The Book of Death (Bourbon Kid 4)

thieving
bastard?’ she screamed.
    Sanchez pushed back hard against
the table and succeeded in forcing it back against the wall. It achieved
nothing. The secret doorway remained open. He watched in terror as Ulrika
launched herself towards him at great speed. Her feet left the ground and she
flew through the air, her arms outstretched. Sanchez had seen some unpleasant
stuff in his time, but the sight of a crazy librarian bitch flying at him, was
right up there with the worst of them. He grabbed a firm hold of his mop and
lifted his ass up on to the table behind him. Then climbing to his feet, he
stood firm on the table and held the mop out to fend off the onrushing vampire.
    Ulrika landed back on her feet
at the entrance to the secret room and sneered at him. ‘That mop won’t save
you!’ she hissed.
    ‘It’s got shit on the end of
it!’ Sanchez warned. ‘And I’ll shove it in your face! I’m warning you. Stay
back!’
    It didn’t deter Ulrika who once
again leapt from the floor and flew up towards Sanchez’s head. Bracing himself
for the impact of her attack, he thrust the mop at her from his position up
high on the table. Being pretty useful with a mop, he successfully caught her
full in the face with the shittiest part of the mop head. It knocked her off balance,
forcing her back. She landed upright on her feet and Sanchez retracted the mop,
ready to go back in with another lunge if needed.
    Ulrika’s face was covered in
blood, shit, soap and oddly enough a small piece of sweetcorn. She wiped most
of it away with one swipe of her long bony right hand.
    Sanchez warned her again. ‘This
mop has a lifetime supply of filth. Come one step closer and it goes on your
shoes, bitch.’
    Ulrika lowered her head and bent
her knees to make herself a smaller target so she could avoid the prods of his
mop as she looked for the best way to attack him. It didn’t take her long to
work it out. She lunged down at the table beneath him and grabbed a hold of one
of the legs on the near side. She yanked it hard. As she pulled at it, Sanchez
swung the mop head at her once more, catching her on the side of the head. But
Ulrika was strong. The strength of her pull on the table moved it swiftly and
violently towards her causing Sanchez to lose his footing. He tumbled forward
off the table. In order to avoid smashing his face on the floor he had to
manoeuvre the mop head so that his face landed on it to cushion the blow. He
heard a horrible squishing noise as the remains of what was left on the mop
splashed over his face. There was no time to lie around whining about it
though. Keeping a tight grip on its handle he clambered to his feet and saw
Ulrika on his right, lunging towards him. He prodded the mop at her feet, just
as he’d threatened to. If he was going down he was taking that bitch’s shoes
with him. The mop connected with her comfy red lesbian shoes and unbalanced her
just enough to buy him the time to turn and run. He knew that Ulrika would most
likely catch up with him before he reached the elevator, but he had to make a
break for it.
    He ran down through the rows of
lockers as fast as he could. Unfortunately that wasn’t particularly fast, and
the mop made things particularly awkward. He only made it past three lockers
out of a row of thirty, before he was confronted by Ulrika again. She had
somersaulted over his head and landed in front of him, blocking his only escape
route out of the locker room. Her face looked murderous, and a little shitty.
Her hair was unkempt and her eyes full of spite. This was one riled-up bitch.
Sanchez had no option but to swing his mop again. This time Ulrika was too
quick for him. She grabbed a hold of the mop handle and yanked it out of his
hands. Then she tossed it to the floor and revealed her vampire fangs once
more. She spat out a hiss and then launched herself at him again. Sanchez
cowered down and raised an arm to fend her off, but it was to no avail. Ulrika
pounced on his back and pushed him down to the floor, pinning him there with
her knee pressed into the small of his back. It knocked the wind out of him and
left him powerless to fight back.
    He felt her breath on the side
of his face as she leaned down to speak in his ear. ‘I’ve never liked you,
Sanchez. Now tell me what you’ve done with my Book of Death!’
      ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’
he protested.
    ‘You won’t be able to lie to me
when I rip out your jugular,’ she