Maybe she had aged well. Maybe her special diet had healed her.

  Maybe she could even rejoin him in the house.

  By the time Larry crawled into the mine, he was almost giddy with all the possibilities. After some quick work dealing with neighbors, he would be able to sit down with Rita and have an actual face-to-face conversation.

  And then he saw her actual face.

  Rita was wrestling with Samantha, and when Larry shined his penlight on her, she looked up at him and froze.

  The girl ran off.

  His eyes filled with tears, staring at the abomination his sister had become.

  “Oh, Rita. Rita, Rita, dear dear Rita. I’m so, so, so very sorry.”

  Rita covered her deformed face with her deformed hands. “Don’t look, Larry…”

  “I shouldn’t have kept you down here, Rita. I didn’t know it had gotten this bad. I swear, I didn’t know.”

  Larry went to her, hugging his poor sister, wishing for the thousandth time that he could somehow take away her anguish.

  “Is there anything I can do, dear Rita? Anything at all I can do for you?”

  “Hungry. I so hungry, Larry.”

  “Then let’s go feed you, Rita.”

  Larry raised the shotgun, holding the penlight against the fore-end, and led her deeper into the mine.

  Passing piles and piles of bones.

  Passing a wall of pictures. More pictures than he’d ever given her.

  So where had she gotten them?

  Larry pieced it together, shocked by the revelation.

  “Rita? Are you the Peeper?”

  “Don’t ee angry.”

  Larry wasn’t angry. He was surprised.

  “So you haven’t been trapped down here. You can get out.”

  “Yes.”

  The more he thought about it, the more he cozied up to the idea. Not only had Rita been able to see the outside world, she’d also been able to see him.

  All of those times, catching the Peeper peeking in through the windows.

  It had been his sister all along.

  That actually warmed Larry’s heart.

  “Leave my daughter alone!”

  A man’s voice.

  “Rita, is that Phineas? Is he down here?”

  “He’s tied.”

  “You’ve been getting your own food?” Larry beamed with pride. “That’s wonderful.”

  And then they walked around a corner, and the shooting began.

  PHIN

  My ears. My nose. My cheeks. My chin. My lips.

  Rita kept trying to bite my face.

  But I kept fending her off.

  The drugged cookie had helped with my overall pain, so whenever she opened her jaws and tried to latch on, she got a head-butt to discourage her. When Rita moved to my feet, she got kicked.

  I may have been tied up with fishing line. But I wasn’t defenseless.

  This woman would have to work for her meal.

  But I couldn’t fight her off indefinitely. I was running out of steam.

  The cookie was losing its magic, fatigue was setting in, and my dizziness and coordination were getting worse and worse.

  Eventually, I wouldn’t be able to keep Rita away.

  It started with a bite to the neck that I couldn’t immediately shake off.

  Then she managed to chew on an ear before I could kick her away.

  I was going to lose this fight. And soon.

  That was when I heard the sweetest sound of my entire life.

  “Phin!”

  My wife. Coming to save me. Once again.

  Man oh man did I love her.

  “Jack!” I cried, unable to keep the joy out of my voice.

  Rita’s disfigured face twisted in confusion. She had no clue of the wrath that was going to descend upon her.

  We played nibble and push-away for another minute or two, and then heard a shotgun.

  It didn’t come from above. It came from the walls.

  My house?

  Rita also seemed confused. She stopped trying to eat me and went to fetch a lit candle. I shook off another round of vertigo, the worst one yet, and wondered what was taking my lady so long.

  “Jack! I’m over here!”

  I expected her to reply.

  But what I heard next I didn’t expect at all.

  “Dad!”

  Oh, sweet Jesus. No. How the hell did my daughter wind up in the mine?

  “Sam? Sam! Get out of here!”

  Rita scuttled away. In the direction of my daughter.

  “Dad? Do you have a candle?”

  “That’s not me, Sam! Run!”

  When Rita had been attempting to make me lunch, I’d tried my damnedest to break the fishing line wrapped around me. But knowing that fiend was after my daughter, I began to strain at my bonds so hard the line cut into my skin.

