Kissing Skulls *Revised*

Chapter 5

 

Chapter 5

            Call it what you will; guilt?  Compassion?  Sheer delirium caused by the pain from my broken hand?

            Whatever it was, for the rest of the day, I played nice.  As hard as it was to believe myself, I was on my best behavior.

            Instead of going home to crash into bed like I ached to do, I tromped back down to the basement to help Dave.  Then I dawdled around the warehouse, and assisted Misty in organizing her medicine cabinets.  I even followed what few orders Dustyn threw my way without question. 

            All in all, I was the perfect little minion.  

             Why, Dustyn and I had only gotten into one testy verbal exchange by the time the others showed up—but this time, it wasn’t my fault. 

            I had finished helping everyone else, and decided to do the one thing that might help myself.  I couldn’t fight, not with my broken hand, and Misty was more of a healer than anything. 

            So if some vampires did happen to come our way, we’d be toast—right?

            But, that’s when I got an ingenious idea to help save our asses should any suckers attack.  I trusted the others, but I had learned the hard way that it was always better to be safe than sorry. 

            So, I came up with the perfect backup plan. 

            “What the hell are you doing?”  Dave asked on his way past. 

            His arms were full of dusty old boxes—scavenged from the basement, I guessed.  Inside were probably a bunch of archaic, old weapons that Dustyn intended to use tonight.

            I shrugged—which was a feat considering the fact that I was currently standing on the seat of a rickety chair with a chain of knotted onions clutched in my good hand. 

            “Just an idea I had.”

            Vampires in movies always had an aversion to onions.  I was fairly confident that stringing up chains of the things around the windows and doors of the hideout would be the perfect defense.   Considering the fact that I couldn’t spell for shit and with my injured hand I could barely hold a pencil, let alone a wooden stake. 

            Vampire repellent was the next best thing. 

            The idea had seemed like a good one in theory, but I should have already guessed that it probably wasn’t from the look Dave was giving me from above his armful of boxes—disbelief mixed with some pity. 

He eyed my smelly handiwork with a sniff and said, “Dustyn isn’t going to like it.”

            “Right,” I scoffed, and bent down to fish another onion from the bag of them I’d gotten from a nearby convince store.

 The prospect of pissing off his Highness just made the task all the more thrilling.   I grinned as I began to knot the end of the rope around the bulb’s slippery surface.  “As if everything I do has to be cleared by King Dustyn.”

            I rolled my eyes dramatically and made a ‘so what’ motion with my cast hand.  My idea was pure genius. 

Even Dustyn couldn’t possibly find anything to bitch about.