Blood Donors (7 page)

Con!
I yell up into the wind.

He don’t hear.

CON!
I wave my arms, still holdin’ the ice cream tub.

He rub his belly and lick his lips, do a little dance, wagglin’ his bottom.

Bugs zonin’ in on him.

Sabretooth beginnin’ to realize something seriously messed up, and he whinin’ next to me, trottin’ from paw to paw. I start whinin’ too.

CONNNN!

I pull out my phone and call Mum. Connor too young to have one of his own.

It rings and rings.
Pick up.
Pick up.

Marshy
says Mum,
did you forget—

Grab Connor! Pull him in!

Bugs suddenly stop dead.

What?
says Mum.

Flat three floors below, three balconies along. Door slightly open. I see a flurry of movement. Bugs – as one – jerk in that direction. Movement is curtains drawin’. A figure in a dressin’ gown. A lady.

It’s Mr B’s neighbour, one who yelled at me and Mus. She all ready for bed. It when you asleep you don’t know them bugs eatin’ at you. Don’t see ’em. Don’t scratch at ’em. Asleep you is the easy prey.

Bugs suddenly sprint in that direction, a flurry of skinny bootlace legs. In seconds, they in on that balcony three floors below. On it. Dartin’ one after the other through the open door, through the gap in the curtain. Into the dark.

Hello?
says Mum.

I drop the ice cream.

I run. Sabretooth look at me and look at the dropped ice cream like I am a maniac. I have to call him three times before he runs to catch up with me. Good boy. It take maximum doggie willpower to desert a whole tub of gently meltin’ choc chip.

I run up the stairwell two and three stairs at a time. I’m puffin’ and pantin’, almost ready to drop by the time I reach ours.

Mum! Mum!
I dash into the kitchen and grab hold of a spatula like a fool – what am I gonna do, flip ’em to death? Chuck the spatula down, pick up the fryin’ pan.
Better
. Grab the bread knife.
Mum! Grab a weapon! Quick! Quick!

What’s going on?
She look like somebody jus’ told her the aliens have landed, which not far wrong. I point my finger at Connor.
Bro, you stay here. Keep Sabre close. Watch the spaces beneath the door!

Mum has grabbed hold of the heavy-duty Megalite torch that she keep by her bed in case we ever have burglars.

Racin’ down the stairwell. Mum clamberin’ behin’ me, sayin’
What’s up? What is it? Is someone being attacked?

It’s the bugs, Mum
I say.
Great big killer bugs
.

What?!

Hammerin’ at the door with the fryin’ pan.
Open up! Open up!
I turn roun’ to my mum.
We gonna have to break down the door. Quick, smash it with your torch
.

Mum ain’t lookin’ too certain about that idea. Ain’t lookin’ too certain about any of this. I’m kickin’ at the door like a ragin’ donkey. It open wide. Woman standin’ there, wrapped in a dressin’ gown, blinkin’ and frownin’. I dash past. My eyes dart roun’ the walls and floor. I hotfoot through to her kitchen. Clear. Swerve to the livin’ room, look behind the furniture, under the furniture, roun’ the backs of picture frames. Mum trailin’ behin’ me.
Marshall, what on earth are you doing?
She all apologetic to the woman in the dressin’ gown, who ain’t said nothin’.

Bedroom. Curtains drawn so I switch on the light. I expec’ to see giant bugs scatterin’ for cover. But there ain’t nothin’. I lean under the bed. Smash wildly with the fryin’ pan on account of not wantin’ to get my arm bitten off.

Marshall!
Mum yellin’ at me, tuggin’ my arm. Says to the sleepy lady
I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I just don’t know what’s come over him
. I stand back up, drop the fry pan, grab Sleepy Lady’s arms, push up the sleeves of her gown, inspectin’ her arms for giant bug bites. She don’t like this much, wakes up a bit, yells.

Mum grabs hold of my wrist where I got the bread knife still in my hand. She lookin’ at me like I a maniac.
Drop the knife, Marshall
she says.

I drop the knife. Sleepy Lady pick it up. She wave it at me, like it
me
that the threat to her further livin’ on earth. Mum holds up the torch between Sleepy Lady and me, but her eyes is fixed on my eyes even though she speakin’ to the lady.
It’s all right
she says.
He’s not threatening you, I promise. I’m sorry, I’m really, really sorry
.

