“Look where you’re going!” Nemo yelled.
“It’s fine,” Orson said.
It wasn’t, actually. We ran over an inmate. The car rocked up and down as we cleared the body. I slid my arm around Levi, trying to keep his skull from fracturing mine as he flopped around. Our combined weight in the car didn’t sit well with the man under the tires … He exploded from both ends.
“See? Fine,” Orson said.
Nemo barked out in shock as the car moved erratically and Levi wasn’t much better. His arms flailed around, one even managing to smack me in the mouth. What was I going to do with these two?
Nemo suddenly decided that I was the best thing to hang on to. He lunged at me, and I pictured my head popping off like the carseat’s. That image, along with a decade of fights, made me react without thought. I punched him in the jaw as he wrapped his arms around me, seeking comfort.
“Ow,” he growled through his teeth.
“Whoops. Knee jerk reaction.” I patted his shoulder with two fingers and smiled, pleased with myself. I really wasn’t so bad with this comfort stuff, was I?
“Now, now, boys,” Orson said, looking at us from the rearview mirror. “Play nice back there.”
“Is this roleplay?Are we there yet?” I leaned forward. Levi fell over behind me, trapping me in a meat sandwich between him and Nemo. When Nemo buried his head in my stomach,I ground my teeth from the overstimulation. Okay, that was enough comforting. I twisted my fingers in his brown hair and attempted to pull him off, but he was glued on.
Well, if I couldn’t move one, I’d try the other. I attempted to turn around some, reaching for Levi. My fingers brushed his gaping gills. An idea came to me. The car filled with grunts and curses as I twisted my arm behind me. Two fingers slid inside the gills, accompanied by a wet sloppy noise.
“Are you fucking that corpse?” Bree asked.
“Maybe,” I grunted, sliding in knuckle deep. Curling my fingers into a hook, I tugged but immediately lost my grip. “Fuck.” More grunts filled the car as I slid my fingers back in. The wet sounds were downright vulgar this time as I explored, trying to find the best place to curl my fingers. After two more attempts I accepted it wasn’t going to work.
“I just fingered his gills for no reason at this point. Quickly, I wiped my gloves off on Nemo’s shirt, creating smears of black goo on his back.
“Baz, that body smells.” Bree had a valid complaint.
“Yeah,” I sighed. Although I’d been occasionally desperate enough to collect any ole corpse, normally I wouldn’t bother with ones that weren’t my own. My venom had preservation qualities, keeping the bodies fresh forever. Plus, I liked to think we had a special connection. At least, I felt that way. Not sure about the corpses.
If this had been a normal day, I’d have left Levi under that tree. Unfortunately, for the sake of sudden nostalgia I’d decided to take a piece of Verfallen with me. Regret was settling in fast.
“Hey.” I looked down at Nemo. “Move your face a little bit lower into my lap. Make this trip more enjoyable.” I felt teeth sink into my belly and yelped. My boot kicked the back of Orson’s chair, and the car jerked to the side, runninginto another Verfallen patient. For whatever reason, the man practically exploded with blood.
Orson flicked on the windshield wipers. Globs of viscera smeared over the window before a meager amount of water spread across the glass. The world looked red. Bree’s stomach grumbled, and she retrieved a blood bag from between her feet. She also produced a straw, which she jabbed into the bag before slurping the O negative like chocolate milk.
“No kicking the back of my chair,” Orson snapped. I kneed it to be an ass. We swerved, and Bree dropped the bag, blood splattered everywhere inside. Nemo squeezed me tighter.
“I can’t breathe,” I wheezed.
“Good!” Bree and Orson yelled in unison.
“Has it been six hours?” Nemo mumbled into my stomach.
“It’s beenone minute.” Orson looked at us with genuine concern. One minute out, and the entire vehicle, inside and out, was covered in blood. I was struggling to breathe, Nemo was having his first panic attack, and Bree was counting the remaining blood bags with a look of dawning horror.
“Do not forget me,” I imagined Levi’s muffled voice coming from behind me.
“How could I?” I asked in annoyance. “The smell alone.”
Orson sighed deeply.
“What’s wrong?” Bree asked, stabbing the straw into a fresh bag.
“Do any of you know what lying low means?” He asked.
“I’m aware of it as a concept,” Bree said. Orson swerved to the side of the road.