  But the line wouldn’t break. It might as well have been made of steel.

  “Leave my daughter alone!” I screeched.

  Then something rushed at me in the darkness.

  Sam!

  “Daddy!”

  She dropped something and hugged me, and a sob got stuck in my throat.

  “Mr. Wintergarten has a shotgun,” she said through tears.

  “Mom is coming, pumpkin. Go and run to her. She’s coming that way.”

  I tried to point with my chin, and then Sam lifted up the thing she’d dropped.

  “I brought your gun safe, Dad.”

  Maybe other parents were proud of their children, but right then I was the proudest father in the history of humanity.

  “Press it to my finger, Sam. My index finger.”

  Sam held the safe next to my body and did as instructed, getting it to open.

  “Take the knife, honey. Careful, it’s really sharp. Slide the tip under my armpit, blade facing out, and cut the line.”

  She picked up my Boker and flicked it open, but hesitated when she brought it to my bare chest. “I’m afraid I’ll cut you.”

  “It’s okay. You can do it. You’ve already shown you’re the bravest girl in history. Just a little more, then you’ll be done. Go on.”

  She poked me with the tip, but I refused to flinch. Then, bit by tiny bit, my daughter freed my arms.

  I took the knife from her and sawed at the fishing line on my legs. Once free, I grabbed my Glock and jacked in a round, just as Larry and Rita rounded the corner.

  “Don’t look, pumpkin. And cover your ears.”

  Sam did as instructed, hiding behind me.

  My first three shots were high, hitting the ceiling.

  My next three were low, kicking up dirt at their feet.

  Larry ducked behind Rita, and she took the next six rounds in the torso.

  But she didn’t go down. She actually came at me.

  My next shot missed.

  So did the one after that.

  I had one bullet left, and she was almost on me, and everything was blurry and my hands were shaking and the whole world seemed to spin and I fired my last round—

  —and missed again.

  I hugged Sam, trying to shield her from not just Rita, but from Larry, who was raising the shotgun.

  But someone else shot before he did.

  The top of Rita’s head came off, and the next five shots ripped into Larry’s upper body, dropping him onto his knees.

  “Put down the weapon, you son of a bitch!”

  Did I have the greatest wife ever, or what?

  Larry did not put down his weapon. He stared down at the bleeding holes in his chest, and somehow the bastard found the nerve to smile.

  “You’ve fired your six rounds, Jacqueline. And I have plenty of shells left. As a mercy, I’ll kill little Samantha first.”

  Larry brought the shotgun to his shoulder.

  Jack took careful aim, and put a 9mm round right between his eyes.

  “My revolver holds seven,” she said.

  Then she fell to her knees next to us, crying. Sam was also crying.

  I may have cried a little bit, too.

  And after some careful hugs, and a few more tears, I heard the second-sweetest sound of my entire life.

  “You guys still alive?”

  Harry McGlade. Yelling down from Larry’s basement.

  “We’re good, Harry!” Jack yelled back. “Is your son okay?!?”

  “He’s fine! He’s driving to the police station! I’m sure the cavalry will be here soon!”

  Sam wiped some tears off her cheeks and looked deadly serious. “If Harry Junior is allowed to drive, I should be allowed to drive. I’m a lot more responsible than he is.”

  “We’ll discuss it later, pumpkin.”

  “I love you, Mom. Love you, Dad.”

  “I love both of you so much,” I said. “You guys saved me.”

  “We saved each other,” Sam said. “That’s what families do.”

  “Jackie, did you tell Phin the good news?!?”

  “What good news?” I asked her.

  “Me and Jackie are BFFs!” Harry yelled.

  Jack rubbed her eyes. “Long story. Drugs were involved.”

  I laughed. Then I gave my wife and daughter another hug, and we all did some more crying.

  We were still hugging and crying when the cops and paramedics showed up.

  JACK

  Harry, Phin, Sam, and I all got to share a hospital room.

  Partly because the hospital was over capacity. But I think McGlade might have bribed a few people to make it happen.

