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  ‘Mr. Wellbord, can horror stories ever have other types of story mixed in with them, like a horror story that also had a plot like Chip’s in it as well?’

  ‘You mean a blend of horror and romance? I’m not sure, I suppose it’s possible, but you couldn’t really make the horror bit scary or exciting at all, as you might upset the people – girls, I imagine – who liked the romantic parts. I don’t think it would be a particularly satisfying combination, but you never know, it could turn out to be very popular.’ He turned to the blackboard with a dismissive shrug. ‘I’m going to make some notes here about the most common types of supernatural threat you could face. Do pay attention, this stuff could save your life one day.’

  He began to write in large letters: ‘Zombies’, ‘Werewolves’, ‘Mummies’ and, thrillingly, ‘Vampires’. Surely this would tell me what I needed to know …

  After a few minutes, Mr. Wellbord had finished. I ignored the other headings and read what he’d written under ‘Vampires’. On the list I read ‘Die in Daylight’, ‘Make Poor Boyfriends’ and ‘Tend Not to Enroll in High School’, none of which seemed applicable to Teddy from what I knew of him. This was agony – the more I found out about vampires, the more confused I became.

  ‘Mr. Wellbord, are these rules always true? I mean, could there be a vampire who did walk around in the daytime, and who was promising boyfriend material?’

  ‘I suppose it’s possible, Heffa; the world of fiction is somewhat fluid, after all. Maybe if the story’s author found a monster’s traditional characteristics preposterous, or narratively inconvenient, they might tweak them a bit – or they might even be tempted to dispense with the whole lot of them!’ He chuckled at the prospect. I crossed my fingers tightly and hoped that Stephfordy was listening.

  At lunch, Teddy and his siblings were at their usual table in the cafeteria, and I was tempted to go right over and confront him. How could he sit there calmly slurping the blood out of his steak, while my mind and groin were in turmoil thinking about him? Wanda and Justin insisted that I join them at their table and, after a moment, I agreed. I still didn’t know for sure whether Teddy was a vampire, a cyborg, or a hot yet sinister male model, and I didn’t want to make a fool of myself in front of the whole school. I debated asking the others at the table for their opinion, but was interrupted before I could speak by raised voices from the other end of the cafeteria.

  Principal Shirley was having a stern conversation with four students I didn’t recognize. They were rangy boys with long, greasy, brown hair, and they were identically dressed in plaid shirts and hideous, stain-covered jeans. They all had bushy sideburns and two of them had beards; they were definitely hairier than most of the students here, except for that little yellow bear kid. They might have been brothers, or, more likely, members of the same gang.

  I couldn’t hear what Miss Shirley was saying to them, but they didn’t seem to like it. After a minute, the tallest of them shouted, ‘Don’t lecture me, man, we ain’t doin’ nothin’ wrong in your precious basement, we’re just hangin’ out and practicin’. You can’t stop us livin’, you damn fascist!’

  To prove his point, he kicked the nearest table over and then stalked out, the rest of his pack following close behind. Miss Shirley shook her head with concern, or despair. Wanda seemed to know everyone here, so I asked her about the strangely hairy newcomers.

  ‘They transferred here from La Trine High School, out on the Utensil Indian reservation. Apparently, the principal there thought they had the potential to have their own storyline, but I can’t see them being that significant. The one who was shouting is called Joe, Joe Cahontas. They’re total slackers, but I think they’re in some kind of gang, or band, or something. They call themselves “The Protection Racket”. They do lend the Academy a hint of gritty social realism, but it looks like Miss Shirley is having her doubts about them, and I can’t say I blame her.’

  With this last prissy comment, Wanda turned back to Piper, leaving me wondering if this Joe Cahontas would turn out to be important or not. Maybe if things didn’t work out with Teddy, I could callously latch on to him on the rebound. I’d never spoken to him, of course, but I assumed he’d want to go out with me. Didn’t everyone?

  That afternoon, I headed for Spatula Town Library. It was a nice day, with visibility out to about fifty feet and only light rain. I didn’t really expect to find any useful information there, but the library was on one side of Spatula Town Park, and I thought that a stroll among the manicured lawns and neatly trimmed bushes might help to calm my inner storm.

