Chapter 3 Serial Killer Vans

Bri

I dropped the sword and backed away like it would come to life and grab me. Who knew at this level of strange and bizarre, it just might. 

I looked over at Armond, “So, do you still think I shouldn't get drunk, cause I've gotta tell you, I completely disagree.”

He just shook his head, “No, we need to get you someplace safe, and figure out our next step.”

I see both him and Allen doing that super secret back and forth eyeing each other, rather than speaking, so no one would know what they were saying shit. So, I just roll my eyes and sit at the bar.

“So, when y'all are done doing that super secret spy ring, no you can't play in my clubhouse, bullshit, how about you share with the class.” I propped my chin on my hand and just stared at them both.

“The best thing would be to take her to the hotel. No one would look for her there, and it's protected territory.” Armond was looking at Allen the entire time he spoke.

“I have no problem with that, just as long as you are ready for what will happen when we do.” They both looked at me and I just stared back.

“We already knew this was an eventuality, this is just speeding it up a bit.” They both nodded to each other and seemed to come to some kind of agreement. 

Allen turned to me, “Go up to the apartment and pack a bag. Make sure you have enough for at least 3 days.”

I saluted him and then ran upstairs to my apartment. It was just a small one-bedroom that Allen rented to me when I started working here. 

It didn't take me all that long to pack, then I threw my duffel over my shoulder and went back down and into the bar.

“Okay, the arrangements are all made, so we'll escort her there.” Armond nodded at Allen, and I saw Allen putting his phone away.

Armond looked me up and down, “Do you have everything you need?”

“I'm not relocating permanently, Allen said 3 days, how much shit do you think I need?” I put my hand on my hip and gave him a put-out look.

He just grinned and flashed fangs at me. Then shook his head.

I looked around the kitchen until I found a couple of rags. Then I walked up to the sword, wrapped the rags around the handle, and picked it up trying not to touch it.

Bobby looked at me with a puzzled expression, “What are you doing?”

“You saw what this damn thing did, probably give me magical herpes or some shit.” Allen and Armond were trying not to laugh, and I just rolled my eyes.

Just as we all went outside, and Allen locked the doors behind us I saw something that irritated the fuck out of me.

“Oh great, the serial killer van is back.”

They all looked over and I heard two mutter, “Fuck”, then, they were pulling me running for the car.

Okay, I'm guessing serial killer vans are a bad thing, and not just because of the serial killer thing. Maybe I'm drunker than I thought.

We get to Allen's extended cab pickup and he and Armond jump in the front, Bobby boy and I in the back. Then we're peeling out of the parking lot. I look over my shoulder and see the van following. 

“The serial killer van is following, just fyi.”

“Fuck, do you think we'll reach the zone before we have to deal with them?” I saw Allen asking Armond.

“I guess we'll find out.” I personally didn't take much comfort in that answer.

“Ah for us uninformed newbies in the back, what the fuck is the zone?” I looked at both of them as I asked.

“The zone is neutral territory for all species. If anyone violates the zone, every faction or species will go after them. So, even hunters honor the zone.” I nodded like I had a clue.

“Well, I guess that's good to know, but I hope those ass holes know it.”

“I suppose we'll find out.” Armond was looking behind us as he said it.

“So, as we're in vehicles driving down the road, what exactly do they think they're going to do? If they use swords that would not be very effective in this situation. If they are going to do the whole trying to run us off the road thing, I think this pickup would make that more difficult than they think. So, what's the deal?” I watched the men in the front silently debate with each other.

Okay, obviously there's still a shit ton I don't know and they're not telling. Great, that's so helpful. 

Just then Bobby nervously pats my leg. I look at him and he's frantically pointing behind us, so I look back.

Oh, okay well fuck, “Ah, okay, so they have guns. Well, that explains that shit.”

Just then the back window breaks and Bobby dives for the floor. Both guys in the front are swearing, and Allen starts swerving across the road.

I huff a big sigh and grab my duffel bag. I open it and look through it to find my purse. Once I locate that, I grab the 9mm I keep in it for stupid ass holes. This definitely qualifies. Too bad I was nice and didn't shoot these dip shits earlier. 

Once I have my gun in hand, I put my duffel down, unbuckle my seatbelt, and turn around. Now that the back window is gone, I have a clear shot.

“Drive straight Allen, you're messing with my aim.” I aim the gun at the front grill of the van.

“What the fuck are you doing?” I hear Armond yell from the front

“Handling the fucking problem.” I try to steady myself, aim, and pull the trigger.