Out For Blood 29

Sam Newell was heading down highway 460 in a blue Ford with a red trunk and stolen plates, his passenger Dane Benton was laughing. ‘Hell, that was one of the easiest ones we ever did get,’ he drawled. ‘Straight outta the shitter and into my arms. Sounds like a song don’it’

‘Yeah? Well I aint too happy bout it Dane,’ complained Sam.
‘Ah cool ya heels, aint nobody seen me do it.’
‘I told you, we only take the ones we bin watchin’ so we don’t fuck things up. And thems Ellas’ rules.’
‘Oh yeah… Like that redhead ya done shot to fuck? Ya sayin’ that weren’t fucked up?’
‘That wasn’t my fault Dane, if them fuckin’ cops hadn’t showed up we’da had her no messin’.’

‘Yeah well, plannin’ or no plannin’ we got what we came for. So stop ya yelpin.’
‘Am just sayin’ is all,’ said Sam. ‘I take it she’s still a virgin?’
Dane closed his eyes and smelt the air. ‘When I got a hold o’ her… she smelt like a fresh born baby girl.’
Sam grinned. ‘Oh ma’an!’

After a couple more minutes Dane noticed someone hitching a ride. ‘Well lookee what we got here!’ He said.

Sam slowed the car as they passed the hitcher and pulled up slightly ahead of him.
Dane stuck the top half of his body out of the window. ‘Where ya headed boy?’ he shouted.

The kid was about seventeen-years-old, five-foot-eight in height with shoulder length blond hair and carrying a guitar case, his arms were passed through the handles of a holdall holding it to his back. ‘Nashville Tennessee, gonna get me a record deal.’ He said smiling.

Dane then got out. ‘Well aint you the lucky one sonny, Tennessee is where we’re headed too!’ He lied.

Dane opened the rear door for the kid and took his guitar and holdall. ‘You just hop right on in there Elvis an I’ll put your gear in the trunk.’
The kid got in and immediately screwed his face up at the smell of sweat and piss. ‘Well, I… I don’t know how to thank you fellas… really!’ He said wafting his hand before his face.

‘Say, how old are you kid?’ said Sam looking in his mirror.
‘Seventeen a week last Tuesday.’

Dane opened the trunk and picking up the kids guitar he tossed it into the ditch at the side of the road, and then he did the same with the holdall. Looking down into the trunk he bent at the waist and licked the face of their days work, who at that moment was still unconscious.

Closing the trunk again he climbed back into the front of the car and Sam set off. ‘So Elvis,’ said Dane leaning into the back . ‘Ever wished you hadn’t done something just after you did it? You know what I mean kid?’
The kids eyes narrowed. ‘I don’t understa—’ he was interrupted by an excrutiating pain to his nose and bright specklets of light criss-crossing before his eyes.

‘Hey lookee here…’ laughed Dane as he landed another punch to the kids face. ‘Elvis has left the buildin’.’

Sam saw a billboard further along the road, when they reached it he parked the car behind it and the two of them got out and dragged the kid screaming from the back seat. He was shouting for his mom fearing he was going to die. Dane picked up a rock and thrust it against the kids head. He didn’t kill him however, he knows blood doesn’t pump from a dead body, and having to suck hard kinda spoils the feast.

The kid lay limp on the floor and Sam and Dane tucked in. Sam bit on the kids left wrist and Dane bit on the kids right, he slowly began to regain consiousness as the blood was being drained from his body. They both sat back to back on the kids chest, each with an arm pulled between their legs, his head on one side and his legs on the other.

This way they could allow him to come round and keep him pinned, so when he did regain consciousness he would realise what was happening to him and his heart rate would increase, thus in turn increasing the flow of blood and their enjoyment of it. Everytime the kid started to scream he would receive a blow to his groin from either Sam or Dane.

After ten minutes of this the kid passed out, and it wasn’t long before he had passed on. Dane and Sam then jerked up and down on the kids chest to pump out the last of the blood. From the first taste to the last drop had only taken around fifteen minutes, they both wiped their mouths with the back of their hands and smiled to each other.

‘Seventeen, a week last Tuesday,’ said Sam. ‘Fuckin’ great year!’
They left the kids body where it lay and carried on for Martinsville, after only a couple more miles Dane turned to Sam. ‘Hey Sam, we gotta make one more stop!’

‘Oh yeah? What for?’ Sam didn’t like unscheduled stops.
‘Can’t say.’
‘Well if you can’t say then we aint stoppin’.’
Dane opened the glove-box and took out the police officers gun and held it to Sams’ head. ‘Pull over Sam,’ he said cocking the hammer.
‘What the fuck are you playin’ at Dane?’
‘Pull over now Sam… or I’m gonna shoot you.’

Sam pulled the car over and turned to Dane. ‘What the fucks up with you Dane?’ he shouted.
Dane got out of the car and walked around to the drivers side. ‘Move over, I’m drivin’.’
Sam sighed heavily and slid over to the passenger side, Dane got in the drivers seat and put the gun in the door-well beside his left leg.

‘So where we goin’?’ asked Sam.
‘A little place I know… called Lynchburg.’
‘Lynchburg? That’s miles out of our way!’
‘Yeah I know, but we got a package to pick up, something Ella said was most important.’
Dane hit the gas and they sped away.