Sea of Dreams

by C.L. Bevill

Chapter 6

  Running…

  “We’re going to ride out of here?” I whispered after I was finished vomiting. The pain in my shoulder had been vigorously renewed with extra torment. The excessive heaving had made my back and shoulder move in ways that I was convinced I shouldn’t have moved. The throbbing combined with the fear that I had of the man who was delighting in our terror, was making me helpless. I didn’t like the sensation. It made me feel like less of a human being and more like a victim with a bull’s eye painted on her. “In the dark?”

  Zach methodically scanned the area. “We have to. We don’t know where he is or what he’s capable of doing.”

  Kara said, “What happened?”

  “He left a…present,” Zach said hesitantly, peering at me. I was on my knees, still shaking, trying not to fall over on my face. I bit back a moan because of the pain slicing through my shoulder. The flesh had torn when I had been hurling. Lovely thought. “A skull on the grill,” he finished reluctantly. “Sometime between dinner and now.”

  “A skull,” Kara repeated, horrified. Her expression was aghast. She looked around as if ascertaining our safety. “I thought you buried…”

  “I did,” he said gruffly. “Either he unburied it or he had others.”

  “The bikes are in a carport two blocks down,” Kara said, “where I left them last week. If he was watching, then…”

  “Then we’ll come up with another plan. Bring only water and the crossbows,” Zach instructed as if he were the elder of the pair. He looked down at me. “A blanket for her. It’s going to be a long night.”

  “I can’t ride a bike,” I muttered. I didn’t want to beg them not to leave me, but deep inside I feared for them. If they had to choose between protecting me and saving themselves, I had no compunction about the right thing to do. “You’ve got to…go on,” I said on a heartfelt sigh. Then I added the emphasis, “Leave me and go. I’ll lock myself in the room.”

  Zach stood over me while Kara hurried upstairs. He watched the area and the room upstairs. There was enough light from the twilight to see in all directions, but the shadows were growing into areas of potential hazard.

  “Listen, Sophie,” he said forcefully, and I could see his angry face. He glared at me for a moment, and then he began to speak. “We’ll get out of here. This man, this…thing…can’t chase us very far. He’s injured, too, from what you said. Burned and probably has some broken bones from the fall. If I have to, I’ll stop him in whatever way I can.” He drew in a deep breath and then included vehemently, “And there’s no way in hell that we’re leaving you behind.”

  Shuddering, I just looked up at Zach. Weak and dizzy, I was damning myself because I couldn’t help more. When Kara returned clutching the procured items, Zach picked me up again, and they headed down the street.

  Fortunately, their bicycles were still where Kara had left them. Two new K2 bicycles were parked in the carport and unmolested. A bicycle trailer had been attached to the man’s bike. It was big enough to carry materials like sleeping bags and food and then some. Zach unceremoniously dumped everything out and put me inside. My knees were bent, but it wasn’t altogether uncomfortable. He carefully tucked the blanket around me and loaded three gallons of water beside me. Then he gave me a crossbow that was nocked into firing position. He put the quiver of bolts in the pocket on the trailer, so I could easily reach it. It wasn’t mine, but it was close enough that I knew what to do with it.

  Finally, he brushed his fingers across my cheek, and when I looked up, Kara was smirking. I was certain she couldn’t see the color of my cheeks, but she probably knew I was blushing just as brilliantly as the sunset.

  It was perhaps almost a half-mile’s ride back to the Oregon Coast Highway from where the house was located. Through streets crowded with vacation homes and then through a strip mall area, we rode. Kara was in front. Zach took the rear, and there I was in the trailer. I twisted around in my makeshift seat and watched our rear. I thought I saw movement in the shadows, and then a trio of deer nervously scampered across the road, agitated by our hurried passing. I wondered what they were doing in the middle of the small town, but it hardly mattered.

  Then we were back on Highway 101. Kara was breathing heavily, but her strong limbs pumped endlessly. Zach carefully controlled his breathing as he strained with the extra weight. I watched as the twilight faded from red to purple to black. The stars began to pop up with an alacrity that I couldn’t appreciate. Struggling with the effort to stay alert enough to see behind us, I shifted around in the trailer causing Zach to call, “Careful, Sophie. You don’t want to tip us over.”

  I saw something, and I lifted my head to figure out what I was looking at. It wasn’t an immediate threat so I studied it painstakingly. “Zach,” I said loudly after a minute, almost warningly.

  Zach turned his head for a moment and then allowed the bicycle to coast to a stop. Kara glanced behind her and saw that we had come to a halt. Zach turned his upper body so that he could fully see what I was seeing. We watched for a long minute before Zach motioned for Kara to go again.

  I kept looking back and finally, I said, “It’s the motel, isn’t it?”

  “Yes,” Zach grunted. “Yes, I’m pretty sure.”

  The place where we had spent the last week, I in a mostly oblivious state, was on fire. The winds were feeding the flames, and the entire place looked as if gasoline had been poured upon every inch. It burned so well that it only took a matter of minutes before it collapsed into itself. We heard the noise a few seconds later, and Zach slowed to look behind us again. The fire was moving onto other buildings in the path of the wind. Another building was aflame, and others looked as though the embers were beginning to ignite them.

