The Southern Book Club's Guide to Slaying Vampires - Grady Hendrix Page 0,145

Kitty carried the Bi-Lo grocery bag. The cooler clanked softly as their tools slid around inside. They wore dark clothes and walked quickly, turning onto Middle Street, preferring to take the risk of someone spotting them walking rather than have an extra car parked outside James Harris’s house for three hours. People in the Old Village had a habit of writing down license plate numbers, after all.

Middle Street was a long, black tunnel leading straight to his house, lined with cars spilling out of driveways. The cold wind tugged at their coats. They put their heads down and forged forward, walking fast beneath the leafless trees and dead palmettos rattling in the wind.

“Have you bought your Christmas presents yet?” Kitty asked.

Mrs. Greene perked up at the mention of Christmas. Maryellen gave Kitty a sideways look.

“I get the big things during the after-Thanksgiving sales,” Kitty said. “But I start planning people’s gifts in August. This year I’ve still got more blanks than I normally do. Honey is easy, she needs a briefcase for job interviews. I mean, it’s not that she needs it but I thought it would be the kind of thing she’d want. And Parish wants a tractor and Horse says we need a new one anyway, so that’s taken care of. Lacy, I’m going to take to Italy as a graduation present next year so she’ll get something small for now and she’s fun to shop for anyhow, and as long as whatever I give Merit is bigger than what I get for Lacy she’s thrilled. But I do not know what to buy for Pony. It’s different to shop for a man, and he’s got this new girl he’s seeing, and I don’t know if I have to get her a present or not. I mean, I want to, but does that make me seem overbearing?”

Maryellen turned to her.

“What on earth are you talking about?” she asked.

“I don’t know!” Kitty said.

“Hush,” Mrs. Greene said, and they passed the last house before James Harris’s and they all fell silent.

The huge white house loomed over them, dark and still. The only light came from the living room window. They stepped off the street into his driveway then sat on the bottom step of his front stairs, took off their shoes, and hid them underneath. With Mrs. Greene leading the way, they stepped onto the cold boards and quietly climbed up to his porch.

He’d left his porch lights off so they were concealed by darkness, but Kitty still looked around nervously, trying to see if anyone was watching them from their windows. A cheer drifted to them on the wind, and they all froze for a moment. Then Kitty put down the paper Bi-Lo bag around the corner of the porch away from the living room light, and Mrs. Greene carefully placed the cooler in the shadows next to it. Kitty pulled an aluminum baseball bat out of the grocery bag and gave the sheathed hunting knife to Maryellen, who didn’t know how to hold it. She decided it was just like a kitchen knife and that made it easier.

“My feet are freezing,” Kitty whispered.

“Shhh,” Mrs. Greene said.

The rushing wind helped hide the sounds they made as Maryellen carefully opened the screen door then tried the door handle while Kitty held the bat down by her leg, just in case. Mrs. Greene stood on Kitty’s other side, holding a hammer.

The door popped open, silently and easily.

They stepped inside fast. The wind wanted to slam the door shut, but Maryellen eased it gently into its frame. They stood in the quiet downstairs hall, listening, worried that the howling wind rushing through the door had alerted James Harris. Nothing moved. All they heard was a piano concerto surging softly from a radio in the living room to their left.

Mrs. Greene pointed to the stairs leading up into darkness, and Kitty took the lead, palms sweating on the rubberized grip of her baseball bat. She held it straight up by her right shoulder and walked sideways, left foot first, right foot coming behind, one carpeted step at a time. Mrs. Greene walked in the middle, Maryellen in the rear. They needed to get him down