Sleepy Lady tighten her grip on the knife.
You’re one of the boys harassing Mr Bush earlier! I’m calling the police!

I need to be doin’ some explainin’.

It’s the bugs
I say. I
saw them outside. The bugs are goin’ to kill you when you asleep. Goin’ to suck all your blood
.

Lady fixes me with an angry look.
You horror! Police! Police!

No!
Mum cries. She turn to me.
What is the matter with you? You’re going to end up just like your fa—
She checks herself.

I look down from her dagger eyes. I get it. Mum think I’m outta control. She think my anger issues gone off like a scatter-bomb.
I seen ’em, Mum
I say desperately.

She grabs me by the elbow.
I’m really sorry
she says to Sleepy Lady again. I give up. They ain’t goin’ to believe anythin’ I say.

Mum start leadin’ me out.
I’m sorry
she says again. She jus’ can’t get enough apologizin’ outta her mouth. It’s humiliatin’ for the both of us.

Jus’ before she yank me outta the flat, I see Sleepy Lady got three or four bullet holes along the wall, like gangsters been here, shootin’ the place up.
Blam.
Blam.
Blam.
Don’ make no sense.

Mum draggin’ me along the hallway, hurtin’ my arm. When we get to the corner, we see Sis watchin’ us from the doorway. I pull myself outta Mum’s grip.
Sis!
I say.
I gotta talk with you
.

Mum lets me go, but she look terrified.
Will you watch him for a minute?
She’s lookin’ back at Sleepy Lady, who already tappin’ numbers into her phone.
You see if you can’t talk sense into my boy!

Sis give Mum her sympathetic smile. Mum seems to surrender, and turns back to Sleepy Lady.
Let’s calm down
she says to her.
Let’s talk this through for a minute
.

Come
Sis say to me, guidin’ me up towards her floor.

Mum turn round one last time.
I want you in your bed within the hour, boy. You hear? In bed. Asleep
.

You know what? I have the very best intention of stayin’ up late as I possible can. I ain’t shuttin’ my eyes ever again. Not with these blood-suckin’ monsters crawlin’ roun’ the block.

Shut your eyes, boy, you gonna die. We all gonna die. Jus’ nobody else know it yet.

Mum figure I’m safe stayin’ with Sis until I get myself calm down. Sis only a year older than me, but Mum ain’t stressin’ at me spendin’ time alone at her place. Sis ain’t that kind of girl.

Sis the only one of my crew with a smartphone. I got a dumbphone, has a camera, that about it. Mustaph so down, his family got one of them meters for the TV, where you put in the pound coin for 60 minutes of Britain Got Talent.

Sis one of them families in The Finger that never have any money but always has everythin’ they need. Big Auntie clever like that. I need Internet to find out ’zackly what we up against. Sis got it all on her BlackBerry.

First off, Sis demandin’ to know what’s been kickin’ off. I spill all in a mad rush. She be laughin’ first up. But I can tell it nervous laughter. Sis know me long and deep enough that I ain’t drug-crazed or bent in the head. But she saw everything kickin’ off outside Sleepy Lady’s flat.

Marsh, you ain’t been on the same gear as Soft Stuart been?

I throw her disgust. I know she jokin’, but she know me better than to even try that sort of wit. Bad enough Mum stressin’ about such nonsense.

Listen, boy, I ain
’
t doubtin’ what you think you saw, I swear I ain’t, but you talkin’ a tale of giant bloodsuckin’ monsters, yeah? You ain’t gettin’ nowhere without no proof
.

Do you need proof, Sis?

Listen, Marshy. This girl needs proof of everythin’. You ain’t survivin’ nothin’ in this life if you jus’ accept everythin’ that thrown at you. Some days I need proof I’m even here. I believe you believe what you seen, but until I see anythin
’
with eyes of my own, I ain’t believin’ nothin’, get me?

Sis always been the smartest person I know. Teachers hated her at school ’cos she used to sit and say
Show me the proof
. Teachers would draw her the pictures, she say J
ust a picture, man. How do I know you ain’t just made it up? Come on, show me the proof. Show me the proof
.

Imagine bein’ a teacher havin’ to stand that all day long. They called her out for bein’ a wind-up, but thing with Sis is, she’s a hundred per cent genuine. I’m good with that.

I say
You seen the bodies gettin’ carried out, yeah?

