The Southern Book Club's Guide to Slaying Vampires - Grady Hendrix Page 0,46

door and saw an enormous, wet, black rat sitting motionless beside the fan, staring at her. The air over its patchy, piebald back practically shimmered with disease. Mrs. Greene felt her bowels fill with ice water. She’d seen plenty of rats in her lifetime, but never one as big as this, and certainly not one sitting all cool and collected as if it owned the place.

“Shoo!” Mrs. Greene said, flicking her hands in its direction and stamping her foot. Ragtag lifted his head as if it weighed five hundred pounds and gave her a look, wondering if that “shoo” was directed at him.

“Go on, Ragtag,” Mrs. Greene said, recognizing her natural ally. “Get that mean old rat. Get it!”

Ragtag’s head tracked her gestures and saw the rat and, without moving a muscle, he began to growl from deep inside his throat. The rat oozed its body out long and flowed down onto the first step, and Mrs. Greene saw that it was as big as a man’s shoe. Ragtag’s growls went up in pitch, but they didn’t seem to trouble the rat. Ragtag scrambled out from under the bed and faced the rat square on, his growl escalating, building toward a bark, and then it cut off with a yelp as three other, smaller, equally filthy rats poured down the steps on either side of the fat one and scurried across the carpet, coming for Mrs. Greene.

Ragtag ran at them without hesitation and seized one in his jaws and shook his head twice, once to break its neck, and again to fling its corpse against the wall. The second and third rats vanished beneath Miss Mary’s hospital bed.

Mrs. Greene had pulled her bare feet up onto her chair, but now she realized she had to get involved. There would be a stick or a mop in the utility room behind her, and she needed to chase these rats out of the house before they bit someone.

“We got some rats in here, Miss Mary,” Mrs. Greene said, standing up. “But me and Ragtag are going to get rid of them.”

She went to the utility room door, then stopped when she saw the padlock they’d put on to secure it after that night Mrs. Campbell thought a man tried to get in the house. No one had given her a key.

BANG!

Something crashed behind her and she whirled to see Ragtag skip back in fear from the box fan that slid to a stop facedown at the bottom of the steps. Several new rats had joined the huge one on the steps, and they looked filthy, fur missing in patches, bodies encrusted in scabs, noses twitching. The box fan made a low, muffled moaning sound, unable to suck air from the carpet, and more rats jammed the doorway. Ragtag ran at them, barking, but they didn’t budge.

“Get ’em, Ragtag!” Mrs. Greene said. “Get ’em!”

Mrs. Greene knew what to do. She would shut Miss Mary in the small bathroom across from the utility room, and then she’d get a blanket and she and Ragtag would drive these things back. As long as Ragtag stayed with her she could handle this.

“Miss Mary, I’m going to take you to the powder room for a minute,” she said.

She leaned down and got her hands into Miss Mary’s damp armpits and started to lift her up. Miss Mary gave a miserable groan and then Mrs. Greene smelled something rank. She looked up.

Rats covered the den, spilling from the door and falling clumsily onto the top step: wet and muddy, three-legged and four-legged, long-tailed and no-tailed and vile. Black eyes shone, whiskers twitched, tails squirmed, their seething bodies packed together in the doorway. None of them made a sound. A carpet of rats covered the floor of the den so thick, Mrs. Greene couldn’t see the yellow linoleum, and more piled in from the dining room, from the back door, from the front hall, surging into the den, covering it like a seething pool of matted fur, crawling over each other, forming a packed, squirming mass.

How’d they get in here so fast? Where did they all come from?

Something bumped her leg and she looked down to see Ragtag, body stiff, facing