The Book of Death (Bourbon Kid 4)

get the
chance to administer some good old retribution on behalf of all of the victims
of a vicious killer. A genuine chance to be a hero and avenge the deaths of
many innocent people had landed in his lap. What could possibly go wrong?
    He looked down at the flame on
his Zippo, then looked into the eyes of the vampire again. ‘You need to lighten
up!’ he said smirking (while contemplating what a shame it was that no one was
around to appreciate his fine pay off lines). ‘Come on, give me a ho, ho, ho!’
The vampire looked truly terrified but offered no fight.
    Sanchez closed the lighter again
momentarily and picked up the hip flask. He poured a little more of the green flammable
liquid onto the Santa’s clothes, then he stepped away from his prostrate
victim. He screwed the lid back on the hip flask and slipped it into his inside
pocket figuring it would be an ample replacement for the one he’d given away
earlier. Then he flicked open his lighter again. Toying with the fat bastard by
holding the flame of the Zippo over him gave Sanchez an enormous sense of
power. All he had to do was drop the lighter down onto the vampire’s beard and
within seconds the paralysed psycho would be a smouldering pile of ash. First
of all though, some more gloating was required.
    ‘Not nice to be flat on your
back with someone staring over you, threatening to kill you, is it?’ he asked,
kicking the vampire in the ribs for good measure.
    This was turning out to be great
fun. Sanchez kicked him again, harder this time. As he held the Zippo high over
the Santa, readying himself to drop it, he suddenly heard a voice from behind
him shout out. It was the voice of a young girl, probably no more than ten years
old.
    ‘Hey everyone! That guy is
beating up Santa Claus!’
    Sanchez looked over his shoulder
and saw on the other side of the road a troop of Sunflower Girls, the Santa
Mondega equivalent of the Savannah Girl Scouts but with some serious behaviour
problems. They all wore green sweaters and blue skirts with fluffy blue pom pom
hats to protect against the cold weather. Not normally a fearsome sight, but
there were thirty of them. There was also the group leader, a rather large lady
in her forties with a face like a giraffe’s and a bowl haircut. Fortunately she
was at the back of the group. The one Sanchez had to worry about was the little
girl who had shouted out to the others. She was at the front of the group,
pointing at him. And far from looking distressed, this little girl looked
extremely angry. She reached down and pulled something from her sock. She held
it up. It was a flick knife. She flipped it open and pointed the blade at
Sanchez. Then she looked around at her troop.
    ‘GET HIM!’ she shouted.
    Within a second, thirty
screaming ten-year old Sunflower Girls had started charging towards him. The
one with the knife led the way, snarling like a pit bull terrier. The leader
followed on behind the pack shaking her fist angrily at Sanchez. She looked absolutely
appalled at what she had seen him doing to the Santa Claus.
    ‘It’s not what it looks like!’
Sanchez yelled at the onrushing mob.
    It was no use. None of the girls
would have been able to hear him over the noise of their own screaming. He took
one last look at the vampire on the ground and dropped the Zippo onto him.
    WHOOSH!
    As soon as the naked flame made
contact with the flammable green liquid on the Santa’s red outfit his whole
body exploded into flames. The sight of it stopped the onrushing girls dead in
their tracks. There were gasps all round as their jaws dropped at the sight of
Santa Claus going up in flames. The image would no doubt be permanently etched
into their memories, scarring them for life.
    Unfortunately once the initial
shock passed, it only angered them further. Their screaming took on an entirely
new level of aggression.
    Sanchez reached down to the
sidewalk and grabbed The Book of Death. By the time he’d picked it up, the
Santa was a flaming ball of flesh three feet high. The flames were stretching
up to the side of the squad car, blocking off any chance Sanchez had of getting
into it, so with no time to lose, he turned and raced off down the icy street,
praying he wouldn’t slip.
    Thirty hysterical Sunflower
Girls chased after him, baying for blood.

 
    Thirty

 
    JD walked along the dusty track
towards the horizon. The sun shone blisteringly in the blue sky above, yet he
felt no heat from it. The temperature, much like