"I was afraid of that," Gordon commented.
Father Flanagan Put the tow truck in reverse and backed onto the front lawn.
We watched in fear and confusion as he got out of the cab and walked to the rear of the truck.
"There are four more coffins down in that cellar," He said as he readied the wench
and gave slack to the hook and cable. "I'll need your help, lads, this is your chance to save your souls."
He carried the hook into the house, "Come on!" He yelled, "You're not getting a
We walked into the house and followed him to the basement.
"Here," Father Flanagan said as he handed me the hook, "Wrap it through the handles
and under the coffin and hook it up, yell to me when you're done." He went back upstairs and out to the truck.
Willie, Gordon and I looked at each other and analyzed the situation.
"Better move it towards the satirs first," Willie suggested.
We grabbed the coffin and positioned it on the steps. I tossed the hook under
the coffin and Gordon looped it through the handles as the Padre told us. He handed the hook back to me and I clasped
it around the cable.
"GO Father!" Willie yelled. The casket moved quickly up the stairs and straight
out the front door.
ALmost immediately we could hear the scream of the vampire and smell the burning
and decaying flesh as it wafted into the house.
"Next!" Father Flanagan yelled as the hook landed on the stairs.
We moved the third coffin into position and repeated the procedure. The fourth
coffin also went outside with ease, once outside however, it posed a small peoblem.
This last coffin would not open so easily. The three of us and the good Father
tried to pry it open with all our might but to no avail.
"Now what?" Willie asked in frustration. For some reason he was really getting
into this. "Padre, an axe."
"That's the spirit, lad," Father Flanagan said as he went to retrieve and axe from
"Should he have large sharp objects?" Gordon asked.
"I don't think so," I responded.
We watched as Willie gripped the handle and swung the axe into the top of the coffin.
Then we broke into hysterics as he reacted in pain from the steel reinforcments that lied just underneath the wood surface.
He did not scratch the cast iron shield at all.
"FUCK!" Willie screamed in agony as he reacted to the shock that penetrated his
"That's five more 'Hail Mary's' for ye!" The Good Father yelled.
"I thought you liked my spirit?!" WIllie shouted back in frustration, still shaking
relief into his arms and hands.
"Ah, the iron is good for the blood," A muffled voice spoke from inside the fortified
"Well, ye are awake," Father Flanagan commented.
"Who could sleep with all that noise?" The vampire questioned.
"Now what?" Willie asked.
"Now, you run and pray that come sunset, you won't see the likes of Shamus Black."
The vampire told him.
"Shamus Black?" Father Flanagan reacted, "It couldn't be."
"You know him, Padre?" I asked.
"Aye, Shamus Black and I went to middle school together. He was always a
Holy Terror, I'll tell you, always stealing lunch money form the other kids."
"Yeah, that was me," Confirmed the voice, "Which one were you?"
"The last one you'd ever want to see, Shamus. After today, you will regret
every punch you ever gave to Sean Patrick Flanagan." The godd Father proclaimed.
"Sean Patrick...?" The voice contemplated, "Holy Fuck, it's little Piss-Pants!"
"That's Father Flanagan to you, you little bastard!" The Padre shouted. He
grabbed the hook and handed it to me, "Here!"
As I hooked it to the cable I made sure the loop was secure. Father Flanagan
walked to the cab of the truck and we followed and got inside.
"Hang on, Lads!" Father Flanagan commanded as he started the engine and hit the
gas. "Maybe the country fresh air will do him good." The Padre pushed the a cassette into the the player and the
song, 'Just some good ol' boys' by Waylon Jennings began playing over the truck's stereo.
"Dukes of Hazzard?" Gordon questioned.
"Dukes of Hazzard," The Padre confirmed, "Best American T.V. show ever."
We drove at top speed down the town streets and out to the country road.
With the casket in tow every foot of the way. The good Father made a point of hitting ever bump and pot-hole to disrupt
the vampire, Shamus, as much as possible.
"I'm sure he's loving this," I commented.
Over the sound of the engine and the music, one could barely hear the muffled complaints
of the vampire victim. He was threatening us and swore that he would do very unpleasant things to say the least.
Then we took a huge bump in true 'Dukes of Hazzard' fashion. Father Flanagan
hit the gas, double clutched and gunned it.
"You did this before," WIllie smiled.
The truck flew over the bump, as did the casket. No amount of 'Hail Mary's'
could bring pennance for all the swears that Shamus was spewing.
The coffin, however, remained intact.
The good Father turned the wheel and slammed on the brake, whipping the coffin
around us and smashing it into the side of a telephone pole. The pole remained unhurt, as was the coffin, we weren't
sure about shamus.
"This is one tough nut to crack, lads!" The Father commented angrily. He
turned and caught a glimpse of my neck and the wound it had. "What's that?"
I had a feeling that he already knew the answer to that question.
"You've been bit, lad," He stated, "Ye better pray we kill this one by sunset,
it's the full moon tonight."