Blood Moon's Fury: A Young Adult Fantasy Thriller (Curse of the Blood Moon Book 1)

by Leah Kingsley

  “We’ve got to help them!” Peter shoved Justin’s shoulder in an effort to get out. His words jolted everyone into action. Justin and Officer Wolf sprinted for the lake. The older officer radioed for an ambulance while the younger one herded a curious jogger away. They had forgotten Peter was supposed to be under arrest. He dove from the car and took two strides toward the trees.

  His steps faltered. A nine-year-old was drowning. Would his sister have lived if someone had tried to save her? He took one hesitant step and broke into a run. Not toward the trees but toward the lake.

  He launched himself off the edge of the pier in a tumbling freefall that left his insides behind. Plummeting to Earth like a stone without a parachute was exhilaratingly terrifying, like cliff jumping with his friends even though it was against summer camp rules. Not that he had ever been to camp. Every cent of spare cash his mom had made waitressing had been spent on his dad’s cheap beer. Peter grinned with unexpected elation. What would his drunkard dad say if he knew what he was doing? Peter hoped he was about to become the biggest disappointment yet.

  His focus returned to him atop a screaming rush of wind. He had eluded panic and shock, but reason and logic came calling halfway through his drop. Peter could hold his breath for forty-five seconds, maybe a minute. Would that be anywhere near enough time to rescue Susan? His best attempt at swimming was an ungainly doggy paddle. Lessons had been low on his father’s priority list, somewhere between teaching him manners and how to bake a cake. “He can learn like I did when my brothers tossed me in the river,” was all his dad would say when his mother asked. Now Peter wished he had thrown him in a few extra times.

  Icy water rushed up to meet him, spray slapping his face a split second before the splash. The freezing water hit his body like a thousand steel knives. His head pounded and his mind reeled at the temperature shock. He forced his eyes open as he sank, and a surge of relief sent warmth through his veins. The car rested on the lake bottom in front of him, its headlights miraculously still shining. Finally, a stroke of good karma! It had only taken the universe a solid seventeen years.

  Peter paddled to the rear driver’s side door and yanked on its handle. It was stuck. He strained to wrench it open, an icy jolt of fear careening through his veins. He was already running out of air. An idea dawned on a jolt of relief. The smashed side window. He battled his way around the sedan and located the hole by touch. He reached through the broken window and fumbled blindly in the dark interior. Nothing. The freezing water was making his head ache. Where was Susan? Still locked in the trunk? Tied up and drowning? Lying unconscious on the soggy carpet floor?

  He slithered through the window. Pain stung his shoulders as spikes of glass scored his skin. Something soft brushed his arm. He reached for it and got smacked by a small flailing hand. Susan. He grabbed her and pulled. Someone else held her in place.

  Bubbles escaped his lips as he struggled to free her from Alex, the only person crazy enough to drown a little kid. Peter threw a punch, but the water slowed his fist. Alex reached for him and recoiled as if electrocuted. Susan was free!

  Peter guided her backward, taking care to keep her away from the jagged broken glass. She had gone limp in his arms by the time he had her out. He struggled for the surface, Susan’s dead weight dragging him down. His lungs screamed in protest. His chest burned like a gasoline fire. He gasped for air and choked on water. He was going to drown saving this kid, but he refused to let her go.

  He popped into the predawn light and gulped at the crisp lake air. Half a dozen swimmers surged toward him, Justin in the lead. They helped Susan to the beach, and Justin took her from him to rush her to a stretcher.

  Peter sank onto the sand and stared at the pier full of strangers. He staggered up to the parking lot, where medics were resuscitating Susan and Ash, and Officer Wolf was dragging Alex into a squad car. Peter smiled at her badassery. The smile froze on his face as he swept his gaze over the half-empty peer. Where were Amy, Charles, and Zack? Nathan could die for all he cared.

  “Where’s Amy?” Justin echoed Peter’s thoughts.

  They turned as one toward the lake. A tidal wave of guilt smacked Peter in the face. Susan had only been one of the people trapped underwater.

  He stumbled where he stood, his stomach churning with acid shame. The ground dipped and swayed beneath him. He doubled over and splattered puke across the asphalt. His vomit was dark red.