  After that, he went back to his frenetic pace. Wherever the man was located, none of us wanted to be near it. After a while I couldn’t see any more flames.

  I wasn’t certain how they could see to tell where we were going until Kara called eagerly, “Look, Sophie.”

  Our little friends the firefly pixies were back. They streamed along the road before us like roadside flares. Little flares but there all the same. They led in the same direction, away from the man who had tried to kill me.

  After an hour or so, Zach was done. I could feel his limbs shaking with overuse. His breath came in harsh gasps. He began to slow, looking for something to help us, for somewhere to stop for awhile. The world was black, and I couldn’t see anything except the firefly pixies and the long expanse of darkness stretching out behind us. Finally, they led us off the main road and to a house that was set back amongst a stand of trees.

  When we stopped, one of the little creatures lit upon my arm, standing there with its small wings fluttering anxiously. I sat very still and looked down at the animal that had helped us. The glow of their bioluminescence enabled me to see it clearly. Kara was right. They looked like tiny little humans with elongated features and forest green skin. Their eyes were large and bug-like. Their butterfly-like wings were delicate creations of green translucent material, seeming almost too fragile to actually be of use. He or she, or was it an it?, returned my look frankly and then shook its minuscule head. There was another scolding buzz as its body glowed extra brightly for a moment, and the firefly pixie returned to the fold. The group circled us twice and then lit off into the night, leaving us in a black pool where only the stars above were visible. Even the moon was absent.

  Zach said, “I’ve got a glow stick we can use for light, but we need to get inside and make sure we’re in an inside room without windows before I break it open.”

  Kara groaned as she got off her bicycle. “I’ve got to stop at the next big city and get another shot. My knees might have been rebuilt, but they weren’t meant for this kind of action.”

  I was still looking up at the sky when Zach bent over me. “Are you all right, Sophie?” he murmured.

  “I kept looking back,” I said. “I never saw him. I don’t think he could be following us.�
�� My voice trailed away. “But I suppose he could have seen which way we went. Would the firefly pixies tell us somehow?”

  Zach took the crossbow out of my hands. I had forgotten I was holding it. “I know you were watching. I wasn’t worried.”

  “Zach,” I said, using his name for the first time. I sensed, rather than saw, him tense up at the usage. “Is the moon gone?”

  When Zach picked me up, still wrapped in the blanket, he cursed rather than answered my odd question. “You’re all wet, Sophie,” he said finally. “Kara, is the door open?”

  There was a sound of breaking glass. “It is now,” she said. “Sophie, are you sweating? Do you have a fever again?”

  Carrying me inside the house, Zach inched around until they found a room that was on the backside of the house. It was a guest bedroom with a king-sized bed. Kara closed the blinds and then the heavy curtains before Zach put me on the bed. Then he broke the glow stick, shaking it fiercely, and raised it up to see.

  “Oh God,” Kara said brokenly. “Your hand is covered with blood, Zach.”

  Zach looked at his hand before he looked down at me in dismay. I had felt the stitches give on my shoulder, but I hadn’t wanted Zach and Kara to stop. I had even felt the blood as it started to flow down the hole in my back where the knife had gone cleanly through. I ignored it because their safety was more important.

  Kara rolled me over onto my side, and I thought that everything seemed a little dim. The green light from the glow stick made the room seem dark and sinister. There were too many shadows and too many places for…things to hide. I moaned and Zach said, “What’s wrong?”

  Placing her hand on my forehead, Kara said, “She’s running a fever again. And this is a lot of blood loss. Do you know your blood type, Sophie?”

  “Blood type,” I repeated. My last biology class had a blood test we had performed, and I had donated blood once. My blood type was relatively rare. “AB,” I said.

  “Yes,” Kara said loudly with a note of approval that seemed at odds with the situation. “Great news. Get my bag, Zach, you’re a donor.”

  “Don’t I have to be AB?” Zach asked flatly. “Because I don’t know what type I am, and I don’t want to—”

  “Quick science lesson,” Kara interrupted as she stripped the blanket from my back and pulled the sodden jersey away from my skin. “Give me your knife, Zach. I have to cut this material away.” I heard the words, but I didn’t comprehend the message. The feel of tugging material and the sound of slicing accompanied her speaking, making me shiver more. “AB blood type is considered the universal recipient, just like O negative is the universal donor. Ideally, AB blood would be the best, but since I’m A positive and you don’t know what you are, she’s going to take yours. Why you? You’re stronger than I am. If she needs more, I’ll donate tomorrow. Right now I need the needles and tubes we used for the I.V.”

  I almost shrieked when Kara pressed something firmly against the back of my injured shoulder. “Sorry,” she muttered. “I’ve got to stop the bleeding or this is going to be all for nothing.”

  “Don’t say that,” Zach hissed.

  “Okay,” Kara soothed. “She’s got a good chance with her blood type.”

  I closed my eyes and wished for something else to happen. As it turned out, I got my wish almost immediately.