  Harry Junior was back on a plane to stay with his mother. I would have sent Sam to stay with my mother, but when she arrived at the hospital she started to cough, so they gave her a COVID-19 test and we were waiting for the results.

  My arm had five breaks in it, and would require surgery to insert pins. Harry’s broken knee would also require surgery.

  Phin had already been stitched up, but he needed more tests on his head to check for bleeding in the brain.

  So we had to play the waiting game.

  We also played Clue.

  “It was done in the cave, by a bloodthirsty cannibal, with a bone saw,” Harry accused. When no one laughed, he said, “Too soon?”

  “Do you ever stop joking around, Uncle Harry?” Sam’s surgical mask was too large for her, making her look even smaller than she was. Our daughter had been surprisingly resilient, considering all she’d gone through.

  But I knew the nightmares would come later. They always did.

  “I don’t ever stop joking, Fart Face. That’s the secret to my indestructibility. I laugh in the face of danger. Make fun of certain death. Crack jokes in even the most horrible situations. Ask your mother.”

  “He’s telling the truth,” I said. “His jokes are horrible.”

  Sam giggled. “Dad, it’s your turn.” She walked to him, bringing Phin the dice. He rolled on his blanket.

  A 12.

  “Dad, are you cheating again?”

  “I’m not. I’m just lucky.” Phin met my eyes. “Incredibly lucky.”

  Sam examined the dice anyway, rolling them a few times. “He’s not cheating,” she declared. “Dad, where do you want to move?”

  “Put me in the Ballroom,” he said.

  McGlade tittered. “The Ballroom. Lemme tell you why it’s called the Ballroom. Or would you guys prefer I show you? Sam, hide your eyes.”

  Before we could tell him no, a man came to the door. Not unusual; we’d been getting a constant influx or doctors, nurses, cops, and even some Feds.

  This one was a cop, dressed in the standard Destiny uniform, complete with a tan cowboy hat. Like all of us, he wore a face mask.

  He took off his hat and rapped on the doorframe.

  “I’m Detective Kertis. Can I come in?”

  “It depends,” Harry said. “Do you have beer?”

  “I’m afraid I don’t.”

  “If I gave you twenty bucks, could you get us some beer?”

  Harry had asked that of every single person who’d come into our room. None had complied.

  “I suppose I can do that. You’re Harry McGlade. I know about you. You’ve had quite the career. I liked that TV show. Fatal something, I can’t recall the title.”

  “Fatal Autonomy,” Harry proudly stated. “The reboot is premiering later this year. There will even be characters based on these two.” He pointed at me and Phin. “They just signed their releases.”

  “Will I be in the show, Uncle Harry?”

  “No. Because you have buttlips and you’re too ugly for TV, and you smell like elephant diarrhea.”

  Sam laughed. “You’re the one who smells. You smell like hippopotamus diarrhea.”

  “You smell like ostrich diarrhea.”

  “You smell like Paraceratherium diarrhea. That’s an extinct hornless rhinoceros that lived thirty million years ago and weighed over twenty tons, so when it had diarrhea it was gallons and gallons.”

  “How about we stop talking about diarrhea and let Detective Kertis tell us why he’s here?”

  “Thank you, ma’am. Um, maybe this would be better to discuss privately?” He glanced at Sam, then glanced away.

  “Sam, want to take Dad for a wheelchair ride?” Phin asked. “Maybe we can find some ice cream.”

  “I want chocolate ice cream!” Sam declared.

  “I also want chocolate ice cream,” Harry said. “And don’t be stingy with the sprinkles.”

  Phin managed to get into his chair, and Sam helped push him out of the room.

  “I appreciate it, ma’am.”

  “Stop calling me ma’am. I’m Jack.”

  He grinned in an aw shucks sort of way. “I know. Jack Daniels. A real hero. We didn’t even know you moved into town. You’re about the most famous cop in the country. And right after you come to Destiny, you stop the biggest serial killer of all time. It’s an honor to meet you. Both of you.”

  “What’s with all the ass kissing, Detective?” Harry asked. “Not that I don’t enjoy some sloppy, wet ass kissing.”

