Tommy's Risky Ride

“I think she’s a vampire,” Jimmy rolled three red dice. Tony rolled two white dice. Clenching his pudgy fist in victory, Jimmy pushed his plastic cannons into Brazil. “Ha, South America is mine!”

“She’s too old to be a vampire,” Tony leaned across the table and reluctantly pulled his two armies from the board. “Everybody knows vampires don’t get old.”

“Oh, and you’re the expert, huh?” Jimmy drew a card and passed the three red dice to his left. He reached into a bowl of chips and grabbed a handful.

Catching the word ‘vampire’ as he finished washing his hands in the basement bathroom, Tommy quickly patted his hands on the hand towel. He and his Mom had moved to Chesterton only three months ago. The second move in as many years since his Dad left on his tenth birthday. Moving made it hard to make friends. Being invited to Friday game night with the guys from school was the best thing to happen since moving in. He didn’t want to miss any local gossip and hurried back to the table.

“Who’s a vampire?” Tommy rubbed water from his hands on his jeans as he slipped into his chair.

“Old lady Johnson,” Brad picked up the dice and started shaking them as he pondered his move. He pushed thick, dark rimmed glasses up on his nose. “Kamchatka to Yakutsk,” he announced and tossed the dice. Tony passed the two white dice to Tommy and Tommy rolled the dice.

“Sorry Tommy,” Brad picked up the last of Tommy’s armies from the board and set them down in front of him. Tommy gave Brad the two cards he had face down in front of him.

“That’s okay,” Tommy shrugged. “I’ve never been very good at Risk.”

“Isn’t she your neighbor?” Tony passed Tommy the bowl of chips before Jimmy ate them all.

“The house on the corner with the leaning porch?” Tommy took the bowl, pulled out a couple chips and passed it to Brad.

“That’s the one,” replied Tony.

“I haven’t met her yet,” Tommy bit into one of the chips. “Why do you think she’s a vampire?”

“Cause she thucked the blood from Tony’s dog,” Jimmy mumbled through a mouth full of chips.

Tony’s shoulders slumped. “We found Chester one night in her side yard with bite marks on his neck. He’d lost a lot of blood and . . . and he—.”

“When my Dad questioned her she was wiping blood from her hands,” Jimmy grabbed the bowl of chips. “He said she was pale as a ghost and kept turning away from the light of his flashlight.”

“You think she did it?” Tommy finished the rest of his chips.

“The vet said it was probably a wild animal,” Tony explained.

“We all know it was her.” Jimmy grabbed another handful of chips. “She said she tried to help the dog, but it’s not the first animal my Dad has found dead with bites like that.”

“She never goes out during the day,” added Brad. “And her son walks like a Zombie and never talks to anybody.”

“He’s part of her undead army,” Jimmy wiped grease from the chips on his shirt.

Tommy jumped when his phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out and silenced the alarm.

“Sorry guys, but I’ve got to go,” Tommy stood and shoved his phone back into his front pocket. “My Mom’s working extra hours at the hospital tonight and I promised I’d be home before dark.”

“No problem,” Tony stood up. “I’ll walk you out.”

“Hey, next week is World of Warcraft Monopoly,” Brad dumped his bonus armies on Yakutsk. “You in?”

“You bet!” Tommy smiled. “Thanks guys.”

“Watch out for vampires!” Jimmy warned as Tommy and Tony trotted up the stairs.

“Don’t let Jimmy scare you,” Tony held the back door open for Tommy. “His Dad’s the sheriff and he hears a lot of weird stuff.”

“That’s okay,” Tommy hopped on his bike. “Sorry about your dog.”

“Thanks,” Tony smiled. “See ya Monday.”

“See ya,” Tommy pushed off the back steps and started down the driveway.

By the time he was halfway home it was already getting dark. Jimmy’s warning made him peddle hard in and out of the yellow glow of the streetlights on the sidewalk. He tried not to focus on the deep shadows between houses.

