Home Improvement: Undead Edition

It was a quiet voice, a teasing voice.

A feminine and sensual voice.

Austin’s blood ran cold throughout his veins. He wanted to jump up and run, run as far as he could possibly run. Staying still was almost impossible.

His heart!

His heart was thumping so loudly that it seemed like a marching band was playing in his chest! Surely, the sound would be heard. And his breathing . . . oh, Lord! Every inhalation and exhalation seemed like the winds of the worst hurricane on record.

“Come out, come out, I know you want to play. . . .”

He didn’t want to play. He wanted to be Austin Cramer, computer geek, commanding animated figures on the screen.

“Austin!” The voice whispered his name.

She knew him. And, oh, God—he knew her. He knew the voice. It was Adriana Morgan who was out there, and it was as if she were sniffing him out, as if she had . . . radar! She knew where he was.

Crunch, crunch, crunch . . .

And then nothing.

But he could feel her. She was right outside the iron gate.

He rolled, as silently as he could. He had to get away. Where? He was in a tomb. He began flailing in the shadows, mindless; not even knowing what he was looking for. And then, as he kept inching back, he leaned a hand against the marble near the floor....

And it gave.

He pushed it, and rolled.

He came to rest on a patch of dirt. Good old dirt. There was no coffin in the tomb. If someone had been laid to rest where he lay, their remains had long since given way to the furnace-heat of summer, and they had been swept back to the holding area. No, where he lay, it was completely clear and clean, a bed of fresh, natural- smelling earth.

“Austin, come on, come out!”

He heard the rusty gates swing open. She was coming for him.

“Austin, come on baby, I know what you said about a night of abstinence, but I’m ready. I’m ready to do what I want to do in all the carnal ways! Carnal. Well, carnivorous, maybe, too. Come on, Austin, I’m ready to show you the time of your life!”

He lay still, stunned and in shock.

Adriana?

No! It was impossible. Impossible. Impossible . . .

Adriana killing people . . . killing people like Brian! A big old strong football-hero guy. How could little Adriana have gotten to a guy like Brian?

Couldn’t be, couldn’t be, couldn’t be . . .

“Austin, don’t make me angry! All right, I do like to play with my food, but . . . hmm. I’d thought about leaving you for another night, but the full moon doesn’t come around that often. I mean, really, it’s great with the police thinking that it has to be you! Oh, they would string you up faster than a man can swat a fly!” She laughed, the sound of her voice still so teasing and petulant—and sensual. “Wait! They don’t string men up anymore, do they? Well, they’ll give you the needle. Actually, hmm, think of all the fear while you wait for them to make all the fussy arrangements, strapping you in and all that. I really would love to wait around and see, but . . . I’m still hungry, Austin. I had a few snacks tonight, but I had to be careful—had to make it look like you. But that doesn’t matter anymore,’cause the playing just didn’t do it for me. I’m so, so hungry! So hungry for you!”

He didn’t even dare breathe. He lay there, frozen.

“Austin! Silly boy—I will find you. I can smell you, you know that. I’ll hear your little rabbit heart pretty soon . . . come on out. I can make it fun, and then . . . I can even make it easy. Catch that carotid while you’re still shaking with bliss. Don’t make me angry, Austin! I’m not fun when I’m angry. And I’m the most erotic thing you’ve ever experienced when I’m not.”

Fear streaked through him with an icy vengeance. He could hear her sniffing—just as if she were a dog. Sniffing and sniffing the air. He heard her move, and he could almost see her, imagine her bending down, and figuring out that the marble slab that covered the bottom tomb wasn’t really a marble slab at all; it was a swinging door....

It opened. The moonlight in the main tomb seemed brilliant after he had lain in the slab-covered dirt area for many minutes. He saw her. Saw her perfect face, saw her smile. Saw the blond hair, sweeping down around her shoulders.

“There you are, Austin!” she said.

Then she cast her head back, and she let out an ungodly sound. It was a howl, it was worse than a howl; it was like a dozen wolves crying out beneath the moonlight in pure victory....

Wolves!

She contorted. Her head snapped back; her arms bent forward at a bizarre angle. Hair—luscious golden hair—suddenly seemed to burst out all over her body, and she fell down to all fours. Her eyes narrowed and her nose grew, and she opened her mouth and it was filled with sharp white teeth that seemed to glitter and gleam in the moonlight.

She growled and lunged.

He felt her breath, hot and fetid, and he felt the dripping of saliva and he closed his eyes, screaming as he nearly felt the reach of those teeth, snapping for him with fanged vengeance....

“Get the hell off him!” he heard.

And, miraculously, she was wrenched away from the tomb. The marble slab waved wildly, and Austin rolled out and as far across the tomb as he could, ready to lunge to his feet at any opportunity.

DeFeo Montville was there; he was back. And he had wrenched the Adriana-thing away from him just a split second before she could sink her fangs into his flesh.

She was massive; a massive golden wolf. But DeFeo had her by the scruff of the neck, shaking her. She yelped and growled, desperately trying to wrangle free and sink her teeth into him. But his grip was incredible. So strong.

Then DeFeo cast his head back and opened his mouth.

Austin let off a silent gasp of astonishment as huge fangs sprouted in DeFeo’s mouth. He sank them into Adriana’s neck.

She wriggled; she let out one last weak growl....

And she went silent, wolf’s head cast to the side.

He dropped her, shaking his head.

Then he stared at Austin. “Look, you’ve already got your occasional stray werewolf wandering into the city, the kooks who think they’re aliens . . . don’t ever, ever get involved in any ridiculous demonology business again, and I don’t give a damn if you ever get laid again in your life!”

AUSTIN STOOD BACK.

The beautiful temple-style tomb with its pillars and portico and weeping angel looked magnificent, if he did say so himself. A little fresh plaster, and a nice new paint job, and flowers surrounding the gate. He had done a great job—really!

It had taken all day, and now dusk was falling, but he was done. He whistled while he finished his work, picking up the paint cans and the brushes from the last of his ministrations to the tomb. He crawled out of his work overalls, set them with his supplies in his wheelbarrow, and then hurried out. The gate would lock soon and he no longer kept a key.

He deposited the wheelbarrow and its contents in the back of his ordinary white van.

Letters advertised his new life’s plan on the van. CRAMER HOME REPAIR.

He drove on to his new favorite hangout on Frenchmen Street. Walking in, he took a seat at the bar. Joe looked up at him, nodded, and poured him a beer.