  I was no closer to understanding the truth about Teddy Kelledy. Was he a vampire, as so much evidence seemed to suggest, or did he just really like red meat, and biting things? Was it time to start sharpening that stake? My legs suddenly felt as weak and exhausted as my brain, so I sat down on the grass to rest.

  I stared vacantly at the fountains in the lake at the center of the park, and something about the gushing torrents of water foaming and bubbling and threatening to burst out of the pool’s narrow channel made me realize I didn’t care what Teddy was. Vampire or not, I wanted him for myself. I wanted to feel his hard pouting lips on mine as his muscled alabaster arms embraced me, before his hand slid effortlessly down past the waistband of my jeans …

  There was a strange dampness between my thighs. I leaped to my feet – the darn grass was wet with dew, and my pants were soaked through. The humidity in this town was just ridiculous.

  Now that I’d decided that Teddy and I were going to be together forever, the rest of the world seemed to come back into focus, like it had switched from a looming close-up of my troubled face to a swooping crane shot of the whole park. There were groups of teens everywhere. I’d never seen such a popular place, but I guess there wasn’t a whole lot else to do in Spatula. Maybe I should suggest to Chump that he opened an arcade or something; he’d clean up.

  I could see Joe Cahontas and his gang over by the bandstand. They seemed slightly hairier than they had done at lunch. Joe sat idly strumming a guitar, while the others busied themselves arranging amplifiers and other bits of musical equipment. This must be ‘The Protection Racket’. I considered sticking around to hear them play; I was sure Joe would be keen to learn from my assessment of their musical shortcomings.

  They were taking an age to set up, though, and my attention wandered. Over on the other side of the lake, another gang of kids was gathered. They were dressed differently to Joe and his plaid-favoring friends, with baseball caps turned backwards and sweats with crotches about four inches off the floor. They were playing music on a beat-up old boom box. It was indistinct, but I caught just enough of the thumping bass and non-stop profanity to identify it as hip-hop. They had rolled out a piece of linoleum, and were taking it in turns to show off their acrobatic dance moves. They were certainly impressive – Trey McBlande looked nailed to the floor by comparison.

  They were different to other b-boys I’d seen, though. For as well as performing the traditional caterpillars and headspins, several of them repeated a strange move where they stuck out their arms straight ahead and bent their legs awkwardly, before shambling from one side of the lino to the other. They whooped it up after every repetition, exchanging handshakes as complicated as the move itself was simple.

  Sitting alone, watching these gangs and their peculiar rituals, I realized again how different I was from the other, run-of-the-mill teens in town. I would always be a mystery to them, and they would forever appear shallow to me, for they lacked the deep well of self-importance that made me so uniquely interesting.

  How lucky I was that Teddy Kelledy had come into my life. He was alone like me (apart from our respective loving families), and he was a misfit too, with his otherworldly beauty, strange nineteenth-century speech patterns, and lack of pulse. Face it, Teddy, I thought – we’re perfect for each other, and you’re stuck with me.

  As if the universe (or possibly Stephfordy Mayo) was in a rush to prove me right, no soone
r had I finished the thought than I saw Teddy in the distance, scurrying along the path from the library. He was clutching a stack of books in his arms. How I wished he’d bend me open and crack my spine! His broad shoulders were hunched and he seemed to be in a hurry.

  Naturally, I assumed he’d spotted me and was desperate to be with me, but then I saw that he was being chased by a mob of youths dressed all in black. They were jeering at him, ‘Where you going so fast, bookworm?’ and laughing. I saw the leader pick up a rock in his fishnet-gloved hand and pitch it at Teddy. It hit him on the back of the leg and he stumbled, dropping his books.

  He was quickly surrounded, and as I lost sight of him, I became angry. I’d only just found Teddy, and no way were a bunch of marauding goths going to take him away from me. As I marched quickly over, I could hear the leader continuing to taunt him. ‘Oh look, the little wimp got a girl’s book, written by a girl. Forever by Judy Blume? You trying to get in touch with your feminine side, pretty boy?’