As he neared old lady Johnson’s house, the streetlight on the corner flickered and went out. The last fifty feet of sidewalk until his house around the corner was now in darkness. He tensed and kept his eyes forward.

Halfway through the darkness he heard a deep growl and rapidly approaching footsteps. He raised up and started pumping the pedals when something sharp grabbed his left ankle. He screamed in pain as the bike wobbled. Losing control, he fell on his side and skidded across the sidewalk. He saw stars as his head came down hard onto the sidewalk leading up to the the old woman's house.

The growling suddenly stopped with a yelp and pained whimper. He struggled to get out from under his bike when a bony hand pressed on his chest.

“Don’t’ move son,” a hoarse voice said.

Through blurred vision, he saw a pale white face looking down at him. He tried to scream but everything went dark.

His body felt like it weighed a ton. He heard rustling and the scuffle of boots.

“We ga…ga…gotta bu…bu…bury him,” came a deep voice from near the rustling.

“They’ll need to check his brain,” the hoarse voice said. “Leave him on the porch.”

Boots scuffling again and the squeak of a door closing. Tommy’s head ached and he brought his hand up to his forehead. He felt something wrapped around his head. He quickly felt his neck for bite marks.

“That’s your son?” he heard his mother’s voice.

“Mom?” Tommy called out.

“I’m here Tommy,” his mom knelt by his side. “Just relax.”

His mom’s face came into focus in the dim light. He tried to sit up and a sharp pain in his left foot made him wince.

“You’ll do better to rest that leg,” the hoarse voice got closer. Over his mom’s shoulder, he saw the pale white face. It had light blond hair and deep blue eyes that seemed to bore into his.

“Don’t let her bite me Mom!” Tommy cried and grabbed his mother’s arm.

“Bite you?” his mother’s forehead scrunched up. “Who’s going to bite you?”

“She’s right behind you!” Tommy squeaked, his eyes large with fear. “She killed Tony’s dog and sucked its blood!”

“What?” his mother took his hand. He felt he couldn’t breathe. “Take a deep breath honey.”

“Oh that old story?” the hoarse voice again. This time followed by a short cackle.

“This is Mrs. Johnson, Tommy,” his mother explained. The door squeaked open and a tall blond man scuffled in. Red spots were splattered across the front of his grey hoodie. “And her son Jacob.”

“Shu…shu…sheriff is here,” Jacob stood aside to let a short, pudgy, balding man holding a white hat step inside.

“Is that the animal in the garbage bag?” asked the Sheriff, nodding his head towards the door. Tommy noticed food stains on the front of his leather jacket.

“Yes, sir,” Mrs. Johnson answered. “I think you’ll find it’s a coyote, and probably rabid by the looks of him.”

“That would explain the animal bites I’ve seen lately,” the Sheriff looked over at Tommy. “And what happened here?”

“The coyote attacked him and he fell off his bike,” Mrs. Johnson explained. She nodded towards Jacob. “Jacob here killed it before it could do any more harm to the boy.”

Jacob stood up straight and smiled at his mother. He had blond hair and blue eyes like his mother, but his skin was normal color. He didn’t look like a zombie, Tommy thought.

“And you are?” the Sheriff looked at Tommy’s mother.

“Jane Hopkins,” his mother replied. “I’m Tommy’s mother.”

“And what’s that heavenly smell?” the Sheriff asked sniffing the air.

Tommy jumped as a loud beeping sounded from another room. “That would be my cookies,” Mrs. Johnson glided soundlessly towards the sound of the beeping.

The beeping stopped as Tommy tried to sit up again. His mother helped him to put a pillow behind his back. He could see now that he was on a couch in a small living room. His left ankle was bandaged and propped on a small pillow.

Mrs. Johnson came back into the room and held a plate of cookies in front of the Sheriff who grabbed two of them quickly.

“Thank you, mam,” the Sheriff took a bite of one of the cookies. “Mmm...my son would wuv these.”

Mrs. Johnson brought the plate over to the couch and leaned down close to Tommy.

“Would you like a bite?” she winked at him.