right at him.

 

"Where?" a fairy asked. She flapped her wings and floated up. Monster thought about dropping out of the tree and trying to land on the fireman, but he was too high up. He might miss. Hell, he might fall on him and still break his legs.

 

THWACK! went the axe into the tree. Monster's breath caught in his chest. He could see them gathering beneath him. There was nowhere to run. The fireman yanked the axe out of the tree as the fairy came eye level with Monster. A couple of the hounds barked up at him.

 

"You're going to die," she said. THWACK! went the axe again. "You'll burn in a pyre and we'll dance. We'll all dance naked while you cook to death and your eyes pop out of your skull and your flesh peels off your bones. We'll all dance. And then we'll do it."

 

"What the hell do you people want with me?" he tried to ask, but it was no good through the mask. In came out like unintelligible screaming to even his ears (which was weird underneath the mask). Like Frankenstein.

 

She hovered closer, making sounds like a snake hissing intermittently. THWACK! It wasn't going to take that fireman too long at this rate. She raised her wand, clutched in her hand like a dagger. Monster could feel the popping of the trunk between his thighs. It was going to give soon. He had to chance it.

 

He took a swipe at the fairy, his giant paw smacking off the side of her head. Her eyes rolled around in her head and he reached out and grabbed onto her.

 

They dipped, his considerable extra weight too much for her magical wings. The world went into a blender as they spun and Monster closed his eyes. He heard the tree give and a second later he could hear several people scream.

 

Instead of crashing they leveled out about a dozen feet in the air. The fairy shook her head and stared down at Monster, gripped about her waist and thighs.

 

"You!" she said and reared back with that wand again.

 

He let go and tumbled when he hit the ground. Monster was still picking himself up when she floated over to him.

Dry - 5

"To business." He took a pull and had to blink several times. His eyeballs felt like they were sweating. "What is this hooch?"

 

"Not a… not a… English word for it. I make back home. Many times."

 

"I thought you were a Muslim or something?"

 

Cazire turned his head and spat then mumbled something in another language.

 

"Oh."

 

"No, my friend." Cazire's smile was back in place. "We are Christians." Monster didn't know anything about the man's family. He'd supposed he had one, but had never imagined actual people.

 

"Oh-oh-oh! I almost forget." Cazire raised a finger. He set his glass down and slid open a little drawer then reached inside and pulled out a sack.

 

"What's that?" Uncle Bill said. "You got weed in there?

 

"No-no. No weeds." Monster wasn't entirely sure Cazire knew what he'd meant, but he seemed a little insulted. He wished his uncle would shut up. "Is tradition in my village. Like your tradition—we wear masks."

 

Cazire pulled out these really frilly, feathery things meant to go over the eyes. He slid one over his head and onto his face. Uncle Bill took one and stared at it. Monster reached in and the sack was empty.

 

"Oops, I only expected you," Cazire said. "I did not bring other masks."

 

"But what's this for?"

 

"It is our tradition. This year it falls on same day as your Halloween, so I figure we celebrate. Unity!"

 

Monster felt his head buzzing a little.

 

What the hell? he thought to himself and put the sack on his head. He could improvise.

 

Cazire's eyes went wide then he laughed.

 

"You look like a Frankenstein." Monster didn't get the reference at all, but he started laughing too. After a minute he had calmed enough to see Uncle Bill staring at them, stone-faced.

 

"I ain't wearin' this," he said. "It's gay."

 

"Oh, no it's not!" Monster felt a prick of nerves in his belly. This was a business contact Bill was insulting. Uncle or not, that wasn't cool. "Hey, I can see through this!"

 

He didn't know what had happened to his volume control, but he was suddenly fascinated with the texture of the sack on his head. He kept pulling at the top of it and it kept flopping over on the side of his head.

 

"Frankenstein," Cazire said again and they erupted in laughter once more.

 

"I don't know what's so friggin' funny. No offense to you or your culture, Cazeer, but I ain't wearin' this."

 

"My friend… my friend… you must. Everybody is."

Dry - 4

Monster raised an eyebrow. Bill may have been his uncle technically, but the man was younger than him by a good seven years. Grandpa had a lot of kids. Monster only called him uncle as a sort of running joke. He wasn't even responsible enough to take care of himself.

 

"What were you doing in it?"

 

"Aw hell, I got drunk last night. I just woke up here."

