Free Kissing Corpses by Amy Leigh Strickland Page B

him inside. There was no movement on the street.
    “So what are we doing, going downstairs to stake him?”
    “If you want to risk going into a blacked-out basement with an angry vampire, be my guest.” He set his bag down on the coffee table and pulled out a red gas can. He slipped a pair of blue rubber gloves on before extracting three empty glass beer bottles and an old rag.
    “Molotov cocktail?” I stared, wide-eyed at Gilchrist. “Are you insane?”
    “Maybe a little,” he said.
    I crossed my arms across my chest and went to peek through the front blinds. Someone was coming home with a van-load of kids. “We have neighbors,” I said.
    “Approaching the house?”
    “No.”
    “Good. Here, take this and go find a back door with lots of sunlight along the way.” He opened his bag and took out an object that looked like a yellow price scanner.
    “What is this?”
    “Meth gun. Cops use it to detect methamphetamines at traffic stops with UV light. It's not as bright as the UV curing gun, but it's more portable a little easier for an amateur to aim.”
    I turned on the device and held it in front of me as I started down the hall. There was a back door with blacked-out glass panels at the back of the kitchen. “I found a door but it's kind of dark back here.”
    “Break a window!”
    Right. I held the gun out with one hand and picked up the fire extinguisher from next to the stove. I wondered if it was Rawdon's or one that came with the house. It was one of those little residential extinguishers and I was able to lift it with one hand and swing the end of it into a panel. The glass cracked and a shard of it fell to the floor by my feet. The tiny opening cast enough sunlight that I was comfortable setting down the meth gun to use free up my hands. I smashed out the remaining panels with the end of the fire extinguisher.
    I turned back to see Gilchrist standing in the door to the kitchen with two cocktails on the counter and one in his hand.
    “Ready to run like hell?” he asked.
    I unlocked the back door and nodded. The idea of killing someone didn't sit well, but I knew that Rawdon was already dead. More importantly, he was going to kill me.
    “Three, two, one!” He lit the cocktails on the counter and then lit the one in his hand. He opened the basement door, chucked a cocktail down the stairs, and slammed the door shut. There was an immediate “Run!”
    I threw the back door open and ran onto the snow-covered lawn. Gilchrist followed close behind. “What were the bombs on the counter for?” I asked as soon as I was a safe distance from the house.
    “Insurance. Set the kitchen on fire, just in case he gets past the basement. Come on,” he waved for me to follow and set off around the house. “Before the fire's visible from the street.”
    I ran close at Gilchrist's heals. When we got back to his truck, he tossed his bag into the pickup bed and hopped in the cab.
    We were three blocks away before I felt like I could breathe again. “I just committed arson.”
    “No, I did. You were an accomplice to arson.”
    I laughed. “Holy shit.”
    Gilchrist cleared his throat.
    “Right, sorry. Religious. I can use the fuck word but not the Lord's name in vain.”
    Gilchrist laughed. “The fuck word. I like that. Let's pick up lunch-- you're paying-- and head back to the house to work on Plan B.”
    “But we just killed him?”
    “We just lit his lair on fire. If he was in that basement, we'll be lucky. But he knows you're on the run and he knows I'm in town. Chances are, we're not lucky. He'll have gone to ground.”

    We returned to the house with a stack of pizzas and a 2-liter of Coke to share. Gilchrist left after lunch to go sit on Cody's back porch and talk with someone in his cell phone. I didn't try to eavesdrop. I helped Cody with chores to earn my keep. I figured that I owed him a huge favor after making his house base-camp for Operation Vampire Kill.
    “Geneva, you get the couch tonight.