Bite Me

like a crazy person—on the side where she used to be, so she doesn’t cut Tommy—and finally she has, like, enough sawed away that she can pull a piece away and look in.
    And she’s all, “Tommy, we’re going to get you out of there. I have to be careful, but I’ll get you out of there soon.”
    And Jared is like, “Do you need a flashlight?”
    And Jody is like, “No, I can see.”
    And Jared is all, “Is he dead?”
    And right then Jody snaps a hacksaw blade and goes, “Well of course he’s dead, he’s a vampyre.”
    And I’m all, “Duh? Tard.” As I hand Jody another blade.
    I have to say, that for someone with super powers and immortality, the Countess kind of sucks ass with tools. I guess the dark gift doesn’t include home improvement skills.
    ’Kayso, after about an hour the Countess pulls a big piece off the statue, revealing Tommy’s face and torso and whatnot, and he’s just stuck there, not moving, not opening his eyes, and even whiter than the Countess, kind of a light bruise-blue color.
    And Jared is all, “He dead?”
    And Jody is like kind of between a scream and a sob, and she’s like, “Get me another blood bag, Jared. And Abby, where the fuck are my clothes?” And a little blood tear runs down her cheek.
    And I’m like, “Uh-oh.” Because now I realize why she’s wearing my clothes. When Foo and I moved in we put all of Tommy and Jody’s clothes in vacuum bags under the bed. So I’m like, “What do you want to wear, Countess? I’ll get it. I mean, you can wear my stuff any time you want, because I am your faithful minion, but you have been endowed by your creator with significantly more boobage and junk in the trunk than me, no offense, and my stuff doesn’t exactly fit you. No offense.”
    And Jared is all, “She had your Emily hoody on over that but it got blood all over it.” Not helping at all. “Hey, who wants a latte?”
    And the Countess snarled at Jared, full frontal fangs and all. And Jared jumped back and turned his ankle. And I’m like, “Oh shit!”
    And she barks, “Blood!”
    And Jared and I are all, “Coming right up. Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit.”
    And I bring her the bag of blood and she tears it open with her teeth and just pours it over his lips and in his mouth and nothing happens. And Jody is crying and getting louder and Jared and I are getting more and more freaked out and even all the rats in their little boxes are freaking out and running around in circles and whatnot. And finally Tommy’s eyes pop open, and they’re like crystal blue, like ice, not like eyes, and he screams, and I swear to fucking zombie Jebus, the whole wall of windows in the loft just shattered in the frames.
    So Jared and I are all bent over in the corner, covering our ears, and Tommy comes flying out of the statue. You can hear his leg bones cracking like pretzels as he pulls them out, but he scurries on his hands, knocking rats and furniture every which way, coming right at me, fangs first.
    And I go to reach for the button on my sleeve, but he’s on me, biting my neck. He’s so strong it’s like trying to fight a statue, and I can hear Jody screaming, and the skin on my neck tearing in shreds. And my vision is like tunneling down to dark, and I’m thinking, I’m fucking dying? What the fuck’s up with that?
    Then there’s this loud clang, like a bell, and I feel Tommy pulled off me. And light sort of comes back on. I can see the Countess standing there, holding Foo’s stainless-steel floor lamp like it’s a lance, and she’s obviously just smacked Tommy with it hard enough to knock him off of me. But instead of going at her, he comes scurrying right back at me, smearing blood all over the floor and everything.
    And the Countess catches him by the neck from behind and swings him around and out through the broken windows, and the metal frames and everything go with him.
    So there’s the scream again, and I’m holding my neck, and I sort of crawl to the big hole that used to be the front wall of the loft, and Tommy is in the middle of the street below, naked, in a big splash of metal and glass, and he’s like crawling up the side of a car to his feet.
    And Jody’s beside me. And she’s all, “Tommy! Tommy!”
    But he’s limping off down the alley across the street, walking like his legs are still broken, but maybe healing or something as he goes, but hurting like holy-fuck.
    So Jody takes my head and turns it to the side and pulls my hand away