 

"Hm." Monster didn't want to tell him anything, but there wasn't any way around it. He couldn't leave him here. He'd have to cut his uncle in.

 

"Throwing a party tonight." Uncle Bill raised his eyebrows this time. "Listen, I'll cut you in on the liquor sales. Ten percent?"

 

"Ten? How about twenty?"

 

"How about you pony up twenty percent of what I'm paying out?"

 

Uncle Bill looked around and then patted his pockets. He gave Monster a sheepish grin.

 

Cazire, a squat Middle-Eastern man, came out of the building.

 

"My friend, my friend," Cazire began with his typical smile. "You must to come inside."

 

"Hey, who's that guy?" Uncle Bill asked as he followed them inside.

 

"That's my contact." Moore was a dry county and every few months or so Monster made a run a few counties over to load up on booze and throw a party. He had Cazire and a few other contacts in other counties in Tennessee.

 

"Tonight is special night," Cazire said. "We must all to celebrate. Boys load up truck—we celebrate." Monster heard the loading door to the building slide up. In a few moments they'd be set. Monster dug into his pocket and pulled out a wad of cash folded in half and held in place with a rubber band and Cazire tucked it into his vest pocket. High temperatures over here must have been like a cool spring day to the man. He had on a sweater beneath his vest and wasn't even sweating.

 

Cazire gestured to a small table against the wall. There were two gin glasses next to a jug of something. He pulled out a third gin glass that didn't match and wiped it off on his vest before setting it by the others, then picked up the jug and carefully sloshed each glass three-quarters of the way full.

 

"We celebrate." Cazire beamed.

 

"Celebrate what?" Monster asked.

 

"Business!"

 

Monster was confused. They'd never done this before.

 

"Hey man, you're all right!" Uncle Bill slapped him on the back and squeezed between the two men. He yanked up a glass, sniffed it, and pounded it back.

 

"Whoa." Uncle Bill's voice sounded like a moose being strangled. His face stayed pinched for a good ten seconds. He slammed the glass back on the table. "Hit me."

 

Cazire refilled Bill's glass. Monster didn't really drink that much, but he didn't want to insult his host. He picked up a glass with Cazire.

Dry - 3

He undid the latch, listening for movement. Nothing. The door slid up easily and as he peered inside the man was on one knee at the back of the cab with his hands up.

 

"Dangit," Monster said. It was Uncle Bill with a giant red knot on his head.

 

#

 

Monster listened as best he could from up in the pine bows. Not all of the townsfolk had torches; some seemed to be looking for him in the dark. At least the dogs hadn't tracked him so far, he thought. But that fact didn't seem to deter anyone.

 

He scratched his face through the burlap sack. The one good eyehole made it difficult to see much of anything. When they were gone he'd have to go off his gut to determine if they'd all really left.

 

There was a pinecone just over his shoulder. Maybe he could give them reason to leave sooner than later. Monster reached up, gently grasping the pinecone and twisting it carefully to and fro until it plucked free.

 

It wasn't that weighty, but it would have to do. There was a break between the bows above him, pointing deeper into the wood. He took care to switch hands holding the tree, holding the pinecone in his non-dominant hand. It was an easy throw, but it would be just as easy to miss the opening and hit the bows; giving his position away to anyone nearby.

 

Monster leaned back, holding onto the tree and gave his best overhand throw.

 

"Over here!" one of the mob shouted a moment later.

 

"What did you see?"

 

"He must be around this area. I heard something fall."

 

"Yeah. Me too."

 

The mob was concentrating in an area about twenty feet from the base of Monster's tree. Not far enough, but maybe they might head in that direction if they thought he wasn't here.

 

"We need to get a view of the landscape," one of the people said. "That tree there—I'll climb it and take a look around."

 

Monster's blood ran cold. He could see several trees through the bows and if they climbed high enough they might see him. Sweat prickled his arms and back. His head felt like it was trapped in a boiler. If only he had something to cool off. Just as he felt he was going to have to climb out of the tree one of the mob walked under the tree and looked right up at him.

#

Monster handed Uncle Bill the big cup of soda pop.

 

"Sorry—they didn't have any straws."

 

Uncle Bill tore the top off, took a deep pull, dug out a fist full of ice cubes and put them to his forehead. Monster took a swig of his own soda and leaned against the wall of the building.

 

"So what are you doing with this thing?" Uncle Bill wrapped his fist on the side of the truck.