Page 4 of Plaidypus
While in their fifties, they did what we wouldn’t, and I couldn’t have been more proud of them even if I tried. I’d regret dodging college in a few years, but with my brother being a vampire and living in the one place where vampires faced immediate execution, I couldn’t afford to go to classes anyway.
Someone might visit, spot his fangs, and murder him.
It wasn’t like he’d asked to be changed into a vampire, and I had done my best to avoid the damned moose.
I regarded the moose with a sigh. As far as zombie moose went, I even liked her when I was honest about the situation. She didn’t bother anyone, didn’t seem to have a fixation on brains, and just wanted to continue her eternal life eating grass.
It wasn’t her fault she’d gotten startled across the road. It hadn’t been my fault she’d jumped directly in front of me, either.
I blamed the hotspot. New hotspots terrified the local wildlife.
Five minutes in, I abandoned my job search to head into my brother’s domain and observe his efforts to give us five whole minutes of fame on the internet. Then, because I could cling to my guilt with the best of them, I said, “Maybe we should tell our parents.”
“As our parents aren’t vampire-murdering dickheads, I have no problem with telling our parents. However, you know how dad gets about lycanthropes.”
I winced. As he’d been the one responsible for my shapeshifting tendencies, he tended to get cranky about the lycanthropes, as they had perks we shapeshifters didn’t. Until me, shapeshifters couldn’t contract lycanthropy. Once he found out I was infected with the virus, he’d flip.
“I still don’t know how a damned my little pony spawned a platypus,” I complained. “A Shetland pony, for that matter. He’s an endangered species among shapeshifters, and here I am, a platypus. Do you know what platypuses have in common with Shetland ponies?”
“Absolutely nothing,” my brother dutifully replied. “I’m going to open a crowdfunding account to escape my personal version of hell and link to it in the video. That way, we may get some benefactors who would pay for us to go somewhere sane. I’m suddenly grateful Mom and Dad got us our US citizenship. We could go crash on their couch for a while.”
Their couch was big enough for two wayward children, and I considered the idea, narrowing my eyes. “When you do that crowdfund thing, stipulate if a ridiculous amount of money is contributed, I am going on a vacation.”
He laughed, as neither one of us had gone on a vacation since reaching adulthood. “I’ll do that. And I know someone who’d be happy to take over the house here.”
“Who?”
“Saul.”
Ah. As far as my brother was concerned, Saul made the world circle the sun, may as well have been an angel in disguise, and could do no wrong. Fortunately for my brother, Saul tended to be responsible, fixed anything he broke, and would make an excellent long-term renter. “I’ll even talk our parents into giving him a half-decent rent on the place.”
“You take care of our parents, I will take care of the funding.” My brother cracked his knuckles. “You, as always, were brilliant in your play-by-play. What are you naming the new sport?”
“Undead elimination tag,” I replied.
“Oh, nice. Brutal but nice. We can nickname it the Undead Derby or something. What are the rules?”
“There are rules?”
“Maybe we should call it undead cricket instead.”
“That’s not necessarily a bad idea. I’ll give our parents a call and see if they’re willing to host us so we can escape the insanity. Do me a favor and send that video to Mom after you get it online.”
“You got it.”
As my cell phone could barely hold a connection, I went to make myself a new hot chocolate before heading into the living room to use the landline to call our parents. Armed with my favorite drink, I dialed my mother’s cell and prayed for mercy, help, or patience from some divine.
“Hey, baby. How are you?” my mother answered.
“Terrible, actually. Beyond terrible. It’s so bad right now.”
My mother hesitated. “Are we talking about you ran out of pads and don’t want to go to the store bad or you’re out of hot chocolate and all the stores are closed bad?”
“I hit a moose in a hotspot bad, and now my brother is a vampire bad,” I replied.
My mother sucked in a breath, and I could readily imagine her blinking as she processed the news. “You hit a moose in a hotspot, and now your brother is a vampire?”
“You know how we sometimes talked about moose flying through windshields? Well, that happened. The moose is now a zombie, and she’s grazing in the front yard. She followed us home, and she refuses to go away. There’s a skulk of vampiric foxes that like to hang out, too. The mummified ice wolf is bad news, because it took out the beavers, and let me tell you, Team Beavers were, prior to their run in with the mummified ice wolf, the undisputed badboys of the undead wildlife in town.”