  “Well, I came here to ask you, both of you, if you’d help out with a case of ours. You already solved one of our town’s urban legends. The Peeper. We have another one, been going on a few years.”

  “The Destiny Drac.” Harry and I exchanged a look.

  The detective’s eyes widened. “You know about the Destiny Drac?”

  “Weirdo who sucks blood?” McGlade asked. “We met the asshole. We’re each down a pint or two.”

  “We’d be honored if you took a look at our case files. It’s more than just assault cases. This person has murdered at least six people, as far as I can piece together.”

  I closed my eyes. My family had just narrowly avoided yet another encounter with psychopaths. I didn’t want to press my luck and go seeking another one out.

  “Let’s do it, Jackie. We could use the excitement.”

  “Are you on crack?”

  “Not at the moment. Why? You got any?”

  “We don’t need any more excitement, McGlade.”

  “We need to help out.”

  “No we don’t. We need to rest. And heal.”

  “If this is a bad time…” Detective Kertis began to back up, toward the door.

  “It’s a perfect time, Detective Klingon.”

  “It’s Kertis.”

  “Just stick around, Detective Morris—”

  “Kertis.”

  “Detective Arbogast.”

  “That’s not even close. It’s Kertis. K-E-R-T-I-S.”

  “Let me worry about the names, Detective Pancreas. Jackie wants to do this. I know her. We’re BFFs.”

  “Is that true, Lieutenant Daniels? Can you help?”

  It had been a while since a cop called me lieutenant.

  “You just want us to look over the case files?” I asked. “Nothing else?”

  He nodded. “Nothing else. Just a professional consult. That’s all.”

  “It’ll be harmless, Jackie. We won’t even have to leave this room.”

  I considered it.

  I mean, what could it be, other than harmless?

  I’ve dealt with way more than my fair share of crazies over the years. The odds would be astronomical that we’d have to deal with another one again. Especially so soon.

  Right?

  BLOOD

  My name is Blood.

  I drink blood to live, and I live to drink blood.

  My old shrink called it Renfield’s syndrome. Also known as clinical vampirism.

  But I’m not crazy. I know for a fact that if I don’t drink blood, my insides will dry up, and I’ll turn into dust.

  I had a friend, Larry. We helped each other out. He helped me find blood.

  But Larry is dead.

  Luckily, the people who killed him are in the hospital.

  The hospital where I work.

  They’re going to pay for killing my friend.

  They’re going to pay Blood in blood.

  THE END

  The adventure continues in the next Jack Daniels thriller, BITE FORCE.

  JOE KONRATH’S

  COMPLETE BIBLIOGRAPHY

  JACQUELINE “JACK” DANIELS THRILLERS

  WHISKEY SOUR (Book 1)

  BLOODY MARY (Book 2)

  RUSTY NAIL (Book 3)

  DIRTY MARTINI (Book 4)

  FUZZY NAVEL (Book 5)

  CHERRY BOMB (Book 6)

  SHAKEN (Book 7)

  STIRRED with with Blake Crouch (Book 8)

  RUM RUNNER (Book 9)

  LAST CALL (Book 10)

  WHITE RUSSIAN (Book 11)

  SHOT GIRL (Book 12)

  CHASER (Book 13)

  OLD FASHIONED (Book 14)

  LADY 52 with Jude Hardin (Book 2.5)

  JACK DANIELS AND ASSOCIATES MYSTERIES

  DEAD ON MY FEET (Book 1)

  JACK DANIELS STORIES VOL. 1 (Book 2)

  SHOT OF TEQUILA (Book 3)

  JACK DANIELS STORIES VOL. 2 (Book 4)

  DYING BREATH (Book 5)

  SERIAL KILLERS UNCUT with Blake Crouch (Book 6)

  JACK DANIELS STORIES VOL. 3 (Book 7)

  EVERYBODY DIES (Book 8)

  JACK DANIELS STORIES VOL. 4 (Book 9)

  BANANA HAMMOCK (Book 10)

  KONRATH DARK THRILLER COLLECTIVE

  THE LIST (Book 1)

  ORIGIN (Book 2)