  I shoved my way towards the center of the crowd, frantically trying to catch a glimpse of Teddy as the mocking voice continued. ‘We know all about you, Kelledy, you and your puny family. Maybe you think you’re too good to wear an Avenged Sevenfold T-shirt like the rest of us? You’ve been getting in our way for a long time, but now it’s time for you to get lost, permanently.’

  I burst into the space at the center of the circle. The goth leader was standing over Teddy with his fists clenched, his skull rings glittering in the afternoon light. Teddy was on the floor, propped up on one elbow. He made to shield himself with his other arm, but his face was oddly calm, betraying no emotion. I screamed, ‘Stop, don’t hurt my pretty man!’ at the top of my voice and stepped between Teddy and his attacker.

  Suddenly, the jeering goths fell silent. Their leader lowered his fists, and a look of surprise replaced the sneering visage of a moment before. The whole group stood perfectly still, so I glanced at Teddy, who smiled ‘hello’ weakly.

  One of the goths spoke. ‘Look at her skin. It’s so pale.’

  Another chimed in: ‘And her hair, it’s the blackest I’ve ever seen, and it looks natural.’

  Then they all started to talk to each other at once, in low, excited tones. A couple of the goths had fallen to their knees. I looked again at Teddy, who shrugged – he clearly had no idea what was happening either. This is a bit weird, I thought, but not unpleasant. They seemed to be … worshipping me. Recognition at last!

  The leader held out his hand to me, and spoke. ‘You are Heffa Lump, are you not?’ I nodded. ‘Your skin is as pale as the moon, and your hair is dark as the night. I sense your loneliness, and your yearning to belong to a group, no matter how lame. We can help you, Heffa. You must come with us. It is your destiny. Join me, become a goth. Soon The Reshuffle will happen, and then together we will make all of Spatula cower in fear!’

  He seemed genuinely keen to make me come, which was flattering, but all in all I thought I’d rather join with Teddy, if any joining was going to happen today. Best to decline politely. ‘Become a goth? What sort of clichéd teenager do you think I am?! I’m offended, frankly. You guys are pathetic, with your pasty skin and black hair and morbid self-obsession, what makes you think we’ve got anything in common? I’m an individual, thank you very much.’

  He looked shocked, but then smiled menacingly. ‘You misunderstood me, Heffa. It is your destiny. I was not offering you a choice.’ He turned to his gang. ‘Boz, give me your blackest lipstick, and you two, grab her arms. Heffa’s going to be joining us, the hard way.’

  I backed away from the make-up-wielding goth, conscious that their circle was closing in on me. Escape seemed impossible, but maybe it wouldn’t be so bad; The Cure did have a couple of good albums …

  ‘Nooo-argh!’ came a guttural scream of pure, violent hatred, and Teddy jumped to his feet. His face was twisted with rage and his mouth snapped open and closed, revealing his fangs in all their long, pointy majesty. He thrilled and terrified me in equal measure. I stood rooted to the spot while he proved, pretty conclusively, that my suspicions about his supernatural origins were correct.

  He ran forward, pounced on the leader and tumbled with him to the ground. I saw Teddy tear the struggling goth’s throat out with a single bite, as easily as you’d tear open a condom wrapper. As the arterial spray from the ruined neck spurted into the air, the rest of the goths fell on Teddy, and he disappeared beneath a writhing heap of blackness. Their fists rained down again and again, and I feared that his beautiful, even features would be lost to me.

  I needn’t have worried. The pile of goths shuddered, and a vast jet of blood and entrails shot into the air as Teddy sprang free, straight through the bodies of his hapless tormentors. As the limbs and organs squelched wetly back to earth, he seemed to hang in the air for a moment. I felt like I was seeing the real Teddy for the first time, covered from head to toe in blood and gore, and I marveled at his terrible beauty. At the apex of his leap, his crimson eyes looked into mine, and as he held my gaze, he licked his blood-soaked lips. I shuddered with pleasure, and made sure to store the image for later use.

  He landed in a crouch, then dashed forward with his arms stretched out sideways. He beheaded two of the fleeing goths with a casual flick of each wrist – his fingernails were even pointier than I’d dreamed. He leaped into the air again, executed an impressive but somewhat show off-y double somersault, and landed in front of me, frowning with concern.