Sure. Soft Stuart. Man was a walkin’ pharmacy. Now he a lyin’-down pharmacy
.

What about the other one, taken out early this evenin’. Him too? And what about Mr Bush?

What about him?

Me and Mustaph seen the bugs movin’ around in his flat. And I seen ’em crawlin’ round on the outside walls
.

Didn’t realize until this minute how desperate I am to be believed.

Sis smile, ain’t risin’ to it.
I gotta see proof of my own, is all. Listen, bro, if it helps, I reckoned I saw somethin’ scurryin’ around Soft Stuart’s. I was thinkin’ it must be a nasty ol’ rat. But, you know, rats … bugs…

Yes! Thank you.

Well, Sis, what we goin’ to do?

She folds her arms. Y
our mum already classin’ you Fool of The Finger. What do you think Big Auntie goin’ to think?

I already tried to catch one of them bugs, all it did was make Mum sore at me
.

Sis give me her sweet smile.
You gonna have to try a bit harder, ain’t you?

I need your assistance, Sis. I need to think like the Big Game Hunter, get me? Need to understand my foe
.

That my boy. What’s your plan?

I shrug. She already on her phone, searchin’ for
bedbugs
so we can arm ourselves with info.

Believe, this info is ten out of ten on the Scare-o-meter.

First up
Sis reads out,
both male and female bedbugs feed on human blood. Right. They use our blood to shed their baby shells and grow nice new shiny ones
.

I’m peerin’ down at the phone. Can’t believe how many websites there are for bedbugs.

We know that true
I say.
We got the bite marks remindin’ us
.

Sis goes on.
They breed at a phenomenal rate. Lay up to twelve eggs per day. Eggs coated with sticky substance so they adhere to the surface. Eggs hatch around ten days. Nymphs immediately begin to feed
.

Hold up right there
I say.
What’s a nymph?

She smile at me.
A little one. A baby. Says here they require a blood meal in order to moult and develop into the next stage
.

Right about now me and Sis lookin’ at each other with widescreen eyes. Twelve eggs a day and them little baby nymphs feastin’ on our flesh rightaways. I itch jus’ hearin’ it.

There’s more.
Adults grow to ten to twelve millimetres. Bedbugs have an extremely tough exoskeleton. Most current pesticides won’t penetrate this exoskeleton
.

Exoskeletons?
I blink at Sis like a fool.
These guys sound like Armageddon critters
.

And guess what? They hide out durin’ the day, and when night come … well, bedbugs are attracted to body heat and the carbon dioxide in expired air, which is how they find their host. Devious, yeah?

What you tellin’ me, Sis, is that they
sniff
us out
.

Hunters. They know
’
zackly where you be snoozin’ away, but you can’t feel nothin’ when they bite, on account of them injectin’ an
anaesthetic
.
Then they inject an
anti-coagulant
,
which thin out your blood, make it runny for suckin’ up nozzles. You followin’?

I wish I wasn’t. I feel sick.

Sis reads more.
As the bedbug engorges, it changes from light brown to rust-red. Whoahh! We get paler, they get redder, fillin’ up with our juice. They suck for
ten minutes
or so. Crazy itchin’ only happen an hour later, once the damage all done. They crawl somewhere nice and dark to digest their slap-up meal. Marsh, you OK? You lookin’ pale
.

We leanin’ closer into each other. Sis is scratchin’ at her arm.

Listen, Sis, these Megabugs, they ain’t ten millimetres long, they ten
inches
long. When they slurpin’ your good stuff, they takin’ ten times as much. Imagine five or six of them on you. You be literally dead meat
.

I’m thinkin’ of Soft Stuart, empty, bloodless like a sucked-out ice-pop wrapper. I’m hopin’ Sis thinkin’ the same, but she shake her head, like her brain just ain’t havin’ it.
Naah. No way, man. Marshmallow, these bugsies are nasty critters, ain’t no arguin’, and maybe you seen some pretty mean-lookin’ ones, but – naah. No way. We jus’ got a infestation, is all
.

I thought you believed me, Sis
.

She shake her head.
Listen, Marsh. Tomorrow your mum and my mum goin’ to teach those council peoples a thing or two about infestations. You get me? Those council men be cleanin’ this place from top to bottom. We ain’t goin’ to have no bugs suckin’ away at us. Don’t know what you saw, but trust me, giant bugs ain’t it. Chill, boy
.