Living Dead in Dallas

living bulletin board to that bitch, that maenad, whatever the hell she was. As I crawled, over twigs and rough ground, pine needles and dust, I grew angrier and angrier. I was shaking all over from the pain and the rage, dragging myself along, until I didn’t feel I was worth killing, I was such a mess. I’d begun the crawl back to the car, trying to head back to the likeliest spot for Bill to find me, but when I was almost there I had second thoughts about staying out in the open.
    I’d been assuming the road meant help—but of course, it didn’t. I’d found out a few minutes before that not everyone met by chance was in a helping kind of mood. What if I met up with something else, somethinghungry? The smell of my blood might be attracting a predator at this very moment; a shark is said to be able to detect the tiniest particles of blood in the water, and a vampire is surely the shark’s land equivalent.
    So I crawled inside the tree line, instead of staying out beside the road where I’d be visible. This didn’t seem like a very dignified or meaningful place to die. This was no Alamo, or Thermopylae. This was just a spot in the vegetation by a road in northern Louisiana. I was probably lying in poison ivy. I would probably not live long enough to break out, though.
    I expected every second that the pain would begin to abate, but it only increased. I couldn’t prevent the tears from coursing down my cheeks. I managed not to sob out loud, so I wouldn’t attract any more attention, but it was impossible to keep completely still.
    I was concentrating so desperately on maintaining my silence that I almost missed Bill. He was pacing along the road looking into the woods, and I could tell by the way he was walking that he was alert to danger. Bill knew something was wrong.
    “Bill,” I whispered, but with his vampire hearing, it was like a shout.
    He was instantly still, his eyes scanning the shadows. “I’m here,” I said, and swallowed back a sob. “Watch out.” I might be a living booby trap.
    In the moonlight, I could see that his face was clean of emotion, but I knew he was weighing the odds, just as I was. One of us had to move, and I realized if I came out into the moon glow, at least Bill could see more clearly if anything attacked.
    I stuck my hands out, gripped the grass, and pulled. I couldn’t even get up to my knees, so this progress was my best speed. I pushed a little with my feet, though even that use of my back muscles was excruciating. I didn’t want to look at Bill while I moved toward him,because I didn’t want to soften at the sight of his rage. It was an almost palpable thing.
    “What did this to you, Sookie?” he asked softly.
    “Get me in the car. Please, get me out of here,” I said, doing my best to hold myself together. “If I make a lot of noise, she might come back.” I shivered all over at the thought. “Take me to Eric,” I said, trying to keep my voice even. “She said this was a message for Eric Northman.”
    Bill squatted beside me. “I have to lift you,” he told me.
    Oh, no. I started to say, “There must be some other way,” but I knew there wasn’t. Bill knew better than to hesitate. Before I could anticipate the pain to its full extent, he scooted an arm under me and applied his other hand to my crotch, and in an instant he had me dangling across his shoulder.
    I screamed out loud. I tried not to sob after that, so Bill could listen for an attack, but I didn’t manage that very well. Bill began to run along the road, back to the car. It was running already, its engine idling smoothly. Bill flung open the back door and tried to feed me gently but quickly onto the backseat of the Cadillac. It was impossible not to cause me more pain by doing this, but he made the attempt.
    “It was her,” I said, when I could say anything coherent. “It was her who made the car stop and made me get out.” I was keeping an open mind about whether she’d caused the fight to begin with.
    “We’ll talk about it in a little while,” he said. He sped toward Shreveport, at the highest speed he could, while I clawed at the upholstery in an attempt to keep control over myself.
    All I remember about that ride was that it was at least two years long.
    Bill got me to the back door of Fangtasia somehow, and kicked it to get attention.
    “What?” Pam sounded hostile. She was a pretty blond vampire I’d met a couple of times before, a sensible sort of individual with