  “We need a medic over here!” Justin grasped Peter’s arm and towed him toward an ambulance.

  “No, go help your sister.” Peter choked on a stream of crimson puke. The metallic taste of blood filled his mouth.

  “How much blood has he lost?” a female medic asked. Peter collapsed onto a stretcher.

  “I’m not sure. Maybe half a cup?” Justin’s gaze skimmed past Peter and settled on the lake.

  Several blurry seconds later, the ambulance was speeding toward the highway with its siren wailing. The world was wobbly, distorted, and oddly tinted red. The face of the young doctor leaning over him swam in and out of focus. She placed a hand on his stomach. “His abdomen’s rigid. He needs surgery right now. What’s our ETA?”

  “Four minutes,” the driver answered, his words vibrating with tension.

  “I can’t get a pulse!” another voice called, this one shrill with alarm. “She’s crashing.”

  “Who’s crashing?” Peter tried to sit up, and a wave of vertigo made his head spin.

  “Lie down.” The doctor pressed her palm against his chest until he slumped onto the stretcher. “Keep up CPR,” she ordered. Peter smiled to himself. Why were all the women he met so dang bossy?

  “You picked one hell of a day for a ride along,” the driver muttered.

  “Tell me about it.” The female doctor grinned. “And it’s only six a.m.” She flicked her gaze back to Peter. “What’s your name, dude?”

  “Peter,” he managed, willing the vomit to stay in his stomach.

  “Okay, Peter.” She gave him a reassuring smile. “I need to know if you’re taking drugs or if you’re on any medications.” He shook his head, and stars danced behind his eyes. “Try to lie still.” She placed a thermometer under his tongue.

  They zoomed through the town with lights flashing and sirens blaring. The ambulance screeched to a halt, and he and the other passenger were transferred to gurneys at lightning speed.

  “ORs B and C are ready for you,” someone called as the ambulance doctors sped them down a sterilized hospital corridor. Peter stared at the ceiling whizzing by, and nausea overcame him. Blood stung his throat as he coughed up more vomit.

  A frazzled blonde nurse blocked his gurney’s path. The other gurney and its occupant zoomed into an OR to his right. An elderly male doctor stepped from an OR to his left, and the harried nurse grasped his arm. “Doctor Chang. We need this OR for another emergent patient.”

  Doctor Chang frowned. “His injuries look severe.”

  “The chief of surgery says to take him for a CT. He says use the next available OR.”

  “He has a ruptured stomach ulcer,” the ambulance doctor broke in.

  “He must wait. The other patient will die if all ORs are occupied when she arrives. These are direct orders from the chief of surgery. Besides.” The nurse curled her lip in distaste. “The girl on the way is a victim. He is one of the youths responsible.”

  All heads turned to Peter. His cheeks heated with shame. “I’ll wait,” he said.

  “We are doctors! We do not prioritize medical attention to those who we feel are more deserving!” Peter blinked woozily at the ambulance doctor. She was determined to champion him. Because she found him first, and he was an awesomely repulsive patient? More likely she wanted to scrub in on an interesting surgery.

  Doctor Chang scratched the top of his bald head. “We do bump more urgent cases ahead of less serious ones, though. Take him for a CT, and page me if his condition worsens.”

  The ambulance doctor grumbled under her breath as she
wheeled Peter off. “I hate being an intern! No one listens to you, even when you’re right.”

  Forty

  DARKNESS SURROUNDED ZACK. The icy lake dragged at his clothes and weighed him down. He gasped for air and choked on water. He kicked off his shoes and paddled in the direction he guessed was up. The last of his air escaped his lips. His ears rang and his heart pounded as panic rioted within him. What if he was going the wrong way? What if he was swimming sideways through meters and meters of water, heading deeper into the frigid lake? Fear clutched at his chest as water filled his burning lungs. His muscles screamed their protest as he thrust upward one final time. A few more seconds and he would give in. A few more seconds and he would surrender his body to the lake’s grasping, chilling embrace.

  He stretched his hands above his head, and his fingertips grazed the surface. He strained upward on a final surge of hope and exploded into predawn light. He coughed and sputtered and gulped fresh, freezing air. His pounding heart began to slow.