  ‘Heffa, I do hope you are not unduly alarmed? You should not have interfered. I had the situation well under control, and by getting involved you needlessly endangered yourself. Also, while I enjoyed that brief scuffle a lot, it was over rather quickly. I think I may yet have to rip you to shreds, too, if I am to be satisfied.’

  ‘Mmmm, rip me to shreds, Teddy,’ I mumbled dreamily, as I watched the blood trickle down his perfect face.

  The sound of screeching tires interrupted this tender moment. A black truck was barreling towards us at high speed. It had a bat painted on the hood, in a slightly different shade of black, and a goth hunched over the steering wheel with a distinctly vengeful expression on his face. The flatbed trailer was filled with goths too, and each brandished a silver scythe.

  ‘More goths – Heffa, come, we must away. My vehicle is parked hither, let’s make a run for it!’

  He held my waist in his firm grasp and lifted me off the ground, before dashing across the park towards the library parking lot. His touch made me light-headed and I thought about swooning for a bit, but resisted. I didn’t want to miss a second of this.

  He tossed me off into the passenger seat of his sleek convertible, and swung himself with acrobatic grace into the driver’s side. The truck was bearing down on us as he started his engine. From the bandstand, I heard Joe Cahontas shout, ‘One, two, three, four!’ as his band finally started to play. The truck was pulling alongside as Teddy stepped on the accelerator. We gained speed and sparks flew as the side of the goth truck clashed with Teddy’s convertible. The music The Protection Racket were playing was a sort of thrashy grunge rock. That song would make a great soundtrack to a car-chase scene, I thought, as Teddy skidded the car out of the lot and onto the open road.

  We sped up quickly, but the goths stayed glued to our tail. We were soon approaching the crossroads and Teddy glanced anxiously into his rearview mirror.

  ‘That truck is faster than its appearance might indicate. Perhaps we may be able to lose them on the coast road; I doubt that they can take corners with the same agility that my steel beauty can.’ He patted the dashboard creepily, and with a deftly executed skid took the turn for ‘All Other Destinations’.

  This was the first time I’d been out this way, and the scenery flashed by so fast that I didn’t think there was any point bothering to describe it. The goths were still right behind us and I could see the driver screaming at his truck to go faster. After a mile or so, the road began to climb and the woods to our left fell away, replaced by a sheer d
rop down the cliff to the crashing sea below. I wanted to hold Teddy, but didn’t want to distract him. Instead, I clutched the dashboard, which was slightly cold and hard, but not much of a substitute.

  The road snaked around a series of tight corners as it hugged the cliff edge, and Teddy had to slow down to keep the car under control. The goths came alongside us then, and I screamed as I saw one of the scythe-wielders preparing to leap the small gap between our vehicles. Teddy yanked the steering wheel to the left and we slammed into the side of the truck. I saw their driver lose his grip on the wheel, and caught the briefest glimpse of his panicked expression before the truck shot off the road and over the edge of the cliff.

  Teddy stopped his car and we watched as the arc of the truck’s flight changed from gracefully horizontal to terminally vertical. It hit the rocks at the bottom of the cliff and exploded in a black fireball. A moment later, the sound and the shockwave reached us, and it was over.

  Teddy pretended to exhale with relief, and then laughed self-consciously. ‘That was somewhat exhilarating, was it not?’

  I was fit to burst with ‘exhilaration’. ‘Wow, yeah, a massive fight, and then a car chase, with an exploding car! I never expected there to be something so cool in this sort of story! I bet that would make a brilliant scene in a movie, if they ever made a film of our story, Teddy.’ I bounced in my seat with excitement at the prospect.

  ‘Yes, it would, but looking at the damage to my car, I fear that it would be a very expensive sequence to film. Probably easiest to leave the whole thing out and just put another couple of slushy dialog scenes in instead.’

  As my face fell, he added cheerily, ‘It’s not all bad, though, Mr. McClane will probably let us graduate “Action Sequences 101” early.’

  Then he adopted a serious expression, and fixed me with his lime-green eyes.

  ‘Heffa, you put yourself in terrible danger back there. That was very foolish of you. I know we haven’t known each other long, but there seems to be something big growing between us, and I would never forgive myself if anything happened to you.’