Vampire Hunter: Corey Crowgarden's guide to killing vampires for fun and profit.

Lesson 2 part 5

They drove at a much slower pace back to the farmhouse to survey the damage. Moonlight and a sprinkle of stars warmed the inky sky. Compared to the excitement of the day it seemed very calm and serene. There was a light at the end of the drive way and a security light that came on as they drove the length of the drive through the ruts in the road left by the fire engines. Water from the pumpers had muddied the road and left puddles in the road near the house. They pulled up near the barn.
"Who will feed the animals?" Carrie asked, looking at the barn and thinking of the pigs, chickens and cows that now slept in the barn.
"I don't know," said Bobby. "We'll figure it out."
They put on heavy boots and painters coveralls. They always kept them in the trunk. Her father had suggested them when you're doing things you maybe shouldn't. If people see you they you look like common labourers doing a job. If you are afraid of leaving forensic evidence the fibers of the coveralls would be difficult to trace. You don't often reuse them, after a job you burn them to destroy evidence.
"Masks?" Bobby asked. Carrie shrugged and placed the painters mask over her face.
"We might run into something we don't want to smell," she replied and pulled the hood over her head.
"Good point," he said.
They put on gloves, more to protect their hands then out of fear of leaving prints. She slung her purse over her shoulder and across her body. She pulled the magazine from her pistol and reloaded it from the case in the toolbox. She cocked it, put it on safe and returned it to her bag.
Bobby raised an eyebrow, "Really?"
"Always prepared, boyscout."
He shrugged. "Good point," he replied and did the same. He undid the coveralls and stripped to the waist, he removed his long sleeve shirt, and was putting on a tshirt, with the intent of wearing a shoulder holster and leaving the coveralls a bit undone.
"Hurry it up there, Fabio," Carrie teased him, but checked out the muscles in his back all the same. She then turned and looked in the darkness towards the house, scanning like her father had taught her.
She heard the click of the magazine and the slide of the pistol loading a round in the chamber. There was the zipper being pulled up and the beam of a flashlight into the evening gloom.
"Here," Bobby said, handing her a flashlight and a pry bar. He held on to the other flashlight and had a shovel over his shoulder.
"Glad you're finally ready. Why don't we get you a bag like I've got, it would be a lot easier."
"No way," he said. "I don't want to look like a douche."
"Too late," she laughed. "Maybe a nice pink one."
He laughed too, "Sure, maybe 'Hello Kitty'."
They went silent for a moment, their banter unable to disguise their anxiety any longer.
Carrie sighed, "Let's go."
They walked side by side flashlights searching into the darkness in from to them. Everything was still wet and dripping, which was good, at least nothing was smoldering. The fire had appeared to engulf the second floor first then had collapsed down onto the first floor.
"Kitchen door?" Bobby suggested, and them moved to either side of the entrance. The door itself was split and had fallen outwards on to the paved walkway, the weight of the collapsing second floor breaking it. They pointed their flashlights inside, a canvas of black on black. The ceiling and much of the second story west wall was choking the space of the kitchen.
"Age before beauty," Bobby said and entered, moving along the south wall to the corner, his flashlight focusing on where to place his steps. He stood in the corner and raised his beam to look at the walls.
Carrie entered to, but gave him lots of space. There was a basement beneath the kitchen and a floor that was potentially compromised and already had a lot of weight on it.
"What are we looking for?" Bobby asked.
Not the bodies of my sister and her husband, Carrie thought.
"Something that should be broken, but isn't," Carrie said.
They scanned the east side of the kitchen. The cupboard were broken, having tumbled on to the counter and the floor. Shards of broken plates, cups and glassed littered the floor, the sink was full of broken pieces of floor, ceiling and wall and had been charred as though they were in a brasier. Only the fridge stood tall, soot covered and dented. She could still make out some of the magnets on it.
The freezer.
"Bobby, open the fridge and check the freezer," She moved slightly towards the center of the room to give him more light and she could feel the groan of the floor beneath her. "Be careful," she said.
"Careful is my middle name," he said. No it isn't, she thought, more like reckless or crazy. He leaned the prybar against the remains of the counter, then opened the door, blocking her view.
"Gross!" he yelled.
"What!" she said with a start.
"Look at all this Kale! What kind of weirdo's are your sister and her husband. Soy milk. Eggs."
Asshole, she thought, he had really made her jump, like there must be a severed head in their or something.
"In the freezer, you jerk," she said.
"Some disgusting looking melting yogurt stuff... Thank God!"
"What?!"
"Bacon! They've restored my faith in humanity."
"I have a gun you know," she said.
"Ice trays, fish fillets... oh, and a little silver box that is locked."
Bingo.