  Zack was approximately twenty feet from shore, treading water at the edge of a vast expanse of blue. The lake was cold, still, and silent. Uneasiness pricked his skin as he skimmed his gaze across the too-quiet water. The silence was chilling and hinted at something worse. Ice-cold fear swept through his veins on a surge of electric alarm. He had been so focused on saving himself, he hadn’t stopped to consider anyone else. Amy, Susan, and Charles were still down there, trapped or unconscious or worse.

  He took a deep breath and dove. The water sliced into him like a million jagged daggers of ice. Mind-numbing brain freeze and a sharp tightness in his chest sank frozen fangs of doubt into his skin. Was he strong enough for this? Who else would save her? Fighting past the pain, he angled himself downward and swam deeper into the lake. The water in front of him had an eerie glow to it. The sedan’s headlights! They were still working.

  Zack swam to the car on a surge of triumphant relief. There had been an explosion of glass as they had crashed through the fence. Amy ought to be right there in front, likely tangled in a seat belt but still fighting to get free. He would rescue her first and come back for the others. The windshield wasn’t smashed, it was just plain gone. His skin prickled with a warning. Something was very wrong. He glided into the sunken wreck and scanned the sedan’s dark interior. Panic fluttered in his stomach. He would have to search the car by touch, and he was almost out of air.

  The driver’s seat was empty. Had Amy and Ash escaped? He shoved aside his creeping feelings of unease and ran his hands over the back seat while searching the floor with his feet. He checked the trunk for Susan and again came up empty-handed. Warm relief flooded his heart. The car was clear. Everyone had escaped without his help. He launched himself from the wreck and kicked up toward fresh air.

  Chaotic noise assaulted his ears as he surfaced. Sirens wailed in the distance, police officers shouted orders at the edge of the peer, and Justin and Peter helped Susan toward the shore. Charles was already trudging up the beach toward a waiting ambulance, leaning on the shoulder of a dark-haired girl Zack didn’t know.

  “Yes!” Zack punched the air. They had made it.

  But where was Amy? Tendrils of fear snaked through his gut. She hadn’t reached the shore or made it up for air. His heart lurched as panic constricted his chest. Amy was drowning. He dove again. He was not coming back up until he had her in his arms.

  He swam straight for the headlights of the sunken wreck. If she wasn’t trapped in the sedan or safely back out on the pier, she must have landed somewhere in the water. But where? He paused by the car, paralyzed with indecision. Her chances decreased with every passing second. Zack ground his jaw and searched his memories of the crash. The windshield had shattered, and Amy had not been buckled in. She must have been thrown from the sedan.

  Zack combed the lake bottom in a grid pattern. Reason kept him steady, but urgency screamed for faster action. He was racing a clock without knowing how much time was left. His head ached from oxygen deprivation and the agony of the freezing water, but he refused to come up for air. If he did, Amy would be lost. He pressed forward, painfully aware he was traveling farther out into the lake and farther away from help.

  His hand brushed hair. His heart leapt with hope. Amy lay face-down on the sandy lake bottom. Was she unconscious or was she dead? Zack wrapped his arms around her waist and pushed off hard from the mud.

  He clung to her as he struggled toward the surface. She was chilled to the bone and frighteningly limp. He clawed at the water above his head and tightened his other arm around her waist. His lungs burned. His chest was on fire. He looked up and glimpsed the rippling reflection of light. He strained upward, the dark water threatening to drag Amy from his arms. He screwed up his face and closed his eyes, putting everything he had into a final frantic struggle. He surfaced with a gasping splash and gulped fresh lake air.

  He clutched Amy to his chest and fought to keep her head above water. His breath came in short exhalations, misty vapor curling into the frosty morning. Not even the tiniest wisp rose from Amy’s colorless lips. His heart froze in his chest. Her skin was chalky white, her chest still. Icy fingers of fear clutched his heart.

  No! He hadn’t come this far to lose her. He spun her so her head rested on his shoulder and pressed her tight against his chest. He slammed an open hand into her back. Nothing. “Come on, Amy!” He tightened his grip and repeated the motion. Water gushed from her mouth. She coughed, and more streamed from her lips. Zack loosened his grip and held her a few inches away. Her chest rose and fell with painfully shallow breaths. The crushing grip on his heart loosened a fraction.

  He tucked Amy in the crook of his arm and battled toward the shore. The welcoming line of sand was forty feet away. His breaths were ragged, each one sending a spiking pain into his side. The glacial water had frozen him to his core. His skin was numb, his insides like ice. His feeble strokes slowed with every push toward the sand. His exhausted muscles screamed their protest.

  Police officers appeared on either side of him and took most of Amy’s weight. They towed her to shore and rushed her up the beach. Zack clutched her to his chest and looked down into her face as they ran. Strands of sodden ebony hair clung to her pale cheeks, and her skin was ice cold against the warmth of his body. Was it too late? A literal pain knifed his heart.

  He skidded to a halt by an ambulance and set Amy on a stretcher. He clung to her hand and couldn’t let go. Narrow palm, slender fingers, ice-cold skin against the warmth of his own.

  “Come on, kid,” a paramedic said. “I need space to do my job.”

  Zack whispered a promise and released her hand. They moved her to the ambulance, and Justin scrambled in alongside her. Zack tried to follow, but a female officer blocked his way.

  She clasped his arm to hold him back. “Only family allowed right now.”

  “No,” he rasped, attempting to shove her aside.

  Her expression hardened. “Sir, I need you to calm down.” She had a pistol, a Taser, and a pair of handcuffs clipped to her belt.

  Zack dropped his hands. “Sorry. She’s my …” His words fizzled into nothing. His gaze trailed the ambulance, as it turned to face the narrow road. “She’s something special.”

  The policewoman tugged him to one side, and the ambulance sped up the road and out of sight. His heart twisted in his chest. Her expression softened. “It’s okay. She’s in good hands. My name is Kimmy. I’ll give you a ride to the hospital if you like.”

  Forty-one

  SUSAN SAT PROPPED in her hospital bed with a pile of pillows at her back and a tray of yucky-looking hospital food in her lap. Justin had a chair pulled up to her bedside, and Zack was sitting across the room by the window. A sliver of azure sky peeked invitingly from between her plain cotton drapes. If only she was outside, lying beneath that cool winter sky in a field of bright white snow. How nice would it feel to escape it all for a moment and breathe the crisp, clean air that smelled of snow and a hint of Christmas. A wistful sigh e
scaped her lips.

  Justin tensed. “Are you okay? Do you need the nurse?”

  Susan rolled her eyes. “For the last time, Justin,” she said, trying to calm her thickheaded brother, “I’m fine!”

  His mouth set in a firm, stubborn line. “You’re in the hospital. You almost died! You’re far from fine.”

  “No!” She slapped her palm onto the tray, making the dishes jump. “Amy is dying. I’m the one who’s okay.” She regretted her words the moment they had flown from her lips. Justin flinched. “Sorry,” she whispered and tugged the plain white hospital blanket up to her chin.

  “It’s okay.” Justin took her hand in both of his. “Amy will get better. I know it.”

  Susan squeezed his fingers, finding comfort in having someone who loved her by her side. She lifted her chin and met her brother’s smoky gray eyes. Shadows of doubt clouded his gaze. Did he truly believe what he was saying about Amy? She had been in surgery for eleven hours. That meant she was really hurt.

  Susan glanced at Zack. He had sat, unmoving, in the same straight-backed chair for hours. His resemblance to a statue of a meditating monk she and Chris had seen on a field trip made her cringe. She blew out a frustrated breath. Amy meant a lot to him, but he needed to get a grip. He barely knew her! She and Justin were her family, and they hadn’t gone all monkish. Amy was fine. Justin said so, and he was the smartest person she knew. But why was Zack upset? Why wouldn’t anyone explain? Her heart twisted with fear and doubt.

  Susan’s eyes burned with unshed tears. She wanted her mother, even though she had never spent much time with her. She longed for the lavender-scented hugs her mom used to give her as a kid. She desperately needed someone to hold her and make everything okay. But that had always been Amy’s role. Hot tears trickled down her cheeks.

  Justin pulled her into a hug. “Hey. What would Amy say about that if she were here?”